Kalai

Player: Aruk

Character Full Name: Kalai

Character In-Game Name: Kalai

Nickname(s): None.

Association(s): The Exodar, The Aldor (formerly)

Race: Draenei

Class: Warrior

Skills and Abilities:

- Martial Proficiency: Kalai is proficient and easily wields blunt weaponry

- Ambidexterity: Kalai is able to dual-wield, and use either left or right hand when wielding weaponry or shields. Preffers mainly the left hand.

- Juggernaut: Kalai has honed her strength and endurance oppressively for centuries; she can deliver a damn good punch, and can take twice as many more.

Age: Nearing her tenth millennium; 10, 000.

Sex: Female

Hair: Black

Eye: Luminous pearl

Weight: 297 lbs.; 140 kg

Height: 7'7"; 2.34 cm

Usual Garments/Armor: Nothing worth of note.

Other:

http://i.imgur.com/HPhrvkF.jpg *

Kalai is completely blind on her right eye (to be more precise, she doesn’t have a right eye) and the muscle structure on that side seems badly damaged - some facial expressions seem only half completed, such as smiling, frowning etc.

As of recently, the a large chunk of her left horn is missing, substituted by a metal filing made of adamantium. Half her tail is missing, ending in a rather messy stub that remains hidden by a metal cover.

Kalai seems obsessed with her stature; she painstakingly follows her routine of training, bathing and meditation to the letter and second. She's been known to get quite cranky and rather confused if she misses any of the three.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Personality:

A blatantly sardonic, and dry humored woman. Stubborn as a mule that one, and you can’t help but wonder how she passes through doors with her pride. She apparently has no manners either, refusing to greet or even converse at times…if she even stays in company long enough to converse - It's a mask of sorts to hide her growing paranoia and fear. She’s afraid of losing what’s left of her family and her friends, but most of all – herself. Kalai never quite managed to cope with the last ten thousand years of her life; as time went on her life seemingly got worse and worse, and as that changed so did her mind.

She continuously questioned and re-questioned the ideals of Good set by the Naaru, as she never truly understood them. One cannot really imagine how, in such conditions, were mercy, kindness, and a gentle hand and heart necessary in a world which seemed dead-set on killing off what was left of her kind. She neither understood the need for forgiveness and humbleness when all she knew was fear, death and pain for a very, very long time. The prayers and words of the Anchorites and Paladins were heard, but never truly.

Even now, Kalai never completely accepted the Words of the Naaru. She understands honor, loyalty and faith, but fails at times to comprehend mercy and kindness. More so then not, she struggles with her self, hoping to find some harmony – to no longer be held back by an old life of mostly bad memories, but to move on and enjoy this new life on a new world. But however lost, she adheres to a strict code of conduct, both military and moral, which in turn have saved her far too many times then she bothers to count.

Recently, she's turned even more somber and brooding, becoming quite the misanthrope and turning more and more prone to fits of long lasting melancholia.

History:

The General Outline

Kalai was brought to a generic fantasy world almost ten thousand years ago to a mother Anchorite, and a father toy maker/jeweler. She had no siblings, part the few oddball friends she made growing up. Early on in her life, she expressed an interest in melee combat, showing potential and a combative (within draenic limits) nature. Soon as she got the chance, she followed the warriors path, which included incredibly bland guard duties in Osh’Gun. Mostly.

The Rest of the (relevant) Story

Like with any Draenei, Kalai spent the entirety of her life on Osh’Gun. The first few decades and centuries are a bit of a blur to her; she remembers herself to be an easily frightened child, always huddling to her mother whenever something happened.All she does truly remember is the growing fear of death and demons, that quickly turned into a burning hatred. But that is mostly generic history; the fun part starts with the orcs on Draenor.

Kalai received some of her bad streaks here, but most were augmented. She grew quite prideful of her battle prowess, endurance and strength, yet always ignoring the words of her kin that such matters were second to spirit. Kalai refused to believe that spirit had saved them for this long a time. She admit the Naaru were always there, and that their Light would never fade for her, or her kin. But the Naaru did not fight for them. Even the Paladin had to master martial abilities as well as spiritual ones. How could they possibly be second, as she’d always argue, as so many of us wield the hammer and the shield better then we do the arcane or the holy. These matters slowly ate her from the inside and would in the following battles align to something she refused to admit to herself; fear.

The Orcs to her were simple, primitive yet very curious creatures. The brown hide that covered the strong frames, their simple tribal life, the daily hunts and gatherings; all this intrigued her as it was such a strong contrast to the cultured lives of the Draenei (glorious pride). But, something happened to these creatures very soon. They changed from simple tribals into monstrosities of rage and burning bloodlust – fear snuck into Kalai’s heart soon. Will the combined strengths of the Draenei be enough to hold back these creatures?

The bloody carnage and slaughter began with little notice. The Horde, filled with a hunger and rage stormed down on Draenic settlements like a tidal wave, and soon it became apparent; their newfound power, strength and zeal for slaughter. The Legion had their hand in this. As she watched the events come to pass, she truly questioned the power of the Naaru, and the Draenei. The Demons alone were a problem but this…this frightened her to the very core. She wondered how the Draenei would get out of this one.

Kalai volunteered herself to any settlement or post that required additional arms; It became apparent this was no time for pride or prejudice, nor the time for contemplation. It turned into a full on fight for survival and she had every intention of showing it to the Orcs and allies; For the most, she frightened herself and her comrades with her ferocity and brutality against the opponent. But what concerned her the most were the excuses she’d tell herself after the battles. At the time they made sense. But at that time, mostly anything made sense that’d force you to get up in the morning and take another look at the carnage behind you.

(…)

The Exiles were getting annihilated very quickly. There were some outposts left, but they were few and far in between. Pleas of comrades had to be ignored, as supplies were low as it was. Those remote outposts fell quickly and those that managed to survive were to beaten and tired to be useless in any farther efforts. Kalai was stranded in one such outpost - food was low, morale was low, and most of their palisade was repaired with corpses of Orcs and Draenei alike; no matter where you looked it was always the same; bloodied fields, and the brave few from both sides who ventured forth to pick up the corpses of the fallen…but there were still to many of the dead to pick up. Cries of the wounded echoed out for help, but they fell on deaf ears. That tiny outpost couldn’t hold the ten or so left living soldiers in it, let alone wounded and dying. The commander was struck down and command fell to two of the most experienced soldiers that were at the position; Kalai and an aged paladin. With them were an anchorite and several young conscripts who could barely hold their weapons, and the paladin’s apprentice. The paladins knee was shattered making him useless for the most part; the Anchorite had her hands full with the conscripts who had more injuries on them then hair on their heads, and the Apprentice was frantically trying to help the Anchorite. Kalai was in no better shape; an explosion sent shrapnel into her, badly damaging the eye and leaving any unarmored parts of her with bleeding wounds, and a well placed orcish maul damaged her sword-arm, leaving her to fight with the left hand; she was just as useless as the rest of the lot.

(…)

The savages struck as the light was fading in the shattered land – scavengers looking for anything worth carrying back to their forts. The party, band to be more precise, were no more then two riding on the backs of their worgs. Thankfully neither rider nor mount were quiet and discreet creatures; the growls and snarls gave the invaders away, and enough time for the few survivors to take cower, and pray they won’t be found. It wasn’t a bad plan; the overpowering stench of death and blood around them dulled the worgs scent, and the orcs were far to busy destroying what was left of the outpost and palisade to notice anything. One Orc ventured too close to Kalai – she prepared her blade to slit it’s throat from ear to ear, even feeling a small smile crawl across her lip. She reveled in every moment of bitter-sweet revenge she could get on the Orcs. But the problem was within one of the younger comrades. A worg found the corpse…a corpse as it was hard to discern by this time, appealing and had a short lunch break – this did not rest well with the young conscript that managed to stay hidden so far; her whimpering alerted the beast, and it decided a fresh meal was far better then a carcass.

The screams and pleas for help coming from the young warrior stunned Kalai; she lost her balance and tumbled down from her hiding spot onto the floor. Both Draenei and Orc were stunned for a few moments – neither knew what happened or how it happened, but it quickly became personal; the orc raised his massive palm to his throat finally realizing what almost happened. It bellowed in rage spouting naaru know only what in it’s native language. And Kalai? It finally got to her thick skull just how deep she was in this. One on one with a young orc in his infuriated prime, and her beaten worn and wounded.

The first few lunges she barely avoided scrambling, and crawling along the broken floor of the outpost. The orc relentlessly smashed around her with the unwieldy maul - It gave her enough time to try and make a run for it, which did not make her opponent happy; he dropped the maul and gave chase quickly catching up to the wounded Kalai. She plummet to the ground with a heavy and painful thud. Taking the initative she slashed at the orcs throat as he took his time contemplating on what to do next with a very perverted, black toothed grin. The savage looked on in shock as the blood trickled down the gaping wound in a disguisting black ooze; but his would be last, and on the last strengths as Kalai reveled in her victory with a proud grin her opponent jabbed clawed fingers into her eye socket, gouging the eye out; black and blue blood mixed and trickled together; the only sounds Kalai’s agonizing wail, and the orcs gargling until it dropped lifeless.

From that point on, all she remembers is the putrid taste of blood, a hazy vision of her kin removing the lifeless lump of orc off her, and rushing to the infirmary – when she finally came to, something was quite different. There were no screams, no sounds of battle, no war drums, no howling, and no commanding…but chirping birds.

…birds?

'Birds chirping?' the first thought that ran through her mind. She opened her eyes quickly and through a haze saw...a hole in the wall that was not there before. She was quite sure of that. And she was quite sure of not being surrounded by this many dying back in the infirmary when they brought her back. But she did.

It came back rather slowly. She remembered the rushing healers and aids to get the wounded to safety. She remembered the shaking ship and the explosion, the panicked screams and wails of pain and agony.

(...)

Her legs were still shaky, and a crust filled, quickly-bandaged palm rose up to rub her eyes; a painful whine was all she could smother out on the touch - she forgot about the eye. Kalai spent a few silent moments remembering the scene...the pain was real but everything just felt like a very bad dream. She shook it off, forcibly forgetting about everything that came to pass up until now, and rose her tired eye to the new landscape.

Shards of the ship they boarded were scattered everywhere - the azure landscape would have been beautiful were it not for the destruction and carnage. As the world started to spin again, Kalai decided to call it a day. Again.

Wherever they were, and whatever is going on won't got away during the next few days she'll be happily sleeping it off after a long time of insomnia. Now if only the dying would pipe it down a bit.

(Picture, though tiny and somewhat useless is still mine. Please be considerate enough not to use it without permission.)