Elrohir

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Horde Lord Elrohir Seregon
300px-FirewardenWylandKaslinth.jpg
Player Grogloki
Gender Male
Race Blood Elf
Class Fel Sworn
Age 1,937
Height 6'6"
Weight 185 lbs
Eyes Emerald Green
Hair Blondish Silver
Affilliation(s) House Seregon, Silvermoon, The Horde
Occupation Head of House Seregon
Relative(s) Kanade Seregon-(Youngest Daughter), Elihannara Seregon, Ciaphas Seregon, Daedre Seregon
Companion(s) Flatom (His Fel Guard), Gigamosh (His Apprentice)
Alignment Evil
Status Alive

Appearance

Elrohir can be seen wearing any various amounts of expensive noble robes. He often dawns bright reds and greens, they remain his favorite colors of choice. However at times he has been seen wearing purples and gold. The warlock may also be seen carrying a staff from time to time although he prefers to work with hands and relies little on arcane anchors such as staffs, wands, and offhand tombs. He was taught, “If your power does not come from you, then it is nothing but a crutch on which you will lean for eternity.” Famous words from his father. He has long flowing silvery blond hair and his features are rather handsome for being so old. He is well muscled for a caster and his body remains in peak condition for his old age.

Other: He wears his house ring on his right hand, he had it enchanted to help better protect his soul during certain summoning rituals. (The ring holds no real bonus in anyway.)

Family

Brother (Tavarius Seregon: Deceased)–All family members cousins and distant relatives were forced to take the House name even in marriage, Lord Elrohir has forbidden anyone with his families bloodline involved to use another name. He also bore three Sons and two Daughters. Though they have mostly been kept from too much spot lighting among the others of Silvermoon their presence hasn't gone unnoticed especially the deeds of his eldest Son who has carved out a very well earned reputation among the socialites of the Noble circles. His youngest child Kanade is kept from the public eye in most cases and is fiercely guarded by her Father, few get close to her without his approval... and live to talk about it. Elrohir loves his children for their steadfast loyalty to him and their love of their Elven heritage, he guides them with an iron mind and a firm hand in their teachings making them each a force to be reckoned with all their own.

Personality

Elrohir has a cold icy presence for those who do not know him. There is something eerily wrong with this Elf and he does little to hide his brash and unforgiving views on life. He has ruled his family with cruelty and malice for centuries. They both love and fear him. Elrohir’s temper has been known to rule when it comes to dealing out punishment for a failed act or falter within his own family. He killed his own brother for allowing the family to slip into the shadows along with the other Noble Houses. His rage is best described by what his Father called him as a boy: Bloodflower. Lord Elrohir's large physical appearance and sleek toned body while beautiful take on a much different appearance when he lets his temper take a turn towards his violent side. Years of dealing in Silvermoon's political circles and practices in the arcane have made his will hard and his mind sharp. Elrohir is known for toying with his prey before delivering the killing stroke both in social debates and arcane duels. He has zero mercy for those who cannot take care of themselves and will exploit those who can to the fullest. He is both smart and determined in political arenas and will do his best to maneuver among these circles.

History

Elrohir Seregon was born into the noble house Seregon to a Mother who died shortly after his birth and a Father he began to view as weak shortly thereafter. As soon as the boy could speak clearly and function normally his Father began noticing that his son was growing fast and already towered among the other children. His strength grew with each passing month and his intellegence was far surpassing the other youths of his age. While other boys and girls his age would study for short periods of time El made it his business to request study times and teachings from his Father. The choice of where to send him was simple. His first steps towards becoming Lord of the House were set in motion as he was enrolled into the Magisteriums school of the arcane knowledge.

The sun shone brightly that morning, El gathered his belongings and headed to the academy to begin his studies in the arcane arts. Streets hummed and buzzed with life as he darted through them an excited youth ready to explore the secrets of the arcane. Trailing behind him was a smaller elven boy, “Hey El! Wait up!” El looked back and shook his head, “Can’t! I don’t wanna be late.” His pace increased. The young Elf’s heart raced with joy at the promise of a bright future. After a few more city sectors he finally reached the towering spire of Silvermoon’s famous Magus Tower. It stood erect and bold, like a spear reaching to part the heavens. He thought to himself, “This is where I become a man. One day I’ll be so great that even Mother shall hear of my deeds in the life beyond.” El lifted his bag over his shoulder, took a breath and marched through the doors not to return again until graduation day.

Studies had become grueling; he studied almost every waking moment. The only rest the boy received was for breakfast and dinner. El had rid himself of his boyish innocence here in the tower and had lost himself completely in his quest for graduation. He became a well versed duel expert and even took on some of his upper classmate’s work to further his knowledge.

El sat alone in the study hall again, as he usually did this time of night. The boy had to prepare for his last duel of the year against a boy who had bested him several times before in class. This he could not allow. He –would- not allow. El scanned the pages of the ancient tome feverishly for a hidden answer, a spell, advice, something he could use against this boy. He found nothing. But wait! His eyes stopped on a piece of parchment folded near the back of the book and stuffed hard against the spine in between the pages “Huh?... What’s this?” With a shaken hand he grasped the folded paper and looked around as though he had stolen something. His eyes lit up with joy, it was a spell… a very old spell. El almost hummed to himself as he shut the book and shoved it back into its home on the fifteenth shelf of a grand bookcase. He raced to his room where after sliding under his bed he decided to crack the note open and read it. It was a dangerous spell but if performed correctly it would freeze the target’s feet in place and prevent him from moving. El was so excited he barely slept.

The next waking morning brought class as usual and then studies. It was time. The duel was set to take place at the end of the teaching day and many had gathered to view it. El stretched before as he always did to loosen up his muscles and prepare his mind for the coming pain. Another boy shorter than El stood across from him and shouted at the youth, “Hey! You ready this time pretty boy!” El’s blood was already up at the insult. His hands steady to defend, “Give me your best shot little fool!” With a shout of a spell the runt sure did do just that. A small purple dart leapt from his hand and crashed into El’s shoulder. A painful grunt was heard as the young Elf spun to defend it but was a second to late and crashed to the floor writhing in agony. The boy laughed as his spell hit home. Hate fueled El as he stood, he despised this boy. El hated him for everything he was. He was small, ugly, weak, and most of all… unprepared. El shot a hand at the boy; the words he spoke were old. The spell conjured into effect. Ice quickly grew around the boy’s feet and clamped him down hard. One of the high Magi shouted, but it was too late “Wait! Don’t!” A second attack left El’s hand as his face grew dark with hate. The fire ball was large, about the size of melon and soared with force. The boy cried out as it struck him and ignited him in flames; quickly one of the other Magi jumped up and summoned his water elemental to put the boy out. Over half of his body was charred and burned. The assembly cast a dark glare in El’s direction both of shock and anger. They were all stunned to find El with a smirk on his face and a look in his eye that they had not seen before. El was quickly removed from the program but later allowed to return after his Father paid a large sum of money to the Magisterium.

Years rolled by and most steered clear of El. He made no new friends and was not allowed to eat with the rest of the student body at meal time. They claimed it was for his benefit, but he knew better. The council of Magi viewed him as a disease at the school and was afraid his black mark would spread to the rest. However there was a girl for whom he had fallen, she had a knack for the darker things in life as he did and the two spent many hidden nights with each other. The two studied and explored other avenues as did most young adults; their exploration was rewarded as she became pregnant. Elrohir continued to study and train as did she until her pregnancy went wrong, her body began to fail her and after she had the child she passed on into the next life. El was pained and confused on what to do. His Father finally stepped in seeing his son’s pain. Elrohir’s Father found a family to care for the child but it was El who departed the last bit of care advice to the man at the exchange, “His upbringing will be monitored by me… And if he is not trained in a strict manner then I’ll pay to wipe your bloodline from Azeroth forever…” The words haunted the new man as he took El’s son but he gave his word to raise the boy as Elrohir had instructed. Several years passed by and El finally took his leave from the College though he did not celebrate with the rest. El simply took his official papers home and pledged his service to his father as he entered his mild aged adulthood.

Time passed and El became a well versed politician for his family. Although a secret bitterness grew in his heart as his Father remarried and bore another boy. El grew to hate his Father as he cherished the new boy more and more. Soon El was cast aside as the lesser son. He moved away from Silvermoon to the surrounding woods where he sank deeper into his sea of hate and arcane experiments. El had become a very powerful Magus and was viewed as such among his people, except his Father who seemed to forget all about him.

It was a hot summer day when El got the news. The figure was wearing the traditional clothing of House Seregon’s messenger’s and the news he had was grim. El was working on a new spell that he was creating. A knock came at the door. His head jerked as his concentration broke, “What?!” El shouted. A voice rang out, “I am a messenger of your House my Lord. I come with grave news.” El’s heart sank at the thought of something actually happening to his Father. He quickly laid down his scroll and darted to the door opening it “Come in and deliver your message swiftly servant.” The Elf nodded and entered. El stood silent his arms folded over his robes as he listened. The messenger began his reading with a clear of his of throat, “I regret to inform you that your Father has passed away via methods unknown to us. Your family requests your presence at his memorial two days from now.” With that the messenger rolled the scroll up and stood awaiting orders. El was stunned, he had grown to hate the man but now that death had actually struck him he couldn’t help feeling sad. He waved the messenger off with his left hand and shut the door behind him as he left. A second thought crept into his vast mind, “Am I to rule our House now?... I am the oldest son…” Chills came over him at the power within his grasp. His Father was both popular and well respected among some of the most powerful circles in Silvermoon. What could he do with such power? El’s mind raced over the next few days as he planned his family’s future moves for the coming weeks.

The day of the memorial was at hand and El stood next to faces he hadn’t seen in years. His vision fell on a face he hated… a face that haunted his visions of love and honor for his Father. It was his brother, even now El wanted to strangle him. But he refrained. One of the Magi was speaking kind words for his Father and he would not interrupt him, after the speech the Magi turned to the family and spoke words that made El’s blood boil “And now I give you his most beloved son Tavarius.” A roar of applause went up through the court yard. El’s fist tightened. His brother spoke a few kind words, “Though my Father’s death is felt by us all, we should rejoice in this time. We look forward to a bright future with our family.” El was anticipating the worst, if this fool had been named heir instead of him you could most certainly bet a large fire ball would soar to the podium. But the words that came next shocked him, “I welcome my beloved brother and the new Lord of House Seregon to speak for you.” A roar of approval was heard echoing through his mind. El was completely caught off guard as his body auto piloted him towards the podium. Upon reaching the stage he was greeted by a firm hand shake from his brother. El stood stunned for a moment as he turned to face the crowd. His mind ran over everything that happened between his Father, brother, and the love he missed for so many years. The words came like dark thunder, “Yes brother I am the new Lord of House Seregon. Through my hardships I have endured in life I have developed this armor you see before you.” El stood erect and proud as his blonde hair fell loosely over his shoulders, “It is with this armor that I will defend –my- House. It is with my unmatched mind that I will bring glory to –my- House. It is through my sheer iron will that I will lead –my- House, into the future and towards glorious things. My… House, will grow as legend here among us in Silvermoon. And we as a people will grow.” The sound of a thousand cheers shook the court yard as El slowly lifted his arms and took a bow falling back in line. He could swear stepping into the head spot of the family line that one of the Magi whispered to another, “And now we’ll see what metal the boys made of.”

El quickly gained a firm political foothold in Silvermoon as he conversed with the Magisterium often and extended his family trades further and further bringing more income into his house than most had seen before. He was smart, educated, deadly cold, and determined not to fail. Other Noble Houses took sight of this and began to work with him. Society prospered in Silvermoon until horror struck them in the form of the scourge. Most all of the Noble houses were decimated in the attack and all but a few still remained after. Doom loomed over his House and El would not allow it to crush everything he had worked for. He began withdrawing back into his arcane studies leaving his brother in charge of the estate.

El travelled to a place far beyond Azeroth to the newly found Outlands. It was here that he allowed his need to rule and hate control his mind as he descended deeper into the dark parts of his soul. It was here that he learned to commune with demonic forces that promised him both power and wealth should he serve them. Without hesitation the power hungry El began his work as a warlock for the Burning Legion. This partnership brought him to war with the House of Novalight another great House in Silvermoon. The war was short but devastating on both sides. Many lives were lost to the shadowy conflict. His wish to bring his people to power under his rule ended shortly after this as he slowly discovered that the Legion wished to use his family in a plot to enslave his people under their own control. Elrohir quickly turned his back on the Legion and so became their enemy. As Elrohir studied feverishly to find a way to protect his House he stumbled across a mysterious bit of information about an old friend who had also turned his back on the Legion. For his crimes the Legion imprisoned him for eternity within a deep cavern in Shadowmoon Valley. Elrohir left quickly telling no one of his plans. Once Elrohir arrived in Outlands he began his long search for the demon lord known as Marius. After a few close calls Elrohir managed to free the demon from its prison in exchange for training and knowledge into the dark gift of becoming a Fel Sworn. Marius agreed not to kill Elrohir and train him if and only if he would help Marius fight the Legion whenever he called upon Elrohir or his great House. The Warlock agreed to the terms and so studied under the hellish fiend learning the darker parts of the dark arts. Through Marius’s blood Elrohir was able to tap a powerless well that he had never known before. His abilities were heightened and vaulted to new levels. Marius showed him new spells and different avenues on which to cast them. Studies were intense and took Elrohir back to his days of loving the arcane arts. The Warlocks head quickly began to fill with new ideas and developments in the realm of fel magic and the spells he was learning far surpassed those which he already knew. Marius was a harsh teacher and cared little for sleep, rest, and recuperation. Which left Elrohir feeling run down, but with Marius’s blood flowing through his veins he pressed onwards. Upon the completion of his training in the realms of summoning, destruction magic, fel magic, transmutations, and so many more Marius left him with one phrase “When I call… You will answer for these dark gifts I’ve given you… Or I will end your precious House.” Elrohir took the warning with a nod. After nearly a year of being absent he set out to return home in order to lead his family once more towards greatness

Skills and Abilities

Elrohir was a master in destruction magic at an early age and has since taken those talents to all new levels through his training with the demon Marius. His ability to cause great harm to any he faces is what has made him a feared and respected Warlock among many casters and warriors alike. Elrohir focuses on harnessing his rage and hate. He uses his emotions to fuel his vast arsenal of destruction spells. His advanced knowledge into the dark arts has given him access to a wide range of both harmful and helpful spells allowing him to augment himself through demonic means or destroy obstructions that get in his way. Elrohir has also studied ritual casting for well over three hundred years and could be considered a master in that area as well. Over his nearly two thousand year old life span he has collected many other talents with wands, staves, swords, and daggers. Elrohir takes a special love in the realm of fire magic and has created many spells unique only to him using his dark intellect. The training he has taken as a Fel Sworn has granted him augmented Warlock abilities and given him the power to open his mind to the vast array of dark magic that those in the average school of destruction have no connection with. Elrohir's ability to wield these great powers has earned him many titles and left those doubting his resolve in ashes.