Tamara

Information

Player: Errata

Character Full Name: Tamara Still

Character In-Game Name: Tamara

Nickname(s): Tam, Tammy, Still

Association(s): Stromgarde, Lakeshire and Stormwind City

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Age: Thirty-one

Sex: Female

Hair: Messy black hair tied back into a bun.

Eyes: Brown

Weight: Hundred and seventy-six pounds.

Height: Six foot.

Appearance

Tamara's usual garb consists of a combination of red dragonscales and dragonhide. A few plates made of an alloy of mithril and adamantine reinforce the armor in several places. Other than Tamara's usual armor she wears dark red clothing. She has a greatsword sheathed on her back and a longsword is stored in a sheath on her belt.

Personality

Tamara is a rather kind woman who carries a lot of good intentions with her. The only problem with these good intentions is that Tamara has difficulties expressing them in a proper manner. Tamara's upright and honest way of speaking ofttimes gets her in some sort of trouble. The trouble usually is only to be taken lightly as Tamara is quick to realize when she's off on the wrong foot and will attempt to set things right.

Tamara tends to keep a cool head over almost any situation, it is rare for her to burst out into a fit of uncontrolled rage. Her cool head and quick improvisation grant for Tamara to easily dispense of trouble when it is close by. Tamara also seems to be awfully fond of red as a colour.

History

Tamara, yet another daughter. It wasn't uncommon for the Still family to have daughters, this already was the fourth one. Sadly, two of Tamara's older sisters hadn't been able to make it past two years old due to a sickness that ravaged the city of Stromgarde. Tamara remained with only one older sister, a mother and a father. Her mother was a leatherworker and quite a good one at that. She was even literate. Tamara's father was a much simpler person than her mother. He had been serving the cause of blacksmithing all his life. That and drinking were two of his greatest hobbies.

Jim, Tamara's father, had been hoping for a son with all his heart. He was disappointed with yet another daughter, and blamed his wife. What a stupid drunk. Still, he was no malevolent man and did not bring any violence to his home. It was rather inspiring that a drunk could be so committed to his family. Jim, giving up on his endeavors of getting a son, had taken solace with his youngest daughter. If there was no son then she would have to play the part of a son.

Tamara's childhood was an easy one. Her family had a nice and sheltered home in a quiet and kind neighborhood in Stromgarde. At the age of five, she was actually taken to the forge her father owned. She had already met her mother's occupation and did seem especially interested in it, but her father had already decided on her fate. Every week she had to spend at least part of a day at the forge and watch. She was too frail and young to even try to forge anything. The time Tamara did spend with her father increased dramatically over those few years and she even had started helping out her father with rather mundane tasks.

Then it all suddenly ended. Tamara and Carin, Tamara's older sister, were told not to leave the house under any circumstance by their father. He didn't come home, at least not for a good while. Their mother had taken it up on herself to raise the two girl which did not seem like much of an ordeal to her. Tamara and Carin had formed a pact and were playing a careful dance of who had the upper hand in their relationship. Carin was older but Tamara was growing in height at a much more rapid pace than her older sister. It still remained a careful dance, nonetheless.

Tamara's mother, Anja, had been working on supplying the city of Stromgarde with some proper leather suits. The city did repay Anja for her kind actions to help the nation with trying to fend off the Orcs. When the war was over, it left some ravaged countrysides and Orcs in internment camps but the Still family still was whole. Jim returned from the battle early, as he had sustained a wound to his left leg and was only a burden to the military. They called it an honourable resignation, Jim called it a reason to drink more liquor.

As soon as the second war had appeared it had vanished from sight. There were still remnants but in Stromgarde there was only the ring of church bells to commemorate the brave souls who gave their lives for Azeroth. Tamara and Carin alike couldn't recall anything about the war, nothing had changed. The girls were growing up. Carin was taught to be a proper lady by her mother. Tamara's sister had also been brought up with common sense and a tailor's eye. Tamara had pretty much the same education if you replaced being a proper lady and tailoring with sword fighting, blacksmithing and combat in general.

It was still a long while before Tamara was supposed to leave. She had been forced to enlist in the nation's pride as a blacksmith and a soldier. Tamara had followed her father's footsteps like her sister had followed her mother's footsteps. Carin had already found a significant other; the sisters still did dance but it mattered no more as Tamara was about to leave. She was given a gift. A gift, her mother mused, to compensate for losing her childhood to the coarse anvil. It was armour made in the nation's colours. A beautiful red suit composed of dragonscales, dragonhide and mithril.

Tamara was stationed with a force mostly composed of other women and frail men. It was as if the women were not fully trusted to guard the borders of the nation. They were stationed in some backwater district; nothing ever happened out there, but no one ever complained about this bar a few lunatics. Tamara was able to return to Stromgarde a few times on her leave but never was it a long visit. She was all too comfortable where she was stationed, only practicing and forging weapons to be shipped off to other military forces in the nation.

Finally, something happened. It had been years of only petty assaults and the occasional spree of robberies. The Scourge was invading Lordaeron and Tamara's hands itched for more than just petty battles. She wished to follow in her father's footsteps, barring the injury he sustained to his left leg. Sadly, to Tamara's disappointment there was no battle to be had. The commanding officer had ordered the force to accompany them to the coast, having received a concerning letter. They set sail in just a few days, sailing for the forgotten lands of Kalimdor. It was then that Tamara had discovered her seasickness, but no retreat was presented.

Progress was slow and casualties were high in the foreign lands. The fury of the seas had, oddly enough, spared Tamara's entire force. The same did not go for the mainland of Kalimdor. They had landed with dozens of other ships and mustered their forces. They converged with other Alliance troops, eventually joining the main bulk of Jaina's army. They were slowly headed up North, but their progress was slow because of the numerous encounters with hostile wildlife. Tamara even was able to cleave the arm off an ambushing harpy as the harpy had swooped down to grab another member of her squad. However, praise was not a custom when you had to constantly be aware of danger.

The journey became easier, they grew hardened by the travel and combat. Tamara had earned herself a name, sadly it was only her surname that she had earned as a nickname. It was a rather fitting one, however. The woman knew the moment to act and made her actions look as if they were heroic. Her companions knew better, they knew she kept still and took her time to assess the situation before she dove into combat. They were all getting better at surviving battle. The force's tactics improved and they were not even facing the worst of it. It eventually came down to three races battling a mighty foe.

Tamara was stationed on an outback of Mount Hyjal along with her force. They had to face few demons, as it was not a well traveled path that they were guarding. Her commander had pulled some sly tricks and cheap tactics to keep the path even less traveled by the demons. Pitfalls, logs from trees and arrow traps worked wonders. Guerrilla warfare in the safety of the Night Elven forests granted the troops less difficulty and only one casualty. One casualty to one of their own pitfalls. The battle didn't last long.

Jaina led the survivors of the battle, Tamara being one of many, to an island outpost named Theramore. It was there that Tamara chose to reside after the tolling battle for Mount Hyjal. They mourned their dead but yet there was also celebration. A celebration because the world had not ended as they knew it. Theramore still hadn't come into its full glory. There was work to be done. Tamara helped with the construction as best as she could. Many people left for the East once again, wishing to see their family. Tamara told a few friends to look for her family and tell them she was alright. She was living the adventure her father had always prepared her for.

Tamara would've called it exciting but not very eventful, the times at Theramore. There was one occasion on which the Horde had breached Theramore but Jaina's orders had been to stand down and let them take care of admiral Proudmoore. Slow years followed. She started to long for her family, she wanted to see them again. It had been too long and the contact via mail had never really returned any message to her. Tamara finally had mustered her courage to set sail. She was lying down most of the trip, along with vomiting overboard. Her seasickness hadn't cured itself yet.

Tamara's father had perished in Stromgarde during the assault of the Syndicate and the Boulderfist. So much was sure when she arrived there, but there seemed to be no clue as to where her sister and her mother had gone. She felt sad, but it also gave her a new purpose to search for her lost family members and to mourn those that had passed. Tamara had gone a long while without her family, but she knew everything would turn out for the best. After all, death befell everyone once in their life.

It was Tamara's cool head that saved her from the depths of misery in which some would've plummeted, having realized that they did not know where their family was, nor any affirmation of a family member's mortality. She just picked up where she left off and headed South. Stromgarde held nothing of interest anymore except for kind memories in which she wasn't going to indulge herself. She moved to the kingdom of Stormwind, starting afresh, but soon came the call of battle and Tamara had no reason to refuse it. It was off to the Outlands with the woman. There had she stayed for a decent period of time before the bulk of the forces of the Alliance were needed elsewhere.

Mostly only stationed in Hellfire Peninsula, Tamara was tasked with forging and blacksmithing, and was rarely permitted to step beyond the boundaries of the settlement. It did not allow for eventful times but it did grant her a certain sense of peace and quiet. She had gone on a few rare expeditions to foreign lands in that odd world of Draenor, mostly to help with mining the ore they needed for armor and weapons. Some improvised battles on a barren wasteland, it was not what Tamara had imagined of her call to arms. She was pleasantly surprised when they had retreated from the Outlands to help up in Northrend.

Tamara became even more at peace with herself. She had been stationed in the Grizzly Hills; there was close to no undead around that spot and the flora as well as fauna were enthralling. It was a sad sight to see Tamara's abilities wasted on peace and quiet, and no one ever doubted that Tamara would have agreed with that. The few skirmishes in which she had enrolled herself had left her barely scarred. She attained a few minor wounds, but healers seemed bent on fixing scars while they were at it. It had always been a relaxed duty for Tamara. Perhaps she was just lucky with the positions she had in the military. Tamara retired from service, and waited for the next thing to come along. All that she does nowadays is commute within the kingdom of Azeroth and forge weapons and armor.