Aphraelle

Aphraelle Winterlight

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Full Name: Aphraelle Winterlight

Age: 126 (human-equivalent about 28)

Race: Sin'dorei

Gender: Female

Hair: Pale honey-blonde, slightly wavy, falling below shoulders.

Skin: Extremely pale, ivory to bone white.

Eyes: Naturally slate grey; with the felmana overlay common to Sin'dorei they appear a dark malachite green.

Height: 5'10" / 177 cm.

Weight: 132 lb. / 60 kg.

Physical Features: High cheekbones, large eyes, very red lips. Slim build.

Positive Personality Traits: Courteous, generous, always willing to help someone if asked politely.

Negative Personality Traits: Vain, impatient, capable of caustic sarcasm, resistant. Very touchy. Tends to overreact to perceived betrayal.

Quirks: Her most characteristic mannerism is an arched eyebrow, which can mean almost anything depending on context. Extremely allergic to cats, and loathes them - will kill them if they make her sneeze, whenever possible. Update: due to being given an allergy medicine by a guildmate, she is able to be around cats and has adopted a kitten.

Place of residence: When not in "the city," by which she means Silvermoon City, she stays wherever her travels take her.

Place of Birth: Ruins of Silvermoon

Known Relatives: Mother and younger sister (left the family, missing and presumed dead), father (dead)

Religion/Philosophy: "Trust no one." "Power is the only safety."

Occupations: Seamstress and enchantress.

Guild affiliation: The Order of Eversong.

Guild Rank: Initiate.

Enemies: No spoken enemies; how many unspoken enemies she has is unknown. (see "More Recently:")

Likes: Solitude or the company of other warlocks. Clothes of all kinds - frequently buys a new dress on impulse or whim.

Dislikes: Alliance in general and particularly Kal'dorei (whom she regards as debased barbarians), anything that smells bad (which unfortunately includes many Forsaken), coarseness or vulgarity, cats, most priests and nearly all paladins.

Weapons of Choice: Daggers and light one-handed swords, a very little, staves perhaps a little more but she's no brawler, and the demons she commands are strong enough but not the strongest of their type. Her weapons are fel and shadow, her spells and curses, affliction and infliction from afar.

Favorite Foods: Rather fussy so tends to prefer her own cooking.

Favorite Drinks: Water, fruit juice, occasionally drinks alcohol but has learned the hard way that she doesn't have much head for it so generally sticks to Suntouched Special Reserve, although she also likes Dwarven Stout on occasion.

Favorite Colors: Crimson, pale green, cobalt blue.

Hobbies: Reading, usually serious tomes connected with the warlock's path but she also has a weakness for steamy romance novels.

Special Abilities: Has been aware of demons and the spirits of the dead since childhood. Able to apply makeup flawlessly while in flight on a windrider, bat or galloping felsteed.

Played By What Famous Person: Tricia Helfer (especially as Number Six in the new Battlestar Galactica)

Theme Song: Anticipate by Ani DiFranco and, more as how she sees things than what she'd say, <<VIDEO NSFW!>>

by Demago (in French, lyrics are here), also Keep Your Hands To Yourself by the Georgia Satellites.

Character Diamond

  • Elitist: Like many Blood Elves, Aphraelle privately believes the Sin'dorei to be the pinnacle of Azerothian evolution. While she is quite aware that the Sin'dorei benefit militarily by their alliance with the rest of the Horde, she is equally convinced that the barbarians of the Horde are in dire need of Sin'dorei grace and culture, insofar as they are capable of perceiving it. She invariably reverts to speaking Thalassian with other Blood Elves, since "Orcish is all right for the basics, I suppose, but it just doesn't have the nuances of Thalassian."
    She is always flawlessly attired and made up, and exquisitely polite, since in her view anything less would be beneath the dignity of a Sin'dorei of breeding. She also regards the way that many Blood Elves conduct their love lives in public, with frequent changes of partner and much attendant angst, as unspeakably tawdry.
  • Calculating: Aphraelle is a consummately political creature and is always conscious of the effect of her words and actions on those around her. On the rare occasions she is involved in disputes, she would far rather back down with a graceful apology, particularly if the other person is being unreasonable or if she seems unlikely to win. This tendency can make her appear submissive to those who don't know her well, but this is a false impression: her reason for apologizing in this manner is generally to make herself look like the "bigger person" and also to prevent or at least minimize continued ill-feeling and potential reprisals.
    She is also careful to dismiss her attendant demons, or to require her succubus to remain invisible, when entering cities, since she does not necessarily wish to be publicly identified as a warlock. Her concern for her appearance, noted above, is also fuelled by her awareness that she is a beautiful woman and her desire to exploit that beauty in the pursuit of her goals. She is frequently generous with her time, and helpful, partly through a naturally expansive generosity that she believes is characteristic of Sin'dorei culture at its best (see "Elitist"), and again through a desire to cultivate useful friendships wherever possible.
  • Prudish/Frigid: Aphraelle is modest to the point of prudishness. She will never, under any circumstances, disrobe in public and very rarely wears very short or revealing clothing. She is coldly dismissive of almost all advances made to her, particularly if they are crude or explicit, although she will on occasion tolerate them if the person making them may be useful to her in some way (see "Calculating").
    Her few brushes with sexuality - she is in fact still a virgin - have been uniformly bad and she has little or no interest in exploring that area of life; this is another reason (see also "Elitist") that she is so contemptuous of the omnipresent sexuality she observes in Silvermoon City and the Eversong Woods.
  • Loyal: Although the other facets of her personality might indicate someone who is concerned only for herself, Aphraelle is in fact fiercely loyal to her guild and to those she considers genuine friends. She is quite likely to drop what she is doing if called for assistance, and has gone so far as to offer herself as a potential candidate for a political marriage to seal a guild alliance, should her guild have need of her in this capacity. The offer was rejected, but remains as far as she is concerned, her viewpoint being that if she has to have someone pawing at her (see "Prudish/Frigid"), it might as well be of benefit to someone.

History

Beginnings

Aphraelle was born in what is now the Ruins of Silvermoon, the elder of two sisters, to a baron's daughter and a commoner father who had been raised to the rank of gentry by the lady's exceptionally broad-minded father, primarily to make him an at least minimally acceptable husband. At a young age she became aware of demons, and her father - himself a warlock - determined that she would follow him on the dark path. This occasioned bitter fights between her parents, as her mother was a devout follower of the Light and had no intention of permitting any child of hers to become a warlock. Aphraelle's natural talents, however, proved too strong and her father was soon instructing her in secret in the basics of demonology.

When Aphraelle's mother caught wind of this, there ensued the bitterest quarrel yet, and shortly after that she took her younger daughter, who had no trace of Aphraelle's talent for the warlock's path, and fled the city, taking a zeppelin to Orgrimmar and from there heading out in the direction of The Barrens or possibly Mulgore. No further word of the two was ever received, despite diligent searching, and it is presumed that they are dead.

Lady-in-Waiting

Aphraelle took her mother's abandonment, as she perceived it, deeply to heart. She became untrusting, wary of forming close attachments, and threw herself single-mindedly into her studies of the dark path. When she was coming into her womanhood, her pale beauty caught the eye of a noblewoman in the Court of the Sun, who engaged her as a lady's maid. The pay was not particularly good, although it helped Aphraelle and her father in their somewhat reduced circumstances, but it afforded Aphraelle the opportunity to mingle with those of high rank - an opportunity she made the most of, assiduously studying the language and manners of the court. She could not know it, of course, but her resemblance to her mother, both physically and in her grace and poise, grew more marked with every passing day.

When her employer's roving eye lighted on a particularly handsome member of the Royal Guard, Aphraelle passed messages between them and hid the affair from the lady's husband. When the young guard attempted to blackmail the lady, Aphraelle went to him and professed her weariness of her employer's cruelty and her willingness to help him. Winning his trust, she became his co-conspirator until, at a late-night rendezvous in a deserted park during the young guard's shift, she brought him some food she had stolen from her employer's kitchen. The food had been liberally laced with a variety of unpleasant poisons, and the unfortunate young man took nearly an hour to die, while Aphraelle watched calmly from a convenient park bench. When she reported back to her employer that the deed was done, the lady, who knew of Aphraelle's noble blood on her mother's side, used her considerable influence at court to have Aphraelle's mother declared officially dead and her title of Lady transferred to Aphraelle in the absence of other heirs.

Her father, who had already begun to grow jealous of Aphraelle's innate gifts for fel magic, which far outstripped his own, was enraged and humiliated by her elevation to the nobility while he remained a mere gentleman, and took to drinking heavily and frequenting houses of ill repute where, among other vices, patrons would smoke various narcotic drugs in hookahs thoughtfully provided by the management. His moods swung between dark rages and maudlin sentimentality for his lost wife, depending on which substance he was most under the influence of at the time, and things only worsened when Aphraelle lost her employment as a result of her employer's committing another indiscretion while Aphraelle was on leave and unable to assist her. The lady's husband, returning early from Court one evening, found his wife in a most compromising position under another guardsman, and summarily divorced her after dismissing all of her servants, including Aphraelle, and having the guardsman flogged and expelled from the Royal Guards.

Rude Awakening

One night, befuddled by drink and drugs, Aphraelle's father returned home shortly before dawn and attempted to force intimacy on her. When she rebuffed him in scornful disgust, he struck her in the face, sending her sliding across the floor, and began to summon his succubus, telling Aphraelle that she should watch and learn because she was to be next. In his state of advanced impairment, however, he neglected a crucial Demonic rune in the drawing of the circle, and when his succubus appeared, it was not under his control. Aphraelle, sitting against the wall, shut her eyes and covered her ears but could not blot out the cacophony of whip cracks, screams and peals of demonic laughter that concluded only when the succubus returned at daybreak to the Nether, dragging with it the pitifully shrieking remnants of her father.

Unable to bear Silvermoon City for a time, she moved for a while to Falconwing Square, helping as best she could in the dark times after the destruction of the Sunwell.

Fire

On her return to what was left of Silvermoon, Aphraelle joined the guild Ignis Divine, where she was for a time very happy. Several guild members shocked her pleasantly by their apparently limitless willingness to help her acquire the very best of equipment, and shortly after joining she befriended another warlock, who was far more advanced than she on the path of the dark arts. The two women became both teacher and pupil and fast friends, and Aphraelle began, slowly, to let down her guard, despite her growing awareness that warlocks were not well-regarded by other members of Ignis. She determined that when she was more experienced, she would in turn aid junior members as she had been aided, and perhaps the prejudice against those of her path would fade.

One evening, however, after returning from a short vacation in the Eversong Woods, she found the guild in complete disarray. Members were leaving in some numbers to join another guild, Sanctuary. Aphraelle knew nothing of this guild, but as Janith, the Forsaken woman who had originally invited her to the guild, was also joining Sanctuary, she decided to follow suit. When she got to the Bazaar, however, she witnessed some bitter argument, including a flat statement by a Tauren shaman named Feralmoon that she, Feralmoon, would not share a guild with "that damned warlock." This evidently referred to Vishkara, who after a private conversation with the leader of Sanctuary left the Bazaar weeping.

Aphraelle followed her friend, who, after many tears, determined to retrieve a book she said had been stolen from her. The two, along with an orcish shaman named Gordsmasher, went to the Ignis Divine guildhall. There Vishkara, after retrieving a tome of advanced fel magic that had been locked in a case, began casting fire spells and bolts of raw fel energy in every direction. Aphraelle was shocked at the violence of her friend's reaction and at the damage to a guild that had been so good to her, but said nothing: the other woman was in a towering rage and strong enough to obliterate her with one shadowbolt, and Aphraelle was, admittedly, exhilarated by the display of fel power far beyond anything she had ever witnessed.

When Vishkara left Ignis, Aphraelle joined her, not without considerable regret and second thoughts, and the two formed an association of warlocks known as Veiled in Darkness with a small group of junior warlocks, as well as the orcish shaman, who attached himself to the guild for reasons known only to himself. She missed certain of her former companions, but did not miss the distrust accorded to those on the dark path, and in any case she was and is pragmatic enough to know the truth of the old saying about spilt milk.

Changing Times

Unsatisfied with its rate of progress, Vishkara left Veiled in Darkness, bitterly disappointing Aphraelle, and began thereafter to show signs of succumbing to the corruption of the fel path, to Aphraelle's horror and sorrow. Aphraelle struggled on as the leader of her coven for some while, but realized that the time was not right; moreover, her commitments to her own studies were simply too great to permit her to assume the added responsibility of leading a coven without assistance.

Having exchanged letters with a Forsaken in the Undercity by the name of Reginald Grimsford, who had made a mindslave of a human woman, she had the idea of having Grimsford create one for her. He was initially resistant, but she held out the reward of being able to work on a Sin'dorei and he eventually relented.

Finding a naive young paladin by the name of Talorios in Eversong Woods, she presented herself to him as a travelling noblewoman in need of protection. The young paladin attached himself to her, and she soon had him enthralled with her beauty, her flashing wit, and her generosity to him, although she quickly realized that any putative offer of her body would be wasted on him, inclined to his own sex as he was. Nevertheless, he was fascinated by this creature of the Court of the Sun, as he thought her, and became quite enamoured of her in his own chaste manner.

Eventually, she asked him if he would be willing to pass a confidential verbal message to a friend of hers in the Undercity, citing her unwillingness to go to the Undercity herself due to a "minor misunderstanding." Although hesitant, Talorios agreed. The "friend" was of course Reginald Grimsford, and the message was simply You may proceed. Within a few weeks Aphraelle was able to leave Veiled in Darkness in the hands of her new minion, and sought entrance to a guild where she could contribute her skills, eventually settling on the Raven Cross after some days of diligent research.

The Raven Flies

Since joining the Raven Cross Aphraelle has made peace with those folk of Ignis Divine that she has encountered, and has progressed greatly in her studies, to the point that she looks forward to the not-too-distant day when she will finish her training and be of more use to the guild. In general, she has never been happier. Finding a noble title more of a hindrance than any genuine benefit, and aware that it was only acquired by subterfuge, she has ceased using the title Lady and reverted to simply "Miss Winterlight."

As of a month or so ago, she has changed her mind about her title of Baroness and uses it openly: whether or not it was acquired with the aid of strings pulled behind the scenes, it's hers now and moreover she is, as far as anyone knows, the last surviving member of House Winterlight.

Power to the People

Recently, Aphraelle has become concerned with the precarious position of the Sin'dorei people, and chooses to focus her energies on working specifically for their advancement, among other things lobbying in the Court of the Sun for Lor'themar Theron's position to be consolidated, as she believes that if he falls, the Sin'dorei will devolve into civil war. For this reason she has joined the Order of Eversong, as she believes that an organization focused on the welfare of the Sin'dorei people is more in line with her purposes.

Fever Dreams

[[OOC: I have been otherwise very busy, and so absent from WoW and the TNG for some while.]] She has recently woken from a long sickness, lying in a healer's bed - where, she does not know. She has been feverish and comatose for months, only coming to her senses in the last week or so, and believes that she has been poisoned. She is still very weak, and disoriented from not knowing what has occurred during her illness.

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*crosses her arms and blinks.* Yes, I know her. She was under my care for a while when I served the Windfall house. *tugs at her sleeves and look away* She is not a bad person... just does not always make the right choices. *Pales a bit and nods to the speaker* Eh... have a good day. *slinks away*

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(("When she got to the Bazaar, however, she witnessed some bitter argument, including a flat statement by a Tauren druid named Feralmoon that she, Feralmoon, would not share a guild with "that damned warlock." This evidently referred to Vishkara, who after a private conversation with the leader of Sanctuary left the Bazaar weeping." ---*SHRIEK! EVILMONKEY POINT* I AM NOT A DRUID @_@ NOT A DRUID!))

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---*SHRIEK! EVILMONKEY POINT* I AM NOT A DRUID @_@ NOT A DRUID!))

Oops. It was late. I was tired. Now corrected. Unless you're not a shaman, either, in which case *I FAIL*.:D

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I have seen her at the Cross meetings of course but yesterday was the first time I actually had interactions with this warlock.

Truth be told there is much about her personality that is startlingly familiar. Perhaps it is in part due to her chosen path in her studies. She has a refreshing wit and keen mind.

In any event the little adventure into Uldaman was not planned but it was a pleasant distraction, even though the goal was not quite achieved. If she needs help again I shall be available.

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"Miss Winterlight. Ever so polite." He chuckled slightly, absently rubbing a hand over his scruff of a beard. "Pity the man who breaks that polite mask... although... I am sure she would be spectacular in her rage..."

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Aphraelle? Of course I know her. I have fought diverse battles alongside her.

`Folds the tapestry and sets it aside.`

Yes, including the Paladin. I do not see why he should always come up, but it is a popular question.

What would you know of her? She is the kindest among kind souls. Fair. Although, I should think somewhere inside of her lurks a very distinct temper that when broke, might just summon the Apocalypse.

`Smirks.`

She is an expert seamstress among the best. Always well dressed. I do like well dressed people.

I think people are often wary of her. They sense that looming darkness that I do. She could very well end the life of anyone who displeased her, I am almost certain of it. She should be an Empress the same as me, or a great Queen. The Goddess knows she would be a fantastic ruler.

`Pulls the tapestry into her lap and gestures for one of her women to escort you out.`

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"The Shadow Magus?" He smirks. "No, I know what I said. Despite what she calls herself, she acts far closer to a mage who's delved into shadow. The title fits.

"She's mistaken me for Zael'dran before, but I believe that we have that cleared up and now have an... understanding. She has my respect, but, like many who walk with demons, my blade will quickly remove her head from her shoulders should she ever lose control." He turns and walks away. "Trust me. It's far more merciful than what would happen if I didn't."

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*rubs a small bandage on her arm and frowns a bit* It's hard to say. I did her wrong, and she was more gracious than she should have been. Than I would have been in her shoes. I cried that day, more for shame than for having to admit to someone else what I did. Her strength and kindness got me through, got us both through I think.

*shrugs a bit and smooths her dress* She's well liked as far as I can tell. And she knows things...*looks at you carefully, eyeing you up and down* She knows things...useful things. One day a secret rage might come up from inside of that one. She's like the rest of us, but far too calm given the things she's endured. At least...what little I've seen. Don't be there if she ever breaks...

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FG: Aphraelle... *the Tauren Shaman's eyes narrow, she fingers the beads in her hair lightly and seems to contemplate before she speaks* Warlocks...I am firm in my knowledge they are a bane to the Natural Order. However, this one shows promise of reform were it ever possible... We'll see how she fares.

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((Bump! Changed her theme song. Yeah, it's sung by a guy, but the words fit. Video (briefly) shows full nudity a few times - Europeans are a lot more relaxed about such things - may be NSFW.))

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The elflady seems to brighten up at the mention of the name. "Quite proper. I think I like her, though we've only met once. She told me I had...'wit.' I don't know much else about her, other than she seems to cloak herself in secrecy as surely as she does those voluminous robes and cowl of hers. I'm rather surprised I had never met her at a ball before, as she claims to be a scion of House Winterlight."

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((eep, someone looked at it! *blows dust off* :D added her real theme song - i give up on finding video of it except one horrid outdoor one i can't stand :( - and labelled nsfw video as such, also rewrote her weapons section. all I can think of for now. :)))

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Demons are generally looked upon with disgust, and unfortunately that sentiment passes to those who call on them in battle. But the arcanist here, she has proven herself a capable and cordial elfmaid. To have chosen the path she walks, it takes an understanding of who and what she really is, and a comfort level with what she found few seldom possess. She is sure of herself and willing to present it, unabashed in her expertise.

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Having located the Marquess for a brief interview on the topic of the Baroness Winterlight, the reporter finds his target to be uncharacteristically pleasant.

"Aphraelle Winterlight is truly an object of exception within our culture. It happens that so many of our own, we Sin'dorei," He narrows his eyes, "- originally Quel'dorei, that's for the record - have, in my view, degraded themselves so far as to compare closely to the rest of this helling alliance. The 'Horde.'" Following Lysimachus into the foyer of Dynastus Hall, the reporter remains silent. "If I were to, say, have a DINNER party with her, I should expect it would be a rather covetous affair! That is, of course, many of high standing would very much enjoy to be present amongst such polite society."

The Marquess collects his overcoat and motions for an attendant, the reporter noting this one as the magister Nevitt Autumnburst, to join him.

"We shall be going now, and you are to leave. But, in the event that you require further inquiry concerning Lady Winterlight, I should be very much obliged to offer it."

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*The Arcanist sat quietly in his study. A small glowing crystal proving the only illumination to the room as he wrote in his small black journal. His attention was diverted by a lard rapping at the only door to the room. With a heavy sigh he rose from his seat. His dark grey robes nearly dragging against the floor as he went to the door. Opening it but a crack as he peered out.

"Hmm?" he inquired, seeing on of the other resident of his tower's apprentice. The young trainee bowed quickly to Alacardia

"Sorry for the interruption Master Alacardia. But this goblin would like a word." the apprentice motioned with his hand to the smaller figure to his left. Standing barely up to the man's waist. The goblin's face was hidden by a clipboard. The mage thought a moment, opening his door further and letting the creature in.*

Lady Winterlight you say? Hmmm, yes I'm aware of who you speak of. But with the many, although short encounters. I can't tell you a whole lot. She's has always been kind, if not stern with the help. Someone I could see becoming a key figure in many things." Alacardia tapped his chin in thought.

"She always seems to have people by her side..A good quality some would say." he turned back to his desk, waving dismissively "Anything further your just going to have to live with not knowing." he put his full attention back to his book. Not caring about the goblin's fate unless it involved closing the door as he left.

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