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Fantasy Thrones of Darkness - Wolf RP (Open!)


“In your sword still beats a heart.”

  • The Takala live on the soil of a very precious commodity: a hunting ground rich in life. Their hunters have never known hunger, their priestesses haven’t needed to treat wounds without their herbal remedies. And the Vahlos, a kingdom that has lived to the mountains north of them in peace for centuries, are now a looming threat, their bellies empty due to their queen’s persistence on overhunting, and her own mind wrought with a secret grudge. Circe and her troops have been responsible for many deaths of the Takala, including the recent assassination of their leader, Zaros, who had never sired an heir.

    With the Takala vulnerable and without leadership, an emperor by the name of Lazarus Rokan heard of this news from a fleeing Takala hunter while leading the survivors of his clan, the Nashoba, across the wilds of Endala to find themselves a new territory. They had been driven out of theirs mere weeks ago by a devastating forest fire that claimed the lives of many of their troops.

    But this Lazarus is no savior of the Takala. Him and his soldiers assumed dominance over them, assimilating them with the Nashoba and staking their territory as their own. This emperor is on a brutal conquest, a mission to slowly spread his grasp over each and every clan that makes its home in the wilds. And before the fire, he was successful; The Nashoba are known for their greed and their viscous fury on the battlefield. And Lazarus is known as the monster who killed his father in cold blood for the throne.

    Now, the Takala are faced with a fatal decision: where must their loyalties lie to survive? Lazarus may be a tyrant, a monster, but the Nashoba may be their only hope in defense against the malicious queen Circe and the Vahlos, who have only temporarily eased their pressure due to the Takala’s change in leadership. Will they stand beside an evil emperor to fight for their land, or try to beg for a wicked queen’s mercy? Or will they run, and leave their heritage and legacy behind?

    (IC = in character, OOC = out of character)

    OOC chatter goes in this topic, and when the RP starts I will make an IC topic for the RP itself. The IC topic will also include dynamic information such as season (currently late summer), time, and any recent or upcoming events.

    We’re a lot more active now on Discord, so if you’d like to join our server, the invite link is here:

    Thrones of Darkness Discord

    Above, you will see four tabs for your ease of navigation. Below, I will give a brief summary of what you will find in each one.​

    You are currently reading this tab!

    This will provide rank descriptions, openings, and links to the page of a character's signup for easier navigation. Past the rankings of the packs, it also includes Adoptions for high ranks that need to be auditioned for or family members of existing characters.

    This includes the territory descriptions of the packs, their lore, religion, and customs, and the former ranks of the Takala. I would highly suggest reading through it all, even though it's a lot, since it will give you insight as to how these groups operate and how to better shape your characters.

    When you're ready to create your character, this is the form you will need. Post character signups in this thread, but send any auditions for important roles to my PMs.

    I. Be courteous to everyone. Drama must be kept in character.

    II. No power-play or god-modding. This includes (but is not limited to) controlling others’ characters, giving your character OOC knowledge they wouldn't otherwise possess, or the maiming/killing of other characters without their writer's permission.

    III. Please provide at least one decently-sized (5+ sentences) paragraph per post.

    IV. If you want to begin a plot/implement a character or character change that greatly affects the plot or lore of the story, please post it in plot approval and wait for a response.

    V. Regarding explicit content, follow RP Nation’s site guidelines. Any descriptions of violence and gore must be contained within spoilers. Explicit sexual content is NOT allowed, and to be safe, it is paramount to add a spoiler with a warning to any posts that contain suggestive or offensive language/cursing as well. Silvana may reach out to a moderator and ask for some further clarification on what we can and can't get away with.
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“In your sword still beats a heart.”

Lazarus Rokan :: Emperor of the Nashoba :: 4 yrs :: Male :: Heterosexual

"There are no strings on me."


Lazarus was built to kill; he is the wielder of a massive build that is well-toned from years of war, and tends to tower over other members of his species. He is a titan, and walks with authority in his stride. His presence is ominous, like that of a reaper coming to collect your soul. Optics are a deep, fiery orange hue, and he is swathed in a striking ebony pelt. Lazarus was born handsome and youthful, but evolved into something truly nightmarish. The flesh along his right flank and side is ravaged by the fire that claimed his home, and he has various scars -- some of which are from the wars he fought, and others punishments inflicted by his father. One extends from the left side of his muzzle and is drawn with hatred across his lip (this was a mark from his father), and is the most prominent; others are scattered across his hide. Lazarus’s voice is deep and gravelly, and he tends to draw his syllables out. He doesn’t often speak, but when he does, it is usually done so with strong intent.


Lazarus was born into royalty, the son and heir to his father Talos Rokan of the Nashoba. His father was a cruel yet cowardly soul, and as Lazarus aged, he began to use him to fight his battles for him, like a piece on a chess board, a puppet directed by strings. Talos was greedy, and sought more than what his pack ever needed; he waged war on neighbouring packs, and used his son’s bravery and skill in battle to bring them to their knees and pillage their lands. As a result, the Nashoba prospered, and expanded their reign far across the wilds. Talos recruited more soldiers, though his prized possession was always his son. When Lazarus disobeyed an order, however, Talos would descend into a fit of rage and often scar him, to remind him that Lazarus was his inferior. The Nashoba King held no love for his son or even his lovely mate, Meridia Rokan. Away from prying eyes, he would treat them cruelly, and even in the public eye sometimes his true colours would shine through, just for a second -- but never enough for anyone to suspect much of anything. Lazarus’s scars were easily passed off as battle wounds, his bitterness assumed to be his natural disposition. Lazarus never told anyone of the horrors he experienced, though deep down he held a loathing for his father. His relationship with his mother was no better; though he didn’t despise her as much as his father, he saw the same cowardice in her, for she stood by and did nothing of her lover’s treatment of her own son.

Lazarus had always distanced himself from others unless it was to show his dominance to his subordinates (which was encouraged by his father). At the age of three and a half, when he challenged his father for the throne, everyone was appalled. It was customary for the Archduke to succeed their father’s throne when they passed on, to honor their death and to continue their bloodline. Few had actually challenged their own parents for the throne, let alone a reserved wolf like Lazarus. But Lazarus had been plotting this for some time now; he dreamed of a world where he could break free of his strings and become a ruler himself. And so, Lazarus and Talos fought to the death, which was an easy victory for the younger Rokan, given his experience in battle -- poetic, really, how his father’s greatest weapon had been his demise. He killed his father without a shred of remorse, before the whole pack to witness, and tossed his lifeless body into a ravine for the crows to feast on. He declared himself the Emperor of the Nashoba, and explained to them that he would grant them a far better future than his father ever could.

Lazarus then waged his own wars. He still wished to expand the pack’s reign, but did so far more strategically. Many members of the pack held a dislike for him, as they saw him as a monster that had murdered his father merely for power. However, he managed to secure their loyalty when he defended the pack against an invasion led by one of their enemies. Lazarus slayed Miraak that day, the alpha of the Lashokan tribe, to the northeast. It was from then on that it became more apparent to his subjects that he did intend to protect them, to watch them prosper. However, that did not make his methods just. Lazarus had suffered abuse, had spent his entire life under another’s control. Though he preaches about paradise and prosperity, the reason he so adamantly wishes to recreate his father’s conquest is because he came to the realization that, in order for no one to ever control him again, he must hold the power. Every last bit of it. And that he must bleed his enemies of every last drop.

For a mere half a year, he ruled, until a devastating forest fire obliterated the Nashoba territory -- even the surrounding forests they had conquered. Lazarus made it out alive, but not without losing a piece of himself to the flames. Only half of the Nashoba survived, though Lazarus did not allow this to deter him from his plans of domination. After living nomadically for a couple of weeks, a former member of the Takala told him of the recent assassination of their former alpha, and how the pack was now in ruins due to having no heir to inherit the throne and being days away from a war with the Vahlos. The Nashoba Emperor saw this as an opportunity to continue his conquest, as he needed numbers to strengthen his army, and he knew that the Takala would need protection against the northern tribe. Lazarus demanded to be taken to their camp, and staked his claim on the remainder of the pack once he arrived. No one rose to challenge him, and ever since then he’s been scheming how to eliminate the threat of the Vahlos, and gain the favour of his new subjects.


His heart is colder than ice and his will stronger than fire. He is a war machine and a conqueror, a cunning schemer and, if given the opportunity, a ruthless ruler. Lazarus is brutal, calculating, and patient; he will always strive for something greater, but will wait years if it means reaching the perfect outcome. The fear of control, however, tends to rule him, and his actions can become more unpredictable, his temper more volatile, if this becomes too threatening.

He prefers to make decisions based on his own outlook on the world -- which is a rather dark one -- rather than allowing the influence of others. Because of this, he can be a tyrant. However, the Emperor does have a touch of a manipulative side, as he understands the importance of politics and impressions. While he doesn’t sugarcoat his words in the way you might expect, he uses his own flawed logic and sometimes even threats to sway one’s choices. However, Lazarus’ ambition doesn’t come from greed, like his father’s, and nothing he does is for the sake of doing it. He believes that this conquest of his, it will succeed in ways his father’s never had, and most importantly, set himself free.


-Meridia Rokan (mother, alive). I’d totally love someone to play her, by the way, so see "Adoptions" if you're interested.

-Talos Rokan (father, deceased)


-Voice claim: James Spader as Ultron

-His scent is charcoal and the underlying whiff of alder

-Has a bit of a cough from the fire that occasionally makes an appearance.

-Tends to twitch his scarred lip a lot out of habit.


“In your sword still beats a heart.”

Pythus Arezio :: Paladin of the Vahlos :: 3 years :: Male :: Heterosexual


Draped in a soft, meticulously-groomed pelt of cream and butterscotch, it is clear that vanity is not lost on Pythus. His distinctively handsome features and charming grin have been known to win the affections of many, and his twin pools of liquid gold have been said to melt hearts. Though he isn’t exceptionally tall or strong, training keeps his body toned, and pride holds a fluffy, regal tail high.


Above all, Pythus is conceited and egotistical. For years, his self-worth has ridden solely on the achievements of others, compensating for his own lack of accomplishment. He feels the need to shout this false worth to the world, always bringing arrogance into his conversations and meeting the requests of others with a carefree sarcasm. Pythus does what he wants when he wants to, and he’s not used to being told no. He desires fame and fortune, but he doesn’t want to work for it. The young paladin will often be found skipping out on training exercises to sunbathe or swim in the pools of the Vahlos Falls. He fears equating to nothing, and yet he dreads responsibility more.

But Pythus is not without his charm, even if it is difficult to find past that barrage of self-importance he’ll often hit you with. He’s typically nicer to those of the female variety, and will shamelessly flirt with she-wolves even if they’re made uncomfortable by his advances. However, his outward confidence in himself does not always make up for his debilitating refusal to play well with others.


Pythus is the younger brother of the previous Queen, Memphet, and ever since he was old enough to speak, he made sure that everyone knew it. He spent his life basking in her status, the royalty of his family’s name (the Arezios had ruled the Vahlos for generations). His relation to the Queen got him out of countless mischievous incidents and misdeeds, which created judgment from many of his pack members, earning him a low reputation that was kept secret only because Memphet was extremely protective over her younger brother. All he knew was affluence and vanity, though he didn’t envy his sister’s title, for he knew of the responsibility she faced.

But Pythus’ privilege only lasted until Circe challenged his sister for her throne. When Memphet failed to meet her opponent’s skill, she was banished from the Vahlos, as customary in the clan, and the Arezio name was no more. It no longer held its influence, and Pythus no longer had a guardian angel to watch over him if he was to be put in his place.

With his status stripped from him, Pythus is nothing but a stuck-up, irritating liability within the Vahlos. At least, that’s how others often view him. He feels lost without his sister’s success, and he is struggling to find a way to prove himself to his clan and find some meaning behind this bitter life that he is now stuck with.

But the perks aren’t the only thing he misses. Contrary to popular belief, he loved his sister, and part of him can’t help but hate Circe for her fall, even if he’ll never be brave enough to raise a paw against her.

- Memphet Arezio (sister, unknown)

- His scent is of jasmine and citrus.
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Name; Kaya Remira :: Rank; Dame from Nashoba:: Age; 4 years :: Gender; Female :: Sexuality; Heterosexual

“Cause there’s just no turning back”

Gray like ash, thick fur, with only black markings on a ears and stripe above a dark nose, easily attracts attention from other wolves. The wolfshe herself can be attractive to some, in terms of light, slim but also athletic posture and elegant slow step. Apart from this ... positive features, this body building is very useful for tracking and chasing. Remira has good condition, which usually allows her to chase after a “prey” for as long as it’s needed. She even has enough energy to jump on a running wolf. The strong black claws, that Kaya usually hurts the target by them, are hard to break. And although they are her most powerful weapons, with the help of a strong jaw, Remira can nibbles opponent at the very end of the fight. The last thing worth mentioning about the fight is that although she's perfect for chasing, she would avoid starting conflict with her fellow brothers and sisters. This is mainly due to the fact that Remira recently changed her role from huntress to dame. Because of this, wolfshe still has to learn a new technique of hand-to-hand combat, different from the chasing one for hunting’s. Females eyesight is perfectly. It will be hard to escape from her intense hazel eyes.

Well, where I should start? She became the huntress at the age 2. Kaya’s first time to shine while doing her job wasn’t remembered in any particular way by anyone. Almost every hunt, in which Remira participated, have ended with a great feast. This activity makes wolfshe really happy. But that rank wasn’t her goal. She needed something higher, more respected, and of course, more admired. Long time passed and her dream started to come true. Somebody decided to switch Remira to the dame. Though not yet the elite, but wolfshe was satisfied for a few days.

Very specific person. Kaya most of time looks grumpy and generally dissatisfied. She often feels irritated and angry towards everything that *dared* to be around her. Maybe that’s because of so many worms and dust in her place or maybe because of the position in the Nashioba... Probably both of them. After all, wolfshe tries to be more pleasant and friendly while interacting with others. She always speaks calmly, politely and with manners. In the company of others, Remira watches herself to do not swear, arguee or wish someone badly. However, it looks like wolfshe isn't looking for any kind of relation, but only being nice just in orderto do not make an enemies and have various benefits from others.
She dosen't like help from the others. But if the situation requires it, Kaya will ask for it with a slight disgust. Well, female has always preferred to be independent. She dosen't want to be seen as a weak, unable to do anything creature, want to be the opposite of that at all costs. That's why Kaya is obsessed with climbing to the top of the pack hierarchy.
Her next little dream, which, honsetly, she likes a lot more, is to be a loner. Remira is admittedly loyal to Nashioba her ruler, but these aren't values for which she would sacrificed. White dame wants to be free; be able to go where she wants, to do what she wants without unnecessary sucking on all the wolves she knows. However, introvert knows that she is too weak to survive alone in the wild.

<<“That’s kind private question, isn’t it?” Light gray female was clearly displeased because of this. Her silver tail dropped a little as same as a black ears.>>

• Quietly prefers to be called as Remira.
• Has mostly blood and forest scent.
• Her voice is quiet, calm and deep (as for a female). Erm, unfortunately, I don't know anybody famous who can help you with imagination it :[

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Lord of Chaos


Circe Dreios :: Queen of the Vahlos :: 4 Years :: Female :: Bisexual

“He threatened her with battle so she raised him a war.”


Molten pools of gold broil within the irises of the Queen, emitting a strikingly luminescent glow. She is towering in stature, with long legs and a deep chest-- her entire body comprised of compact yet prominent muscle. Her build is ideal for battle, and while she is relatively skilled in hunting, her fur and imposing size makes it difficult for her to conceal her presence. Circe’s fur is unmistakably stark white, growing longer around her neck, chest, and belly. Her hide is heavily marred by scarring, although the wounds of her past are seldom visible through her thick fur.


The badlands were an unforgiving landscape, yet the vast expanse was home to a plethora of wolves, most nomadic and some unfriendly. Euanthe gave birth to a litter of four on a desolate plateau with but a sliver of the moon to illuminate the faces of her kin. Unfortunately, the scarce supply of food meant that three were born unhealthy, two of which quickly perished within the night. The two that survived were bestowed with the names Circe and Andromeda, and their love for one another was endless. They were adored by their parents, and despite the rough conditions of their homeland, their family was content. More or less. They were introduced from a young age to the gladiatorial traditions of their war-like clan, the Tempestas, and instilled with a fierce will to survive-- taught extensively in the art of battle. Circe excelled, but Andromeda fell short. So, Andromeda took to hunting, taking pride in dangling her catches before Circe’s watering jaws. It was often that they would go long periods of time without food to fill their aching bellies, but their parents did their best to assuage their worries and hunger.

Often they’d explore the treacherous crags together, chasing after unfortunate reptiles and rodents for entertainment, though never doing them any harm. In the stars they found solace, watching them from beneath hardy trees and sharing the day’s events in hushed tones. It wasn’t long before they were ushered into the den by an exhausted Euanthe, whining and complaining the whole way. A year went by, and the family’s bond only grew stronger. Andromeda and Circe watched in dismay as their father’s health declined, at first it was moderate, but it was not long before it began to spiral downhill. Alcaeus’ passing was not a shock, but it devastated the Tempestas with the force of a great desert storm, and Euanthe had no choice but to assume the leadership role her mate had filled amidst the grim backdrop of drought and famine.

Yet, Euanthe remained unflinching and deemed their old territory inhospitable. In desperate search of a new home, the Tempestas traveled, thus thorough patrols and watchful sentries became significantly more vital than before. To Andromeda’s chagrin, at the age of two, Circe was finally old enough to join the border patrols. In the spirits of burying her sorrow, the she-wolf followed in the paw steps of older gladiators as they trekked across the badland, through the forests and into the mountains where the few remaining survivors of the Tempestas took up shelter. Evening had fallen when a patrol of paladin warriors surrounded them, waking the group of wolves from their peaceful slumber. Having encroached upon territory which belonged to the Vahlos, the stragglers were brought before Memphet Arezio for judgement.

Circe stepped forth and challenged the Queen for her throne, and Memphet announced that they would duel when the sun rose above the mountain peaks. While Memphet fought valiantly, she was no match for the stranger’s prowess in battle, and fell before her might. She was cast out from the Vahlos, and Circe was welcomed as their new Queen. Her reign was prosperous and absolute, and the Vahlos were taken with their ruler. She cared deeply for them, determined to keep them safe from the cruelties of the world and prevent the catastrophe of her puphood. It was during this time that the fateful meeting between Zaros (the heir to the Takala) and Circe took place, leading to a passionate whirlwind of courtship. When she was not tending to her kingdom and subjects, Circe was prancing about with a handsome suitor, and together they shared many fond moments and memories. When Zaros proposed that they elope, the Queen was delighted, and begged him adamantly to join her in the mountains.

However, before they were able, Zaros’ father and Chieftain of the Takala passed. Tempted by power, Zaros reneged on his agreement with his beloved. She watched as he turned from her and left, taking her heart with him as the darkness swallowed him whole. For a time she stood there, rooted to the spot in shock. In the depths of her eyes boiled tears and woe, and she stalked silently all the way back home, her head hung low. Over the next few weeks, she kept to herself and became enveloped in her misery. When Circe finally emerged, she was informed with news which incited an untamable rage. Zaros had eloped with another woman. The trees and her most trusted paladins were the only witnesses to her wrath, and as they tore through five unfortunate members of the Chieftain’s patrol, the vengeful Queen slaughtered both Zaros and his betrothed. As she stood among the ravaged corpses, she felt overtaken by grief yet unbearably numb, and while she regretted her decision, the fire which burned in her eyes that day never died out. The Vahlos watched as the once good-natured Queen retreated within herself, never to fully recover. Her only saving grace was an abandoned young pup whom she adopted as her own child, naming her Kari.


Circe was a just and benevolent ruler for a time. The white queen is imperious and a dangerous adversary-- a well trained combatant. Yet, with the betrayal of her beloved she grew bitter and withdrawn, and thus became a fortress of resolute constitution. She shed her former self and ideals, which was part of that which had earned her the hearts, minds, and support of her subjects. She became unreasonable in her unshakable wrath and her devastation would be well known by all. Crowned by an acute sense of dominance and confidence, Circe is highly alert and capable of captivating those who stand before her. Over the years she became reserved, cynical, and stoic-- forcing any and all who interact with her to do so with difficulty, as she is unreadable and unpredictable. An audience with her may be enough to sway her decisions, even so, Circe can change her mind should she see fit or if proven wrong. Her trust is increasingly challenging to earn as she is both guarded and skeptical.

The Queen is intimidating and willful, seeking and securing victory through tact, honor, resourcefulness, adaptation, and by instilling inspiration and hope in those around her. She is boundlessly complex, and wields power with formidable purpose. The White Queen is focused, devoted, patient, dignified, and imperious. She is benign, silver-tongued, and level-headed. Circe always held her realm’s well-being in top priority, but had never allowed it to cloud her judgement. She is diplomatic yet marked with an icy disposition which is coupled with an insatiable taste for revenge. The Queen is immensely intelligent and voraciously ambitious, with a quick-wit to match her serrated tongue. The former gladiator and executioner is passionate and fiercely protective of her subjects, her love for them unwavering. The she-wolf is capable of compassion, and despite her aloof façade, she feels emotions intensely. She is vigilant and collected, acting with grace and emanating magnetic charm. There is much of Circe yet to be revealed, that remain in the furthest confines of her soul.


Alcaeus [Father, Deceased]
Euanthe [Mother, Deceased]
Andromeda [Sister, Alive]
Kari [Adopted Daughter]
[Message me if you’d like to play her]
[Side Note: She is not going to be considered an Heir]​


  • Voice Claim: Cate Blanchett as Hela
  • Her scent is of moss and Lake Maesta.
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Controlled Chaos

thrones of darkness- sinari.jpg
Sinari Omaru :: Knight/Dame of Takala :: 4 years:: Female :: Bisexual
(I think Dame is female? but
I'm not sure so i put both titles here)

Appearance: Her cold, observant yellow eyes have been known to break the spirits of the most stubborn and dominant enemies. Her large frame and compact muscle are covered in a thick black pelt, the fur thickest around her neck, stomach, and nape of her neck. The scars from her past battles and hardships often covered by the thick fur. When it comes to size, she's on the larger side of the scales, often being physically bigger than the males of the pack. Her broad muzzle and strong jaws hold large, sharp white fangs. Her paws are large and broad.

History: Sinari was born a loner, and her family, most of which didnt care much in the first place, died off quickly due to the raging fires in their territory, which was not to far from the Nashoba territory that, as she found out by listening to a Nashoba survivor, had also been destroyed by fire, just years later. The few who survived eventually died of sickness or were hunted. Only one relative remained, her brother and the only wolf who actually cared for her, however she woke up one rainy morning to find him gone. She remained a Loner for two years afterward, fighting other wolves for her meals or even a place to sleep. After the second year, she found the pack known as Takala and reluctantly joined. She became known as an excellent hunter, her specialty being large game due to her size and skillset. Most wolves avoided contact with her if possible, this probably being
because she is known to be untrusting, cold, and observant. She had been a Sentinel in the pack of Takala before Lazarus came and took control. When the large, scarred wolf arrived, she watched from a shadow filled area with observant yellow eyes. She had seen power, both in the body and eyes of this wolf. Which made her suspicious, though she came to admire the wolf, she never admitted it, partly because she also disliked him a bit. However, she was and continues to be loyal, fighting in the many battles her pack goes through in the alphas hunger for power. She has been known to be an excellent warrior to the members of the pack, often slaying her enemies without remorse, Some admired her for it, most feared her for it.

Personality: Sinari is usually reserved and dropping into a fit of rage is not something she is known for. She is cold and independent despite being part of a pack. That said, she is also loyal and protective of her pack. She loves no one and keeps a wall built up, which no wolf has ever broken through. She's an excellent hunter, and an even better fighter. Her build is almost perfect for battle. She usually keeps to herself and is very observant. She watches almost
everything from the shadows and can almost always read the wolves around her. If somethings happening, nine times out of ten, she knows about it. She is reserved and powerful. The wolves around her often fear her and aviod contact if possible. Despite all this, she has a soft spot for pups. Its not that she loves them or anything, she is just protective of them._. Right? Sinari doesn't like interaction much and spends most of her time hunting or patrolling. When not doing that, she keeps to herself. She can sometimes be found watching the horizon,as though her brother may come running over with a sad little squirrel dangling from his jaws and joking about his lack of skill. Though when questioned about this behavior, the longing look in her eyes disappear and she either silently moves on or brushes it off with a change of subject.

Overall, she is intimating and independent. Loyal and protective. Kind or playful words from her are not something anyone can come by easily. She protects her pack and fights for their leader. She is straight-forward and will speak her mind if she feels the need, no matter who it may offend. If there is any rank in the pack she actually strives for is to be an Elite, but she's comfortable where she is, its a confusing and rarely brought up topic for her.

Raiken {father,
Malike {mother
Jade {Sister
Kali {Brother,

Voice: Reserved but strong.
Her scent is of wild grass, moss, and pine.
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grr woof woof
hope this is okay for me to pop in!


Virmia Delnari :: Huntress of Nashoba :: 3 years :: Female :: Heterosexual

Appearance: Virmia is a doe-eyed, long legged femme. Her fur is compiled of an assortment of grays and browns, carefully constructed to accentuate each muscle. She is perfection, in her eyes, taking pride in the fact that she's been blessed with eyes that match the soft creams and faint goldens in her pelt. She was not built to be a fighter, does not take on her father's hulking frame, but she takes pride in it. She is skilled in battle despite her seemingly dainty appearance.

Clearly it does her well, considering she is a formidable huntress. Not built for battle, but her lithe, muscular frame was scripted for the hunt. Dainty paws to creep along the forest floor, and shockingly soft pelt to blend against the trees.

However, with all the beauty she believes to behold, she feels it is dampened by the scars the fire has left her with. Where there was once dark gray fur and warm brown fur, there is now dark scars and skin blackened by flame.

She is not made of pure Nashoba blood, but she cares little for it. She has proved her loyalty as far as she is concerned. Her father, a wolf from the Vahlos, was outcast for venturing outside of the mountains. She never pressed much for the details, simply because she didn't care for them - they offered her no benefit. As he lived as a lone wolf, he would often come across others as well as one female who would come to be her mother. She was an accident, so to speak. Her mother was not the most loving to her litter, nor the most caring.

They'd been born in the winter, and despite her father's efforts, not all of them survived. Vash had originally sired three pups and only ended up with one. His queen wanted nothing to do with them, often leaving them for extended periods of time to hunt or refusing them milk. There eventually came a time where she had left and never returned, leaving Vash bewildered. He had never had any pups, let alone cared for them, but he wouldn't let his remaining charge die.

It was here where he happened upon the Nashoba, Virmia dangling from his jaws. Both were weak and starving, but Vash was willing to secure his place within the pack so long as his daughter survived. He was able to give reason why they should stay, his muscular body and fighting ability not unnoticed. Able to join their ranks as a Knight, and leaving his pup in the paws of a nursing wolf who had been absorbed from a previous pack.

Virmia, from there, only grew. She had proven she had a strong spirit by surviving through winter and neglect when her siblings did not, dangling onto life by a thread. She did not have an inclination to fight, though willingly learned in order to protect her pack, but had a natural desire to hunt. It was her niche, and while Vash preferred his daughter had followed his pawsteps, he was proud of her all the same.

She has trained long and hard to learn the ways of the Nashoba, happily following them on their conquest. She wants nothing more than to see her pack flourish, and spends her days hunting until her bones beg for mercy, just to fill their bellies. She is a defined huntress, melded by the rigorous training of the Nashoba.

However, while she is proud, she struggles with her appearance. Where she once felt she was impeccable is no more. The fires that raged through their previous home was not merciful to Virmia.

She'd been hunting when the fire came, and as soon as she smelled it she had run straight back to her camp to alert them. Much to her relief, they were already on her way. Virmia had done what she could to assist her packmates, focusing mainly on the elderly and the young. It was when she was pushing a young wolf out of the way that she was injured, briefly trapped by a burning branch that landed on her lower half.

Thankfully, it had not been too heavy. Some months of healing had fixed her, but her back fur and tail did not receive the same mercy. From her haunches to the middle of her tail, there are dark scars where the fur seems to never be able to return. As soon as she recovered, she was quick to return to work. The pack needed her.

Personality: Virmia is a wolf with a strong will. She will do what she can to survive and ensure others do as well. Despite being a huntress, she would quickly lay down her life for a packmate in need, or even for Lazarus despite his cold demeanor. She feels they deserve it; she is happy to be here, breathing and alive. If not for the Nashoba, she would be dead, and her father likely would as well. She can only offer them her gratitude.

Kind-hearted as she is, she follows the rules of the Nashoba religiously. The emperor's law goes, and she is quick to follow any order delivered to her. As long as Lazarus does not follow in the exact pawsteps of Talos, she seems to offer no complaints. She is happy to obey, and certain that her superiors are happy that she does so.

She is also extremely determined. Virmia has not reached the point that she has without it. She is often carrying her packmates on a successful hunt, bringing down those big kills and encouraging those around her to do better. She believes there is always room to improve, and if she's the best she thinks she can do better.

There's something strangely cold about her. When there is a rulebreaker found, she is eager to see justice delivered.

- Vash, her father, and one of her only friends. He is the reason she is in the Nashoba. He survived the fire, barely, and spends most of his time by himself. He struggles to breathe a lot, and cannot move as well as he used to.

- She has a slight limp that she tries to hide

- Her back left paw has an extra toe.

- She smells like maple and mountain flowers.

- Voice: Lisa Margaret Hannigan as Blue Diamond
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what's a word means glowing? it's gotta rhyme.
Meridia Rokan.jpeg

Meridia Rokan :: Huntress of Nashoba :: 8 yrs :: Female :: Heterosexual

"All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red."
- Rokowski


Her bones ache with memory and she hangs her tired head low, shoulders slouching and heavy with regret. Meridia is a shadow of her former self, a ghost with cold breath and a hollow stare. There's the faintest glimmer of pride buried someplace deep in her chest, seen only in how she speaks of the far past and how she loses herself in the hunt. She seldom carries herself as a royal should, her chin raised towards Caelus' domain, reflecting his sovereign territory in her deep lapis gaze. She might have pretended before, for Lazarus' sake, but now that Talos is gone, she's no interest in preserving her status.

She bids her time in the wood, her tall and dark silhouette shrouded by Venassi's good grace, stealth and The Hunt. Her scars are hidden, the smell of him masked by rotting underbrush and hunting trails. She's become wild again, that feral gleam in her eyes long awaited.

History [ tw: abuse, child death ]

She was young. Her pack was small, a family unit which had not yet settled into one place. They did not stake claim over the land or call each other by titles, they had but one name, a chosen name and that was all. They asked for other packs' blessings and followed great herds of elk throughout the free territories of Endala.

It was not war or an exchange of power that took her father's life, it was age. Heartsick, her mother followed not long after, leaving Meridia and her siblings alone. They had the world ahead of them and an innate curiosity. They bade each other farewell and set out to find their own small corner, a mate and new way of life. Barely a year old, Meridia went with some of her sisters into the forests of the Nashoba.

Taken in, she and her sisters were trained as hunters and, given their experiences, they quickly succeeded in much of what the Nashoba had to teach them. Meridia remembers being happy then, blissfully unawares and preoccupied. She had her sisters as company, she could lose herself in the frenzy of a good hunt and play in the trees. She did not feel any sense of belonging to the Nashoba clan, but was content enough to spend her days providing for them.

Talos, as mighty a Rokan as any. Though the clan dotted over their heir, Meridia regarded him cooly. She was dismissive and scathing, never allowing her interest in the young knight to outwardly show. Perhaps thats what drove him to her. She posed a challenge, she was something to be won over, conquered. She thought it was love then, and she thinks he was kind.

They had their first litter together when Meridia was two and a half. Talos had rightfully staked his claim as archduke and Meridia found herself surrounded by the other members of Nashoba. Where once she could linger on the outskirts and slip away freely, she could now barely escape their scrutiny. She and her pups barely had time to themselves, so it was no great mystery for the clan to learn they were all born weak. Try as she might to keep them fed, to help them recover from a troublesome birth, they never grew stronger.

Five were born and within a week's time, five died.

Meridia was beside herself, sick with grief. Talos was the only one who could console her, assure her that things would be better and that she could try again. She distracted herself with the hunt, but when that wasn't enough, she started training as a dame. Talos aided her in this. His ruthlessness and cold discipline becoming more and more apparent in his teachings. It was never enough to draw blood and maim her, but she'd often come away from their scrapes worn thin, limping seriously and sleeping through every available minute she had.

Her sisters' concern grew and when Talos recognized this, he set Meridia and the rest of the clan against them through careful coercion. It wasn't long before they found themselves outcasts, despised by the clan they'd provided for and the sister they'd known for years. Though she didn't see it then, Meridia was on her own when they left.

They had their second litter when Meridia was four; Talos was Nashoba's newly made Emperor. Of that litter, one survived and she hated him for it, for surviving when the others had not, a reminder of her failure as a mate and mother. She woke every day hoping he lay still beside her, and when he only grew stronger, she felt herself rage inside. It wasn't till he opened his eyes, stood on all four paws and barked happily at her... The way his hair stood on end and that soft look he peered up at her with. She was reminded of home, that same softness in her father's watchful gaze. For a time, she wasn't alone any more.

Meridia loved Lazarus with every fiber of her being. She knew it then and knows it now. It was hard to find at first, perhaps always there and just clouded by grief, but she's never doubted it since. His upbringing was hard, his puphood as far removed from hers as possible. When Meridia saw Talos' intentions with him, she tried speaking up to her mate, but was always silenced, driven to the ground with unmerciful force, his voice a snarl and teeth shinning. He took her words, her anger, and turned it on Lazarus, her every effort taken out on him.

The eyes of Nashoba's most loyal were on her. She could not intervene without Talos' most trusted elites baring down on her. When she spoke up, they were there to punish her. When she threatened leaving, they made it clear Lazarus would stay. Talos kept him close and she could only watch as the brute poisoned him, took that softness in his eyes and twisted it into fear and then malice.

She thought of her sisters then. Her home and the herds of elk they'd chase for days on end, energy surging through them like a river. She'd never been so tired. Lazarus would come to her at first and she'd try her best to comfort him when Talos' cruelty became too much. But Lazarus couldn't leave and she couldn't make Talos stop. Lazarus stopped seeing her. Learned to hide things and manage them on his own.

She'd heard whispers of the great god Beltoro since she was a child. Her parents had told her his blessing was a curse which turned the most precious souls black. They said that this world was enough for every wolf and his wars were only waged in hate and greed. When she'd come to Nashoba, she'd found their worship of him strange and unholy.

She'd never prayed to another god more than him when Lazarus challenged Talos. And she'd reveled in all his might, all his glory when Talos was killed.


She's become quiet, removed from life in the pack. She very much yearns to follow the herds again, and might given the chance, but she's a deep devotion to her son. Meridia would say she did her best, but knows in her heart that it still wasn't enough. Above all things, she regrets it, not taking him and running at the first sign of trouble. She imagines a life if she had, her son rambling free with her, chasing large elk and sleeping every night under the stars, someplace far and new. At the corner of every dream lurks a nightmare, the Nashoba's wicked grin.

She's resentful and though their abusers have been weeded out over the years, it doesn't keep her from hating the pack. She's anxious in large groups, always on edge, and would prefer the company of her hunters over all else. Untrusting and angry, always so incredibly angry with everyone but no one more than herself.


Dragomir [ father, deceased ]
Calliope [ mother, deceased ]

Lazarus Rokan [ son, alive ]
Talos Rokan [ mate, deceased ]

She has several living siblings, but they went their separate ways after their pack disbanded. Their relationship is estranged, Meridia having lost contact with them years before, some since she was barely out of her puphood. If you'd like to write as any of them, shoot me a pm!


  • She's a wisp of a voice, quite low and raspy. Any louder than a bark and it tends to waver, her howl breaking often and growl found deep and gargling. It was worsened by the fire and somewhat pains her now to even speak. Outside of the topic of hunting, she rarely bothers.
  • She smells of the earth she sleeps upon, the leaves she runs through, and the blood she sheds to provide for Nashoba.
  • Her coat is often too thick. When she sheds it doesn't come easy and in her older years, it becomes harder to look after. Clumps of hair and forest debris tend to stick to her, giving her a mad and wild look.


what's a word means glowing? it's gotta rhyme.

Vestigo Mori :: Shaman of Nashoba :: 4 yrs :: Male :: Homosexual


As an immensely prideful wolf, Vestigo has never known shame. He might exhibit a quiet sense of humility, but he carries himself as someone untouched and unburdened by years of strife. He's graceful, light on his feet and steadfast in the face of danger. His siblings looks at him as though he was god-sent, a child of the life goddess herself, incorruptible, invincible. It might trouble some to know that isn't the case though, that he has indeed known death in its many forms, that he is comfortable companions with Mordhau and prays to him nearly every night.

It is not life a shaman prays to but death, that he might ease the passing of a suffering patient and carry their soul to a better place, or pass them over entirely and visit them later in their years. Mordhau is not an unwelcomed sight, unholy. He is inevitable and your protector as he shepherds you to the underworld. Vestigo has great respect for him and no fear.

As are most medicine wolves, he's composure under pressure, a temper that may flare given the right circumstances and enough stress, but a calm disposition towards those he tends to. He's quiet-spoken but confident, and stares at others with an understanding which should be impossible, as though he's insight to your very thoughts.


They found each other later in life. Adamo and Morrigan had had other mates, children before Vestigo and Leukos, but that all seemed a distant memory. So wrapped up in the love they had for one another, boundless and new. Morrigan was seven when she had her only litter with Adamo; they had six children and raised them together in the Nashoba clan.

Vestigo was reserved as a pup, following at his father's heels and listening to him converse with pack members. His eyes were wide and watching and he absorbed all he could from their conversations. He grew fast not because he was urged to do so by others, but because he pushed himself to. He leapt at opportunities to learn and would much rather prefer the company of the Nashoba elders over that of his siblings. He'd sit all night and listen to their stories, bring them back and try to retell them with all the vigor and wisdom the elders would have.

When it came their time to hunt and train for battle, Vestigo felt anticipation surge in his chest. As excited and attentive as he was though, it seemed he never got better or advanced as fast as some of his other siblings, especially his brother Leukos. He woke tired and his enthusiasm soon died down to a small stir. He lost love for the rush of a good brawl and whimpered at the dying cries of prey. On one occasion, he froze in front of a charging deer and found himself trampled under its feet. Still young, he was rushed to the shaman's shelter for care. It was here that he found his love for medicine, surrounded by the wafting smells of drying herbs and fresh honey.

He thrived in medicine and felt a deep connection for the then shaman, Manon Kree.

His brothers and sisters grew fast. Some chose to stay with the clan for a while, but little by little they all left in search of their own way. He was alone, resigned but content in his work. As he watched the change in power from Talos to Lazarus, Vestigo remained impartial, showing only his distaste for the raw display of brutality and violence and those hurt in its wake. He helped any and all who came to his and Manon's den, regardless of allegiance.

When the fire came, he saw it as punishment for the clan's wickedness, their worship of war and battle. He'd never admit it aloud, but his disappointment was quite evident. The disaster took many and left others in ruins. Adamo and Morrigan were swallowed by the flame, Manon was lost. Though they slowly rebuild in Takala's grove, he is encumbered with the heavy weight of guilt for those he couldn't save.


A pale, near colorless gaze which seems to reflect whichever hue dominates that land around him, a faint forest green or an inkling of brown as he digs for roots. Vestigo has his mother's eyes and his father's grace, a boundless energy which carries him far and wide. His coat is thick, a blanket of white interrupted by smatterings of black and gray. Brown tinges his ears, back, and chest.

Though he is plenty capable of fighting, he was never trained very hard for it. He took up medicine as a youngling and committed his life to that of pacifism. His figure ripples with muscle, but it is largely only put to use in navigating tough terrain.


Adamo Mori [ father, deceased ]
Morrigan Lofin [ mother, deceased ]

Manon Kree [ mentor, unknown ] [ If you'd like to play them, let me know! I'd love to see them reunited and able to develop a relationship again. ]

Leukos Mori [ brother, alive ]


  • His voice quietly rumbles like distant thunder; it's smooth and soothing to listen to.
  • He smells of the herbs he works with. Juniper, marigold, and comfrey. The Takala's forest has provided him an abundance of herbs, all he's made good use of in treating Nashoba's wounds from the forest fire.
  • Under high stress, he's developed nervous ticks. His lips twitch or his ears and tail jerk frequently.
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Name: Drake Terund :: Rank: Takala’s Councilor:: Age: 3 years (Soon 4):: Gender: Male
:: Sexuality: Pansexual ::

Not too big, not too small, not too muscular, not too flaccid, just something between this all. Male always looks satisfied, thanks to the never-going true smile on his face and happy alive eyes. He has a very dignified, and energetic step. Speaking of his coat, practically all of it is very fluffy. It’s quite long only on the cheeks and neck. Drake is light, with the characteristic gray-brown markings of wolves, extending over his tail, all over back and ending on the head, near male’s dark like pitch nose. Those who first heard Drake’s voice, rather suit it to the younger wolf. It isn’t very low and mature, but for sure male's one. About his scent; it smells like the Takala’s great forest and refreshing rain.

In short; Drake is happy to be. He appreciates what he has, doesn't despair for too long, just tries to live his only life as best he can. Terund is definitely an optimist. It may sound selfish, but wolf doesn't like that everyone is so sad and worried about the problems that can be often fixed with the right amount of their own determination. This rule has always worked, and taught him to never give up.
He will never refuse to help, Drake is very friendly to the others and trusting. This is mainly why it is easy to trick and manipulate him. Despite the fact that it has happened to Terund several times, he didn’t change this approach to others.

Drake was born when both of his parents were about to become elders. He was their only one pup, and with his birth Takala’s wolves began to said that he was a gift from Amara herself, who heard the couple after many years of prayer. It is difficult to say why the goddess gave them such a infertility, but some of the nosy Takala’s members have answered this question themselves. According to their rumors, the parents weren't so innocent. What exactly would they do to deserve such a fate? Each of the nosy elders came up with their own strange theories.

From the very beginning, wolf hadn’t problem with making friends, because Drake showed a lot of empathy to others. As he grew older, quite good leadership and strategic qualities were noticed in him. The young wolf began to think more and more about becoming a advisor, and slowly strive for this role more and more. After all, he finally claimed it, after last councilor named Jax ...


• Have the cool song:
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The Abysster

Name Jax :: Rank Hunter of Takala :: Age 4 Years old :: Gender Male :: Sexuality Bisexual

  • Jax has a simple appearance, his faded earthy browns and cream colors always makes him appear to be dusty. He has calm and attentive yellow eyes, full of care. The fur around his face, neck and chest is thicker and longer than the rest of his body, creating a lion-like appearance to add to his large muscular frame. By no means was he lean, every muscle built for the hunt. The right eye is missing, a long scar stretching down the side of his face.
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Akela Suake //Huntress of Vahlos // Female // 2 Years // Heterosexual
History: Akela wasn't born in the pack actually, or any pack for that matter. Her mother was a lone wolf who got knocked up by another lone wolf. The mother gave birth in a abandoned fox den and without looking back at her four newborn pups, she left. The pups left hungry and cold slowly deteriorated one by one. Hours went by and only one pup remained surrounded by her now dead siblings. There was no hope for the female pup until a wolf came and saved her. A former Paladin of the Vahlos, Amarok, became her mother and nursed her back to health. Amarok is no longer with the pack (of course lol) but her spirit lives on in Akela, the grey female being just like her foster mother.

Personality: Akela will always look mad, that is just her face. In reality, she is actually a sweetheart and timid. She's not hasty to make decisions or jump into things, and is fairly smart. Taught by her foster mother, Akela is skilled in fighting but chose to become a huntress instead, wanted a change in "scenery" as she says. She is okay at hunting but in all honesty it would've been better if she became a Paladin like Amarok, but you can't tell her otherwise though. Akela is very headstrong, hard to detour her off her set mind. Although she listens to commands very well it is actually very hard to keep her on track of a task if her mind is on something completely different. She is calm and collected most of the time and not many others have seen her stressed or agitated, but the ones who have seen her get that way sure do have stories to tell. She likes to think she is a hard ass and will act as so around those who don't really know her, but like I said, she is a sweetheart and is very timid. She knows authority when she sees it, but will constantly look for loopholes around things, her birth mother was the same way. She can be sneaky and unpredictable at times.

Appearance: Covered head to toe in a ashy grey color, from a distance she looks like a solid color. Closer inspection her ear tips are tinted a darker color, darker saddle like back, darkened feet and nose. Her eyes are like a luscious green forest that has never once seen a drought with tints of brown around her iris. She actually has long legs but her body build doesn't make her look tall until you size her up against others.(I'd say she's about.. 3.2ft tall?) her tail is longer than her legs, stickers always in the ends of her fur due to it dragging on the ground sometimes. Her fur is thick all around, like she was meant for colder weather. She has the constant smell of clovers. Her voice is like Emily Blunt's (New Mary Poppin's actress)

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Screenshot 2021-08-11 223518.png
Calef Nida // General of Nashoba // female // 4 years old // heterosexual

History : There is a reason Calef is sometimes called, The Daughter of Beltoro, and there is a reason why she is is not messed with much. Calef was born in the pack, both of her parents being well respected, she was born with bloodlust in her veins. Her father, picking up on his daughters talents at a very young age started training her hard, making her siblings her target practice and using them for her training. He didn’t care much for them, just his star pupil. Calef became spoiled to the attention her father was giving her, getting praise from him and others in the pack that her father would bring to watch her train or boast to them about her. When she reached the age of six months old, her father decided it was time to test her skills.
One day her father took her and her two siblings out into the woods in one of the far corners of the territory. He knew no one comes here nor would follow him out here. Training started out normal with the group, her siblings crying in pain as their father let Calef attack them relentlessly. They were too tired and weak to fight back so they just cowered down on the ground until the father had enough. “
Okay Calef, for your final test, kill your siblings.” Her Father said to her, staring at her with his cold grey eyes. She looked at him in shock. “Kill them? But they are my sisters! My blood!” She would cry back but her father didn’t say a word. His mind was made up. As her father watched her, she massacred her sisters. Her white pelt splatted with blood and the bodies torn to shreds her father praised her for her work. He had her wash off in the river before he took her back, the female not realizing what they have done.
A few days passed before the bodies were found, torn to shreds and wounds still intact. The two went on trail and the news of what her father made her do came out in the open as a shock. Her father was deemed guilty and was thrown into Ocira’s gorge to his death. She was surprisingly not guilty, as they only saw her obeying her fathers orders. She was forced to watch her father fall to his death. As she got older she quickly moved up ranks and became a favorite of the emperor, surpassing her mother at the age of 2 and became general. She was forced to kill her own mother as she was found helping Imprisoned Vahlos escape. Calef became a stone cold killer, soon becoming emotionless and semi-mute, only set on the kill and orders. Deep down she still has feelings inside, but due to her life she has bottled them all up until the time calls for them.

Personality: now to do her personality is kinda hard, as she is very short when she speaks to certain people. Out of all her years no one has taken the time to get to know her, only given her orders and have been praised for doing a good job at what she does. If you do get to know her, you will find out she is actually very curious and a pup at heart. Not being able to go and explore things as a pup, a lot of things can be new to her. She knows how to speak very well, it’s just the fact of speaking. The only one she truly talked to was her father, as he was the one who took the time to train her into the cold blooded killing machine she is today. Now she’s not very good at setting the right tone of voice with what she is saying, like she’ll say something with a harsh tone but isn’t really that harsh of words, ya know? She’s not good at expressing any other emotion besides anger and bloodlust. The only other wolf that has seen any other emotion out of her is the emperor, as he is the emperor and being the general she has to talk to him. Once you do get to know her she is actually a very tender, protective, and giving, even if she doesn’t truly know how to express them or show others that she cares for them. A good example would be, you say someone is bullying you, she’d instantly go kill them and bring you the head.(: she is very optimistic but in silence. She can be very sarcastic, mainly a type of rude sarcasm. Even though she has a bloodlust, she tries to find other, more less brutal ways around situations… but she is quite brutal herself.

Appearance: As you would think, she is a white wolf. She has some light brown shading along the top and tip of her tail, along her spine and back of her neck, her ear tips, and on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are a dark forest green color with blue waves around her iris. She has the voice of Mary Elizabeth Winstead. Her fur is thin and airy but looks thick. she stands at at 2’8” feet tall and is a really bulky thing, but you can’t see her muscles due to her fur. Her ears are slightly bigger than her head and her tail is as long as her back legs, always in alert position. She has the constant smell of dirt and moss but the good smelling kind.

Other: Her fathers name was Kronos(yes, the baby eater)and her mother’s name was Marta. Both were high up Elites of the pack before they were both killed. I don’t think I left anything else out?
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The Abysster

Name Salem De'raq :: Rank Inquisitor of Vahlos :: Age 4 Years old :: Gender Female :: Sexuality Homosexual

  • Salem's pelt is as brown as the Earth that they stand on. Her back has a speckled blanket of darker brown fur, white edging around her eyes and muzzle. Despite the dirt brown appearance of her fur, she could be quite a striking young she-wolf if she didn't look so angry all the time. Solid amber orbs strike out from her frosted face, fiery in spirit and refuse to budge. Salem is fluffy in appearance, making her appear soft and gentle. Yet underneath the thick protective pelt is a massive of muscle, tensed and always ready for a fight. Her stature is timid despite her liquid like movements. She has no issue with maneuvering and contorting her body as needed, being highly flexible. Salem's head is held high with pride and honor, making no room for anyone to question her position.


Lord of Chaos

Imani Abadi :: Former Priestess of the Takala & Shaman of Nashoba :: 4 Years :: Female :: Heterosexual

"Time reveals all."


Imani is bewitchingly beautiful-- an ocean of rippling muscles and mottled, silky fur. Her coat consists of various shades of cream, white, gray, and overtaken by ebony as dark as the night itself. She is of average height, her build streamline with sturdy limbs, accentuated hip bones and shoulders, a slender ribcage, and an unusually long tail. Her snout is long and narrow, steel trap jaws lined by pearl white, long fangs. Ethereal, pale eyes are accentuated by ebony, upturned and set deeply into her skull. Her fur is longest on her tail, hips, belly, chest, and neck.


The Abadi family was deep rooted for generations in the ranks of the Takala, known for their good nature and generosity. Malak and Safiyah were the proud parents to three litters-- each approximately one year apart. The family of eleven was tightly knit and devoted to the wellbeing of the Takala and their beliefs. She was gifted since she was little, but incredibly shy. Imani was so shy, in fact, that Malak and Safiyah began to worry for her future, as she hardly spoke and refused to leave the den with her littermates. She’d follow her mother’s pawsteps to the threshold of their den before retreating within, slinking into the darkness with her tail between her legs. Eventually, her mother gently coaxed her outside, albeit two months late, and it was not two more months before she was more sociable and lively than a majority of her siblings.

It came as a surprise to all, including Malak, who was used to being the talker of the family. Imani was fascinated by the natural world, and wherever Safiyah and Sabah went, the prodigal daughter was not far behind, desperate to learn from them. As her mother and grandmother before her, Imani would eventually take up the mantle of Priestess. She was well respected for her dedication and vast wealth of knowledge, tending to her tribe with the utmost care. When Zaros and an entire patrol were slaughtered (two of her brothers among them), she began to fear for the future of the tribe and was swallowed by grief. Then came the fateful day when he arrived. A towering figure bathed in shadow cut across the smoke ridden horizon; Imani was wary, but she did not oppose his ascension.


Fiercely devoted and bound by duty, Imani is a tactful and insightful she-wolf. She is honorable-- her every breath intoxicated with a boundless lust for knowledge. She’s an intelligent dame and a conversationalist, her magnetizing charm allowing her to expertly navigate social circles. She prefers to follow the lead of an authority figure while still maintaining her independence, and reads intentions with eerie precision. She is not easily deceived. Imani is sarcastic, witty, dependable, daring, patient, industrious, task-oriented, dignified, passionate, kind, attentive, spirited, articulate, respectful, adaptable, idealistic, and confident. Her intense focus can be unsettling to some, and calming to others. She is observant, her emotional intelligence allowing her to better understand subtleties and gauge appropriate reactions, although often she experiences emotion so deeply that she can hardly cope. Her talent for weaving in and out of difficult situations has served her well throughout her life. She harbors an immense amount of compassion for others, and will care for anyone placed under her watch. Often regarded as a mystic and cryptic, she spends a great deal of her time exploring the natural world, expanding her mind, and procuring new knowledge. She offers guidance to those who seek it, and healing/rehabilitation to those who are injured. However, she can become irritable and moody when overworked. Imani is friendly and capable of engaging conversation and playful banter. She thoroughly dislikes laziness, bigotry, uncleanliness, ignorance, dishonesty, and insubordination. The orphic she-wolf craves the feeling of being wanted and needed, and thrives off of her successes. Imani is subtly flirtatious and will play off of her desirability for entertainment/amusement, furthering her goals, attention, or other more personal motives. Her temper is even and her presence is pleasantly soothing. Imani is in every essence of the word, insatiable.


Sabah [Grandmother, Deceased]
Malak [Father, Deceased]
Safiyah [Mother, Deceased]
Rashad [Brother, Deceased]
Zaphar [Brother, Alive]
Ramses [Brother, Alive]
Nadira [Sister, Alive]
Jericho [Brother, Alive]
Cairo [Brother, Alive]
Hasan [Brother, Deceased]
Azra [Sister, Alive]​

  • Her scent is marked by sage, often mixed with a variety of herbs
  • Voice Claim: Angelina Jolie as Maleficent
  • 1st Litter [Rashad, and Zaphar, and an unnamed stillborn]
  • 2nd Litter [Ramses, Nadira, and Jericho]
  • 3rd Litter [Imani, Cairo, Hasan, and Azra]
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Abominable Squirrelman

Nova Ramun :: Huntress of Vahlos :: 2 years :: feamale :: Bisexual

Nova has the appearance of an Ethiopian wolf. She's thin with long legs and light fur of a predominantly russet coloring. Her ears stick straight up to the sky and are longer than most other wolves. The left ear has a nick in it from a pay fight gone wrong. Her tail is bushy, but still thin like the rest of her. Her powerful muscles can be seen under her fur and her agile body is reminiscent of a fox. Her eyes are a piercing blue, almost icy. And her claws are long and sharp. She has a small cowlick in her fur right on the back of her neck. She can't see it, but she knows it's there as she could always feel it when her mother used to groom her. Her muzzle is ever so lightly tinted red from her many kills.
Nova was the runt of the first and only litter belonging to Conan and Mona Ramun. Out of three pups, Nova was consistently coming up last. Her siblings, Vecel and Reed, were masters of their craft. Both strong and powerful paladins, Vecel and Reed were respected by their mother and father. Nova was not expected to make it. In her early years, Nova would continue to defy expectations by living to the next day. She was sickly, small, and constantly staying in the den, unable to move much. Though it was by the grace of the gods, or maybe the priestess, that Nova was finally coming around and making progress in her health and development. She would always be a little weaker and a little slower than the others, and obviously much smaller, but her agility could marvel even the most seasoned hunters, abled to traverse the rocky mountains and hills and even the smallest outcrops with ease. Her apprenticeship would help her prove to her pack that she was as good as any other hunter. Her ability to track down and kill mountain goats is unparalleled. Though when it comes to brute strength and speed, she's outmached. So she's honed her cleverness and mental acuity to make up for her lack of physical skills.

Now, after completing her trials, Nova is a brand new huntress and constantly on the prowl to feed her pack.
Nova is a bubbly and kind wolf. Despite being dogged by misfortune early in life, it hasn't detracted from her sunny personality. She's got bounds of mental energy, even if she doesn't have as much energy physically. The red wolf is a witty one and is constantly joking around and trying to lift spirits. She's particularly close with lot's of wolves and sees herself as a friend to all. Nova is the kind of wolf to try hard until she succeeds and to use untraditional methods to achieve that success. While she is bubbly and may sometimes seem ditzy, she's actually very smart and is constantly observing and calculating what she sees. She's also very intuitive and a great listener. Though at times she can be blunt and sometimes doesn't know how to take things seriously. She can be a tad too loud when not hunting and sometimes her energy is endearing, but sometimes it's annoying.
Conan Ramun: Father (alive)
Mona Ramun: Mother (alive)
Vecel Ramun: Brother (alive)
Reed Ramun: Brother (alive)
Her scent is that of honeysuckle and oranges


Wildlife Conservationist in the Making

Tanelia (Tah-NEH- Lee - ah) :: Priestess of Vahlos :: 3 years :: Fae :: Bisexual

Appearance: Tanelia is a stunning wolf to look at being a melanistic form of the Canis lupus - commonly called the Gray wolf. Her fur is a stunning inky black which seems to glint ebony when light hits it, with small spatterings of pure white fur mixed into her inky coat, her chest holds a small spot of white fur which is one of her distinguishing characteristics. Her build is lithe and lightweight with a hint of muscle under her coat. Her eyes are what most notice right away, almond-shaped and a stunning turquoise sea-green color. Hints of ice blue flecks can be seen within if one should look close enough. Her fur appears silky and smooth when in reality it is much thicker than led to believe. Her lithe form is mainly one reason she is more flexible than anything else. Her height stands at approximately 2 feet at the shoulders, much shorter than most of her species and she weighs about 98 lbs. which is also more on the lighter side. Her voice is that of Eabha McMahon from Celtic Woman.

Tanelia was always an odd pup - even by her family's standard. Out of her whole entire family, she is the only one with the melanistic gene. Tanelia was always made fun of for her unique coat color within her family. She was the odd one out in everything. However, that didn't mean this fae didn't use it to her advantage. Oftentimes since no one wanted her to play with them... Lia would go out and memorize different herbs. For a while things were fine, she just ignored her family, her family ignored her. Now... her mother grew very sick and nothing that the priest/priestesses did could help. The disease had sprung too quickly, being unknown - not even Lia could help her mother.

Time passed and the family tried to create comfort for the ill fae as best they could. Lia even shared her food with the one family member she knew didn't hate her. Tanelia was there when her mother stopped breathing - and then every family member shifted the blame on her. She was different, and bad luck. Her only escape was to learn from the priestess/priest at that time and she decided to go down that path. It helped when she was old enough to decide her path. She decided to become a priestess. Nowadays one can find Tanelia in a den or looking for herbs on her own - generally avoiding those related to her no matter what. A few scars were made from the words carelessly tossed at her, but eventually, those became so layered she just ignored them nonstop. It is hard to tell if this family rift will ever heal - hopefully, it will but one never knows what Fate has in store.

Personality Tanelia is a bit on the unique side with her personality most of the time too. She is stubborn, strong-willed, and hard working. However, the drawbacks to her hard-working side include pushing herself too hard a good chunk of her time. She is determined and will never give up on a task unless absolutely needed. Lia is a sweet-tempered soul mostly, though one must gain her broken trust first in order to truly see her more king and caring side. It's there...just hidden. She is all business when it comes to patients and can be downright blunt and bossy when needed. Mostly she is quiet and shy. Lia doesn't like attention and prefers solitude over groups. Now should you look further you will see a soul which is a gentle soul... but one that has been hurt too many times to count. Lia has major self-doubt issues and confidence issues. She lacks the self-esteem most of her family carry. The mental wounds from her family are always echoing in her mind and it isn't easy to get rid of. Most of the time, Lia will spend sleepless nights dealing with the words in her head and trying to fight past them. She takes a hint of pride in her work and she will not brag about either. Being humble and soft mostly. Tanelia will put on a mask in order to pretend everything is alright. Should you mess with those who do have her trust and know her... be prepared for a whirlwind of sass and protective fury. Lia will do anything for pups or anything to save a life... even an enemy life.

Positive traits: strong-willed, kind, caring, sweet-tempered, loyal, honest
Neutral traits: elusive, shy, determined
Negative traits: bossy, stern, icy, self-doubtful, lacks confidence, untrusting

Amalthea - mate to Raeran, mother - deceased
Raeran - mate to Amalthea - father to Tanelia, Vyris, Myriil, and Zaleria - ADOPTABLE
Vyris - eldest sister to Tanelia, Myriil, and Zaleria - ADOPTABLE
Myriil - second eldest brother to Tanelia, Vyris, and Zaleria - ADOPTABLE
Zaleria - second youngest sister to Tanelia, Vyris, and Myriil - ADOPTABLE

Secret unknown half-sibling on Amalthea's side - any gender - half-sibling to Tanelia, Vyris, Myriil, and Zaleria - can be Nashoba/Talaka or Vahlos- ADOPTABLE


Tanelia smells of Madagascar vanilla mixed with hibiscus flowers and a hint of jasmine


what's a word means glowing? it's gotta rhyme.
Leukos 2.jpeg

Leukos Mori :: Paladin of the Vahlos :: 4 yrs :: Male :: Bisexual

If Nashoba were to see him now, Leukos wonders if they'd even recognize him. He once walked dangerously, his posture nearly ready for a challenge, tail raised ever so slightly and eyes near direct as they looked to Nashoba's emperor. Morrigan had tried to correct him from an early age, burying him beneath her and flashing her teeth in a snarl. He'd responded in kind for a time and gotten away with it for being so young. She warned him of the emperor's wrath and he'd merely nodded his head, a coy smile playing at his lips. He thought himself worthy of the title and had plotted half-heartedly about stealing it out from Lazarus' nose.

He was a pup then, young and foolish and full of life. He'd grown some and struck out on his own. He sought adventure alongside a pack he'd made himself, pride in knowing he was as good as any lead wolf. It was there that he met his fate. He was caught in the turning of tides, its claws sharp and changing. He hardly remembers anything from the attack. Leukos remembers the sound, the bear near silent as he cried out into the dark, his torn flesh squelching, the underbrush turning as they both hurled through it.

He remembers waking up in Tanelia's den. It was hard for him to speak, to move without whimpering through waves of nausea and mountains of pain. He flinched at the slightest touch and refused to eat for a time. Healing had been his hardest journey yet and it is still long from over. He is no longer the wolf he was, surefooted and vigorous. He's undecided in a lot of things, always looking for another's advice before approaching any one solution.

Leukos is a warrior at heart, nothing can ever quell that longing, that fire raging deep in his stomach, but he is more reserved and cautious. He's a strategist, ever nervous before a battle unless he's some sort of plan going into it.




He's the appearance of a wolf twice his age and the gait of one just clinging to the last of his years, any semblance of youth bled out and chewed on by the bear. He no longer resembles the strapping yearling he was when he left Nashoba, amber eyes glistening orange and full of ambition.

A brute and beastly, he shambles, his hindquarters marred and difficult to walk on. His back legs support his full weight but cause him to limp severely, preventing him from a full sprint and hindering his ability to travel long distances or hunt. In all regards, he is a wolf fully reliant on his pack, unable to support himself on his own. He's a capable fighter and fierce in a battle, but unable to provide the pack even the smallest of game unless already dead, a predator turned scavenger.

His white pelt and undertones of gray are patchy at best, thick scars covering his back and flanks. Despite his clambering stride, he looks formidable, head held low as his eyes narrow in. He's experience fighting, has trained with Nashoba's finest, and is experienced in a battle. Though his disability limits him in some aspects, he's learned to adapt it in others. His tactics in battle are well practiced and it would do a foe best to notice that. He's a heavy paw which can strike fiercely and a brutal bite.


Adamo Mori [ father, deceased ]
Morrigan Lofin [ mother, deceased ]

Vestigo Mori [ brother, alive ]


  • He's a raspy voice, a laugh that crackles softly. In high emotion, his voice wheezes the more intense and louder it becomes.
  • You can hear him coming from a distance, his limp quite noticeable.

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