Chambers
Information
Contents
Player: rentreality
Character Full Name: Lucerne Elizabeth Chambers
Character In-Game Name: Chambers
Nickname(s): None
Association(s): The Forsaken, The Forsaken Defilers
Race: Forsaken
Class: Mage
Age: 23 (30, counting time spent undead)
Sex: Female
Hair: Black
Eyes: Luminous
Weight: 93 lbs
Height: 5'0"
Appearance
She wears a sleeveless riding habit, and formal gloves that reach the middle of her upper arm. Drachms of arcane powder, suspended in etched crystal vials, hang from a bracelet on her left wrist.
Other: The circumstances of her death have left her unable to speak in anything but a whisper or an uncontrolled scream.
Personality
Lucerne Chambers can accurately be described with a number of words (sharp, scheming, diabolical, quick, vicious, wicked, and downright evil) but none would be entirely accurate alone, and a shorter route to the truth would be to examine the details of her favorite vice: her blatant, open desire for power, and the way she offers no apologies for it.
This hunger for power has developed into a haughty distance. She is cuttingly short-tempered and dismissive toward individuals who fail to impress her -- a classification that includes the better part of all sentient races. Her grudging respect can be earned; it is a long road to travel, but the rewards in shared knowledge and arcane energies could well be worth the effort.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
History
Lucerne Elizabeth Chambers came into this life at the cost of another -- her mother's. As the only child to bless the household of her father, a shipping magnate on the cold shores of northern Lordaeron, she was privileged, perhaps, by a questionable boon of wealth, and the social status that comes naturally with it. The young girl lacked nothing that money could buy; her mind flourished under the education of private tutors even as her budding magical talents were groomed by the finest minds available. What her life was missing, however, was the love of her father.
A distant, cold man at the best of times, with a mind more dedicated to numbers than the emotional needs of a growing daughter, his thoughts were consumed with his inability to father a son to act as his heir, and the financial ruin that Lucerne's inevitable marriage dowry would wreak upon him. In short, her birth alone was a sin that her father would never be able to forgive. This distance, and the emotional havoc it wrought on her through her formative years, forged the girl's psyche and personality into a tower of self-reliance.
His purse strings were seldom closed to her, however, and the dark anger in his mind only grew as the expenses of her now burgeoning education -- a bid to attract a family rich enough to make up the losses from her marriage -- exploded to new heights. A formidable power had grown in Lucerne as the years sped by -- a connection, if you will, to the primal, shaping powers of the world, to the arcane energies permeating the very air she breathed after the explosion of the Well of Eternity eons in the past. The powers gifted to the humans by the Elves, so many years ago, had taken root, and the feeling of the sheer power coursing through her body lit a fire within her bosom that could only be matched by one other energy: that of love.
It was this love that blossomed in her young heart that was her undoing. As her father's business faced a massive trade deficit that had blossomed in the wake of a number of unexplained incidents involving a loss of communication with several rural trade centers, a fashionable young man came calling, his retinue trailing in his wake. He was, he explained to her father with a curious little smile, a man of some growing power and influence -- a man whose political influences and formidable wealth would be a valuable ace card.
It was when they were alone that the man smiled at her -- a smile that made her stomach knot, a smile that no man had ever given her before in her sheltered, young life. His northern accent was deliciously exotic as he spoke to her in his rough undertones, telling her of the glorious, giddy power which waited for a girl of her talents and skills. He whispered to her tales of the prestige that would greet her magical abilities in his kingdom of equality.
Her shiver at his words delighted him, as did the small gasp she let slip when the ornamental, unholy knife cut so easily through the soft, pale skin at her throat. He caught her as she fell, and carried the limp body easily as his retinue of cultists of the Damned closed around him. That same smile played over his lips -- after all, his master would be pleased at the newest addition to the flock.
His visage was still twisted with that exotic grin years later when the arcane fires consumed him; he smiled -- smiled as his flesh roared away in a burst of burning fat; smiled as his ribs cracked and splintered, blackened from the heat of the fiery barrage; smiled as the newly Forsaken girl he had struck down years before unleashed her full arcane powers on him in retribution.
