full name;; Ridley Devel
nicknames;; none
gender;; male
age;; five years
breed;; Beauceron
alliance;; light

strengths;; amazing strength -- handsome -- would be a great leader if given the chance
weaknesses;; horrible runner -- past haunts him -- often plagued by nightmares
quirks;; talks in a strange dialect
notes;; none

eyes;; deep, dark brown
fur;; black & tan
full description;; Most females would consider Ridley handsome. His pelt is nothing special. He's got nice, thick skin tight to his body, bearing simple markings. His fur is primarily the darkest shade of black paired with light brown markings, like those on a Doberman or Rottweiler. His fur is smooth and sleek, only a small bit of fuzziness on the length of his tail. Pearly white teeth that are sharp as nails. Long, sturdy legs hold up a bulky frame. From years of training, Ridley has as much muscle as you could possibly stuff under his skin. He could lift a full-grown collie just as easily as a dam could cradle a pup in her jaws. But such extreme muscles amount to a lot of weight, and a lot of weight means he's not a strong runner. He's more like a tank. Slow, but tough. He's a huge dog, and rather intimidating, especially considering his personality. His ears were cropped, leaving two sharp-edged funnels. Double rear dewclaws prove that he is purebred. His front legs and neck have quite a few scars from the fights, which have been well-healed over the years. Adorned around his neck is a orangey-brown leather collar that was once studded but the silver studs have long since fallen out and only two remain. The most curious aspect of his appearance is the earring on his right ear. Being a champion dogfighter, his master had a silver stud pierced in his ear and dangling from it is a long pearly fang from one of his fallen opponents, one of the top three dogs who had been ranked higher than him. Until Ridley laid him to rest.

personality;; Trying to get to know Ridley and getting to his emotions is like mining for gold with a pencil. Ridley is as serious as they get. He rarely cracks a smile or resorts to sarcasm. Though he was always born serious, most of his heart was petrified as a result of the dogfights he was put through. He didn't like the dogfights, but did what he was told. Those took a huge emotional impact on him. He still likes himself, but he's not the proud egotistical champion most would expect. Ridley is almost always in a neutral mood, serious as ever. He's a strict leader, often though of as harsh, but in full honesty, he's only strict because he doesn't want any lives to be needlessly lost. If you look deep into his soul, he is a perfect example of a gentle giant. He can't stand to see others in pain, unless they deserved it, another effect spawned from his past. He does what he can to help, if he feels they deserves such. Though he would be a great leaver, Ridley would much rather prefer to be alone, free to his own will. His emotions advertise a void soul, but his soul betrays a merciful gladiator.

history;; Ripped away from the teat before his nose started twitching. Ridley was born in a location far-off from where the plot takes place, the reason behind his odd speech. Ridley was a born fighter, spawned from only the strongest of fighting dogs. Pit Bulls were too common and too slow and a more balanced breed was in demand. Beaucerons were the first choice, and it was a good choice. Ridley was brought up on formula designed to help him bulk up early, making him an absolute monster of strength. Ridley was literally raised in the fighting ring, knowing no other meaning for his life. Ever since he was a pup, Ridley was trained to fight. To challenge all and slaughter all. To rise up and become champion of the fighting dogs. All for his master's money and fame, throwing no regards to his own pain. Ridley gained strength fast and began pitting against other dogs. Ridley was indeed a monster. Any who fought him either died before their eyes or limped out with severe wounds. Though his name was Ridley, he was soon nicknamed Daggermouth and Devil's Face. To one's dying eyes, the crudely cropped ears would morph into horns and the dark brown abyss of his eyes would glow red, a spitting image of the devil. Ridley was proud of his victories, so long as they made his master proud. Ridley moved up in fame, and it became a worldwide fame-name. Years passed and at only four years of age, Ridley was up against his last match, against the reigning champion of dogfights. The dog to previously reign as 2nd place had been felled by Ridley and one of his fang adorns Ridley's right ear. But anyway, the match began. Ridley against the champion. The two struggled for what seemed like hours and both dogs started to tire. With one wrong move, Ridley exposed his throat and the champion grasped it between his jaws. Tattered and bleeding, Ridley was rendered unable to battle. Bathing in his own blood, Ridley whimpered a feeble sentence in a frail voice as he saw the champion's jaws heading for a final blow. "I'm sorry, master, I failed." Yet unlike most dogs who were condemned to feebly lying in wait for death to spirit them away, Ridley's owner scraped up his beaten dog. After all, a dog of such high fame could be worth some of the greenest dollars.
And he was.
Ridley was sold off to a rich family in need of a guard dog. There he was dubbed the name Devel. With little activity going on, Ridley Devel learned what peace and mercy were, and those became his favorite words. His old self was left behind in a husk. The flashing of cameras, a screams and cheers of ecstatic fans. It was all distant now. And the husk left behind a protagonist of a leaden soul and stone heart.
The family didn't pay much care to Devel, even though they had spent a fortune to acquire him. They didn't see that the chains bounding him to the property were loose. And they didn't notice the day he escaped.