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87 Human Warrior
8160
Welcome to the new boards. Time to break out those old character biographies and update them for the post-shattering world.
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87 Human Warrior
8160
Charagon Gravelmaker
Male Human
Warrior


Charagon was orphaned at a young age during the first orcish invasion of Stormwind. A boy of twelve desperately trying to protect his little brother, Vistra, he was rescued from certain death by Alles Gravelmaker. The old dwarf protected the children from the fires of war and led them into the highlands north of Loch Modan.

For many years Charagon lived in the wild north with his brother and adopted father, growing from a child into a young man. Fueled by a strong desire to protect his brother, Alles taught Charagon how to fight. This training was further enhanced through lessons from a companion of Alles’, the gnomish warrior, Veb.

The highlands put Charagon within close proximity to the orc infested Grim Batol where Alexstrasza, the Red Dragon Aspect, was held captive.

He had many close encounters with the Dragonmaw Orcs during his youth as he did what he could to aggravate their plans.

Finally, years after losing his home, Charagon caught wind of the Alliance’s counterattack to take back Stormwind from the orcs. Against his adoptive father’s wishes, Charagon set off to join the Alliance forces and reclaim his homeland.

Charagon fought bravely as the Alliance pushed the Horde back through the Dark Portal. His efforts did not go unnoticed and he escaped the war with not only his life, but a modest rank.

After the war, he was assigned to the Redridge Mountains to assist in the rebuilding and ongoing protection of Lakeshire.

Defending Lakeshire was not an easy task. Remnants of the Horde remained fortified in Blackrock Mountain. Orcs, ogres, and dragons unwilling to end the war continued their assault, making Lakeshire the frontline of battle.

Charagon, among with many others, became dedicated to protecting the defenseless city, but the Alliance’s offensive through the Dark Portal put too much of a strain on their resources. Charagon was called away before the area could be secured.

Refusing to leave the people of Lakeshire defenseless, Charagon deserted the army and stayed behind to defend the land. He, along with a number of other companions, became the unofficial protectors of the Redridge Mountains as the Alliance left them to their fate.

Included in these companions was Embrey Faol, a young paladin sent by the military to forcibly return Charagon to active duty. Instead, Embrey took up Charagon’s cause and together they helped bring relative safety to Lakeshire.

In between fighting Orcs, Charagon and Embrey found time to fight with each other until heated arguments turned to heated passion. Passion turned love, love turned to marriage, and marriage turned to parenthood as the couple built a home overlooking Lake Everstill.

Ten years happily passed until word came of a new threat in the north. Rumors of a strange plague and legions of undead filtered their way to Lakeshire. Unable to turn her back on the Alliance, Embrey left Redridge and returned to active duty to fight the legions of the Scourge. Now a single parent to a very active ten year-old girl, Charagon did his best to keep his life in order.

Five years passed as Charagon attempted to keep tabs on the welfare of his wife. He learned of Arthas’ betrayal and the death of Uther the Lightbringer. As the Knights of the Silver Hand were hunted and wiped out by the Lich King, he became increasingly torn between his duty to protect his wife and his responsibility to raise his child.

Jadeley, now a teenager, was becoming increasingly hard to handle as well. Though she looked like her mother, she had definitely inherited her father’s rebelliousness. After catching her in the act of pick pocketing one of the few Alliance solders that bothered to grace Lakeshire, Charagon made the decision to have his daughter sent to Northshire Abbey. Hoping that the teachers at the abbey would keep her disciplined and safe, Charagon set out to find his wife.
Edited by Charagon on 11/18/2010 11:39 PM PST
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80 Undead Death Knight
2470
Charlotte "Stringer" Bell

Lived in Southshore, she worked for her family's farm making deliveries. She was (and remains) a skilled rider and she was trained from a young age to be able to defend herself against thieves, brigands, roustabouts, and ruffians. Ambushed by the Scourge while riding through Silverpine Forest, she was made into one of their mindless warriors. She took part in the attack on Lordaeron and assisted in the construction of the Undercity. After being freed by Sylvanas, she took to fighting the Scourge, leading and participating in guerilla attacks in the Plaguelands. During one of these, she was captured, tortured, and once more made into a slave of the Lich King. Liberated once again by Highlord Mograine, she was overcome with rage and set off to Northrend. While fighting there, she collapsed due to exhaustion and was saved by a passing Shaman. Remaining anonymous, he brought her back to health and instructed her on keeping her emotions in check. She spent a year in seclusion, and has only recently returned to battle. She fights to redeem herself to her people and to the Horde, all the while struggling to maintain her mental and emotional discipline.
Edited by Stringerbell on 11/19/2010 9:19 AM PST
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76 Undead Mage
1110
Boris Redpath

He was born and raised in Darrowshire. He took to the arcane well still young, eventually studying in Dalaran. Always bookish, Boru (as he preferred to be called) was extremely interested in history and genealogy. He was called back to Darrowshire by his family to help defend it from the coming Scourge attack. Boru helped to set up the defenses, but abandoned the town the night before the attack and fled to Lordaeron. He lived in hiding there until the Scourge took over the city. After being freed by Sylvanas, he lived in Brill working on his as-yet-unfinished book A History of the Tirisfal Glades. He put this aside to join his people in the defense of the Horde, and in the expedition to Outland. After this, he briefly retired to his life as an Archivist, but the call of exploration and the desire to be a part of history pushed him to re-enlist in the service of the Horde and take off to Northrend. He is deliberate to a fault but can be overly verbose and occasionally condescending.
Edited by Boru on 11/19/2010 9:34 AM PST
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85 Undead Rogue
12295
KK guys i got my D20 and D6 where the pa....

wait a min this ant real RPING!!!
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85 Human Warlock
6590
Roleplaying.
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Reserved :3
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85 Blood Elf Rogue
5210
Resorved.

Edit: ~
Edited by Eclaire on 11/18/2010 8:30 PM PST
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85 Draenei Shaman
6625
Name: Naide (nye-eed, to rhyme with Sayeed)

Race: Draenei.

Gender: Female.

Age: Unknown. She's not exactly forthcoming.



Naide is a dark-complected draenei woman who wears a smile like she's the only one in on that joke. Her mercurial and even erratic behaviour have led some to speculate that, like many mystics, she's a bit... touched.

She seems to care little one way or the other about this or most anything else - indeed, at times she verges on amorality (though not quite immorality). The exceptions are, of course, the Elements and Spirit World, and the idiosyncratic 'balance' she seeks to create between them.

Naide serves as a generally reliable (if at times cryptic) messenger and courier for the Scarlet March. What she does in her spare time is anyone's guess, though it mostly likely involves a great deal of incense and communing with astral beings and so forth.

You know, shaman-y stuff.
Edited by Naide on 12/20/2010 3:52 AM PST
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85 Night Elf Priest
5505
Name: Imizael Amafis'dre
Race: Night Elf
Gender: Female
Age: Appears fairly young. Precise age is around 315.
Appearance/Description: If you were so lucky as to actually see this elf-- she doesn't seem to frequent anywhere in particular-- you'd probably note her standing out quite a bit. A sore thumb compared to all the other oh-so-plain characters shuffling about her, this Priestess (a fact solidified by her robes) seems to demand attention. Her behaviour and countenance is completely 'unbecoming' of a Night Elf, with a swagger and a confidence that would not be unusual in some human males.

Walking along the street, she's probably muttering to herself, ocassionally drawing some shapes in the air of some unreadable glyph. The lines she traces glow with an orange light before fading out into particles fizzling into midair.

Another notable attribute is the fact that the woman is shrouded in shadow. If it wasn't for her over-the-top movements, it would be an accomplishment to glimpse her face clearly. However, due to her flamboyance, you can catch flashes of bright white light where her eyes should sit underneath her hood.

___ ((The above is the basic MRP profile. The rest is here for this post, for those who might be able to perceive a bit more.)) ___

To the more observant or those more interested, there are more oddities about the woman. For one, the shadows around her seem to bend to her presence. When she walks through an area shrouded from the light, darkness seems to gather about her, as if she was gaining a crowd. It doesn't evoke a feeling of fear, as one may expect; in fact, it seems to inspire confidence in those who detect it.

More so, those sensitive to the more esoteric trappings of the magical world may detect something alarming about the Kal'dorei. Any attempt to tune in or detect the magics about her result in an effective needle-off-the-chart. It isn't that she's powerful, or that she is showing off-- no, it is as if a massive glut of Nether and Shadow energies are pooled in her presence. Obviously, a Shadow Priest walking about a town in her shadowy form is odd enough; but this near-literal geyser of power might almost overwhelm a novice observer.

___ ((Finally, a quick recent history of Imizael-- I have indeed RPed a bit lately, and this is the most up-to-date information.)) ___

Imizael has, as of late, been appearing to people at random. The few people she's spoken to seem to report that the priestess acts extremely odd, especially considering her normal attitude. She meets most people as if she's never seen them before, and only recognizes a few names from the March if they are mentioned to her. Most notably, her reaction to the quakes wreaking havoc on Azeroth borders psychotic-- she grasps her head as if in pain, and the normally docile Shadowflames about her twist into a violent vortex. As soon as the quake passes, however, she recovers quickly and seems to ignore that the event ever occurred.
Edited by Imizael on 11/19/2010 6:22 PM PST
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100 Blood Elf Warlock
13615
Reserved. :)
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80 Human Paladin
5055
Reserved~
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Reserving dis up in hur
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Velgarr the Wanderer,
Warbringer of the Lightning Bandits,
Thief of the Pokemon,
Magister of the Scarlet March,
Sometime King of Stormwind

Born in pre-Worgenized Gilneas before Genn went all shut-in to a thief and a woman whose "undying love" he purchased at a bargain rate, Velgarr rose up from the wilds and into the heart of the Road where he began extensive studies of skullduggery and minstrelry. In his brief time there, the young man's prowess with blade, story, and deflowering flourished, and his knowledge grew.

As the years passed, Velgarr weathered through the loss of his homeland and the destruction of his innocence, the loss of his latest female obsession to Rothide Gnolls and other various Scourge outside of Brill, and the betrayal of his own humanity as he was killed and later resurrected by Sylvanas Windrunner. Broken and weary, Velgarr followed his new queen into the unwanting arms of the Horde where hopefully brighter days could be had. It was then in the depths of the Undercity that the minstrel/aspiring warlock found his true calling--a trip to Orgrimmar to visit the Auction House:

Gug, the "Strike Lord" of the Horde Strike Farce, marched at the forefront of a monstrously viscous pile of would-be heroes, poised on his braindead war-wolf. “YUM YUM DINNER!” He bleated and the host of livestock-like imbeciles behind him roared back. Velgarr watched them move past and was surprised that he was able to remain standing despite the nausea he felt. He called out to one and hurried along beside him, “What is your problem, fellow man-like-creature?!” And then a dim semblance of a light appeared in that orc’s eyes and he raised a hand into the air. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU JUST SAID!"

Disgusted, Velgarr decided to cure the Plague of Undeath and go join the Scarlet March for a little bit before leaving to become a Pokemon Thief (and the King of Stormwind).
=-=

Since returning from Northrend, Velgarr has become a Magister of the Scarlet March thanks to his carnal understanding and skill with the grooming habits of dragons, giving him a small portion of [censored] within Royastrasz himself. Currently, the King of Stormwind has been helping his colleague Solarea uncover the true magical properties of human/draenei cross-species fertilization.

He takes great pleasure knowing that home in Stormwind is only a Hearthstone away and returns there often when the pangs in his loins return. Between stealing Pokemon and the hearts of women, Velgarr has found little time to spend on himself. One day, though young he may be, his desire for a family may overcome his fear of commitment and paranoia that his own child will usurp his rightful place. But peace (and a good enough piece) needs to be obtained first. The Pokemon must all be stolen.

But the elements heave and the world shakes. The ley-lines of Azeroth are bending. A new threat rises--and makes Royastrasz's dragony bits look tiny and shriveled in comparison--and peace (as well as that hot piece) may yet, once again, be out of reach (for now).
Edited by Velgarr on 11/19/2010 12:33 AM PST
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85 Blood Elf Rogue
7810
Tall, thin, graying at the temples. Looks lazy. Wears a black scarf completely concealing his throat. The top half of his right ear is missing. Wears a chain earring halfway up his left ear. Has a very hoarse, rasping, grating voice. Smells very faintly of leather, sweat, and sweet, herbal smoke.

---

I grew and lived with honor, but I was twisted somewhere along the way. Tempered, made into a tool that is neither sword nor spell. False light hiding a shadow in the dark, with a troubled mind and a troubled soul. I left my people behind at the same time as my people abandoned me, and were swallowed by the nether. Once wed with death and once with murder. I take pride in my service, but not joy in the darkness I wield. I fight for my life against the enemies on all sides, defending those who would call me ally. A spirit of strife to stalk the battlefield, taking a life to leap to the next, and again, and again, before finally vanishing like smoke. My name is Zwingley Vey’ryan Asamyl, and I am called Conqueror.

“Lok'tar ogar! Victory or death - it is these words that bind me to the Horde. For they are the most sacred and fundamental of truths to any warrior of the Horde. I give my flesh and blood freely to the Warchief. I am the instrument of my Warchief's desire. I am a weapon of my Warchief's command. From this moment until the end of days I live and die – for the Horde!”

Those words I have spoken with my voice, my thoughts, and my soul many times. They are my truth. I bind myself to the Warchief, and do not cling to the weakness of my peoples’ addictions, only indulging when I must to survive. Yet there is much to do without the Warchief’s attention. The lands of the Horde must be defended, and there does my soul linger, in Durotar with red dust swirling around me, but battle cannot be stayed. With blades in hand, I fight, I bleed, and I kill. Even instrumental to my Warchief’s desire, I will not stand for the Alliance to invade our lands, and so once again; I fight, I bleed, and I kill. My Warchief desires peace, but I am a spirit of strife.

And when the battlefields are calm I take my ease, with an insincere grin on my face, with a pipe or a drink in hand, drowning myself in sensations to forget my past and my problems, a picture of ease, until the next battle begins. And so the spirit of strife rises, and says to you: “Follow your path far and beyond. Believe, and do not falter. Move on until you break. After that… I will take over,” and with the snap of a cloak and the swish of a scarf, I am gone.


---

((If you want a better bio, you can damn well RP with me.))
Edited by Zwingley on 11/19/2010 2:07 PM PST
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Reporting in. Reserved. Bio to come.
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85 Human Priest
6580
I roleplay. Character description is in my RSP, but basically WYSIWYG. Character history is way too long to share here, but here's the extremely watered-down version:

Manari Adomnan, priestess, is the accidental leader of the Scarlet March. She's young(ish), but has seen a lot of pretty terrible crap in a few very short years. This has served to make her personality somewhat unapproachable. She is friends with unlikely people. She is very interested in concepts of balance.

Also she's a moderate empath (because everyone has to be a special snowflake somehow). It's like a mind-reader, but with FEELINGS.

Also she really likes honey. :3
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