Age: (Apparantly not much is known about Ethereal lifespans, so just assume Hallas is in early adulthood; roughly equivalent to late twenties or so in human age.)
Class: Nether-Stalker (Rogue); became a more of a hybrid rogue/paladin due to events that transpired during the Barrens War.
History: Born on K'aresh, evacuated with other Ethereals when the void lord Dimensius conquered. Joined the Consortium at an early age. Now works as a high-class mercenary; bringing whatever is required to the highest bidder, be it weaponry, magical artifacts, or a blade at another's throat.
Using a personal fortune amassed from previous dealings with the Consortium and jobs as a mercenary, the Lightstalker founded the Mercanaerium, one of only a few rival organisations to the Consortium. What it lacks in size and experience, the Mercanaerium benefits
Once an influential member of the Consortium, a risky business venture smuggling the remnants of Kael'thalas's operation in Netherstorm cost Hallas the trust of his fellow Etherals; and more importantly, his business partners. From early employ in the Consortium Hallas had shown a strong ability to do everything the Consortium wanted in a perfect member. Connections to the highest of places, the skills to single-handedly fin the most elusive of items; and the brutal business sense to know which sales to make and which partnerships to terminate. It seemed nothing was outside the Consortiums most trusted baron's grasp. Magical artifacts from long dead civilizations found their way to the highest bidder. Weaponry and machines of war were delivered to the armies of the rich. Even slaves, not usually dealt with by the Consortium changed hands under the then-Nexus-Stalker's watchful eye. However, being at the top for so long only gave him further to fall. Driven by greed, the Nexus-Stalker began the reclamation and sale of the remnants of Kael'thalas's Netherstorm regime for his own personal ends. Exposed by the very ethereals whose names he had put on the map (the map of those in need of illicit goods, at any rate), Hallas was cast from the Consortium and his empire dismantled. Fearing further retaliation, he fled through the Dark Portal to Azeroth. Now, the skills he learned smuggling and fighting his way to the top of the Consortium foodchain are sold to the highest bidder. A knife in the back or a package delivered; no job is too small or too big, too risky or too tame. Despite the prowess he displays working solo, all is done with a single aim in mind; to either regain his rightful place in the Consortium, or to become their worst nightmare; a business rival on a scale much larger than his solo dealings.
After countless run-ins with Consortium personnel on jobs, it became clear to Hallas that his previous position was lost to him forever; he would not be welcome back barring a miracle. Pooling the resources gained from his affairs, Hallas began the formation of the Mercanaerium; his answer to what the Consortium had become, with the aim in mind of being everything the Consortium was, but one step ahead of the game.
During the final hours of the Barrens War, Hallas was struck by a pure embodiment of the Light; however, rather than causing him harm his body became a conduit for the light to speak. After the light had finished with his body, he found he could bend it to his will; not to the extent of a trained Paladin, but enough to be useful; and enough to spread rumours of the only Ethereal to command the light, the Ethereal who was touched by it's very embodiment during that great battle. He dubbed himself the Lightstalker. Many expect such an Ethereal to be pious and noble, like the Priests and Paladins that share the lights gift. They are wrong.
Last edited by thd0710; 2011-07-27 at 07:11 PM.
Reason: Mostly rewritten.
Personality: Bright and cheery when not succumbing to her 'affliction'. (See below) Always one to see the lighter side in a dire situation. Irritatingly optimistic.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes: Fire, hats, engineering and alchemy that has nothing to do with saronite.
Dislikes: Being surrounded by people that aren't happy, goblin engineering and anything to do with saronite.
History: With a burning (Literally) passion for magic since an early age, Milly excelled beyond what her tutors had predicted in the arts of arcane and fire; although she never could quite grasp frost magic. She left her gnomish tutors in her early twenties, and immediately joined the alliance war effort in Outland, where she discovered an affinity for alchemy. Often, she would spend hours perfecting her latest concoction. When the call to war in the frigid north arose, Milly caught the first alliance ship out as their serving Apprentice Sub-Chief Alchemist. However, long before it arose that Saronite was the Black blood of Yogg-saron, Milly considered herself somewhat of a pioneer in it's alchemical use. Melting it down to a liquid form and bonding it with motes of Life she'd gathered from the broken world of Draenor, it seemed to the young gnome that it would be a potent mixture indeed.
How correct she was.
The resulting mixture was a conduit for the whispers of Yogg-saron, the life-energies within it animating its viscous body. In the middle of the stormy Borean night, the mixture slithered onto Milly's sleeping body, absorbing into her skin. She awoke a vastly different person. The arcane powers she'd commanded in life where gone. Her body was pale and thin, her stare lifeless, her compassion, gone. For days she toiled in her lab, trying every compound she could to free her from this undeathly state. Eventually, she found what she was looking for. Her answer lay back on Draenor; the crushed flower of the Dreaming Glory plant, when close to her would alleviate her state of undeath. Filling an amulet with it, Milly now walks the world in search of a permanent cure for her affliction. However, after losing her amulet during an attack on the Titan Fortress of Ulduar, the group of adventurers travelling with Milly found that, without the Dreaming Glory next to her body, she was no longer herself. The deathlike appearance remained; only now it brought with it necromantic magic, an all-consuming hate for the living and no recollection of the Milly she was before. They quickly put the amulet back on her, but told her nothing. To this day she still does not know the true extent of her affliction.