Known Aliases:
Current Residence: The Lunae Silva Forest
Place of origin: Nox Keep
Profession: Nature Guardian and Adventurer
Race: Werewolf
Height: 5′ 9″ or 8′
Hair Color: Burnt Orange
Eye Color: Blue
Distinguishing Characteristics: Scars across face, can turn into giant wolf
Favored Weapon: Claws & Fangs
Likes: Loyalty, Animals, Food
Dislikes: Poachers, Dishonesty, Unjustified Violence
Allies: Snag, Smoke, Scrivener, Sanguine Luna
Enemies: Anyone who threatens their forest or friends
Special Lineage or Associations: Not anymore
Since 2013, Charlotte has been a part of the Dark Ones community. Despite facing personal challenges that required her to step back for a few years, she has always felt supported by numerous members who have shown her great friendship and encouragement. Now, feeling ready to fully engage with the community once more, Wolf brings with her a wealth of experience in volunteer management, party and event planning, and the arts. She has been actively participating in Historian and Oligarchy meetings, aiming to deepen her understanding of the organization’s infrastructure so that she can effectively contribute her skills to meet its evolving needs.
Wolf is a guild member in both Tavern keepers and Gate Keepers, working towards journeyman in both. Wolf has worked the entry gate at a few events, most recently at the Spring 2024 Men in Tights party, as well as shared the joy, and drinks, by working the bar at Deadman’s 2023 and 2022. She has also brought notable dishes to the potluck side of events, including a rabbit stew and venison stew to the Men in Tights party that were FAR from a wild boar, vanishing quickly.
I am eager to become a Dark One member because I aspire to be a fully engaged contributor within the community. One of my greatest sources of fulfillment comes from witnessing the happiness of my friends. Seeing them enjoy themselves at events, meetups, or activities that I have organized fills me with immense joy. Becoming a member will afford me the opportunity to wholeheartedly apply my skills to the group and reciprocate the support and encouragement that they have generously given me.
Once, she bore a name gifted by her parents, a name whispered with love but forgotten amidst the harsh realities of life on the fringes of society among a band of misfits, thieves, and mercenaries. The name they gave her is now forgotten, dead as the child she once was. She earned a new name, one forged in the crucible of survival, a name that echoed with the clang of stolen riches and the splatter of blood. Even that name, once a symbol of camaraderie and strength, crumbled to ash as her companions descended into madness, their once-cohesive band devolving into nothing better than a pack of feral beasts.
Their latest heist, a promised bounty turned deadly trap from the royal guards, forced them into the heart of the untamed forest, where the ancient trees whispered warnings of danger. Ignoring the omens, their leader, driven by desperation, wielded the oldest tool of destruction harnessed by human hand, the red flower of fire, as a weapon of escape, heedless of the devastation it wrought upon the land. Amidst the chaos of flames and smoke, she pleaded for reason, feeling the pain, the fear, the agony of the wilds around them searing her soul, but her cries fell on deaf ears. In a moment of desperate defiance she showed her steel claw, and he escaped bearing her dagger in his flesh deep in his side even as she bore the mark of his across her face.
The world turned around her to green and red. Fire and life. The damage had been done. As the forest burned around her, she fell to the steaming forest floor, her body wracked with pain and despair. Amidst the crackling inferno, a voice, a primal whisper from the heart of the wild, commanded her to rise. And rise she did, on padded feet, towering higher than she ever had, transformed into a sentinel of the forest. Bound by an unbreakable tether to the land she once traversed as a mere mortal, she now prowls as its protector, a guardian of the untamed realm. She stalks now as its defender, knowing neither guard nor thief, peasant, or noble. She knows only those that would harm her forest, and they fall in shreds to her claws and jaws as their blood falls as rain to cool the blaze they brought. She stands vigilant, ready to face whatever trials the future may bring. Gone are the names that once defined her, both given and earned, consumed by the crucible of fire and rebirth. Now, she is only Wolf.
