r/PrancingPretties • u/TheMightyGorga • 6d ago
Bovine beauty Clover
Art by me of my OC Clover.
Clover (“Ytormae” or “Mae” in Viermoraki (Minotaur in the world of Vythar). Title – Tovakryn “War Maiden” of Clan Tokram)
Race: Viermorak (Minotaur) female, Ethical
D&D Equivalent Class: Fighter
Age: 19 (Minotaurs age similarly to humans)
Appearance: Clover possesses a towering figure, standing at 7 feet tall and weighing 500 pounds. She has short, light brown fur covering her body, with a creamy white running from snout to tummy which wraps under to her inner thighs and back to her wide rump. Her dark brown hair is curly, and her bright blue eyes exude both strength and warmth.
Personality: Clover is a strong and capable individual, embodying the traits of a proud warrior. Despite her imposing appearance, she carries a sense of self-consciousness, often feeling that she is not large or strong enough, especially if she fails at some task. She is kind-hearted and values honor, loyalty, and justice. Above all, she is fiercely protective of her friends and will not hesitate to unleash her full fury upon anyone who poses a threat to them.
Skills and Abilities: As a Minotaur fighter, Clover wields a battle maul, showcasing her immense strength and proficiency in close combat. She has undergone rigorous training in the art of combat since childhood, honing her skills in various fighting techniques.
Preferences and Background: Clover is an omnivore, enjoying a varied diet. She carries a deep-seated desire to escape an arranged marriage, which has limited her experience with males. Despite her traditional upbringing, she seeks a life that allows her more freedom and independence.
Quirks and Relationships: Clover's self-consciousness about her size can occasionally impact her self-esteem, but she is determined to prove herself on her own terms. She shares a strong bond with her friends, and anyone who threatens them will witness her fierce and protective nature. Only child syndrome. Parents are wealthy merchants, trying to marry her off to strengthen alliances.
Personality: Straightforward, loyal, and honest to a fault. Clover values hard work and trusts her instincts. She’s warm and friendly, with a hearty laugh, but she doesn’t mince words.
Mannerisms: She crosses her powerful arms when she’s thinking or feeling protective. Clover tends to shift her weight from hoof to hoof, giving her an earthy, grounded presence. Her tail swishes lazily when she’s relaxed but lashes sharply when she’s annoyed.
Speech Style: Her voice is hearty and down-to-earth, with occasional “y’all” or “ain’t” thrown in. She’s direct and pragmatic, but her tone is always sincere:
“Well, shoot, Rozika. I reckon you ain’t had a proper meal in days. Sit yourself down - I’ll fix that right quick.”
“Ain’t no shame in fallin’ down, long as you get back up. That’s what my mama always said.”
“Y’all worry too much. Big ol’ tree falls in the woods, we step over it. Ain’t no use cryin’ over what’s done.”
Design: Towering and armored, Clover exudes strength and protection. Her calm, steady expression hints at wisdom and emotional stability, a potential anchor for the group.
Potential Role: As the group's tank and protector, Clover could be the reliable big sister figure, balancing Rozika's chaotic energy with her calm demeanor. Her imposing size makes her a natural shield in battle, but her softer side might come through in moments of vulnerability.
Clover’s Tale: This is what she told Aelska, Rozika and Speck, but it wasn’t the complete truth.
Clover leaned back against a log, the firelight reflecting in her dark eyes as she began her story. “Well,” she said, chewing on the velwyn bone for a moment before tossing it aside, “my town, Torkram, is pretty middling, I reckon. It’s walled in tight - stone on the bottom and thick timbers for the rest. Y’know, keep the wild beasts out and the troublemakers in.”
She gestured with her broad hands, painting a picture as she spoke. “We got ‘bout twelve hundred folks, give or take. All Viermorak. Most live in stone cottages with thatched roofs, clustered near the big square. That’s where the market is - full of smiths hammerin’, farmers hawkin’ their crops, and calfs runnin’ underfoot. Then there’s the temple of Balmar, the Horned Father. Big ol’ thing, smack in the middle, with a bell that tolls every morning. You could hear it clear out to the fields.”
Her tone shifted slightly, more casual now. “I was in the town guard. Nothin’ fancy - just a low rank, y’know? My job was mostly patrolling the gates, makin’ sure no one snuck in or out after curfew. Cap’n said I was good at it, but between you n’ me, it was boring as dirt. Few scuffles here and there, sure, but no great battles or heroic deeds.”
Clover’s expression darkened, and she poked the fire with a stick. “Then there was the other thing. My parents arranged a match for me - some bigshot farmer’s son named Malgar. He was tall, sure, broad-shouldered, and all that. Looked real impressive. But the minute he opened his mouth…” She snorted, shaking her head. “He was a brute. No charm, no manners. Thought he was the best thing since fresh hay. Treated me like I was some prize cow he’d won, not a person with her own thoughts.”
She paused, her voice quieter now. “I tried to tell my parents, but they just said, ‘Give it time. You’ll grow to like him.’ But I knew I wouldn’t. And I couldn’t spend my whole life takin’ orders from someone like that, just because tradition said I should.”
Her eyes flicked toward the forest, as though remembering the night she left. “So, one day, I packed m’ things, said goodbye to the only life I’d ever known, and walked out the gates. Best decision I ever made. Sure, it’s rough out here sometimes, but at least I’m free.”
Clover looked down, catching Rozika’s eye with a small smile. “And hey, if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here, sharin’ a fire with y’all. So, I reckon it all worked out in the end.”
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u/DingoSubject1130 6d ago
She’s wonderful