Navren
Those who aren't ready to die are crushed too easily. Those who are, are never taken.
I hope you'll understand one day, far into the future, when you have grown as weary of the world as I."Information
Player: Anski
Character Full Name: Navren Windstrider
Character In-Game Name: Navren
Nickname(s): N/A
Association(s): Leafwind Sisterhood
Race: Night Elf
Class: Demon Hunter
Age: 12,304
Sex: Male
Hair: Blue
Eyes: N/A
Weight: 301 lb
Height: 9'8"
Usual Garments/Armor: Black blindfold, plate-covered skirt.
Other: N/A
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality
At a young age, Navren Windstrider was a quiet, and reserved child. He did not make lifelong friends as he was expecting in his youth, especially since most of the coming of age men were going into the Dream to sleep for as long as they needed or wanted. The women were always working and so Navren came to appreciate the time being alone and away from the world. This a seed of embitterment to most of his outside entities, save for his family and a few friends. He would seem unwilling to talk to anyone who came near, nor compromise with them. He would often escape from places just to get away from people, through windows or holes he had made before hand. As Navren grew older he began to start communing with the outside world. However, he had no wish to speak openly, rather than just move along with the people he knew and listened. A few millennial years pass and Navren begins to show his embitterment, speaking without thinking and lashing out to others around the forest. After a few incidents, Navren returned to his silence, now wisely thinking and taking in all the knowledge he could.
History
When you understand this, Masimavri,
you will see why I am the living embodiment of hatred."- Navren Windstrider was born in the forests of Ashenvale, the only birth of that particular year. The near by small polyp villages rejoiced, however his parents kept him away in their secluded home. He was raised there, away from the rest of the world. After reaching his mid youth age, they let him to go roam as he see fit. Navren would take off into the forests, skillfully avoiding everyone else around. He would wait in trees, watching people as they talked and moved around the woods. He would be ever silent, only speaking a few words a week if necessary. His childhood was a rapture of mystery to his parents and to the rest of the world. People would whisper when he went by that he never spoke, and was probably a shame to his family. As Navren grew older, he did not redeem fit to be a Druid, nor could he be a soldier. As such, Navren took up a blade and lived in the woods, having left his family home for good, just as his sister was born. This was his first brush with death.
In the midst of the night, the Satyrs rushed his camp, as he was too close to their grounds for safety. Navren flew out of his bedding and swept up his blade, untrained and unskilled he attempted to fend off their attack party. They charged and he dug in, defending for as long as he could. Eventually, as another attack party came over the horizon of the treeline, he fled. Running, possession-less, through the woods, Navren returned home bleeding and utmost dying. He fell under the care of his family until he was well again, and took off in the dead of night without saying a word to them. Arriving at the current Sentinel base in Ashenvale, Navren pleaded for weapon training. They pitied him, and gave him the base sword combat run through, then told him to leave. Navren fled the town once more, and vanished into the forest. No one saw him for years. During his disappearance, he trained in the woods, living off the land, with two blades in his hands he had thieved from the Sentinel base. They were worn down, sharpened, worn down again and eventually one broke. He returned to the town, spent the last of his money to buy two, new fresh blades. He vanished again, to reach his second brush with death.
Subduing stealth for brute attack, Navren stormed a small, far outpost of Satyrs, and slaughtered them all. Standing drenched in their corrupted blood, he turned as a small recovery group came rumbling over a hill. He charged, but was overtaken due to their position and number. He ran, turned after half a mile, and fought again. When he could not fight any longer, he took off running, turned a mile outward, and fought again. He slew the last one at that point. Resting, he slept through the day and awoke in the night, and charged another camp. They were more fortified, but the power of surprise brought fall on all of them. He stood there again, now in layers of dried blood, waiting. No other party came. He rested for a while and moved on, and found another camp. He struck them down as well, and slept through the day. When he awoke, the Satyrs were charging him just at sunset, and Navren fought until he could no more. He ran through the woods, however could not curt tail them away. They overtook the elf, and he was nigh slain. Amongst extreme chaotics, he was subdued in consciousness and knew no more. When he awoke, the Satyrs were arguing in their own language, and he had heard them enough that they were arguing what to do with him. Tied to a pole and thrown to the ground, Navren was lifted by the Satyrs, and was being carried by two of them at an angle. He drew in his shoulders, and slipped out of their makeshift rope, and took off running. The whole wild band chased him all the way out, and eventually he lost them in Darkshore. Out of breath and out of health, Navren rested.
He returned home, slowly and carefully, to see his father waiting for him. The scouts in the area had seen him slay out the Satyrs by dragging, and they were wanting him to take part in an upcoming war. The Orcs were starting to burn and cut through Ashenvale, and combat against them was coming soon. They were far from what the Orcs called 'The Barrens' and so they waited for their call to arms. Navren spent this time anxious, uneasy. The Satyrs had wronged him, and so he slew them. The orcs were not wronging him, instead just of the others that considered Navren to be almost exiled in life. However by the time they were called, a larger threat had erupted from the nearby Hyjal mountain. The Burning Legion was out to destroy Nordrassil, and the Orcs and Night Elves grudgingly fought along side each other. Navren and his father were called to reach his latest brush with death.
Amongst the mountainsides, war raged on. In the craters around, and the lands near-by, demons poured out and had to be slain. Navren tore through them with less furor than he had the Satyrs. However, in the fury of attack, the demons managed to overtake his father, pouring onto him as a high value target. His sister, Masimavri, fought along side them as a Sentinel. They both watched as their father was torn to bits, and their reactions changed their lives forever. Masimavri fled in horror, and Navren gripped his blades. In the blindness of overtaking rage, he killed off many of the demons, leaving just one. It fled, and Navren gave chase. After miles, far away from the battle, he slew the demon in a clearing of the mountainside, hacking into its body with the blades over and over again. It perished, and Navren continued beating it, until he was hitting the grounds with his blades. He fell to his knees, exhausted. Taking a vial of the blood from the demon, he pocketed it and fled, deserting from the battle that raged on throughout the mountain. Assumed dead, especially as a part of the male militia, Navren returned to Ashenvale, and rested for weeks.
It was not long before he stood and walked from the empty home of his family, and began to wander through the world, in search of answers and revenge.
Within his life, he took to training to ascend to the power of the Demon Hunter. Spending two weeks at Hyjal and eight in Outland, Navren conquested the lands with his blades and walked down the permanent path of the hunter. He has devoted his time to rooting out the influences of the Legion on society, such as warlocks and felsworn abounding. He wanders the world or stays where he needs to in search of the evil amercement of society.
