Please respect other members. Please do not post links or information about hacking/warez/cheats.
Read the rules of these forums as we rarely warn before banning. Lost or need RSS check the forum map.
As a first RP I'l be setting this in the world of warcraft. However the world is somewhat more open, and maps are towns are larger than the fairly small ones in game.
Firstly, there are no "quests" persay. That is not to say that you character can not have a background or items from a quest, however write it in as actual events rather than a questlog.
Secondly, there are no alignments or specific types of character. Characters may therefor act in accordance with their own interests or those of others. You character could perhaps start off as a friendly, protective Paladin, but could fall and become an evil and vindictive murderer.
Thirdly, characters have more freedom than ingame. They are not restricted by class and type, rather their class is a general recognised standard but abilties or even their class can change during the course of the RP or in your background. For example your character may originally have been drafted as a Warrior in Stormwind, only later to find himself more interested in the magical arts. He'd still have some of the old skills he learnt as a warrior, but would now concentrate more on magic.
Fourthly, although the option to play some of the non-player races is open, bear in mind a number of things. If your a creature which is largely seen to be hostile, you can NOT ENTER TOWNS. Guards would attack you on sight, people too. Although adventurers may befriend you if you seem benevolent, the option to enter a civilised area would be closed to you. I suggest simply picking one of the main races for ease of use, unless you are a particularly good writer. Similarly overpowered or "God" characters are strictly off limits. All characters will be of average ability and strength, perhaps excelling at a certain thing. Like in real life, its rare to impossible to find someone thats good at everything.
Fithly to keep good writing standards, and for ease of reading what events are occuring, always post three or more paragraphs every time. If a post is pure conversation it is difficult to know exactly what is transpiring, what your character thinks, whats going on around them, how others appear to your character and so on and so forth. Without details, without adding personal touches to everything you see, smell, hear, touch and taste its difficult to build up a picture of where you are and whats going on. Three paragraphs minimum.
Lastly you are welcome to join this RP at anytime during the course of it. As Your Average Wow Player (YAWP for short) suggested in the other thread I'l put up a "story so far" thread, should the RP require one. I do already have directions and plans for the story in question and I'l put these up as required so that any player knows where the direction is going and can move along accordingly.
Now, on to the setting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Duskwood. Once a lush and vast forrest, stretching mile upon mile, is now a corrupt and dark land of shadows. Creatures lurk in darkned places and the once thriving homesteads, farms and small towns have become residence to creatures far worse than nightmare.
In its depths, far from the Darkned Bank, is the town of Darkshire. Once thriving, this towns outskirts have now been abandoned, leaving derelict homes in which unatural noises have been heard. The town guards ceaselessly patrol both day and night, despite the little difference in light. It is a dark place where the races fight a desperate battle to keep their homes in this sickened wood.
Of the several taverns that once survived in Darkshire, only a few remain. One such alehouse, frequented with off duty guards hoping to drink themselves into forgetfulness, is the Twisted Nag. Renaimed by the proprietor on the death of the last owner, it is now run by a haggard and dark Gnome. Though seldom known for their lucidity at the best of times, Dirald the Gnome has a reputation for a much darker personality that usually fits his kind. Never the less the tavern is a popular gathering place, its rooms kept safe from harm by wards placed by Dirald himself.
In its busy drinking space, chairs and tables are haphazardly thrown around a dark wooden room, though not spacious it still comfortably houses a score of patrons, its solitary waitress threading her way with difficulty from table to table. All kinds of patrons wonder through, traders, travelers, soldiers and those seeking to make a fortune in the twisted ruins of Duskwood.
On one such table sits a Night Elf. He casually avoids the glances and greetings of the other patrons, sitting himself close to the windows to the corner of the room. In his hands sits a small obsidian ball which he casually rolls from hand to hand and on the table in front lies a plate of food, hardly touched. The odd growl from beneath the table signifies the Worg which lies at its masters feet.
Occasionally the Elf glances towards the door, his eyes expectant. Hes expecting company of all sorts, from paladins to thieves, though mainly the latter in a place such as this. If his suspicions are correct, the next endevor could be lucritive, but more than that answers to questions the Elf has longed to find lie just out of reach...
From here throw in a character sheet. Once people are happy with their characters we can begin the Roleplay
Description: This dwarf is an average hand-span for the people of his homeland but still "short" to most adult humans, and to all races of elves. What he lacks in height, he makes up in width. From shoulder to shoulder this dwarf is two-thirds wide as he is tall.
His beard is not worn brushed, split or woven into multiple braids as most dwarves. His is instead woven into a single dark brown braid running down the center of his chest. It stands out in stark contrast to the deep grey robes he wears. His eyes are the mahogany color of wettened flint, and peer out from beneath two bushy brows. His head is clean shaven and marked with a tattoo on the back like you would expect to see on a forest troll. It's in the shape of a celtic cross, and ink faded green-grey over time. His face is hard and chisled, his mouth void of the age lines of laughter and easy times that most carry. The left side of his face is marked with a jagged and puffy looking scar from the end of his eyebrow to right below his cheekbone.
His supple brown leather boots show periodically from beneath his robes as he strides foward, arms swinging deliberately in a slow arc. From those burly arms sprout calloused, hard working hands, adorned with scars from many brawls and battles. From a simple leather belt dangles a set of large black iron prayer beads fixed at the end with the same cross as his markings display, and a few small pouches which hold all he'll ever need to carry, for he is guided by dark faith and the sound of jingling coins.
Equipment: No "legendary" or "epic" items of note. Simply spell reagents, a few gold coins, his iron prayer beads which double as "knuckles" when needed, exceptionally thick, grey canvas robes, and a good pair of oiled leather boots.
Backstory: If it's alright with you I'd like to feel this one out as we go forth. More than likely there will be a betrayal-type history with the Dark Iron Dwarves and the dark side of faith, and a look into religious "Prophet" becoming "Profit". I'd like to do a bit of research in the Lore before I write in a random history - nothing character altering mind you.
Name: (Okey il steal my old) Tallian Swift Race: Human Age: 30 Class: Wizard: Wizards are very different from the common or ordinary mage, rare in numbers as only a few is born with the wizard mark, yes mark, wizards are born with a flame mark in their hands and as I said only a few is and has been born with those marks the past 10ī000 years.
As magic users they are powerfull, they wield common magics bit in addition they have a unique spell repetoar which only wizards can learn and use.
But of course there is a hatch, Wizards as they are few in numbers and can only learn from other wizards have a hard time as students, finding and convince another wizard to train you is both hard and time consuming...
Description: Hesīs tall, blue eyed, with a small purple spot on his left eye iris, black hair that streches down to his shoulders, he owns a body in good shape thanks to alot of traveling, mostly on foot.
He is a handsome looking man in all, not stunningly beautiful but far from ugly.(okey another steal but hey does it really matter?)
As most wizards Tallian is a loner, he tend to to avoid large cities or towns.
And from that we can guess that he is a quiet man, calm and do not anger quickly.
In general people are afraid of wizards as they are different.. they are mystics, tending to their own and do not meddle with what other people would thing is proper so they are not the most welcome guest in towns or villages but then the wizards themselves dont think of this as a problem as they usually want to be by themselves..
Equipment: Tallian owns a simple black robe with with a simple black hood and cape, as a matter of fact all of tallians clothes are black. he wield a wooden staff whitch has a birdlike figue on top. He also has a couple of knifes hidden in his robe(hes quite a good knifethrower)
He has some pouches on his black belt and a brown backpack, in which he has some books and food
Backstory: Tallian, born with the flame marks of a wizard never had a good or joyfull childhood, the other villagers and even his parents were afraid of him, the word spread of course and 2 years later an old man came to the village.
His name was Alric and he to had the flame marks, Tallian was shortly after taken away from the village by this Alric.
Years came and went and Tallian grew older, he studied under Alric and thought of him as his father, at the age of 19 Alric told Tallian everything about what had happened, Tallian of course at first did not belive the old man but slowly the truth became perfectly clear, he stayed with Alric as he never wanted to see his parents again, those who gave him away as he would have been some kind of trading item, he never blamed Alric as the old man only wanted to help Tallian.
He stayed with his mentor to the day he died, Tallian was now 25, his childish thoughts about his mother and father had since long faded away and now he wanted to meet them, maybe they would accept him now.
But Alric died whitout Tallian asking where he could find his family so a jouerny began, Tallian traveled far and wide in his search for his family, sometimes he stumbled over other wizards and could advance in his trait.
And now 30 years old Tallian are still looking....
Of course I'l be adding our good old friend Feanaro:
Name : Feanaro
Age : 568
Race and class : Night-Elf, Hunter
Appearence : Having a slight build and shorter than most of his kin, Feanaro never the less radiates confidence and strength in his Gait. Young by most elvish standards and even by some Dwarfs, Feanaro has a youthful appearance that belies his abilities. His face is thin, with deep purple eyes and his hair, the deep green of forest shadows, is usually swept back in a braid or headband.
Loyalty : Though once as deeeply distrustful of the other races as many of his kin, on the destruction of the world tree and death of his family Feanaro cast aside most of his prejudices.
Humbled by his new found mortality and deeply wounded by the loss of his house and kin, Feanaro usually avoids most sentient company equally and holds no ill will to any but the undead and demonic forces.
Equipment : On leaving his House in Darnassus, Feanaro left behind all belongings and possesions, taking with him meer momentos of home.
His garb was crafted by his own hand and reflects the life of the traveler he now leads. Boots made from the skin of a basilisk and laced with swamp vine cover his legs almost to the knee while leather pants, dyed as deep a green as his hair, cover the rest.
A leather chestpiece crafted from the hide of a Darkfang Lurker is worked with intricate patterns made with bark from various Darnassus trees and covers a soft vest. A cloak crafted from Shadowmaw Panther hide drapes his shoulders, keeping off the worst of the winter rains.
Special posessions :
Shadowmaw Panther Cloak : Crafted from the hide of Feanaro's first pet, Swift, Feanaro keeps the cloak to remind him of his bond to Swift and his friends brave death.
Already dark and embued with the panthers stealthy abilities, the cloak helps hide Feanaro further in the shadows adding to his already formidable shadowblending skills. Other than this it simply acts to keep off the rain and remind Feanaro of Swift.
Serona Family Pendant : Though taking little when the last of his family fell defending the world tree, Feanaro could not part with this last momento of his old life. The pendant is forged from a metal not unlike silver, though enclined to shimmer in moonlight and bears the look of a tree with roots deeply entwined. Around the trees trunk flames twirl and winds blow, while water races near its base. When seen in moonlight or by firelight, the pendant seems alive, the flames being chased by winds and the waters buffeting the firm base of the trunk.
Though once a strong enchantment of protection was placed on this pendant, it has faded in strength over the years leaving with it more of an aura of luck and benevolence.
Farris' Blade : When the races came together to battle against the demonic and undead forces, Farri's and Feanaro were among the many left to guard the world tree. Strongly overwhelmed, the races faught and personal alliances and friendships were quickly forged. Among them was an old Dwarf, straight from Ironforge. A ranger and warrior, Farris faught alongside Feanaro and twice saved him from the claws and blades of the enemy while the rest of his family fell. Unfortunatly Farris was eventually caught offguard while leading a counter attack on the enemys flank and fell to the scourges poisons. Feanaro had lost what was left of his composure, sucombing to a bloodrage that shocked his allies, and draged his old companion back to the reletive safety of their camp. On his death, Farris left his blade in Feanaro's care, protecting him with his weapon as he had with his life.
The blade carries no enchantments, but is perfectly balanced and forged from Mithril by Farris himself. Its edge has stayed keen over the years and its blade still retains its old shine. Feanaro made a scabbard from hides and marked them with a tribute to his friend in Elvish "Protector in life, protector in death"
Backstory : Feanaro came from the Serona family line, one of many houses in the Elven city of Darnassus. Though young by most standards, he came to apprciate and respect the solitude and quite of his forest home, similarly showing no interest in the world beyond. Studying law and beginning his training as a druid, Feanaro had been ripped from his peace when the Burning Legion lay siege to the world tree.
All elven had been called to defend the ancient tree, the centre of life itself, and many fell. Among them were the members of his family, several numbering in the thousands of years old. Though they faught with all their skill, the surprising force and ferocity of the enemy had overwhelmed their defences, and their prejudices against the lesser races stoped them from fighting effectively alongside their new allies.
Towards the end of the battle, the legions had massed on the final rise before the vally and the world tree itself. Feanaro and his family were among the vanguard, charged with flanking and slaughtering the enemy unawares. Among those with him were other members of the Alliance, including Farris who had already made his mark on the enemy.
Tired and battle worn the Vanguard prepared themselves, Elvish hunters and scouts hidden amongst the tree ready to give the right signal for attack. Farris himself was taking lead, to the protests of some Elven, including Feanaro's father. When the forces were eventually seen and the battle prepared, a surprise attack from their own flank led them to a defencesive, with Feanaro's father guarding their back and cursing the lesser races shortsightedness. When Farris had pressed forward to aid his father, he was shuned, some elven refusing to allow him forwards and taking positions themselves. Without coherrant leadership, the group fell apart and races started to group themselves.
His family had struck out on their own, Feanaro hard pressed to follow. The legions quickly broke up what was left of the group and fell had on their own, despite the spells his mother wove and the quick and deadly blade his father slashed with. It was Farris that saved him in the last moments and the horde decended upon what was left of Feanaros group. His family lay dead already, but Farris brought the group back together and pushed back an offencive.
After Farris' death and the end of the burning legion once again, Feanaro found little left in Darnassus. He felt an emptyness within him and looked to the world outside for comfort and solace to his aching heart. Turning from the Druidic teaching, Feanaro found himself more inclined to the role of a hunter, a protector like that of his father and friend Farris. His newfound mortality also humbled him and he felt his life wasted alone in Darnassus.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Also, if Fayeborn has no problem with it, I'l be throwing in the Gnome he created for good measure. I like the little guy.
Name : Oscald Wildwire
Age : 66
Race and class : Gnomish Magi with a Mechanical Squirrel companion.
Appearance : Looks like a gnome from any "Tallwalkers" eyes. Wispy white hair (the blue having faded years -and several spans of sanity- ago) standing in all directions from his balding scalp. Eyes a pale grey are often open wide and look out over a bulbous nose. His full-lipped mouth, always ready with a scowl or grin, displays prominently above a shock white goatee. It also manages to reach wildly at the air around it.
Loyalty : "Why does it matter?? If I'm loyal to one then the other wishes me dead, which is certainly no place to be - death. that is a state of unlife, and unless scourge or forsaken is truly the "afterlife" then there's no reason for belief in anything other than life to death to undeath to unlife!? Loyalty to the living I say! The living and the ignanamorphic, but that's a whole different subject -- What?? That's not a word? Absurd I tell you and absolutely unfathomablisted!! Yes, that's a word too! Who are you to contradict me? There's loyalty for you - Hrumph! Ungratefatalastins." *squints his eyes in mock anticipation of another rebuttal* "Shush it."
Equipment : A simple brown robe with a simple brown belt, hanging from which 3 simple brown pouches. A small backpack from which dangles a miner's pick on one side and a blacksmith hammer on the other. A tall wooden staff reminiscent of the "Illusionary Rod" from Scarlet Monastery, and a fire wand. (all gear mid to high 30'ish for comparison's sake). *items in packs and pouches - Arclight spanner. couple citrine/malachite/jade, etc and a few sticks of dynamite. Conjured food and water and some silk bandages - handful of copper bolts. What else would the mechanical squirrel eat??)
Backstory : Unlike everyone else in Azeroth, Oscald's life was relatively uneventful well into his 30's. His parents were still alive, his siblings still accounted for, and even his childhood friends were still playing in fields of green grass and catching the season's first snowflakes on their innocent tongues.
At least, that's the story he tells himself every night. The sad truth is; When forced to move in with the dwarves Oscald's parents seized an opportunity to make a few coins and educate Oscald in a trade at the same time! Indentured servitude.
Oscald was sold to a human "Mysterious Master of Modern Machinema and Blazes of the Burning Steppes!!" *insert amazed villagers gasp here!*. Oscalds favorite primary jobs were to pick up debris from explosions, gather minerals and rocks for his masters delight and to sometimes put the fires out his all-to-careless master left burning. His less favorite included helping "Charle' Ton - Mysterious Mas- so on and so forth.." come up with new ways to impress the simpleminded people of the countryside, scam them and make off with a few coins better spent on Holiday Lollipops and 8 slot bags. After what seemed like eternity3 (that's Eternity to the third power!) his master retired with nothing more than these words "Oscald, I retire. Your service here is done. Hopefully I have taught you well." and the clothes and items strapped to his small frame.
It was the culmination of those things that caused a gnome in the Wetlands one morning to "crack". He started giggling. He swapped to crying. Then to dancing, and finally to run with no direction in mind until he crumpled in the grass of a hillside, the sun warming his back and realized for the first time he was alone. No desire to see his parents, no desire for human companionship for a quite some time and no goal or aim or scam to come up with. He was unnoticed by the very world *swoosh* that he was part of *swoosh* and would be until.. uhm.. *swoosh* this noise went away??
He sat upright and looked at the tiny set of eyes a mere 12 inches (or 2/3rds a gnome..) away from his own. A mini-dragon! His eyes widened - it's eyes widened. He gasped - it snorted. He exhaled - it spouted flame. A small burst of fire singled the facial hair he had been growing. He pounced backwards and tried to get to his feet. The menacing creature advanced and belched another small bit of flame. He turned to run and noticed the hillside was littered with them! And they were advancing. Overwhelmed he began to run and lost his footing. He hit the ground hard enough to lose his wind and knew there were mere seconds before death came to claim his soul. He could feel tiny claws all over his body. He knew at any moment his entrails would be tore out and strewn about the blades of grass, but was shocked at what happened instead: The *swooshes* started again as he felt his shoulders raise from the ground. They were setting him back on his feet! It appeared they thought him a play toy! Then they played and danced about the field. Sometimes he would form strong bonds with one or two and it was as if they could communicate through gesture and emotion. They taught him fire magic, he taught them .. well, he was never sure what he taught them. Years passed living off the land by these whelps and he'd play and learn with each new brood that hatched. He'd also gather minerals and study them, committing details to memory. Sometimes he'd think about humans and gnomes and the way they'd speak and he'd say words he remembered. He'd speak to the shadows and often in his mind they'd answer. After a time the dragonkin changed. They became hunted and mistrusting and he knew his time spent with them was over. He wandered back into humanity, sold some of his gems from the deposits he mined over time and bought the simplest of supplies. He took up study under an artisan engineer who was as eccentric as himself and then he registered in the school of magic. He realized he only had ability with fire magic, and would never make a "full magi". He decided what he lacked in the arcane, he could make up with explosives. He still has no goals or destination. One day at a time.
No objection at all! If he works better into this, then we can use him either of us running him. If you prefer, scratch the dwarf concept and I'll run the gnome, or vice versa. A priest is never a bad thing to have aaround and I like the concept of a merc priest loyal mainly to himself.
Yep, I totally agree. We can have a number of characters we can run Fayeborn, I think were good enough writers to keep the continuity going. I'l post an opening when I get back from work, but I'v been working like a dog all weekend unfortunatly.
Edit: Actually, I found I dont have to go out for another hour so I'l post now.
I would gladly join if you would let me enter this piece of world with my second character. But I would feel it nice if we would start up with all different charcters form World of Azeroth, because:
(1) it would add a bonus, by entering a totally different group, backstories, etc..
(2) it does not have to collide with the other RPG's setup, so we can even make a 'meeting-point' of the different groups, or we would be able to exchange them!!!
This idea came up, when I attempted to make up my '2nd' char (not in WOW): Eilythriande Aryalinn (Blood elven Warrior, former member of the Spellbreaker Division): however, for plot reasons, I would feel it would be only good to feature him in a group that has no members common with Arinnaya's.
It would also allow to you to come up with characters unknown, but related to the characters at World of Azeroth!
The previous one was barely a suggestion, I await your opinion (most importantly, Grysham's)!!!
Feanaro is a plot character, central to the entire storyline. Without Feanaro there could be no plot, or I'd have to attach it to another character which would kind of... ruin the continuity with Feanaro and his dreams. Feel free to enter a new character though.
Bare in mind that this RP will take place AFTER the other. It will be LATER in YEARS than the other one.
OK.this might help to explain a few things... I attept to make up the charsheet ( however, a few things might actually change over)
Name: Eilythriande Aryalinn
Age: 75 (quite young for a Blood Elf, that live for approx.200 years)
Race and class: proud Blood Elven warrior, former member of the Spell-Breaker Division
Appearence and personality:At first sight, he is very appeasing: Quite tall, even with elven measures, and has a pleasingly handsome face, with long, blonde hair, and blue eyes. These often turn into glowing green, if he senses traces of magic around, and if not cautious enough to conceal this... He has a strongly-built body, but slightly lame on his left leg. This does not hinder him run fast, though. A shining and lively personality, if they ever get to know him, it is hard to forget...He can be bad-tempered sometimes, commencing and picking on others: however, these are never serious.
Loyalty: Though he will never leave any Highborne kin in trouble, he is currently working as a mercenary. He has nothing particular against humans, or some other races, but has to face serious prejustice from their side: that's why he prefers travelling in incognito, hiding his true identity for a high elf. He will not trust any Night Elf on the beginning, but their relationship might become less strined later on, when they get to know eachother...
Equipment: When travelling, he uses a simple, cheap, and ugly white cloak, but it solely serves to conceal his true equipment: Underneath, he still wears the red uniform of the Sin'Dorei He will NOT show his weapon anyone he does not trust, but he still owns a big, red shield, and other traces showing that he is one of the few, who visited Outland.
Special Posessions:
Spellbreaker Blade: A weapon of great renown, actually, quite a few have ever had their hand over a true specimen, despite being the "standard equipment" by Blood Elves. It is a long, specially-crafted, double-sided blade, that bears faintly glowing runes. The weapon must be handled carefully: Rotated above the head, and thrown into the enemy, it has great chance not only to bring devastating damage, but to dispel any magical effects, and hurt beings of magical origin: The blade need't be pulled out, since it is enchanted to return itself to the Spellbreaker's hands.
Ring of Rememberance: Not a truely magical artefact, this was given to him by Leyla Goldweaver, upon her departure.
Aryalinn family relic: Another small 'trinklet', this stems from his beloved Uncle. This piece is magical, and allows the viewing of long-dead relatives in the small gem inset.
Backstory: Born to a poor family of peasants and villagers in a small, forgotten township of Quel'thalas, he was advised by his Uncle: "If you want to become famous, seek out Silvermoon, and join the army!" and "If you wish to get rich, like none of your ancestors, work for the still few Human merchants!! Of course, the young boy wanted both, so he moved to Silvermoon, worked as a guard for some time, but as there was no war, to show his abilities, Eilythriande joined a human trading-house run by the Goldweaver family. Initially working there only as a lowbie member, he befriended the young daughter of the owner, named Leyla. As her father was more than often occupied, he asked the young fellow not only to guard her, but also, to introduce her into the Elven Kingdom. It was he, who taught her speak Talassian/Sindrassi. He could witness her growing into a beautiful young maiden...Yet the storm was still to come:
Arthas rampaged through the Northlands, nearing towards the Elfgates. The Goldweaver family was among the last ones to escape. Eilythriande re-joined the army, in hope of resisting the undead scourge. But they had no luck. Though they fought valaintly, they got separated from the main force, that tore through the gates, murdering everyone, razing everything, even turning the General Sylvanas into a restless spirit...
He, and his small force, held out for weeks without any hope of survival, or even supplies... Undead surrounded them from everywhere. Then, miraculously Arthas has left the land hastily, and so did all his minions. Yet Eilythriande had to pay a gret toll: all his relatives, friends, and his house: were made to ashes. For his brave resistance, he was granted a new rank in the army, by Prince Kael, himself!! They were instructed by a Blood Mage hastily, about the secrets of magics, but only superficiously, in order to be able to counterspell them, destroy magical creatures, and even steal enemy spells! After their training complete, a handful of them remained in Quel'thalas, with Eilythriande amiong them, on guard if the undeads return, while the others, lead by Prince Kael, attepted to join up with the Alliance. As we know, the latter ended in a catastrophe, and Kael fled to Outland: With Lord Ilidan's help, they opened portal to Quel'thalas, to bring the missing ones with them. Eilythriande faced the Black Citadel in the epic battle they finally won, but he got seriously wounded by an Infernal Contraption. He was so badly hurt on the leg, so he couldn't participate in the decisive battle at Icecrown.
After their return to the ruined city of Silvermoon, he worked on menial tasks, even as a simple builder.Later on, without rejoining the Blood Elven Army, he set out on adventuring, working as a mercenary, and seeking friends and realtives, believed to be long lost...
Looks:
Purple skin, long dark blue hair, tattoos in the form of batwings over her face, clothes made of :leaves, dirt, twigs and other stuff you find in a forest. , 2-handed sledge hammer
Special possesions:
Aquatic pendant (left half): the sign of a seel
Bright blue bracers: inscribed with somekind of spell, they increase the strenght of nacolita
Backstory:
Nacolita was left behind at a very young age in the forest and got raized by the animals who lived there. She grew older and learned from nature and inner strenght that she had the power to transform into animal shapes. This started easy with a normal bear form.
Later it was the form that looked like a tiger.
Now she has made contact with a civalized world and she was excepted by other Night elves who were also trained in the art of shapechanging. they helped her perfecting her forms and controlling the changes.
Now she ran through an area she tought was called Duskwood.
Linear Mode
