OC SPOTLIGHT: Qaragan // sfw

qaragan was a member of clan enkhjargal, a weaponsmith and warrior by trade. he was known not only for his great skill at the forge but also for being the biggest werewolf most people had ever seen, towering over even the rhaajim (the dragon folk) and with arms the size of tree trunks. personality-wise he was solid and reliable, calm and patient, never one to abuse his size by acting like a bully. if anything he used his formidable presence to deter fights and conflicts from even happening, choosing to be a protector and peacekeeper.

that's not to say there was much peace to be kept. being nomadic, clan enkhjargal often traversed areas under unofficial control by the galtais, a werewolf raider tribe that engaged in a wide variety of vile criminal activities (you may remember them from the nokai spotlight). qaragan's whole clan despised the galtais and while the arm of the imperial law couldn't reach their distant corner of the desert, the enkhjargals often took it upon themselves to get in the bandits' way. they intercepted their raiding parties, liberated galtai slaves, protected villagers, caravans, and travellers, and captured members of the cruel clan whenever they could, handing them over to imperial officials.

it was after the capture of galtai's own brother that he decided to make an example of the enkhjargals. he knew that they kept themselves mobile and stuck to guerilla tactics because they didn't have the manpower to face his clan in a head-on battle. now the tables turned and the criminal warlord laid a trap for his enemy. 

the fight that ensued turned into a bloodbath. 

normally, the galtais would take prisoners and slaves, but this time they simply wanted to destroy clan enkhjargal. qaragan was the last man standing, and the only reason he survived was that the galtai prince who was in charge of the massacre--minghan--thought that the massive wolven smith would make a nice trophy. as the bodies of his family and friends were left to be swallowed by the desert dunes, qaragan was chained and taken to the galtai headquarters, the mark of a slave freshly branded into his shoulder.

he spent the next few years in living hell. during they day they forced him to make weapons, and come the night they threw him into the fighting pits.

it wasn't easy to tame him. in the beginning he would resist and disobey by principle, but a man can only endure so much torture and pain. he was beaten and whipped and cut and burned, they denied him food and water and rest, cut off his ears and tail and blinded one of his eyes. as the weeks turned into months, it became more and more difficult to endure. it didn't stop at mutilating his body, either, and the way the galtais tormented his mind was even more cruel. they threatened to hurt other slaves if he didn't obey, promising to bleed them dry in front of his eyes, to make them scream and whimper and beg until he could be a good dog who did as he was told. little by little, his willpower crumbled away. with every new scar, it became easier and easier for the galtais to control qaragan.

worst of all was what the things they made him do in the fighting pits. qaragan suffers the same as other werewolves: when faced with a dangerous situation or overwhelmingly intense emotions, he might fly into a violent frenzy. that's how they got him to fight in their arena. they would pit him against another slave or captured enemy, and goad and hurt his tortured body into a mindless rage. against his own will the huge werewolf became a prize fighter, a veritable gladiator forced to maim and kill for the galtai's amusement. his fellow slaves saw him slaughter his opponents and even if he wasn't doing it willingly, it made most of them fear him. the guilt of the things he had done to avoid more pain weighed heavy upon qaragan, and so he mostly kept to himself, choosing loneliness instead of facing the others.

after a few years, the galtais had broken him. his body was covered with scars from the torture and the pits, and his mind had no more resistance to offer. they called him munokhoi--bad dog.

the galtais are the villains of many of our stories, and eventually a few different groups--spearheaded by the scoundrels and a clan called zahradam--band together to deal with the hated raider tribe once and for all. by that point prince minghan has deteriorated into madness, murdered his own father, and taken control of the clan. the conflict culminates in a final confrontation, an all-out battle in the desert. as the tides seem to turn against the galtais, minghan grows desperate and brings his gladiators to the battlefield, including qaragan.  

the coalition of freedom fighters watch the enormous werewolf getting dragged to the frontline, already goaded into a raging frenzy and just barely contained by the chains clasped around his neck and arms. minghan orders him set loose on the enemy, but as his soldiers let go of the fetters the munokhoi doesn't lash out at the scoundrels and nomads. instead the horribly scarred up slave snaps back towards his captors and tormentors, hardly giving them a second to realise their mistake before he's upon them.

none of the galtais can withstand the massive creature, a one-man calamity forged in the fires of their own fighting pits. before the added sum of many little wounds bring him to his knees, he has killed one galtai for every innocent slave they ever forced him to hurt. when he collapses onto the blood-soaked sand he's ready to die with the knowledge that in some little way he has avenged them.

as the dust settles the victorious scoundrels and nomads walk across the battlefield, collecting their dead and looking for survivors. a certain elf by the name of na'im has volunteered as an amateur medic and it's he who happens upon qaragan, barely breathing but still alive. the last thing the smith sees before his vision turns black is a glimpse of soft curls and concerned green eyes.

next time he blinks awake qaragan finds himself laying in a warm tent, bandaged up and washed clean of blood and grime. but he has no idea where he is and after his years of living a nightmare he expects nothing but more hurt and torture to walk through the door. once someone peeks inside the bed is empty and there's a monstrous wolf backed up into a corner, growling and snapping at anyone who tries to get close, even though he can barely stand from bloodloss and pain.

it's only when na'im shows up that his mutilated ears perk up in something else than a pinned-back warning. qaragan recognises his emerald eyes and the scent of the person who had found him in the deathly quiet aftermath of the battle. the elf approaches carefully, his voice so soft he almost seems to be singing, and the snarling in the wolf's throat slowly subsides. 

qaragan learns he's been taken to the scoundrel headquarters and nursed back from near death. he knows of this loose organisation, criminals all but cut from a different cloth than the galtais. they have a code of honour and lawless or not, any place is better than the galtai slave pits. (see nokai's and jin's stories for more info about the scoundrels.)

once he's healed up a bit he's taken before the leaders of the scoundrels, the so-called royals, who ask him who he is and what has happened to him. qaragan is as suspicious of them as they are of him, but they have heard about the extinction of the enkhjargal clan, and learning about the hellish years that followed explains his behaviour. as for what they should call him he only tells them munokhoi, unwilling to offer the little bits of himself that are still enshrined in his real name.

he's granted stay in the scoundrel headquarters, but for the first little while he doesn't trust anyone except na'im, his chosen safe harbour in a world of uncertainties. perhaps it's instinct that draws him to the curly-haired elf, or perhaps it's simply the fact that he abounds with gentle kindness. na'im keeps treating his injuries, cuts and combs his matted hair, holds his shaking hands when all the memories become too overwhelming. people soon become used to the sight of a huge wolf padding after na'im wherever he goes, because at this time qaragan spends a lot of time in his wolf form, barely interacting or speaking to anyone except the elf. na'im works at the scoundrel tavern and soon prepares a cozy nook under the bar for his new friend, a nest of pillows and blankets, so different from the cold dirt he'd slept on in captivity. right then that's what he needs most; to curl up and sleep for hours, making up for years after years of no true rest.

that's not the only way that na'im showers him with much needed tlc. qaragan is starved for food and basically inhales anything edible within arm's reach; na'im happily cooks for him, until it starts sinking in that he won't have to go hungry again. fuelled by proper nutrition he puts on even more muscle mass and a healthy layer of fat, making people joke that na'im needs to stop feeding him before he becomes too damn big. but more than food he's starved for affection and the kind of touch that doesn't hurt. while other scoundrels can't even get within two meters of him within being met with bared teeth, he lays his head in na'im's lap and lets the elf pet and scratch him for hours. na'im learns how to comfort his restless soul, soothe him when he's triggered, and even how to calm him down from the brink of frenzy. qaragan eventually tells him his real name, and na'im treasures the knowledge.

before long he has become very protective of the elf, who occasionally has to endure the same unwelcome advances as any other tavern worker. not that na'im can't fend for himself (he has a history of smacking rude people in the face with cooking pans) but now he's also got a personal guard dog who doesn't hesitate to scare the shit out of anyone who seems to bother him. seeing the big wolf keep his eye on the room or make his rounds among the tables usually makes even the most rowdy visitors behave themselves.

the other scoundrels are still figuring out what to make of him. as he gets more used to his new surroundings he starts coming out of his wolf form shell, but his human form isn't any less fearsome. on the surface of things qaragan is a mess of nasty scars, with his one blind eye, lip locked in a half-snarl, and broken nose. his ears are mutilated, his tail cropped, and he's got old injuries that ache in bad weather. he's as huge as ever and the look on his gruff face is difficult to interpret--there's so much pain in his good eye, but also so much blood on his hands. in short, he looks intimidating and dangerous and though people sympathise with his story it's difficult _not_ to be wary of him.

the scars on his mind and soul are worse than those on his face, though. after so many years of being surrounded by people who took every chance to hurt him, he's become conditioned to expect pain and abuse, to always be on edge. most of the time he's tense, paranoid, and easily triggered by certain situations, sounds, sights, and words, a slave to trauma long after the death of his captors. when he sleeps he often has nightmares and it pains na'im to see qaragan the wolf twitch and whine in his sleep as much as it hurts when qaragan the man wakes up in a cold sweat and with a wild look in his eye. while the werewolf tries to avoid any kind of combat or violence there's plenty of scoundrels who thrive off of it and who would love to square off against the 'galtai gladiator.' however, they soon learn that it's not a good idea to try to goad the munokhoi into a fight--in a flash it brings him back to the pits and it's only na'im who can calm him down from the murderous frenzy that threatens to ensue.

qaragan bitterly tells the royals that he probably shouldn't stay--he's too unstable and doesn't want to hurt anyone. but the duchess of cards thinks he should stick around for at least a while longer. "i think you might find peace here."

it's a long road to recovery, and certain wounds run too deep to ever fully close up, but na'im never wavers from qaragan's side. he promises the werewolf that he'll never again have to go hungry or thirsty, or sleep on cold soil, or clothe himself in filthy scraps. he'll never again have to fear any pain, get forced to obey, or get another scar. and he'll never have to be lonely again. the elf is there with him through the good and the bad, giving him reasons to remember how to smile, and wrapping his arms around him when the weight of it all becomes too heavy. without hesitation na'im offers him a home in his house and his heart, knowing that there's no reason to fear a tortured dog who, despite all his scars, has so much love left to give.

with na'im's help, qaragan gradually gets more comfortable around other people, and little by little the scoundrels start understanding what na'im had always known. as qaragan settles into life among them, they get to see more and more sides of him. his natural impulse is to help whenever he can, and his gruff and fearsome exterior hides a kind and gentle heart. once he's ready he sets up a forge and plenty of people are glad to have such a skilled weaponsmith in their midst, but more importantly qaragan thrives from having work to do again. beyond loving the craft he enjoys being useful to those who are gradually becoming his new family, and keeping his hands busy is its own kind of therapy.

speaking of 'family' it really is the right word to use, because he's such a pack animal, who instinctively takes on the role of big brother or even father figure to those in need of it. now that he's free he subconsciously seeks redemption for the wrong he did by helping others; it makes his own pain easier to deal with. qaragan was far from the only victim of the galtais, and not the only one taken in by the scoundrels. he's still ashamed to face people who saw him murder in the pits, but relieved to be met with more understanding and empathy than he expected. they all know what the galtais were like, and many of them did things they're not proud of.

at the other side of all the demons he's fighting there's someone reliable and loyal, sensible and practical, direct and no-nonsense. a stranger might well describe him as grumpy, reserved, or even unapproachable, but a friend  would laugh and assure them that beneath that gruff surface he's gentle and patient. he only speaks when he has something to say, has a good nose for sniffing out bullshit, and doesn't tolerate it when people try to take advantage of others. he still doesn't like violence and only resorts to such means to stop a fight from happening, or to protect the people he loves.

on that note, qaragan wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly when he started loving na'im, but it's not long before it feels like he always has. it's not simply that the elf was good to him when he most needed it--na'im is wholesome and honest through and through, fearless in his kindness and hopelessly unselfish. there's much to adore about him and though qaragan would hardly say the same about himself, nai'm seems to have a different opinion. 

somewhere along the way, the air between them grows sweeter. na'im regularly insists on rubbing soothing salves on the deep, stiff scars of qaragan's face and back, and somehow the touch of his fingertips seems softer. what started as medical care turns into moments of tentative intimacy, ripe with tender warmth. the elf soon discovers that despite having such huge and rough hands qaragan's touch is equally gentle, and the way he looks at him goes beyond simple fondness. their lives in the scoundrel headquarters already seem more about the 'we' and 'us' than the 'i' or 'me,' because they spend more time in each other's company than apart. with every passing day the bond of loyalty, trust, and devotion between them knits itself stronger and stronger, and pulls them closer and closer together. 

as mentioned above the loyal smith is protective of na'im, and the same holds true for the other way around. the elf is dainty but feisty and very ready to angrily defend his werewolf from insensitive bastards. every now and then someone tries to pick a fight with qaragan and more than once na'im steps up to yell at them, before qaragan has even had the chance to say a single word. on a less dramatic note he makes a habit of bringing qaragan lunch at the forge, even trying to recreate his favourite food from before his enslavement, and woe upon anyone who tries to disturb qaragan during his sacred lunch break. as soon as he leaves the smithy he returns to na'im's side, where he belongs. 

their first kiss is soft and lingering, like balm for the soul. not too long after, na'im invites qaragan to his tent for "tea." 

a couple of years later they're married, and nobody can quite imagine the scoundrel hideout without the laconic smith. many of them use weapons and tools and armour he's crafted--and people love telling the story of how qaragan spent more time and careful effort crafting a cooking knife for his spouse than most people of his profession would spend on a sword for a king. beyond being an excellent craftsman and reliable ally he's known as a devoted husband, a good friend--and a great father. 

you see, his and na'im's life together had one day taken an unexpected turn, as they received a seemingly normal delivery of goods to the tavern. hidden among the barrels and boxes was a very small vampire child, an absolutely terrified orphan without a home or family and ghosts of his own to run from. 

it was no surprise to anyone that the tiny vampire took refuge in na'im, instinctively trusting the kindhearted elf just as qaragan had. but to everyone's astonishment--qaragan himself included--the little child also sought out the werewolf for comfort and safety, seemingly unafraid of his scarred up appearance and huge frame. qaragan still had a habit of napping in his nook in the tavern, shifted into his wolf form and curled up among the blankets; the tiny vampire quickly took to crawling up with him, falling asleep with his little face mushed into his mane. the first time it happened qaragan and na'im exchanged a glance and long story short--from that moment on they became parents. it came so naturally to both of them to care for the child, whom they named kha. if anything it took some trial and error to figure out exactly how to care for their son's dietary needs, but before long their home was well stocked with packets of blood to feed him with. 

they basically get a second kid after kha becomes best friends with an elven child named rahim, whose care they come to share with renza (the prince of knives) and his partner, iskandar. to be honest all the scoundrel kids love both na'im and qaragan, and they often end up entrusted with babysitting the little ones as their parents embark on various adventures. qaragan, abounding with paternal instincts, couldn't be happier.

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qaragan is literally based on stories of dogs who get rescued and rehabilitated after suffering the hell that is dog fighting rings. he's basically a rescue pitbull who has gone through so much pain, but who still wants nothing more than to love and be loved. kubi described him as someone who 'looks like a disney villain but who is really just a big buff dad,' which is a very on point. but the real hero of his story is na'im, who kissed his scars and soothed his aches. from the very start he helps qaragan deal with c-ptsd, and bit by bit they create a life and a home and a family together (on that note, kha grows up to have a whole storyline of his own, but that's for another OC spotlight). in the words of hozier, the elf never asked him once about the wrong he did, and never hesitated to love him.

this was another one of those spotlights where typing it up gave me so many feels. i hope you enjoyed it, and i'd be happy to answer any questions about qaragan in the comments! <3

// art + qaragan + kha © me; na'im © kubi.