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Player: Geoni

Character Full Name: Loyus Lore’alah

Character In-Game Name: Loyus

Nickname(s): Keeper Loyus, 'Strange', 'Simpleton','Ass', 'The worst man I've ever met in this city'

Association(s): Silvermoon City

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Gravekeeper and Barkeeper (Mage)

Skills and Abilities: He knows some spells, he can brew a mean tea, but above all, he knows how to use a shovel.

Age: 431

Sex: Male

Hair: A dark chestnut brown in color. It is long, naturally straight, and kept in a ponytail.

Eyes: Fel Green

Weight: 167 lbs

Height: 6'5


Loyus prefers to wear black colors. According to Loyus, he is attending a funeral every day of his life. His pants match his overcoat: they are nearly solid black, but there are red-colored patterns of delicate vines integrated into the outfit. Underneath his overcoat, he wears a gray scarf, and a burgundy shirt. His belt is solid black, made out of a thick cloth, and rectangular in shape. Attached to his belt are three pouches: one for coins, one for tea mixtures on the go, and the other for anything else he might need to carry.

Other: Loyus often wears cologne to cover up the smells of dirt he tracks from the graveyard, or from the floors behind the bar. There might also be a slight smell of herbs, as he grows his own herb garden on the balcony outside his room.


Loyus is an intense person, and he doesn’t worry about coming off that way. He is apathetic, judgmental, critical, offensive, bitter, and sarcastic. Loyus has his own brand of tea, and his own brand of sarcasm: both are bitter. When he communicates with people, he uses sarcasm most of the time; he realizes this, so he often reverses his own sarcasm. The result is that, in communication, many people can’t tell if his words are straightforward or not. This is Loyus’ way of dealing with people, and in the end, his own way of surviving his daily existence.

He has a refined taste, and in the end, not many please it. Loyus is racist towards anybody who isn’t a Blood Elf, but he disapproves of most Blood Elves as well. He distributes his wealth of knowledge and disdain with everyone equally. Sure, he has his passions, such as literature, debating philosophy, and making drinks, but he keeps the little joy he receives from these hobbies inside, holding onto it dearly because he knows that it’s all he has. The result of this is that he comes off as unhappy, most of the time, which only adds to his drab fashion sense. When he does smile, it generally comes onto his face when he’s having an exchange and somebody says something worthy of mocking. Loyus doesn’t mock people vocally, because he understands that a smile does all the work a sentence can do.


Loyus was born in Silvermoon, the first and last child of a doctor and an alchemist. His parents were wealthy enough to get him a tutor, so he spent most of his childhood absorbing knowledge like a sponge. By the age of twelve, the tutor didn’t have much else to teach the young boy; Loyus rapidly consumed academics, even going to the library to read works that his tutor didn’t teach him. By that time, Loyus had become a depressed child, lonely and apathetic; nothing would make him happy, no matter how far anybody went. It was that year of his life when his parents decided that they wanted another child. However, Loyus’ mother’s birth went terribly wrong; she died giving birth to a stillborn child.

His mother’s death came as a shock to Loyus. Sure, he had thought a lot about death already, but it never seemed real until then, because nobody close to him died before his mother. What bothered him the most was when his father wouldn’t let him use her alchemy table for his little experiments: he realized that this was what sentimentality looked like, and that it was one of the many emotions that resulted from death. Nothing, up to this point, fascinated Loyus to this extent. So, because his mother died and introduced a number of new emotions and thoughts into his life, Loyus became obsessed with death.

During his adolescence, he would dedicate his time to studying death, and became known for attending funerals that he wasn’t invited to. He began to study the nature of people this way: how they live, how they communicate, and how those two things change when a close death occurs. He began to think about his own existence: because he wasn’t bought up in a household that was religious, he had to come to terms with reality through his own discoveries. What he discovered, or at least concluded for himself, was that people live to survive, because they fear death; Loyus theorized that death was the reason for existential striving, not life.

As he grew into his adulthood, he grew to become a skeptical and troubled young philosopher. His father believed that his son never recovered from the death of his mother, and that her death did worse for Loyus than he expected it could. He offered Loyus an apprenticeship to work as his assistant, but Loyus turned this down. A shock to his father, Loyus became so angry because of this offer that he left home and never lived with him again.

For more than a hundred years, Loyus would work as a librarian. This is a job that became easier and more suitable for Loyus, because by the time he lived to see his second century, he had read most of the books that Silvermoon’s library contained, so keeping track of them all was an easy job. He took advantage of being a librarian as well. Because he had access to so many of the world’s works, and often requested new books to be added to the library from other cities, he could further develop his philosophies on death. As the second century of his life passed, he began to write his own books as he worked, hiding them under his desk at the library so that it didn’t look like he was doing non-librarian related work. However, out of his own skepticism of his thoughts, he never sought to publish his writings.

He lived this way for a long time, until the coming of the second war. It was then when Loyus was recruited to fight for his people: many knew that he had a mind suitable for a great battle mage. And he proved to learned spells quickly, and how to use them correctly, efficiently, and with deadly force. However, the life of war quickly sickened Loyus, so he returned to Silvermoon to work as a librarian.

The events of the third war would push Loyus right out of the comfort he had just resettled into. The scourge threatened to take his precious city, and as little as he cared for the people in it, it was his home, and he didn’t want to it to go to ruin. So he fought against the Scourge with all of his might, and for a few moments, felt what people called ‘pride’. This feeling would soon disappear as his side lost the fight against the Scourge; he would retreat from the fight, and return to the western half of Silvermoon to find that his writings, along with all of the books in the library, had been burned. As he also failed to protect the Sunwell, and suffered from withdrawals, Loyus began to fall into such a deep depression that it paralyzed him and thus prevented him from being able to do more than survive.

A fellow librarian, equally pained by the destruction of his workplace, took a notice to Loyus' writings over the years and when he realized that all of his books had been burned along with the library, he understood Loyus' depression. Though the man wasn’t his friend, he was his coworker, and when he caught Loyus trying to commit suicide, he did what he thought would bring him out of his dread: he forced Loyus to travel across both Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdom, so that he might see the world. What his friend, and his friends did for their economic survival, was acting and entertainment. Loyus’ friend was a jester well-practiced in the noble houses; at first, Loyus thought that this was the most absurd and despicable person to be, but soon he began to realize that humor was the greatest and most comforting lie to result from language. And so, he made it his goal to communicate with a sense of humor that nobody understood: his own misconstrued version of sarcasm.

Loyus’ journey with the troupe only lasted for a little while; when he heard that the Sunwell had been restored, and that Silvermoon was being rebuilt, he left the troupe to join in the efforts to bring his home back to its former glory. When he arrived to Silvermoon, he couldn’t find a job, or a purpose, now that the library was gone. Sure, there was a smaller library in the eastern section of Silvermoon, but without the works that he wrote over his lifetime, the sentiment wasn’t there. Instead, he found himself working part time jobs, trying different things out. There are two jobs that he held onto: being a gravekeeper for one of Silvermoon’s city graveyards, and being a barkeeper at a local tavern. He has kept a balance of both jobs ever since.