Durien

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Information

Player: SputnikRising

Character Full Name: Durien Thunderbeard

Character In-Game Name: Durien

Nickname(s): While he does not prefer the name, Duri was used by his brothers and the rest of his family during his upbringing. It has faded with time, along with his isolation.

Association(s): Former Lordaeron and the Alliance

Race: Dwarf

Class: Priest

Age: 89, born in the year -57

Sex: Male

Hair: Durien's hair, which is almost forever confined behind his armored apparatus, is a combination of matted, blonde hair, and a tangled mess that with a bit of work, could resemble facial hair. The remaining hair on his head is balding, the combination of accidents and the years of it pressed against his helmet. It is usually mangled and is ripping in many spots, leaving behind the pockmarked remains of a what was once golden and flowing. The beard is usually in the same squander, pressed against the breathing chamber and decaying in the same manner.

Eyes: Durien has dull, blue eyes. They don't remind anyone of the ocean or the sea, they just are an undistinguishable blue tone that seems to blend in with the rest of his face. As with most of his physical features though, his eyes are downplayed by the fact that he rarely, if ever, shows them to anyone. The only people who really know his true eye color, are those who knew him before the accident, and before the fall of Lordaeron. Many of these people are now dead though, and the few that remain may not recognize him as the dwarf from Stratholme.

Weight: Gaunt is the best way to describe Durien. While most dwarves are prescribed as husky, or portly, Durien is very thin, and it is hard for him to do a lot of the strenuous activity that dwarves are normally capable of. While not sickly, he is still distinctively different then dwarves of his stature.

Height: Durien is 5'1, which is above average for most dwarves. This, combined with his irregular weight, cause him to look distorted and add to the spindly look that he often portrays. He is a voracious eater though, and he prefers the taste of alcohol, although he forbids himself to drink it because of his religious views. There is no cure for his body's awkwardness though, and he seems destined to have to deal with it as an insecurity for the rest of his life. Thankfully, his strong self esteem is supplemented by a strong conviction in the Light.

Other: The priest carries only a few other things. Because of his condition, it is hard for him to be burdened down with a lot of things. He has a few hymnals and tomes that were taken during the chaos of the fall of Stratholme, along with a small pack of herbs and medicines that he considers to be an extension of the power wielded by the Light. A sturdy and reliable mount still has yet to be found, and he relies mostly on human steeds, feeling them to be more comfortable then the hard backbone of a dwarven Ram. An adept tailor and enchanter, he carries a few tools for the trade.


Alignment: Neutral Good


Appearance

Despite his many abnormalities, the one thing that always remains consistent about Durien, is his garments, and what he is seen in. Due to an accident during the Third War, the priest will forever be trapped in a special breathing contraption that was made with his situation entirely in mind. It is an entire body suit, and he is unable to wear anything else because he would die if he were to remove his helmet. This, which makes him such a liability in battle, is surprising because of his faith in the Holy Light. For a priest who has dedicated himself to his craft, it seems that in many other's eyes that the Light has deserted him and left him as a frail, and dying man. With his armor in place though, it remains to be seen how his life will pan out. Unable to take it off, and its crafter killed in the siege on Lordaeron's Capital City, it seems that Durien will never break free from its bondage.


Personality

A pious and devout man before his unfortunate series of events, he has remained so afterwards. Committed to the virtues of the Church of the Holy Light, Durien is never above serving the Church's mission and the misfortunate who still remain in the Plaguelands and in former Lordaeron. He is kind and friendly, and will never make mention of his situation. He is not the type of person who wants people to feel bad for him and pity him, thereby offering him some sort of special treatment. Instead, he will not often tell those in his company, preferring to only make mention of it with necessity.

Durien is always marked though, by an innate sadness. While it is not viewable from his mask, he is a very tired and overwhelmed man who takes it upon himself to cleanse Lordaeron of its sickness. Somewhat isolated from humanity, he has taken a vow to live the life of a hermit and to heal the land slowly but surely. This puts him at odds with many Scourge that still retain control of the Lordaeron subcontinent, and he has a supreme hatred for the Scarlet Crusade. He sees them as crazed zealots who although have a strong mission, are consumed by themselves and will never accomplish the salvation that he prays will someday be on the horizon. With the remainder of his years, Durien surmises that he will continue to wander the wreckage that was once his homeland, and try to rebuild some semblance of it.


History

The Thunderbeard family was one of the many Dwarven groups that lived in diaspora in Lordaeron. In fact, in the metropolis that was once Stratholme, the Thunderbeards lived in a district, or community, that tried to recreate Dwarven life in Khaz Modan. Reminiscent of the Dwarven District of far-away Stormwind, the Dwarves of Stratholme enjoyed a separate identity, while still calling themselves servants of the Lordaeron crown. Durien was born into this lifestyle, into a large clan that was led by an armor-smithing patriarch.

The beginning of his life was uneventful. Stratholme was prosperous, and its citizens were treated to wealth in a flourishing economy. Durien, who displayed an aptitude for the Holy Light from an early age, attended classes at the Crusaders' Square. His family, members of the Church of the Holy Light, encouraged his studies, and paid for him to be admitted to the prestigious parochial school in Capital City, Lordaeron. Scouring ancient tomes and recording prayers and testaments daily, this life continued for Durien until the outbreak of the Second War and the arrival of Stormwind refugees on the shores of Lordaeron.

While many priests noted the massacring of Abbey priests and took up maces and shields, Durien preferred his monastic life. He tended to the wounded during the early years of the war, and as the Horde encroached on Lordaeron, he become cloistered in the city with many of the other priests. Caring to the sick, and monitoring the few epidemics that occurred with the influx in the population, Durien survived the Second War by not being extraordinary. He was no war hero, not even a soldier. He was a man of the Light who cared for those that needed him...nothing more.

This all changed though, during his homecoming after the Second War. Settling down as one of the many priests in the overpopulated Stratholme religious sector, he found himself unprepared with the arrival of Arthas and the Culling that no denizen was spared from. The city was burning, and its citizens being purged, Durien was not ready for the entailing suffering, and did all that he could to alleviate the pain of his neighbors. But, as the city imploded into orgies of blood and flesh, Durien could not go outside without battling ghouls and Arthas' frenzied men. It all changed for the dwarf though, on a routine day in the Market Square.

Durien, tending to the wounds of a few peasants, was suddenly trapped as the building collapsed around him. The building had begun to be attacked by Mal'Ganis' siege weapons, and the plague of the undeath slowly enveloped the timbers of the structure. Durien, used all the powers of the Light he could to save himself from being consumed by the plague, and when he awoke, he was being carried on a gurney outside the city. Many survivors had begun to flee the ruins of Straholme, and make an exodus to Capital City where safety could be assured. Durien, who was hooked up to some artificial machine, could barely move. When he arrived in the city, he passed out, and awoke several weeks later, encased in his suit. The creator, a brilliant Gnome, informed him of what had happened. The Light had miraculously saved him, and it was only by its intervention that the creator could build him the suit. The plague had ravaged him internally, and the suit allowed him to breathe and function normally.

Resigned, and despondent, Durien did all that he knew was wrong. He left the city, feeling himself as an outsider, and wandered into the wilderness. When news reached him of the Capital's destruction and the King's death, Durien knew that he should commit himself to his family and people's legacy. The Light, which he had felt disfigured him, had also saved him. And he, in his heart, knew that it could save this land. Even if he never lived to see its rebirth, Durien knew that he must do all in his power to try.