Zaaneo

Information

Player: Ronin

Character Full Name: Zaaneo of the Arcane (Zah-ney-oh)

Character In-Game Name: Zaaneo

Nickname(s): None as of yet, since she hasn't truely interacted with the "nickname fond" races of Azeroth

Association(s): Draenei people. Hopefully soon, any/all Magi Associations of the Stromgarde and Stormwind Cities.

Race: "Exiled Ones", or Draenei.

Class: Arcane Specialized Magi (Mage)

Age: Why, she couldn't be a day over fifteen thousand, I'm sure! (She's actually a good 17,688... give or take a few decades)

Sex: The horns, short tail, small tendrils, and curves would suggest Female, but both the boys and the girls look SO alike... (hah *eye roll*)

Hair: Currently colored a deep brown, kept long, and brushed to one side elegantly. (Actual hair color's white, due to heavy Arcane usage, but she keeps it altered. It reverts to its true shade when she's unable to hold the minor spell, either through exhaustion (rare), or from great distraction (equally rare).)

Eyes: Bright Silver, but closer to glowing, pure white.

Weight: She's around two hundred... Yeah... (247lbs. She's a tall girl, and no stick figure, after all.)

Height: She's several inches greater than seven feet tall. (aprox. 7' 5", maybe 7' 6")

Alignment: True Neutral (While she has no desire to cause trouble for anyone, including breaking laws or hurting people, her first and main priority is to increase her knowledge of the Arcane, and become a more skilled Magi. She still remains vigilant, however, heeding the words of her elders and the Naaru. She knows the dangers Magic brings, and knows the temptation (and subsequent punishment) of useing Fel Magics, and would never do so (unless it was the ABSOLUTE only way to save a life she valued... And if she didn't plan to survive long enough to suffer the consequences).)

Appearance

She's been known to wear robes and jewelery, all of a magical nature, whether it's produced from mystical threads and wondrous stones, or is simply enchanted to contain potent amounts of Arcane energy. She doesn't care to wear anything -too- flashy, but it's utility above impressions with her, and she'd rather adorn clothes that are effective towards her career over something low-key, or alternatively, excessively proper for a high-class situation.

Personality

She considers herself a "true Eredar", believing that the Man'ari (or Demonic Eredar, a label the people of Azeroth are more familiarized with) should be referred to as the "Exiled Ones" for their choice to follow a twisted, evil path. Yet, anger at the sins of her forefathers have not corrupted her heart. All emotions and thoughts, no matter how fueled by hatred they might have once been, are now controlled and trained to perfection, and she's able to keep herself in check without even the shadow of difficulty. The main contributing factor to this is doubtlessly her Magi teachings, which always stressed 'control', in all of its forms, less she fall to addiction and eventual corruption.

After centuries of work, she has no qualms about admitting that her greatest weapon is not her magic, but her mind. She considers and plans every move she makes, never growing excited or aggitated, or allowing an ego to block her judgment. This has often led others to consider her "cold", or emotionless, which is quite incorrect. She feels emotions lividly, but has schooled herself to only allow those that are helpful to present themselves to others. Therefore, when others die, she never seems upset. She deals with whatever problem caused the death, or whatever problems the death subsequentially caused, and mourns on her own time.

She regards all people equally at first. The Alliance races will have a hard time making a foe out of her, since she is sure to take her time determining the qualities of an individual, having learned that some put a negative front on to hide shining inner qualities for various reasons. Besides, it's easier to converse with a friend then battle an enemy. As for the Horde, there are some... boundaries that prevent such a free exchange of mutual friendliness. Admittedly, Zaaneo has little time or care for Orcs, giving them perhaps one chance to prove their merit, if they're lucky, before deciding they aren't worth her time. Their Demonic backgrounds and violence between their people, propagated by Demons, does not sit well with her. Furthermore, their weak acceptance into a Demon's Pact, followed by their inability to break free of the curse, stands against everything she believes as a Magi, and therefore she gives them little benefit of the doubt.

Sin'dorei are rated not far above the Orcs, since they, too, have not only given into the Arcane Addiction, but nearly died without it, and readily turned to Fel energy to sustain themselves. In many ways, Zaaneo looks down upon the Blood Elves more than the Orcs, due to their continued indulgence. Besides that, their arrogance gives her a headache. So, to the Twisting Nether with them, for all she cares.

The rest of the Horde is more-or-less acceptable. The Forsaken did not wish to be the monsters they are now, so if they truely desire it, forgiveness can be given, and friendship, if a very strained one, might be forged. Trolls are something to be more weary of. Their barbaric "voodoo" magics don't sit well with Zaaneo, so she'd rather just avoid them if at all possible. Tauren, last but not least, seem like fine creatures, peaceful when possible, and usually kind enough. Or so she reads.

Other: She suffers from insomnia, a side effect of centuries spent working with Arcane forces. She spends many hours every day meditating to compensate for this. On the other hand, she doesn't seem daunted by this, and readily uses her magical prowess whenever acceptibly applicable. She's not above relaxing with a cup of tea (a delight recently discovered on Azeroth) and book both floating before her while her hands are occupied with simultaneously writing something that usually has absolutely nothing to do with what she's reading. She's even been known to read books such as "Modern War Strategies as Opposed to Traditional Warfare" while writing poems on the beauty of Child Birth (she's grown rather fond of writing poems since she arrived on this planet, it seems. She believes herself to be brilliant at it. Unfourtunately, she's wrong... Very... Very wrong.). She also has the irritating tendency to Blink around whenever pondering something, much to the dismay of anyone conversing with her at the time. She's done it so often that when she re-appears, her body remains partially fazed out of the current plane of existance, giving her a ghost-like appearance for several moments before she fully enters her current setting. She isn't bothered by this "lag" of body at all, and doesn't understand why others are. Worst of all is when a conversation is coming to a close, and she plans to move on. She awaits her conversationalist to grow distracted, via turning around, or looking at someone else, so on, and teleports away soundlessly, leaving them dumbfounded as to what just happened. It always puts a smile on her face.

History

Zaaneo was not born when the Prophet Velen had his vision that saved a third of the Eredar people, but she can imagine how horrible a thing it must have been to endure. To have to betray the trust of your friends and kinsmen, and abandon them to their wretched fate, even if it was one they wished upon themselves, would be heartbreaking. Yet, she was alive during their travels from planet to planet, always looking for a place to hide. Always running from Kil'Jaeden. Always running from an evil that hated them so, that would hunt them for all eternity, it seemed. The Draenei girl, still young at the time, could not help but to despair at the knowledge that she, and all she cared about, would likely be burned in a demonic flame, and snuffed out from existence.

Growing up more, Zaaneo learned much from her tutors, and much from the Naaru, yet she did not truely believe in her heart that an "unstoppable Army of the Light" would be formed. That they would be saved by beating the monsters. Believing in the Light, knowing it was a loving, caring. force was one thing, but trusting it to save you against such evil? She could not accept that. And so she turned to a different path. A path that, while likely being the cause of most of those Eredar to turn to Man'ari, seemed more solid in it's strength to her. She chose to become a magi of the Arcane, trusting in a force that her people had known for untold centuries.

Magical training... Such a slow, careful process. It felt good to cast spells. And it was becoming easier, the more she practiced. Yet, she was told, time and time again, to take it easy. To fight the urges to cast spell after spell, until she could cast no more. That flaunting one's magical abilities would lead them to being heavily addicted to it, if they were not prepared for such a thing. So, she listened. She learned.

Centuries seemed to soar by as she practiced, but after a while, she spent most of her time training her mind. At first it was concentrating solely on a single task for hours. Then, it was two tasks. Then a single task, but while performing multiple other activities. Her people had nothing but time, always settling for a time on this planet before hurtling through the Great Dark in the blink of an eye to the next. She found herself able to do seven or eight complex tasks at a time, even though there were consequences. Migraines hit her hard, and out of no where, halting her training for days at a time. Perhaps three tasks at a time is enough, she decided.

She grew older, and as strong as her teachers, eventually. Her mind was sharp, honed, always work. Always. It never stopped. She could never get it to rest, it seemed. In fact, she began to grow very ill as days, sometimes weeks would go by where she would be unable to rest at all. There had to be a way to fix the problem, surely. The suggestion she got was to meditate. But how could she do even that when her mind would not cooperate?

One night, while resting, fighting off a fever brought on by nearly a month's worth of sleepless nights, she stared miserably at her now frail body. The only thing that seemed to make her aches go away was the euphoric feeling of casting magic. So, she focused a spell, but it fizzled out. She sighed, and tried again, blocking out all surrounding distractions, and started to charge a small ball of Arcane energy. She just stared at it, forcing it go remain where it was. When she was brought from this daze, the ball dissipated, and caused her a small amount of grief. Until she noticed she felt considerably better. Then she found out she had been sitting like that for a good day, and should probably eat. She found -that- particularly interesting.

Zaaneo did not grow sick again after that. She spent many an hour simply focusing on charging Arcane energies into the air around her, evidently giving the air an almost mist-like effect. She did not mind the wasted time, though. She had learned just about all she could, and she found meditating more relaxing then she remembered sleep being. Yet, the days where such a thing was acceptable were short lived as their ship, soon to be named Oshu'gun, made its way to its final destination. A planet they named Draenor.

The Orcs were an odd people. The magics they wielded intregued Zaaneo slightly, but never enough for her to make more than an acquaintance out of the brown-fleshed creatures. They seemed peaceful enough, but something about their tribal societies put her off. She was just as happy to remain in Draenei cities and continue practicing her own magic, when she wasn't helping around the various establishments. The two centuries they spent there was really quite nice.

All too soon, it was over. The Demons found the Draenei, and more importantly, the Orcs, turning them into a warmongering race of savage brutes. They attacked and killed many of her people, but there was mutual defeats on both sides, at least at first. And the battles helped to turn Zaaneo from a novice apprentice into a true Arcane Magi, whether she wanted it or not. Truly, she didn't like killing the Orcs, at least at first. Remembering how they used to be, there was more than once that she stayed her spell on a wounded foe, allowing them to leave, or attack and force her hand. Eventually, though, she realized exactly what they represented to her, and laying them low become much easier. Their twisted souls did not deserve any form of mercy, especially when they offered none to any of her people, despite their age. They were beasts, and she put them down accordingly.

It took some more time for a new training to take effect. She found herself hating more and more the Orcs, and knew it was not the way of her people. So, she trained her emotions, forcing the fires of vengeance to be extinguished, replaced by a sense of security about who she was, and what she could do. It took time, but that, again, she had, especially after she fled with the ragged remains of her people, with Velen, their saviour, and hid within the Marsh. She found her new endevour all but successful. After all, she did not want to lose all connection with what made her Draenei, or as she began to consider herself then, true Eredar.

Taking the Exodar was no small task. They fought hard, barevely. Zaaneo removed more than one of those "Blood Elves" that chose to hinder them so. While their ultimate motives weren't clear, and she might have been prepared to forgive them, excusing the action of stealing Tempest Keep as fighting for survival in a shattered, torn world, she felt like changing her mind about them when they took off, and their transdimensional core malfunctioned due to sabotage thanks to these Elves. She decided they were fairly nasty creatures at that point.

Crash landing is never a fun experience, really. While Zaaneo had only done it once, she felt that was sufficient enough an experience to desire never trying it again, if at all avoidable. Losing people you've known for hundreds of years, have fought next to, have saved and been saved in turn, only to watch them get sucked through a tear in a huge, once floating but now plummeting hunk of crystal and metal, to fall hundreds of feet and die from a sudden stop via hard ground, and survive it yourself with only a few bruises and cuts, can be rather... Discouraging to one's hope. Yet, on the other hand, her people had survived demonic influence, near slaughter at the hands of Orcs, and then being flung through the Twisting Nether over an untold distance and sent slamming into a tiny island instead of hitting all the water that surrounded it. That had to say -something- about Draenei luck, right?

Their landing place was ironic, really. She didn't know it at the time, of course, but she learned eventually. She learned that this planet, Azeroth, was the very same that the Orcs marched onto through their Dark Portal. And more over, there were some of the fel corrupted green skined men that held permanent residence here. And more over, those same Blood Elves that made life on this particular place unavoidable were actually from here. So far, things were not shaping up so well.

Zaaneo needed something to take her mind off of her troubles. Practicing magic wasn't possible, since she was efficient enough at it to practice and brood at the same time. And she couldn't meditate all day long. So, she turned to music. She found music to be rather nice, once she paused and really gave it consideration. So, she worked on fashioning herself a few instruments, things she learned from the envoys, who learned such things from the peoples of this planet. A lute, a flute, drum... So many things to go along to a lovely voice. Of course her people knew of music before, but these peculiar tools for making such wondrous sounds were new. And delightful.

She spent much of her time in the forests for the next several months. She thought it was months, anyway. She stopped paying attention to that sort of thing ages ago. Either way, she wasn't allowed to practice with her new instruments around the make-shift settlements. "You're no good at it, I'm sorry! Look, it's irritating the workers, and we need to get these shelters built faster! Speaking of which... Could you perhaps float that support beam into place?" Was generally the responses she received. And worse yet, she was growing tired of blue. Azuremyst was very, very blue. But, she heard of another island nearby, where more survivors had made a settlement. So, she packed up her things, and headed for it.

Red. Lots. And lots. Of red. Well, this was a vast improvement... For around ten minutes. Then it was just as tiresome as blue. Bloodmyst was quite accurate. Again, no matter. She would just switch which one she stayed on daily, so it wouldn't get -too- tiresome. And in the meantime, she had her music! That usually occupied her mind long enough for her not to care. Eventually, she even became able to cast some spells while playing, which then gave her an entertaining show as well.

Well, she thought quite a bit of time must have passed, and she had spent much of it honing her skill. Her fingers were heavily calloused now, lips often chapped, but she was happy. Well, marginally happy. A bit bored that there were so few magically inclined Draenei for her to spend time with. Most were interested in the Light, and being Vindicators, and rushing off to fight the Demons. Zaaneo was through with fighting for a while. She had her fill of blood with the Orc, and was perfectly happy to find something else to occupy her time.

Perhaps it was time to go... She had spent far too much time on these two little islands, and had only caught a few glimpses of the other races her people were apparently allied to. She had heard some things of late. That there was a human city of Stormwind that catered to magery quite adamantly. And after that, there was a new city. One these humans just recaptured. Stromgarde, or some such. There was supposed to be a strong magical inclination there. "Well, perhaps I'll go. I could be just the adventure I need." She said softly to herself, heading for the boat that would take her to a harbor town called Auberdine, or somethng along those lines.