Kireyna

Information

Player: Ukarai

Character Full Name: Kireyna Ebonheart

Character In-Game Name: Kireyna

Nickname(s): Ky

Association(s): The Ebonheart Estate

Race: Human

Class: Assassin

Age: 26

Sex: Female

Hair: Black

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 131 lbs.

Height: 5'6"

Appearance

She's bears a lithe, athletic build, thinner than the model would suggest.

Two black sheathes are strapped to each thigh, both in and out of her armor, containing identical razor-sharp daggers with tempered steel blades.

Kireyna's custom-fit leather armor is roguish in appearance, dyed in dark blacks and grays. It's lined with several sheathes, each carrying a steel throwing knife. She's very, very rarely seen without a mask when armored.

She carries a black leather satchel on her side, containing a pair of bolas, a smoke bomb, several vials of highly-concentrated poisons, and a small pouch of coins.

Personality

Kireyna is a calm, cautious individual, always coming up with a plan before the action hits. The years growing up in and out of the orphanage have given her a more rational, if not bitter, outlook on the world. Even so, she isn't always pessimistic; She's seen that not all people are bad. She's the kind of person that would willingly share their thievery spoils with someone in need, but her altruism doesn't get in the way of her willingness to kill. She doesn't let greed cloud her vision, nor does she let her proficient skill in combat get to her head.

She has no qualms with fighting in the shadows, nor does she hold back on using poisons for increased lethality. She fights with efficiency and a notable lack of honor. She wouldn't hesitate to throw down a smoke bomb to make her escape, stab someone in the back, or blind them with a handful of dirt. Victory means nothing if you're not around to see the light of day.

History

- I -

Kireyna's mother died shortly after her birth, leaving her to be raised in Stromgarde's orphanage. Her mother was no one of importance, being of common blood, and her father was nowhere to be seen. The headmistress of the orphanage hated kids, and constantly questioned her line of work. She'd yell at the kids and tell them their parents were better off dead, for even that would be better than raising the little brats.

Kireyna received little in the ways of education, but she was a bright and clever child, albeit dishonest. She'd leave the orphanage during the night and come back at dawn, lying about the copper and silver coins she'd bring back. She frequently claimed to have begged for them, but that was far from the truth. There wasn't a person walking the streets of Stromgarde who'd willingly lighten their coin pouch.

It was the eve of her fourteenth birthday and she wanted to buy herself a present, but was lacking the currency to do so. She was used to stealing from commoners, but it would take hundreds of them to get what she was after. She spotted a man walking the cold cobblestone streets with his head held high, his attire finely tailored to his body. She knew he had to be a noble of some sort, and greed got the best of her. She quietly snuck up behind him and snatched for his pouch of coins, but he knew she was coming. Somehow, in a blur, he was holding her wrist, facing her in the dimly lit night.

"A thief? You could really get in trouble, you know." Kireyna didn't respond, trying to break free of his grasp. "You're persistent, I'll give you that. What are you doing picking pockets?" She stopped struggling, deeming it useless. She looked up at him, now standing still. He didn't loosen his grip on her wrist. "That's none of your business," she replied after a moment of thought, looking around. She debated whether or not she should yell for help. She was good at lying to the guards, and she looked as innocent as any other little girl. He saw a shimmer of intelligence in her eyes, and he knew he had found who he was looking for. "If I let go, will you run?" She paused, then shook her head. He let go of her wrist. "Are you looking for a home?" She paused again, then nodded. He turned around, his cloak swirling behind him. He let his hand drop to his side, opening it for her to hold. "Then it's settled. You'll come home with me." How could she decline? She hated the orphanage, and living on the streets wasn't a viable long-term option.

When they arrived at his estate, he gave her a tour of his home and showed Kireyna to her new room. He let her sleep without giving her his name, saving the introductions for the morning. When she questioned him about his nightly walk, he simply shrugged and said he was getting restless. She didn't question him further, even if she wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she couldn't help but notice the dagger hugging his leg.

She wandered to the dining room when morning came, the scent of bacon guiding her to her new guardian. He bowed when she entered the room, but by the amused smile that painted his face, it was hard to tell if he was mocking her or not. She decided to bow just in case. "I was afraid you might sleep in and miss breakfast. I'm glad to see I was mistaken." He gestured to a chair, which she quietly sat in. "I'm Markiel. I'll be watching over you from now on."

"Do you kill people?" He stared at Kireyna, not entirely sure if it was a question, or an accusation. "Why do you ask?" She paused, then she answered him. "That weapon. Your dagger. You were wearing it last night, and you're wearing it now. Do you use it to kill people?" He arched a brow. "I wouldn't wear it if I didn't know how to use it. What's your name?" He dodged the question, and she noticed. There was a pause before she responded. "Kireyna."

"Well, Kireyna, I'm sure your hunger is stronger than your curiosity. Let's eat, shall we?" He brought over a plate of bacon strips, setting them in the middle of table. She stared at them with some hesitance before taking a strip, quietly munching on the delicious crispy meat. It was far better than anything she'd ever had in the orphanage, that's for sure.

"Would it bother you if I did kill people?" He took a seat on the opposite end of Kireyna, putting a few strips of bacon on his plate. He didn't speak with an aggressive tone as the headmaster did. It was calm, soothing, even. She paused, stopping herself from eating the entire plate of bacon. "I don't know. It depends." He pokes at his bacon. "Depends on what?" She looks around the room, shrugging lightly. "Whether or not they deserve it, I suppose."

"Are you saying that because you believe it, or because that's the kind of answer that would get you out of trouble?" There was a long pause, then she looked down at her plate of bacon. "I'm not sure. Killing is wrong, right?" She looked up at him, surprised to see him smiling. "...Do you think killing is wrong?" He mused, eating a strip of bacon.

She quickly nodded, then offered a verbal response. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind if the headmistress was killed. She's mean." He leaned against the table, nodding in thought. Had he already finished eating? His plate was empty, but she didn't remember seeing him eat all of that food so fast. "I won't get in trouble for saying that, will I?" His smile didn't falter. "Of course not, Kireyna. Now, meet me in the basement when you're finished eating." He stood from the table and walked off. "We should start your lessons as early as possible." She nodded, though she didn't know what he was talking about.

Before they started, he explained to her that all wealthy children receive this sort of training, which was true to some extent. Every noble worthy of their title had at least a minimal amount of self defense training. They met in the basement every evening for three years, each lesson bringing something familiar, and something new. He taught her about herbalism, the healing nature of some plants, the destructive nature of others, and something new if they were brought together. She was a quick learner and she never disappointed him.

Kireyna was content with staying indoors. She wasn't a very social child, and she'd rather improve her skills than mingle with others. It wasn't long before Markiel told her of his profession, and he wasn't entirely surprised to find out that she had already guessed. In fact, it would have disappointed him to hear that she wasn't picking up on his late entrances and long periods of unexplained absences. He was turning her into a lethal weapon, and she knew it.

After a few spars with Markiel, she quickly switched from using a sword to wielding two daggers. He had been training her to be ambidextrous all of these years by encouraging her to write with both hands, and giving her different exercises involving feats of athleticism, starting with handsprings and ending with scaling the estate. She loved sitting on the roof after a good climb to watch the sun set over the hills. Markiel would often join her, though their time was spent in mutual silence.

-II-

She was sheltered from the first and the second war, but the sudden assassination of Thoras Trollbane caught them both off guard. Stromgarde was no longer safe. Markiel quickly packed their things and they left the next day, abandoning the estate. They rode on horseback to Stormwind, hoping to find refuge there. When they did arrive, Markiel requested an audience with a few other high-ranking parties of Stormwind. It was there that he claimed to be of a noble Arathian bloodline. He had the accumulated wealth to back it up, several convincing documents, and even a family heirloom. It was only later that Kireyna found out he had forged a false identity, with her as his daughter. He purchased an estate in Stormwind and they settled in, their claims of nobility deemed legitimate.

Kireyna Ebonheart. She never thought she'd be nobility, falsified or not. Markiel looked at her as his daughter, not as an adopted orphan swept off of the streets in Stromgarde. She didn't have any problems adjusting to her new life in Stormwind. It was the same thing, just in a new skin. He continued her training and she continued her studying, but Markiel was not a fool. He knew that appearance was an important part of nobility. When the estate was outfitted with furniture and lavish decorations, he sent out invitations to the nobility of Stormwind. He taught Kireyna how to dance, how to walk with elegance, and how to introduce herself to the other families.

Markiel didn't have to teach Kireyna very much, seeing as she has always been a quiet, rather shy child. He wasn't worried about her saying anything that would make the nobility suspicious. If you looked at the documents, or even asked whatever people remained in Stromgarde, the story would be the same. It was vague to begin with, as the last Ebonheart died before Kireyna was born. In a way, what they were doing wasn't wrong; They were simply reviving the bloodline. Markiel put his skill in forgery to good use.

Kireyna was growing up to be a beautiful woman. The party was on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, and already the nobles were asking Markiel if they could take her hand in marriage. He declined all of them, though, not only because he deemed them unworthy-- which he did, because he's her father, and fathers never think someone is good enough for their daughter-- but because he wasn't sure if it was the smartest move. On one hand, he wanted to gain the favor of the other nobles beyond a simple display of his wealth and his trusting demeanor, but he didn't want to force Kireyna to marry, and he certainly didn't want her to have children. Her training was far from complete. She still had much to learn.

Training went on as usual, using the secrecy of the Ebonheart Estate's basement to their advantage. He started giving her anatomy lessons, and although she didn't learn the names of all the bones or organs, she certainly knew where to aim in combat. It wasn't long before he introduced poisons into the mix. She'd been learning all about herbalism, but she'd never put it to use. He taught her how to properly mix, apply, and use these poisons to further her lethality. This went on for another year until until Markiel received a contract. He'd never shared any of these with her before, but he wanted to put her skills to the test. She was eager to take it on.

Her first contract was signed by a man named Kirmek, who explained his situation. He was a member of the guard here in Stormwind and there was an open position for promotion. He wanted to ensure he would be picked, but to do so, he had to eliminate the competition. He wanted discretion, so as not to bring suspicion towards himself, preferring that the death of his target would be looked upon as an accident, or an act of nature. With the letter was a note detailing the target's daily activities, where he sleeps, and what he eats. He provided a rough sketch of the guardsman along with the note.

When Kireyna asked Markiel how she should go about performing the assassination, he simply asked her the same question, allowing her a moment to think out loud. "Dreamfoil, if mixed together with deathweed, can create a poison that mimics a heart attack." She looks over at Markiel, as if seeking clarification. He nods. "And for a method of delivery?" Kireyna pauses for a moment, "If he could ingest it, the poison would get to work relatively fast. He would be dead within the hour... But the poison wouldn't be clear, and it would have a bitter taste." Markiel smiles faintly, glad that his teachings are sinking in. "Of course, but there are ways to counteract that," he responds, gesturing for her to continue. "Sungrass. The sweetness will counteract the bitter taste, but I have to make sure not to use too much." She looks over at Markiel again, waiting for his response. He let's out a long sigh and smiles brightly, holding out his arms to embrace her in a warm hug. "You're ready for your first mission. I'll observe you craft the poison, and intervene if I see something wrong. I'm proud of you, Kireyna. I'm sure you'll do well."

-III-

Kireyna prepared the poison and emptied it into a small vial. The poison was highly concentrated; It would only take a few drops of this in his drink to ensure his death. She slipped on her dark leather attire and lifted a mask over her face, climbing out of a window to the side of the estate. She quickly made her way to the barracks, skipping across the rooftops, shrugging off the cool breeze in the night air. Stormwind was always windy, but she wasn't about to complain. She had a job to do, and nothing was going to stop her.

As she approached the roof of the barracks, she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was about to kill someone, someone she never knew. This would be her first murder. Kireyna quietly picked the locked window and slipped inside the dimly lit room. The bed was empty and there was a mug of ale on the nightstand. This was his room. He'd be here shortly, so she had to act fast, quickly taking the vial of poison in her hand. She let several drops of the liquid fall into the drink before putting the cork back in and slipping outside. She closed the window and leaned off to the side, peering into the room. She waited for Aron to walk in, sit on his bed, and grab his mug of ale. He drank it all in one fell swoop, coughed, grimaced, and ran a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself. He laid in the bed and closed his eyes.

He was found the next morning. They deduced that he had died of a heart attack, and nothing could have been done to prevent it. He was buried in the graveyard and no questions were asked. Kirmek was offered the promotion. He accepted it with dignity and gave a speech mourning the loss of his old friend Aron. Markiel handed Kireyna a package later that week, filled with coins. She had handled her first kill. It was professional, efficient, and nobody knew it was an assassination. She didn't feel guilty like she thought she might, either. This was the world that she lived in, and she wanted nothing more than to make Markiel proud. She cared little for the money. This was about proving her worth.

Markiel began sharing his contracts with her. He'd often ask her for advice, or even ask her to come along with him, depending on the mission. She was growing more cunning with each passing day, and it wasn't long before she caught a sight of Markiel's abilities. He was a friend of the night, and the shadows bended to his will, providing him with improved stealth. They concealed him from prying eyes, and they allowed him to do things Kireyna thought impossible. The shadows could wash away harmful effects, if willed. He didn't fear mage fire. He didn't fear being seen.

Kireyna was eager to learn more. She watched him step through the shadows and appear at her side, and she watched as he imbued his dagger for a ghostly strike, slashing at the air beside her. Kireyna wanted nothing more than to share his gift, and he did so without hesitation. "This is what differentiates a person wielding a dagger and a trained assassin, Kireyna. You will walk with the shadows as one; They will bend to your will."

- IV -

She became used to putting on a show for the nobility, and training in secrecy. She'd experienced several romantic relationships over the years, but all of them ended the same. She couldn't dedicate herself to the other, and so they moved on. Training meant more to her than love; Training was love, in a sense. It proved to Markiel that she loved him, that she was more dedicated to his way of life than to any other. Cloak and dagger would become her speciality. She accompanied Markiel on more missions, in which he'd give her his advice, show her the best way to use her skills, and occasionally let her go through with the final assassination, be it a dagger sinking into an unsuspecting back, or a chandelier falling from the ceiling. People paid for their services without ever knowing their names, or ever seeing their faces. All they knew was that they got things done, and they were good at what they did.

They sparred more and more frequently, and the fights began growing longer. It wasn't until Kireyna's twenty-sixth birthday that she finally beat him. In the end, her dagger pressed against his throat, and he dropped his blades. He knew that was the fatal strike.

"You fight well, my apprentice. You fight with efficiency, not honor. You fight to win. You fight to be the best!" She lowered her dagger and wiped the sweat off her brow. "I couldn't have done it without your training, father," she respond with a fatigued smile. "You may have bested me, Kireyna, but know that the true training begins when I am no longer at your side to guide you. Although I will be here to offer you advice, you will kill alone. We will be taking separate contracts, much like your first kill. I will still come to you with letters, but you won't always be able to rely on me. I'm nearing my fifties, whereas you're barely in your late twenties. I will retire in a years time and look after the Ebonheart Estate. You are free to come and go as you please, as this is still your home, but I will encourage you to find singularity."

Kireyna nodded. "I understand, father." She paused, eying the smirk on his face. "Do you? We will see. You are to leave Stormwind for two weeks time; In this time, you will learn to survive on your own, off of the land! You are a cunning girl. Steal, hunt, whatever works-- You will start to appreciate what it is to be without wealth once again." Kireyna looks away, then back to him with an appreciative smirk. "Don't worry, father. I've never forgotten what it was like to be without coin, or family. I accept this challenge."

And so Kireyna set off into the night, clad in her arms and armor, heading to duskwood where she'd wait until her two weeks were up. There is no telling what the future will bring for this Assassin, but may one thing be known; It is clouded by shadow, and fueled by blood.

Skills and Abilities

[Markiel's Apprentice]

Years of training have allowed her to use the shadows to her advantage. He's taught her the art of subtlety, allowing her to shadowstep to vantage points, or behind the backs of her enemies.

[Shadow Strike]

Kireyna leaps out of the darkness with a shadow-imbued dagger, allowing her attack to pierce even the toughest of armor.

[Entrapment]

Kireyna throws bolas at her target's legs to keep them from running.

[Deceit]

She's learned to forge convincing signatures, false invitations, and letters of identification.

[Black Hearted]

She now belongs to a noble family, the Ebonhearts. Her father, Markiel Ebonheart, plays a pivotal role in making sure the Stormwind Guard turns a blind eye to accusations of unlawful behavior, so long as there is little to no evidence pitted against them.