|Uprising - Muse
☢ THE GENERAL ☢
Voiced by Clint Eastwood
‘’Rise up and take the power back, you know that their time's coming to an end, we have to unify and watch our flag ascend.
They will not force us, they will stop degrading us. They will not control us, we will be victorious!’’
Mordor is a very big British Columbia wolf (Canis lupus columbianus) and has some serious muscle mass underneath his coat. His coat is black, very black, thick and fluffy, making him look even bigger. Some might think he's a handsome guy, and he is, but it's his expression that makes him very uninviting, always either grinning or a very stoic serious look. His eyes are a dull amber, nothing too special about them. He's a bland but also rather intimidating looking wolf.
His left eye is blind, a little bit clouded over. Under his coat he has lots and lots of scars from his former battles, but they're not visible. Here and there you might see some scars on his face, but mostly only during spring and summer. And since his coat is black it's not that easy to see.
His whole life has been based on jealousy and arrogance. Already a smart ass and big mouthed punk as a kid, he wasn't the most favorite pup of his parents. To be honest, they despised him. But they cared for him because he was their son, and never shunned him, which was their biggest mistake.
Mordor used to be manipulative. He has grown lazy over the years, but he still has that little spark of arrogance when he feels up for it. He likes messing with wolves, likes testing their boundaries. But even though he's selfish and self centered, he can still use manners. He will do anything not to get himself killed, which means he would avoid fights. But if he ends up fighting, he will not back down, unless his life is really on the line. He has killed many wolves before, though, and it has made him cocky. Mordor is often soon testing his own limits, seeing how far he can reach things, seeing what he's able to do before he wears himself down.
He still introduces himself as The General or the General Officer to some wolves, proud of the title he used to have as a younger wolf. Mordor can control himself, but he tends to snap when he gets agitated, and annoyed for too long. He hates pups, and would only want them to continue his blood line. But, he does not have romantic feelings for anyone. Not anymore. Love is useless, love would never get him anywhere, he has realized.
Mordor likes to torture his victims, but would not attack anyone or kill anyone just for the fun of it. If he makes enemies because they don't like him, sure, he will make their life hell. But he would never attack someone unless he has an actual reason to. But when he actually gets the upper hand during a fight, he will use it. Hurt his opponents, kill them slowly and painfully. He gets adrenaline out of it. He is often seen drawling out a hunt when he gets the chance, just to torture his prey.
But he would never torture innocents. Only his enemies. Only those who deserve it, in his eyes.
Felias Blake was born in a litter of three pups; he and his two younger brothers. He was the oldest and the biggest, often winning from his siblings in play fights when he was challenged or challenged them. He was cocky, and had a big mouth, but his parents cared for him anyway because he was their son. And probably their only real successor. His litter mates were pussies in his eyes. They were weak and cowardly, and Felias loved to bully them. His parents never did anything about it. Their biggest mistake.
Felias grew up even more cocky, and stubborn. Everything went wrong with him. He always wanted to fight, picking his battles correctly. Always picking on the weaker ones, the smaller ones. He was bored with his easy life, and he wanted action. He wanted his life to be hard, to be a struggle. He wanted to have near death experiences, he wanted to know what it felt like to die, to be close to the light, and then pulled back. At the age of one, he had grown a fascination with death and corpses. He often tore them apart to see what they looked like on the inside. He ended up playing with his food, instead of actually eating it. This was when his parents finally grew worried. But they were too late to put him straight.
His younger siblings were born. The second litter of his parents. Four young ones, two males and two females. They were small, they were weak, they were easy targets. But Felias tried to like them, he tried his very best to get back on his parents' ''good boy'' list. After all, they gave him everything he needed; food, shelter.
But all his siblings were better than him, all the younger ones were his parents' favorites. And Felias? He was forgotten, and he realized he meant nothing to his family. His parents had grown worried and scared of him, and avoided him. They shunned him. And his younger siblings got all they love they needed and wanted. And Felias grew jealous. No longer was he the favorite. But he had never been, even though he believed he was. Jealousy began to take over, clouding his mind, and one night he decided it was enough. The boy had gotten on better ground with his parents, pretending to be a good boy, pretending he cared. And they had been stupid enough to trust him again. He went hunting with his father, and basically pushed the old man, who had not expected it, into the hooves of an elk. His father got badly hurt, and Felias returned home screaming for his mother. He pretended to be scared and worried, but it all had been part of his plan. Panic and chaos in the air, his mother and his litter mates went to his father, and the younger siblings who had been sleeping in the den were forgotten for a moment.
Felias used that advantage to sneak into the den, and he did not hesitate, he did not waste time. His family would not be occupied for long, so he went ahead and killed his then three weeks old siblings, biting them to death. They had been asleep at that time, so there had been no struggle. Their lives had been short. And he had done it quick, because only minutes after his mother returned, realizing Felias had not come with them to find his father. She thought he had been lingering behind, but as soon as she saw him with the blood on his teeth, she realized she had made a big mistake. Her youngest pups were dead, all of them, and Felias had killed them.
She cried, she cried and begged and pleaded. She called Felias a monster, she wanted him gone. She begged him gone. And Felias left, not because she chased him out, but because he got bored of his life there. His mother did not scare him, he could have killed her just as easily. But he had ended up sparing her life, and leaving just for the sake of leaving. He wanted to explore the world. He wanted to live a life of action and thrills.
At the age of one and a half, he met a female, a pretty small white little thing, with blue eyes. She looked like an angel, and Felias wanted to have her. He spent days, weeks and even months trying to win her trust, trying to charm her. And eventually, she seemed to like him. Felias got what he wanted, and claimed her as his mate. He thought of starting his own family, of gaining his own pups and training them as warriors. He would not be as weak as his own parents had been to him. He would make his pups strong and be a great example.
But his mate, Saya, grew suspicious, wanting to know why Felias had all these ideas. He was not the wolf she had thought he was, the one she had fallen in love with. But there was no turning back now, since winter was upon them, and they had already mated. She wasn't sure if she was pregnant, but she did not want to wait around and find out. She demanded answers from Felias when he refused to talk to her, realizing he had slipped up. But he could no longer pretend to be someone else. After days of arguing, Saya left and Felias stayed behind. He did not need her. He didn't need anyone. From that day on, he decided he did not love, and he was better off without wolves like Saya. He needed wolves like him, with the same ideas as him. Not some angel.
At the age of two, he met a wolf named Kedos, and they became friends. It was odd, having a friend like him. Kedos was nothing like him, and yet they seemed to get along just fine. Kedos seemed to avoid conversations about Felias' past, so Felias was glad he never had to say anything. All they talked about was fun things. Who could get the biggest deer? Who could run the fastest? Who would win this fight? They had fun sparring. Maybe it was because Kedos had saved his life, and Felias respected him. Kedos had saved Felias from drowning, when the male slipped and fell of a cliff into a deep river, with a strong current. Maybe that was the reason why Felias respected him and didn't ever think of hurting his friend. But their happiness didn't last as they got separated during a snowstorm, months later. Once again Felias was alone. Tired of everything, tired of the good wolves, of the bad things, he decided to rename himself. Mordor became his new name, because it sounded ominous and dangerous. He liked that. Maybe Mordor tried to avoid other wolves from now on, maybe he did not want to socialize anymore. He never really found out his wants, himself.
The day Mordor turned four years old he found a new pack he could call his home, a pack that was something he had always dreamed of being part of. A pack with Soldiers and a General that trained them, the General being second in command over the whole pack. Mordor had fought countless battles, and he realized he wanted to live the life of a soldier. He joined the pack even though he preferred to be a lone wolf, but of course deep down his real reason for joining was because he wanted power and respect. He waited for the right moment to strike. His plan was to kill the General of the pack and take over his rank, becoming the new second in command and the new General that would train the young soldiers and command the adult Soldiers. His lust for power had never faded, even as he lived the life of a lone wolf. He learned some rules that would stick with him for the rest of his life, though. Maybe he followed them because they seemed to keep him under control. Never hurt an innocent, only your enemies. It stuck with him.
However, during that winter a huge snowstorm came, killing the General and a few hunters, and all the lower classed wolves; the weak ones. The pack had lost a lot of members and everyone was grieving. Mordor saw his chance to rise, having pretended to be loyal, all this time. The leader of the pack, who was still grieving and was amazed by Mordor’s strength and his will to live and take on any challenge, agreed with him, giving him the rank of second in command and General. Big mistake.
Mordor lived a peaceful life for two years, everyday training the Soldiers and commanding them on patrols, as well as giving the leader advise about certain things, but his opinion always was heard most, mostly because the leader thought of himself as a terrible leader due to that fatal snowstorm, and Mordor was the strongest wolf of the pack and considered everyone’s hero.
However, even with this peaceful life he had right now, and his big status, Mordor wanted more. He had gained a lust for power and blood. He wanted to become the leader, he found he deserved that rank more than their current leader did. After all, their leader was weak in his eyes. Useless. But as second in command he was high in rank and looked up to. He could not simply kill the leader or he might lose everyone's respect. He needed to be smart about this.
So instead of killing the leader he killed intruders that came into the territory and even killed a few new wolves that joined as low ranked wolves, because they stepped out of line and he considered them weak. He thought this way he would be the most loyal wolf of the pack. The true General covered in scars. But the leader saw how he had changed, finding him a lot more bloodthirsty than he used to be, and the leader got enough.
The leader came up to him, and told him to leave. Angry, Mordor snapped and attacked him, trying to talk him into feeling guilty, saying how he was the one that had made the pack big and strong again, that they would be nothing without him. But because he had only let in strong wolves, he was easily outnumbered and overpowered. He was chased out, and he fled. Angry again, he decided he would change his ways. He had bigger plans, better plans. Mordor would claim a land as his own and make himself the leader, and he would claim more and more land. He would fight other packs for territory. He would have the biggest pack in the world, and he would accept only the most fierce and the most strong wolves into his pack. And only if they were willing to fight alongside him. There would be no stopping him!
When he became five years old he met this wolf who was younger than him, yet a wolf that was almost just as strong and fierce, a wolf that wouldn’t back down from a fight and that would accompany Mordor in his quest for a new home. Mordor accepted Fenris into his pack, and made him his right hand; the Beta male. Together they traveled to find a new home, accepting new fierce and strong members that wanted to join them, and have Mordor as their leader, their shepherd. They were all messed up wolves, with plans, with mental issues. Mordor made good use of them.
Mordor soon found back Kedos, his old friend. But their reunion wasn't a happy one as things too a wrong turn. Mordor tried talking Kedos into having their packs join together, and Kedos agreed, but he did not want to step down as the leader. Two packs joining together... as soon as the pack became one there could only be one leader. And Mordor wanted to be that leader. But so did Kedos. Their packs ended up starting a war with each other, as Mordor wanted to take over Kedos' territory as his own. In the end however Kedos and his pack won and Mordor and his pack were chased off.
After their loss Mordor got into a fight with his Beta Fenris, and the pack fell apart. Mordor left the pack and started traveling far away, in search for a new home. At the age of five and a half years old, he wanted to live the life of a rogue, he decided. But of course fate had other things in store for him. One of his old members had followed him. A young and scared wolf, meek. The guy, Copper, felt he needed to follow Mordor. He had been so terrorized and brainwashed that he could not step away from his former leader, and Mordor ended up taking the guy under his wing even though he did not want to. Together, they found new wolves after a while. More wolves like his old pack members. With a heavy heart, Mordor decided to take on the role as leader again, and Copper became the message boy. The Sanguis Pack pack was established. Their motto became 'Nos es Sanguis'; 'We are for blood'. Another bad pack, that tried to take over territories of other packs. But Mordor felt himself growing old, and his lust for blood and power seemed to fade. They ended up in a war with the Silver Skies pack, but it did not last long. Mordor was done with the life of a pack wolf. He was done with the life of a leader. Again, the pack fell apart when he was just over six years old.
He was just so tired of it all. He was growing too old for constant fighting. Too weary. Now and then he still enjoyed a scuffle, but it became too much for him. Now, at the age of almost seven, he entered Horizon. Would fate want him to continue his bloodshed and his role as leader, or would he finally be able to rest?