Kalden

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Information

Player: Necreous

Character Full Name: Kalden Allen Dawnseeker

Character In-Game Name: Kalden

Nickname(s): Kal

Association(s): The Alliance of Azeroth, Stormwind City, the Humans of Azeroth, Explorer's League (Not a member. Has just helped them a lot and whatnot.)

Race: Human.

Class: Warrior.

Age: 26

Sex: Male.

Hair: A dark, chocolate brown. Almost black. It reaches slightly past his shoulders, but it's put up if he ever puts on a helmet -- although, he rather hates the things, since they obscure view and are, in his words, "Nothing but a metal bucket to make me look funny." Kalden's hair looks well-kept, even though he spends a lot of his time camping and exploring -- or, used to.

Eyes: An emerald green color, just like his late father, Gerrald Dawnseeker.

Weight: With his leathery armor strapped on, it's around 220 lbs. Without the armor and wearing normal clothing, it's about 198 lbs.

Height: 5' 11". An inch or so under-average.

Alignment: Neutral Good.

Appearance

Unless sleeping and staying in a secure city such as Stormwind or Ironforge, Kalden wears his green and brown leather armor. It's many buckles and straps make it seem complex and nothing but a nuisance, but, as he puts it, "the stuff has saved my(his) life on more than one occasion; though, as it turns out, it doesn't block fireballs very well." The leather's colors help hide him in shady woods or forest, such as Elwynn's forests, or the forests of Ashenvale. It's even worked in the Howling Fjord on more than one occasion. Whenever Kalden walks, his brown cape sweeps the ground behind him silently, sometimes brushing dust into the air. His leather-soled boots make movement easier, and even faster. Some question why he fights in leather when, after being taught the ways of a human warrior of Azeroth, he can wear the very-thick and strong plate-mail. Kalden has always laughed at such a question, and answered always the same; "Why, that'd make it too easy."

His weapons were made by a blacksmith in the Explorer's League Outpost in the Howling Fjord, when Kalden saved the dwarf from a wild Worg -- the Worg breaking his only sword in the process. Both of dwarven craft, but different. His left-handed blade has a golden hilt with blue colors mixed into. It's long blade stretches out from the hilt, gleaming in the sunlight. His other sword has a green gem inset in a hilt of silver. The blade on this sword is the same as his other blade, but has more silver in it, whereas the golden hilt sword has bronze coloring to the blade. Slung over his shoulders with a brown quiver is a simple brown bow with silver tips and a silver handle. He's been known to use this bow a lot, even though as a human warrior of Azeroth, the bow is not his greatest tool.

Personality

Kalden is seen, outwardly, as a lunatic. Rather than staying inside where it's relatively safe, he'd go outside where the war and plague ravage the land and seek an adventure and explore. He'd rather roam the plague-infested lands of Northrend then stay inside his home and wait it all out, depressed and unmotivated to do anything. Boisterous and carefree, Kalden travels all over Azeroth, Kalimdor, and Northrend, though he's never traveled farther than the Howling Fjord. Kalden's got a trustworthy look to him. He's often seen smiling, even in battle when facing an enemy that's impossibly stronger than him, such as his Dragonkin encounter in Azshara. His boisterous and cocky nature makes most think it'll be the death of him -- but he only acts that way because he knows it won't kill him. Though Kalden is boisterous, carefree, and laid back, he's not the kind to just stand around and watch his teammates/allies/friends get hurt and killed. If he ever sees someone in trouble, he tries to help; unless he knows he shouldn't. Kalden hates staying in one place too long. He'd rather be camping or on the roads where the danger is. Most call him crazy for doing so, but he just smiles and laughs. Kalden's main favorite, however, is a nice, clean battle or spar. His two swords and leather armor is all he thinks he'll ever need. His weapons, armor and skill have gotten him through many a battle in the past. When in battle, he knows there's a good chance he's going to die - it's one of the things that drives him in battle. The very thought doesn't phase him; in his own words: "If I die, I die. We can't let death scare us; it's here. It's never going away. Get used to it."

Other: Kalden is always seen a crazy man due to his sense of adventure during the current global crisis of war and plague. Rather than sit in a cold tavern, drinking flat ale and looking down, he'd want to go outside and risk his very life.

History

Born in the beginning of the First War, Kalden only a baby when the Orcish Horde stormed Stormwind City. Gerrald Dawnseeker and Mary Dawnseeker, his father and mother, lived in a small cottage right outside of the glorious Stormwind City. They earned a living by hunting, gathering, chopping wood, and working in the mines. However, when the orcs raided Stormwind City and Elwynn Forest, they weren't left out of the carnage. As the raid parties ravaged the city and tore through the Guard, Gerrald and Mary gathered Kalden and a meager amount of supplies and tried to catch up to a caravan that was leaving for Lordaeron. With Kalden in her arms, Mary followed Gerrald as quickly as she could, not being able to run very fast bare foot and in her torn and filthy dress. As they ran through the burning forests, they both tried as hard as they could to block out the sounds of screaming villagers and citizens and Mary fought to keep Kalden's face covered to block out the ash-filled and burning air. Unknown to them, Gerrald and Mary were running straight towards a couple of Orcs that were pillaging nearby cottages. These orcs were the only thing standing between the couple and the caravan. Drawing out a very dull and brittle blade, his only defense, Gerrald yelled for Mary to run whilst he himself held them both off. As fast as her sore and bruised feet would allow her, Mary held Kalden tightly in her arms as she ran through the wooded maze to the dirt roads leading to Westfall. Gerrald held a battle stand as the two orcs laughed in their rough and guttural language. Both drew forth a weapon; one wielded a barbaric ax, and the other held out a very sharp and powerful-looking blade which looked of Dwarven design. As Gerrald ran forward with a battle cry, one orc fled in the direction of his wife, while the second simply punched Gerrald harshly in the stomach. Falling to his knees, Gerrald stabbed the dull sword into the leg of the orc. The sword didn't even penetrate the skin, but as it impacted, it shattered, making it very short, but extremely and fatally sharp. The sharp yet broken sword piece shoved into the leg of the orc, making it cry aloud in a rage. As it swept it's large arm down to grab Gerrald, he rolled to the side, making the orc clumsily fall flat on it's face, and with it's injured leg, it could hardly stand back up. Gerrald took this opportunity to grab the dropped ax of the injured orc, and he ran -- with effort, of course, since the ax was heavy -- and sought after his wife.

Mary was running as fast as she could, as she felt as if her lungs would burst in any second. Breathing so heavily that it was louder than the screams and battle cries all around her, she tripped heavily on an exposed root, and fell hard against the ground. However, she luckily landed in a bed of soft and uncut grass, leaving Kalden unharmed. Before she could even stand, something hard was knocked against the back of her head, and she only saw Kalden fading into black. An orc grabbed her up, making Kalden drop softly to the ground, by her hair, and started to drag her through the burning forests. The last Gerrald saw of his beloved wife was her being dragged off roughly by an orc into the burning forests. Before he could run after her, he heard the war cries of an Orcish raiding party. Hearing as well the barks of the Officers and howls of wolves, he scooped up the infant Kalden and ran for the caravan headed to Lordaeron, tears built up in his eyes.

At the age of six, Kalden was starting to hate the life he was forced to live. Though brand new and very foreign to his father, Kalden learned to call Lordaeron home, having no true memories of Elwynn; only hearing about it from the occasional story by Gerrald. Having to work every single day either chopping wood, working in the hot and sweaty blacksmiths, or in the cold and damp mines, he was worked to near exhaustion every single day. Callouses built up on his hands and feet, and his face was always dirty. After working himself to his limits, his father would take him home for a stale meal and unclean water for a drink. The pay was low, the work was hard, and the rewards were non-existent. They did this for one reason though; to help the war effort of the Second War and reclaim Stormwind City and Elwynn Forest. After months of hard labor and exhaustion, Stormwind City was reclaimed by the Alliance, with the aid of the High Elves in Quel'thalas. Once Elwynn was reclaimed, Kalden and Gerrald traveled back to Stormwind City, where they found ash, ruin, and desolation of their once-great city. Upon hearing an offer to Stonemasons to rebuild the city, Gerrald immediately learned the basics of the trade and taught it to Kalden. Working for practically no fee again, the father and son, along with countless others, rebuilt the city back to it's former glory and more. After it was finished, Stormwind City once against bustled with life, commerce, and peace. But the Stonemasons, including Gerrald and Kalden, were cast aside and not even rewarded for their hard effort. Angered and poor, the Stonemasons, including Gerrald, turned to Edwin VanCleef for answers and hope. After joining the Defias Brotherhood, life was looking up for the father and son. Kalden didn't know how his father made so much money, but he didn't care; he wasn't having to work as much, and he got to play with his friends and actually enjoy life more. But night after night, his father would be gone longer and longer. One night he didn't even come home to poor Kalden.

One evening, Kalden went looking for his missing father. The moon was up, and shadows cloaked the forests. With animals in the shadows, the cold grass, and the howling wind in the treetops, Kalden soon grew afraid. As he searched more and more, he lost sight of the house, and couldn't find his way back. As tears built up with fear, he shivered and looked around for some sort of hope. He found hope; a light from a home was only several yards away. Following the light, he found a cottage surrounded by strange men. Each wore black clothing and red-bandannas, and were heavily armed. As Kalden snuck around the men and peered into the window of the home, he saw a horrendous sight; his father had a defenseless and unarmed woman on the floor, the tip of his longsword at her neck. He stared in shock as his own father, sliced the throat of the woman, and her blood spilled onto the floor. His father quickly turned to the window and saw Kalden, and narrowed his eyes with anger. As the other men flooded into the house to pillage and steal, Gerrald walked swiftly out of the house and after Kalden. Frozen with shock and fear, Kalden didn't move. Gerrald grabbed Kalden by his arm harshly, and forced Kalden to look at him. "You will never say a word of this. Do you hear me? You will never leave the house again, except to work. You are forbidden to walk outside at dark alone, Kalden. You are forbidden to leave our home ever again."

At the age of 10, Kalden had lived a life of solitude and confinement in his own home. Rarely did he and his father talk. Abuse was common, as his father had now started buying dwarven spirits and was working more and more with Defias Brotherhood. The bruises were never seen by anyone else; Kalden rarely ever left the house. The only thing that kept him sane and happy was a small sword that he found rusted in the rubble of his old home. When his father left, he went outside behind the cottage home and practiced, becoming self-taught. After earning one gold piece from working, Kalden secretly went into Goldshire and bought -- not to mention bribe -- the blacksmiths to forge him a new short sword. Using the short sword and a few scraps of leather padding, Kalden left the home and headed for Redridge and Lakeshire. After a few days doing hard labor in Lakeshire under the watchful eye of the Lakeshire Guardsman Haldon Stormshield, Kalden earned regular money and stayed in the tavern, mostly by himself, but again watched by Haldon, a normal guardsman that happen to find Kalden exhausted on a patrol near Lakeshire.

After several years in Lakeshire, Kalden reached the age of twenty, when rumors of a plague in Lordaeron spread just as fast as the plague itself. Out of fear, Kalden left Lakeshire and headed more south, through the haunted lands of Duskwood and into Stranglethorn Vale. To his misfortune, Kalden found the raptors, gorillas, crocolisks, and wild cats of Stranglethorn to be very dangerous.. that was before he found the trolls. After he discovered the barbaric and voodoo-ritualistic trolls, Kalden thought it best to not even try to pick a fight with them; he never understood magic, but he knew it was dangerous and often fatal to it's enemies. As such, Kalden avoided contact and discovery. However, he loved the constant danger and excitement of living in the vicious animal-infested jungles. Moving further and further south, Kalden discovered the city of Booty Bay. Finding it completely run by wealthy goblin merchants, Kalden settled right in. With the constant jobs and economic flow in the merchant city, Kalden lined his pockets with silver and gold fast. As war and plague ravaged the world up north, Kalden spent the days in the flourishing Booty Bay and held out. When a trade route was established to Kalimdor, Kalden was one of the first few to set foot on the ships. As the sails went up and the boats started to move westward, Kalden smiled and new that a whole new land was ahead.