Kartha_Rolein_Rinari
New Member
Concept
This is based on my Demon Hunter I have roleplayed in WoW since the Vanilla days; Amorae Ala’nas Witherleaf—a female Kaldorei who became a Demon Hunter. Following the path of Illidan Stormrage, a self-made Demon Hunter by the name of Ler’Vedyas Shadowblade took Amorae as a pupil for many centuries.
During the Vanilla years of WoW, she was one of three or four Demon Hunters on the server. Of course, as time progressed more started arising. These days, being a Demon Hunter has a complete lack of weight in the community and I started longing for the old days.
This is the era after the sundering. Illidan is already imprisoned and has been for hundreds of years. Remnant demons still plague the Kaldorei lands of Ashenvale Forest, Mount Hyjal, Darkshore, Felwood, and the outlying reaches. The events now will eventually lead to the War of the Satyr, and possibly beyond if you are interested.
Expectations
Due to the era and theme of this roleplay, I am looking for someone interested in playing another Kaldorei character. Considering the starting point and theme, you may choose the age and the gender. However, your character is a child or teenager (40 - 90ish; maturity is 100). The initial story post below is based on this pre-requisite.
If you are interested in playing an adult, we can discuss the option. However, with an older character, there will be a higher quality of complexity considering the absolute loathing and hatred Kaldorei have for Demon Hunters. In this era, they see them as traitors and just as bad, if not worse, as Demons. After Illidan’s betrayal, other Kaldorei is highly likely to attack a roaming Demon Hunter on sight just on principle alone.
People with experience in the Warcraft universe are preferred though those unfamiliar with the Warcraft universe are welcome. In the latter case, some research into Kaldorei lore is highly recommended.
Story Starter
The heavy scent of blood and smoke fills your nostrils. The rippling shadows of blood-thirsty fel beasts streak through the forest and along the ground. The stampeding thunder of their presence fills the earth with fear. Fires rage around you, decimating trees and buildings. Those you once called friends scream and cry as felhounds run them down. Torrents of terror are stifled and replaced with the tremors of slaughter, the swishing of flesh, and the cracking of bone. One by one the people of your village are slaughtered and devoured.
Your eyes welled with fear and tears streak across the scene of death and destruction. Just then, the blade strikes and your face is splattered with the crimson liquid of your father. His head strikes the ground and rolls away with his body collapsing. Your mother’s screams are suddenly silenced as she is sliced in half. Her torso flies off into the building to your right with blood splattering everywhere. Her face stares at you with eternal horror emblazoned in her expression; tears rolling from her eyes as blood explodes from her mouth. Her legs collapse in front of you as a hound drags her still breathing torso away by her entrails. What little strength is left in her life expresses through her hands as her nails barely drag at the earth. The last you hear of her is the gurgled whimpers and the shredding of her flesh.
The glowing emerald eyes of the demon before you seethe with blood lust and rage. It slowly turns his grinning head toward you. Nothing emanates from its expression but the pure, raw desire to end all life. The demon raises the blade, grasping with both of its gauntleted hands. It snarls and laughs at you—the child of the dead soon to be no more than meat for the feast.
Just then, as all hope drains from your soul, the demon grunts and collapses to the ground. A passing breeze carries your blood-stained hair forward for but a moment. The demon's head slides free and falls, rolling along the earth with the stain of its emerald blood glowing in the light of the fire. In its place stands a ragged, white-skinned, silver-haired woman with emerald eyes of her own. Another demon killing the demons?
She snarls at the corpse and turns her head to you for but a moment. Glaives still raised, your death will come still and from merely a different demon. However, in that moment, you note the felhounds throughout the village suddenly raise their heads from their feasting and chasing. They leave the mangled, shredded corpses and start toward you and this creature. Instead of killing you, this white-skinned demon turns to face the charging hounds in your defense. Emerald blood-stained arm glaives ready to strike.
“Run.” She states in a harsh, commanding tone. Her feet slide apart into a complex combat stance, though you have seen only such things in observing the Kaldorei sentinels. “RUN!” She shouts this time. The glow of demonic runes burns in her flesh across the fullness of her body. Her blades, aligned along the back of her arm with the hilt in hand in a reverse glance style, shimmer in the firelight. In the darkest tales, you heard of such beings. Hated and despised by your people—feared and loathed for their corruption and betrayal of the Kaldorei culture. A Demon Hunter.
The felhounds charge and you have moments to act. Moments to run or moments to live…
This is based on my Demon Hunter I have roleplayed in WoW since the Vanilla days; Amorae Ala’nas Witherleaf—a female Kaldorei who became a Demon Hunter. Following the path of Illidan Stormrage, a self-made Demon Hunter by the name of Ler’Vedyas Shadowblade took Amorae as a pupil for many centuries.
During the Vanilla years of WoW, she was one of three or four Demon Hunters on the server. Of course, as time progressed more started arising. These days, being a Demon Hunter has a complete lack of weight in the community and I started longing for the old days.
This is the era after the sundering. Illidan is already imprisoned and has been for hundreds of years. Remnant demons still plague the Kaldorei lands of Ashenvale Forest, Mount Hyjal, Darkshore, Felwood, and the outlying reaches. The events now will eventually lead to the War of the Satyr, and possibly beyond if you are interested.
Expectations
Due to the era and theme of this roleplay, I am looking for someone interested in playing another Kaldorei character. Considering the starting point and theme, you may choose the age and the gender. However, your character is a child or teenager (40 - 90ish; maturity is 100). The initial story post below is based on this pre-requisite.
If you are interested in playing an adult, we can discuss the option. However, with an older character, there will be a higher quality of complexity considering the absolute loathing and hatred Kaldorei have for Demon Hunters. In this era, they see them as traitors and just as bad, if not worse, as Demons. After Illidan’s betrayal, other Kaldorei is highly likely to attack a roaming Demon Hunter on sight just on principle alone.
People with experience in the Warcraft universe are preferred though those unfamiliar with the Warcraft universe are welcome. In the latter case, some research into Kaldorei lore is highly recommended.
Story Starter
The heavy scent of blood and smoke fills your nostrils. The rippling shadows of blood-thirsty fel beasts streak through the forest and along the ground. The stampeding thunder of their presence fills the earth with fear. Fires rage around you, decimating trees and buildings. Those you once called friends scream and cry as felhounds run them down. Torrents of terror are stifled and replaced with the tremors of slaughter, the swishing of flesh, and the cracking of bone. One by one the people of your village are slaughtered and devoured.
Your eyes welled with fear and tears streak across the scene of death and destruction. Just then, the blade strikes and your face is splattered with the crimson liquid of your father. His head strikes the ground and rolls away with his body collapsing. Your mother’s screams are suddenly silenced as she is sliced in half. Her torso flies off into the building to your right with blood splattering everywhere. Her face stares at you with eternal horror emblazoned in her expression; tears rolling from her eyes as blood explodes from her mouth. Her legs collapse in front of you as a hound drags her still breathing torso away by her entrails. What little strength is left in her life expresses through her hands as her nails barely drag at the earth. The last you hear of her is the gurgled whimpers and the shredding of her flesh.
The glowing emerald eyes of the demon before you seethe with blood lust and rage. It slowly turns his grinning head toward you. Nothing emanates from its expression but the pure, raw desire to end all life. The demon raises the blade, grasping with both of its gauntleted hands. It snarls and laughs at you—the child of the dead soon to be no more than meat for the feast.
Just then, as all hope drains from your soul, the demon grunts and collapses to the ground. A passing breeze carries your blood-stained hair forward for but a moment. The demon's head slides free and falls, rolling along the earth with the stain of its emerald blood glowing in the light of the fire. In its place stands a ragged, white-skinned, silver-haired woman with emerald eyes of her own. Another demon killing the demons?
She snarls at the corpse and turns her head to you for but a moment. Glaives still raised, your death will come still and from merely a different demon. However, in that moment, you note the felhounds throughout the village suddenly raise their heads from their feasting and chasing. They leave the mangled, shredded corpses and start toward you and this creature. Instead of killing you, this white-skinned demon turns to face the charging hounds in your defense. Emerald blood-stained arm glaives ready to strike.
“Run.” She states in a harsh, commanding tone. Her feet slide apart into a complex combat stance, though you have seen only such things in observing the Kaldorei sentinels. “RUN!” She shouts this time. The glow of demonic runes burns in her flesh across the fullness of her body. Her blades, aligned along the back of her arm with the hilt in hand in a reverse glance style, shimmer in the firelight. In the darkest tales, you heard of such beings. Hated and despised by your people—feared and loathed for their corruption and betrayal of the Kaldorei culture. A Demon Hunter.
The felhounds charge and you have moments to act. Moments to run or moments to live…
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