Character Bio Thread

[Khazvarg]

Name: Thazgor (Dwarven) Raelor (Darnnassian)

Race: Night Elf

Class: Druid of the Claw

House Name: N/A

Title: The friend of the Dwarves

Nickname: "Dwarf-elf"

Height: 180 CM

Weight/Build: Muscular

Residence: The Hinterlands

Birthplace: Val´Sharah

Motto: "Home is were our heart belongs"

Physical Description:
For some even considered unnatural, Raelor´s height is his most remarcable aspect. Born shorter than the average Nigth elf, He proudly stands around 180 CMs. Despite that, he maintains a very muscular build. At his current age, he shows a long and bushy beard, wich is black with some silver threads around. He carefully maintains a completely bald cut, giving him even a more rare look for an elf. He has silver eyes and even bear-like traits in his face.

Brief History:
Raelor, how is he know for his people, was born 10.000 years ago in Val´sharah, because of his shorther heigth, he was alredy misjudged for his kin. Despite that, he learned the ways of the druid, time when he found a profund conection with the spirit of bear, and decided to become a Druid of the Claw. Along the years to come, he participated in some of the most relevating events for the Kaldorei, but always in a very unnoticed rol due to his misjudging. His displaced rol in the night elf society, and the deep conection to the spirit of bear leaded to him acquiring a very feral attitude and psyche, wich caused him some problems with the other druids later.
After the events of the third war, and tired of the derogatory look of his people, he decided to exile himself to the western kingdoms, settling in the Hinterlands, where he locked deep friendship and respect with the Wildhammer Dwarfs, and started to being called Thazgor wich means "Keeper of the wild" by them.

Art Gallery:


Use the "Basic" look desinged by Oscar¡ And give him your love¡
Art comming from: Oscar Shadowpriest Lazo.

[Sinrek]

Glad to see s'more fellow Kaldorei, alas, wasn't that suppose to be "home is where our heart belongs"? Minor mistypes here and there, but I'm glad you continue on!

Elune watch over you.

[Drajjdasz]

Transfering

[Khazvarg]

Name: Talus Dawnforge

Race: Dwarf

Class: Paladin

Profession Blacksmith

Title: Avenger of Anvilmar

Nickname: Tas (For friends) Dawnforger(within the order)

Height: 140 CM

Weight/Build: Sturdy

Residence: Ironforge

Birthplace: Ironforge

Motto: "Ancient Kings, let me be the instrument of yar wisdom", "The light of forge is within our hearts", "Light be with ya"

Physical Description:

Talus is an average dwarf both on height and build, yet he posses a sturdy and worked built due to his trade as a blacksmith. His hair is dark brown colored, and he mantains a medium large cut and a short beard, both carefully kept and braided. His body and face show some battle scars, but none being more remarcable than the other. He depicts a solemn demeanor on his face, and a strong inner fire and force of will on his attitude.

Brief History:

Talus was born sometime before the end of the war of the three hammers in the capital city of Ironforge. Son of a controversial and unofficial affair between old rival clans, his origins always caused whispering within the dwarves. He grew up with his mother and half brother on the recently founded city of Aerie Peak, learning from the wildhammers their ancient customs and traditions, yet never feeling a true belonging with the clan and their gryphon riding legacy.

Looking for a place to fit in, Talus became a blacksmith apprentice, this trade became his pasion and settled a path that took him far from the wildhammers themselves. Never getting fully accepted, he was sent to Dun Morogh for a fresh start, settling himself on Anvilmar as a local blacksmith. One night, the settle was overrun by a group of frostmane trolls, which killed some dwarves and momentarily hold control over the place. Talus, inspired by a inner fire of courage and justice, managed to lead a counter attack with some of the settlers, driving back the trolls and regaining control of Anvilmar. Being severely wounded during the fight, Tas was moved to Ironforge in order to heal his wounds, from then, he stood on the city and gain a vast renow as a first class blacksmith, and was always know as the avenger of Anvilmar for the settlers.

Recently, Tas was invited by The Order of the Knights of the Silver hand to work with them as a blacksmith, yet he felt the calling of the crusade and the blessing of the light and joined the order becoming a Paladin. By his deeds and accomplishments, Khazvarg was renamed as Talus Dawnforge, or Dawnforger, by his brothers within the order.


Art Gallery:

[Drajj]

[deleted]

[Rydertheking]

Name: Ryder
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
House Name: None
Title: None
Nickname: Ryder

Height: 6'2
Weight/Build: Lean but has muscles

Residence: Homeless
Birthplace: Lordearon

Motto: "Am I worthy of taking a life, or am I just a demon..." - "To be stronger, you must be willing to sacrifice!"

Physical Description:
Black, short hair. Eyes with no empathy nor emotion.

Brief History:
Ryder is a man of few words. He witnessed his parents death during the Scourge of Lordaeron, and out of pure luck he escaped with his uncle who sadly had his life taken by the Scourge as he sent Ryder away on a carriage. As years went by, Ryder grew to become apathetic to those around him, and decided to seek strength in order to take revenge to his previous lord, Arthas Menethil. But he knows this is a pipe dream, but a dream must start from somewhere...

[Jam]

Jam

Aliases: Chef, J-man, J
Relatives: Innkeeper Wiley (adoptive father)
Current Affiliation: Horde, Steamwheedle Cartel, Broken Keel Tavern
Former Affiliation: Frostwolf Clan, Venture Company
Date of birth: Year 1
Place of birth: Alterac Valley
Species: Orc
Gender: Male
Height: 7'2"
Weight: 425
Eye color: Blue

Jam is a large orc with an intense countenance. Even when relaxed and jovial there is a severity to his gaze and gravitas in his words. He works daily in the kitchen of the Broken Keel Tavern as a cook, cleaner, and cart runner, gathering supplies for the business, as well as for Wiley's engineering. He has served as the cook in the Broken Keel Tavern since Year 13 when he was traded to Wiley by members of the Venture Company to settle an outstanding balance.

Birth and Discovery: Year 1
The wind howled and whistled as it tore through the rocks in Alterac. Draka was in her birthing bed and the Frostwolves gathered around her, eager to see the birth of their chieftain's heir. As they moved towards the tent a word began coursing through the crowd. "Green." The whelp had green skin. "He is corrupted," she thought. Aghast, a female orc, belly rounded with child staggered back from the crowd. Durotan and Drek'Thar were speaking to the mass of Frostwolves. Her thoughts were a deafening cyclone. She was sure they were discussing the end of the child. The banishment of it's mother. They wouldn't abide a green skinned spawn. Her hand flew to her belly and she set her jaw in determination. She had left her home following Durotan's orders. His assurances that it was "best for the clan." She had watched as her lifemate died a coward's death from a swampspider's poison. She would not die, weak from giving birth, to the whims of an imprudent chief. She had seen a yeti cave on their journey in, not a full day's journey from where she now stood. They were a warrior race, she would die a warrior's death.

The goblin cursed as he entered the cave. The smell of burnt yeti hair, rotting meat, and feces inundated the frozen air. "Smells like money." the foreman said. He was still entertaining what, exactly, it smelled like when he saw a lifeless brown mass on the cavern floor. Surrounded by dead yetis yet too small to be one, it looked like a large human, only uglier. Stark naked and with an axe in it's hand. The goblin struggled to roll the humanoid over. As he did, a grunt escaped from within the corpse. Greed lit a fire in the goblin. A small yeti, a parasite, a flesh eating spider? "Look at this," he yelled, to no one in particular, as he produced a small knife. The goblin cut open the orc and withdrew her son. The small orc flailed about as the goblin held it up by one leg. "Hells," he said to the infant, "You and the axe are worth more than a day's wage." "Send in the 'volunteers', it is all clear," he yelled, chuckling to himself. He spun on his heel, hooked the axe under it's blade and headed for the cave entrance.

Venture Company Internment, Fel involvement, and Release: Years 1-13
Jam learned to speak by listening to the goblins on the journey around the Eastern Kingdoms and back to the barrens. He was kept in a sack whenever he wasn't behind a locked door. They told him he was uglier than a gnome, with teeth like a pig and that they'd have to pay anyone who saw him. They poked his tusks and mocked his skinny ears. At three years of age, Jam stood taller than his goblin taskmasters but did not resist their orders. At five he was removed from the travelling expedition team he had been on and placed at the Boulderlode worksite. There, the ventrue company had made an agreement with rogue warlocks. Jam was empowered as the raging orcs of the invaiding force, forced to develop to a more usable age and size by their fel magics and demonic assistance.

Kept hidden from sight, Jam was overseen by human and ogre taskmasters due to his size. He was kept at the head of the workforce but separated from the other slaves. Guarded like a trade secret, the wars and events of Kalimdor had no impact on Jam as he toiled in the dirt, dust and rock.

The first time Jam saw another orc he was 11 years old. The chaos that ensued took all five human taskmasters and one ogre to quell. After subduing him, Boss Copperplug decided that it wouldn't be cost effective to kill Jam and lose an experienced and relatively content worker or to lose his newly acquired, and much larger, orc. Copperplug made the two orcs an offer. In exchange for his continued service, Jam would be taught to speak the language of the orcs and would also take on new responsibilities at the site. Jam did not hear any terms offered to the large orc that still looked alien to him.

As his orders stated, Jam ran mine carts and quelled disputes amongst the smaller "volunteers," as they were called, when directed. He didn't fear the electric jolt from whatever goblin machinery they were currently testing as a motivator, nor did he fear the beatings of the gnoll or human taskmasters. He only spoke goblin and orcish, so the jumbled mess the gnolls gibbered as they kicked or threw things at him just sounded comical. The humans sounded nicer but there intent was the same. The only thing Jam cared about was getting to talk to his friend, Rekgor, at the end of each day. Rekgor was a crafty old orc and Jam admired him. He was shorter than Jam, standing 6'5" but he was almost double his girth. Rekgor explained to Jam that he was a prisoner and told him of the orc's story outside his captivity. He spoke of their bloodlust, and the lethargy that gripped them now. He reminisced of the old ways, of shamanism and of another world. Jam was in awe of the stories but never doubted Rekgor's sincerity. Jam spoke very little and Rekgor talked almost constantly, growing more energetic and strengthening each day. Jam came to trust Rekgor completely. Numerous times Rekgor seemed to do the impossible, stopping rocks from falling right as Jam was sure they would. Producing water from the rock when Jam could find no stream. For two years Jam and Rekgor dug at the site in the Northern Barrens, turning the boulder lode worksite into the boulder lode mine.

The Barrens sun burned down on the Boulder lode mine as Wiley approached in his wagon. "Copperplug!" He shouted. "Where's my payment?!" Wiley looked around at the scene before him. "Slaves," he thought disgustedly, "No different than the trolls."

"Ahh, Wiley," Copperplug began, coming down from the second level of the site's outbuilding. "Let me cut ya short, pal." Wiley interjected, "I ain't here ta hear your pleasantries or excuses. I'm here for my gold, or Gazlowe'll be here for your hide. This is the balance." With that Wiley tossed a small clamped bill at Copperplug. Copperplug looked over the bill and then looked past Wiley at his wagon. "You alone, Wiley?" he asked perfidiously. "What's it matter to you, Coppertop? Send one of your lackeys to get my gold already, I got the cook watchin' shop." Copperplug tucked the bill into his vest pocket and looked back at an ogre "Send for the green," he said, "both of them." "Money'll be up in just a tick ol' Wiley," Copperplug sneered.

The sunlight was brighter than Jam wanted to endure as he approached the mine's entrance. He'd been digging inside and not allowed to leave for at least a year. "Listen, pup," his old friend said in a whisper, "whatever this is, it isn't good." The ogre that fetched the pair walked in front of them, his footfalls mixing with the pings and thuds of mining. "If anything starts, I want you to run. You've a life to live and I've a lifetime of blood to pay for." Jam nodded his understanding. "This conversation has happened before," he remembered, "close to when we met. This old orc is certain he must die to make up for his past." The piercing sun broke Jam's thought. The two orcs emerged into the warm Barrens air. Jam noticed the new goblin immediately. He was dressed nicer, not wearing leather or ragged cloth. His outfit looked soft. He was cleaner than any goblin he'd seen and had gold jewelry in his ears. "Here's my payment, Wiley," Copperplug said as the orcs arrived by his side, "These two are gonna allow you to leave and we're going to be even." "Well Copperslug," Wiley said chuckling, "I see you still think you see opportunity when you're staring at defeat. That's how ya ended up owing me so much if you recall. Thalo'thas, let's show 'em the collection cannon!" The canvas top on the back of the wagon was tossed aside and Jam raised his brows as a tall slender humanoid was revealed leaning on a large gun. "You see "Boss"," Wiley said mockingly, "What you've done here is brought me my payment, yeah? Cuz if that wasn't why you called these two orcs, I'm going to be forced to ask T up there to light the cannon." Copperplug stared ahead at the ship size cannon. "Yeah... Yeah Wiley, that's what I was doing. I don't have the money to pay ya," he blubbered, "so I called for my two best workers! You can take 'em! We're even now right?"

[Cervantes]

Here is my new character Azraelon The Vengeful for my Dungeons and Dragons campaign
but i'm also going to make him on turle wow when High Elfs are live.

Name: Azraelon
Real Name: Kaldur
Race: High Elf, Moon Elf
Class: Blood Hunter/ Hunter
House Name: Silent Run
Title: The Vengeful
Nickname: Tracker of Sin
Height: 5.9
Weight/Build: Slim 65 kg
Residence: Wander
Birthplace: High Forest / Eversong Woods
Motto: My Blood is my fuel to victory

Physical Description:
A slim build with white skin like the snow, long tied back white hair with elements of silver. Piercing blue eyes with a few specks of gold.

Brief History:
Azraelon believes he is the only survivor from his home village in the High Forest / Eversong Woods after the total destruction of his village, he looks for any way to gain new powers to aid him in his quest for revenge. It seems undead were the ones who are reasonable.
He sought out the Blood hunters / hunter and studied under his new master who was called Salvodor Darkmore.
He trained under the Darkmore order for a number of years. Darkmore told him about the power of the Worgen and told him that if you want to destroy the evil forces you need to become stronger. take this power and become a full member of the order, which he did. Now with his new skills and ability, he has become an adept mercenary and bounty hunter.

Darkmore order of the Worgen are different from most Worgen. They aren't mindless creatures. they can control their emotions via medication, magic, and self-discipline.These Worgen may resist being overcome by their feral instincts.

[Yvory]

Name: Vendel Kingslight, Son of the noble Horace Kingslight the "Hammer"
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
House Name: House of the Wolven storm, supposedly destroyed a few years ago.
Title: /
Nickname: Ingame knowledge
Height: 1m 91
Weight/Build: 91 Kg
Residence:Ingame knowledge
Birthplace: Lordaeron, Caer Darrow
Motto:"Nobility ain't coming from a title, maggot, strongest paladin Ive ever known came from a goddamn farm. "

Physical appearance: Middle age man with a wild aspect but yet noble stance.
Brown long haired, and a face covered by a cared beard, his blue eyes, vigilants, stand out quite well, especially during the day.

Well built, he seems to be physically strong and knowledgeable about hard work.

He has a old scar drawing a C in his uncovered neck.

[Oaksandcompany]

(Work in progress, will be updating as I get the time. I don't currently plan on doing anything in-depth at the moment, so it will be an informal profile. If I do end up going further, for reference, I average 2-6 paragraph replies. I just tend to RP better when I am not sober, as I have issues with memory retention and focus otherwise.)

• Name: Tseiran (they/them)

• Race: Tauren

• Class: Shaman

• Title: Wanderer

• Nickname: Loafer, Smelly

• Height: Roughly 10 feet

• Weight/Build: Heavy, strong, chubby.

• Residence: Nowhere in particular, but prefers cooler climates

• Birthplace: Thunder Bluff

• Motto: "Relax for two seconds, you might enjoy it."

Physical Description:

• Black and white Holstein with a long, scruffy mane that is rarely brushed. Smells strongly of strawberries and skunk weed. Clothing tends to be light and comfortable. (won't be fully set on this until I get a commission)

Personality:

• Tseiran is rather dopey and tired, easygoing. They are mostly deaf and have rather bad eyesight, instead relying as much on smell and touch as much they do with sight and hearing. From the outside, they seem lazy, often found in the shade munching on something or other, usually smoking something pungent. They hate to laugh at terrible puns and often complain about others working too hard.
  
  Despite their outward appearance, they tend to have a strong work ethic and have no issue going out of their comfort zone to help someone in need, whether it be carrying something heavy or deterring a ravenous beast from it's next meal. What they won't help with, however, is senseless violence. Like nearly any Tauren, Tseiran prefers a close connection with nature, taking only what they need and giving back when they can.

Brief History:

• Tseiran tends to avoid talking about their past as often as they can. What they will to you is that after growing up in Thunder Bluff, Tseiran found their calling by running deliveries between the various camps, allowing for them to be at there as little as possible.

Other:

• Likes:

Thunderstorms - Tseiran loves to lie out on the ground and watch the clouds light up while listening to the rain.
Trees - the sound wind blowing through the leaves, the trees creaking as they sway.
Nighttime - seeing the moon against the silhouette of the trees

• Dislikes:

Heat - Tseiran doesn't handle the heat very well, it tends to sap their energy.
Alcohol - their stomach doesn't handle it very well
Flying - Tseiran has a pretty bad fear of heights and a fear of falling

• Art:

Eventually! I'll get a commission when enough money comes in. : P

RP info:

• When I'm playing, I'm RP'ing as if Tseiran is playing the game. Very informal, I know lol. I have no plans on getting into more in-depth RP at the moment, but there will be a separate section that addresses in-depth RP if it happens.

[Muthari]

Name: Enthia
Race: High Elf
Class: Mage
House Name: N/A
Title: N/A
Nickname: Thia
Height: 5'2
Weight/Build: Slim
Residence: Stormwind
Birthplace: Quel'Thalas
Motto: Progress isnt made without mistakes.
Personality: Reserved but optomistic.

Physical Description:
Appearing young and lithe in stature, the elf seems like she would crumble with a stern backhand. Physically she isnt imposing at all. Deep red hair, often wore short. Sea blue eyes- She is about average for an Elven lady.

Brief History:
After the fall of Quel'Thalas the young mage had to make her way south. Though with her extremely limited knowledge of magic, the mage found herself more a burden than aid. The other mages far to busy with relief efforts to truly teach her anything- she opted to take the first chance she could to get to stormwind.

Her aptitude for magic is low enough though that even the various guilds within the districts refused her. Now adays she does her best with the limited magic she knows to make ends meat.


((Roleplayers note))
This character is ment to be a longplay session. Something that will take alot of time for her to devlop.
I prefer long drawn out scenes, slice of life, character building and D&D styled combat.
She is not an adventurer yet, She is not even a mage really. Little more than a village girl who can conjure a candle flame.
I am activly seeking some roleplay friends to help play this story out.

[Littlebirdd]

Name: Tajassa
Race: Troll (Revantusk Forest Trolls)
Class: Shaman
House Name: N/A
Title: N/A
Nickname: N/A
Height: 7'1
Weight/Build: Kinda skinny but a bit buffy.
Residence: Currently at Orgrimmar sometimes at Amani'Alor.
Birthplace: Revantusk Village at The Hinterlands
Motto: "Dont be cursin' at the horde or you gettin a voodoo curse from Tajassa!"

Physical Description:

Tajassa is a young savage Revantusk Troll Shaman, he's that type of troll that never forgive and give no second chance to an enemy, he's so hostile to the alliance, he forgets about ''honor'' sometimes if he couldn't control himself and then kills an honorless, unarmed and defense less enemies just because of his bloodthirst, he doesn't kill them by chopping them but putting a curse or throwing lightning bolts at them by their lightning mojo and communicating with the elements.

A really evil enemy but a cool and sometimes funny friend to the horde, he's that type of troll who doesn't go so noisy, his warpaint on his face ressembles an oni skull, means that he's a spellchucker or a mystic from his tribe.

He is a monstrous looking Troll, red eyes, very sneaky, hideous and a trickster.


Brief History:

Tajassa is one of the Revantusk Trolls that has been sent to Kalimdor by their Elder Torntusk to aid the horde.


Art Gallery:

[Aeliren]

Currently a Work in Progress.

Biographical Information:

• Name: Reldo Cogspanner

• Race: Gnome

• Class: Warrior

• Height: 3'6"

• Weight/Build: Athletic

• Residence: Tinker Town, Ironforge

• Birthplace: Gnomeregan, Dun Morogh

Physical Description:

• [Description Here]

Brief History:

• A professional trooper, Reldo Cogspanner joined Gnomeregan's military at a young age, and fought both in the Second War against the Orcish Horde and against the troggs in the fall of Gnomeregan. After Sicco Thermaplugg's grand betrayal and the exodus of the remaining gnomes to Ironforge, Reldo has begun to travel the world, taking on people's hardships and strengthening himself through them in order to prepare himself for the war to retake Gnomeregan.

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Biographical Information:

• Name: Erin Coilspring

• Race: Gnome

• Class: Hunter

• Height: 3'3"

• Weight/Build: Fit

• Residence: Tinker Town, Ironforge

• Birthplace: Gnomeregan, Dun Morogh

Physical Description:

• [Description Here]

Brief History:

• [Backstory Here]

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Biographical Information:

• Name: Megwynn Wyatt

• Race: Human

• Class: Rogue

• Title: Operative

• Nickname: "Meg"

• Height: 5'5"

• Weight/Build: Lithe

• Residence: Various

• Birthplace: Boralus, Kul Tiras

Physical Description:

• [Description Here]

Brief History:

• Born in a traditionally military family, Megwynn Wyatt was raised by her aunt and uncle after her parents were killed during the battle of Theramore when Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore's blockade was destroyed. Growing up she followed in her parents' footsteps and joined the Kul Tiras Navy, however her natural aptitude in the ways of subtlety and subterfuge were noticed by her superiors during training, and she was offered a place as a covert operative, travelling abroad in service to her nation.

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Biographical Information:

• Name: Drenal G. Cogshanks

• Race: Goblin

• Class: Rogue

• Title: "Acquisitions Expert"

• Height: 3'4"

• Weight/Build: Pudgy

• Residence: Razor Hill, Durotar

• Birthplace: Bilgewater Port, Isle of Kezan

Physical Description:

• [Description Here]

Brief History:

• [Backstory Here]

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Biographical Information:

• Name: Delios Silverblade

• Race: High Elf

• Class: Paladin

• Title: Knight of the Silver Hand

• Height: 5'9"

• Weight/Build:

• Residence: Wandering

• Birthplace: Quel'thalas

Physical Description:

• [Description Here]

Brief History:

• [Backstory Here]

[Pistol]

Name: Rotheart
Race: Forsaken (Formerly Human)

Class: Warrior

House Name: N/A

Title: Executor of the Hand of Wrath

Nickname: N/A

Height: 5'11" (1.80 Meters)

Weight/Build: Somewhat muscular

Residence: Wherever he is stationed

Birthplace: Hillsbrad, Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Re-Birthplace: Silverpine Forest, Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Motto: We do what we must.

Physical Description:

Rotheart was once an average middle aged man in service of Lordaeron's army. Now, he is a walking corpse ruined beyond recognition. His face is shrunken in tightly on his skull from rot giving him a deathly visage. Numerous wounds dot his body with his open chest cavity being held shut only with thick pieces of leather.

Brief History:
Rotheart once bore a different name when he was but a humble family man in service of Lordaeron's army. Bloodied in the Second War and butchered and raised in the Third alongside his entire family, he felt the greatest of betrayals when his sacrifice was not enough for his former countrymen to accept him. Overtime Rotheart became a somewhat accomplished soldier in the Dark Lady's army before briefly working for the Southfury Trading Company. This was not to last as Rotheart was recalled to serve as Executor of the Forsaken Vanguard which became the Hand of Wrath.

Rotheart was killed in action while fighting alongside the Hand of Wrath at the Warsong Lumber Camp

Gallery:
Executor Rotheart with some of his comrades

[Niralthas]

Hello turtles,

Niralthas Moonsong, or simply Niralthas, stands tall among Night Elves at roughly 7 feet 8 inches. Despite his imposing stature, he exudes an air of casual refinement, draped in loose yet somewhat elegant attire. His affable demeanor is punctuated by a perpetual smile, occasionally revealing a missing canine earned in some forgotten Auberdine escapade.

As the Alliance Representative of The Salty Sailor Tavern Community in Booty Bay, Niralthas embodies camaraderie and friendship with his motto, "Everybody can turn out to be a helpful friend." He frequents the tavern, engaging in lively conversations or simply enjoying a pint of his favorite brew.

Niralthas wears a necklace adorned with a crescent moon, symbolizing his connection to the night and perhaps hinting at a deeper, more mystical aspect of his personality.

Despite his easygoing nature, Niralthas has his limits. In moments of extreme frustration or anger, he may flash a rare scowl or glare, but he never resorts to what he considers "foul cursing," preferring instead to handle situations with grace and diplomacy.

[Kiltzombie]

Arkei Windtree (my son's names IRL initials are R and K so spelled phonetically is Arkei. The first borns name means an ash tree and the youngest means mountain breeze and so you get Windtree)
Night Elf
Druid
Cenarion Circle
Physical description: work in progress
Story:
Born in Starbreeze Village,425 BDP. His mother was a priestess of Elune and his father a leather worker. From an early age Arkei showed an affinity for nature and an aptitude for druidism. Becoming a Druid would be the expected path for any male with his talents and a path he yearned to take.

That path would be forbidden to him. His mother did everything in her power to keep Arkei from becoming a druid for it had only led their family to ruin in the past.

Akei's grandfather was a druid. He fought in the War of the Satyr. The war cost many lives. The night elves were desperate and so some druids took up desperate measures. He became a Druid of the Scythe, utilizing the form of the pact and ultimately was lost to unrelenting rage. He was among those banished to the Emerald Dream leaving his daughter fatherless and the family shamed.

With his dream of becoming a druid forbidden by family history and pain, Arkei dabbled in leatherwork and healing. Being a male he could not become a priest of Elune but still learned what he could from his mother. Time passed with Arkei just going through the motions of life yearning for something more.

The Burning Legion returned and is at the footsteps of Mount Hyjal. All of his people fight to save Azeroth. Arkei went to war to help heal the wounded. He does all he can but a sense of helplessness and rage starts to fill him. He wants to do more. Something is telling him he can do more.

Weariness sets in after seeing so many lives lost and nature destroyed. Arkei goes to the front lines not caring for his own safety. Sentinels are bravely holding the line. The Druids are fighting in their bestial forms. The Priestesses of Elune are healing the wounded.

Through the chaos of battle he sees his mother. An infernal is breaking through the lines. Arkei charges towards his mother but it's too late. The group or priestesses are incinerated in fel fire. The rage that had been building overwhelmed him and he was immediately filled with a primal vigor. He kept charging but now on all fours. Filled with bestial strength and agility he leapt into the demonic horde. He was no longer a Night Elf but a bear, filled with all of nature's wrath.

Arkei found his way to the path. The way of the Druid was his calling.

[Triana]

Birth name: Unknown/uncertain

Used name: Yx

Honorifics: Hedge-mage, of the Flame, of Kalimdor, Wrathcaster

Age: Twenties

Race: Human (Alteraci)

Occupation: Hedge-mage; self-employed; cultist

Home: None/itinerant currently; formely Ratchet

Likes: FIRE. Talking to fire, looking at the sun, fervent worship of the Hungering Flame

(and to a lesser but notable degree: Outer Space, Free Cities, Certain pirate groups, spicy food, Goblin 'culture', the Steamwheedle Cartel, the idea of science, Twilight's Hammer)

Dislikes: The absence of something, (anything!) being on fire. Those who doubt the indescribable Hunger of the Flame {angrily}.

(and, again, to a lesser extent: anything that threatens free cities, Stormwind politics, Theramore legal system)

Interesting facts:

-Started own religion? (It is not clear to anyone who talks to him what he or his cultist activities are about, beyond the obvious)

-Not always all that coherent

-Lifetaps down to nothing when not in skirmishes— no compromise.

-Doesn't really understand what the "Alliance" or “Horde” is.

-Tends to be "brought along" generally and doesn't feel that strongly about most conflict.

-Speculated that the name YX comes from being simple symbols to draw in sand.

-Generally manic, though with some extended periods of calm.

-Harnesses flame direct from the stuff of the Twisting Nether

-Family/friends prior to his 'conversion' worry for his well-being

-Single target hellfire

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Background story:

The exact details and dates regarding Yx are not clear. The following is the best approximation from those close to him.

Yx was born to a merchant family of humans living in Kalimdor. It is generally said that the family was neither of great station nor standing but were known for having deep roots in the land of Alterac. They had fled the wars ravaging the Eastern Kingdoms early and had done relatively well for themselves. Despite this, it was said that their Alteraci heritage and the haste with which they fled led their fellow humans to shun and distrust this family, and that they were forced to seek umbrage with those outside of their race.

Fortunately for the family, they had already established trading ties in the Free City of Ratchet. Although it is not known how, when, or why exactly it happened, Yx came to be involved with the notable warlock coven that practices there. In this coven of goblins his initiation into magical instruction took place.

Sometime after reaching adulthood Yx's proficiency in fire magic began to become apparent. Initially, attempts were made at harnessing the magical flames in the name of 'science' and profit, but these ended in misfortune for the not-magically-proficient. In any case, his renown grew in coastal Kalimdor and he, emboldened, set forth on a journey Southward Bound.

It was on this journey that whispers in his campfire led Yx deep into the deserts of Tanaris. There he stayed for many months without giving word. When he returned, nearly naked and clearly forever changed, he began to practice a new religion. He saw clearly the Hunger of the Flame.
Nowadays, Yx adventures, fishes, helps out, and continues to participate in skirmishes, though his motivation for doing so seems to be more spiritually driven than out of any sort of allegiance.

Despite his state of mind and being, Yx has been tempered and brought somewhat more into the fold by his many companions. Look for Yx around Northern Kalimdor. He can often be found beside the fire at the Ered Ruin base camp in Demonfall Canyon.

[Widogast]

•Name: Firion Dawnseeker
•Race: Quel'dorei (High Elf)
•Class: Swordsman (Warrior)
•House Name: Dawnseeker
•Height: 6'2"
•Weight/Build: 226 lbs
•Residence: The Open Road
•Birthplace: Sunwell Isle, Quel'danas

It's not about whether I can or can't: I'm doing this because I want to. I decided while riding those rickety carts into Loch Modan that I was going to retrieve my family's blade. If I've got to die fighting for that, then I'd die! Simple as that!

He spoke of his death, smiling.

•Physical Description and Personality Profile:
Handsome, youthful features marred by the scars of conflict carry an expression of optimism and mirthful dreams to push him ever-forward. When time allows, the pale-haired elf was often seen laughing with his friends and day dreaming off into the distance of a reckless goal that most other elves balked at when he spoke of. Living up to the name Dawnseeker, Firion's body was a muscular temple hewn from hardship and necessity, rather than devotion to aesthetic that left him with a uniquely strong frame contrasting his peers.

Function over form when it came to equipment, Firion was unashamed to arm himself with items of dwarven make or even to draw upon enchantments from the trolls. A forward-thinker and unconcerned with the conflicts of the Alliance and Horde, Firion saw the world as an opportunity to find allies and friendly rivals around every corner. The world was too bleak, filled with too much hardship to go seeking to make more of it.

What good would all the treasure from adventures be if I was alone? I can only get there with help. Without these guys behind me, I don't think I'd make it very far but I'd still try. Lucky, I don't have to think about that!

•Brief History:
Born to the prestigious House Dawnseeker, Firion applied himself to live up to the name in every way that he could. It wasn't a question of whether or not he would be the best with a sword, it was a matter of that was all he could conceive to be. Tireless, humble, and willing to train until his hands bled, the young elf lived in the most idyllic place in the world to support his lifestyle. Devoted to the art of swordplay while his peers took to the bow or arcane arts, Firion sought to prove that the blade was equally as deserving of respect for its craft. Inspired and determined by the hero of his house that claimed the Sister Blade and cut a name for elven blademasters into history during the Troll Wars, Firion would have likely come to be known as a peerless swordsman would things have turned out differently and he was allowed to hone his skills over the course of decades, if not centuries.

The invasion led by Lordaeron's ghostly prince, the scarring of Quel'thalas, and the subsequent destruction of the Sunwell broke all aspirations and dreams of artistic aspiration and self-exploration, leaving a void in its wake that made each living elf important, a remnant that held the responsibility to the fallen that they must persist and reclaim what was lost. Too weak at the time to join the hero-prince Kael'thas Sunstrider, Firion would have to watch as his best friends and fellow swordsmen that survived the fall went off to fight for their futures, only for him to never see them again.

When finally the choice was made to seek refuge south in the arms of the Alliance, Firion had slowly felt his strength returning with his resolve. The sickness he felt in the wake of the Sunwell was fading, even though he did not make ample use of magic, his youth and the extent of his injuries in the absence of flourishing magic are what caused him such lethargy. Upon reaching the safe haven of Loch Modan and reclaiming the abandoned Farstrider Lodge, Firion set off on his own to seek adventure and do the impossible, hoping to breathe an air of hope back into his people like Thalorien used to do.


•Allies:

• Areia Silverlock, Argent Confessor

• Grimcackle, Gnoll Huntsman

• Isumea, Banshee Assassin

• Horgrag, Ogre Chieftain

•Art Gallery:
Face Reference:

https://twitter.com/AlexineSkiba/status ... 40/photo/1

Body Reference: (Warning: Heavy anime scars, little bit of blood)

https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/4234786

Thalorien Dawnseeker Concept Art, Inspiration:

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/AqXwqe

[Bisbyhoughton]

Name: Durgis Bak

Race: Goblin

Class: Hunter

Title: Rock and gem enthusiast


Height: 3'2"

Weight/Build: Slim

Residence: Sparkwater

Birthplace: Sparkwater

Motto: "Crack it open, see if it's shiny!"

Physical Description: A lithe little shit whose arms are covered in scratch marks from his various animal companions. He keeps a cap on at all times to keep the coastal Kalimdor sun off his head and a bag full of mining supplies and daggers on hand to deal with anybody who dares interrupt his frequent seaside siestas.

Brief History: Born and raised in Sparkwater among the Durotar Labor Union, Durgis has never been much of one for taking orders. As a young goblin, he frequently found himself on the receiving end of a salvage boss's "productivity encouragement device" due to his slackadaisical nature but that did not stop him from developing a profound love for all things related to geology and mining in between naps. Having been respectfully cut from the union's on-call labor pool due to lack of giving a shit about making yet another boss some more money, Durgis now founds himself roaming Durotar and The Barrens in search of new adventures.

[Pistol]

Name: Sir Vorick Zoller
Race: Forsaken (Formerly Human)

Class: Knight

House Name: Zoller

Title: 6th Baron of Caer Daun

Nickname: N/A

Height: 6'02" (1.90 Meters)

Weight/Build: Nearly Skeletal

Residence: None

Birthplace: Silverpine Forest, Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Re-Birthplace: Silverpine Forest, Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Motto: Lordaeron yet lives.

Physical Description:

Sir Vorick rotted for nearly twenty years within his family crypt, what remains of him is nought but bone held together by the rusting plate armor entombing him.

[Razzz]

Name: Lucille Grimlily

Race: Forsaken (Human type)

Class: Rogue

Title: The Limb Lady

Nickname: Lucy

Height: 5'9"

Weight/Build: 130 lbs / "Not much meat left on these bones."

Residence: "I can't afford one of those, no!"

Birthplace: Tirisfal Glades

Motto: "You wanna deal? I gotta deal! Yes!"

Physical Description:

Everything about Lucy is just...wrong. From her matted hair to her claw like toes, every little detail is somehow more gruesome than the last. She wears a raggedy leather shirt with matching shorts underneath a large, black trench coat. A coat which happens to drip blood at a constant rate and always smells like rotten meat. She seems to own an unknown amount of daggers as well. Where she keeps them is another mystery as her coat is filled to the brim with body parts. Her voice is equivalent to a giddy child's who just learned a new curse word.

Brief History:

Lucy doesn't speak of her past much at all. If one were to go by her demeanor and attitude then she likely died at a very young age, possibly even a teenager. She speaks quickly, loudly, and enthusiastically everywhere she goes. Most especially when she's attempting to do business with her fellow members of the Horde. Said business? Limbs! Where is she getting them? Alliance folk! And maybe a few gnolls, kobolds, and murlocs if they're in season. Once promised to bring in naga limbs to spice things up only to find out that nagas are limbless.

[Raukodor]

Name:Khanzo
Race: Orc
Class: Blademaster
Title: The explorer/the wanderer
Height: average for a orc
Weight/Build: strong but agile
Residence: wherever someone hired him
Birthplace: nagrand (draenor)
Motto: "never forget honor"
Physical Description: muscular Orc but agile. With long white beard and sharp eyes. Most notable trait his red skin and green-glowing eyes
Brief History:
"A Veteran old warrior who was born long time a go in Draenor. He was part of the Burning blade clan where most fiercest warriors were made because the toughness of his traditions and his spartan training"

At very Young age Khanzo showed being very skillful and strong. Being capable to beat even his fiercest enemies:the ogres.

When first horde was made Gul Dan saw Khanzo's skills; and like all the strongest orc warriorst he made khanzo part of his personal guard. (Something that caused a deep resentment between other orcs)

Years passed and the demonic corruption turned the powerful and honorable burning blade clan into a cult of warlock and mindless warriors.

at the end of the second war when gul dan betray the horde in his pursuit of power; khanzo left the ranks of the shadow council because is lack of honor. And joined The first horde in the last assault

At the end of second war when the horde was defeated he went to Blackrock mountain, where a blademaster named Jubei'Thos ruled over all the forces who scape from aliance.

Inside Blackrock mountain the "dark horde" fought with the dark iron dwarves for the control of the mountain. In one of those skirmishes Khanzo was ambushed by the dark iron emperor himself and his forces.

The emperor was pleased by the martial skills of khanzo and using his powerful magic they captured Khanzo. All for emperor sadistic fun. He keept khanzo into his personal arena where had to fought against terrible beast and foes.

Time passed and Thaurissan had the cruel idea of making khanzo his own war tool.
With the help of Thaurissan's most powerful mages and most skilled artisans they created a magical jewel. A necklace wich made khanzo a slave of emperors will.

It was a sucess. In some time thanx to his combat skills and his táctics they won a lot of chambers of the mountain where the dark horde had reclaimed

But Thaurissan forgot a detail: khanzo wasnt a ordinary orc. He is a blademaster. A true warrior strong in body and mind with a iron Will.

Time was passing and when khanzo had his will fully back he managed to scape from dark irons; and went back to.the dark horde forces. Jubei'Thos had to spare him because he was a honorable and fierce warrior and he need it.

Time passed. After some time Jubei'Thos and some of his forces (khanzo lead the Blackrock explorers) went to alterac mountains and built a demon Gate because they felt the burning legion's return. But the dark Prince Arthas and his endless undead forces defeated the orc forces.

Very few orcs returned to Blackrock mountain. There the treacherous son of blackhand, Rend, took control over the forces in Jubei'Thos absence.

Rend commanded his forces kill Khanzo, calling him traitor to his horde (because he was feared of khanzo's power and he dont want lose his position)

So khanzo managed to scape from Blackrock mountain and had to run away from aliance forces and dark horde too so he had to wander all.around the world. Hooded and selling his skills as mercenary

Time passed and he knew the new horde. The thrall's horde where he was well recived.

But khanzo dont forgot. He want his most hated enemies (the dark iron emperor and the dark horde warlord) dead.
And he want Bring back the power and the honor to his forgotten and corrupted clan; slaying rend and get the control over the old "dark horde" and making honorable again; and later cleaning blackrok mountain from the control of dark irons and other dark forces (like black dragonflight). A pretty hard task.

But he is old. And he is alone. So for complete his task he need power. He contact with some warlocks to regain his strenght. And he did it but He became a fel orc but thanxs to his discipline and strong spirit he is not corrupted and keep all his will
Art Gallery:
https://www.google.com/search?q=orc+bla ... CVM40o2yDM

[Razzz]

Name: Belinda Rosewither

Race: Forsaken (Human type)

Class: Priestess

Title: The Maggot Muncher

Nickname: Belle

Height: 5'5" ft

Weight/Build: 145 lbs / Thin and fleshy

Residence: Tarren Mill

Birthplace: Tirisfal Glades

Motto: "Are you going to finish that?"

Physical Description:

Belinda has no face, big hair, and smells like your grandmother's toes. Her voice is quiet and gentle, and seems to quiver ever so slightly whenever she speaks. She wears a lovely, long, lavender robe which is ruined by countless splotches of blood, dirt, and unspeakable messes. If one were to wonder where she keeps her adventuring supplies then worry not! Her tangled tower of dandruff doubles as five runecloth bags.

Brief History:

If any curious warrior of the Horde were to ask how old Belinda was when she died she'd simply giggle and tease, "I'm far too old for you, dearie, but I'm flattered! Teehee!" And if any humanoid folk with Alliance ties were to ask her the same then she'd murder them and devour their flesh starting with their face. That's it. That's her deal. Harmless grandmother type to the Horde, abominable nightmare to the Alliance. Besides flirting and slaughtering various denizens of Azeroth, she also hoards, well, EVERYTHING. Bones, jewels, fake jewels, murloc scales, poor quality equipment, rusty nails, and the world's saddest cat who should really be dead by now. Said hoard exists somewhere around Swamp of Sorrows. Not that it's worth looking for. Unless you want to save lil Mittens...

[Jolikmc]

Eh. I may as well toss my collection of characters onto this pinned topic. At the very least, it should give someone, somewhere, something to read for a bit, yeah?

Final (?) Edit II (05/25/2023)
Going forward, you can find a list of my roleplaying characters, past and present, and their profiles in this handy-dandy web page! You're welcome. (:

[Missbliss]

Evangelyne de LaCroix
===
5'2" 120 lbs Platinum Blonde hair and Blue eyes
===
[•Class•] Lvl 25 Paladin (hardcore)
===
[•Motto•]Psalm 23
===
[•Theme Music•]
===
[•Theme Music #2•]
===

[•Backstory•]

A young refugee from Lordaeron. No family or friends to speak of. She is known in Redridge for slaying many orcs, in Elwynn as a kind hearted soul amongst the people, and in Stormwind becoming renowned as a sellsword of the area. Her ambition is to return to Lordaeron to do battle with the enemies that took everything from her.

[•Appearance•]

Bright blue eyes and soft alabaster skin, she is the picture of angelic beauty. Evil creatures and non-humans feel the harsh sting of her paladin judgement when she looks upon them. She is a stalwart friend, and to her kin she radiates an aura of confidence, warmth, and positivity.

[Kefke]

Saw this and thought it would be fun to fill out, in case people see me around out there.

• Name: Aster Lansky

• Race: Human

• Class: Inventor (Rogue)

• Title: Esquire

• Nickname: Clockheart

• Height: 5' 7" (170cm)

• Weight/Build: 148 lbs. (67kg)* - Lean | *Weight includes mechanical prosthesis.

• Residence: Lion's Pride Inn

• Motto: "There's always another plan."

Physical Description:

• Aster is a lanky man with messy ginger hair and bright green eyes, square-jawed, and with angular features. He maintains a clean-shaven, youthful appearance, but is often disheveled and marked with travel grime. His pale skin is marked by faint scars left from burns and cuts received while working with machines, particularly on his hands. He wears a vest that has been reinforced with a protective layer, and a belt heavy with pouches of tools and mechanical parts. His clothes were once of high quality, but are now shabby and travel worn, showing signs of having been mended and patched several times.

Brief History:

• Aster is just one of many orphans in the war-torn history of Azeroth, but perhaps luckier than most. After several years in the orphanage, he was noticed by a wealthy couple who had come to visit for Children's Week. The pair, who had been unable to have children of their own, were impressed with his intelligence and precociousness, and chose to adopt him. They saw to it he received a proper education, planning to have him join his adoptive father's accounting business when he came of age.
  
  However, in meeting the firm's clients, he developed an obsession for gnomish and goblin engineering. He began to spend much of his free time tinkering and experimenting, trying to learn everything he could about the workings and operation of machines. His parents didn't fully approve of his hobby, but accepted it as an expression of his intelligence and creativity. That is, until he suffered a serious accident when he was sixteen years old. An explosion in his workshop drove a metal rod through Aster's chest, piercing his heart.
  
  By some miracle, he survived long enough to receive healing, but the heart could not be saved, necessitating replacement with a mechanical contrivance of gnomish invention. Afterward, his adoptive parents insisted that he give up on his inventions, leading to numerous arguments and conflicts, until he finally ran away from home. Since then, he has become a drifter, living out of inns, taking odd jobs to fund his research, and meeting with engineers from Ironforge to Gadgetzan to hone his craft.

Art Gallery:


(Art is a commission I got years ago. Artist is/was Lady Dragoness, but I have no idea their current contact info.)

[Luuk]

The Khanzo story is supercool

[Lizwieboo]

Violetqueer is a night elf huntress who took the vow of mortality a few weeks ago.

Before that time, she grew up in the forest of Ashenvale. A strange elf-kid with few friends and many ennemies as indeed, with the other elves, at best there was distance, at worst blows and insults. Why is it so ? She often thought. "Is it my body ? A little too tall for a she-elf, oddly androgynous for a reason I and them can't explain ?" And maybe it was, yet if you asked her teachers, they would say that it was instead her complete disregard for any tradition, any creed engraved in the roots of elven society which explained most the names all the others were giving her. Misfit. Weirdo. Queer.

So she wandered the woods of Ashenvale, in search of kindship outside of her race. She found it in a typical night elf way : nature. Animals became her friends, even moreso than with most of the other elves. She would spend nights talking with them, sharing some food with the birds and running with the deers. With kinship came a sense of balance, a feeling of belonging, and home.

Yet as time went by, the orc incursions inside the forest became more intense. Many of her animal friends died because of it, chased by peons or the occasional grunt. Later, other beings also came. Depraved, undead creatures, praying to dark gods and demons and in return receiving even darker powers. It was a moonless night, when green flames emanating from what was probably a warlock immolated the panther she befriended years ago, that she decided to leave her retreat and take action.

That day she decided to be called Violetqueer. Violet, to match her hair color, queer, in memory of the very insult that pushed her to leave the company of the other elves and find her home in the forest. To make a strength of it. Yet in the middle of another moonless night, she found that some mysterious power forbid her to ever say her name out loud.


This character has been name changed since because her name is apparently considered "sexual"
But i'm too lazy to change it in the BG ! Sorry !

[Juanana]

• Name: Ragoth Fiendrender

• Race: Orc

• Age: 63

• Class: Shaman - (Domain; Fire) - OOC: Mage

• Title: (formerly) Elder

• Height: 6'6 (bigger when younger, now really bent)

• Weight/Build: Ragoth is a muscular orc, even though his body became frailer and less brawny over the years.

• Residence: (Formerly: Ashenvale, Part of Warsong Offensive) Wandering the barrens

• Birthplace: "Home" (Draenor)

• Motto: "How can Thrall speak of peace when the warlocks still wander the world and our people starve to death in the desert?!"

• Physical Description:
  
  Ragoth's Body is covered in crudely aesthethic scar patterns. His left hand is deformed, the scars of broken bones and torn flesh can still be seen. You can easily realize that he is an orc of the shattered hand.
  His face and gaze are grim; bone-piercings are in his brows and on his forehead, leaving barely any wrinkles because of the overstretched skin. His facial hair, long and grey as it is, has singed tips. His usual smell is kind of smouldering and you could swear that somehow it becomes uncomfortably warm around him. The anger and fury burning inside him can quite literally be felt, but can also be seen in his red eyes, still teinted by the blood curse of decades back.
  Charred totems and bone carvings are dangling from his robe and his beard, little pots with blood-red ink (or is it blood?) are on his belt for markings and ritualistic purposes.

• Brief History:
  
  Ragoth was born on Draenor in enslavement. As many other clanless orcs that would later became the shattered hand, in one fateful night he broke his hand, crushed it so much that he could pull it through his chains and went on a rampage against their captures alongside his newfound clan.
  He never had an Om'riggor, nor a spritual, peaceful upbringing. Constant war against ogre tribes and the other, non-orcish races on Draenor were his day-to-day-life. Even though, he was attuned to the spirits and it did not take long until he was taken in to become a shaman. But not the spritiual guide like the frostwolf shamans were, no, no. Ragoth was a shaman focused on war, on sacrifice and destruction, constantly mentally wrestling with the spirits of those deceased in anger and disappointment, communing with the element of fire in a fight of fury who would dominate. He never forced his will unto the spirits, but his stubborn willpower and his inner rage fueled his handling of it.
  When the warlocks came and the village he lived in drank the blood of mannoroth, he was one of the first to take it. He never regretted the act itself; but after the ecstasy of the blood rush went down, he realized that his purpose of life, the inner conflict and inner fight with the angered spirits and the chaotic element of fire, was gone. Ragoth killed the warlocks, lynched them and took the vow of his village's orcs never to tell anyone.
  He himself refused to become a warlock. He was physically capable of being a warrior and so he was put in a auxiliary force, that was a hidden penal group because of their refusal of the legion's gift. Like basically every other orc, he partook in the genocide of the Draenei - something he even deems necessary today and has absolutely zero regrets for - as well as the first and second war. After the fall of the horde, his group was captured by humans in the Arathi Highlands. At first in the camp that would later become Hammerfell, he was about to be transferred to the Lordamere camp as they mistook him for a former warlock, but the Warsong clan raided the convoy he was in and freed him.
  From then on, he realized that the lethargy in the camp brought his attunement to the spirits back and he served as a war shaman, capable of only communing with the element of fire and guide for the spirit of those ancestors enraged by their fate. Warlocks in the outposts they had were killed by him, either in Mak'goras or poisoned, stabbes or otherwise.
  After Thrall's rise and the liberation of the orcs, he fought alongside the New Horde, even when he hated Thrall for his upbringing by the humans and his, later, peaceful ways. He detests Durotar as the new home of the orcs and refused to ever enter Orgrimmar until now since it is an insult to Orgrim Doomhammer himself.
  Ragoth still served with the Warsong clan until recently, fighting in Ashenvale against the guerilla attacks of the night elves, even though his approach to just "burn the damn forest down" was not exactly appreciated. His age begins to take a toll, though, and he ventures out to find someone he can pass his teachings on to - and to fight for the Horde in ways Thrall's bootlickers wouldn't realize. Oh, and of course search for warlocks and bring them down. Because warlocks are bastards!

[Liatris]

• Name: Savania Sunsworn

• Race: Quel'Dorei (High Elf)

• Class: Mage

• House Name: Sunsworn

• Title: Magistrix

• Nickname: Sav

• Height: 5' 7"

• Weight/Build: Lean, around 120 lbs. (54kg) at most.

• Residence: Stormwind City

• Birthplace: Quel'Thalas

• Motto: "The only way to answers is to take a chance."

Physical Description:

When it comes to first impressions, Sav is a bit of a wildcard. She is never without a wand or staff, and often dons light robes suitable for travel. She is also never without her signature jeweled headband and charm necklace, both of Thalassian design. The charm appears to be crafted in such a way that there may be another half, the owner of which is unknown to those outside her circle.
The way Sav carries herself will largely vary. Much of the time, she is seen with a calculating grace that reflects her status as a Quel'dorei Magistrix. However, this noble status is a double-edged sword as the sunwell's ruin left it's mark on her. Extended magic use is likely to mar her face with a gaunt appearance and have her act unpredictably, depending on the severity. Thankfully, she has been able to sate the resulting magical cravings with various magical items found in her travels, preventing her from completely succumbing to magic addiction and becoming wretched.

Brief History:

BEFORE THE THIRD WAR
Sav was born during a time of relative peace in Quel'Thalas. At some point before the first war, she revealed potential as a mage, accepting an apprenticeship at Falthrien Academy. After her training, she rose to the rank of an arcanist, and later, a Magistrix. She hoped for the opportunity to explore the world beyond Quel'Thalas, and become a Seeker of Wisdom. In pursuit of this path, Sav took great care in instructing not only High-Elven apprentices, but also the occasional non-elven apprentices during her trips to Dalaran. During the second war, Sav fought alongside her fellow mages against the Horde and Amani Trolls that threatened their city. With the High Elves victorious, she continued her duties as a Magistrix.

THE THIRD WAR
Inevitably serving in the third war, Sav was one of few survivors assigned to protect the elven runestones. As her fellow mages fell, she was later ordered to retreat to Silvermoon and tasked to assist potential evacuees. They survived by barricading themselves in one of Silvermoon's spires until the scourge reached the Sunwell.

AFTERMATH OF THE THIRD WAR
Seeing the damage to Quel'Thalas as near-irreversible, Sav decided to attempt a journey back to Dalaran in search of solutions towards fixing the scourge taint and the magic withdrawl her bretheren would inevitably suffer. Right as this journey began, she encountered a caravan heading south to Loch Modan with refugees. The humans guarding the caravan stated that most Lordaeron settlements, including Dalaran, were unhabitable. Travelling to Loch Modan would be her best bet to survival. Some she aided travelled with her, while others remained in Quel'Thalas and became Sin'dorei.

Currently, her goals involve relearning her magical talents without depending on the sunwell or another magical source. While meditation and weaning off magical objects has helped her stave off her dependency to some extent, she hopes to find an ethical cure.

[Aydea]

Fadrith

• Name: Fadrith

• Race: Human

• Class: Paladin

• House Name: Whats that

• Title: None

• Nickname: None

• Height:5'4

• Weight/Build: Well trained feminine but with obvious effects of carrying heavy armor, shield and a weapon around most of the day.

• Residence: None yet (previously Northshire Abbey)

• Birthplace: Stranglethorn Vale

• Motto:
  "Shortcuts, man. They do things to you ..."
  "What do you mean "detect undead"? I can follow the smell just fine ... "
  "Corruption comes in many forms. The spell by the same name is just one of them ..."
  
  "The Light isn't what holds this world together. Just like corruption, what we call "Light" is just a fruit of a decision of the heart. Like the fruits of stranglethorn vale, the fruit poisons or nourishes but the trees bring the fruit. They make the jungle what it is. Similarly, corruption and the light are the fruit, the hearts are the trees and like the trees of stranglethorn vale make up the great jungle, our hearts make up our togetherness."

Personality and Description:

• A southlander, Fadrith is typically relaxed and easy going. Devoted, loyal and faithful she learned to be fair in her judgements and critical in her thinking. Forward thinking and responsible, she likes to coordinate efforts and make informed and estimated decisions on how and when to use her resources. Just like you wouldn't go out exercising in the heat of mid day in the jungles.
  
  She makes an excellent team leader but struggles when alone since she only has two hands to work with and being responsible, forward thinking and well coordinated won't mine any ore for you. Her relaxed attitude also frequently causes friction with other paladins and paladines with much stricter attitudes although usually a common enemy in fighting corruption is enough to overcome said friction.
  
  Despite having grown up in the harsh and often hostile jungles of stranglethorn vale, Fadrith retained a kindness to her that has aided her many times on missions of mercy and when the kind and merciful side of a paladine was needed. All the same the harshness of these same jungles can be observed in that same sun tanned female when she does not flinch before going into battle be it against a foe or against corruption itself.

Brief History:

• The kingdom of Stormwind may be the last bastion of humanity but sometimes humans can be found in other regions though usually in sparse populations. Stranglethorn Vale is one such region a hot and hotly contested region where people of all races and kinds intermingle doing business or battle. And some simply live there. Fadrith is one such human.
  
  Having grown up and accustomed to the rhythm and life of stranglethorn vale, it was not easy to leave it behind to travel all the way north (from stranglethorn vale) to the kingdom of stormwind to start her studies and go to school in Northshire Abbey. As a result Fadrith couldn't help but notice how different life and people also were so far north from her home. From her perspective everyone was so strict and tense and they worked during the midday. Granted there wasn't any heat and humidity to prevent them either, so there is that.
  
  The difference in culture was notable but at the end of the day humans are humans and especially aspiring paladins were welcomed with open arms regardless where they were from. Fadrith studied and graduated so in Northshire Abbey before setting out to start her service as a human paladine. Initially, she was a little bit undecided whether she should go this route or maybe find a northern man for herself but in the end she chose the former. On one occasion, she browsed the tailor shops for gowns and dresses, however, once more contemplating whether she had made the right choice. She met Aydea, an aspiring tailor at that time, and ended up speaking with her and telling her about her quest.
  
  That quest seemed to align with Aydea, from a different angle however, but she welcomed Aydea to work with her and from that day on continued speaking with her every now and then. More people joined her cause and eventually, Fadrith decided to formalize the group in the form of a guild.

Art Gallery:

• [A list of art pieces or screenshots if applicable*]

Aydea

• Name: Aydea

• Race: Human

• Class: Mage

• House Name: None

• Title: None

• Nickname: None

• Height: 5'3

• Weight/Build: Delicate, light weight like someone who spends a lot of time researching and reading.

• Residence: Stormwind

• Birthplace: Forest of Elwynn

• Motto:
  "Re-search. Its literally in the name. Search again."
  "Do not fear, understand instead. Search for understanding."
  "I don't fear warlocks or demonology or corruption. I just don't want anything to do with it."
  "When you enchant an item, you don't attune magic to the item, you attune the item to the magic of the nether."
  "They say what comes out of you shows what is within you. That is just as true for magic as it for words."

Personality and Description:

• Thoughtful and studious, Aydea often looks like she is zoned out wondering about the universe, the nether or what is beyond and her eyes reflect that quality. Aydea's eyes have a clarity to them that has unsettled just as many people who did not wish to be seen as it has caused people to feel resonant and comforted who wanted to be seen. And while an intimate experience some mistook it for an intimate intent and were then confused when no such intent radiated from the slender woman in long robes.
  
  That naturally lead to Aydea seeking a quiet life away from people, a researcher in the making. A studious heart striving not so much for knowledge but understanding, knowledge being just a by product, like the dust is a byproduct from disenchanting items for essences. It makes sense that a person such as her, instead of browsing the no doubt beautiful and lovely dresses of the tailors in the city would go as far as to learn the craft herself to fashion her own. Tailored ... literally ... to her personality. The definition of eccentricity.
  
  With understanding comes knowledge and with knowledge comes power and with power comes responsibility. As a result Aydea is perhaps as much if not more so than Fadrith, a responsible individual. Though unlike Fadrith, her strength is not in her arms or legs, but instead in her heart and mind, her personality and her integrity. A living example of the phrase that nothing is gentler than true strength and nothing stronger than true gentleness.

Brief History:

• Aydea is an unremarkable human among those left in the last bastion of humanity. She was born in Elwynn Forest, went to school and graduated when she did before setting out on her own to get away from people and to seek and find understanding and insight. Her studies naturally lead her to studying magic and studying magic naturally caused her to develop a certain eccentricity.
  
  Having an interest in combating corruption but from a different angle, she naturally joined forces with Fadrith at some point working together on their common goal as a tailor and enchantress.

Art Gallery:

• [A list of art pieces or screenshots if applicable*]

Aylia

• Name: Aylia

• Race: Human

• Class: Mage

• House Name: None

• Title: None

• Nickname: None

• Height: 5'2

• Weight/Build: Slender, swerve and fragile.

• Residence: Stormwind

• Birthplace: Forest of Elwynn

• Motto:
  "Plants have feelings too, you know?"
  "Don't take more from a plant than you need. Always leave more than enough to regrow."
  "Never lick plant you don't know. Always sniff first ... and wash it beforehand."
  "Everyone has a place in nature, you do also."

Personality and Description:

• Gentle and kind, Aylia treats plants, leaves and flowers like she treats everyone else, as if they were part of nature and had feelings just like everyone does. And while everyone is indisputably part of nature, not everyone would agree on whether plants feel like people do. Never the less, this eccentricity is perhaps a natural result of her studies in magic which she started on the side while she was actually studying herbalism and then, as the natural next step, alchemy. She wondered how alchemy worked and that naturally lead to the path of studying magic.
  
  Aylia's tendency to relate to and empathize with everyone (and everything) naturally caused her to be a bit of an eccentric person viewed much like many other alchemists ...
  
  Person: "So, what do you do for a living, girl?"
  Aylia: "Herbalism and alchemy. And a little magic."
  Person: "Oh ..."
  
  Needless to say mages have a reputation and alchemists have a reputation. Aylia ... is both and heartedly so. She laments the state of nature and the corruption visible not only in plants but even in people. One of her goals is to find a way to brew a potion or a cure to clear corruption, maybe one day she will find a recipe or a potion that can do so. However, as of yet, she wondered whether or not what corruption can be seen and maybe even cured isn't maybe just a symptom of a cause much deeper in nature, much closer to the core of all life as we know it.

Brief History:

• Aylia, much like Aydea and many other mages, is an unremarkable human who was born in Elwynn Forest, the last bastion of humanity, went to school and graduated in Northshire Abbey. Even during her studies she always had an eye for nature, stopped to admire butterflies and sometimes literally just sat somewhere and watched the grass grow. Of course, she didn't actually see it grow but she knew it would even though she could not see it. She always knew to tell apart the various plants, trees and animals and delighted many a student with interesting and curious facts about them.
  
  Unfortunately, not many had much tolerance or understanding for her heartfelt attitude of kindness, gentleness and empathy and as a result her craft was welcome but her attitude less so. Especially with the dire situation that the entire human race found itself in being down to just a single bastion in the entirety of the world of Azeroth.
  
  As a result, she spends most of her time on her own and in nature having to frequently bring her flowing mage robes to repair with a tailor. One such tailor is Aydea who told her about her work with Fadrith and her own research and studies about combating corruption. As this aligned with her own goals Aylia eventually joined forces with Aydea and Fadrith and now travels the world with them contributing to the team as an herbalist and alchemist.

Art Gallery:

• [A list of art pieces or screenshots if applicable*]