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About Amaena

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    Junior Member
  1. Amaena

    Elf Eyes

    There ya go. The BE models in BC do not change from having green eyes despite face setting or skin color. The males don't change at all, while the females have a slight variance in the green. And if you think this is creepy...it is. They're all watching you. They know what you've been doing. And...you should be ashamed of yourself. >_>
  2. amg photoshop shenanigans
  3. Amaena


    *chuckles* She was fun to play with.
  4. Amaena


    *smirks* He's never boring.
  5. Amaena


    Full Name: Amaena Nicknames: None Date of Birth: Winter Age: 17 Race: Human Gender: Female Hair: Strawberry blonde Skin: Pale Eyes: Green Height: Average Weight: Average Place of residence: Stormwind Place of Birth: Andorhal Known Relatives: Deceased Religion/Philosophy: Stupidity deserves severe punishment. Occupation: Rogue for SI:7, assistant to Conidivh Group/Guild affiliation: Alliance Guild Rank: None Enemies: Unknown Likes: Fighting, killing, inflicting pain or torture Weapons of Choice: Daggers Dislikes: Stupidity, inaction Physical Features: Her hair is cut short to keep out of her eyes while still retaining a touch of femininity. Her ears are adorned with many piercings. Her face is usually either completely impassive or touched by cruel amusement. History: If any lived in Andorhal before the ravagings of the plague, they might remember a small family with a quiet little girl. The mother died while bearing her, and the father and brother that remained treated the girl poorly, to the point of practically beating her in the streets. She still steadfastly followed them. She disappeared once the plague set in, but her father and brother were both taken by it.
  6. Amaena


    The door to the humble, secluded flat swing open harshly, banging into the wall and making them shudder, the glass lamps clinking in their metal bases. The setting sun's red light shone past the figure in the doorway, who barely gave a passing glance around the room before she strode inside and slammed the door closed with equal force. Amaena tore her gloves off and threw them into the corner as she walked through the room, her worn red mask following them quickly to the same place. She flopped down onto her bed, her feet kicking her boots off once she was settled. It was like this every day since Conidivh died. There was nothing to break the utter monotony of the day to day that Amaena absolutely hated. Sure, there had been that one last stab at Lovely, and it had been fine seeing her broken and finally realizing her place...but ever since then, nothing. She would have expected her Master to contact her at least once, but he had been regretfully silent. So, days passed end on end, each more dull and dreary than the last. Shaw didn't trust her with anything beyond the most menial of tasks, despite her rank with SI:7. The man had an uncanny way of knowing when someone was only faking their loyalty, but since he had no proof, he had to continue treating Amaena like one of his own. She almost wished he would have found something, so that she could be free of this horrid fate. She'd much rather be fleeing for her life from a band of SI:7 assassins than waste her days away spying on nobles or delivering messages. Amaena sighed and reached into her vest, her fingers easily finding the secret pocket situated right above her heart. She grasped the necklace inside and pulled it out, the flat pendant shaking wildly as it came free. She held it up over her face, her eyes locked on the pendant as it swung slower and slower on the fine chain, the ebony surface catching the remaining sunlight. After Conidivh's death, Amaena had commissioned to have a replica of that very necklace crafted to help continue the illusion of Conidivh's - and in turn, Deathwing's - supreme power. The untrained eye saw no difference, but Amaena could easily tell which was from an unrefined dragonkin and which came from the almighty Deathwing. It wasn't entirely necessary for her to have a replica made, as she had the trust of Deathwing, but...for some reason, she was afraid to put it on. She didn't know if she was merely afraid of some form of reprimand, or of overstepping her boundaries. The pendant was entrusted to Conidivh, not her, and even if the boss was dead, she might still not be worthy of wearing such a thing. Amaena closed her eyes, letting her hand fall to her chest, the pendant resting just below her chin. Days of starvation and weariness had caught up with her. She was so close to the Greymane Wall, the last vestige of salvation from this scourge that lapped at her heels, but fatigue had overcome her. She laid still, crumpled in a heap at the base of a tree, dirty blonde hair covering her vision. Just how long had it been? How long since she'd escaped? How long since...that? She tried not to think of "that" too much. If she tried to remember "that", it would only scare her even more. A rustle of leaves that sounded like footsteps near her caused her eyes to open sharply. There were many dangers in this forsaken forest, and it seemed all knew of where she was and what she meant to them. A few coin on the slave trade...or perhaps even a few nights of meals. She knew she had to keep moving, but even as she tried to struggle to her feet, her legs gave way and she collapsed back to the ground, her face in the mud. It was all she could do to keep from crying in frustration and despair. The footsteps stopped before her, and a low voice wafted to her ears. "Child...you look hungry." Her eyes snapped open again and she looked up at the figure. She could tell it was a human male, but most of him was shrouded in a large black cloak and hood. He looked down on her with one visible eye, black hair lining the edge of his visible, hawklike features. From within the folds of his cloak, a hand appeared, offering a large red apple down to her. With strength and speed she didn't know she had, she snatched out at the offered food, but he was faster than her. He pulled it just out of her reach, and tsked. "No food until you tell me your name, little one." A surprisingly animalistic growl sounded in her throat as she bared her teeth, and she leaped at him again, her hands clamping on his as her teeth found purchase in the meaty part of his thumb. She bit hard and didn't let go until he dropped the apple at their feet. Ignoring the blood on her lips, she greedily plucked the apple from the ground and began to devour it, the juice mingling with the blood to run down her chin. The man merely chuckled at her and pulled his hand back within his cloak. "You will do well for me, little one. You don't possess the right power I need...but you will serve your purpose." He knelt beside her as she finished the fruit, the same hand, now uninjured, resting on her head. She turned to look up at him as if she just realized he was there. "You will be my servant from this day forward." She smiled up at him. Amaena sat straight up out of bed, her legs swinging over the side in one swift motion, the necklace falling to the floor at her feet. She stared down at it, then set her lips in a firm line. Her Master still had use for her, or else she wouldn't still be here. She had to get in touch with him, somehow. With a confidence she still didn't completely feel, Amaena reached down for the necklace and pulled it over her head. The moment she released the chain to rest around her neck, a strong voice sounded in her mind. "Amaena...I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me." "N-no, my Master...I was just...unsure on what to do..." She heard a chuckle. "I'll forgive your hesitance this once, since you've served me faithfully for these years. There are more pressing matters that you must attend to." "Anything, my Master." Amaena gasped as her right arm moved on its own, the hand raising up into her vision. She began to mumble words she'd never heard before, in a voice not entirely her own. Energies she'd never tapped into coursed through her veins and welled in her hand, congealing into a small shining globe of power. Amaena stared in awe as Deathwing himself channeled a scrying spell through her. The awe in the spell quickly changed to something completely different as Deathwing showed her a vision through the spell. "Now you see...you have been called to your task once again." A malicious grin slowly split Amaena's features. The scrying spell dissipated in a cloud of white energies and Deathwing's voice fell silent, but Amaena was already preparing. Things were going to get rather interesting...and Amaena couldn't wait.
  7. ((Sorry this took so long, Lovely...having your long-distance boyfriend in for a week sort of distracts you. ; )) It had been many days since Amaena had walked down these steps. She brushed past guards that stared straight ahead. In all the preparations of the homecoming that was quickly approaching, Amaena had all but forgotten her little captive. From the shadows of the doorway, Amaena quietly observed the scene she found. The straps that held the wayward paladin to the table were worn, obviously from struggle. The metallic device still whirred in place, powered by the seemingly limitless energy supply of goblin fuel the little gnome had put into it. The paladin's skin was even more pale than she had remembered, with wide red marks where the straps still securely fastened her to the table. Her hair was tousled and tangled. The bath Amaena had given her appeared to be the last good one she'd had, and she'd simply received splashes of water since then. As Amaena watched, the paladin stirred and raised her head. Her eyes looked about her blearily, and her limbs struggled weakly against the bonds. One of the two guards on the opposite side of the room looked up when she awoke and watched her intently. No one had been made aware of Amaena's presence, so she clung to the shadows a bit more, watching the events unfold. The paladin moaned and writhed against her bonds, her eyes and the guard's gaze meeting. She grasped her hand toward him, her back arching slightly. The guard took a long look over her nude body, his approval quite apparent. He took a step forward-- --and his head snapped back, the gunshot echoing loudly through the catacombs. The other guard jumped, looked down at his dead companion, then looked toward the doorway. Amaena slipped the small blunderbuss back into its holster, and she motioned for one of the guards on the level above. "Get rid of the body, and take his post." She looked back at the guard still in Lovely's room. "You at least knew better." The rogue smiled at the paladin, who now looked at her with wide eyes. "And you should as well. Don't worry...your struggle will soon be over." Amaena turned and started up the steps again, ignoring whatever response Lovely had for her. She was nothing more than a tool at this point, and tools did not require personal attention.
  8. Amaena looked about the corner of Stormwind she was currently standing in, nestled back in the smoky Dwarven District. She looked down at the gnome sitting behind a bench, small fingers working expertly over screws and cogs and whatever else engineers found such pleasure from. The pink pig-tailed gnome hummed happily while she turned a last screw, then slipped the casing onto the entire device and shined it with a rag. "Here ya go," she chirped happily, handing the device up for Amaena's inspection. The human gave it a passing look, then smiled and handed it back. The gnome cheerfully put the device in a box and wrapped it with cord. As she handed the box to Amaena, a confused look passed over her smudged face. "By th' way, what're those for, anyway? That's the second one I've made so far...and Gally, he only told me they were for sore muscles!" Amaena smiled as she took the package. "That's exactly what they're for, little Pepperine. Don't concern yourself on it any more than that." The gnome shrugged. "'Kay, have fun then! Break a chair!" Amaena raised an eyebrow, then decided that must be some strange gnomish vernacular and left it alone. As she turned from the engineer to walk away, a man in black approached her. "It's done." Amaena gave him a sidelong glance. "Then you know what to do." The man nodded and disappeared. She allowed herself a smile. Things were already looking up.
  9. Amaena


    Lovely, I trust this letter finds you in good health. I would be sorrowful to find otherwise. Normally, I would not even deign your missive with a response. However, I find so many glaring mistakes in it that I am forced to clear the air. This is perhaps something my boss would not have done, but I don't work exactly like my boss, do I? One, I do not need to know you better. I know you well enough. While my boss was dealing with matters elsewhere, I was charged with watching your every movement. That's right. Every one of them. I have plenty of reasons to dislike you, as you have disgusted me to my very core. The way you use people to meet your own needs and toss them aside is revolting. How many men have you declared your undying devotion to, only to toss them aside once a new slice of man walks by? Or woman, for that matter. How many hearts do you intend to break in your self-serving quest for "happiness"? And two, threatening me does precious little good. As with my boss, slaying me will do nothing in the grand scheme of things. Though, you need not worry about any all-encompassing plots against you. In fact, you are farthest from my mind. Your usefulness has been spent up. I'm leaving you as the husk my boss deemed fit to leave you. Do you know why I am content with this? Because I know that this punishment was swift and precise. However, the finality of it was not levied on you by him...oh no, dearest Lovely, my precious corrupted paladin. Your hand is to blame for that. With the death of Conidivh, and the subsequent destruction of his body, there is no hope of you for a cure. Let me put that simply. You. Are. Through. The blood that flowed through my boss's veins held the only key to your salvation, and you spilled it carelessly on the stones of that dark basement. You might find temporary relief in the arms of another brazen alchemist, but there is simply no solid cure. The pain may subside...for a time...and then return to remind you of your indiscretions. I could take the letter you've given me to the proper authorities. I will not, however. The stockades is unnecessary when the world is your prison. Be well, Lovely. -A
  10. ((waaah, you people made me make ANOTHER account...meh...oh well...it's fun to be evil. :twisted: )) She truly had been having a most wonderful vacation. After tromping through muggy jungles and dry deserts and having to endure that same putrid smell and that same disgusting sight, Amaena could think of no better thing to do with her time than pickle her liver in the Pig and Whistle every single day until the wine she drank washed away every memory she had of that worthless, wretched paladin. Her temper and patience were much shorter than her boss's, and the paladin's seeming complete inability to accomplish even the most simple of tasks set before her was maddening. Only the fear of her boss's punishment for disobeying his orders stayed her hand those many times she thought of creeping up on Lovely's prone, sleeping form and simply slitting her throat. Amaena took a deep breath as she walked to the Pig and Whistle. Thinking of that wretched woman made Amaena's blood boil, and the last thing she needed to do was lose control. Instead, she turned her thoughts away, wondering what was happening while she was out of touch. She'd received the package from her boss a few days prior, containing a rather cryptic note and her boss's journal. It had proven to be very fascinating reading. Though she knew Conidivh could handle himself, she couldn't help but be somewhat concerned for him. She knew if he died it meant little in the grand scheme of things, the same for her...but he was her boss. How could she not care if he died or not? Though...if he was dead, wouldn't that be exciting? Amaena permitted herself a grin. Oh, what would happen from that... As Amaena entered the tavern, she noticed immediately the number of milling guards and worried tavern help. She approached one, a timid looking girl that held a handful of her white apron in a deathgrip. She leaned close and whispered. "What's going on here?" The girl looked up at Amaena, her eyes brimming with tears. "Oh...it's so terrible...someone murdered an old man in the basement. They say it might have been...might have been..." She hiccuped. "Might have been a priest...or a paladin, even!" "A priest or paladin? Why?" Amaena's interest was piqued. It took all her control to not let her excitement show beyond her eyes. The tavern girl wiped an eye as she looked back toward the door. "They said he had magical burns on his body...and they were made with holy magic..." Good...good... Amaena feigned a shocked gasp. "Wait...an old man? Did he have hair about this long--" She motioned with her hands at her shoulders. "--and wore all black?" The tavern girl looked back up at her, surprised. "Y-yes...do you...know who he is?" "Oh no!" Amaena's hands went to her chest. "No...my...my father!" She rushed forward, trying to pull away from the guards that barred her from going downstairs. "Please...please...I think that's my father!" The guards looked at each other, confused. One finally said, "Why do you think that?" "He...he went missing this morning...I've been looking for him...he's not well, sir...oh no, if it's him, I don't know what I'll do..." The guard sighed, then started down the stairs. "Come along, then. Let's see if you can identify him." Once Amaena reached the bottom of the stairs, she fell to her knees once she saw the body laying on the stones below. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed greatly. The guard looked up the stairs, then put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you a moment with him, then." The guard went back up the stairs and moved any onlookers away from the doorway to give Amaena privacy. Amaena sniffled and wept as appropriate until she was away from the stairs, and then she simply sighed as she knelt next to Conidivh's still body. "Well...looks like it happened, boss." She allowed herself a moment of mourning, but only one. This wasn't an end, but a beginning. Amaena didn't have to look long to find the one belonging she wanted from his body: a shining black pendant on a chain of silver. She slipped that into her pocket, then went tearfully back up the stairs. ------ One the sun had set, Conidivh's body had been disposed of. It was burned, the ashes properly handled. Amaena knew that's what he'd want done with his body, as it held many secrets in itself...but she couldn't help but secret away a small, tightly corked vial of his blood for later inspection. His secrets were just too interesting. Amaena had met with the corrupted paladin that afternoon, the rain that fell hard in Elwynn seemingly unable to touch the shining streets of Stormwind. She'd found the wretch chasing after that troll-loving rogue, begging to be "let in". Perhaps his pants? Amaena didn't wish to ponder that, lest she be sick on the stones of the Valley of Heroes. Conidivh would probably have frowned on her for doing so, but Amaena wanted to see the paladin herself. She wanted to finally express to her the finality of her situation, how her own rash actions had sealed her fate. Amaena wasn't sure what exactly she suspected, as that same fact had eluded the daft paladin for this long, and the meeting still proved fruitless. A call of a nightbird pulled Amaena from her memories, and she raised the vial filled with thick red liquid to her gaze again. She smirked. What would come next would prove to be most interesting indeed.