Ivy

Information

Player: MoonlightBlossom

Character Full Name: Isabella Marie Killinger

Character In-Game Name: Ivy

Nickname(s): None, as of current.

Association(s): The Lodestone Company

Race: Human

Class: Warrioress

Age: 29

Sex: Female

Hair: Short, cropped black hair

Eyes: Brown

Weight: 135 lbs.

Height: 5'9"

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Appearance

The warrioress carries herself in a series of expertly-crafted armaments; fine-tempered segments of chain are buckled to her toned figure - her body long-accustomed to the weight and encumberment that chainmail brings; although her chainmail isn't without its share of dents, dings and welts. Her boots are always muddy; and what exposure comes of her form between the segments of armor, display a visage of scabbing cuts, wounds, and gashes. There is nothing striking about her as far as her apparel goes - far favoring utility over aesthetics.

Other: The only aspect of her attire that might catch one's eye; if it isn't the sizely sword slung over her back, it is the the small ornament that hangs around her neck upon a fine chain. The small ornament is shaped as a hammer; and the very steel that it was forged with, holds a very sooty hue upon it.

Personality

Blunt, gruff, and to the point; Isabella is your quintessential warrioress. When she isn't drinking, fighting, or conversing with others amidst her amusements - she is practicing with the blades, in determination to quell her weaknesses in battle. She is a woman who doesn't place emphasis on money, fame, or grandeur - she lives solely for the fight itself, and the thrills and epiphanies that arise in tow, regardless how skewed they may be. Ultimately, she believes in the greater good for the Alliance, and the loyalties that arise with it. While the world has weighed on her, it has developed a deeply-rooted sense of cynicism in her being. While she is not a sinner, and by no means a saint; Ivy is very much your average woman that has merely grown in adaptation to circumstance and opportunity.

History

It was the end of dusk as the ship sailed in the young, raining night. Moon high upon the ninth hour and eclipsed by the blanket of clouds, the Lady Scarlet broke wake as the frigate sailed towards the mainland of the Eastern Kingdoms. On deck, the bustling of thirty crew manned the ship; they've been sailing for days. The salty smell permeated the air; the deck slickened from the rain as the old wood swelled and creaked beneath the shuffling of feet - and the woman held the thick rope tightly; taut within her grasp as the frigate leaned with the winds and waves crashing abroad. "We're coming about; port-side!" The voice bellowed above, supervising the filthy, sweating crew that toiled as the mast lightly bowed, the flapping of the sails guiding the frigate towards its course. She could see it in the misted distance; as the Lady Scarlet sailed towards Longshore.

The anchor dug into the sandy beach-head; the laughing and bustling of its crew rowdily drew way onto the land. The world shifted beneath the woman's feet as she broke land amongst the rest of the men; it feels like it had been an eternity that she wasn't at sea; but at last, landlocked and home; she hoisted the small linen sack over her shoulder, and plodded up the slope. The ship and the small crowd of her shipmates growing further into the distance as she trudged forward, her mind running rampant with thought. Her tattered clothing stuck to her figure in the rain; the smell of salt and dead seaweed carrying in her wake as she carried herself towards the looming tower of Sentinel Hill in the distance - to be upon Alliance soil once again.

She still carried bruises and scabbing cuts from those last few nights upon the Isle; her dark lips held the faintest of grins as she thought back to that for a fleeting instant. By the dawn, she will have arrived in Goldshire, she thought - and from there, perhaps the militia will have something of her, provided that she may find any familiar faces since she initially left for Kalimdor...