Player Name: Maladict
Player DW: moonlitscribe

 
Contact: AIM: Azirafail533, e-mail: Azirafail533@gmail.com
Character Number: First

Character: Azirafail Moonscribe
Source: World of Warcraft (OC)
Appearance: Here and here.

History: Azirafail was born an only child approximately 300 years before present day in the current WoW canon at the Night Elf settlement on Mt. Hyjal, his people’s most sacred mountain. His mother was a Sentinel (a member of an all-female warrior society that served as the main military force in their culture) and his father was a Druid, a practitioner of natural magic and nature worship. As all other Night Elves on Mt. Hyjal, Azirafail’s family was dedicated to the protection and nurturing of the World Tree that grew on its slopes - Nordrassil.

Azirafail’s early life was largely very peaceful. The proximity of the World Tree afforded those who lived on Hyjal a constant sense of well-being, and so in many ways his childhood would be considered by other Night Elves to be idyllic. His parents were kind and well-respected, and they largely allowed him to do as he wished. Being a quiet child by nature, that meant spending a large amount of time walking through the forest, drawing, and, when he was old enough, reading. Azirafail loved books, and would often pester his parents to add to their collection whenever traders would come to Hyjal from Ashenvale or Felwood.

It was those books, really, that led to all the issues. In them, Azirafail read about all of these fascinating things that no one ever really seemed to talk about - tales about and from other places, other races, that were nothing like his own. Dwarves, Humans, Trolls, the hated Orcs, the almost as spurned High Elves...there was just so much in the world. Naturally, he began to ask questions. His parents were amused at first, figuring that he would get bored with all of it and eventually lose interest, but they began to worry as time passed and the questions only grew more frequent, more insistent. The Night Elves were an insular people, not particularly give to interest in the world outside of the their own, and while such interest was in no way actually forbidden, it was at least a little unseemly. To make matters worse, Azirafail quietly refused all attempts by his father to make him begin studying the arts of the Druid, an almost expected occupation for Night Elf males who were unsuited to become craftsmen, and instead constantly insisted that he wanted to enter the Priesthood of Elune. For thousands of years, the clergy of the Night Elf goddess had been open only to females, and while that restriction had been slowly loosening by the time of Azirafail’s birth, it was still unusual enough to arouse more than a little comment.

For many years, Azirafail was met by resistance from both his parents and the priestesses, but he knew that the priesthood was his calling and so he persevered. After a time, his constant pestering did in fact wear everyone involved down, and he was allowed to be tested to become an Acolyte of Elune. Much to everyone’s surprise (and even his own, a little), it was found that divine powers responded very well to Azirafail, and that even without training he was able to craft The Light into rudimentary healing spells under controlled conditions. And so, Azirafail was granted permission to enter into the Priesthood, where he spent the next 150 years studying, meditating and practicing until he became a fully vested Priest and divine healer of superlative skill.

Around his 200th year, Azirafail was approached by a somewhat unexpected group that included his parents, several senior priestesses and a few other prominent members in his community. He was handed a letter addressed to him from High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind herself. In the missive, the High Priestess spoke of a sense of impending change, of great upheaval, and her wish to slowly begin bringing her people out of their deep isolation to try to cope with a world that was passing them by. As a first step, she wished to send a small delegation of Night Elves to the High Elf kingdom of Quel’Thalas as a gesture of goodwill.  Azirafail’s resolve to follow his path despite entrenched cultural tradition was known to her, for which she commended him and bade him travel with the delegation to show the High Elves the grace of Elune once more. She ended the missive with a simple line that stayed with Azirafail for the rest of his life - “Go forth into the world with my blessing, brave one. Remember that you are loved, on this earth and in the heavens, and that Elune grants mercy to all of Her children.”

Azirafail’s time in the High Elf capital of Silvermoon was undoubtedly the best in his life. The city was truly a wonder to behold, beautiful beyond words. There was magic and artistry, Dwarven metalwork and Human ingenuity everywhere he looked. He attended arcane Symposiums, read texts on rhetoric and logic, gave small sermons and argued points of theology with bemused High Elves. The scope of his world (and his mind) expanded dramatically, and he felt truly blessed to have been given such an opportunity in his life. He was even able to make a few friends among the High Elves, mostly noteably a young mage named Verenor in whom he found something of a kindred spirit. Decades passed happily for him in the land of the exiles, and he felt like it was a place he could remain in forever.

And then the dead began to rise from their graves in the Human kingdom of Lordaeron.

When Lordaeron fell to the forces of the Death Knight Arthas, Azirafail knew that he had to do something to help. He loved his life in Silvermoon, but he knew he had the power to assist the battered humans - after all, Elune granted mercy to all of Her children, regardless of what race they were. He was a healer above all else, and wouldn’t stand idle while there were injuries to be mended. The world was changing, and he knew that he held a place in it.

After learning that many human refugees were making their way south to the city of Stormwind, Azirafail approached Verenor and asked for him to use his magic to transport him to the outskirts of the city. After a sorrowful farewell, he stepped through the glowing mage-portal and into the Elwynn Forest, leaving behind his life once again.

The first years in Stormwind were hard, to say the least. After demonstrating his ability to commune with the Light and his skill with healing, he was allowed to reside in the Cathedral of Light, though not really admitted into its ranks. Many viewed him with suspicion, given the Night Elves’ aloof nature and sparse aid to the Alliance, and even those he helped during those turbulent years were often more wary of him than grateful. Eventually, though, the Humans were able to recover from their terrible tragedy, and began to thrive. Over the years, Stormwind grew into a great city, though Azirafail never was quite as impressed with it as he had been of Silvermoon. The city filled with Dwarves, Gnomes, even more and more of his fellow Night Elves, and he began to feel more at home. The priests of the Holy Light slowly warmed to him as well, and he became a respected healer, though still not viewed as a part of the Church. The years passed relatively quickly, with Azirafail focusing on improving his healing arts and helping the growing Night Elf community assimilate in the Human lands, and he was content with his life, for the most part. Until Deathwing came, of course.

Deathwing’s attack on the city was chaos. While the city remained standing, the damage was immense. The Park, the area of the city mostly populated by his fellow Night Elves, was completely destroyed. Thousands lost their lives in the attack, and thousands more were injured. As people scrambled to clear burning debris to get to survivors, Azirafail and other healers from the Cathedral moved slowly through the streets, singing the Divine Hymn for hours, their beautiful song a solemn counterpoint to the screams and moans of the dying. This action completely drained the Priests and even brought several of them close to death, given the incredibly taxing nature of the Hymn, but hundreds were healed who might otherwise have been lost in the attack.

This proved to be a pivotal moment in Azirafail’s life. When the city settled after the attack, he and the other healers received a commendation from the crown, and were hailed by the citizens as heroes for their actions. Azirafail was further rewarded by the Archbishop of Stormwind with full vestature into the Church of the Holy Light. In a touching gesture, he was gifted with a special Staff of Office - unlike the metal staves given to other full Priests, Azirafail’s staff was constructed of precious woods, and the usual golden cross of the Church that topped the staff was joined by a silver crescent moon, signifying the joining in cause of Elune and the Holy Light.

Timeline: Azirafail exists in the present-day WoW cannon, up to just after the revelation of the continent of Pandaria.

Personality: There are three traits that form the cornerstones of Azirafail’s personality - his faith, his sense of civility and etiquette, and his fierce intelligence.

Azirafail is a very religious individual. His faith in Elune is deep and stalwart, and it colors the way he looks at the entire world. She is a being of Good, a font of compassion and beneficence, and his belief in Her convinces him that the world is much the same, or that at least it can be. He does his best to be optimistic, sympathetic and caring to any that he interacts with, regardless of race, background or their own individual belief systems.

Elune is a serene goddess, and as one of Her priests, he acts in a manner to exemplify that serenity to others. He is a calm, even-tempered individual, even in the face of extreme emotional duress. Years of study and meditation have allowed him to find a balance between genuine sympathy for those around him and the peaceful strength often demanded of those in his station. He is, of course, not perfect in this regard (he is, after all, only mortal). If pushed hard enough, he will become visibly upset, angry or indignant, but it does generally take a concerted effort to do this, even from individuals that he actively dislikes. It is also quite possible for him to err in the other direction - a naturally quiet and thoughtful individual, he can often lapse into periods of introspection that border on the withdrawn, if allowed to.

Neither Azirafail nor his faith exists in a vacuum, a fact that he is very well aware of. He knows that the world is not always a beautiful or even very often a kind place, and that is where his intellect really comes into play. While an emotionally-attuned person, he knows that a great deal of rationality is needed to face an often uncaring world, whatever his faith tells him. A great deal of his temperance comes from his rational side; it is entirely possible to care about something deeply and still be practical. His rationality also allows him to be a very open-minded individual, a trait that he takes a lot of pride in. He knows that the world is filled with people, cultures, ideas, beliefs and even powers that are not his own, and that is precisely part of the reason that he loves it so much. He loves to learn, to see new things and to be challenged intellectually- he doesn’t love (or even necessarily respect) everything introduced to him, and it isn’t always easy being confronted with things that contradict his own core beliefs and having to admit that they can be valid, but there are very few things that he will reject out of hand simply because he is “supposed” to. His adamant refusal to vilify the races of the Horde is a good example of this, despite the fact that there is deep cultural unease between his people and the Orcs, and his own personal discomfort with dealing with the Undead.

Azirafail is also a ruthlessly, relentlessly polite individual. He is always civil and proper, except only when under almost fatal levels of stress. It is deeply important to him to interact with people in a respectful, proper way, even those he hates. In his mind, if you aren’t civil, you barely have a right to be called a person. He is really very formal, even when in informal situations or when talking to people he considers close friends. Social rituals and cultural etiquette are absolutely paramount, and he makes it a point to learn what is considered polite to those he might interact with so that he can do it the ‘right way’ - it can actually be something of an obsession with him until he finds out what he needs to know. Because of this, he is often seen as aloof and stiff, and people sometimes have a hard time knowing if he actually enjoys their company or not, since the ‘warmer’ civility he presents to friends is only subtly different from the ‘cooler’ type delivered to everyone else. Also stemming from this, Azirafail has a very difficult time dealing with impolite or improper individuals. He is mature enough to give some leeway for the differences in peoples’ lives, but if he feels that he has been insulted or not had his respect returned in kind (especially when he is just meeting a person) he will almost always form a lasting dislike for that individual that is very difficult for him to overcome. He’ll still be polite to that person, of course, but only to the barest extent that etiquette will allow, and would pretty much do anything within those same confines to not interact with that person again.

Abilities: Azirafial is a powerful, accomplished healer, able to cope with everything ranging from small wounds to life-threatening injuries. In addition, he is able to cure most diseases, neutralize poisons in a patient and also remove most ailments of a magical nature, though he is unable to lift curses. The Priest abilities from WoW have been posted before, so I’ll refrain from doing so again, but a few of the notable spells that may be of interest to a game include -

Divine Hymn - Azirafail and other Holy Priests can sing a hymn that will heal any who hear it. The spell is powerful enough to heal almost any injury, though those on the brink of death may require more attention to be stabilized. The use of the hymn is deeply draining, and leaves Azirafail unable to invoke the Light for some time afterwards.

Levitate - Causes people to hover about a foot off of the ground. Movement is normal while levitating, and it can be used to ‘float’ down slowly from heights.

Mind Vision - Allows Azirafial to see through the eyes of others. They are aware that it is happening, though he doesn’t need their permission to use the spell. It can’t be used on people who are openly hostile towards him.

Shadowmeld - Azirafail can fade into shadows if he stands utterly still and concentrates, making him almost invisible until he moves again.

Azirafail is a scribe, and so can read and write. He has beautiful penmanship, and enjoys making decorative calligraphy. He can also use his ability to forge handwriting, though it’s not something he’s often willing to do unless there is a very good reason for it.

Azirafail is quite good with languages thanks to the long-lived nature of his race and his avid interest in people, and is fluent in Darnassian, Common, and Thalassian. He is conversant in Dwarven and Draenei, and knows enough to make basic necessities understood in Pandaran. He also knows a few words of Orcish, enough to make a polite greeting and valediction and declare himself a non-enemy.

Inventory: Staff of Office - An approximately 7-foot tall staff made of precious wood, topped with a gold cross and a silver crescent moon.

Traveler’s Backpack containing:

Three full sets of clothing (robes, shoulders, gloves, slippers) - one of plain white cotton for daily use, one formal set of thick white silk embroidered in silver, and one set of adventuring robes in the Pandarian stlye (pictured in appearance shot).

A small first-aid bundle, including cloth bandages, needles, and thread.

A carved wooden scribe’s set, including various silver styli, crystal jars of ink and sheets of various grades of paper.

A small hymnal containing devotions to Elune, which he copied and illuminated himself.

A letter from High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind, upon which a small Keeping spell has been cast in order to preserve its condition.

Prose Sample: He lived, without question, in a time of miracles and blessings beyond measure. Even still, his heart broke to pieces every time it was a child. Moon and stars in the heavens, how could it ever be otherwise?

He knew that it was going to be very bad when he heard running footsteps echoing in the marble narthex of the Cathedral of Light, followed by gasps from the two lay priests assigned to assist supplicants entering into the nave.

Azirafail closed his eyes briefly and then stood up from where he had been kneeling in front of the candle-lit altar performing a quiet litany of devotions to Elune. Schooling his features into calmness, he quickly smoothed the front of his robes and then turned to face the entrance. He saw two disheveled Dwarves standing there, a man and a woman. The man was yelling and gesturing frantically to one of the lay priests, while the woman simply stood with her eyes closed, cradling a small black and red bundle of some kind that was difficult to make out in the dim light.

Azirafail began to walk towards the dwarves at a measured pace, making sure to tap his Staff of Office on the marble floor tiles as he progressed. The yelling Dwarf was a bit too worked up to notice, but the woman opened her eyes at the rhythmic tapping and then started to run down the aisle, doing her best not to jostle the bundle in her arms. Azirafail felt a sharp pang of anxiety, but didn’t allow it to color his expression or his stride.

“My daughter,” he called to the rapidly approaching woman, voice deep and calm. “What may I do to assist…”

Oh, Mother Moon, grant me strength. He stopped in mid sentence as the dwarf reached him and he saw what it was that she was carrying.

The injuries were…catastrophic. The poor child was so terribly burned that portions of their flesh were charred and flaking, and exposed bone could be seen on the extremities. It was horrible, hideous beyond words or reason. His breath caught in his throat; he wanted to weep, to howl.  Instead, he took a deep breath and blinked once, very deliberately. He moved his gaze up to the woman’s eyes and held it there. She had begun to shake, tears streaming down her cheeks, but her arms remained steady.

“Your child?” he asked softly, his voice soothing.

“A..aye,” she responded, her voice cracking.

“Daughter,” he said in the same tone, uttering those hateful, necessary words. “These injuries are mortal. I cannot guarantee the life of this child, even with divine intervention. Do you understand?”

The woman began to cry in earnest, then. She frantically nodded her head.

Azirafail bent down and softly kissed the distraught woman on the forehead. “You stand within the Cathedral of Light, daughter. There is mercy here, even if there is little to be found elsewhere in the world.” He straightened and cast a Levitate spell on the child, gently lifting them from their mother’s arms into his own. He looked down upon the stricken form he now carried.

“With this injury, I will contend.”

Journal Sample: [The mirror comes to life, allowing you to see Azirafail sitting at the table in his croft. He appears to be...a bit out of order - his skin is a touch pale, the tips of his eyebrows are starting to droop, a few strands of hair are conspicuously out of place. The rest of the croft that can be seen in the image appears to have been hit by a small tornado, what with the scattered articles of clothing and opened drawers and cupboards.]

A good morning to everyone, and may the blessings of Elune be with you all. Please forgive the intrusion, but I’m afraid I have a small favor to ask, if anyone happens to be around.

[He stops speaking a moment and takes a small breath, looking slightly embarrassed. It’s difficult to tell, but it might just be possible that he isn’t looking directly into the mirror, as if ashamed to meet your eyes. What he’s about to ask is so rude.]

Would...might anyone possibly have some tea? I’m afraid that I simply cannot find my tea leaves again, and I’ve looked everywhere. Again, I’m so sorry to bother, but it really is extraordinarily difficult to get going in the morning without a proper cup of tea. I’m beginning to suspect that the faeries may be playing a trick on me, given how often this happens.

[A small smile appears on his face, and he chuckles softly. A little of the shame seems to go out of him. A little.]

Ah, well, such is the world we live in, no?