The Ironsong Tribe

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((Hello! I am a WoW RPer, from Silver Hand originally, and now with the return of WotLK, I intend to roll a Death Knight on the horde side. *Yes I know there will be -droves- of them, but I intend to fight them tooth and nail, as this is the character and class I really really want to play. Anyway, would be very interested in applying to the guild once this character....*Clears throat* Exists. Smile So thought I'd post her backstory for critique and such because I am slightly foggy on the lore. Smile Would love any opinions and additions. Look forward to meeting you all!))

~The following is inscribed on a mess of parchment, in script that could possibly once been fantastic and beautiful, now shaken and rather hard to read.~

I was born, Alekksi Brightwing, a high elf, to a family of priests. A long line of them actually.

I grew up loved, and while in training to become a healer I met him. I find it hard to remember him now, but I knew the day he brushed the sweat away from my cheeks, and told me I was one of the best students he had ever trained. I knew I would follow him until my last days.

And I did.

With the blessings of my parents, we were to be married. I had nearly finished my training, and we had picked out a small abode to share. My love would remain at the academy, training new students in the ways of the light, and I would continue my healing, until we decided to
expand our family. It was perfect.

Did not matter, however. To the Prince, I was another number, a victory, one less that could possibly oppose him.

I will never forget that day. The day that the Prince set foot in Quel'Thalas. Many of my memories have been wiped away by the cold, but that one will remain seared in the back of my eyelids forever. The Scourge was everywhere. There was -nothing- we could do.

I know you wait to hear about our escape, my own tiny victory, finding my freedom away from the burning walls of Quel'Thalas. Sadly I was one of them that did not make it. I died that day. I am not sure what happened to the rest of my family, my love, my home.
All I remember was the warmth of my own blood, as I fell to my knees in front of him.

Arthas. I came to know him as my savior. Sweeping me up from the cold hands of death, and showing me that it was indeed not over.

He did not save my father, my mother, any of the others. I remember him staring through me, clean through me. He offered me eternal strength, if I should merely give him my soul.

I wish I could say, I would have rather died then give in to such a offer. However, the fear of death, and the stench of my own blood caused me to succumb to his offer. I do remember his icy breath on the back of my neck, as everything around me faded away, and I joined the
mindless army of the soon to be Lich King.

The power I have obtained now, seems by far greater then any I could have wielded with mere faith and light. The cold does not bother me anymore. It seems my body has embraced it, my hair, which was once raven black, is now a snowy winter white. My name, is gone.
The Prince had renamed me, as if I were an addition to his collection. I was no longer Alekksi Brightwing. I am simply to be known as......Desire. One of the few high elves left. Although I suppose I am not 'left'. I was wiped away with the rest of them. What exists now is not
the priestess healer that once was.

I suppose I could not have come this far without him. I suppose some would say that makes him my father, my master, and for a time I did think of him as such. I wished only to gain the strength and be at his side in battle. To wipe away any who oppose him. To leave their homes
burned, and their lives extinguished.

I could not tell you what happened that day. The day that something cracked inside me and let light back in. The day my bitter cold darkness melted if only a bit. It was the day I held my sword over a mother and child. She simply curled around the baby as if her soft body would
shield the tiny soul from my sword. To throw her own life away for something so.....innocent. When that baby looked up at me, with eyes that had never seen evil. Even sensing his mothers fear, he simply watched me. It was then, my chest cracked open inside. Something came
back to life. Something made me drop my own sword and let them flee.

I had never given in, I had been re known as one of Arthas' best soldiers. Now, I let my ordered prey flee to safety.

Then the flood started. My memories, the scourge, the deaths.....my people. By some strange grace the sun flooded the village we had been burning, and it bounced from my silver armor. Pushing at my empty insides, reminding me of the evil I had become.

Suddenly, the very one whom had been my savior, my master, my lord.....became the object of my hatred. My own will once again broke free of the icy chains he had wrapped it in. Now I had no fear, no tool to use against my soul. I am not Alekksi Brightwing to this day,
but I will avenge her death.

Once, I fell to my knees in front of him, and I traded my soul to him for strength. Someday, he will fall to his knees in front of me.....and I will not give him such an offer.

I am a Death Knight, and this is my story.

My name is, Desire.