Dailuu

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Appearance

Dailuu’s rune weapon is a polearm. Only the thin and double-sided blade at the end of the pole is made of purified saronite. The pole itself is made out of steel, and an inscribed line twists its way to the top of the pole; the line has triangles at its edges, and represents the stem of a flower. Other than her belt, which is made of black leather and attached pouches, her armor is made out of steel. The legs, boots, and upper arms are smooth and without pattern while the torso and gauntlets are in separated plates to give the armor a layered look.

Her horns are long and sharp at the end. They grow straight back and there is a large dent in her left horn. She speaks in a deep and raspy voice; the more dread she feels, the raspier her voice gets. She often blames her physical state, claming, “It is a heavy air that wishes to escape my chest.” Another quirk of Dailuu’s is that she still has good manners and practices Draenei customs, and even incorporates them into killing when the hunger reaches an uncontrollable point.

Personality

Dailuu is a cauldron of unwanted emotions, one that is all too often billowing with the heavy smoke of depression. She doesn’t talk much. She would be conversational, but there aren’t many people in the world open-minded enough to talk to her, so she is often fated with silence. She is open to people of most races, but she has to watch each individual and see if she can trust the person to look past who she has become. She is, however, distrustful of Orcs, Blood Elves, and the undead due to events in her past. She has come to remember a lot of her past, but most of what she remembers are the horrors she experienced, and desires more than anything (other than finding her uncle) to remember the good things that have happened to her.

Due to social isolation and having to survive off the wild, unusual noises will startle Dailuu. Sneezes and laughs are prime candidates for the type of sound that would make her jump or prepare to draw her weapon. If she ever has a surprise encounter with somebody she doesn’t want to, she will be very compliant with them and try to get away as quick as she can. While she does seek solitude, she just as eagerly seeks acceptance from those who may give it.

History

One of her friends, a Dwarf and fellow Death Knight, said to Dailuu, “Ah woo’ave killed mahself if ah’d known wha’ ah’d become, but noo’ that ah ‘ave free will! …Well, ah can’t describe it…”

Dailuu closed her eyes for a moment and then responded, “I feel newborn. Of course I don’t remember being born, but I imagine that it must have felt scary, slipping from the warmth of the womb and breathing in the air of cold possibility for the first time.”

That was 12,717 years ago, when her mother gave birth to her on the Oshu’gun, where Dailuu opened her eyes for the first time to see that her family crowded around her in a room too small for their number. They all looked down at her with smiles on their faces as they prepared a bath for the newest member of the family, and she looked up at them and screeched, overwhelmed by the activation of her senses. Nevertheless, she grew through her infancy with grace; when she reached the stage of emotional response, she understood her family’s smiles and smiled back, became happy and calm as they were all the time.

By the time she was a child, the middle child of five sisters, she learned to live without the need for parental attention, but perhaps it was because attention was always abundant in a family as large as her’s. She soon grew the tendency, when none of the family had their eyes on her, to escape their home and roam the ship alone. Despite the punishment she received for doing this, she would do it time after time until she explored most of what there was to see of the Oshu’gun. By that time, she was an adolescent. Her great uncle Gaanzo, who led the family’s trading business on the ship, had been keeping an eye out for Dailuu.

One day they ran into one another while at home. Dailuu stood at the top of a small flight of stairs. He looked up at her and asked, “Dailuu, my restless fireball of a granddaughter, you always want to run around, even as we meditate before the time of rest when you aren’t supposed to. What do you think about putting those restless feet of yours to good use?”

Dailuu sat on the railing of the stairs, slid down to face her great-uncle, and asked, “What do you mean, uncle Gaanzo? I meditate with the family before bedtime!”

“Haha, after your mother chastises you and your sisters to stop playing tag and sit down with us,” he pats her on the shoulder and chuckles. “Ah, but I’ll be straightforward with you. Now I know you are a few years shy of working age, but I want to offer you a job as my deliver pers-”

Dailuu interrupted him, throwing her arms over him and almost falling off the railing, “I would love to!”

Running supplies, orders, and other things for her great-uncle and his coworkers remained her job for the thousands of years she spent on the Oshu’gun. Being a delivery girl gave her a satisfaction no other career could have, she made many friends with the people she delivered for and the job gave her the chance to pester her uncle Troovo who cut crystals or her mother and father who were engineers for the ship. Being a delivery girl came with its downsides. Her great uncle Gaanzo kept his business on board, so whenever the Oshu’gun landed on a planet, she would have to deliver things on and off the ship because. She considered running across new and solid lands the most beautiful moments of her life but came to understand that this feeling was fleeting, as the Burning Legion would always take it away from her. She knew that her life was possibly never-ending, but that something such as the Burning Legion could prove otherwise. Moreover, she found it difficult to repeat the same routine in the same scenery day after day for tens to sometimes hundreds of years until they landed on another planet. She became existentially tired, but her family kept her going.

Then Draenor came into her life 959 years ago, and changed it, for the better at first. Once the Draenei felt secure with the new planet, as the Burning Legion hadn’t found it after a short while as the Draenei were used to, Dailuu’s family moved off the ship and built a large home in a prosperous village. It was Megaalo, a very large and busy village, which was good enough for the family. Things on Draenor were a bit different for Dailuu. At first, she delivered things for the village and befriended the planet’s Orc, and that added a new level of fascination to her life, but after a while, she began to realize the physical manifestation of mortality as she watched the Orc she knew grow up and die. A little over two hundred years passed and Dailuu became something useless to her village, as there were caravans that soon did her job more efficiently.

One day, during one of the family’s bis in die meals (the village was struggling, so they could only eat twice a day), Dailuu said to her family, “I am not so useful to you all anymore. For that I am sorry.”

Many at the table paused their eating and stared at her. Her grandmother set her utensils down and asked, “Why do you say that? Could you give up on yourself and on us all so easily?”

She burst into tears, “There’s nothing to deliver anymore. I can’t eat this food anymore, I’m not earning it.”

Her grandmother looked down at her plate with a sigh and said nothing. Her father said to her, “But don’t you know where to look? Know where you can help?”

Dailuu shook her head, choking as she held herself from crying. Her uncle Troovo turned his head to Dailuu’s father and tapped him on the shoulder, as they sat beside each other, “Vaiiro, I am having trouble hunting alone; the food I bring to the table is scarce. I know that if I had another hunter with me, the catch would be better.”

Her father turned to Dailuu and smiled, “Did you hear that? You don’t have to worry about ‘earning’ your food anymore; you can go out there and catch it with your uncle Troovo!”

“How does it sound?” asked Troovo. “You’ve got endurance, and I just know you’d make a good hunter in no time at all.”

She answered by taking the first bite of her meal. From then on, she began a new life in hunting, learning everything her uncle had to teach her. Though the family could still only afford to eat only two meals a day, the plates were heavier after Dailuu became a hunter under the instruction of her uncle. The family changed as centuries passed by. Her older sisters Taryin and Raissaa soon became the village’s primary diplomats and often had disputes over topics such as how shamanism should be used in their culture. They would occasionally continue a debate from earlier in the day at the meal table, shamelessly butting heads in front of the family. Her younger sisters Zeyva and Cassta would sometimes bring the new clothes they made in front of the family to show them off before selling them. Dailuu realized that if it weren’t for hunters like her uncle Troovo and herself, that the table wouldn’t be the gathering it was, because her family would starve to death if it weren’t for the food they brought to it. She also grew close to her uncle Troovo; for all her life she thought he was quiet and brooding because it was in his personality. After they had a sincere conversation while on the hunt, she learned that he became that way because he didn’t have much to offer on the Oshu’gun but always wanted to invest himself in the lives of his family members.

Dailuu felt the same way Troovo explained he did on the Oshu’gun when she lost use for being a delivery girl, but since she then felt like she was useful once more, again she reconfirmed what she has all her life, that her family is the most important thing to her. She also formed a strong kinship with her uncle Troovo, who always made hunting more exciting then it needed to be. They would often make up stories or jokes and tell them to each other as they were on the hunt. One day, Troovo told Dailuu a joke about an Orc on the way back to the village. The joke was funny, but also coincidental, because when they arrived to the village they found that the Orcs had slaughtered their entire village and family. That was the last time either of them would ever tell a joke.

The devastation for Dailuu and Troovo was tremendous, as the Orcs decapitated almost all the members of the family (they wanted their skulls as trophies and a way to keep count), so not only was their entire family murdered, but they also died an unclean death. The only Draenei they found alive was a man pinned to the ground by a pole. He tried to speak to Dailuu and Troovo, but his face was smashed in and his dying speech was incoherent. They had heard the Orc were acting distrustful towards the Draenei lately but never thought anything like this would have happened. They originally planned to build a small crypt for the villagers but in fear of the Orcs coming back, they only buried the dead. All of this took its toll on the two and they became so weak from physical exhaustion and depression that they barely had the energy to hunt for food. Most of the time, they didn’t feel like eating. They meditated every few hours, trying to find a way to cope with having lost everything that was important to them.

One day, Troovo disrupted Dailuu from her meditation, “I…think we should go now, Megaalo is no longer a village; we mope around on the burial ground of our family.”

Dailuu didn’t move out of her meditation position, or open her eyes, but tears fell out of them.

Troovo took her right hand from its resting place on her knee and held it in his hand, “We must search for other Draenei. I know they are out there somewhere! We cannot continue to live like this.”

“We won’t find anyone. They’ve killed everyone,” responded Dailuu; she turned to Troovo, staring him in the eyes, “so what do we have to live for?”

Troovo nearly collapsed, because he felt the same way, but he tightened his grip on her hand, “Don’t be defeatist, we still have each other. The family has always lived for one another and we’re still going to! They are with the light now, but I’d be damned to think they’d want us to join them anytime soon.”

Troovo mustered all his strength to put hope in Dailuu, she could feel it as he squeezed her hand and did the same for him. They stood up, gathered enough supplies and courage, and left the village. They felt guilty to leave their family, so they took a pinch of soil from the burial site of each member of their family and put it in a pouch to carry with them before they left. Dailuu still remembered the locations of other villages from her time as a deliverer, but only discovered each village to be in the same state of rubble theirs was. Luckily enough for Dailuu and Troovo, they found an old map of Draenor in one of these villages and the number of Draenei villages on the map gave them hope that they might find other survivors.

For three and a half years, they wandered Draenor. On rare occasions, they would come across a battlefield full of Draenei and Orc corpses. Sometimes they would find useful things in destroyed villages, but never any survivors. As it became longer and longer since they left their village in search for other survivors, not finding any became increasingly demoralizing. Dailuu and Troovo would often find one another temporarily paralyzed with depression and hopelessness. Dailuu always had a good physical endurance, but after those three and a half years, she gained emotional and mental endurance as well. Their search finally paid off when they journeyed into Zangarmarsh and encountered a small group of refugees headed to a place they believed to be the last bastion of Draenei civilization on Draenor. They found Telredor.

Seeing all the Draenei there lifted their spirits, and they were able to inhale a breath of fresh for the first time in years, as muggy and humid as it was there. Still, life in Telredor wasn’t easy. Many of the Draenei in Telredor were malnourished and hunters were in high demand. Dailuu and Troovo claimed to be skilled hunters, but proving themselves wasn’t easy as game was hard to come by in Zangarmarsh. When Dailuu and Troovo were by themselves they were well fed because they only shared a catch between themselves, but now they had to share with up to seven or eight Draenei per catch. Dailuu learned in Telredor that even if these Draenei weren’t family that they were something worth protecting. She was proud to be Draenei in a time when her race struggled to remain extant.

They spent a little over twenty-six years in Telredor after their arrival before they learned of plans to escape the place where they had struggled for so long. They were to fight in order to take Tempest Keep. Dailuu was afraid to go into battle with her fellow Draenei because she had never been in a battle before. However, she knew that every Draenei was expected to fight for the light, and after some persuasion from Troovo, she was convinced to join in the fight.

Their clash with the Blood Elves in Tempest keep was a fearful one. Dailuu and Troovo made it to the engine, but when they arrived, a formidable mage attacked them with all his fury. Dailuu ran one of the Blood Elves into a corner and killed him with her sword, unaware that the nearby mage sent a massive fireball her way. Troovo ran behind her in time to take the fireball to his back, which burned the entirety of it. Enraged, with his heart beating fast due to the adrenaline and pain, he turned around and struck the mage down. Other Draenei arrived in time to defeat the rest of the Blood Elves around them and give Troovo something to wrap his wounds in. They next thing they knew the Exodar had been activated and they were sent through the Twisting Nether.

By the time the Exodar had crashed on Azeroth, Dailuu was lucky to have escaped with only a few scratches. For the next few days, she helped all the Draenei she could while at the same time searching for her uncle. Her efforts paid off and she found Troovo crawling from the rubble with a broken leg. She felt guilty for his injury, took care of him, and blamed herself every time he was in pain. Both spent the next three months recovering and learning about Azeroth. When Troovo was able to walk and sometimes run on his leg, he felt confident that his injuries had healed and wanted to do something with himself now that he felt that way. When he and Dailuu encountered a recruiter for the Argent Dawn, they decided that they wanted to join in the fight against the Scourge, but more so the Burning Legion that destroyed their lives. Having adjusted to the atmosphere of Azeroth quickly, both Dailuu and Troovo were screened able-bodied and enlisted into the Argent Dawn.

For the next six months they fought as marksmen, but weren’t proving very useful for killing off the Scourge. They decided that by the time they have been on Azeroth for a year, they wanted to have slaughtered many members of the Burning Legion and the Scourge. They hadn’t shown that they had training with a sword to their general so he denied them permission to engage in close combat, but when they went to his templar and showed him that they could use a sword, they were allowed to fight on the battlefield. Dailuu wasn’t very confident about close combat since her run in with the mage on the Exodar, so she planned on staying far away from Troovo in the battle; she didn’t want him to be hurt because of her mistakes.

“If it’s a fireball they send, then it’ll be me it hits this time,” she told herself.

The Scourge outnumbered them in their first front-line battle and it wasn’t a fireball that hit Dailuu, but a large steel mace. She took it to the left side of her head and it dented her horn and bashed her skull in. Was she dead? She didn’t know. She sat on the fence that separated life and death, unable to comprehend any of her senses. Just as she felt her consciousness fading away, she could see a green glow surrounding her and a disfigured undead peering down at her. That was the last thing she remembered before she became a Death Knight. For the time following that event, she would serve the Lich King. She watched as her puppet of a body killed more than a hundred innocent people. She wanted to put a stop to it, but as she couldn’t remember who she even was anymore, she was unable to control herself. It wasn’t until after the battle at Light’s Hope Chapel when she was freed from the Lich King’s control.

While slowly struggling to regain most of her memory, she journeyed and fought with the Knights of the Ebon Blade. Even among the Death Knights, she was a rare sight, and not many talked to her. There were a few other Draenei, but they kept to themselves in the same way she did. As time moved on she remembered and did the things she used to do every day, such as meditation. One night, as she was meditating, a Dwarf asked her what she was doing she replied, “I can still feel the blessing of Naaru within me but I no longer understand how to follow the light.”

By the time the Knights of the Ebon Blade took Acherus, the Dwarf and Dailuu had become friends. After the Knights of the Ebon Blade earned their victory in that battle, Dailuu and her Dwarf friend were sent to rejoin their people, but Dailuu hadn’t any idea where to go. The Dwarf spoke of returning to her family and her worries over whether or not they would accept her as she was now, and Dailuu suddenly remembered her uncle Troovo. Dailuu told her that if her family didn’t accept her that she should feel free to wander the world with her, but after some hesitance and persuasion she was allowed to reside in Ironforge once again.

Dailuu gave her farewells to her friend and began her wandering across Azeroth, looking for her uncle Troovo while struggling to deal with her hunger to kill; she hopes that one day she or somebody else will discover a cure for the hunger altogether, even if such a hope is a far stretch. Lately, a profound struggle of self-control has been bothering her: if she isn’t able to stop killing and find Troovo, then she thinks it would be best to put an end to her own life.

In the past year, she has searched the world for Troovo to no avail. The reason that she can't find her long lost uncle is because she finds it difficult to communicate with anyone who isn't a Death Knight like her. Jobless, and alone, she befriended a laconic Death Knight who said everything that he needed to say in one word responses. Together, they traveled as mercenaries. When the Shattering happened, she and her accomplice were staying in a small village. The earth below this village split into many pieces and most of the structures were destroyed, burying people underneath crumbled rooftops. With all the wounded she could gather, she loaded them into a wagon and ran them into a nearby village where they could get better medical assistance. She was split up from her accomplice after this happened, and hasn't seen him since.

Skills and Abilities

She is both a strong huntress and warrior. She prefers to use her rune weapon to the many weapons she has learned to use. She is a very fast and enduring runner, as it’s what she spent most of her life doing. As a Death Knight in Azeroth, she has learned to stay out of sight rather than in sight for her own safety. Looking like a demon with glowing eyes has forced her to become sneaky.

Being an undying, the ways of Blood was the best way to utilize her body to its full potential. She still understands how to wield these powers but has barely any use for them anymore. Occasionally, she will wander upon an animal dying of disease and use a blood strike on it to end its misery quickly.

Dailuu

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