Bio - Instructor Arkaah, the Ascended.

[Elyaan]

Name: Arkaah.

Race: Krokul/Broken (Draenei).

Class: Ascendant (Shaman/Warrior/Mage).

Age: Roughly 26000 years old. Born prior to the fall of Argus.

Birthplace: Argus.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

Affiliation: Draenei, Broken (Formerly), Twilight's Hammer Cult (Currently).

Relatives: Parents - Ervann and Aleena (Both deceased), Siblings - Javaan (Brother - Deceased).

Strengths: Before her ascendancy, she was a skilled practicioner of the shamanistic arts, and although she does still have these strengths, her flame based abilities are superior. Her melee skills are also not to be trifled with, as she is masterful with her sole glaive.

Weaknesses: Although she has a decent degree of mastery over it, she loathes water due to her being empowered with the strength of flame. Her past and memories torment her, and if the topic were to arise, she tends to become solitary and reckless. She would also become rather violent and reckless in the case of a person mocking her physical image, since vanity is also another of her weaknesses.

Current Location: Unknown.

Appearance:
Pre Ascension - http://i.imgur.com/ja7lr.jpg
Post Ascension - http://i.imgur.com/L6l6b.jpg

Personality: Cruel and hateful. Will not show mercy to anyone that she encounters, unless they heed the call and submit to the Twilight's Hammer. She has become heartless, due to events that have shaped her life. She can show affection, but for only those that join and follow her cause. If you are unfortunate to cross her path, as also due to being headstrong, she rarely shows restraint. Remarkably so, she is quite vain, even after she had become an ascendant. She prizes her appearance over all else.

Biography:

Prologue - Visions.

A darkened haze drifted over the sacred city of Mac’aree. The once gleaming crystals that were visible in the night were now dimmed, no longer shimmering in their usual amber sheen, but now had adopted a scarlet, bloody shade. Dark figures scurried through the streets following nightfall, seemingly hallucinations to those that saw them from the corners of their opalescent eyes. The serenity that weaved itself into their civilisation, that took millennia to achieve, had shattered in mere days.

In the dead of night, screeching cries permeated the thin air. Individuals, that strode the pristine streets the day before, were never witnessed the day after. Malformed creatures, of nightmare, visited and left, with their darkened presence felt by those situated in their close environment. People became secretive. People became mysterious. These people were not the same.

The erratic behaviour seemed to grow, following the day that the dark being had arrived upon their world. Nothing remained the same in the aftermath of that fateful day. Nothing left was reminiscent of the time before. The inhabitants changed. The Eredar had become mirages of their former selves. They had become Man’ari.

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The lone child that watched out of her window gazed upon their evolving world. She saw these truths, yet they had not occurred yet. When they would occur though, she was not sure about. However, tomorrow was the day that they had been informed about. The longest day of the year. They had to be at the highest mountain on the outskirts of their capital. It was the way to escape. This was told to them by Velen, a high ranking individual upon their world. He had foreseen a vision, something that was both distressing, and disgusting.

Her mother called to her, and she abided without rebellion. Her glowing eyes smiled back at her parent, as she approached her bed for the days rest. Fantastical images drifted upon her mind, that vanquished those nightmares seen before. Peace was to be felt at this dark time. Tomorrow was to be a new beginning.

One - Shattered Thoughts.

"I cannot remember a lot. All I see... are fragments of my memories...".

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"They came in hordes. We did not know what had provoked this hatred. They killed every last one. If you were a man, a woman, or a child, it did not matter. They came like hounds to a wounded deer. The orcs snuffed the life out of everything, before looting a pillaging our most sacred areas. They destroyed everything that we cared for, everything that we loved. They spat on us, our traditions, our memories, our lives.".

A darkened mist descended over the temple of Karabor. The valiant defenders of this temple stood proudly against the oncoming onslaught. Yet, this was no ordinary mist that it had seemed to be. It was far more fateful. It severed the connection to the Light. Screams and cries ensued, as the defensive walls crumbled. They were butched in their confused state. Those that were lucky enough to escape fled. Fled in fear and disarray.

"I was lucky, or so I thought. I ingested the mist, and it malformed me and my brethren. It was very slight, but the reason why I wear this plate around my face. I wept as I slowly degenerated. The horns upon my head slowly contorted, curving inwards, yet I endured the pain. My eyes seemed hollow, distant. The tips of my horns, my tail, and around my eyes, turned dark and death like. I was not the same as I used to be. Why did we face such punishment? What had we done?".

The swamps of Zangarmarsh proved a temporary haven. The wildlife was hostile, but the weaponry that they still had was suitable to ward them off. Makeshift camps had been created, yet they had to remain moving. The orcish horde watched every corner of their world, hoping to slay any that remained alive. Arkaah wandered not alone, but with a younger sibling of hers. They remained together, but he did not understand what was transpiring with his older sister. She became solitary at times, spending lengths of time alone, staring into emptiness, or at something which was not there. Shelter was found under the natural constructs that inhabited the swamps, but the floor upon which they rested on was the ground itself. Food was scarce, yet they knew of what mushrooms were edible, and the local sporebats provided just enough nourishment. Days, or even months passed, yet they remained together. Until a grim day.

"I was foraging for mere minutes, but when I returned, he was gone. My heart lurched, and I felt as if I couldn't breathe. I kept myself together for his sake, yet now he had gone missing. Footprints covered the softened ground. They were not of the typical draenei hooves, but were of metal: orcish metal. I wept that night, as I tried to search for him. I couldn't find him. Javaan was gone, and with him, so did my hope in a possible future.".

Two - Fragments of My Mind.

"My mind remains broken. Is this why they call us by this term?".

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Arkaah stood there, facing the other broken. She stood proudly, against the former vindicator. His claims would apparently save them, make them accepted, yet she did not believe his falsified tales. "You think that they shall accept us for what we have become, Nobundo? They look down on us! They ridicule us! Velen is but one, yet we are still treated as these hermits. They treat us as scum. We are the Krokul!". Her words were meaningless to those that she preached to. The others were going to his side. They sought acceptance. Even the mighty Akama was waning. Rain fell heavily from the weeping skies above them, as the other malformed draenei left her side.

"They travelled to Telredor following this. I returned to my tent. I was alone, and they would not see. Yet, this loneliness would cease eventually. The whispers came initially from the wind, and from the other things surrounding me. They called to me. They befriended me. They made me feel safe, and I communicated back to them with common speech. Nobundo had stated about these elements, but I never believed, until I was alone. Patience, they said, and I listened.".

Yet again, the sky rained forth, feeding the swamps of Zangarmarsh. Arkaah sat there, alone, upon the marshland floor. Strangely though, none of the rain touched her on her flesh. It merely ran of her armor and skin, like a stream. Her eyelids were closed, her consciousness drifting off into unknown thoughts. Removing her hands from her lap, she placed her bare flesh upon the saturated floor. She felt the earth weep, shudder, and cry. The torment that this planet had faced was unbareable, and this only fueled her harsh and cold emotions. The day that the dark portal opened, she felt sorrow. Where this came from, she could not source, remember, or know. It was as if something had died within her. Now she felt these emotions in the earth beneath her. It wept.

"I left the marsh that day. Travelling was not easy, comfortable, or safe. The orcs still watched over this world, even though there was not as many clans left. I traversed through the swamp, hiding from the cruel wilderness. This world was dangerous, yet I endured the pain that I continued to feel. I crossed through into the region known as the Hellfire Peninsula, avoiding any contact with any living creatures. Yet, the torment of the earth was most hurtful here. The source of this planet's corruption still lingered.".

Three - Shards of My Memory.

"It felt so distant... it still feels distant. I have a plague upon my memories.".

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"The sky here was not like that on Draenor. It was pristine, unspoilt, and utter perfection. The elements here were also in relative happiness, and lived in relative harmony. Yet, I felt like a disease. I was scarred, as I ran my hands over my disfigured features. Although, this time, I was wearing a mask of sorts. The metal felt cool to the touch, and stood as a testament to remind me of what hid beneath it. I had also traded my previously tattered draenic robes, for something less grimful. Blood still marked areas upon it, surely from the slain individual that previously wore them. I arose from the barren floor, and stared around to my surroundings. The Legion remained, as I gazed upon the portal that led me to this world.".

The quick patter of feet could be heard in the distance, as a lone individual slipped from one shadow to the other. She seemed lost. She tread lightly, as if the earth beneath her was helping her upon her venture. Her pace increased, as did her swiftness. A mere blur was all that was visible following this, as she became transparent. She was gone, and gone with the wind that carried her. The elements flowed within her, and strode with her.

"I do not recall how I became part of this cult. They called themselves the Twilight's Hammer. Surely, orcish in birth, but following their laws, rules and ideals no longer. They began revealing themselves from the shadowed regions of Azeroth, worshipping their twisted gods. An ogre-mage, the first of them, led this cult of fanatics. His name was Cho'gall. Him and his followers sought to annihilate Azeroth, so that his masters could conquer the valiant and heroic races that called this world their home. I had joined them, and now I too marched amongst them.".

Alone. She sat there alone, upon the slated floor. Her meditation was cut short, as she gathered a handful of ash, and then released it, as the flakes dissolved into the caressing wind. The heat of this place did not hinder her concentration, for it was barely felt. Her eyes opened, as she gazed to the roof of this marvellous cavern. The volcano surrounding her remained dormant for now, yet the sweltering heat of Blackrock was still strong. Beneath the column atop which she sat, she could sense all that transpired. The occurences within Shadowforge City, and deeper within the Molten Core. It was to awaken... soon.

Four - Reforging Consciousness.

"The fog subsides. The cracks are mending. My mind... is clear.".

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"He comes, servitors of the old ones! Our master shall reforge this descecrated world, into a vision of perfection! The world shall teeter upon the brink of salvation, as we enter a new age of chaos and destruction! Bring forth the sacrifice for our ancient masters!". The legions cheered as Arkaah stood upon an altar at its head. Stepping off with feline grace, she stood at its side. Bound and gagged, a squiriming individual was placed upon the altar before her. She gazed down at the beaten body, still alive but hurt, as her eyes met the individual. A sense of familiarity was seen within the eyes of the male draenei, yet Arkaah ignored it. Retrieving a dagger that was previously bound at her waist, she laid it upon the side of the cold slab. Untying the linen scrap from the prisoner's mouth, she clasped her hand around the handle of the knife. Raising both of her arms into the air with the dagger in hand, the individual upon the altar merely gazed in horror, as it was brought down to meet his chest. Words that resembled her name escaped the sacrifice's lips as he took his final breath, yet it was drowned out by cheers from the crowd.

"The Aspect of Death emerged upon Azeroth that day. Chaos rained down from the skies, as those that previously discarded our beliefs came and knelt before us, seeking forgiveness. They were not denied. The Twilight's Hammer marched forth on many fronts. We burned forests, we destroyed homes, we slayed all those that stood within our path of conquest. None were to be denied our forgiveness, for showing weakness and mercy. I myself assisted with the charge upon the tree of the Night Elves: Nordrassil. We were not to be denied such power, but alas we were, so an alternative path was found. Nordrassil was to burn.".

The heat of Sulfuron Keep washed through the lower reaches of Mount Hyjal. Within the keep itself stood Arkaah, amongst some of her most trusted followers. "Firelord, grant me strength!", she screamed, as three bound elementals were siphoned into herself. Their flame overtook her, infusing her with renewed ambition, and hatred. Her flesh rapidly darkened, as cracks formed across her skin's surface. From within them, glowed molted flame. As the bound elementals' elementium carapaces fell upon the wrought floor, she knelt. Her most trusted allies approached Arkaah now, bearing armor that was to be forged upon her. Screams of delight echoed around the halls of the keep, as her old armor was removed, and the new metal infused itself upon her charred flesh. A cover was also placed upon her, created from the scales of fallen twilight dragonkin, so strong that it was fireproof. Standing tall once more, Arkaah retrieved a glaive protruding from the floor behind her. Invigorated by her new body, she roared as she bathed in her newfound power.

"I continued the Twilight's Hammer assault upon Hyjal with renewed vigor and strength. Unfortunately, the guardians of that bastard tree had succeeded. We were ultimately pushed back. Although wounded, we were not defeated. Sulfuron Keep still stand today, as does a powerful presence within the Darkwhisper Gorge. I now travel to other fronts, where we seek to stage our assault. We shall not fall so easily.".

It was done. Arkaah had ascended.