[Bio] Myrodrin Dawnwhisper

[Myrodrin]

((Ok, this is my first ever bio attempt, so feel free to toss out as much constructive criticism as needed. I've been writing this for about 6 hours now, and I'm exhausted, so I'm sure some things might not be clear/presented in the best way. Be gentle!!! ))


Name: Myrodrin Dawnwhisper

Age: 187

Race: Sin’Dorei

Gender: Male

Class: Death Knight

Languages: Myrodrin primarily speaks Thalassian, though his dealings with the Horde have required him to pick up Orcish. He managed to learn some Common during his stint as a Scourge Death Knight.

Personality: He holds an extreme pride in the Sin’dorei race, almost to the point of nationalistic arrogance. With the induction of the Blood Elves into the Horde, he has tried to look past this pride, realizing his people need the Horde, and must learn to live amongst them. Myrodrin is quick-tempered and puts little thought into his actions. He lets his fury gain the best of him and will thrust himself into combat without any regard to his self-being or those fighting alongside him.

Likes/Dislikes: Even with his extreme sense of nationalism, Myrodrin is very fond of the Horde. Though primal in nature, the Horde is strong, and unafraid to demonstrate that fact. With their aid, he feels the Sin’Dorei can only benefit. Even so, he is hesitant of the Forsaken. He deems them as monsters and is disgusted by the destruction they cause. Due to the elven prejudice of the Amani, he is also cautious of the Darkspear, but he is willing to work with them when needed.
He is very fond of weapons, particularly axes and one-handed swords. He keeps a collection of those that he has found throughout his various campaigns, trophies if you will. Just as well, he prefers armed combat compared to spell casting. To him, bringing his blades upon an enemy is a far greater pleasure than throwing a few spells around.

Appearance: In life, his skin had a slight red pigmentation (mild fel-taint), with pitch black hair. When struck with the curse of un-death, his skin and hair both became a sickly pale white. His face is gaunt and sharp, and normally seen carrying a frown. Myrodrin prefers to keep a well groomed goatee and holds his hair in a topknot.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Myrodrin is power hungry, and will do anything to make himself stronger than his enemies. Before his death, he absorbed massive amounts of fel energy, believing it would make him unstoppable on the battlefield. He is proficient in melee combat, leaving little but gore behind when an enemy has made the mistake of crossing him. His bloodlust is also one of his greatest weaknesses. When surrendering himself to his fury, he forgoes any strategy or though, sometimes placing himself and his allies into danger. His prowess as a warrior has also caused him to develop quite an ego, again creating a sense of complacency as he feels nothing could possibly best him.

History:
Myrodrin Dawnwhisper was born to Alan’ar and Thalania Dawnwhisper, two Farstriders residing in the settlement of Tranquillien. Growing up, he loved to hear his parents speak of the magnificent battles they fought with the Amani Trolls, and would sit for hours listening. These would inspire him from a young age to work towards becoming a warrior, maybe even a Farstrider. Enthralled from their stories, he would often try to follow his parents during their skirmishes, wanting to witness every moment for himself. After several attempts trying to follow his parents, his mother Thalania grew frustrated and no longer trusted Myrodrin to stay alone. She had to ask neighbors to stay and watch him to ensure he stayed safely at home. This lasted well into his adolescent years, and he grew to resent his parents for their overprotection. He wanted to be out there fighting for his people; he wanted to fight for Quel’Thalas.

When Myrodrin reached the age of 24, Alan’ar gifted him a beautifully crafted elven sword; one that he felt would suit his son well. Myrodrin was delighted at the sight of the weapon and began training immediately. He would awake at dawn, and practice well into the evening. Seeing the pride in his father’s eyes, he trained himself even harder, determined never to let him down. When not in the field, Alan’ar would join his son in training, giving him pointers where he could. Myrodrin had learned all his father had to give, yet he was unsatisfied. He felt there was plenty more information that he could learn from, and he found that in an unlikely source. While scouting the forests one day, he stumbled across a group of Amani warriors training. Their ferocity intrigued Myrodrin, and he began to carefully watch and follow them. He continued training with his parents, but when they were called away, he would sneak back out into the woods and continue watching the trolls. He felt the savagery the Amani demonstrated was far superior to that of the Quel’Dorei, and decided to incorporate this into his training. He hoped that a blend of elven and troll fighting styles would make him benefit him and make him stronger. Eventually he decided to try out his hybrid fighting style in the field, and in the dead of night, snuck away into the forest. He went to the same troll camp he had been observing and ambushed the creatures, much to their surprise. He had no strategy, opting to simply follow his instincts. He gritted his teeth, gripped his sword and began slaughtering the trolls one by one. In the aftermath, covered in blood and sweat, he simply grinned and began the walk back to Tranquillien.

Soon after, he left Tranquillien and traveled to Silvermoon hoping to train as part of the Quel’Dorei army. He had lost the ambition and patience to train as a Farstrider. He felt he that his strength was better used on the battlefield rather than going through even more training. He was accepted into the High Elven army as standard infantry, and moved into Silvermoon. He would remain stationed here until the Horde launched their attack during the Second War. Reports reached Silvermoon that a band of trolls and creatures the human had dubbed “orcs” were laying siege to the borders of Quel’Thalas. The army of Silvermoon countered the advancing Horde and fought with immense ferocity to ensure the protection of Quel’Thalas. The orcs fought with strength of which Myrodrin had never seen, and it took every ounce of his being to stand strong against them. One of the beasts nearly brought an axe down upon his head and would have succeeded had he not managed to dodge the attack. While the orc prepared for anther swing, he saw his chance and pierced its heart with his sword. His sword remained lodged in the orc’s chest, forcing him to abandon the blade and take up the axe that had nearly slain him. In honesty, that one fight had nearly exhausted him. These monsters were stronger than any threat he had ever encountered, but he had to keep going strong. He gripped the new weapon and sprang once again into the fray. By the time it was over, both sides had heavy losses, but the Quel’Dorei had held ground and pushed the Horde back. Myrodrin had not left without injury, and he now bore a large wound on his left shoulder. The priests managed to heal his shoulder, but his pride was damaged. He was exhausted, and yet he had only fought a few orcs. He had taken dozens of Amani during their attempted raids, yet these new creature had countered every one of his strikes with ease. His unit had been recalled to Silvermoon to regroup, but he decided to stay behind for the night. He wanted to recover the sword his father had gifted him, and he would search every corpse until it once again rested in his grip. Days later, he returned to Silvermoon, carrying not just his family’s sword, but the axes of the orcs he had slain. They would serve as a reminder of the most difficult battle he had ever served in, thus beginning his grim tradition of gathering weapons as war trophies.

Years had passed since the Second War plagued the lands of Quel’Thalas. Myrodrin was stationed as a military guard around Silvermoon, much to his disappointment. Not much action occurred this close to the city, maybe a criminal or a small band of Amani raiders, but nothing worth getting excited over. His family home had been destroyed when the orcs invaded, and his parents forced to relocate to Quel’Lithien Lodge. Life had been quiet, but Quel’Thalas was about to suffer through one of the worst wars to ever sweep through its lands. Massive amounts of undead, led by the human prince Athas, razed the elves’ forests, obliterated Silvermoon, and destroyed the Sunwell. Their army had been reduced to a fraction of its former glory, yet Myrodrin still fought against the invading corpses. He had been training since the second war, and attacked with increased vigor. His comrades fell one by one, until only three of his squad members stood by him. They were corned, pushed back from the main force. He lost himself in his anger, swinging the axe and sword at the undead, crushing them into oblivion. When the invasion let up, Myrodrin fell to his knees. His arms and legs ached, and blood poured out of his wounds. He had yet to discover the true horror of the attack though. He looked back to where he had left the last three of his companions, and noticed they had fallen in battle. Despite his aches, he would personally carry their bodies back to the city for an honorable burial. Closer inspection revealed a grim truth; shards of his weapons were lodged in all three of their chests. Myrodrin was at a loss for words; his own savagery had consumed him and taken the lives of three great warriors. He couldn’t let this get out. He placed their bodies under several of the undead and set fire to them before leaving, hoping to take this secret to his grave.

The wounds from the Scourge invasion still tormented his body, and with priests seemingly now separated from the light, he received little aid from healing magic. Now called Sin’dorei, Blood Elves, he along with the other survivors led morning patrols to clear out as many of the remaining undead as possible. They lingered in what had been deemed the Dead Scar, a trail of death and decay that now marked their land. Prince Kael’thas had adorned the city with green crystals that the elves now relied on for power. Myrodrin had never trained extensively in the arcane arts, but his body still craved magic energies. Just as well, his wounds from the constant raids against the undead were taking a toll on his body. At first he would only absorb a small amount of the newfound energy, but the more he took, the better he would feel. His arcane cravings had again been satiated, but something else had occurred, his injuries from the Scourge invasion were getting better. For the first time since the undead struck, he felt like a warrior again. He was strengthened and empowered by this energy, and could feel it course through his muscle. He began to siphon power from it every morning before reporting for duty, and every time he returned. He fought with renewed strength, swinging his weapons easier than before and singlehandedly taking on increasingly larger groups of undead. He began to notice side effects though, his eyes now burned an emerald color and his skin had begun turning a slightly reddish. Worse yet, he seemed to become increasingly irrational and stubborn the more he siphoned energy from the crystals. Myrodrin’s superiors and comrades also began to notice this increased sense of recklessness in him. His weapon swings had come close to harming many of his allies, and in one case took the hand of a young Farstrider that had accompanied him. He was ordered to relocate to Tranquillien, now retaken by the Blood Elves through the aid of the Forsaken. He deliberately ignored said orders and decided to travel to the city of Orgrimmar. He saw no reason to trust the Forsaken, and had heard of suspicious happenings with them. He had seen the havoc and destruction they caused, and failed to recognize, how even with their free will restored, that they had changed. He had been told that the orcs were reforming into a “new civilized” Horde, and with the Blood Elves now inducted, he decided to go there to train. The orcs he fought had impressed him greatly with their strength and weapon skills, and if the rumors were true, he would make his new home there. He would never reach his destination.

He had stopped to rest at Tranquillien for a few hours, waiting until nightfall. His father, his now only living parent, still remained at Quel’Lithien Lodge, and he wanted desperately to avoid him. He remained a High Elf, and did not trust the crystals Prince Sunstrider had sent back. He had heard of his son’s actions and dependence on the crystals and was disgusted. Myrodrin jumped on his silver Hawkstrider and headed towards the Plaguelands. Up ahead he noticed a large group of Scourge, and decided to try and sneak around. He was impulsive and hot-headed, but even he was sensible enough to know he couldn’t take on this many undead. The straps that held his supplies down to his mount had come undone, and they crashed onto the ground. The nearby undead heard the sound and charged at Myrodrin. He was knocked from the great bird, and heard the sounds of the undead feasting on it as he scrambled to grab his weapons. He crushed the first few with ease, but it wasn’t long before he was overcome. The last sight he took in before death was that of a large robed skeleton floating over to him, then the world went cold.

He awoke in a frozen land, the wind whipped his hair and snow fell around him, yet he felt nothing. The elf felt strange, empty almost, aside from a searing hate that dwell within him. He did not know where he was, but he sensed he was to travel to “Acherus.” Even though he didn’t recognize the name, he seemed to know where he was going, almost guided. He made his way to the necropolis, and once inside found an army of enormous proportions. Orcs, Blood and Night Elves, bull and wolf men, even Gnomes all composed the grand militia. Myrodrin was part of this force, he knew it. He heard voices in his head, those of the Lich King, his master. They spoke to him, informing him he would take place in grand invasion, all in the name of the Scourge and of the Lich King himself. Months later, the force had grown even larger, and the voices informed the group of death knights that their time had come. The necropolis immediately lurched forward, and a fierce battle cry erupted amongst them as they set course for the Eastern Kingdoms.

Myrodrin had slain hundreds of the Scarlet warriors before Highlord Mograine announced the march on Light’s Hope Chapel. It was here that Tirion Fordring released their minds, and freed them. The memories of the horrible crimes he committed flooded him all at once. He felt great amounts of guilt and sorrow, and vowed to undo his crimes. Once freed from Arthas’ grasp, Myrodrin finally finished his journey to Orgrimmar and requested re-admittance into the Horde. Although the Horde accepted him, it was far from a warm welcome. He could see the looks of animosity and disgust on the faces of Orgrimmar’s denizens yet all he could do was ignore them and move on. The Warsong Offensive had allowed him to board their Zeppelin to Warsong Hold, where he would take up arms against the Scourge. He spent the majority of the Northrend War fighting the plague of undead nerubians that flocked around the Horde bases in Dragonblight and the Borean Tundra. Here Myrodrin was finally able to discover his new powers. To some, to become a death knight would be seen as a curse, for Myrodrin, it was a gift. He still hated Arthas for what he had done to him (and his people during the Third War), but he couldn’t deny the benefits of his new being. He had a diminished pain complex, he never felt tired, and he was fueled solely by rage and the will to fight. This was a gift, and Myrodrin would be sure to use every piece of it to his advantage. By the time the nerubians had been contained, Fordring and his army of the Light had slain Arthas and effectively ended the reign of the Scourge. A sense of bitterness resonated through Myrodrin hearing that he was unable to slaughter the man that had damned him. It was out of his control though, and he could do little but take out his rage on the remaining Scourge in the area. He left Northrend not long after, and took up residence in Orgrimmar, hoping to finally join the Horde Military. Although impressed by Myrodrin’s skill, he was still an elf, an elf death knight of all things. He would have to buy his way into serving.He mustered up all of his gold (about 836 pieces) and handed it over to the Orc general Grak Spinefist, who finally welcomes him into service. He was deployed to Ashenvale for a while to help establish a base camp for the Warsong forces. Weeks later, great earthquakes split the world, and Myrodrin was recalled to Orgrimmar for reassignment. The great destruction had revealed two new Targets for the Horde to conquer. The new Warchief, Garrosh Hellscream, had reassigned his unit to a mysterious land that had been walled off since the Second War. He was angered that he would have to work with the forsaken, but the Warchief was not man to be disobeyed, this time, he had no choice but to comply. He followed General Spinefist to the docks, where he boarded the warship waiting to set off to conquer this land, Gilneas, in the name of the Horde.

[Khorianas]

Nice bio, and from a quick read I didn't find any mistakes considering the timeline. I honestly don't know if the Scourge returned corpses to Northrend for Death Knight resurrections, but I'll just go with that. Personally I like the warrior origin of your bloodelf. Not really much more to say other than welcome to the RP Forums.

[Venziir]

Nice bio, and from a quick read I didn't find any mistakes considering the timeline. I honestly don't know if the Scourge returned corpses to Northrend for Death Knight resurrections, but I'll just go with that. Personally I like the warrior origin of your bloodelf. Not really much more to say other than welcome to the RP Forums.

It's actually not unlikely, I mean if the Scourge commanders felt that X was impressive enough in life, surely he/she would make a fine Death Knight.

[Khorianas]

It's actually not unlikely, I mean if the Scourge commanders felt that X was impressive enough in life, surely he/she would make a fine Death Knight.

Well what they did according to the starting scenes in Archerus is gather the corpses revive them and let the strong ones fight it out. I just can't remember any occasion where they would transport the corpses across an ocean to revive them there. My objection was more towards the transportation.

[Venziir]

Well what they did according to the starting scenes in Archerus is gather the corpses revive them and let the strong ones fight it out. I just can't remember any occasion where they would transport the corpses across an ocean to revive them there. My objection was more towards the transportation.

True, there is no mention of transporting corpses that far... But *shrug* Meatwagons can carry corpses and the Scourge uses a lot of cold-based magic which could help preserve it?

[Myrodrin]

Haha, sorry, the "I'm suddenly in Northrend" scene was more or less my brick wall moment. I had no idea what to do after the death scene, so for now, treat it like a placeholder.

Khorianas,
Thanks for the feedback! I really enjoy melee characters, and wanted a blood elf that didn't hide behind magic. As for the death knights in the starting area, weren't those fallen Argent Dawn members? I thought that the initial force were fallen soldiers that the Scourge reanimated and hid away in Northrend until the attack on the Plaguelands.

I wasn't sure where to place him so that he would end up in the Acherus invasion. Would it work better for him to reanimate and chill in Naxxaramas until Acherus moved down, or reanimate and travel to Icecrown, later moving to Acherus when Arthas put the army togethor? Any other suggestions that could solve this?

[Darsithis]

I don't believe they transported bodies to Northrend. Necropolises existed all over the world for a reason, just as Acherus was where the Death Knights meant for Tirion Fordring were created.

Aside from that, excellent bio!

[Khorianas]

True, there is no mention of transporting corpses that far... But *shrug* Meatwagons can carry corpses and the Scourge uses a lot of cold-based magic which could help preserve it?

Well they had to use King Menethil's Urn to transport Kael'thuzad, since the meatwagons are only able to slow down the decay, not stop it. They use those corpses for shock troopers not their elites. And the way they transported the Lich's remains was even shorter than from Quel'thalas to Northrend. Admitedly, they wanted to resurrect Kael at full power, but then again the same goes for death knights. And as Darsithis said, they had necromancers with them most of the time as well as the necropoli, so I would assume they have no need for the transports (They only had to transport Kael'thuzad because they needed the Sunwell to ressurrect him)

Haha, sorry, the "I'm suddenly in Northrend" scene was more or less my brick wall moment. I had no idea what to do after the death scene, so for now, treat it like a placeholder.

Khorianas,
Thanks for the feedback! I really enjoy melee characters, and wanted a blood elf that didn't hide behind magic. As for the death knights in the starting area, weren't those fallen Argent Dawn members? I thought that the initial force were fallen soldiers that the Scourge reanimated and hid away in Northrend until the attack on the Plaguelands.

I wasn't sure where to place him so that he would end up in the Acherus invasion. Would it work better for him to reanimate and chill in Naxxaramas until Acherus moved down, or reanimate and travel to Icecrown, later moving to Acherus when Arthas put the army togethor? Any other suggestions that could solve this?

Well the suddenly somewhere else sentiment isn't that wrong, since, you know he was dead
I think it would be completely feasible for him to stay in the eastern Kingdoms with the scourge troops. Kael'thuzad and Naxxramas were still here clashing with the forsaken anyways. I tend to go away a bit from the starting Zone, because while it is really well made, it still is bound to game mechanics quite heavily. Like the fact that all races are there etc,... If you want to go with just staying in Naxxramas/EK that's okay. You can also be called back to icecrown, you are a soldier of the scourge in the end. Just do what you like but maybe give a reason or hint why he traveled to northrend if you want to. Support Arthas' campaign in Northrend? You can pretty much do what you like.