- Name: Chrysanthiel
- Race: Blood Elf
- Age: Adult
- Gender: Female
- Height/Weight: 173cm/59kg
- Class: Rogue
- Birthplace: Silvermoon
- Professions: Alchemy, Herbalism
- Family: Vyn (father/unknown), Caelri (mother/unknown), Levyn (brother/living), Sinar (sister/living). Claims to have no family.
Once untouched flesh is twisted and scarred into the work of art only the heated flame of a scorching fire could create - from the tip of her right ear licking down her arm and side. Tresses of harshly bleached hair frame a delicate, porcelain face, sometimes masking an ever searching gaze. Her silhouette is slender but well curved, toned well but with a certain graceful elegance. Eyes, of course, are illuminated by the dim green glow that express her people - even if her own inner addictions detest her.
This elf usually holds herself in pride though, from her graceful strides to how she'll keep herself presentable in public with elegant clothing - despite her scar she has the looks of a noble simply marked by an unfortunate event. Looks can be quite deceiving.
From the outside she seems to be a really caring girl, albeit a bit eccentric. Soft-spoken, strange even with her lyrical way of speaking in only rhymes. The elven girl has a carefree air about her with an enchanting smile. But behind that is someone very cautious and very wary to her surroundings, as if she is waiting for something to happen. Caring yes, but deep within she has a strong hatred burning that is hard for her to ignore. Sometimes seen as unapproachable even for the mere scar that haunts her flesh, she stays reclusive usually. Perhaps even seeming a bit too delicate in appearance, her toned body suggests that she can be quite the fierce fighter, and if something tugs at her strings she can be quick to anger.
Prelude: Writings of an Outcast Edit
- "I opened my eyes, squinting as I was blinded by the piercing illumination that surrounded me. It felt like I had not viewed light in a long while to the point it burned. Sitting up, my eyes began to focus and I came into realization of where I was. Familiar scenaries that somehow my mind could not place at that moment. Delicate and seemingly extravagant, even for a small, simple place where injured were treated. Silver...Silvermoon? Was that it? The name tugged at my mind with unsettling distress. Wincing, I began to feel the subtle pain of tubes and needles that submerged into my skin. Dazed and confused, I am not even certain I was thinking clearly or at all when I pulled them out. I climbed out of bed despite the crimson that flowed out of the inflicted wounds and stained the clean white robes that had been placed onto me at some point in my unconsciousness. I began to walk unsteadily. Walking to where, I wasn't even sure myself. I think it was all the questions that came spilling into my mind then that struck a nerve. I think even now I can remember the pain on my knees as I collapsed when not even able to make it yet to the door, desperately grasping my head as mental images came flooding back. Not all... no. That would have been too much I assume now. Death, carnage, massacres. Screams were all I could hear and decaying flesh... flashes of images of things that shouldn't even be allowed upon this world. A face... I saw a face... but who... I could not tell you for the sick reason of the features being faded. It was the last thing I saw before everything went black and everything shattered. I was pulled back to reality by searing pain that struck my shoulder. I looked up, faced by fearsome looks staring at me as if I were some monster. Another question of why? Adrenaline is a funny thing, I learned in that moment. I ignored the magic that had harmed me, and did all I could to escape. My mind was clouded with confusion and fear, panic and dismay at what was going on. I heard yells for guards, and blurs of colours mixing together red and gold. It was not before long when realizing I had made my way to a forest, and seemingly safe from any more attacks. I would have praised any god at that moment of escaping if I knew of one.
- Time has passed since then. I have seen what people have become, my own family... my, how time changes people. Perhaps I am in the wrong for not wanting to follow it. Those dreaded Knights are all brainwashed drones. Even confronting my own fears only left me marked with this hideous scar I must live with... Fire... oh the vengeance of a burning fire. -He- left me for dead. My own brother.
- I still think of the day I woke up. I still question how this life would be like now if things had happened differently. I would press upon the matter if it didn't fill me with fear. I have no desire of it, not in the least, for I had been told once that perhaps it was best I didn't dwell upon it. I didn't really understand what that meant, but unsettling as I feel I cannot help but not want to question anymore. For all I know, my life began that day in the infirmary."