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"I will hunt you in the woods, through the fields, though the deserts, and through the mountains. Where the Queen commands, this wolf shall howl, this wolf shall slay."

0 · 323 views · located in Aurora

a character in “Prophecy”, as played by Shadow44499



Name: Korak

Age: 213 (The Spirit has granted him long life.)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Appearance: Korak in human form stands about 6'7", his skin olive and his hair jet black and rests at the back of his neck. His cheeks are scuffled with light amounts of hair and a large scar of what seems to be a bear claw goes down his face. His eyes are dark blue and intense. He normally wears leather armor with a fur cape, a great sword at his side.

Role: Minion / The Queen's Hound.

Combat Info


Spirit Blooded: Karok long ago sold his soul to a Wolf-Spirit, in return the spirit joined with him and gave him supernatural abilities. In short Korak is a Werewolf for lack of better terms. Capable of taking two forms. Human and War-Form.

War-Form: War-Form is a Quadrupedal wolf-like state, or Half-man. In this state Karok becomes incredibly powerful, boasting incredibly strength, stamina, resilience, and dexterity. However when in this form Karok more easily succumbs to his spirit sides instincts, making him dangerously angry and unpredictable to even his allies.

Supernatural Attributes: No matter what form Korak is in, he is stronger and faster than any mortal man. This makes him a danger even in his natural form when he wields his great sword. Korak also has animal-senses in either form. War-Form just enhances both of these traits to nightmarish levels.

Regeneration: Korak's spirit works to keep its host alive. This gives in to perhaps one of his most terrifying powers. No matter what form Korak is in he can regenerate from wounds, damage to tissue such as skin or organs will take merely seconds to repair, and damage to bones will only take minutes. This makes the beast incredibly difficult to slay. However, damage from his banes or to his spine or brain will prevent him from regeneration. A blade through the heart will merely paralyze him however.


Hunter: Korak is a hunter, an apex predator. Hiding from him is near impossible unless done by magical means and running will only achieve a more painful death. Korak can track in nearly any terrain and survive in them with ease.

Ferocious: Korak fights like the animal caged inside of him, without mercy, fear, or remorse. Korak will do anything to slay and devour his prey once the hunt starts, this coupled with his super-human abilities makes him a terrifying foe in close-quarters.

Bestial: Korak fights with his teeth and claws as if they were extensions of himself. While he fights with hardly any finesse, he is incredibly accurate and patient to slay his prey.

Spirit-Magic: Korak has very limited access to the spell-craft of the spirit within him. He can cast basic spells involving the hunt and the like. While he can only cast in human, the effects of lingering spells will stay with him in War-Form.

The Unease: One glance into Korak's eyes and a human, no matter how powerful they are, would feel his presence. Possibly distrust or fear him. This is caused by the Spirit within, for he is a hunter of man and a predator of such. Korak is easily distinguished from others by this trait and obviously unhuman. This will always manifest in others, the levels vary, some may only know he is a predator, others will feel cautioned and nervous, some will distrust and hate him instinctively, while weaker-willed beings will run screaming or fall apart in stress and panic.


Banes: Korak has banes due to his spirit side, these banes cut through his skin like butter and leave wounds which take weeks and possibly years to heal. The first and formost is Silver, just like out of legend, silver burns a spirit at its core and is Korak's greatest bane. In most cases he'll flee after being struck by it, but under order of Her of having his back to the wall he'll fight like a beast. Magical Flame is the next, it sends terror into the spirit inside of him and makes it harder for him to fight. It also slows his regeneration.

Undisciplined: Korak fights like an animal, this may make him incredibly adaptable and good at slaying men. It makes him a hard ally. In the heat of blood-rage or death-rage Korak barely has recognition for friend or foe, lashing out at both with equal rage and blood-lust.

Pride: Korak sees himself as the Apex predator and challenges against such will lure him into rage that much more easily.

The Rage: While yes, berserk increases his skill it makes him weaker in a sense. He looses mental facilities and becomes less than human. During this state he is more easily controlled through mind-control, though he will only be able to obey simple spells. This makes him easy to use as a weapon against his own allies.

Animal Sided: Korak has the spirit of an animal, therefor is Half-Animal. This can be used against him, perhaps the proper hand could file down the rage and turn him on his master, unlikely though.


Bear-Spirits and Spirits more powerful than Wolf
Toran's Blade
Bandriel's displeasure

The Hunt
Bandriel's Power

Arrows in his Hide
Shapeshifters of any sort other than fellow Wolf-Blooded


God: Despises all Gods.

History: Korak was once a human shaman who lived in the far mountains. His people worshiped the Spirits of Wolf and Bear with fevor and delight. Korak spent years in this life, always working to please Wolf to ascend to Godhood himself and one day he did. He managed to trade his soul to a dark Wolf spirit, in turn, the Wolf spirit would make him "immortal and powerful".

Korak quickly accepted the deal and in his First Change, destoryed his village and doomed them to die by the hands of their own totem spirit. Since that day Korak wandered the world doing as he pleased. He became folk-lore, a terror of the Kingdom and was thought to be slain 40 years ago in a Legendary Story about a Knight clad in Gold who swung Silver like fire. The story was true and Korak managed to flee, for 30 years he tried to nurse his own wounds.

And then he came upon Bandriel, he became forsworn by her beauty and power, pledging to serve her. This caused his spirits power to grow and his wounds to heal faster upon that night. Since then Korak has served the Vile Queen as one of her Chief Lieutenants, he holds Toran as his greatest rival and the only step in his way to becoming Bandriel's favored, one day he will prove the human weak and become Her Champion.

Family: None

Hometown: A destoryed Anicent Village in the Mountains.

So begins...

Korak's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bandrial the Wicked. Character Portrait: Toran Character Portrait: Korak Character Portrait: Leonid Sulla Character Portrait: Alice Blackwood Character Portrait:
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Bandrial awoke as the sunlight flitted in her stain glass windows. Her pale, smooth form emerged from under the crimson silk blankets that covered her throne like bed. Her ruby hair cascaded down her naked body like a river of blood. She gathered the blankets around her, ignoring the unconscious male form in her bed, and rose to meet the morning.

She watched as her guards as they switched shifts, or bossed the slaves around the courtyard. If it weren't for the nagging on her heart, she would have embraced this morning the same way she had done the eighteen years she had been in power, with grace and unrelenting malice. The prophecy plagued her heart, and it threatened to consume her with hatred. Today was not like other days. Today was the day the eight were to be born, the day that the destined heroes would crawl from their mother's womb and rip her from her throne that she had rightfully earned.

She wouldn't crumble under the pressure of her own demise. This world was her own to mold how she wished, she would would do as she wished and her inhabitants would have to admire her from afar as she blazed by, transforming Aurora into her own playground. Those who opposed her would burn in the tails of flames she left in her wake.

The crimson sorceress turned toward her stone doors, voices drifting in through the walls.

“They say her bed is filled with the blood of all the men she has killed in there.” one female voice spoke softly.

“Do you want her to hear you?” stuttered another.

“It's just eerie, I never want to go in there.” They were servants, probably cleaning the hall outside her quarters. She couldn't hide the sadistic grin that clung to her lush scarlet lips as she opened her door.

“You there,” she commanded, pointing at the woman who had just been so scared to enter her room. Bandrial's smile widened as the color drained from the woman's face.

“Come here, I need someone to help me dress.” The woman shivered so badly it looked like she would faint as she walked into the Blood Queen's domain. She worked wordlessly, helping the naked woman into a slinky black dress, and then finally working on the laces of her corset.

“That's too loose,” Bandrial sang with a sickly tone. The woman's fingers were shaking so hard that it appeared that she might die of fright. She tightened the corset, showing off the seductress' fantastic curves, then finally tieing it off.
Bandrial turned, magic fire dancing from her fingertips.

“Ouch,” she said mockingly.“That hurt.” and she watched as the woman combusted into flames. Her screams piercing even through the thick stone walls. Bandrial felt as the chuckle erupted from her lips, she watched in pleasure as the woman died, her smoldering corpse lying on the floor.

The man in her bed shot up in terror but could not remove himself from the room. He was tied to the bed posts of her bone carved headboard.

“Toran,” she called in a husky sing-song like manner. She used her way to communicate with all of her elite forces. They all had something that she could project her voice into. For some it was a piece of jewelry, some it was mind contact. It didn't matter. They knew when she was talking to them and could hear her proclamation.

“I need you in my quarters my love,” she slithered, stressing the word love. “There has been an incident.”

It took him almost no time at all to enter her room. She gave him a sultry look as he entered, walking over to him and touching his face.

“Another of my servants burst into flames,” she said with mock concern. “Also this man won't leave my bed.” her voice grew dark and seductive, she whispered in his ear. “You can take care of that for me, can't you?” She watched him with glee shining in her dark eyes.

“Meet me in the throne room,”she projected to the rest of her servants, "There is much to discuss."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bandrial the Wicked. Character Portrait: Korak Character Portrait: Alice Blackwood Character Portrait: Giddeon Rosenheart Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Korak marched slowly toward the Throne room that beheld his Ruler. His metal heeled boots making soft clacks on the floor below him as his legs carried him into the Palace. He had been summoned by Bandriel, and as always, he was nearby skulking along the perimeter of the large haven of his Alpha to keep any possible threats from entry, he was after all, a Hound. Though he despised that term, Korak was a mighty Wolf, not a Hound. The scent of the outside world soon drifted from his keen nostrils and were quickly replaced with the warm, supple of what he deemed his home, it was musty scent of dust, and stone, and cloth, with a faint tinge of sweet blood and fear now and then. It was a welcoming scent, one humans couldn't detect easily, nor would it have the resonance within them as it did him.

As Korak sauntered through, he'd look at each Guard, most bowing their heads and avoiding eye contact, some freezing up and becoming stiff and unweary due to The Unease, or the spirit that rested under his eyes, whispering out for their blood and flesh if they met its cold and predatory gaze. A smirk would cross his strong-jawed maw each time as his black-bear fur coat flew behind him. The male was glad in light and nearly grizzled leather armor, his left arm and shoulder devoid of any clothing or armor other than strap in which his cloak linked to his body. A soft stubble of facial hair covered his chin and cheeks, but otherwise he was well-groomed, odd for a wolf. Tribal tattoos trailed along his neck, words and phrases, names of the greater creatures he had slain in his hunts. His right hand rested on the golden and emerald pommel of his heavy blade that lay in its sheath upon his side.

Korak pushed the great doors of the Throne apart with ease, his walk was poised and confident, nearly as confident as the voice that rang through the halls. "You called, majesty?" . There was no disrespect in that voice, nor disdain, only sincerity and that icy cold tinge of his tribal accent, still remaining after all these years. Upon nearing the Throne, he'd stop next to the Witch, who had already entered, dropping into a kneel before looking up at the Queen, his eyes reaching for hers for a brief moment before turning and starting at Giddeon. A cold, icy scare accompanied by The Unease from the creature within. After a few more moments of kneeling, he'd rise slowly and await her golden, powerful words. His ears still listening for anything else approaching Her throne.