Rasha

Information

Player: Khalista

Character Full Name: Rasha Slade

Character In-Game Name: Rasha

Nickname(s): Rasha

Association(s): Journeyman Squire espiring to join a Paladin Order, aside from her ties to the Church she knows very few

Race: Human

Class: Paladin

Age: 18

Sex: Female

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Green

Weight: 135lb.

Height: 5'6

Alignment: Lawful Good though with an occasional impetuousness

Appearance

Favors platemail however is usually found in whatever she's managed to scavenge. Her dress reflects her lifestyle, battered and worn from aggressive activities.

Other: The only consistant piece of equipment she keeps is a scrap of crimson cloth, it's meaning known only to her.

Personality

Rasha is just now coming into her own as a woman and a person outside the training she has received as a Paladin in Stormwind's militia. Somewhat shy and reserved, she seems highly introverted and self reflective to those who encounter her. At present she much prefers watching the conversations of others from a nearby doorway, or other at least partially obstructed location, than to engage the conversation herself. As she matures emotionally, it stands to reason she will open up to others and become somewhat more active in those around her.

History

"You have grown much in the last couple of years and yet there is something you still keep within you that we must know, child. Tell me of your past and what brought you to our doorstep.. What is the relationship between you and the older man we occasionally see you with near the edge of the ground? Is he your sire?" The elderly man sits calmly facing his young charge seated comfortably on the floor a few feet from him. His kindly face and rheumy eyes implore answers, but the youth maintains her silence for several moments. Just as he begins to speak again, she looks up from the hands at her lap to him, her voice soft, quiet enough to bring the priest forward slightly in his seat to hear her.

"No Father, he is not my sire... he is the one who brought me here and the one who protected me until I was admitted into the Church." Her words fade and her gaze returns to her hands letting blonde locks obscure her features, yet again just as the Priest takes in breath to continue the questioning, she looks up and begins to speak.

"What I remember comes in two forms.. As a little girl I remember happiness and warmth from parents, playful chiding and teasing from brothers older than myself, servents and commoners who smiled more than were sad. I remember my father was a Lord.. I know now he was a chosen protector for one of the garrisons near Andorhal... before.. What else I remember from the time before was.." Her voice trails to silence for a moment as her eyes mist in rememberance, the next words wrenched from, "What else I remember began in the middle of the night, my parents were arguing about something and wakened me. People were becoming deathly ill. My mother as a priestess of the light wanted to go to them, to save those my family was protecting while my father was being ordered to fall back. He wished to save them as well but his duty was to the King. I could hear my brothers and my father's retainers saddling horses in the courtyard from my window. I knew what was soon to happen, they were leaving as they had many times in the past when couriers arrived from the city. There was something different about this time, something I couldn't explain, only feel. I knew there was danger."

Brushing her hair back behind her ear, the girl takes a deep steadying breath, her audience of one captivated by her tale telling, "They were gone by morning leaving only my mother and a half dozen men at arms to protect the main keep, the rest of the Garrison was being called back to the city.. Lordaeron. My mother came to me, she told me we were ordered by my Lord Father to abandon our home and take those who could still move under their own power to Andorhal. So it was, we made the short distance there. The smell of death came long before the city was in sight, the men at arms automatically moving to place my mother and myself in the center of a ring of armored bodies. I couldn't see, I heard my mother gasp, I stood in the stirrups and finally managed to see.. it was gone, the great city was ruined and burning. People wounded and sick were stumbling around, creatures were moving along the city streets, herding people."

A shuddering breath, her eyes close, "We rode as hard as we could toward Lordaeron, knowing something was wrong. My mother's instictive urges to help those she saw along the way was consumed by the need to get to my father and brothers. I didn't understand, but I was raised to obedience by my mother so I said nothing. When we arrived, priests were at the gates, as were soldiers.. so many soldiers. They made to turn us away but one of the priests recognized my mother. She dismounted and went to speak privily with him. I was left with the soldier's of my father's guard who moved closely about me, a tension between them and the guards at the gate. I didn't know then what I know now.. we were risking death by coming to those gates, ordered closed for reasons I'm still not sure of. The next I remember of that time was standing with my mother, her hand cool within mine, other priests surrounding us including the brother of mine closest to me in age. All of them dressed in the white and blue of the clergy and all wearing looks of resolve... I don't know how the fires began but I remember the orange glow over the city, I remember the sounds of steel on steel and seeing the colors of my father's Order charging toward the main gates of the city. I remember seeing those gates bulge, then break under the pressures of what was behind them. Monsters of nightmare poured into city and everything happened all at once. I saw my brother charging to help the soldiers, I saw the other priests moving with him. I saw men and women dying, then I saw nothing but smoke. My mother thrust me into the arms of one of the last wearing my father's colors. I heard her whisper that she loved me and to remember whose daughter I was...." The girl's voice breaks, another shudder running through her before the mist fades from her eyes. Her gaze hardens as she focuses on the man before her, "I am Rasha Slade, the daughter of Lord Raziel Slade and the Lady Monica Slade. I am the last that remains of my line and by the Light's grace I shall become what my blood and heritage call for me to be."

Leaning forward, the priest places his gnarled hands gently to her shoulders, "You are and forever more will be a Paladin of the Light. You are accepted by the Church as worthy to continue your studies, arise sister and take up arms to fulfill the destiny you feel within you."

Sword in hand, Rasha began her journey alone as many choose to do. Refining the training she had been given both by the Church and the old retainer who had become like a foster father to her. From the shadowlands of Darkshire to the jungle of Stranglethorn, the swamps and rocky grounds of the Blasted Lands to the sands of Tanaris. Rasha grew strong in the martial arts, honing her skills while communing and reinforcing her faith. Fearing to become too close to anyone, fearing the loss she still nurtures within her, she continues her private war against the forces that bring misery to Azeroth, dreading the day she is called back but knowing that her efforts haven't gone unnoticed.