Feral Heart

Regina's bio can be found www.tinyurl.com/Reginabio

 Illythia was named after the Goddess Ilithyia; she is known as the Goddess of children and birth. It is believed that there were once two Ilthyiae, but over the years merged into one goddess. Illythia grew up in Ancient Greece, living life as a fortunate upper-class citizen. She was daughter to Alexandra and Theron. As Illythia grew older, she became well known across Greece. Living up to her namesake, Illythia was loved by women and children alike. It wasn't until 480 BC that Illythia's seemingly perfect Athenian life turned sour.
    Her father, fueled by fear, attempted to revolt against Athens; he tried to rally fellow citizens, assuring them that joining Persia was for the better. Angered by his defiance, the Athenian leaders ordered the death of Theron and his family. The seventeen year old Illythia had been away from her home at the time, walking along the town borders. Upon entering the city, Illythia was dragged to the town square, where she and her mother were forced to drink arsenic, and her father was burned at the stake.
    It was then that Illythia was brought to Olympus. She had been chosen to become what was known at that time as a Daemon. Illythia was to be a spirit guide; she was to walk the Earth in various forms, inspiring humans in their trade, and invoking their faith in the Gods. For several decades, Illythia faithfully and unquestioningly did her work as a muse, and she enjoyed it. Over the years, she had come to know an Elder Daemon known as Eirene; She had grown to love her as she loved her own mother, and to think of her as such.
    Nearly a century after Illyhia had become a Daemon, whispers of rebellion spread through the ranks of the spirits. Despite the pleas of the Elders, the younger Daemons' whispers reached the ears of every spirit. Most of these spirits sided with the young ones; their reasoning being an eternity of servitude with nothing in return was not a 'gift', but  slavery. It was the Daemons who kept the faith in the Gods alive, and it was they who inspired the humans. In their minds it was they who deserved to rule over Olympus.
    As the whispers grew louder, Eirene and the other Elders knew it would reach the ears of the Gods, and greatly feared the outcome. Having grown attached too Illythia, Eirene took her to Earth, where she did what even the Gods thought taboo. Eirene split Illythia's soul in two, sparing her from the wrath of the Gods. Though, Eirene was not so lucky; In the following days, the Gods destroyed the Daemons, leaving very few, who were given the chance to redeem the Daemon reputation.
    Illythia and her 'brother' now inhabit wolf bodies; their markings are that of traitors. Illythia has a grey pelt, mimicking that of her Holy counterpart. Her pelt color showing wisdom, her black tail showing her hate. Her markings, while branding her as a traitor, are a silver in color, showing others of her hope. Illythia's eyes have remained the same from her human life: A clear crystal blue color. Her eyes also match the pendant that she wears around her neck. This pendant is what connects her to her brother. Should this token break, both halves of her soul will fade away.
    Due to Eirene's demise, Illythia despises all mentions of Gods in any form but, she still holds hope that one day, she will be able to rejoin the Daemons, and perhaps her soul become whole. Illythia is hot tempered, though, not as much as her ill-mannered 'brother', and has little to no patience at any given time. She tries to tolerate the Nocte that the pack seems so fond of, but won't hesitate to express her anger towards other gods. She tries her best to keep her emotions hidden, but occasionally, they surface.

Update!
    Illythia was killed by The Death Children. Had they only killed the body that hosted her soul, she would have reincarnated as an even more bitter and angry form of Kakodaimon, however her necklace was shattered as well. When the necklace was broken, both Illythia and Gailin's souls were torn from their hosts, and merged into a whole once again. Their soul was pulled to Olympus, where Zeus, along with Eirene, reinstated Illythia as a Daemon, and gave her the proper name of a Goddess. Eirene, who had visited the Mammon pack before convinced Zeus to send the reincarnated form of Illythia back to her pack, with the task of banishing the darkness that hung around their religion, and cleanse their souls. While both Eirene and the previous Illythia know this will never happen, Zeus ordered Ilithyia to stay with the pack for as long as it took; in other words, forever.
    Though Ilithyia knows that she is a Daemon, and knows that her charges are the members of Mammon, she is still a confused and frightful spirit who is struggling to gain control over both halves of her previously torn soul. Gailin, who was the murderous and hateful half, has a strange darkness attached to his spirit, and Illythia's spirit has a deeply embedded loyalty to the current ways and thoughts of those in Mammon. Though Ilithyia is a peaceful being, she may lash out from time to time at those who confront her from a demonic origin.   

Update #2
The loss of her beloved Bruton and now three of her pups has taken its toll on the dame. Ilithyia is half starved, and her mind has faded to the point of pure insanity. Beware. Her dimmed mind has made her more likely to attack all but three in her life now, as she can no longer differentiate friend from foe, or living from dead. More often than not, one can find her roaming the Golden Wood, or even the remnants of the pack's home in fluorite searching for Bruton, muttering to herself as she tries to determine if she's in Hell or if she is in fact still alive in the mortal world.

It was high noon on a crisp autumn's day. A brisk gale swept across the changing land that once held a vibrant array of colors in the Summer fields, now adorned in warm colors of rust, amber, gold, and auburn. They looked to be set aflame as they danced in tandem to the lilting tune of the Satyr's lute; an eulogy played in a serenade to Mother Nature's ever changing beauty. The death of the trees' bearings were scattered so that their mere demise was turned into something of beauty and content security. You find yourself lost in Mother's painted landscape as you take a trip through. You, a lone and lonely wolf set on your journey prompt for the desire and need to interact with those of your own kind. Those of a voracious spirit. It is a seemingly weightless hope, but something to strive for. You are weak and on the verge of starvation. You are dangerously thin and a wrecked mess. A writhing mass of maggots are feasting inside the cavity of a week old wound, preventing it from ever closing but also healing it and keeping more infection away. A horde of ticks huddle in columns inside one of your ears, making it hard for you to keep your focus and you are constantly pained with flashes of migraines as the blood from your dome is flushes away and gobbled up by the parasites. You push on your path for food and shelter.

Lively critters scampered through the remains in light revelry while the more lucrative residents were hard at work preparing their homes and food supply far in advance for winter's arrival. One such worker, a common fox squirrel, was busily scrounging up bundles of leaves, as much as he could fit between his little arms and scurrying back to his little knothole in the tree some lengths. He'd do this several times over with few breaks in between, unaware of a pair of large discs watching him in veiled observation.

"Hooo, look at the little one go~" The ominous voice finally crooned from its unknown position; somewhere high up in the trees. "So punctual in his natural instincts to prepare himself." The squirrel halted his quick paced animation of gathering and warily glanced around for the source of the voice.

"Who's there?" he squeaked, his little bush flared and twitched with accelerating caution.

"Oh, just an extra pair of eyes," the voice responded. It seemed to cone the entire area surrounding the squirrel, making it difficult to pinpoint its whereabouts. This made the squirrel extremely nervous if the ambiguous voice wasn't enough to do it.

"I-Is that right? Well, I... I do appreciate the extra... help, but I do believe I'm quite capable on my own, thank you." There was a gentle flutter of laughter from the presence that made the fox squirrel quietly clutch at his bundle for a false sense of security. "It's quite rude to converse without showing one's face. Do show yourself."

"Oh-ho? I do apologise then. I shall do as you wish," the melodic voice rang, it's own shortly revealing itself with the simple act of opening its eyes. Two large moons with a black center peered down at the gawking squirrel. They were relatively small, conveying the approximate size of the vessel. A pygmy owl, so skillfully melding within the bark of the tree that the only hint one with a skilled, observant eye would catch, would be the notice of ashen, speckled feathers undulating in the passing wind. "Greeting, I am Agathen." Agathen hobbled further away from his means of concealment along one of its limb's girth, greeting the squirrel with a smile that arched his beak to look bigger.

The squirrel visibly melted with relief at the sight of the dwarf owl, who would stand no higher than he were they at level with each other. He then immediately took offence to Agathen's previous attempts to spook him which proved to be a success. "Now see here, sir, you gave me a right scare there. You shouldn't go about doing that to others. It's just poor manners!" Agathen seemed to be inanimate the entire time the squirrel scolded at him, patiently waiting for the session to be over with a calm, even smile. "And another thing, what did you mean by saying you were acting as an extra pair of eyes? If you ask me, that's just an excuse to snoop on others."

"You are most right," Agathen was able to say. "That does sound like a nice excuse to snoop on others, but there's cause behind my... snooping. You see, you're in danger." He'd say this claim while upholding his endearing smile much to the squirrel's discomfort.

"What do you mean I'm in danger? Why, I feel perfectly safe. I'm within close range of my home and there isn't an impeding smell within measures." A quick whiff of the air and glance about reassured the squirrels confident debate. He then looked up to the pygmy owl with a sense of absurdity. "Unless the danger is you?"

Agathen's laughter flutters, almost effeminate in nature. "Come now, sir, you flatter me. One of my stature has no means nor the interest to quarrel anything that doesn't crawl on its belly." Whether it was nerves or the timely jest that prompt the fox squirrel to laugh in unison with the pygmy owl was unknown to the squirrel himself, but laugh they did, cascading a duet of shrilled laughter to ring out till its passed duration. "Yes, but you are, indeed, in danger."

"Of what?" the squirrel chortled through his recovering, "splitting my sides?"

"No, silly. Of the wolf behind you."

"What?"

A blurring visage was barely into view before it was coursing toward the fox squirrel in a blinding fury of teeth and fur. The quick witted squirrel was nimble enough to race away from the dangers of being chomped on in that sparse of time, trailing up the tree in a russet bolt, though its assailant proved just as nimble and impressively dexterous as it scaled right up the tree, using its claws as cleats to dig in the grooves and crevices of the bark. With a powerful surge, it propelled far enough to snag the fleeing squirrel but its hip, yanking it down from the tree. With another snap of the jaws, the beast secured its grip on its prey with gravid force; it punctures right into the back side of the squirrel. With the prize achieved, the shadowed beast drops from the tree to pound onto the earth where it ceaselessly rattles the hapless squirrel against any near surface till it's nothing but a flesh sack of shattered bones and oozing orifices.

Once the mutilation was done, the panting beast peers over its broad back at something unseen in the tangled foliage. "How was that for stealth, huh? Was straight up like a cat!" Despite the hulking mass of the fanged quadruped, it held a raspy yet epicene voice that commonly matched the profile of a brassy and hardy female. Her physique matched that of a virile male of her species, the wolf. She did not meet the height of one, however. Her sturdy legs only brought her three feet shorter than the average female. The jaws that held the lifeless squirrel was riddled with scars, all ranging in length, depth and age periods. They were prizes from previous brawls and battles, no doubt; a veteran of strife. Her night shaded pelt also wore the epitome of battle, more dominate near her nape and hind quarters. The warmistress was momentarily littered in debris and leaves, the aftermath of an intricate ruse to cover her scent and further win her points for a successful stealth kill.

"Aye, not bad, Kayle, not bad. I gotta say, for a lady of your... grace, you're pretty light on your feet." The battelion called Kayle was accompanied by another wolf, one who visibly deviated from his otherwise brutish counterpart. He wore the image of a dapper male; lengthy legs give him an almost condescending height and his frame swayed close to the term of being lithe, yet it held his masculine musculature, defined through his sheen of blue-ish short-haired coat. His image was close to perfect; not a blemish was in sight. The orderly male made sure to keep a clean profile as he'd tend to his delicate hide with careful coiffuring. That was probably why he'd occasionally let his more errant female companion do most of the dirty work.

"Teh-heh. Ya bet, bunny-boy. Poor thing never stood a chance," Kayla would brag as she'd brush pass the well groomed lad with a self accomplished grin.

"With much thanks to our winged friends, as you forgot to mention. After all, he did distract the squirrel long enough for you to get within range. Had he not, I don't think you would've gotten as close as you did."

The pygmy owl who still was in view or the two wolves below bowed his little round head as he was mentioned. "Always the gratitudinous one, Draven" Draven returned the bow.

Kayla suddenly paused in her steps and meekly turned to glance up at the Agathen. "Er, aye, thanks a lot, Agathen. You're a real pal"

"I know," Agathen jovially chimes, his arced smile widening. "But, to be fair, the squirrel did prove to be a rather talkative one. I believe that's what caused his death. But, in any case, it's always a pleasure doing business with you."

"Will you be coming back with us?" Kayle asked hopefully. By now, the pooling blood puddling her tongue was beginning to entice her with its metallic savory taste and aroma.

"No, no. I think I will catch my own lunch. You better get going, you're due for training and I know your Sire does not tolerate tardiness."

"Oh, shoot! I spent so long trying to hide me smell we barely had time for a proper lunch!" Kayle looked to Draven with apologetic eyes, revealing the subtle girl-ish charm in her. "Sorry, Venny."

Draven merely dismissed the matter with a quick head tilt. "It's ok. You worked hard for..." Draven suddenly lingers in his sentence, his attention now drawn by a smell as he is seen taking several whiffs. "Something foul is near," he finally says, his lips slightly lifted, the bridge of his nose wrinkled in distaste. "We're being watched." He points his nose towards the assumed source, directly where your hiding spot was positioned where you were able to watch the entire scene draw out without detection, until now.

"Here? Now?" There was a distinct hint of despair in Kayle's wavering voice as she notably drew closer to Draven; her honey eyes darted about the autumn grove. In almost an instant, the proud busty brawler was brought down to a fearful flake with her head held low and tail threatening to dip under her. "What in blazes are they doing way out here? This is close to our territory!"

"I don't know," Draven admitted in a low, wary husk, keeping his head and ears erect, attempting to calculate the numbers. "Agathen, what do you see?"

Agathen seemed unfazed by the pending encounter for he saw the truth behind their fears. "Not to worry, chums, there's only one, and by the looks of it, it seems to be alone, and in poor shape."

You feel your heart bang against your chest. You wouldn't be surprised to glance down and see the pulsating mound tear through your skin.

"If you could see that much why didn't ya tell us before it got this close?" Kayle snaps at the pygmy owl, exchanging her worries for misplaced anger.

Agathen didn't show the slightest of disposition from the snap. "As I said, the wretched thing is in poor condition. That's means it's alone and compromised. If I were you, I'd let it alone and send it on its way." With that said, the mini bird immediately took flight, calling out several indirect screeches.

"We ought to bail, too, Venny. If that thing's sicker than they usually are, we shouldn't care to stick around." The shadow pelt pressed against her partner, attempting to usher him from his leering stare into the bushes where you lay in suspenseful watch. He didn't seem to budge.

"We can't have it wandering around, polluting our part of the land either." It was more of a final conclusion than a debate.

"Don't be daft, Draven! Ya know it's dangerous to get any closer to that thing! You'll get sick! Ya'll go mad and start wanting to eat other wolves. And then who will have to haul yer girly rump back to the pack, huh? I'm sorry, you're cute, but not that cute!"

"It's obviously lost. If they wander into our territory there won't be a pack to go home to. We need to guide them where the rest of the unruly are... Near the Uplifts. Land of the RaVagers."


If you would like to join us, you can find Ilithyia Rhea, Solburner, or Red RaVage in game near Temple of Dreams.
Or simply reply to this topic with the following information:

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I am currently seeking dedicated staff members to help and lead Arulok. It will be a semi-realistic/realistic, literate, mapless pack with an exciting, unique plot and structures unlike many previous groups.

There are four pillars in all societies; Spiritual, Physical, Instinctive, and Logical but there is another pillar many don't know about. The fifth pillar is that of destruction and chaos. Arulok is the embodiment of that pillar.

Long ago, during the times of Knights and dragons, magic and sorcery, there was a land known as Orenda. Within the rocky mountains of Orenda sat a castle, ruled by a benevolent king. His kingdom though was plagued by a pair of dragons, who set fire to the quaint villages in the valleys. Wanting peace for his people, the King ordered his best men to slay the foul beasts and free the villagers from their destruction. That night, the soldiers marched out of the castle, armed to the teeth and ready to do battle with the winged beasts. The war raged on that night, countless knights fell, but so did a dragon.

The survivors returned to the castle as day broke over the mountains, the head of their kill in tow. In the distance, the mournful cries of the monster that escaped echoed through the valley. The Kingdom celebrated that day, and prepared to rid their land of dragons once and for all. They were not the only ones readying themselves, however. In his keep, the surviving dragon plotted his revenge. Enraged by the murder of his beloved, Attor called for the powers of the earth, summoning up the magic that remained in his aging body to curse the king and his family. As the knights chipped away at the stone barrio raised by the dragon, an eerie mist swept across the land, seeking out its target. The men had finally forced their way into the cavern Attor had hidden himself in; the mist surrounded the castle, creeping steadily closer to the slumbering king. The mountainside glowed orange, set ablaze by Attor in his final battle with the King's men. As knight after knight fell, the mist reached the King's chambers.

The hand of the King was surrounded by the violet fog, and in that moment all of Orenda fell silent. Then agonized screams filled the skies, and the singular, triumphant roar from Attor. The King and his men doubled over, their bodies contorting and writhing as they took on the form of beasts. The previously proud ruler, his loyal followers, as well as his beloved wife and children now stood on unstable paws, glowing eyes filled with confusion and anger.

Not all of the kingdom were given such a fate however. At the ruckus caused by the howling and baying of the wolves, noblemen rose from their bed to find their King's bed sheets in tatters, and two wolves tangled in what was the King and his Queen's clothing. Outraged by the assumed attack on the Royal family, the Noblemen armed themselves, and set out to kill each and every wolf discovered within the castle walls. Many managed to escape, but many others fell prey to the spears that they once fought alongside.

And so this is the beginning of Arulok. If you are interested in joining, please find me in-game on _-Phantomwolf-_ or Ilithyia Rhea


A roleplay sample is required for all members.

www.arulok.forumotion.com

While all wolves are welcome to join the pack, staff members must adhere to the story above when creating character biographies. Ex Alphas, rogues, etc. will not be eligible to become leaders of the pack at this time. This will change in the future.
If I'm not online, feel free to leave a message either on the Arulok website or here with the following information:

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I agree with this kind, and I'm quite happy. The General Chat always were made to advertise RP's, not to chat. It is a good idea, less "lag", less spam, more time to read the phrases.

I quite have a good idea.. (Suggested by Devynex in-game) Why not a chat called "RP Advertisement" and other "Eternal" (to chat)? <--- quite a bad name, I know xD

But well... I think people who will blame are spammers.

Unfortunately, Raz and the staff weren't left with any coding for the game in order to make more chats. They're having to work with the game as it is.