Asaria

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Information

Player: Rimewynd

Character Full Name: Asaria Sunchaser

Character In-Game Name: Asaria

Nickname(s): None he's divulged

Association(s): Has claimed public association with the Kirin Tor

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Priest

Age: 143

Sex: Male

Hair: Nearly-silver, stained with various faint hues

Eyes: Green hued, from the usual sources.

Weight: 120-130 lbs

Height: 5'7”

Alignment: Chaotic/Neutral

Appearance

Asaria almost always wears a robe of some kind – usually ornate – or a long kilt and a vest. For decoration, he wears a few simple pieces of jewelry: an etched silver ring and a silver choker with a smooth-cut amethyst. The rare occasions when he's worn pants, they've always been as a concession to a situation for which a robe simply would not do – such as swimming.

Asaria usually carries a large number of small pouches filled with a very random assortment of things; largely potions and ingredients he's planning on using alchemically, but other oddities as well: small notebooks, the odd holy symbol, trinkets from defeated foes, or anything else he's found particularly interesting. Most of the stuff isn't really useful beyond weighing down his packs, so their contents are often-changing as he transfers items from his person to a vault regularly. Intricate runic tattoos – just a shade lighter than his skin cover all visible parts of his body, and actually run over nearly all of his skin.

Recently he's taken to mage's garb, and calling himself a “Divine Mage”, for who knows what reasons.

Personality

Asaria is (at this point,) a man out for his own interests and concerns, and sees almost everything and everyone he encounters as a tool to be used. He could be called a practicing sociopath – albeit an affable one. The truth isn't that he doesn't care about people however; he cares about them a great deal, and would rather see them do well at their chosen life. Despite this, he decided that his own goals would take precedent over everything else, up to and including the lives and humanity of those around him.

Except when periodically drunk or intoxicated by a potion of his own design Asaria is quite friendly (if often somewhat annoying,) and enjoys talking, eating, and drinking with both friends and strangers. He loves the experience of social interaction, and loves hearing what others have to say on everything from their personal lives to the state of the world in general.

Although it is not readily apparent when speaking to him casually, Asaria is a man of deep-seated and almost unshakable faith. First and foremost among them is the ideal of a dualistic existence in all respects: Frost and Fire; Light and Shadow; and, perhaps most importantly, Tea and Crumpets. Acting as secondary objects of worship for him are the Holy Light and, since the advent of the Sin'Sholai pact, the Forgotten Shadow.

His attempt at loyalty to two different masters hasn't been without its problems. The more he leans to one, the weaker the other gets. Worse, still, is when he attempts to use them one after another and he finds himself suffering what he's termed “feedback”: injury apparently caused by channeling two diametrically opposed energies. Asaria swears that it's due to a current crisis of faith and purpose that he's unable to properly conduct both, but this remains to be seen.

History

Asaria Sunchaser always hoped to live a relatively quiet life.

It was a bit of a shame, then, that nearly everything for the past forty years or so had gotten in the way of that. If he had to pinpoint a start to his troubles it would have been marriage. Not that he blamed it (or his wife,) for anything that happened afterwards. It simply was.

He had been born to reasonably well off parents of a merchant-y persuasion, who he had come to understand as being more clinically interested in him than anything else – he never thought to blame them for it; it simply was. Besides, they provided him with a pleasant enough childhood, what was there to blame them for?

A lot of Asaria's formative thoughts came from his uncle, Thelian, who worked as an Arcane instructor. Although the two did not spend a great deal of time around one another, Asaria enjoyed his uncle's stories of magic and its mysteries, and made occasional mention that he'd like to study such one day. It was something of a disappointment to his uncle that it would take his nephew so long to get there.

As boring as his childhood was, Asaria considered his youth even worse. Beyond his usual schooling his parents expected him to take up a role in the family business as he grew. He didn't have anything against merchants, personally, but found the business horribly dull. Worse – he felt – was the company this often obliged him to keep; the social circles he was demanded to run in by the direction his life was taking. He didn't feel they were bad, per say – he'd simply do anything not to be there. Most of his free time was spent sketching flowers and plants or perusing books in a library – escaping mentally if not physically from his circumstances.

As time moved on, Asaria's interest in plants became more than casual. Manifesting initially as an interest in spices while cooking, his curiosity lead him to begin studying their different properties. At first he only concerned himself with their use medicinally, but in time it developed into a hobby of alchemical experimentation.

It was in his late fifties, amid practicing alchemy as a hobby and mastering the skills he'd need to do well in the fabric business that he met Ballyne and the foundations of his troubles were laid. They met in a library – he was just perusing, she was doing research – and bumping into each other they struck up a conversation which turned into a loose friendship as time went on. For Asaria, it was a chance to talk to someone unconnected with the life he found himself falling into.

In his talks with Ballyne, he eventually disclosed his dislike of his current prospects in life. She found it rather amusing that he hadn't done anything about it, and when Asaria pointed out that he felt like he had no guidance, Ballyne recommend that he consider going into a philosophical career. It was a change after all, and it'd at least keep him occupied while he decided what he planned to do with his life.

Asaria made his decision after a long talk with his uncle, who was delighted at the prospect of steering him closer towards magic. His reaction when he mentioned his decision to his parents was expected and unremarkable. They were upset, naturally, at the loss of an additional asset to their work, but they made no real move to stop him, either.

In the end, Asaria disappointed both is parents and his uncle: eschewing both the Arcane and mercantile, he set himself down the path of becoming a priest of the Holy Light. From his perspective, Arcane was a limiting choice, never mind that their entire lives were spent basking in it. Why limit yourself to only harming others and useful manipulations when you could do all that help people as well?

Asaria turned himself over to the Light, absorbing himself in the study of it and the pursuit of his own powers and faith. During this time, he leaned on Ballyne as a friend – the apprentice enchantress made an apt companion in his mind. Both of them were devoted to their own improvement, driven, and possessed of both strong wills and a desire to test the wills of others.

It was as he was fully invested as a priest that the groundwork for his troubles was fully laid. Although he did work as both a priest and a healer he found himself dissatisfied with the means he had to live by. While he could, in theory, ask his family for some funds the idea lacked any sort of appeal. In the end, his answer spawned out of another discussion with Ballyne: she planned to set up shop as an enchantress and was willing to allow him a space with her, provided he would assist her with the financial aspects of her business and supplement her income with whatever potions and tinctures he could produce. Asaria agreed, although being self trained he was a little leery of the title of “alchemist”.

In time, the arrangement grew more complex. Neither one of them would have called it love nor was it. It was recognition of the sort of person the other one was, and that their combined ability and will would enable them to do things above and beyond that they could do separately. Eventually, at the mild protests of alternately Asaria and Ballyne they settled down into a productive if initially turbulent marriage.

They weathered the Second War without much incident – despite being called on to help tend to returning soldiers, Asaria found himself largely untouched by the war. He was concerned, of course – but it was largely a passing concern. What happened beyond the walls of Silvermoon interested him, but he saw them largely as a distraction from his life – doubly so, after the Second war drew to a close, and he and Ballyne brought forth their first of their two children into the world.

It took the rumors of the cult of undead and the call of his faith and his people to finally rouse Asaria from his people's lands. After much deliberations with Ballyne he left Quel'Thalas to offer his services to the war effort.

Warfare intrigued Asaria. He found the battlefield a welcome change of pace from his usual life – the horror of conflict and the immediate danger he was in were terrifying – but he was thrilled nonetheless. To his surprise, he found he was having fun. After all, he had learned to be a priest of the Holy Light to use it, hadn't he?

Stratholme put an end to the war's ability to amuse him. He walked away from the slaughter, upset and annoyed. He wasn't sure if he hadn't just helped destroy a town without accomplishing or preventing anything. His guilt prompted him to avoid returning home – he had already decided he wouldn't march with Arthas to Northrend – and instead he spent his time joining and traveling with patrols and companies in Lordaeron: offering his services as a healer and wielder of the light for nothing save what he'd need to eat or drink.

He was near Corin's Crossing when the news came: That the Scourge had begun to make a resurgence just to the south, and was working northward. Concerned about the dwindling number of living people left to defend the land he started to make his way back home, intent on returning to his family alive.

It was a few scant days after he got back to Silvermoon that the entire city heard: Arthas was at their door, riding with legions of undead; with no apparent intent to stop.

Asaria survived the waves of undead, but the rest of his family fell behind. Later, he'd learn that Thelian survived as well; but his wife and his children were lost to the destruction. Numbly he did what he could in the wake of the devastation as his people tried to recover.

When the Crown-prince returned, Asaria ignored the opportunity to go with him. He stayed, fighting with the ones who remained behind. He accepted the renaming of his people. In his mind, the Quel'dorei had failed and fallen, the only way to survive would be to find a way to live without the light of the Sunwell.

As the construction truly began to get underway, Asaria closed his door on the world. He neither cared nor wanted to see anything anymore, only to be left alone to think, and to try and make sense of the world. He sold almost all of his possessions that had survived and found forgotten rooms to loiter in, preferring solitude, isolation, and the gnawing pain of his thirst for magic. It was years before he was roused to action again. It was news of Rommath's announcement that stirred him. He was buying bread when he overheard two people talking – and was so stunned he had to ask the shopkeeper for confirmation. He could scarcely believe that he had completely missed their joining with the Horde.

Next time he woke, he ate and dressed himself carefully. He'd even tidied his hair. The night before he'd ripped the mana from one of the broom's he'd coerced into following him down an alley. All in all he felt restored. Ignoring the wound in his heart, and the feeling that he'd somehow left behind his soul he strode out into the city. Asaria decided he'd rested in his sorrows for long enough: the world had changed– his life had been kicked out from underneath him at the hands of a man called Arthas. Maybe, one day, he could find a way to return the favor.