Svenn

Information

Player: Alpharius

Character Full Name: Svenn’Varal Draconis

Character In-Game Name: Svenn

Nickname(s): “Svenn” “Burning Hands.”

Association(s): Shattered Sun, Horde

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Warlock

Skills and Abilities: extensive fire training

Age: 500

Sex: Male

Hair: Dark Blue

Eyes: Glowy Green

Weight: 170 lbs

Height: 6’2"

Appearance

Usual Garments/Armor: He has a green lens eyepatch that he wears to “look like his older brother.” He wears dark grey light armored oversized shoulderplates. He sports a tribal harness with beads, feathers, and other fetishes adorned to it, like his brother. He always wears a tabard showing his pride for the Shattered Sun. He wears black form fitting pants for easy maneuverability.

Other: He usually has either a sword on his hip or on his back, a knife in his boot, on his belt, behind his back, and under his arm. He has burns on his hands, and on parts of his body.

Personality

If you asked his peers to describe Svenn in one word, it would be “Focused.” He seems to be driven to excel in everything he does: Magic, sailing, fighting, building. He loved to make things better than they were, which is how he got into blacksmithing and engineering. The one thing that he was unable to succeed at is being able to mesh with society. He finds such things strange and alien… However, compared to the rest of his family, he is the most accepting. Which says a lot.

He has a strange sense of humor, often with the use of heavy sarcasm. It is not hard to tell when he is being serious, however. He makes it clear that he wants others around him to have a clear distinction between the two.

At this point in his life, He has become a typical grouch. He has grumbled and growled at new visitors to his personal area, but figures if they’re going to stick around he might as well talk to them. He will tell you that he doesn’t like anyone and everyone around him, yet he has quite the number of friends for a grouch of his magnitude. In the past, he has had no troubling making friends, because they admire his loyalty and what has been called as “being himself,” which he surmises is something rare in Elven culture. If there is another thing that could be said of Svenn, it is that he is incredibly loyal, especially to those of his family. What friends he has, he makes sure to take care of them, and not betray their trust. While he may be grouchy, he is somehow able to be hospitable. This has not changed even when he became a self-proclaimed grouch.

He has had issues with alcohol, as he used to be an alcoholic.

He has a thing for the ladies, but has only a few times in his life actually stopped to date or even marry one of them. This has happened only three times, and only for a period of a few months. When asked about it, he will claim it is not his fault and will go into a long and boring story about it.

He has an insane hatred and fear of spiders. No one is able to tell which, since he has been seen both running away and toward spiders. He had claimed it is neither.

History

Svenn was not born into any kind of nobility, or as a street urchin. He was born into a warrior family of a martial lifestyle: Everyone in his family, at some point, fought in some kind of war or battle or was part of some guard or policing force. Everyone knew how to fight. So it was odd when Tiralid and Alluvia’s second child, Svenn, wanted to take up magic. If their son was going to learn “sissy magic,” he would go into the school of ash and brimstone: Fire.

He learned everything about fire: What makes a flame, what creates a fire, and more importantly, how to respect the fire. He was told that fire was the most dangerous weapon any general ever used: Once deployed, there was no going back. Not even a raging bull stampede could compete with the utter destruction fire was capable of. His masters had taught him “Those who use fire to help with their assault show that they are above their peers.” He was then sent to the mage schools in dalaran.

Having learned all he could of such powers, he was sent to join the Elven army. At the time, absolutely nothing was going on in the area of the elves: They were swatting away trolls that would venture into their area and sent them wherever they were crawling out of. In between the time of hunting the trolls and training, he took up drinking. This went from a social thing, to drinking heavily, even on troll hunts. One day he was severely chastised for drinking while on patrol, having broken into the stores of their alcohol and using it for his own personal use. He was put on temporary leave and put into a program to rid him of his want for alcohol, which would involve brain washing and conditioning. While it worked, to a point, it would eventually wear off. Nothing lasts forever.

When the second war rolled around, The Draconis “Clan,” as they refer to themselves now, were among the first to help the humans in their fight with the orcs, as the orcs are noted for being battle hungry. They would also be there to assist with the assault into the Dark Portal.

Sometime in the second war, he would visit Stratholme. It was a port town, and this was where he learned to love the open water. He tagged along with a group of elven sailors for a while. When he was told that they would go elsewhere, he waved his goodbyes to this port town in the hopes he would return. He would then go back to the new Stratholme, not knowing of its first destruction. A grand and prosperous town with many strange shops that sold oddities and other strange wares. He was most fond of their weapon shops that sold exotic weapons from, what they claimed, were “far away lands.” He would spend much of his time here, even going so far as to ask for a permanent transfer, until the war called him away again. He used to like to watch the Paladins around the city go about their hubbub and business. He would never truly find out about its complete annihilation by the hands of Arthas until much much later.

When the humans had ventured into the Dark Portal, only four of the remaining Draconis Clan who had stayed behind were left. All of the clan who had ventured into the Portal did not come back. They Disbanded the Draconis Clan, and simply remained as a family of four. So they returned to Quel’Thalas, but something was wrong… Svenn and his family had become bitter, growing tired of how the other Elves were acting, as if somehow, when they returned, they were all acting strangely to them, when that was far from the truth. He and the rest of his family would spend the next twelve years out in the woods of Quel’Thalas, away from many of the Elves. They would eventually rejoin the human army and fought with them against the horde forces who opposed them.

Strange rumors were flying around that a dark shadow hung over Lordaeron: Grain was turning people to undead slaves, and the graves would shake and rattle at the sounds of the walking dead. It was being called a scourge. The Elves, being much wiser than the humans, called for reinforcements. They were immediately called back to Quel’Thalas to protect the homeland. He and his family met in secret, and were torn between two allies. On one hand, it was their homeland, on the other, they still had rcs to fight. They decided that they owed nothing to the humans but owed everything to their former masters: He and the remainder of his family would return to Quel’Thalas, where they witnessed something no man (or Elf) should ever witness.

Many of them had heard stories… whispers, really… of tales of the deeds Arthas had done: the destruction of Stratholme (which Svenn had always said was like a second home to him,) the destruction of the silver hands and the death of Uther, the slaying of the Lordaeron king, the downfall of Lordaeron… All of these he would not find out were fact until much later in his life. But when the undead king Arthas rode on his pale horse of death, surrounded by an army of the rotting and the decayed, he knew that the rumors must be true. Svenn would fight for days, but they would only succeed in forcing themselves back. At some point, he was cut off from most of the fighting, and could only watch in the distance as their former home was covered in fire and smoke. Their troop commander ordered a full retreat deep into the woods until a plan could be formed. The elven forces would be scattered across the Eastern Kingdoms.

Then one day… the sky grew dark, and it rained fire. There they were: Infernals. No one in the group had ever seen them before this day. They came quickly and struck even faster! It seemed that nothing would put down this gathering of rocks of flame, anger and hatred. He barely escaped with his life, and rejoined the rest of his remaining squad. They scrambled away as fast as they could to their new calling.

A new leader had called them, and they would ride under the banner of the last prince of Quel’Thalas: Kael’Thas. He followed them in joining the newly formed Alliance, under the “leadership” of, what he assumed, was a self proclaimed Grand Marshal, named Garithos. The man had shown utter hatred for anything Elvish, which, oddly enough, did not bother Svenn. This man would also split up his family to do their own fighting. Svenn would be cut off for some time from them.

Svenn came to the conclusion that one day this man would be the death of him: Garithos continued to send him and his group on impossible missions. He grew angry and began to hate this Garithos and all humans for pushing him well beyond his limits. The stress had gotten to him so badly that he would burn himself many times due to lack of concentration and focus. He once tried to set aflame an undead minion, but instead had burned his hands and arms and was forced to fight the thing off with a sword he was given by his brother Asgrend. He recalled later how Asgrend had said to him that “Any elder race worth his salt should know how to fight with a blade.”

The sky grew dark again, and it rained hard. He thought nothing of it; it rained all the time, why should it be any different from today? He should have paid more attention to nature, because that was when the snake people came, calling themselves “naga.” Svenn was very wary of these new sentient creatures who promised he and his people freedom from the humans.. But he would do anything to get away from the command of that horrible human, Garithos, even if it meant rebelling against the humans.

Unfortunately, he would be cut off from the Blood Elf forces during a fight with the humans. He awoke, bleeding and weakened from the fight, surrounded by the corpses of his comrades. The snake people had left him for dead. There was absolutely no sign of the forces he was with, not a single trace, and he told himself that he had to make his way back to Quel’Thalas. It would take many days until he could return to the rebuilt city. He would remain here until his brother and father returned. They informed him that his mother had not returned from a battle. They assumed she was dead, and they had abandoned their people once again after they rebuilt the city. They retreated to the new world across the sea: Northrend. They would live there until battle called once again.

It was here in Northrend where he turned from the arcane arts to the dark arts. He was suffering from terrible nightmares: visions of raining fire, angry storms, shadows, and horrible nightmare creatures. He would suffer from these nightmares for months, until he felt something call to him. He felt drawn to the outlands, like something was beckoning him. He thought maybe the visions were of his lost family members calling to him. This was after his brother had gone missing as well; he assumed that his brother suffered these same nightmares. He hoped to find his brother in the outlands, perhaps called by the same voices in the wind.

He told his father what had happened, and they both agreed to search for him. They went their separate ways to locate his bother: Tiralid would scour the eastern kingdoms, and Svenn would search the outlands. They would meet up in after a period of two months to search Kalimdor.

It was many weeks, many battles, and many sleepless nights, yet there was no sign of any of the voices that called to him, no sign of his lost “clan” mates, and no sign of his brother. He began to grew weary and even more austere. His magic began to grew dark… And that’s when a nameless orc approached him. He whispered promises of power and strength, and offered him a spell book of dark magic. The only thing he wanted in return was his undying loyalty to the Burning Legion.

Svenn thought about this for a while… Perhaps he could use this power to find his brother, and his lost clan mates. But then he remembered all the fighting he did against the Burning Legion. They weren’t some simple enemy of conquerors and barbarians, they were a nightmare force. He took the book, and hatched a plan: he would train, but then he would kill this agent of the Burning Legion, who he suspected was the one who was giving him the nightmares to begin with.

He spent what felt like years practicing his dark arts. Slowly but surely, he would join the ranks of the powerful warlocks that walked the plains of Azeroth. When his “Master” deemed him ready to face his masters in the Burning Legion, Svenn took one look at him and slayed him with his sword. To ensure the nameless orc would never return, he burned the corpse with his new powers, and it was there he forsook the teachings of Quel’Thalas and Dalaran forever. He would return to Azeroth, to find his father and a new figure waiting for him: They found his brother, but he was not the same man he once was. They reunited and returned to their home in Northrend, waiting for their next call to arms from their new masters: The Horde.

After returning home, he had heard that there was an offensive to fight Kael’Thas and his new militia. Remembering how him and the snake people simply abandoned him, he jumped at the chance of getting his revenge and joined their faction right away. Unfortunately, he would be too late: Kael’thas has long been dead. Svenn would simply have to take pleasure in the clean up operation and killing the elves who abandoned him.

At some point in his life he got married about three times. The first one was the older sister of a high ranking officer. She left him due to combat reasons and vanished. The second wife was the younger sibling: the high ranking officer. When she found out he was married to her sister (apparently no one told her) she chased him around with a battle axe. His third wife, as both of them agreed, was a premature marriage, and they broke it off a year later.