Valsera
Information
Player: Delta.
Character Full Name: Valsera Lunesong.
Character In-Game Name: Valsera.
Associations: Independant.
Race: Kaldorei.
Class: Demon Hunter.
Age: 11125.
Sex: Female.
Hair: An orchid-flavoured indigo, wound into a loose and low tail.
Eyes: Prosthetic, only there to support the muscles and sockets.
Weight: 303lbs.
Height: 7’2”.
Skills and Abilities
In exchange for conventional vision, Valsera has obtained Spectral Sight. Her world is a drab, unremarkable palette of smudged grey; blurred, indistinct and barely navigable. Sources of Fel and Arcane exude a powerful aura of colour, varying in vivacity and hue depending on their origin. Demonic energies blaze distinctively.
In the spirit of fighting fire with fire, she is able to engulf herself and her weapons in immolating Fel-flames and toss a ball of this corrupted incendiary force. Valsera is also capable of inducing combustion of the residual energies inside an arcanist to both cause them harm and damage their casting ability.
By drawing from the stolen essences of Demons, she can replenish herself and refuel her powers as needed.
Appearance
Usual Garments/Armor: Valsera forgoes heavy armour for agility’s sake. Plate and mail encumber her too much to be of any practical use. She occasionally wears leather, for warmth, as well as to protect against glancing strikes.
Other: Vibrant indigo tattoos streak over her myriad scars, slicing through them in an orderly, angular – if vicious – pattern. She carries glaives forged for the specific purpose of rending demonic flesh.
Personality
Alignment: Neutral.
Willful and assertive, Valsera is a motivated individual who revels in the thrill of a challenge. Dauntless in typical manner and mien, she can be ignorant or insensitive towards others, and uncompromising once she has made a decision. Solitude and seclusion have been her way for most of her life, and she feels discomfort in civilised, populated areas. In debate and conversation, she often takes an evasive – yet persistent – approach, and is an attentive listener. The end of the Burning Legion is her ultimate desire, and she seldom acts bluntly, preferring esoteric, eccentric means that are more effective in the long run than the short.
The races most gravely injured by the Burning Legion’s onslaught have her sympathy. To the rest of the world, she is moderately indifferent. Although she disdains and distrusts arcanists and fel-weavers alike, she is not averse to working with them (or exploiting them) to accomplish her goals. Bottling hostility, she reserves her wrath for the corrupt. Fel and demons, she believes, are only inert tools. Without a guiding hand and ill intent, they can do nothing. She doesn’t mind sabotaging those tools to prevent their use, of course.
With her own people, she manages a tenuous balance of caution and devotion. Despite believing her path right and just, Valsera seldom vocally defends her decision to walk it. She is content to discuss it in the presence of a receptive, open-minded ear, though.
History
During a fortuitous age for her people, when affluence governed and Arcane artistry flourished, Valsera blinked open her silver eyes to behold the grand empire of the night elves. Her niche was carved into the foes of her people with an iron blade, though the scattered skirmishes she partook in were minor and sparse. The time not devoted to training and defending her home was spent in prayer. Her city’s modest temple provided a place of solitude and peace both, and the gentle moon goddess seemed more deserving of reverence than their illustrious monarch.
Valsera was among the main fighting force against the Burning Legion when they made their insurgence. There were times when she did not think she would rise again after the heinous creatures’ strikes cut her down, but Elune’s dutiful acolytes seemed to find her each time she fell. At the climax of the too-long battle, the earth itself split open, and Kalimdor was divided. The scream of a planet, she would recount today, is not a sound which can be forgotten.
The Sundering tore apart both the world and the warrior’s life as she’d known it until now. When the dust settled, Valsera was in no two minds about what had to be done. The Legion of demons which had wrought such destruction on her people would sorely regret having set cloven hoof on her world. Most had fled with their tails between their legs, or were destroyed when the land cracked open, but some remained. She hunted them, prepared to exact Elune’s wrath wherever she found the beasts.
Lesser matters were cast aside, and she delved into a life of careful tracking and brutal battles, some of which were lost at a high price. Valsera vehemently rallied her sisters during the war against the Satyr. Druids earned her distrust when the conflict called for their aid, and they recklessly took on unstable forms, turning against their own in frenzied rage. Even after the night elves’ victory, she found it difficult to place her faith in the Cenarion Circle again.
Centuries were poured into the defence of her homeland from all threats. Her favoured foes had grown clever; though they still thirsted for blood, they were more cautious about whom they struck, and when. There was nothing subtle about the march on Mt. Hyjal, however.
Though she had her doubts about the younger races, they were swiftly put aside. Humans proved capable warriors, and the orcs showed such savagery towards the demons that it was clear their hatred of the beasts rivaled hers. They had been freshly slighted, and all they had lost until now was still raw in their minds. Valsera understood and shared their feelings, fighting proudly beside them.
The Battle of Mt. Hyjal closed with the victory of the forces that had joined to combat the Burning Legion. Valsera ought to have been relieved, but she was only tense and anxious. A human man whom she had fought alongside queried the warrior on her bizarre mood, thinking her troubled over the loss of her immortality. When she explained her feelings, he advised that she make her way to the splintered Outland. He insisted she would find her answers there.
The wastes of a ruined world didn’t reveal their secrets at first glance. She had overheard the oldest orcs when they spoke of Draenor, recounting times when the fields rolled green and game was plentiful. Now, the earth was black, and the only band of green rose from behind jagged mountains, in a miasmic, sunless sunrise. It was a tangible hell, but she had travelled a long way, and the land was in no short supply of demons to scrub from its face. Valsera remained there, and that was where she encountered the man who would become her master, an austere kaldorei with dark, almost red skin, and a furious pattern of markings sprawled across his torso.
They were both surprised to discover one another. They each spoke of their pasts, and what had led them both to where they stood now. Valsera requested that he put her through the trials of a hunter that same night. Initially, of course, he refused. She was little more than a stranger to him, and it was a dreadful sacrifice; a decision not to be made lightly. The guile of compromise led to a concession, and he permitted her to join him on a hunt, where he might assess her competencies.
Valsera could not keep pace with the demon hunter. His skill and speed were unmatchable; he seemed to know precisely where to strike and when. He could spot a demon in the distance just as easily as she could a bird in the sky. All she could do was hold her own without getting underfoot, and this she accomplished well enough, having a great deal of experience fighting by the side of others. He agreed to take her on as a student when next she asked, but before that, he made a point of explaining to her:
“The corruption takes all of us, in the end. For some, days are enough. Others can last years. The perceptive realise it, and the driven fight it. The resolute might even keep it in check for a while. But it will happen. When it does, for the good of the world you battle to protect, you must do what needs to be done.”
Valsera apologised to the gentle goddess she had lived to serve until then, and said her farewells to Elune.
After a lifetime spent in pursuit of and being pursued by the twisted beings of the Nether, Valsera thought herself well-versed in their ways. The gaps in her knowledge surprised her, and she sought to fill them with her master’s guidance. A new way of thinking dawned on her. Rather than evil and good, she only knew that which could help her achieve her goal, and that which couldn’t. If she were to proceed, she had to shed former moral compunctions and understand that they only held her back. Using the knowledge gained, the fledgling hunter completed her pilot hunt.
The first ritual, the one to test an initiate’s mettle, was prepared for her. She had experienced agony, but the Blinding was unlike anything she had felt before. Valsera closed her eyes to the world she had known for millennia, and awoke with a new sense of perception, focused vision. Her master gave her little time to recover between then and the Binding. She had to hit the ground running, and was thrust into the second ritual as soon as she was capable of undertaking it. A blazing Infernal, a demon she had never been able to take down on her own before, was bound to her. She gained the ability to evoke the demons’ own powers, and spent much of her time growing proficient in their use.
The marking ritual was completed alone, with instructions laid out by her master, who found himself called away on an urgent matter. Strict curves and sharp angles were burned into her skin, thus completing her preliminary training. The scarring faded, leaving behind an undercoat of indigo to the marks.
Valsera’s skin had turned several shades darker since the trials began, and was beginning to take on a dry, tough quality. Her nails were similarly affected, and her hair lost some of its hue and life. She could do little but think of herself as a weapon designed for the destruction of demons; one that had been sharpened and refined specifically for the task. It was nothing more than a dab of irony that she was starting to resemble the creatures she hunted.
The coda to her ordeal was a straightforward mission: She would locate and put down a demon hunter who had succumbed to corruption, and from there commence her solitary training. Her master had left an adequate breadcrumb for her to follow, but it was bitter end to the beginning of her new state of being.
Since then, Valsera has continued to learn and develop her abilities, becoming a proficient demon hunter. She travels where her calling requires, and for the most part, does as her tin describes. Her paramount priority is finding a way to end the threat of the Burning Legion – permanently.
