Faedea

Information

Player: Krilari

Character Full Name: Faedea Bloodscry

Character In-Game Name: Faedea

Nickname(s): ‘Magistrix’

Association(s): Silvermoon City

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Warlock

Age: 1,672

Sex: Female

Hair: A thick, curled mane of blonde color.

Eyes: Fel Green

Scale/Height: 1.1 Scale

Weight: 174 Lbs.

Appearance

Vain and voluptuous, decedent and socially desirable, Faedea keeps a close eye on her figure and has for the many years of her life. Pale skin sits loose upon an hourglass figure, the flesh beginning to sag thanks to the plight of age. Despite such the woman put much a focus upon pampering form, happily introducing whatever cosmetics will extend at last her exterior’s youth. Topped upon a merry, beaming visage is a mane of blonde locks that have managed to remain thick and firm through the magus’ later years.

Atop of Faedea’s figure sits regalia that is nothing short of fitting for a woman of her elegance. Patterns of scarlet curls and gold trim sit over a canvas of dark silk. Upon each shoulder sits a spaulder of scarlet that keeps a cloak firm over her person, unwavering under her common gestures. The final, most notable article that the Blood Mage keeps close is a trio of small verdant orbs floating overhead.

Personality

It’s been said that Faedea lives for the blush, and for what she shows that statement would hold true. Most of her common speech easily comes off as flirtatious or praising, cheerful no matter the person is an utter stranger or a close friend. Alas, her public image is nothing more than a façade. Only a handful has seen the mage’s authentic worries.

Behind the kind curl of her eyes and the bright smiles of her cherry lips, Faedea struggles with the inevitable flaw of mortality. For nearly two thousand years she’s strived and succeeded, and fears to see it all reduced to dust, as her heart grows tired. As her judgment day ever so slowly nears she’s developed a near fatalist attitude. Whatever life she has within herself is best spent improving the life of her people, even if it eventually leads to her own undoing.

History

A servant Faedea was born and a servant Faedea will die. The only child of the Bloodscry heritage was born some eons ago, an accidental blessing upon a wishing couple that prior were thought to be infertile. The world she was born to was pampered and delicate, though not by the means of her own family. The Bloodscry name was nothing of nobility but instead servitude, bound to the ever-regal House Al’shar by both business and kind relations. For ages prior the Bloodscry Family served as the most chief of servants, some even being trusted with secrets of the house not even spared to the unwanted heirs. In their odd relationship, wine ran thicker than blood. A kind gesture between the families, Faedea was not born in a shack or upon the back of a wagon, but instead within the finest quarters Silvermoon gold could buy.

Lucky for the lonesome girl, she was not born alone in some sense. While her mother would bear only one child, the Al’shar family kept a diverse collection of heirs, one such being the young son Anean. For the years of their childhood Faedea was regarded not as a servant, but as a friend, a simple playdate for the young heir of the house, however from there onward the two would be nearly inseparable. By twenty years of age she would be Anean’s personal servant, by fifty years his personal guard, and by the time adulthood struck she was a companion tasked never to part from the young lord. It would be with him that she visited the immaculate spires of Dalaran and realized the vast expanse that is the Arcane. Where it’s sized daunted the young lord it instead excited her, invigorated her.

Unfortunately for the excitable young Faedea, they would soon part from the gilded city in order to return for a more ‘proper’ schooling in Silvermoon under the city’s extensive Magistry, and there life itself appeared to freeze. Ages drifted by with little to speak of. A new spell here, an interesting boy or girlfriend there, but the eons left much to be desired as she wiltered away alongside her life-long charge.

It would be with misfortune that she found respite from drull studies. In the midst of his ever-dutiful servitude to the house Faedea’s father was struck with illness of the heart. Try as magic and medicine may have there was nothing to save the man. He was buried with his predecessors upon the Al’shar estate. For a time the Bloodscry girl was inconsolable even by her own mother, who was plagued with just as much an emotional ache. A brief distraction would come from the ever-cold Anean, the boy she had been watching over since birth. He offered a hand to hold, a familiar face to greet, warm skin to touch. The affair was brief, yet passionate. In the end, however, it would be but a distraction that was easy to dismiss. Mixed emotions, disapproving parents, and blurring duties made the two part from their romantic intents in order to resume the normal, dull life of study.

Sadly Faedea’s father would be but the first in a lengthy line of deaths that climaxed in the passing of the Al’shar Patron by the unfortunate means of choking on a fishbone. By right of blood the heirship passed from one brother to another and Anean’s incompetent father now sat upon the house’s throne- much to everyone’s dismay. As duty urged Anean to tend to his father, beside his eldest sister Piroska, it brought him further from Feadea. She was no longer bound to his side, and was instead left to freely study while she maintained her duties as a house magi, that is, until she was charged as the estate’s Captain of the Guard. Just as quickly as she was pushed away she was whisked back into the madness of politics. She was expected to attend ceremonies, study in the delicacies of etiquette, learn of every nobleman, woman and child that lived in the city and so much more. Beyond all else, she was expected to fight. When the Scourge marched upon Quel’thalas, Faedea marched against them.

Equipped with a small regiment of magi and warriors bearing the Al’shar banners draped over their arms, Faedea marched to join the army that stood resilient against the oncoming plague. Fools they were. In masses they fell, fresh corpses to fuel the war machine that orchestrated the destruction of Silvermoon. Quickly enough the army had turned on itself and the gates of Silvermoon had fallen. The inexperienced captain was lucky to escape with little more than a handful of her house’s own. The pain of her failure was paltry before the fall of the Sunwell. With the magic spent and destroyed- along with the city of Silvermoon- the pains of magical addiction were quick to plague the self-declared Children of Blood. House Al’shar, eager to regain power, sent their captain out once again. This time to look for some form of respite from their addiction

As blind and faithful as ever the aged woman marched with her prince through the Outlands, following as he chased the notion of sating the eternal magical hunger. There would be no respite, as Illidan revealed, but there was a source. An eternal source. As easily as one drew breath she began to draw upon the power of demons from the desolate Outlands. It wasn’t long before many began to study the magical source. While some took to enslaving demons Faedea was not tempted by such a risky prospect. Instead she studied a new, more curious vein. Her mastery of the Arcane was already evident in her skilled manipulation of fire, and the addition of fel only helped the flames burn brighter. She along with many of her Magistrate colleagues studied into the ways of the Blood Mage, enhancing their previous knowledge of the arcane with the raw power of fel. The combination was delightfully deadly to those who dared to stand in their way.

After a few decisive victories over the likes of Maiev and demons all alike Kael’thas returned to Azeroth with Vashj, Illidan and a fair amount of the elven forces, however a few select were left in the Outlands. It was then when questions began to arise. A few followers began to notice the greed in their prince’s gaze, they noticed how willingly he bowed to the masters of the Burning Legion. While it was difficult for the woman to admit, she had grown caution of her prince just as well. When his lust for power was at it’s peak Faedea splintered off along with a great many more of her colleagues. The Scryers, as they were named, took refuge in Shattrath away from the lusts of their crazed prince and there, with heavy heart, Faedea worked to undo all of the work she had once set in place.

It would be much to her surprise that she was met with a hero’s welcome upon her return to Silvermoon City, but even such a warm embrace was bittersweet. Half of her city was in ruins, her friends and family deceased, and her body was permanently cursed to bear the burden of demonic power. She was old, now, and tired. With sorrow she withdrew from the duties of Captain of the Guard. She was content to remain estranged and under the simple title of ‘Servant’, but Anean would not have it. While she did not realize at first, her younger Lord had become much a man in her absence. He grew from his quiet and cold shell, instead taking on a mirthful insanity, almost. When he arrived on her stoop one day she was taken back, but not nearly as much compared to when he would grant her a leave of service. She was no longer lesser, but equal in his eyes.

That was the fall of one responsibility and the rise of another. Faedea had relinquished of all her titles of the house, leaving only one of her own- Bloodmage. The wealth of her long life had left little in monetary woes but there was a longing to work constantly itching in the back of her mind. She had tried to rest., she had tried to relax, yet it simply would not be. Not even a month had passed before she enlisted in the ranks of the magistry. Merrily she buried herself beneath piles of paperwork with the occasional public showing of force or grace to assure the public though with the passing of one trouble another arose, or so it seemed to be. The panic of the Outlands gave away to the panic of Northrend. Orgrimmar and Stormwind were put under sudden siege by the Scourge, though by the time any organized reinforcements could arrive the undead were already dismissed.

Once more Faedea ventured into the fray, though this time she was bundled far warmer than her trip to the Outland. First in Warsong Hold, later in Dalaran, and even further so in Icecrown she served no longer for her people, but for the Horde. It wasn’t until victory resounded in a roaring cry across the canyons of the frozen north that Faedea came to realize just how exhausted she had become. Age was catching up and she could no longer afford to preserve the warrior’s pride she had adopted. Nested back in Silvermoon the Bloodmage had taken a respite from the warfare of the world, preferring to oversee the wellness of her own people not only as a responsibility of the Magistry, but as a personal interest in the future of Quel’Thalas.

Skills and Abilities

The Blood of My People – Faedea was amongst the first of her kin to embrace the dark magics of the demons when the Scourge brought tragedy to Silvermoon. She makes common use of all things unique to her practice- Verdant Spheres, a mastery of fire magic, and the iconic ability to summon a phoenix to fight at her side for a short time.

Worship of the Corrupted – Despite her utilization of darker magics she is revered as a Bloodmage- a hero -much like the rest who follow her practice.