Sylvandre

Information

Player: Flammos2000

Character Full Name: Sylvandre Cloudtear

Character In-Game Name: Sylvandre

Nickname(s): Syl, Sentinel, Red Wind, Owl. (In order by her friends, strangers, colleagues and a strange human mage named Allandra.)

Association(s): The Alliance, The Night Elves, Darnassus, The Sentinels, The Pride.

Race: Night Elf

Class: Warden

Skills & Abilities: The usual Warden abilities, from Slicing Torrents, to Shadow Strikes, Blinks and such, like the one used by Maiev to disappear off the top of Black Temple with, or summoning the mighty Avatar of Vengeance. The entire Warden repertoire, as generally depicted in her Prestige Storyline thread.

Age: 443, locked in the Young Woman stage of life.

Sex: Female

Hair: Very long, silver, draping her shoulders and back down to her waist. She'll claim it's uncomfortable in combat, but will not cut it for the world.

Eyes: Silver.

Weight: 97 Kg

Height: 2,12m

Appearance

Usual Garments/Armor: Plate armor, forged by herself. Having become like a second skin to her, she couples it with her Warden's Cloak, the entire weight of which leaves her rather slow physically. Only as fast as the typical Night Elf Warrior, without the use of Warden magic, Sylvandre is still mobile enough to function in melee combat, though if she's Silenced or if unable to call upon her abilities, she's a mere juggernaut with a fancy cloak and a ring-sword.

Other: Wields a Moon Sword on and off the battlefield, a weapon she reveres and loves. Her right glove has the Talons of the Owl affixed to it, a clawed over-gauntlet with sharp-looking blades which look like the eponymous bird's talons. It is electrified, and intended as a torture implement, as a standard part of the Warden's arsenal. She despises using it, though.

Personality

Alignment: Lawful Good

Sylvandre is an analytical being. She has a military mind, tapered and shaped by her training and hundreds of years in the forge. She is a firm believer in justice, and in its application by each and every member of society, a conviction often coming into conflict with her hopeful and sometimes naive child-like mentality. She is a rabble-rouser, enjoying inspiring others with her words and can sometimes be abusive of her eloquence, in her mind only serving to further the justice she deems fit.

Despite often being blunt and to-the-point, something that happens often in times of need, she is prone to beating around the proverbial bush, enjoying intrigue and subtlety as much as strength and the purity of simplicity. She is a tactician, and one that quickly adapts to new situations, making up plans as she goes along, and modifying previously made ones. Her machine-like intellect and mentality are often shielded behind an outward appearance of a naive, buff young woman, clad in heavy armor with a fondness for various sharp items.

It should be noted that she is overbearingly tolerant of most other races, lacking the base xenophobia and technophobia of most Kaldorei, in part due to her upbringing, because, despite her training, she is a ‘new-generation' Night Elf, tradition not having time enough to root itself in her psyche.

Her views on most alliance races are those of acceptance, seeing humans as a short-lived, destructive race with immense potential for good, if they'd stop bickering amongst themselves, of course. She views dwarves with more compassion than any other race, possibly because she has been taught ‘how to drink' by one. Her opinion on Draenei is one of venerable, if very, very strange giants, and on Gnomes she can safely say that she does not understand them one bit, their ceaseless pursuit of knowledge and power being as reckless as it is swift.

On the Horde, however, her opinions vary greatly. She still sees in Blood Elves distant cousins, instead of hating them, she pities them greatly due to their addiction, nigh-extinction and fall to Fel magic. She does not tolerate such practices in her presence. Her view of Orcs is one of deep-seated hatred, on the other hand, due to watching her sisters-in-arms killed by this race. Tauren, to her, are a guilty curiosity, being the only other race with ties to the Cenarion Circle, yet also being part of the Horde. Trolls are a neutral, primal people to her, whereas her views on Forsaken are those of unnatural abominations. Surprisingly, she views Death Knights with leniency, accepting their usefulness, as she accepts that Technology has its uses.

As a sidenote, she is a hardened drinker, ever since being ‘taught how to drink' by Scotaidh Barleybrew, and of late, she has developed a liking for a certain white rabbit which she has adopted as a pet... and sometimes as a thrown weapon...

History

Sylvandre was born in Ashenvale, and her childhood was spent with her notably non-conformist parents, in a fairly small, yet book-filled house in the middle of the wilds, her life balanced between the harsh physical conditioning of a life in isolation and learning and philosophy, either imparted by her parents, or by the multitude of books in her home. It is from them that she learned tolerance, and the basics of blacksmithing, as a life away from the majority of society required the small family to make their own tools and weapons.

Her quiet, if perilous, shelter would be disturbed one night when a waylaid patrol of Sentinels visited her family's abode, only to have her parents give her over to the warrior-women, who had been ambushed by a group of Satyrs, and lost one of their number. She was placed atop a Nightsaber, which surprisingly accepted her, clad in armor a bit too large for her young frame, a glaive in her hand. It did not feel heavy. She swung the weapon around herself. It felt easy, natural, her movements flowing. She smiled, not knowing much of what was to come. Her farewells were said to her parents in a hushed tone, a promiss that she would one day come back mouthed by her lips. Why the warriors took the youngest of the three to supplement their number would only later be revealed. The party of Sentinels moved on, following a forest trail. Soon, the Satyrs that had claimed the life of one of their number struck again, but this time, they were prepared. In such circumstances, Sylvandre's Nightsaber pounced on one of the corrupted enemies, whilst she struggled to keep on its saddle with one hand, the other brandishing the tri-bladed weapon, only to behead, by chance or skill, another Satyr. These were her first kills in military circumstances. The party reached Astranaar safely, and the young Sylvandre knew not the way to her home once more. She asked for an escort or guide back, but was granted none. She resigned to her new fate. She was to be a Sentinel.

Training began, and kept on going, and she developed into a warrior fit for defending the Kaldorei, and also an uncannily skilled blacksmith, using her previous, liberal and discretionary education to further her ability, maintaining and forging weapons and armor for the Sentinels she fought alongside with. This would continue for many years, mostly due to her own wish of working metals in parallel with her betterment as a warrior, all the way up ‘till the rediscovery of the Night Elven race by the Orcs. Hatred was spawned in her heart for the green-skinned race during the many skirmishes between the Night Elves and the Warsong Clan, seeing many of her sisters fall to Orc axes in front of her very eyes, which would often lead her to acts akin to frenzy in combat, gaining her the nickname of the Red Wind, from her Sentinel peers.

Fighting Orcs beat out of her the vision of the naive child, which she would only wear as a mask, beneath it a military mind, cunning and ruthless. She would put this, alongside her physical fitness, to the use of all of Azeroth by participating in the battle of Mount Hyjal. It was revealed to her that her parents were caught in the Legion's onslaught only after she fled combat upon hearing the Horn of Cenarius bellow its call that signified the end of Eternity for the Kaldorei.

In the aftermath of the battle, as the Alliance was forming, she had a very large amount of contact with the other races, her teachings of tolerance imparted by her parents finally coming through for her, finding it easy to mediate between her people and those of the enemies of the Horde. It was in such circumstances that she was discharged of her duty, for her ties became too loose to her own people, whose millennia-old isolation drove them to xenophobia, thus remaining a Sentinel only by name, for only should the call to defend her homelands come, would she take up post once more.

The call never came, and Sylvandre wandered the world, meeting a myriad of interesting and unusual beings, from the Dwarven Brewmaster Scotaidh Barleybrew who instilled in her the taste for alcohol, to a Human Combat Engineer whom had granted her the first taste of what love would be, only to steal it from her and teach her heartbreak. Another such person was the Human Mage Allandra, who attempted to read her personality in the form of a magical illusion, the reflection of her spirit being an Owl. She dubbed a small group of friends she'd formed ‘the Pride', dedicated to the eradication of injustice and corruption, quite akin to vigilantism. With the members of this group she slew the leader of the Thieves' Guild and his bodyguard. Afterwards she fought a more shadowy and devious enemy, though the full extent of the struggle may take years to materialize.

It is through the pursuit of vigilantism that the quest for justice in Sylvandre's heart started. She reunited with both her Sentinel sisters and attempted to attain a higher station, and as fate would have it, she was chosen by the Wardens for her exploits, and through the training offered therein, she became a veritable incarnation of justice in Night Elven form. Training itself served to reinforce Sylvandre's natural sense of fairness, duty and her pursuit of outlaws.

Prior to undergoing training as a Warden under Avelind Serpentstrike, Sylvandre had assassinated a leader of a shadow-and-Fel based organization, and in recent times, she's had a slew of adventures, from slaying various sorts of demons, to helping slay Doomlord to shooting down a Dreadlord into a canyon alongside a small Sentinel force, Sylvandre has been busy as can be.