Queneylis
Information
Contents
Player: Etmosril
Character Full Name: Queneylis Dalitryios
Character In-Game Name: Queneylis
Nickname(s): Quen.
Association(s):Silvermoon.
Race: Sin'dorei
Class: Priest
Age: 117
Sex: Female
Hair: Blonde, and naturally curly.
Eyes: Fel green.
Weight: 119 lbs.
Height: 5'6.
Appearance
Inexpensive, stylish clothing. Quen has a sharp fashion sense. but little money to spend on clothes - especially the kind of clothes she's been accustomed to most of her life. She compensates by being extra diligent with what she's got. She also loves asymmetrical things (probably to hide the scar on her shoulder), and will tailor storebought clothing to her taste.
She usually carries a dagger around with her. This is just a red herring: her favorite weapon is a short metal rod comparable to a baton, which is sectioned off and can be assembled into a full-sized staff.
Other: Her right shoulder has knots and jagged lines of scar tissue all over it.
Personality
Alignment:Lawful Good.
Friendly and approachable. Quen's not the sort to wax on about where she's gone, and what she's done in life. In fact, she's a bit horrified by adventures, and would never consider leaving Silvermoon unless it was for a -very- good reason. She's not exactly content with her job as an assistant auctioneer, but it's a step up from her previous condition and provides her with the sort of normal day-to-day life she enjoys.
Not a very good healer. Nor is she a Shadow priest. Instead, her focus is on the disciplines of combat and protection during combat. In short, she could be called a 'war priest'. Mental manipulation is another favorite. She has no qualms about digging around in people's minds, and doesn't seem to be bothered by what she finds in them. The only things she'll remove without hesitation are homicidal impulses and extreme unhappiness.
Combat's one of her favorite pastimes. She likes sparring with friends, especially when everyone agrees to her own bizarre set of rules. Most of those rules involve locations of combat, the use of Light shields, and no armor when fighting. She's very acrobatic in combat.
She's quite the innocent when it comes to some topics. It's not as if she hasn't seen the dark side of mortal nature - she's seen more than most - but remains unaffected by her unpleasant experiences. Trying to corrupt her morals is akin to smacking one's head against a stone wall: it doesn't do anything, and will just end up in a headache.
A bit secretive. She doesn't like answering questions about where she goes or what she does, and will readily accuse people of being nosy if they ask. She's likewise respectful of other peoples' privacy.
She hasn't seen races other than humans, High Elves, and Blood Elves, so where they fall in her personal preferences is impossible to tell. Needless to say, she doesn't like humans.
History
Queneylis was born in Silvermoon to a middle-upper class family. She was raised to be quite normal. No family secret, sadistic trainers, or otherwise odd childhood. Her parents loved her, she did well in school, and had a number of friends. She did, however, develop an interest in priestly skills which was very detached from the faith such skills accompanied. Her parents decided to send her to a tutor, hoping she'd either change her mind or develop a more appropriately religious outlook for a priest.
Neither seemed to work. She didn't change her mind, and if she had more faith in the Light, they certainly couldn't see it. She used many of her abilities in mundane places, with little regard for the greater scheme of things. Perhaps inevitably, she lost them around her ninetieth birthday. She went to the Church of Silvermoon for guidance on what to do next. There was no definite response, which frustrated her. She chose to undertake a religious pilgrimage.
Her parents were reluctant to let her leave and go wandering by herself. So she compromised by staying in Quel'thalas and writing them at every village she passed. She was absent for almost a year. When she returned, her Light came with her.
After that she buckled down and began to work harder. She was the only child of the Dalitryios family, which meant learning how to run a household took precedence. Her parents made sure she had enough time to serve at the Church, as she'd requested upon her return. Any odd mannerisms she developed over time were written off as being the normal quirks of a growing girl. A few more decades passed this way.
The household had early warning of the Siege, but the area they lived in was under a state of emergency. None of them could leave, much less with their valuable possessions. Instead they closed it down where they could and prayed that they'd be overlooked. After all, they reasoned, Silvermoon was too big to be destroyed completely. Time proved them wrong. The entire estate was destroyed. Quen's father was killed almost instantly. Quen and her mother - both of whom had been severely wounded - escaped over the rooftops by virtue of Quen's levitation spells and the strength borne of fear.
Quen's mother died shortly afterward. Quen was left alone, but she went to help those in the ruins with a chance of survival. Later, as the stark realization set in and more survivors grouped together, she searched for any friends or relatives who might have survived. There were none. She stuck around the members of the Church of Silvermoon for as long as possible. Supposedly it was out of a desire to help - but it was only to ensure that she'd have food and a place to sleep. They let her go as soon as they could afford to have fewer priests around.
Her standard of living dropped quickly. Her powers as a priest waned from exposure to Fel, and lack of faith in the Light. Without them, she had no salable skills. Feeding her Arcane addiction took precedence over feeding the rest of her body. Within the span of a month, she'd become little more than a Fel-fueled beggar.
Those hard times lasted for years. A more streetwise person in her place could have scraped together food and money easily. But as things were, they only got worse. She came close to starving a few times. Other times, she had enough power to sell her priestly services to people who didn't dare to visit the church. She encountered a lucky break when she saw a robbery taking place, and incapacitated the robber via mental control. The payoff was enough to guarantee her either a new set of clothes or several days worth of food. She chose clothes.
She managed to get herself a position as an auctioneer-in-training with her less-shabby appearance, proof of her willingness (and competence) to work, and a few heartfelt pleas. The pay as an assistant auctioneer was enough to keep her fed and off the streets. It was also augmented with occasional payments for healing.
The return of the Sunwell gave her a clarity of mind she hadn't felt since before the Siege. That excepted, not much has changed in a few years. She continues to work steadily, and listen to the stories of adventure that other, more danger-inclined citizens like to tell.
