Eluchanar

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Information

Player: Etmosril

Character Full Name: Eluchanar Skybreaker

Character In-Game Name: Eluchanar

Nickname(s):

Association(s): Blood Elves. She has no true loyalty to the Horde whatsoever, and her only acknowledged tie to Dalaran is that they taught her.

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Mage

Skills and Abilities:

I Know Fear: Eluchanar is very effective at weakening others with harsh words. Even when she doesn't go to those lengths, she has a preternatural ability to predict how people will act. It seems as if she learned a thing or two about minds from her Priest mother. (Only works when players have permitted it.)

Age: 283

Sex: Female

Hair: Pale blonde, almost to the small of her back.

Eyes: Fel green.

Weight: 145 lbs

Height: 6'1


Appearence

Usual Garments/Armor: She has a peculiar tic of habit wherein she refuses both formal clothes and casual clothes. The robes, tunics and pants which she wears day to day are elegant due to cut and fabric; not through ornamentation. All of them fit a bit loosely, and dark red is a favorite.

Her ears are pierced at the lobes, but she doesn't ever seem to wear earrings.

Other: Although scrawny as one can expect of a magic-user, she's in very good shape and shows little of her age. There appear to be no weapons on her person.


Personality

Alignment: Neutral Evil.

Eluchanar, if seen outside her natural "habitat" of research and various specializations, seems almost like a nonperson. She speaks little, socializes little, and seems so perfectly, -boringly- normal in interaction and general behavior that she might well serve as a background character to a more interesting individual. This is not helped by the fact that she keeps strict routines by day. Her only odd trait is her extremely precise choice of words.

In her element, she's more interested in being correct than she is in getting along with others. Her authoritarian personality truly surfaces at this point: she wishes to be recognized as a true 'force' of research, and acts as such, sweeping aside the concerns of others. She has an interest in proving accepted wisdom wrong, and though this is technically done to facilitate new and useful research, she seems to enjoy it far too much. However terrible she is for company, it can't be denied that she gets things done. Whether it's improving prosthetics, studying magic, or playing any game of the mind, she puts all she has towards it.

Although she talks in a cool-headed and fatalistic manner, her behavior is something else entirely. She plans often, avoids dangerous situations, and is not infrequently ridiculed for believing in - and preparing for - grim predictions for the future (most of which have been false, and which nobody took seriously). She also gets fairly rustled if any of her possessions or research materials have been moved. And, even though her behavior is toned down while she's working, she's generally regarded as a nuisance.

She has the fairly odd hobby of exploring abandoned or ruined areas, especially when there are things to be taken from them. Places make a great impression on her; to the point where she's tried and failed to both paint and sketch them. Currently, she works off-and-on at a method to create images with no artistic skill. She also has a very strong liking for art, but only when it's not in her house.

She presently works as an Arcane researcher in Silvermoon for a magical academy, and specializes in enchantment. Although this is her official career, she is better known for the work she does off the books; producing workable replacements for lost digits, limbs, and the like. She has a certain interest in the criminal underground, often selling them there without the recordkeeping and quality enforcement required by the Engineer's Union.

She's xenophobic and generally avoids as many other races as possible, regardless of their origin. She's also been cultivating a Thalassian accent so severe that most Common-speakers couldn't understand it to begin with.


History

Eluchanar was the first and only child of the Skybreakers, who'd tried for quite some time to have children. They were both getting well into middle age by the time she was born. Presuming from her poor health that they were too far past their prime, they gave up on any more. Although Eluchanar did grow out of her constant sickness, she was left with the odd impression - impossible for a child to articulate - that she was in fact unwanted.

It was probably an inaccurate impression to start with, and certainly unfounded. But, by the time she was a few years into her education, she was firmly of the belief that she had to somehow make up for her presence. And so she did. It didn't help that her parents were nigh-flawless in her eyes, and knew things beyond what she imagined. She was actually afraid.

By the time she was in her teens, she'd grown the gut to challenge it occasionally. She decided not to train in Dalaran, which was what had been expected of her. As she reasoned, she had inherited too little of her father's magical ability to be anything remarkable. She studied it in Silvermoon, on the side, and only in the areas she was interested in. Her mother's interest in making her a priest were slightly more lucky.

The problem was that she had no real aptitude for what a priest's job required. She did accompany her mother to the Church a few times, only to find herself bored out of her wits, and nauseated by the general forgiving attitude, and "soft" education. Or maybe she just made excuses to avoid admitting she was bad at it, just as she'd done with her father trying to send her to Dalaran.

She did go to Dalaran eventually, when she was somewhat past the age expected of a student. She was fairly aimless: getting predictably good grades, while managing to take nothing to heart, and making few friends. What truly interested her about the place was the way 'forbidden' knowledge mixed itself in with what was taught. But when she actually began going through those 'forbidden' materials, she found them completely unworthy of being banned or hidden. They were not tempting. They were barely even interesting, except for the implications which came with them. By the time she left Dalaran as an accredited mage, she'd gazed into the abyss - and found it lacking.

The years which followed should have been the best age of a normal elf's life. But Eluchanar, whose dislike of what she considered excess happiness and sociability, had other plans in mind. She had her career in mind, all else second. By the time she was a hundred, she'd had about twelve specific vocations - most of them enchantment-related -, and had finally settled down within Falthrien Academy to research.

She passed another hundred and thirty years like this, in the hundred and nineteenth of which her mother died. Her father followed a few months thereafter, after imparting to Eluchanar a few last things. His death by conflagration was presumed to be either accidental, or a means of suicide.

She'd developed a curious new theory of enchantment over the years, which she'd mostly ignored until luck led her to compare the theory, against some peculiar artifacts of the ancient Quel'dorei. And so history became her latest food for thought. Ancient, enchanted Quel'dorei artifacts were off-limits, for good reason, and she had no luck in studying one. She traveled to Lordaeron after that, claiming it to be a 'vacation'. And it was, in the loosest sense: both to find an artifact, and to come to terms with the death of her parents. She settled down within the kingdom, living off funds she'd saved and branching out to find scholars willing to collaborate, and acquire permissions from people who owned the land.

It ended up being fairly fruitless. She had, with the assistance of human and Quel'dorei alike, found an artifact or two, but nothing remarkable. Just a few statuettes, most of them broken, a red stone obviously foreign to the local geology, and a cast-off piece of jewelry. Nothing which would prove her correct or incorrect. She left Lordaeron a few years later, and, with her usual disdain for clutter, donated most of said artifacts to a Silvermoon museum.

That was when things began to change. Perhaps the impact of her parents' deaths - particularly the last, gruesome one - had finally caught up with her, now that her mind was unoccupied. She sank like a stone. She had none of the inspiration, the incisiveness her work had once been known for, and no real will to pursue it any longer. Any dreams she had invariably revealed disasters: the continents breaking as it had in the Sundering, the sea devouring ships and islands, and the skies themselves firing down meteorites, and, most often, herself burning. Sometimes it was Silvermoon instead.

With this new taste of disaster never letting up, she looked at Silvermoon with new eyes. Many of the people who lived there had survived disasters already, in the form of war. There was always warfare, always to prevent disaster, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she owed the fighters her life. She began attempting to make artificial limbs very soon after that. It didn't make the fears leave, but it made her feel, in a way, that she was being helpful against them (and the large amounts of money the prosthetics commanded didn't hurt either). She was reaching mastery by the time the Siege of Silvermoon arrived.

She had long expected a disaster to occur, and she was prepared. Not stopping to consider others, or how she might be of use to the others, she fled.

The few people left alive seemed disgusted by her when she emerged again, expecting to assist in recovery missions. What she had just done was a grave offense, after all: a cowardly act on par with Dar'Khan Drathir's own act of betrayal. She did assist, of course, but her fear was growing. And so were the nightmares.

Traveling had eased her mind last time she'd done it. And, perhaps it would again. Soon after the remaining population of Quel'dorei was 'stabilized', she left to travel. The destination mattered little to her. She went to Tirisfal first, to find the borders guarded by Forsaken. And from there, she continued to wander: always southward, never resting, never with a destination in mind. By the time she'd reached Stormwind, she'd realized. There was no escaping it.

In a last desperate bid, she joined a guild of adventurers meant to travel to southern Kalimdor and join forces against an unknown menace. The motive for it remains unknown, but if asked, she generally claims she wanted either to forget, or to die.

As it stood, she was quite far from dying. She'd never been in a desert before, but grew to like it to some degree. The same occurred with the jungles of Un'goro. By the time they reached the final destination of Silithus, she was beginning to think in her logical way again. It would not do to leave things like this unrecorded. She broke off from the rest, recording as much as possible. Though she'd come close to dying many times by the time she encountered intelligent life again, she made it to the Gates of Ahn'Qiraj.

What occurred there was something she remembers all too well. The bulk of the adventurers were the ones who attacked, and it was on them that the main attacks were focused. She only fought when desperately needed. In that manner, against all odds, she managed to be amongst those who faced C'thun. And, even stranger - even more out of line - she was one of those who survived.

It was the first time she'd truly won a victory. Her mind seemed eased by having succeeded at something far greater, and she returned to Silvermoon. By then, the recently-christened Blood Elves had well and truly joined the Horde. Her senses raging at living within Silvermoon, yet finding so little mana to consume, she soon imbibed Fel, and joined them.

She returned to the work she'd had once, all interest in battle gone. With magic out of the question, she turned first to creating prosthetics again, and repairing the ones she'd created once to function without magic. By the time the Sunwell was restored, she was quite comfortable in her new home.

Ever since then, she's lived within Silvermoon; pursuing what curiosities she can. After a recent Northrend visit, she's seemed more on edge than usual - what course that will take is anyone's guess.