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About Cerestal

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  • Birthday 09/06/1991

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  1. "Hey Grathier! They're asking if alts know each other. We should add some-" "Shut up Cerestal. Go away." "What's wrong? Are you still angry about that one time?" "What part of 'shut up' does an idiot like you not understand?!" "... "But it was fun. And you know you broke my cheek as well." "Which I doubt gives you debilitating migraines every now and again." "It was five years ag-" "SHUT THE HELL UP!" *Anavea enters* "Hey guys. Did you see that alt po-" *She takes one look at Grathier, pales and runs screaming from the room* "..." "..." "She looked familiar. I think I slept with her."
  2. As the days went on, the ice at Kel'theril became more and more treacherous, as the goblins at Everlook learned when a prospecting miner fell through early one morning. During the day the sheet broke up and at night reformed. The same pattern now occurred a hundred feet below in Frostwhisper Gorge, where several inches of water coated the floor. The snow became slushy during the day, particularly in the south, partly melting and refreezing over and over. Cerestal had changed his sleep patterns to be up during the day again to see it. While these things weren't uncommon, particularly at the height of summer, it was too early to be overlooked. Today he was at Everlook, watching the bruisers train. He idly kicked at a patch of slushy snow, distracted by it. "Hey!" he heard, rousing him from his distractions. "I ain't payin' ya to kick snow!" "You're not paying me at all." the night elf replied. "And your recovery is too slow. Every swing you just threw could have a shortsword or smaller gutting you before you're ready again." The bruiser grumbled something and the two combatants training began trading swings again. This was one of his hobbies when not training a few select pupils or training himself. That and offer advice with bodybuilding techniques. The goblins loved their beach bodies. "Say." the night elf tried. "Have either of you two noticed the snow." "I ain't got time to think about snow." the other bruiser huffed as he swung. "Time is money and I can't turn a profit looking at that crap all day." Cerestal chuckled and left them to their training. Watching the bruisers was putting him in a fighting mood. Problem was, there was nobody his size and strength left to train with around here. Everlook was shrinking. Between the thorium drying up as well as the local game, many goblins had left for greener pastures. If the town up and died, Cerestal wouldn't miss them. Nobody here would. He decided to head home. But about halfway toward the gate, he was stopped by yet another goblin. "Hey you!" one moved to intercept Cerestal. "You been here long?" "Who's asking?" he challenged. "Woah, woah. I was just gonna ask is all, about the snow. Some people are saying its a hot summer ahead and all this'll melt." "And?" "Well I was askin', has this, y'know, happened before?" Cerestal glanced at the sky. "Sometimes." "Oh, goodie. You think it'll melt then?" "We'll find out, I guess." Cerestal stepped past the goblin and headed home. Once he cleared the walls, he ran. He'd run home, grab his training axe and smash his training dummy into oblivion again. He felt good, though spoiling for a fight.
  3. He noticed the rings as he said his farewells and left the camp. The twin moons were out in full force tonight, so Cerestal didn't even need his night sight to see them. Rings in the snow, where the stunted plants had kept the snow at bay. The sounds of fire, feasting and energetic cubs dwindled behind him as he followed the small valley back home, wrapped in his furs. This was a corner of Winterspring few knew of and fewer ventured into. Up ahead was a hunter - a sentry for the camp he had passed on his way in. Cerestal did the same routine again of stopping and trading a glance with the hunter. The night elf had it easy - his right eye glowed a dull orange instead of amber, which let anybody within twenty paces identify him without much trouble. When the sentry relaxed, he approached. The sentry was scarcely more than an adolescent, as most of the Winterfall's fighting age male furbolgs were now. Most of the adults had been slaughtered with the rest of the tribe over the past decade. Naturally, they kept to far-flung alcoves like this now and trusted strangers even less than before. They only let Cerestal trade with them because they remembered him from before the demons came. "Do you see those rings?" the night elf inquired in Ursine as he approached. The furbolg looked at him questioningly and he pointed at the circles on the valley floor. "Those?" he asked blankly. "What are those?" Cerestal balked at the young hunter. "The snowmelt rings! You've not seen those rings before?" The bear shook his head. Cerestal guessed this one might be even younger than he thought. "...never mind. Asha falah." He set off home, leaving the furbolg to his vigil. He trekked through the inch or so of snow, the rings here and there more obvious now that he was aware of them. It was still early evening and he was eager as usual to get on with his night of training. He thought over the night ahead as he passed through the mouth of the valley and turned west toward home. What strength exercises he would do tonight, what combat practice, etc. His partner Meia was still away on duty so he was free to be nocturnal again. He passed over a ridgeline and was interrupted by the sight of a small basin of water. Had that been there earlier? Of course it would have. He must not have noticed. On his way home, more signs availed themselves to him. He wondered if it would happen this year. He reached his cabin, ate and changed into his training armor (he had no real armor to call his own). When was the last time this had happened? Twenty-five years ago? He counted on his fingers. He was fairly sure the last one was twelve or thirteen years before the demons came. Before the orcs and humans and Everlook. His poor math soon got the better of him and he gave up with a curse. He instead decided on a route for his evening run. He decided he would head far south to the gorge and check on it. He stepped back out feeling excited. Perhaps Winterspring would thaw this summer. "Damn it." he muttered. "If it happens, Meia won't be here to see it." (( I've been wanting to do this for a couple of years now, having Winterspring thaw out for a just-above-freezing summer. It's an entirely natural event and not magic/Old God related. Anybody who has an idea for a mini-plot is free to jump in and post away. Some changes to the landscape you can play around with will include: The north will be a mixture of rocky outcrop and tundra while the south will become greener. More lakes and basins will appear, particularly Frostwhisper Gorge filling up. Kel'Theril melting, revealing that waterfall and a lot of greenery growing around it. Two stories I'll be entertaining on my toons: - New thorium nodes breathing life into the depleted area (and Everlook's economy) after years of overmining and on Winterfall territory. Everlook miners and mercs will clash with the furbolgs and Cerestal. - Ancient Night elf ruins and other things lost to the snow re-emerging. My rogue Anavea will be combing the area for lost knowledge. It'll refreeze around September-ish so there's plenty of time. And I'd rather not create a two-person story by myself over this, so if this draws no interest from anyone, I'll likely let it fade away to oblivion. ))
  4. Cerestal was a modified generated name and in hindsight I'd have chosen one with a few more hard consonants, because a warrior screaming his name in challenge sounds better that way. Same way cursing God is more satisfying than cursing Light. Grathier's full name was merely intended to be as unique as possible, though his intials (Barnaby Francis Grathier) are intentional because Doom and he's a hunter. Barnaby eventually became my go-to name (and appearance) for most RPGs involving a gun or bow character. Anavea was a struggle to find an elf-ish name that wasn't bloody taken, and her surname Dusksinger is a screw-you to every evil elf that uses Dusk- in their name because they're evil. A beautiful red sunset (her hair is red) means good weather ahead. Thaldis is random. He was a minor character in one of my old Cerestal stories and I never intended to have him in-game.
  5. Sup das peeps. First off, http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13468076742 I wrote this a couple of years ago (doing the whole 'ogodwhy' rereading it myself) as something of an RP guide for Alliance soldiers. I'm considering redoing it slightly more in-depth, with needed corrections and updated for WoD here on TNG. Most likely in thread format, and perhaps create a place for discussion on the topic. But being the flighty, shadowmeld-y person I am, would like to tentatively gauge any enthusiasm (or lack of) before I commit to anything. Sound like a good idea to anybody? Cheers.
  6. Full Name: Cerestal Falah'serrar Nicknames: Falsar - a bastardisation of his surname Date of Birth: Unknown - early Autumn-ish Age: Unknown Race: Night elf Gender: Male Hair: Blue Skin: Purple Eyes: Amber (left), Orange (right) Height: 7' 1" Weight: > 300lb Place of residence: Winterspring Place of Birth: Ashenvale Known Relatives: None. Unknown parents. Religion/Philosophy: Warrior Occupation: Also warrior Group/Guild affiliation: None Guild Rank: N/A Enemies: The one trading blows with him. Otherwise usually impartial, though he dislikes Forsaken. Also demons - the old enemy. Likes: Fighting, training to fight, his girlfriend, fellow warriors. Favorite Foods: Steak Favorite Drinks: Mead or wine Favorite Colors: Blue Weapons of Choice: Various Dislikes: Archers. Anybody who fights cold-blooded or doesn't fight fair ie rogues. Hobbies: Fighting, sparring, training, building muscle, reading poetry (epics about heroic fights). Physical Features: After years living in the cold permafrost, Cerestal's face is lined and weathered. His midnight blue hair falls past his shoulders and he keeps a long beard. His right eye is a dull orange due to an old injury, giving him a mismatched stare. He is incredibly strong and physically powerful, rivalling a tauren warrior in strength. Special Abilities: Close-quarter fighting. He has a natural affinity for melee weapons of all kinds, especially anything that plays to his raw strength. Positive Personality Traits: Friendly, loyal, polite around women Negative Personality Traits: Slow learner, trusting, prideful, violent when angered, socially awkward at times Misc. Quirks: Introverted, often simple-minded with views and easily confused by rhetoric. History: Cerestal Falah'serrar was born a warrior. His early childhood was spent a misfit, fighting other children and rebelling against his parents. His father was rarely around, a druid who slept in the Emerald Dream and his mother made salves, poultices and other remedies. He was pressed into druid training but quickly dropped out. As soon as he hit adolescence he stole a sword and ran away, eventually finding his way to Winterspring. He grew up a nomad, hunting, fishing, trading with the furbolgs and training to be a warrior, sometimes trading hospitality for combat with Sentinels. The immortal mindset of a night elf granted him immeasurable patience, spending hundreds of years training, sparring and hunting. After quite some time (About thirty furbolg generations is his closest guess), the Demons arrived and the Third War began for him. Cerestal's moment had arrived. He helped the Sentinels and Winterfall furbolgs fight the Burning Legion in Winterspring, scoring his first kill in single combat against a fearsome wrathguard. He accompanied the night elves to Mount Hyjal and battled the Legion there. He joined the Alliance shortly afterwards, travelling around Azeroth over the years, including six gruelling months in Alterac Valley, twelve in Wintergrasp, six in Tol Barad and attaining the rank of Sergeant. He suddenly quit soldiering (presumed dead) and vanished for over a year, before resurfacing back home in Winterspring. He rejoined the Alliance in the Draenor Campaign, fighting for twelve months and returning home again. He currently resides in Winterspring.