Kumai

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  1. Kumai and Qabian sit across from each other at a small table. In front of her is a crude map of the Shadowlands, drawn by herself, as best a representation as she could manage for something that is at its essence metaphysical, some blobs, lines between them, marked with angel wings, a swirly tree, a skull, three other blobs unmarked. To her left are two piles of ash, one dark, one light. Her fingers play idly in the dark pile. To her right is a length of paper with a tiny quill on it. Magic shimmers over the quill now and then, but for the moment, it lies still on the page. Her face looks draw
  2. Kumai tosses and turns before giving up on sleep entirely and going to write a letter. - Do not come here. If the Death Knights ask you for help, tell them to leave you alone, then run as far and as fast as you can. What they are going to ask of you will torment you with your memories. I have a fraction of the memories you do and am struggling. This will tear you to shreds. Run. ~K
  3. Kumai flopped herself down in the mountain of pink and lavender pillows she had carefully curated in her room in Razor Hill and stared up at the ceiling carved out of the stone of the cliff. In his haste to get things arranged for the fast approaching disaster in Icecrown, Qabian had thought to send her a note, asking if her new people knew what was going on, describing what he had learned, what the Death Knights were saying happened to the Lich King, and urging her to prepare. In a sense, she knew more than he did, because she had actively offered to help the Argent Crusade and had been there
  4. Kumai stood on a perch overlooking Mord'rethar: The Death Gate with a deep frown etched into her face. She was used to cultists. She had spent enough time with the Hammer to have a certain familiarity with the nihilism that might convince one to put their efforts into bringing about the end times. The past echoed in her mind as she watched the agents of the Scourge going about their work. Add your Voice to our glorious chorus, for it is the song that will end the world. But this cult was different. It had a fascination with bodies that she was not used to. The Hammer liked to play wi
  5. Kumai kneels at the edge and trails her fingers in the lava, her arm flickering with fire magic as she does. She avoids coming back here in the waking world, but in her dreams, she finds herself here more often than not. The lava hisses and bubbles as it slowly moves, and for those who know how to listen, a voice can be heard. "Come. Come home," the lava whispers. "Pass," Kumai says in a voice she only hears in her sleep, a voice that hurts to hear between her ears. Usually in these dreams, she speaks with fire as she used to, before she realized she was speaking to herself. The drea
  6. Kumai had made herself something of a nest in her room in Razor Hill, a garish one, but that leaned more to the pastels than some of Ninorra's other dramatic decorating choices. The orc mage wrapped herself in a plush zhevra-print blanket made out of something unnatural, too soft, with a sheen that caught the flickering lamplight, definitely not actual zhevra, and sat down at her little table with a new sparkling pink quill and a few pieces of lemon scented paper with a floral pattern in the corners to write a letter. - He has forgotten me. It seemed important to tell you. Was it ac
  7. Sarah ran ahead, her armor clanking. Everyone was in good cheer. She was covered in blood, but none of it was hers. Daniel had made sure of that. They were deep in the depths of Blackrock's spires, clearing the place of cultists and ogres for honor and profit. Even the usually morose Oliver seemed to walk with a lighter step. Sarah suddenly put up her hand in warning and a finger to her lips to urge silence. Terand crouched low and moved to the shadows to scout ahead. A clear chanting harmony floated through the stone passage toward them and the party hugged the wall as they advanced slow
  8. Kumai

    Kumai

    Full Name: Kumai Race: Orc Gender: Female Hair: Long, henna colored. Eyes: Light brown Height: A little on the short side Weight: A little on the round side. Notable Physical Features: A massive burn scar covers most of the left side of her body, including most of her neck down to her hips, though it is usually only visible if intentionally uncovered by clothing She refuses to speak, though whether she actually can or not is debatable, and instead either creates images with ash and heat or signs with her hands Place of Residence: Dalaran Place of Birth: Nagrand Known Relatives: None
  9. Kumai placed the small pile of books on the plain wooden table she set up in her new room in Sanctuary's Razor Hill quarters. She frowned as she pulled a sheaf of blank papers from inside the cover of one of the books. She was doing her best and didn't regret the decision she had made, but she questioned herself, her capacity, her correctness, as people do. She was a quiet person. She made it seem as though this was forced on her, but in truth, it was by choice. It was all by choice. She had been given a voice on a few occasions since the original loss, and technically, she still had the las