Narine

Information

Player: Kilthilanos

Character Full Name: Narine Duskwalker

Character In-Game Name: Narine

Nickname(s): Nari (Shortened version of her first name) and Quick-wrist.

Association(s): None (As of yet)

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Rogue

Skills and Abilities: She is a fairly acrobatic person whom possesses the common place skills of a rogue and scout. Given the opportunity she would much rather exercise her ability to remain unseen and unheard, or to nimbly scale obstacles that are otherwise too much a challenge for most to ascend.

Age: 129

Sex: Female

Hair: White; often pulled into a ponytail that juts outwards from the back of her head. Bangs droop across her forehead to conceal the better part of it; ending just above her eyebrows.

Eyes: Green

Weight: 121 lbs

Height: 5'7”

Appearance

Typically nowadays she can be seen wearing rather concealing leather armors or clothing ranging from simple to exotic fabrics which typically carried darker colors mainly consisting of black, grays, and reds. Easy to maintain is more or less what she aims for, though as of late she has begun to find herself wearing more revealing attire when not in the field. This depending purely upon her mood and day to day tastes can range anywhere from the clothes of a commoner to luxurious dresses. Perhaps even outfits more lewd in design, by consideration of some.

Personality

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Narine bears the sort of attitude that one might possess after years of being teased as a child and having lived through many difficult changes. Often times her anger is prone to gain the best of her, though she is quick to calm if not continually antagonized. With how her life had been lived she understands full well how to conceal how she is feeling though that is only emotionally and not through body language. If she is cheerful one might tell from the energy she might suddenly come up with and depression is usually met with a sort of full body hunch. Nari is the silent type though depending on whom she is around this is capable of changing. Her life had been lived primarily in solitude, though there are a few number of individuals, particularly a woman she had come to know as her lover that had broken her out of her shell and forged her to become more personable.

History

A single evening was all it had taken for the fates to make a decision of mercy towards a soul that they were bringing into being. This was to blame for the birthing of another being within the world of turmoil that so many struggled day by day to withstand. It all had begun with nothing more than a high elven male and female. His name was Azrius Duskwalker; a charmer by nature. Usually he bore nothing more than the largest of smirks and carried enough confidence that even titansteel couldn't bang a dent in it. Of course he would know several ladies, one of whom he knew as Shel'nade Crimsonfall. This particular name lived true through her appearance, hair as radiant and bright as any rose, framing a gentle kind face; ending at the length of her shoulders.

In the amount of time these two spent amongst one another's company, they steadily outgrew any friendship and shot almost immediately into a budding partnership.

Given how long they had remained in together, it was no surprise what was to come next. They would eventually fall into a state of lust to which neither could deny. Their desires and passions surmounted any other emotion that could be felt and they would finally buckle to their urges and bed one another. For Narine, this evening was a blessing. For Azrius and Shel'nade it was but a horrible incident. From their recklessness and greed for the flesh would stem the creation of a child that neither knew of nor cared of until months had passed and the stomach of his love began to swell.

They knew what had transpired and both cared little to carry out the duties of parenthood as they felt no love, no desire to raise a child, and certainly no responsibility toward this life they had sown. In secrecy she had been born. There was no aid from outside sources or strangers, be it doctors or friends. No one would know but those two that this was their daughter, neither taking the mantle of her guardian or parent. She was to be woefully abandoned. Narine had been deserted very shortly after birth in an atrocious and selfish act made by those paternal to her. Humans she had been given to, taken to Stormwind to be placed within the orphanage or so their intent was. The couple she had been so carelessly handed too were not the sort whom practiced magic by any means nor the arts of warfare. Simple folk through and through. Her deserters had met with this human couple, finding them suitable enough to undergo the task of ridding them of their mistake.

By the time she arrived within Alliance controlled lands little Narine would have reached two years of age. Over their travels together the couple had grown content with the idea of actually raising this child to have some sort of opportunity and chance in the world. They would see to it that she managed to make it at the very least to her teen years, nestled in their homestead present within Westfall. Gradually she grew at the slow pace that elves so typically did, her guardians aging significantly faster as it became apparent that while growing out of adolescence their age had become of concern. Narine revered this couple.. Roseline and Jamison Evland she remembers them being called. She was finally old enough to comprehend what death was. Responsibilities she never once had now fell upon her shoulders as the young high elven lass tended now to the well aged human pair that had done the very same for her. It would come to pass a great time of sorrow in her life that these two would eventually pass into the life beyond mortality. Roseline had fallen to the curse of age first, the woman whom had taught her so many essentials in life.

There were many fundamentals that she now had a firm grasp of thanks to Rose's teachings. Cooking, keeping her appearance, reading, speaking, walking, stitching, and perhaps one of the greatest gifts of all, a strong will and a noble heart. Jamison himself was responsible for building her fitness to a degree of strength and agility whilst giving her a sharp whit so that she could have a sense of right, wrong, and common sense in a world so challenging. Not one year after her passing would Jamison come to rest. He was just as loving as his wife had been and with each year passed he would only become a warmer spirit. Both of them requested of Nari to cremate the remains which she had done out of nothing but respect and love for the two responsible for her upbringing. Furthermore their ashes once separate had been conjoined after the second burning. A promise had been made that they would have been taken somewhere to be spread so that their bodies could return to the lands and become one with what they had broken away from.

Once again she was alone in a world that neither cared nor knew of Nari's existence. Gathering what few belongings she had and the inherited funds from her caretaker's she would set off. Distance came between herself and the human lands as wars came and passed; leaving the world about her in an even more dismal and ruined condition than before she had entered. Racism made itself known to the no longer ignorant child, frustrated and fueled by the hatred of human's to leave their lands. Nari did what she must to endure and tried her very best to scrape by a living. Through thievery, tact, and stealth she learned what was necessary to live. Nari was indeed clumsy with a dagger and very hesitant to harm or kill, but thieving and sneaking came as naturally as breathing to most. Even as a novice and one whom had much yet to learn, the elven lass showed a great deal of promise and talent. The next several years of her life weren't friendly, nor ere they very dignified despite her capabilities. Narine resorted to stealing scraps of food, even begging in times of greater desperation, for any sort of sustenance that would permit her the strength to push through to the next day.

Through common talk she had learned of a truly monumental city to the north of the continent stood.. Silvermoon she had heard it called. This ignited a spark deep inside of her, a natural curiosity which drove the young blossoming female onwards to explore and seek a place of acceptance. She traveled long and hard for this goal, dealing with the many hardships of being alone and inexperienced. In her time spent traveling she had witnessed such horrors and destruction of the warring races and factions that clashed, having been aside from most all of the conflict during her youth. Numerous encounters with bandits and muggers gave Nari further 'practice' to slip away, though not without periodically losing some equipment along the way. Many days of fatigue had run her body to its limit, having starved herself at times while trekking fair distances on foot. She had traversed various lands that lead upwards towards the tip of the continent, Nari now taking up small jobs wherever she may be depending on what she was in most need of being food, water, shelter or clothing in exchange for her services. She primarily carried out general labor, working on gathering materials in the wilderness or running as a courier to deliver packages or letters to their destinations.

During her travels the woman would almost unexpectedly collapse onto the ground feeling completely drained of energy.. starved and sickened. A feeling of disorientation pounded away at the back of her skull; gnawing and weakening Nari. This made the way north significantly harder on the elven woman whom felt as though a part of her had all but withered and died; literally separated from her entire being. It was disheartening and very uncomfortable, each step taken now with a lack of conviction unlike her original stride. The world around her had changed and no longer carried the same vibrant tone before. Immediately in her mind she passed it off as having fallen ill, a lesson for pushing the body too hard without adequate rest. So very close however she had managed to make it.. just a few more days travel away as now she stood at the border of Tirisfal. With daggers hand in hand this little explorer carried out what she believed to be something exceptionally important to her life. If this place was nothing more than a rumor, then she would surely perish in these strange lands. Places to supply herself had thinned out the further north she managed to go, now having to keep her guard as high as could be in the arid lands around her. Through Tirisfal she crept, remaining as concealed as could be at any given moment. The sight of such strange beings, these 'Forsaken', frightened Nari to the point that she would avoid them at every stop and turn.

It took the better part of a week for her to even just manage out of the Glade, its size offering some difficulty as well as having no prior knowledge to its layout. Taking a route based on stealth as a priority made things no easier for the soon to be altered elven lass. The Plaguelands were before her now, standing at the border between the two. Nari would look out across the hazy air that was ever present with the scent of decay, stomach twisted into a knot at the foul odor. Several minutes spent cautiously moving along the path lead her through the ruined lands which had been haunted with the never ending and ever reoccurring scourge. To the side of the path was an encampment of heavily armored soldiers.. all turning and looking to her with smiles spread across their visages. This left an ill sensation deep within her gut as some approached. One of them stepped ahead of the rest to wave her over, voice taking a concerned tone as the first thing spoken was a question. Distinctly she could recall him questioning why someone so under equipped and alone was in such a dangerous place. Quickly she would explain that she sought to make her way north, to a city called Silvermoon. Several hours of intense conversation followed the generosity of a meal. It wasn't much, but it was warm and offered her what was needed to pull through the progressively longer days she lived. After being briefly educated on their order, something called the Argent Dawn, they had kindly offered transit to the neighboring land where a chapel of theirs was located. This offer was all too eagerly accepted. Armed protection was the safest way to travel, especially with paladins in an undead filled locale.

Hours felt like years in this land, the sounds of screams and combat in the distance instilling her with fear. Nari was only able to relax at the notion that the men surrounding her were significantly better fighters than she had ever born witness too. Slayers of the undead to boot! They themselves were needing to make the trek as it were anyhow, having a need to transport supplies from one outpost to the next whilst trimming the undead's numbers. Upon arrival she would don a most inquisitive expression, looking over the number of human's and dwarve's that had taken up residence at the chapel. As payment she would assist them in unloading their supplies from the horse drawn wagon they escorted. Just as she had been about to leave, two paladins of equal skill volunteered to see to her safety to the entrance of the forest beyond where they resided. Nari would not hesitate to accept their offer. It took them nothing more than a single hour to arrive, nothing so much as a fly challenging them on their route. Perhaps the undead knew fear of sort. Maybe the two she was escorted by were mightier than they looked. Upon arrival they would share some parting words and thanks, Nari none too hesitant to leave the otherwise gloomy landscape behind her. She knew little of religion, but the woman would at that time plead for their safe return as she pressed on.

Ghostlands. That was her current location, told to her by those that she had been previously escorted by. It was relatively simple to traverse, no real danger ever growing near as she kept strictly to the roads and managed with minimal effort to make it into Eversong, having followed along a massive scar in the land, teeming with skeletons and other atrocities to life. Something had recently come through here, death fresh in the air and dirt as there was an enormous trail leading upwards over the hills. This trail was of burned. Dead soil brimming with decomposed and rotting bodies within the earth. Nari hadn't the energy to run in days, but instinct spurred her to do so, legs finding the courage to carry her the distance needed to see that the city she sought truly existed. Part of it had been utterly crushed by some unimaginable force however, knowing nothing of the events that transpired here. Her unknown 'home'. With haste she had approached, exhausted and weary, only to come across another whom looked quite similar to herself. This stranger would twist and scowl at her before offering a sinister grin, her fear evident and plastered in the expression she bore, "You look utterly starved.." his grim tone of voice shook her very insides, cautiously watching and observing the green glow present in his oculars. He would then withdraw and extend from a pouch on his hip, a small stone that was the same color as his eyes. Nari took this within her hands looking it over curiously, all too ignorant and naive, "All you need but do is focus on this stone. Then everything will be better.. To you I swear on this.." Another smooth mumble was directed her way. The instructions given had been followed, much to her dismay. Nari's ears filled with a hoarse ring that all but deafened her. Panic filled her eyes as she could see him chuckling and walking away, imp bouncing along at his side. That familiar feeling of the world returned to her, the one that had been robbed of her in her travels, senses rushing back in a way she had never felt before. It was utterly thrilling and overwhelming for the young elf, quick however to collapse and wind herself into a pained ball. It was too much all at once, her blood feeling as though it were boiling within her veins. At the top of her lungs she screamed, wailing bloody murder until everything went black, unconscious where she lay. Upon awakening, any racial classification she previously bore had changed; her own eyes now bearing that distinguished haunting emerald glow.