Evrana

Information

Player: Krilari

Character Full Name: Evrana Prancingstar

Character In-Game Name: Evrana

Nickname(s): ‘Eve’, ‘Doctor’,

Association(s): Silvermoon City, Church of the Light,

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Priest

Age: 129

Sex: Female

Hair: Scarlet

Eyes: Fel Green

Scale/Height: .9

Weight: 132 Lbs.

Skills and Abilities

Medicum Corpus - In the years following Silvermoon’s Fall Evrana spent a good deal of her time in study and research of the medical arts and, with a few year’s time put into proper schooling, the young woman has become accepted officially as a doctor. Since her mastery in the art, she’s also come to mix her medical practices with her metaphysical practices, utilizing holy and shadow magics to help her patients while also properly ensuring their treatment with medical knowledge.

Appearance

While her choice of robes may vary or hairstyle may shift, Evrana bears a body that hardly ever changes. Worn by the burdens of life following the siege of Silvermoon, Evrana bears a form that tickles upon the border of malnutrition as it bears a poor amount of fat upon it, her ribs just barely dotting out through her pale flesh. Where by nature her hair is a tone closer to a deep orange, she maintains a fair amount of dye on a monthly basis, ensuring that she maintains that silken mane of scarlet color.

Personality

Fickle is a word used easily to describe Evrana. While she lived through the years of a simple childhood under the guidance of kind parents, that was all swept out from under her, forcing a girl once calm and kind to grow more recluse into her own self, fearful of the world outside her own mind- including the strangers of day to day life. Trust is something easy to earn from her, quite honestly, as it requires only the will to persist with her, to pay attention to her and her own worries. Though her own antisocial tendencies tend to make even that a difficult task at times.

There are few times where the girl’s perpetual nervousness manages to falter away in favor of focus and precision: Firstly when she tends to her worship of the Light in privacy, and secondly when she tends to patients, however the later is an extremely taxing task for the young woman and all of her anxieties. Most situations require a swift retreat afterwards in order for her to regain her composure.

History

Conceived to a Magistrix and her lover after a night of many wines, Evrana would come to be born not behind Silvermoon’s grand walls, but instead within one of the humble homes of Windrunner Village. Her mother, Astavali, once worked for the Magistry before the pregnancy, yet she forsook that profession to see to her daughter. On the other hand her father, Tenrai, was a man more for the wilds given his Farstrider profession. Most of her youth was spent playing along the shimmering shores of Quel’Thalas, whether she would find herself fishing in vain or building small structures out of the wet sands.

Growing up, she seemed to have inherited the same affinity for the arcane arts as her mother. She was naturally fascinated by the complex ebb and flow of her mother’s casting and strived to mimic every little hand gesture that accompanied the spells. As she grew into her years as a teenager, she would often attempt to ‘cast’ these hand gestures on the family’s pet lynx though she grew disheartened as each would come to be fruitless. Astavali, who watched with a mix of pride and amusement, soon to the young Evrana to the grand halls of Silvermoon’s Magistry where she once worked herself.

By her twentieth year, Evrana would manage to make herself an apprentice to not her own mother, but to one of the myriad of Arcanists that lined the halls. Contrary to popular belief, most of her time was not spent learning the intricacies of the arcane or weaving spell after spell to integrate perfection into her life. No, instead she spent most of her days as a messenger girl between the Arcanist and his many mentors or even more degrading was to be sent to get his every meal. Where her teacher lacked, her mother would come to make up for it. In the secret of their home, Astavali would provide her daughter with glimpses and hints of larger spells, allowing the apprentice to pick up on a casting that she might’ve been better off knowing.

As the years of her arcane practices went on, the corrupting influence would become apparent. The once innocent girl grew arrogant and tireless, constantly working away and even going so far as to sneak out at night to practice her spells. Once again her mother would come to watch, but this time it was more of worry than anything else that plagued her mind. While she left the child to her casting, Astavali would come to contact her old friends and compatriots. In the days that followed, Evrana was greeted not by her usual Arcanist, but instead a much kinder and elderly woman. Where the past years of her apprenticeship had her focusing on casting, she now spent her time meditating and resting, looking into the ideals of morals and teachings of the Lights. While hardly receptive at first, a few months into the practice and she would come to finally find a breakthrough of clarity.

She would hate herself, hate arcane. Everything she learned in the past had grown to disgust her as she realized how the arcane had warped her mind. In a fit she would curse and forsook the Arcane arts that she would learn, instead looking back to the meditative practices that she had been learning for the months prior. As she went to continue her shift back to a life without the arcane arts, a different sort of following would catch her eye: The Priesthood.

While it was an unusual transition, it came naturally enough to the young woman. She turned from a life that brought corruption and selfishness and moved into an occupation that influenced selflessness. In the worn and untended halls of Silvermoon’s smaller chapels she worked away as a much happier person. Her mentor, the elderly woman, would come to be one much like the young child, who had forsaken a practice in the Arcane in order to provide a more peaceful life.

Once more years would go by, and once again the young woman took up an apprenticeship, learning to cast not for the self but instead for others. The physical representation of the Light came easy enough to the young priestess, who wove the magic in order to mend wounds and solely such. Still she lived with her parents, considered well too young to make a life for her own yest yet. However, fate would seem to have a different thought in mind.

In the midst of night, a knocking came to her family’s door. Not the normal sort of raps but a sort of ear-splitting clawing, as if someone was desperately attempting to work their way inside. While Eve slept on the second floor of the family’s house, the both of her parents rested on the floor below. While not awake for the rasping knock, the young Evrana was for what followed. As her weary father approached, the door would shatter into splinters. Amongst the sudden chaos three ghouls stormed into the house. Without mercy the ghoul raged about. From the higher reaches of the house Evrana watched on, awakened by the sounds but struck still by terror. She could not move an inch if she wanted. Instead her hands balled into a death grip, clenching the gilded railing. Her father was the first to fall, his torso clawed open by claws. Struggle as she might, Astavali fell soon enough under the merciless and sudden strikes. Despite the horror, the atrocity committed before her very eyes, Eve could not find the strength to turn and flee. Instead her eyes settled, watching as the corpses of her parents were viciously mutilated.

Eventually the stricken child would find the mind to flee from the top most balcony of her family’s abode. With a leap of faith and a muttered prayer she sailed down to the floor safely, huddling to the cliff of the shore until day broke. Since such a night, Evrana has never been the same.

The following months were nothing but a living hell for the woman. She wandered about, poor and starving, slowly working her way towards the last bastion of hope- Silvermoon City. The path would prove to be difficult, however. As she stalked along she was plagued by fleeing visions of her mother and father, mutilated as they were, simply walking along the road near her. When she found herself free of visions, she was instead plagued by madmen and bandits. There were none who took their kingdom’s fall well, though some took it much harder. In her travels she was forced into turning to the more damaging aspect of her faith in order to simply survive.

Once she made her way to the remains of Silvermoon, her problems would not dissipate but instead grow. Finally she felt the pains of her addiction as the Sunwell was torn asunder. It seemed that the only thing she had left to turn to was her own faith, but even that provided little in these grim times.

From months her misfortune turned to years. Even after Silvermoon managed to rebound after the assault, Eve was wrought by the terrors of what she had seen. While growing further uncommon, Eve would still catch glimpses and visions of her mother and father’s corpses walking about casually, their blood oozing about along with their entrails. Struck by such visions, Eve kept herself holed up in chapels, praying desperately for a release. Such a release would only come with new worries.

Moments spent conscious became moments spent in torture. The destruction of the Sunwell would cause wracking pains within the woman's system, and such pain brought forth the nightly terrors and delusions. Despite the woman's faith, the only release from such a relentless cycle would be found in demonic powers, dark and twisted as they were. Reluctantly the Priestess would begin to collect fel stones, draining them in small amounts in order to keep the pains from becoming too wracking. Because of the small dosages countered by the woman's hours spent in meditation and faithful prayer allowed for her to maintain her casting of the Light, as rarely used as it was.

As the years strung on, the priestess would find herself becoming a victim to a myriad of further issues. From kidnappings to slave auctions, she was put through different versions of her own hell. Through these times Evrana digressed, what advancement she made towards forsaking dark-casting was lost as she was once again forced to defend herself in the midst of a cruel world.