Illyria Duke
Her wild feral stare,
her dark hair / Her
winter lips as cold
as stone.
her dark hair / Her
winter lips as cold
as stone.
Appearance
Despite her ability to wear thousands of faces to hide her own, or to hide behind the furs of animals, Illyria in her natural form is quite beautiful. Often said to be haunting, she has long tangles of ebony hair and eyes so green, they were crystalline. Perfectly pink full lips that appeared like a blush on her porcelain skin, sometimes she looked as if she were sickly. She is of an athletic physique, although prefers to wear a slim figure with plain features when she travels to blend in easily. Rarely does she take on the same appearance as someone else, but avoids doing in fear she would be figured out. Illyria tends to shift to her canine appearance, a smaller than average wolf with a dark fur coat and yellow-green eyes. This form is one of comfort, knowing this skin well and using it to travel at faster speeds or trek through forests.
Biography & Lore
Illyria was abandoned as a child, left to wander a market by the port that was no place for young girls. She was taken to the edge of the forest by nightfall, left for the wolves that surely would relish at her warm flesh. Whether it was brought on by fear or by divine intervention, she shifted for the first time into that of a young wolf pup. Over a decade, she would shift into many other creatures, surviving as a wolf that ran with one of the largest packs found in these woods. Humanity was forgotten, and feral instinct became her safenet whenever she encountered a human wandering off the path. Murder was not a concept she understood, only thinking of what the young, elderly, and sickly would eat if she did not return a meaty bounty. Human or animal, their blood coated her dark fur for months on end.
Remembering the faces of the men that left her to die after all these years, her return to the portside town was her greatest haunting. Illyria began observing humans over the ten years she lived wildly, growing old enough to discover humane thoughts that manifested as she neared twelve years of age. Even at this time, she had grown into a beauty. Her natural face was one she stuck too, in the beginning, as her ability would soon be able to shift and mold easily the more she exercised her imagination. Her natural appearance was the same as a child, and upon her revisit to the port, she was able to leave those responsible for her soul mutilation bouts of paranoia and sleepless nights. There was nothing more that she loved than to circle wounded prey.
At thirteen, Illyria was taken from the forest and underwent a program that attempted to rehabilitate her to human society. After some progress, she was offered to the Academy found in Vel Anir, to train and one day become a Dreadlord after her fondness for blood became prevalent. They believed she would be loyal, that they could wield this wild thing they tamed to their specifications, but strict routine and rules made her feel caged. Defecting from this education, she earned her freedom once more. There were no rules that told her to behave within margins, nor was she subjected to socialising until exhaustion.
Remembering the faces of the men that left her to die after all these years, her return to the portside town was her greatest haunting. Illyria began observing humans over the ten years she lived wildly, growing old enough to discover humane thoughts that manifested as she neared twelve years of age. Even at this time, she had grown into a beauty. Her natural face was one she stuck too, in the beginning, as her ability would soon be able to shift and mold easily the more she exercised her imagination. Her natural appearance was the same as a child, and upon her revisit to the port, she was able to leave those responsible for her soul mutilation bouts of paranoia and sleepless nights. There was nothing more that she loved than to circle wounded prey.
At thirteen, Illyria was taken from the forest and underwent a program that attempted to rehabilitate her to human society. After some progress, she was offered to the Academy found in Vel Anir, to train and one day become a Dreadlord after her fondness for blood became prevalent. They believed she would be loyal, that they could wield this wild thing they tamed to their specifications, but strict routine and rules made her feel caged. Defecting from this education, she earned her freedom once more. There were no rules that told her to behave within margins, nor was she subjected to socialising until exhaustion.