Xanic

Information

Player: Stormgald

Character Full Name: Xanic, (Name Before Death: Tarion Fairwing.)

Character In-Game Name: Xanic

Nickname(s): N/a

Association(s): The Ebon Blade, Coven of Sorrows.

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Death Knight

Age: 250 Years

Gender: Male

Hair: A dead, sky blue

Eyes: Lich blue

Weight: 220lbs

Height: 6'6”

Appearance

Usual Garments/Armor: Xanic usually dresses in his rust colored runic plate gear. He also carries his twin rune-machetes.

Personality

Xanic is very odd, he can be kind and caring but often rude and cruel. External causes vary greatly, due to his erratic mindset. The voices in his head can sway him to think differently about certain people and to make rash decisions. He may find himself getting a hero hairdo, or playing villain. Xanic is very unpredictable, his actions are almost always uncertain, even to himself.

Alignment: Lawful Evil

History

Tarion (Xanic) was born in Silvermoon City, sired by his parents Vaina and Talin Fairwing. Ever since he was a small child, Tarion had been fascinated by weapons and fighting. He wanted to join the Silvermoon army so badly, he just couldn't wait until he was of age.

Almost a century had past, a century filled with fun and cheerful times, but it was time to grow up, Tarion had been fantasizing about joining the Silvermoon Guard far too long. Now was the time to act.

Years had past, years filled with hard training and discipline. Tarion was ready. Ready to fight, ready to serve. Small skirmishes had been fought here and there but Tarion was never sent into any battles of great importance during the third war. One day after a few hours of fighting, Tarion and a small camp of other Elves were resting, celebrating and enjoying the day's victory, when a courier arrived with news from families back in Silvermoon. Tarion had received a letter that his parents bore another child, a girl. A tear welling up in Tarion's eye. A sister, he had a sister...

The skirmishes got smaller and smaller, until one day the soldiers had received word that they were being called back, the reasons were unknown but that didn't bother any of them. Tarion made haste back to Silvermoon on his glorious Hawkstrider along with his comrades. When they arrived, they saw their city to be as glorious as ever. Small crowds offering them food, drink and thanks. Tarion could not wait, he had to see his family. He dismounted his Hawkstrider and hurried home to find his whole family waiting anxiously. They talked and drank and had a wonderful time. Velonaria had already been walking and talking for some time now. Tarion could not believe he had a small sister, he was happier than ever, the whole family reunited in a glorious and wonderful manner.

A small amount of time had passed, one morning, the loud sounds of weapons clashing and screams could be heard. Tarion darted upward from his bed, threw his armor on and ran outside, only to find chaos... The Scourge were attacking. He told his family to take shelter in the wine cellar. Tarion ran back outside and joined the fight with his comrades. “Hold the line!” a captain cried at his soldiers. Arrows flying everywhere, Tarion was frightened, he had never seen a battle of this magnitude. Tarion began spearing the Scourge Warriors with his Polearm, many of them barely reacted due to the severity of their decomposition. Tarion's spear simply finding its way through rib bones and such. Though many of them were hard to destroy, many of them were not. His comrades were falling quicker than he could comprehend. Soon Tarion found himself fatigued, he could not fight any longer. He could feel the burning in his muscles, his fighting slowed significantly, suddenly he was pierced by an arrow in the shoulder as he cried out in agony. He dropped to his knees as another scourge soldier swung his blade at his side, blood spurting out as Tarion cried out again. It all seemed to be slow, sounds were muffled, pain dulling slowly. He could feel himself drifting off. 'Pull it together!' he thought. 'You cannot die, you cannot!' his ego getting the best of him. In one last breath, he roared as he jumped to his feet and started spearing as many Scourge as he possibly could. Another arrow pierced his side, another and another. He dropped once again as blood poured from his mouth. Blackout...

He awoke. Everything was blurry. His thoughts were jumbled. He couldn't make sense of anything. Whispering voices could be heard, 'Xanic,' 'Xanic...' 'Xanic.' As he started to make sense of his surroundings he noticed that he was standing. He felt cold, ice cold. He could not remember anything, not a thought. He stared himself down, he was wearing red and gold elven armor. Was he an elf? The voices returned, 'death...' Suddenly the lust for blood overwhelmed him. His muscles began to tremor as he lost time. It was all a blur, screams, blood... It was as if he had no control over his own body. A prisoner within himself. His mind emerged once again, he stared at his surroundings. Bodies... Everywhere... Did he do this? He saw other undead soldiers slaying these crusaders without thought. What was happening? He stared at his palms. Dark runic plate gauntlets. He was so cold and so confused. The whispering voices returned, 'Xanic,' He curled his fingers into fists, stared blankly and repeated in a whisper, “Xanic...”

Xanic unclenched his fist as a loud roar erupted. He looked up into the gloomy sky as an enormous Frost Wyrm flew overhead. Then another, and another. The Crusaders began firing their trébuchets and cannons at the fleet of dragons, but to no avail. The Frost Wyrms swooped, destroying the artillery with their enormous talons. The Crusaders erupted into a full charge against the Death Knights. Xanic fought off numerous Crusaders, taking a hit here and there.

After a few long hours, the battle ended. The Death Knights were victorious. As Xanic's group of Death Knights returned to the Ebon Hold, they had found Highlord Darion Mograine speaking to all of the Knights. Apparently Arthas had betrayed the Death Knights. Something had happened while Xanic's group was still fighting. Arthas had ordered an attack on the Light's Hope Chapel, Darion Mograine and the Death Knights had lost the battle and as they did Arthas revealed his true intentions, abandoned Mograine and his Knights and fled to Northrend. From this the Ebon Blade was born.

Ever since, Xanic has become a wanderer. He returns to the Ebon Hold often but can mostly be found in Northrend.