app @ tlv + demeleier

[frostheart]

User Name/Nick: Aiden
User DW: aiden
AIM/IM: mischieving
E-mail: chippegan@gmail.com
Other Characters: nada!

Character Name: Koltira Deathweaver
Series: World of Warcraft
Age: Unknown, but by elf standards, at least, Koltira is an adult, and of average age. Likely anywhere from 200-400 years old, give or take.
From When?: Just after the battle for Andorhal, when Sylvanas hooks him into the Undercity to 'purge' him of his weakness for Thassarian.

Inmate/Warden: Koltira at first seems an unlikely choice for a warden, given his relative neutrality. He is by no means a bad guy, but he's also not terribly amiable, and he generally wouldn't have much interest in helping others, especially when there is no benefit in it for him. And yet, for all of his outward coldness, Koltira in many ways wants only to belong to a place, to a thing, to a cause, and in time I think he would develop well into this position, and find concern for his inmate in unlikely places and unlikely ways. Perhaps in some way he can make up for his own past - and the slave that he once was - in helping another find their own redemption.

Item: INSIGNIA OF THE SCOURGEEE, a trinket that he once received as a death knight, and still holds on to.

Abilities/Powers: Welp, as a DK, Koltira has access to a long list of abilities, so i'll just drop this here, rather than list them all off! Koltira is a strong melee fighter, and wields a large two-handed runesword (affectionately called Byfrost), but he's also capable of using a few ice and unholy based ranged spells. He has access to a range of abilities by the use of empowered runes, and the dark scourge magic that animates him, and dwells within him still, and as such he's capable of inflicting crippling diseases upon his targets, freezing them, and visiting upon them other such terrifying and excruciating pains.

His dulled sense of touch can also be considered a strength, alongside his tolerance for pain - it's difficult to take down an enemy who can stand up to a severe punishment with little effect. Death knights able able to freeze their very own blood to protect themselves.

Koltira's heritage as an elf also provides him with a few unique abilities as well - he's swift, light-footed and dextrous, despite the heavy armor he wears, and he's proficient with a bow as well. Aside from the common tongue, he can also speak his native elfin tongue, Thalassian, as well as Orcish, and the dark language of the dead.

Personality:

Before he became a death knight, Koltira was, unsurprisingly, rather a different man, but many of his characteristics carried over into undeath. He's quick-witted and cynical, no-nonsense and very to-the-point. Being a zombie sort of does that to you.

Maybe I should explain. Before his undeath, Koltira was a high elf living in Quel'thelas, surrounded by family and friends. He was, for all intents and purposes, very happy. Content with life, fiercely proud of his people and his homeland, Koltira spent most of his time training and haranguing his younger brother, Faltora, while attending banquets, and guarding the temple of An'owyn. With war brewing in the Eastern Kingdoms, and the ever growing threat of the scourge, he thought it best to prepare himself for what may have come.

But none in Quel'thelas could have been prepared for what happened that day. Betrayed by one of their own, the impregnable Elfgates were cracked and breached, and the undead scourge swept across the land, cutting a dead swath of rot and plague through their beautiful golden forest, leaving only destruction in their wake as the undead, lead by the traitor human prince, Arthas, tore into Silvermoon city and made for the Sunwell -- an ancient font of incredible arcane power. The Sunwell, which was the source of his people's power, and had sustained them for nigh unto ten thousand years, was corrupted and tainted when Arthas used it to resurrect one of the foul underlings of the Lich King, and therein left Silvermoon, and much of Quel'Thelas, in panic, disarray and complete devastation. Nearly all of the high elven race was obliterated in this brutal attack.

During the attack, Koltira's brother was confronted, and subsequently released, by a humandeath knight named Thassarian, but was quickly killed by an abomination, much to Koltira's shock and horror. Sensing a weakness in the death knight, Koltira followed and confronted him several times during the course of the invasion, but eventually lost his life to Thassarian's superior scourge powers. But unable to peacefully embrace death, Koltira was soon raised as a death knight as well, and he continues to live on now, in undeath.

Obviously, as anyone could assume, this would put a bit of a damper on most anyone's personality. He keeps his wit and cynicism, but Koltira grows very cold. All the warmth within him was sucked away with his life, though he does display a certain fondness for Thassarian, despite the fact that he lost his life at his hands. Koltira thinks of his past self as an entirely different person, as if that life belonged to some other, and it has little bearing on his choices. As a death knight, he lives only for battle. He thirsts for war, and grows uneasy during times of peace -- not because he wishes pain on others, but because it is all that he knows now; he is not a person, he is a weapon, and nothing more. Even after the Battle for Light's Hope, when the Lich King's grip on him was severed and the Knights of the Ebon Blade were formed, he thinks only of the next battle, and of the final war -- and bringing down the Lich King. But this is not an uncommon feeling for a death knight. They were created for battle, and they were the scourge's finest weapons, quick and intelligent, powerful and capable, every one of them, with a dulled vigor for life and a gnawing thirst for blood. After the fall of the Lich King, Koltira felt lost, as if he had no other purpose but to fight, and so he joined the Horde (and more specifically, the Forsaken), to serve beneath Sylvanas Windrunner. He seeks, more than almost anything, a sense of belonging that he cannot ever hope to find. Instead of returning to Quel'Thalas, and what remains of his living kin, Koltira chooses instead to lurk around Angmar's Hammer and the Undercity, the home of the Forsaken undead, and their dark lady. This may be due in part to his loyalty to Sylvanas herself, who would have been his direct commander during the scourge invasion; it may also be in part that, for as much as he loves and misses his home with burning keenness, he feels he can no longer relate with it, or its people. He feels as if he cannot be accepted, as if he cannot belong, and his loyalty to the Horde is shaky, at best.

Also, simply being a death knight is suffering. Literally. They're in an almost constant state of pain, the point driven home so deeply that, when speaking to one another, death knights greet each other with the phrase "Suffer well", and the only way to briefly alleviate it is to fight, to kill, to bring pain upon others. Koltira tolerates it, however, as all death knights do, and he even embraces it, in a way. His other senses are dulled, numb, and pain is just about the only thing he can feel aside from rage and cold and bloodlust - to some degree I feel he also believes that he deserves it, for the atrocities he committed while under the Lich King's spell. His vision and hearing are sharp -- for what use would deaf and blind soldiers be? -- but his senses of taste, smell and touch are dull, almost nonexistent. He does not eat, because he does not need to eat, and even breathing is an optional function. He's only half alive, or half dead, or some strange mixture of both. Either way, he is cold and ruthless, unapproachable and prone to violence when provoked.

But he is also patient, and obedient. Koltira has firm control over his bloodlust, and he does not kill needlessly, or for sport. He is a good soldier, but also possesses decent enough leadership qualities -- he was a capable sub-commander for the Lich King, beneath Highlord Darion Mograine, and he was later given the command over the battle of Andorhal, where he was pitted against his old comrade, Thassarian (who had joined the Alliance, and therefore become an enemy). He likes to think that he is heartless, but his cold, black, unbeating heart isn't painted so cold and black as he'd have others (and himself) believe. His attachment to Thassarian stays his hand in Andorhol when he would have otherwise torn vigorously into the occupying Alliance forces, and he will begrudgingly hand out praise to those who serve him well. He doesn't make attachments easily (and he doesn't wish to), and he will certainly never go out of his way to forge friendships or camaraderie, but perhaps a touch of the warm, mischievous high elf remains deep within him, however difficult it is to draw it out.

So in closing, Koltira is a cold bastard, but he is not cruel. He's withdrawn, unfriendly, and even hostile sometimes, but more often than not he simply does not waste his time with people. As far as he's concerned, his true life is over, and the ideals of friendship and love and vigorous lust for life are better left to the living. He's certainly not the type to go out of his way to strike up friendly conversation, but he'll probably step in to save the life of a stranger, and he will happily pledge his blade to a master he deems worthy. Basically, this guy is a wet blanket most all of the time, but his wit and cunning are sharp, so it's better to make an ally of him than an enemy.

Barge Reactions: Koltira is a pretty stoic guy, and it takes a decent amount to faze him, so I imagine he'll take most strange events in relative, begrudging stride. Much of it might have him rolling his eyes, but he's a soldier, and therefore highly adaptable to strange and sudden situations. He probably won't enjoy floods or breaches or anything of the sort, but he'll keep it together.

As for the barge as a whole, he'll likely be offput at first, and he probably won't enjoy being assigned to something against his will (bad memories and all that), but considering his canon point, and the alternative.. well, he won't really be complaining too much. He's accustomed to following orders, and moving from place to place, as needed, so he'll settle in easily enough. As far as other characters and fandoms are concerned - he'll probably dislike all of them. But that's hardly different from the norm. Until his trust and respect is earned and gained, Koltira treats mostly everyone (who isn't a superior officer) with cold disdain, but he's generally accustomed to being approached.

History: Many thanks to Wowwiki!

Sample Journal Entry:

[ voice, to his inmate; ]

You. We may not have a close relationship, you and I - and you can gladly note that I highly doubt we ever shall - but let's get one thing straight. If you ever, and I repeat - ever - see fit to pull such a stunt again..

I'll just say, you shall find Byfrost's kiss is sharp and cold and none too sweet. I suggest against incurring her wrath. We are in this together, you and I, whether or not we like it, and so I think it best that we learn to work together.

By which I mean you will do as I say, and if you put so much as a toe out of line again I shall sever it from your foot. Are we clear?


Sample RP:

What have I gotten myself into.

Koltira had not chosen to come to this place, but all things considered, choice was not a thing that he was generally accustomed to being given in the first place. For as long as he could remember he had been a soldier, always reporting to this person or that, always the subordinate of someone, and that was all right, he didn't mind taking direction. He was good at what he did, and so long as his commanding officers were intelligent and confident, Koltira was content to be led. That had all changed, of course, after his death. Arthas, and later Sylvanas - and now this.. Koltira felt like a child's toy, yanked carelessly about between selfish masters, never given a choice of his own, never given a will.

This place was no different. He had not asked to be brought here, he had not volunteered for this, and yet here he was, at the mercy of yet another master, given a subordinate of his own to care for, to look after and mold and shape, to rehabilitate. Such a responsibility was daunting, and Koltira could not help but .. doubt himself. He hardly had it in him to keep himself afloat; how could anyone possibly think that he could have been of help to anyone else? And worse - to someone in need? Koltira had not thought himself capable of such a thing. Clearly the Admiral thought differently.

Breathing a cold sigh, Koltira paced ceaselessly along the deck, his plate boots ringing in heavy footfalls as he stalked and skulked and everything in between, while his pale, luminescent eyes looked out over the surrounding blanket of stars as if the answer he sought was somewhere within them, waiting to be found, if only he could stare hard enough.

But it wasn't, of course, and the stars remained silent, keeping their counsel, and Koltira remained hopelessly adrift, and endlessly frustrated. "One foot before the other," he muttered to himself in a low, echoing voice, his gaze shifting to the deck before him, to his own strong footfalls. To find a place on Azeroth, to find a place here.. how could he ever hope to achieve such a thing?

Special Notes: idk he's a grumpypants.





Player Name: Aiden
Player DW: aiden
Contact: aim: mischieving, plurk: owlcoholic
Character Number: 1 (Aethan Sunstriker)

Character: Koltira Deathweaver
Fandom: Wold of Warcraft
History: Here we are!

Timeline: Most recent canon - after being captured by Sylvanas and transported to the Undercity for happy days and certain torture.

Personality:

Before he became a death knight, Koltira was, unsurprisingly, rather a different man, but many of his characteristics carried over into undeath. He's quick-witted and cynical, no-nonsense and very to-the-point. Being a zombie sort of does that to you.

Maybe I should explain. Before his undeath, Koltira was a high elf living in Quel'thelas, surrounded by family and friends. He was, for all intents and purposes, very happy. Content with life, fiercely proud of his people and his homeland, Koltira spent most of his time training and haranguing his younger brother, Faltora, while attending banquets, and guarding the temple of An'owyn. With war brewing in the Eastern Kingdoms, and the ever growing threat of the scourge, he thought it best to prepare himself for what may have come.

But none in Quel'thelas could have been prepared for what happened that day. Betrayed by one of their own, the impregnable Elfgates were cracked and breached, and the undead scourge swept across the land, cutting a dead swath of rot and plague through their beautiful golden forest, leaving only destruction in their wake as the undead, lead by the traitor human prince, Arthas, tore into Silvermoon city and made for the Sunwell -- an ancient font of incredible arcane power. The Sunwell, which was the source of his people's power, and had sustained them for nigh unto ten thousand years, was corrupted and tainted when Arthas used it to resurrect one of the foul underlings of the Lich King, and therein left Silvermoon, and much of Quel'Thelas, in panic, disarray and complete devastation. Nearly all of the high elven race was obliterated in this brutal attack.

During the attack, Koltira's brother was confronted, and subsequently released, by a humandeath knight named Thassarian, but was quickly killed by anabomination, much to Koltira's shock and horror. Sensing a weakness in the death knight, Koltira followed and confronted him several times during the course of the invasion, but eventually lost his life to Thassarian's superior scourge powers. But unable to peacefully embrace death, Koltira was soon raised as a death knight as well, and he continues to live on now, in undeath.

Obviously, as anyone could assume, this would put a bit of a damper on most anyone's personality. He keeps his wit and cynicism, but Koltira grows very cold. All the warmth within him was sucked away with his life, though he does display a certain fondness for Thassarian, despite the fact that he lost his life at his hands. Koltira thinks of his past self as an entirely different person, as if that life belonged to some other, and it has little bearing on his choices. As a death knight, he lives only for battle. He thirsts for war, and grows uneasy during times of peace -- not because he wishes pain on others, but because it is all that he knows now; he is not a person, he is a weapon, and nothing more. Even after the Battle for Light's Hope, when the Lich King's grip on him was severed and the Knights of the Ebon Blade were formed, he thinks only of the next battle, and of the final war -- and bringing down the Lich King. But this is not an uncommon feeling for a death knight. They were created for battle, and they were the scourge's finest weapons, quick and intelligent, powerful and capable, every one of them, with a dulled vigor for life and a gnawing thirst for blood. After the fall of the Lich King, Koltira felt lost, as if he had no other purpose but to fight, and so he joined the Horde (and more specifically, the Forsaken), to serve beneath Sylvanas Windrunner. He seeks, more than almost anything, a sense of belonging that he cannot ever hope to find. Instead of returning to Quel'Thalas, and what remains of his living kin, Koltira chooses instead to lurk around Angmar's Hammer and the Undercity, the home of the Forsaken undead, and their dark lady. This may be due in part to his loyalty to Sylvanas herself, who would have been his direct commander during the scourge invasion; it may also be in part that, for as much as he loves and misses his home with burning keenness, he feels he can no longer relate with it, or its people. He feels as if he cannot be accepted, as if he cannot belong, and his loyalty to the Horde is shaky, at best.

Also, simply being a death knight is suffering. Literally. They're in an almost constant state of pain, the point driven home so deeply that, when speaking to one another, death knights greet each other with the phrase "Suffer well", and the only way to briefly alleviate it is to fight, to kill, to bring pain upon others. Koltira tolerates it, however, as all death knights do, and he even embraces it, in a way. His other senses are dulled, numb, and pain is just about the only thing he can feel aside from rage and cold and bloodlust - to some degree I feel he also believes that he deserves it, for the atrocities he committed while under the Lich King's spell. His vision and hearing are sharp -- for what use would deaf and blind soldiers be? -- but his senses of taste, smell and touch are dull, almost nonexistent. He does not eat, because he does not need to eat, and even breathing is an optional function. He's only half alive, or half dead, or some strange mixture of both. Either way, he is cold and ruthless, unapproachable and prone to violence when provoked.

But he is also patient, and obedient. Koltira has firm control over his bloodlust, and he does not kill needlessly, or for sport. He is a good soldier, but also possesses decent enough leadership qualities -- he was a capable sub-commander for the Lich King, beneath Highlord Darion Mograine, and he was later given the command over the battle of Andorhal, where he was pitted against his old comrade, Thassarian (who had joined the Alliance, and therefore become an enemy). He likes to think that he is heartless, but his cold, black, unbeating heart isn't painted so cold and black as he'd have others (and himself) believe. His attachment to Thassarian stays his hand in Andorhol when he would have otherwise torn vigorously into the occupying Alliance forces, and he will begrudgingly hand out praise to those who serve him well. He doesn't make attachments easily (and he doesn't wish to), and he will certainly never go out of his way to forge friendships or camaraderie, but perhaps a touch of the warm, mischievous high elf remains deep within him, however difficult it is to draw it out.

So in closing, Koltira is a cold bastard, but he is not cruel. He's withdrawn, unfriendly, and even hostile sometimes, but more often than not he simply does not waste his time with people. As far as he's concerned, his true life is over, and the ideals of friendship and love and vigorous lust for life are better left to the living. He's certainly not the type to go out of his way to strike up friendly conversation, but he'll probably step in to save the life of a stranger, and he will happily pledge his blade to a master he deems worthy. Basically, this guy is a wet blanket most all of the time, but his wit and cunning are sharp, so it's better to make an ally of him than an enemy.

Abilities:

Welp, as a DK, Koltira has access to a long list of abilities, so i'll just drop this here, rather than list them all off! Koltira is a strong melee fighter, and wields a large two-handed runesword (affectionately called Byfrost), but he's also capable of using a few ice and unholy based ranged spells. He has access to a range of abilities by the use of empowered runes, and the dark scourge magic that animates him, and dwells within him still, and as such he's capable of inflicting crippling diseases upon his targets, freezing them, and visiting upon them other such terrifying and excruciating pains.

His dulled sense of touch can also be considered a strength, alongside his tolerance for pain - it's difficult to take down an enemy who can stand up to a severe punishment with little effect. Death knights able able to freeze their very own blood to protect themselves.

Koltira's heritage as an elf also provides him with a few unique abilities as well - he's swift, light-footed and dextrous, despite the heavy armor he wears, and he's proficient with a bow as well. Aside from the common tongue, he can also speak his native elfin tongue, Thalassian, as well as Orcish, and the dark language of the dead.

Inventory:

- x 1 armor set
- x 1 rune blade (by frost)
- a few stacks of frostweave bandages
- a few stacks of health potions
- x1 sour disposition

Link to an image of the character: Here, and here!

Prose Sample: From a different game:

What have I gotten myself into.

Koltira had not chosen to come to this place, but all things considered, choice was not a thing that he was generally accustomed to being given in the first place. For as long as he could remember he had been a soldier, always reporting to this person or that, always the subordinate of someone, and that was all right, he didn't mind taking direction. He was good at what he did, and so long as his commanding officers were intelligent and confident, Koltira was content to be led. That had all changed, of course, after his death. Arthas, and later Sylvanas - and now this.. Koltira felt like a child's toy, yanked carelessly about between selfish masters, never given a choice of his own, never given a will.

This place was no different. He had not asked to be brought here, he had not volunteered for this, and yet here he was, at the mercy of yet another master, given a subordinate of his own to care for, to look after and mold and shape, to rehabilitate. Such a responsibility was daunting, and Koltira could not help but .. doubt himself. He hardly had it in him to keep himself afloat; how could anyone possibly think that he could have been of help to anyone else? And worse - to someone in need? Koltira had not thought himself capable of such a thing. Clearly the Admiral thought differently.

Breathing a cold sigh, Koltira paced ceaselessly along the deck, his plate boots ringing in heavy footfalls as he stalked and skulked and everything in between, while his pale, luminescent eyes looked out over the surrounding blanket of stars as if the answer he sought was somewhere within them, waiting to be found, if only he could stare hard enough.

But it wasn't, of course, and the stars remained silent, keeping their counsel, and Koltira remained hopelessly adrift, and endlessly frustrated. "One foot before the other," he muttered to himself in a low, echoing voice, his gaze shifting to the deck before him, to his own strong footfalls. To find a place on Azeroth, to find a place here.. how could he ever hope to achieve such a thing?



Journal Sample: Here, and here!