Brothers: Beginning

"By the gods, Laric, he's too young!" she yelled, her deep, brown eyes filling with angry tears. The man she addressed almost seemed not to hear her, his own eyes dark, his straight, brown hair falling loose to hide his features. She couldn't stop him, she knew that, he was a knight and her lord. He was far too powerful, too stubborn, and too set in his ways. His armor gleamed in the lamplight, and he had his helmet tucked securely under his arm.

"Hannah," he said, almost a whisper, "Do not ever tell me how to raise my sons. Ever. Loem is old enough, at eleven, especially in these times of war, to serve me as a squire. He's intelligent and further ahead than most pages his age as it is. He's ready. I've made my decision, he's ready to go." He buckled and tightened his vambraces, the symbol of Lordaeron clearly visible on their metal surface, with the blue and maroon ribbons representing Laric's house surrounding the crest. Hannah knew, outside, his warhorse was waiting and no doubt Loem was there, too, waiting for his Master and father.

"Laric... Laric, he's a boy. A young boy. You're taking him to war, to fight orcs and gods know what else, and-"

"Enough. You will address me as 'Lord Laric' or not at all." Laric turned, his face hard as stone. "Hannah, I've asked you to care for Leodry. I've asked you this because you were my wife's best and closest friend, nearly a sister, and I trust you. But that's enough. You, as a woman, do not have the capacity to understand the rigors of war and battle, and that's fine. In fact, I am glad that you do not have to know these things, as it's for a man to know, not one of such fragile constitution as yourself. Loem is going to be fine. He'll be in camp, tending to me on the road... never on a battlefield. He'll be constantly surrounded by some of the finest warriors and knights Lordaeron has to offer. I do not fear for his safety. Neither should you."

With that, he turned to go. Hannah followed, afraid, but unable to convince him. Lord Laric's warhorse and two packhorses were outside, one carrying the eleven-year-old Loem, already wearing his father's colors and carrying a small banner with Laric's crest, the other laden with supplies for their long journey. Loem seemed at ease, even excited, but it did nothing to quell the fear in Hannah's heart. This was Elaine's son, her best friend's boy, and it tugged at her heart as if he was her own flesh and blood.

Laric turned to another boy, much younger than the squire mounted nearby. Unlike his lithe, even graceful brother, he was shorter and had broader shoulders. His eyes were green, like his mother's, but he was built like his father, stocky and strong. And, also like his father, Leodry could be terribly stubborn. Even before Hannah could make it down the path after the armored knight, she could hear the boy complaining.

"I want to go with you, father! Loem gets to go! I'm strong! I can fight!"

Laric smiled. "Loem is much older than you, and has trained very hard as my squire. When I get home from the battles, I'll make sure you continue your own training. Maybe I'll even bring you your first sword, if you're good for Auntie Hannah, or maybe an orcish axe as tall as you are." He ran his hand over his younger son's head, grinning sadly, for a moment like any father saying goodbye... but it ended quickly as he gently but firmly pushed his son towards the waiting woman.

She wanted to run forward and scoop him up into her arms, to comfort him, but she couldn't... not with her lord still here who would no doubt find that overstepping her bounds. The poor boy carried only a single small bag and it probably carried all his possessions. The stubborn lord was known to live a spartan life and no doubt tried to get his sons to do the same. She pitied him, pitied both boys, who have had to grow up without a mother. At least Loem had some time with her, before bearing Leodry into the world took Elaine's life.

"Hannah," Laric said, swinging into his saddle, "Take care of him. Make sure he continues his training. Make him work, give him discipline. I don't want my boy going soft while I'm away." With that, he turned his horse and left. Hannah and Leodry stood, watching the knight and squire's backs as they rode away, Leodry trying his best to hide tears and cry quietly so that his father wouldn't hear.

"Oh, Leodry... you can cry. It's alright," she whispered. The young boy just shook his head.

"Papa says I shouldn't cry. That tears don't make things better, just make you look weak."

Hannah sighed, exasperated with Lord Laric even more. "Sometimes... sometimes you feel so sad that it's like poison inside you. I always think that tears wash that poison out, that if you keep it inside it makes you sick. So go ahead and cry, Leodry. It'll make you feel a little better."

Hannah waited with the boy until the fireflies were all they could see, then took his hand and led him back to the house. Inside, the fire had burned low and the lamp was nearly out. She and her husband had cleared out a small room for the boy, one they had been using to dry and preserve the harvest from their fields. Though the room still smelled a bit like dried meat, herbs, and jams, it would serve has his room for the hopefully short duration of the war.

"Tomorrow, Uncle Danir will return from the market in town. He'll teach you how to help with the fields, and the plow. I hope you'll be happy here, Leodry. Try to get some sleep." She closed the door behind herself and closed her eyes, a silent prayer on her mind. Elaine... please. Watch over your husband. Watch over your son. I'll do my best to keep your youngest safe from harm, but Loem...

A single tear slid down her cheek and fell into her light brown hair. The night was still and peaceful, but morning couldn't come quickly enough.

Into the Skies of the Outlands

It was terribly hot, but then it was always hot on the peninsula. Affectionately called "Hellfire Peninsula" by the soldiers stationed there, the broken land was characterized by its orange hue, dark skies, and the countless demons that made their home there.

Seona Lightstone, paladin of the Alliance, was riding south at speed, making for the outpost of Honor Hold. Her horse, Caliburn, was accustomed to the harsh conditions at this point and would barely snort at the flames that occasionally erupted from the reddish soil. He was far more concerned when one of the huge sand worms would pop out instead, but even then he'd simply swerve away, allowing his rider to jump off and deal with the threat.

Seona swore a bit as another plume of smoke and flame erupted to their right, closer than she'd like. "I could feel that one, Cal. We'd better get away from this ridge as soon as it's safe." A few Helboars scattered as they pushed onward, squealing and grunting in their wake. Seona ignored them, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the broken keep could be seen through the shimmering heat. Honor Hold held more than just the Alliance. It also held a well-known Gryphon breeder.

For weeks, the lady paladin had been in constant contact with her estate manager back in Ironforge. As soon as she had heard that the gryphon rider and breeder were relocating to Honor Hold she had asked about her funds. She knew the prices would be steep, but learning to fly was not just a dream... it was a necessity. Caliburn had served her well, would continue to serve her well, but the ability to fly would make her tasks far simpler and more efficient.

The broken walls of the keep were looming above her as these thoughts went through her mind, and she breathed a slight sigh of relief as they passed guards and neared the stables. She slowed Caliburn to a walk and looked around for the Wildhammer dwarf that trained the soldiers to fly the gryphons his people so carefully bred for the Alliance army.

She spotted him near the stables, once filled with Alliance warhorses, now home to various young gryphons ready to be sold. He was a solid-looking dwarf, and obviously a Wildhammer. Older, his hair and beard solidly silver, he was nevertheless quite intimidating in his barbaric looking armor and his face covered in the tattoos his clan favored. Still, Seona wouldn't be intimidated. Dismounting, she led Caliburn forward.

He noticed her approach and waved her forward. "'Ere for trainin'?" he asked, his demeanor all business. Seona nodded. "Very well. I'm Hargen Bronzewing. I 'eard you'd be comin' from the guard. Yer Seona Lightstone, correct?" Again, Seona nodded, a little more comfortable. She had done some work for Honor Hold before moving further north to the Temple. It seems her work was remembered.

"Me fee is 540 Gold. Ye can purchase a gryphon from me sister, Grunda, once you've mastered my techniques." He waited, then, patiently, as Seona reached into her pack to sort out the gold. A steep fee indeed, although she got the impression that her standing with the Honor Hold guard may have worked in her favor. Once the money had changed hands, she prepared for her training.

"Truth be told, ye won't need to learn too much new from me. Ye have a good seat on that beast of yourn already. Could see tha' as ye rode in." Seona blushed a bit at the compliment. "I'll jus' teach ye a few new commands fer a gryphon and how to saddle 'em up. Ye've ridden gyphons before, o'course..."

The lesson took only a few hours, but despite his warning of not learning much, Seona found her head filled with all kinds of new information. How to saddle a gryphon, what they ate, how to care for their feathers, how to groom their fur, the commands for flight as well as the ground, how to tell if it was ill or injured... it was a great deal to take in. Still, Hargen was a good teacher and had her flying perfectly by the end of the lesson, as well as saddling and grooming a gryphon without mistakes.

"Good. Ye're ready," he said, clapping her on the back. She smiled, thanking him.

"Master Bronzewing, might I ask for your opinion?" Seona asked, nervous about picking a mount from the collection in the stable.

He smiled. "O'course. I'm glad you did, actually. I know these gryphons like they're me own children. Seeing that beast of yourn already, I know ye can handle something a bit more stubborn. I think I know of a good match fer ye."

Hargen lead her through the stable to a young, golden gryphon. His piercing eyes seemed to look straight through her. He was a proud animal, and intelligent. She didn't reach out to him right away, getting a nod from Hargen for her prudence. "Smart lass. He's a bit of a handful, at first, but once he knows who's boss, he'll settle right down fer ye. He's got endurance and has a bit of growing to do yet. Regardless he'll serve ye well, if ye pick 'im." With that, he turned and left, no doubt needing to train another to ride.

Seona peered into the gryphon's eyes and knew she'd take him. Not just because Hargen thought they made a good pair, but because he seemed familiar somehow. "Tha's a good lad. Finally found yerself a rider, then?"

Grunda had come up quietly, her armor much like her brother's and her face sporting similar tattoos. "'E may not be as flashy as some of our other stock," she said, gesturing to the pure white and the darker varieties of gryphon in the stable that caught the attention of so many other riders, "But he's a good heart. And he'll serve ye till the day 'e dies, 'e will, if ye prove ye can 'andle 'im."

Seona smiled. "I'm certainly willing to do so."

She gave up the last of her gold to Grunda, paying for the beautiful, golden gryphon. Her training fees had already paid for food, supplies, and tack for the animal, so it was simply a matter of leading him out and saddling up.

"I'll call you Zephyr," she whispered, swinging into the saddle, and taking off, the heat falling behind as they spiraled up into the dark, starry sky. "Zephyr."

Thoughts: Worgen

Worgen.

Bestial, angry, dangerous... and the new Alliance race once Cataclysm goes live. I'm beyond excited for Cataclysm, and for the opportunities it will bring. There's time, still, of course. Lots of time. The expansion won't be here until next year, earliest, and it will probably come out around the same time Lich King did. Still, hearing all the news regarding the next expansion is exciting. Ideas have already started cropping up in my head. I'm definitely going to create a worgen, but what class? What gender? What trade-skills will I want my worgen to have? It's a great deal to think about from an RP perspective.

From Blizzard directly, regarding the new Alliance class:

Worgens have a racial ability called Darkflight, which allows the worgen to temporarily increase their movement speed by 70%, and can be used every three minutes. This activated ability, like entering combat, will also force the worgen into its true form. Other worgen racials include a passive 1% increase to all damage, reduced duration from the effects of curses and disease, and a bonus to skinning, as well as the ability to skin faster.

All-in-all, very interesting racials, which allow for added depth for a backstory and lore. So now the questions have to be answered when rolling a new Worgen:

Male or Female? For me, it's purely aesthetic. I'm certain I could roleplay either one just fine. I have a great many male human toons, but not one female (not sure why... perhaps it's due to their eerie way of never blinking). While out of combat, you can choose to look human, so that has to be taken into account. The worgen form is purely cosmetic, although required while in combat, so it's what you'll see most. Perhaps I'll have one of my current toons become infected with the Worgen curse? A worgen rogue would be quite amazing...

What Class? Worgen can be anything but a Paladin or a Shaman. That still leaves Druid, Hunter, Mage, Priest, Rogue, Warlock, Warrior, and Death Knight. That's a great many to choose from. If I were to create one on my RP server, I would no doubt try to level a class I don't currently have near level cap... which is pretty much everything, to be honest (Pally, Death Knight, Warrior are the only ones I have over level 60). Perhaps I will go for that rogue after all... (hehe, poor Loem). A DPS class would benefit from the extra 1% to overall damage, and the reduced damage from diseases/curses/etc. would help in PvP.

What Professions? If I did indeed infect Loem with the Worgen curse, creating a Worgen Rogue character, I'd probably go skinning/leatherworking. To begin with, Worgen get an excellent bonus to skinning. It makes the most sense lore-wise as well. Leatherworking meshes best with skinning, obviously, and I've never actually leveled it up all the way, making it a new experience. At least a rogue will always have need of leather armor.

What's a Worgen's Background? Worgen (at least the playable kind) come from Gilneas, one of the older, human kingdoms on the Eastern Kingdoms continent. It's located behind the large Greymane Wall, sealed off from the rest of the world when the Scourge attacked, shortly after the 2nd war. Essentially, King Greymane chose to abandon the Alliance after coming to the conclusion that the Alliance needed the Gilneans far more than Gilneas needed the Alliance. Unfortunately for him, Arugal, an archmage, decided the only way to hold off the undead Scourge was to summon strange creatures... the Worgen. Barely controllable, Arugal found a way to curse humans with the Worgen affliction, turning them into the beasts. He made them his "children" and took up residence in what is now known as Shadowfang Keep.

New players will start in Gilneas, most probably before the Greymane wall has fallen, with phasing technology used to get the player from their home kingdom to the world outside. This would mean than any character would actually be a native to Gilneas (unless you were really stretching the story, or your character was older than the usual 24 or 25 years old). Or, I suppose you could really, really stretch and say you were one of Arugal's worgen, now freed from his control...

Regardless, I'm excited. I do think that a Worgen will be my second level 85, after my main.

Diary of a Sentinal: Four

The Draenei had accepted me, had helped me, and had taught me many things, including how to use a crossbow. I took to the weapon quickly, realizing that it was more powerful than the bows of my people. Citrine had followed me all the way from Teldrassil to the Azuremist island where the strange race had fallen in their craft.

After spending a great deal of time with them, I got to know them and found them to be quite similar to the Kal'dorei. I felt at ease. When they came to me, asking for help, I readily agreed. It was when Achelus sent me out that I found my second companion. Achelus, the poor, unfortunate man, was part of a research team that had uncovered a terrible spider nest up in the hills. I had never seen spiders such as these, covered in spikes and screeching. They unnerved me more than most things did. He asked me to kill them, including their brood mother, Zarakh.

I did so, gladly, as they were dangerous to the refugees from the Exodar. Blood Watch would not be safe until they were destroyed. As I continued up into the hills, I finally found them. Another researcher from Achelus' team, Cornelius, was just outside the pass, desperate for help. He begged me to free any others from his team that may still be alive in the wrapped webbing found all along the path up into the hills. I agreed, hoping I'd find some alive. The spiders were terrible, twisted creatures, affected by the contamination of the island and the crystals from the Exodar. As I slew the large spiders, I moved further up the hill, surrounded by more and more webbing and dead and dying prey. Thankfully, I was able to find a few more survivors from the research team, but all I could do was free them and tell them to run. It was at the top of the hill that I finally faced off against Zarakh, the mother of them all. Poison from the spiders coursed through my body and Citrine's speed was off as she no doubt was also poisoned and in pain. It was a wonder we survived.

I had feared for my life before, during the wars, but I was never as unnerved or scared as I was then. These spiders, with their otherworldly screeching and skittering, were terrifying, even to one such as myself. It was possible their poison affected the mind as well. Shaking, doing my best to fight the venom, I layed a trap for the brood mother, stepped back, and fired. Enraged, the giant spider rushed, falling into my trap and, finally, succumbing to my attack.

What possessed me then, I do not know. Behind the giant spider were egg sacks. Most of them looked normal and a few were even hatching, showing much smaller, less dangerous versions of the colorful arachnids I had slain on the way to the top that no doubt would grow into the terrible monsters I had already killed. There were a few eggs, though, that looked different... larger, I thought, and darker. The researchers at the base might want to look at them, and now that Citrine and I had cleared a path, the going would be easier. I took several, placing them in my pack, hoping they'd not hatch soon.

The researchers were indeed pleased with my prizes and Achelus thanked me. With the researchers saved, I breathed a sigh of relief and continued aiding them. It was many mornings later, near dawn, as I was hunting near Blood Watch that something in my pack jumped. I dropped it swiftly and moved back, guessing what had happened. I had counted the eggs I had taken, and had thought all of them had been given to the researchers. Perhaps on my way down, I had brushed close to another eggsack and it had fallen in? Or perhaps I hadn't gotten rid of them all... regardless, I recognized the movement even when confined in my pack, and the screech that sounded a moment later confirmed my fear. One of the spiders was inside.

It managed to find it's way out, slowly, one black leg after another until it was free. I was surprised to see what appeared to be a much smaller Zarakh, the shiny, black and red exoskeleton covered in spikes and thorny growths. It moved as if confused and I immediately threw a bit of meat away from my bag, hoping it would follow and then run away into the forest. At first, I thought my plan had worked, as it charged after the fresh kill, quickly eating the red meat, but surprised me when it then turned and rushed back towards me, screeching. I backed up, away from my kill. The damn creature had associated me with food.

Still, as I sat watching the spider devour what was going to be my dinner, I thought about how terrifying he looked, how unnerving he was to even me. As often as I found myself in the middle of battlefields, I had to think that he'd be even worse against an enemy. He finished it off, and charged me again, but this time I was ready. I had dried meat rations in my bag and managed to slow him down long enough to feed him, finally sating his hunger.

I shall call you Obsidian, I had thought to myself, and watched gleefully as the great spider followed me tamely. It would be a few bites and trials later that he would completely controlled, but he has proven to be as potent in battle against my enemies as I could have wished. Now, his screech is almost welcome, as it warns me of prowling enemies, and his spitting web can snare fleeing targets long enough for me to come to the fight. His poison sacks were removed, for my saftey as well as others, but he is more than enough to defeat most.

Obsidian, my spider of death, my living snare. A true soldier.

Diary of a Sentinal: Three

I am a hunter. As such, I am usually sent out to track down the enemy, to lay traps for any that would approach, and to become a master of the bow. Or gun, as the case may be. My other gift, though, is through my deep spiritual connection to the living world. I am never alone, even when on a scouting mission, because my animal companions are always with me.

When I first returned to my people after my long time alone, I had to enter Teldrassil. I never felt happy there, as I could feel the deep taint of the tree, even then. Still, I managed to endure and learn more about myself and my abilities. When I was ready, my master sent me out to find an animal companion. I was anxious, not of the beasts themselves, but of my indecision. I had no idea what kind of creature I should choose. I knew that it had to be a creature I could count on, one that would protect me, and one that could take care of itself, if need be.

I had left Dolanaar without a clue as to where I should go or what I should do. I walked the woods, seeking a creature I could count on. There were the cats, creatures my people revered and were connected to, but I could not bring myself to choose one of them. They all seemed... wrong, somehow, perhaps because of the very nature of the tree. The large, green spiders had more intelligence than most gave them credit for, but they seemed too fragile... and dangerous for a first companion. I walked far, suddenly finding myself back in Aldrassil, in Shadowglen.

When I had first arrived in Teldrassil, I had been sent to Shadowglen to prove my worth and my abilities. I learned much, both about myself and about nature. The boars and cats in Shadowglen had multiplied too quickly, throwing nature's natural balance out of proportion. I had helped cull a few of the beasts before, and decided to help again... this time, though, I'd not kill the creature I chose.

Citrine was everything I could hope for. She's quite affectionate, hardy, and intelligent. Her coarse, golden hair may not be the most appealing, but she's a much finer companion than I expected, for a boar. It took time to get her to accept me, to train her. Citrine is a Thistle Boar, and, as far as I know, they are a much smaller offshoot of the Goretusk variety. These small Thistle boars are only found on Teldrassil. While her disposition towards me is quite loveable, a single command from me will find her attacking, charging and goring any enemy.

My other companion was found while I was amongst the Draenei. But his is a very different story, one of danger and fear.

Diary of a Sentinal: Two

I suppose I should write a bit about why I chose to live as I do now, as it seems so against my ideals. For a Kal'dorei, nature is sacred and the natural world is more than our home, it is part of our souls and lives. I have chosen to travel far, to open myself to the strange new peoples of the world, and to learn of things I know my mother would abhor. I do not regret my more recent decisions, but I know they must seem strange to others, especially amongst the Kal'dorei.

When the Great Alliance appeared in our forests, fighting against the Orcish-led Horde, we were as distrustful of them as we were of the Orcs. They were, however, fighting against the terrible greenskins who ruined our sacred forests and our Priestess, Tyrande, and her lover, the Archdruid Malfurion, chose to work with them when faced with the terror of the Burning Legion. They are now our stalwart allies, even if they are quite strange. Even I must admit, the Humans, Dwarves, and Gnomes have taught us what it is like to live mortal lives, something all of the Kal'dorei must now accept and adapt to.

I have chosen to learn of Engineering, a craft and profession previously held by the Goblins and Gnomes alone. My knowledge is, for now, quite basic, and I find myself often stumbling over the strange ideas and unnatural materials. I know my mother would despise such a decision. It was Goblin Shredder machines that destroyed - and continue to destroy - so much of our forests. I see my choice as a way to better understand the enemy. Also, the various weapons you can create using these skills are superior to what I have used in the past, and explosives, while dangerous, are excellent to have in a battle. To ignore them because they are "unnatural" is foolish, as our enemies have no such qualms.

I also left the Sentinals to pursue a life on my own, alone. No doubt my former Sisters, the ones that survived, would never understand... But they do not have to understand in order to accept my decision. My choice was actually made to escape, to get away, to run... after the war, I was lost, confused and broken. My time alone, living as a hermit, was helpful to heal my spirit and mind, but it stunted my social skills as I became more animal than Elf. It was then, that a terrible event occurred off the coast. I remember seeing it from the forest: the huge trail of fire and smoke, and the roar of the engines... the Exodar, a ship from another world, crashed into the islands off the coast of Ashenvale.

My curiosity and my inner need to investigate the damage to the land drove me from hiding, and I returned to my people for a short time. After stocking up on supplies, and finding my companion, Citrine, a small, golden-yellow boar from Teldrassil, I took a ship to the islands to see what could be done. It turns out that the ship had inhabitants, now known, of course, as the Draenei, another race to join the Alliance.

From them, I learned how to use a crossbow and did what I could to aid them in healing the land. In the Draenei, I found kindred spirits, in a way. They are old, most older than a great portion of the Kal'dorei, and have great power. Still, I found them far more comforting than what was left of my people, who were still confused and distrustful. It was the Draenei that enabled me to continue, to grow, and to choose a new path. It was also in this land that I found my second companion and fellow soldier, Obsidian, a thorny, black spider. Though frightening to behold, especially to my enemies, he shows me affection, of a sort, and is the best companion I could ask for on a battlefield.

I decided the only way to find a new path was to explore. So explore I did. I left Kalimdor entirely and sailed East, to the kingdom of Stormwind and then to Khaz Modan, the homeland of the Dwarves and Gnomes. I learned much, saw much, and accepted that the relative peace of Ashenvale was false. The world was steeped in bloody war and I had to step aside or fight.

I choose to fight. The Alliance has need of my skills, such as they are, and I do my best to provide. I have fought in what is known as Warsong Gulch, a valley between Horde and Alliance territories in Kalimdor. The battle there is for lumber and a foothold in my people's sacred forest. I stand as I once did as a Sentinal, but this time my allies are not just Kal'dorei. Humans, Dwarves, Gnomes, and even the Draenei also stand with me to push the Horde out of our lands.

I have, more recently, been called to fight in and near the Arathi Highlands, where the Forsaken, former humans who succumbed to the Scourge plague, now nothing more than walking, rotting corpses, try to take land from the League of Arathor, a group of Humans who are members of the once mighty kingdom of Stromgarde. These lands are fractured and the Kingdom of Stromgarde itself is nearly entirely destroyed, but the resources in the Arathi Basin are needed for the war efforts elsewhere. We cannot allow the Forsaken to use the land for their nefarious and deadly deeds, whatever they may be.

I have become a true Sentinal, not just for the Kal'dorei and our forests, but for all of Azeroth. I'll not stand aside as the Horde, the Legion, and the Scourge do their best to destroy the world. My journey is only just beginning down this new path my life has taken, but I know that it is the right path.

My feet may falter. I may lose my way. But I will find the path again and again, and this time...

This time, I have far more allies at my side.

Diary of a Sentinal: One

I don't know why I bother writing in this thing.

Perhaps it's because I have no family to speak to about difficulties and hard decisions. I have no siblings (that I know of, at any rate), and my parents are gone.

My mother, may Elune keep her and protect her as she dances amongst the stars, passed from this world many moons ago. She was beautiful and graceful. She loved to dance, especially, and tried to teach me. I fear I find less joy in dancing and music than she did, but still, her teachings made me laugh and I remember them fondly. She was a priestess of the Moon Goddess Elune. She tried to get me to follow the same path, but I was far more interested in joining the Sentinals. I sometimes regret that decision, as it has brought me much pain and sorrow, but nevertheless it is my path and I walk it willingly.

My father... well. I know little of him. Now that I have seen the other cultures and peoples of our world, I understand that other races bond in a ceremony of some kind, usually for life. We Kal'dorei are a little less... rigid in our choice of relationships. My father stayed with my mother until just after I was born. Then, as I understand it, he left again. My mother harbored him no ill will, but I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to know him. To learn from him. I do know he was a Druid of the Talon, and that he loved to fly. He would tell stories to my mother about the sky and the clouds and the forest from above.

Sometimes I wish I had his gifts. The thought of soaring above the trees in the dark twilight, the moon and stars overhead and the forest below and nothing but the rush of the wind to keep me company... it is a good dream. But no. It is not my path.

Instead I learned of tracking and of bows and arrows and fletching. I learned how to scout and how to set traps for enemies and prey. I became attuned to nature and the forest around me, including it's creatures. I lived this way for several centuries, content.

Then everything changed.

The world as I understood it was shattered. The orcs, green-skinned monsters from far beyond our borders invaded, raping our forests, using loud, dirty machinery to destroy our sacred places and murdered Cenarius, demigod and child of our Goddess. I fought with the other Sentinals, tried to push the Orcs and trolls back, only to face the demons that followed after. The Burning Legion had found us.

How I survived the battles that ensued, I'll never know. I watched as Archimonde was defeated and then left everything behind, returning to the forests alone. There I stayed for six years, as the new tree, Teldrassil was created and grown... it is wrong and a mistake. Without the blessings of the Aspects, it is nothing but a farce, and a tainted one at that. The Archdruid is a fool. I avoid the new tree and Darnassus, the new home of my people, as much as I can. Instead, I found much interest in a new race, one that came to our world in a rather unfortunate way. Still, unlike the other peoples of the Alliance, they are old as we are, wise as we are, and quite interesting.

It was their coming that brought me out of my seclusion and allowed me to return to the world again.

I'm still not sure if I've made the right choice.

Players: Berryl, Kal'dorei Huntress

Name: Berryl Nightwood

AKA: Huntress, Scout, Sentinal

Description: Tall at six feet, five inches, very graceful and lithe like most of her people. She sports bluish skin, is very muscular, with some minor scarring on her arms, legs, and back as evidence of her life as a Sentinal. A youthful face holds the typical silver-glowing eyes of the Kal'dorei. Her blue-green hair is always kept in tidy, looping braids. Her face bears tattoo markings over her eyes styled to look like long claw marks.

Skills: An accomplished soldier in her own right, she has learned how to use the bow and crossbow very well. In addition, she is very in tune with the natural world, enabling her to tame various animal companions, including a boar (Citrine) and a spider (Obsidian). She is silent, can stalk prey for hours without tiring, and knows how to lay traps and track various creatures and people. Berryl knows basic animal anatomy and is more than capable of catching and skinning various beasts for food, leather and hides. More recently, she has found an interest in the intricate workings of machinery and has learned the basics of engineering and the use of guns and explosives. Though very destructive and against the natural flow, she is a soldier at heart, and the weapons are more effective on the new battlefields of the world.

Basic Background: Berryl is a bit over 400 years old and more or less alone in the world aside from her animal companions. Her mother, a priestess, died over a century ago, and she chose to leave the Sentinals for reasons known only to herself. She has never known her father, a Druid of the Talon, and assumes he now sleeps in the Emerald Dream or wanders the world, unknown. She doesn't know his name, nor does she care to find him.

Her love of nature is only matched by her love of battle and the fierce determination she has to protect Kalimdor and the world beyond. Because of this, she's usually found in one battle or another, a sort of mercenary scout, working with the Grand Alliance to fight back against the Horde.