(bio) Lethavien Brightmantle

[trulte]

Name: Lethavien Brightmantle
Race: Human
Age: 18 ((This is his age after the second war, just before Strom leaves the old Grand Alliance))
Gender: Male
Class: Mage/recruit warrior ((this will probably change as the bio story continues))
Hair: Long dark yellow
Eyes: Blue
Facial: He does not have much facial hair yet.
Skin: Pale, but not extreme
Alignment: The Alliance for the most
Personality: He does not work very well under stress, does not always follow orders from a higher ranking officer. Would never raise a hand against any people who are considered alliance members or their allies. Does usually learn new things fast, tends to stay in the background and let other take command if it is nothing personal. Does not like being the center of attention.
Likes/dislikes: Hates traitors and orcs with passion. Dislike marshals and undeads, but if the situation is dire he can lay aside his grudges against the dead and his mistrust for high commanding officers. His idol have always been Khadgar, the apprentice of Magus Medivh and one of the Sons of Lothar. Like magic in general, but he also finds it time consuming and at times boring. Loves his family and village in Arathi. Would want to deserve the things he is given and not just have it because of his status or what his relatives have done, even though he is just from a normal farmer family. Also he have come to enjoy the little things in the world of Azeroth.

Bio: Lethavien Brightmantle was born on a rainy day in a small farming village near the eastern mountains of Arathi Highlands. Here the blond haired boy was raised, not knowing of his unusual "Gift". The little village was a sad look, with poor constructed houses and wood that seemed to have been rotting for ages. Still Lethavien and his slim friend from the Ferrow family did not suffer.

The years passed and Lethavien grew, and his so called "Gift" started to show itself more and more, until one day a visitor from the Kirin Tor felt the magic aura around the boy. The mage quickly asked the parents if their son would not come to Dalaran with him, so that his special blessing could be improved. Lethaviens father thought long and hard on this and since the boy were only twelve he said no to the mage, who stood shocked by the father's answer. Not sure why the father turned him down the mage continued to ask the man why he would not let his son embrace his destiny. But the father did not let this man have his young boy be turned into a weak book worm.

While the mage continued his wandering, he gave the parents a strict warning that if the powers of the boy should get out of hand one day. They would not like to be near him. Lethaviens father ignored the rambling wizard and waved him goodbye, still though Lethavien had heard most of the conversations between the wizard and his parents and the boy was curious about this magical capital called Dalaran.

Five years later as the second great war raged down in the southern part of the Eastern Kingdoms Lethavien left a note on his bed, telling his parents that he had gone to the mystical magic city of Dalaran. The young farmer's father which were coughing badly fell down on his knees as he read it, he would not want his boy to become some obscured madman. But it was to late, Lethavien had gone and he knew these hills better than anyone else in the village. The father sobbed for himself, while his wife and two younger boys entered the room not sure why he was sitting there crying for himself.

Months flew by and no sign of the quick young smiling little boy. The reports of the orcs defeat had reached nearly all the outer villages of the Seven great human kingdoms and celebration went on and on. Still small groups of orc raiders could appear, destroying everything they sat their eyes on, but they were rare. Lethaviens father coughed heavily as he grew paler in his bed, he could barley lift his hands now in his condition.
His wife was out trying to do as much as she could do, to ensure that the animals at least did not starve to death and that the corn fields would not just be in vain for the most part.

A few more coughing sounds could be heard inside the house, before a familiar voice was heard in the distance. The mother dropped her bucket of water in surprise so it fell on the ground spilling out all the water. She first stood in shock before she ran over to the cloaked person which now were just outside the farm house. As the woman squeezed the cloaked man, the father had managed to get out of bed and now stood in the doorway. A half smile formed across the cloaked man's mouth as he took of his hood so his light yellowish hair fell over his face. The sick old man nearly fell backwards, but managed to stand upright holding onto the door frame. He could not believe that his son had returned.

But the reunion was short lived, as soon the Stromgarde recruiter entered the town. While the farmers argued with the soldiers they knew they could not change anything and short afterwards nearly all of the young boys of the village were walking over too the training camp, a few miles from the town.

As the first training day started a unexpected guest entered the camp. A marshal sent by king Thoras himself to inspect the training camp and to see if the captain could spare some troops for his own personal quest. The captain agreed to lend some troops for the marshals mission, but he had to wait for tomorrow as he would need to see into who he could send.

The dark night passed and the marshal had found out that he would spare the captain for sending in his trained soldiers, and rather let him send a few recruits. The captain tried to talk the marshal out of it, but he would not change his mind. Lethavien and his friend along with the rest of the one day old recruits was lined up quickly. The marshal spent a good amount of time picking out his lucky ten, but still he found them all weak looking and pitiful. After looking over them a couple of times he started to feel a strange presence, a magical presence. The marshal pushed himself through the ranks and over to the source, which was the blond haired farmer. The marshal grinned, this would be a perfect choice.

((just so you don't NEED to read the story, still its long xD ))


((Some of this may change))


Bio long story ((not done))
http://www.mmo-champion.com/threads/...tle-for-Arathi

((So new bio and i hope this is acceptable))