Althwyn Lliandra Mercier

=Physical Description=Althwyn is about five nine, muscular and toned from her warrior training, with a curvaceous figure. She is usually well-dressed and speaks in a somewhat formal fashion, though without pretentiousness or arrogance. Her slightly angular features come from a father who was half night elf, and the golden flecks in her eyes bespeak the same heritage.

=Personality=Althwyn is usually very friendly, although sometimes withdrawn or introverted. She usually bears a serious countenance, but smiles readily. At time she sits quietly by herself, appearing to stare off into space. It is somewhat known about Stormwind that Althwyn was returned from the dead, and rumor has it that she has visions of the mysts and the land of the dead still.

=History=Althwyn came running across the bridge with a handful of wildflowers for her mother. Two of the guards waved at her as she raced by, and she giggled and waved back. Guard Robert, a tall handsome fellow in his twenties, was her favorite, and she often stopped to talk to him.

"Hi Robert!" exclaimed Althwyn, running up to him.

"Good morning, little lady," said the guard, smiling brilliantly at her. "What's that you've got there?"

"Flowers for mommy," said the little girl. "Daffodils are her favorite."

"Well, get along now, so she can put them in a vase!" said Robert.

"See you later!" said Althwyn as she sped away.

She raced into the cottage she and her parents lived in and leapt into her mother's lap.

"Oof" said Aeshwyn as she caught the child. "Oh, Althwyn, did you bring me flowers?"

"Yes!" said Althwyn excitedly as she offered her mother the blossoms. "I know how much you like daffodils. Didn't Daddy used to bring them to you?"

"Yes, he did," said Aeshwyn, smoothing her daughter's thick, dark hair. "Let me put them in some water." Aeshwyn put down the child and went to search for a vase.

Suddenly, a deep, blaring sound filled the air, and Althwyn saw her mother's face filled with fear. Althwyn was confused. "What, mommy? What is it?"

Not answering, Aeshwyn got up and went to the door. Althwyn followed her, anxiously.

Her father, Ilshtirien, came running up the path. "Orcs!" he said. "Quickly, Aeshwyn, take Althwyn to safety!"

Aeshwyn started to protest, but Ilshtirien waved her off. "Go quickly!" he demanded, and Aeshwyn dared not disobey. She picked up Althwyn with one hand and rushed to the stable. Putting Althwyn down, she started to saddle their only horse.

"What is it, mommy?" cried Althwyn, truly alarmed. "Never mind, my child, we must do as your father says," said Aeshwyn. She finished saddling the horse, put Althwyn on it, and got up behind her. With a word from Aeshwyn, the horse stampeded from the stable and down the forest path.

Althwyn saw the figures of burning houses and buildings in the town, and those of orcs rushing through, trampling all in their path. Three of them spotted the two on the horse, and gave chase, but Aeshwyn spurred the horse and they soon fell behind.

Taking shelter in the nearby township of Goldshire, Aeshwyn and Althwyn remained in the inn, afraid to venture outside. Night fell, and the two huddled close to each other. Althwyn cried because she was afraid, and the priestess Aeshwyn comforted her daughter as best she could.

The next day, they returned to Lakeshire. The orcs had gone, but they had wrought terrible havoc in their wake. The bodies of guards and citizens alike lay upon the ground, and nearly all the buildings had been burned. Not a soul alive was to be seen.

Aeshwyn picked her way among the bodies, and Althwyn followed her.

Hearing a moan from nearby, Althwyn turned - and saw her father.

"Mommy!" she rushed to her father's side. "Daddy!"

Her father opened his eyes. There was blood on his face, and his shirt was soaked through with blood. Althwyn cried to see her father so hurt.

"Althwyn...." her father whispered. "I love you."

Aeshwyn, her face riddled with tears, began to pray; but it was too late. Ilshtirien had gone.

Althwyn cried hard, laying her head upon her father's chest; until finally, Aeshwyn led her away, away from the town and back towards the forest.

-

Two and a half decades later, Althwyn stood in the cemetery at Lakeshire, where her father was buried. Her old cottage had never been rebuilt, but the rest of the town had been built anew. Guard Robert was gone, killed in action that day so long ago - few of the citizens had survived, but the ones that had had returned to open their holdings once more, and most of their children had now grown to adulthood.

Althwyn knelt and laid some white roses on her father's grave. The tiny child had turned into a sturdy young woman, with the light of determination in her brown eyes. She had come from Theramore Isle to seek what she desired most - instruction in the path of the warrior, and it was in Stormwind City that she had begun her training. Now, she was a seasoned solder; strong and relentless in her duty to the people, which she herself had undertaken.

"I miss you, Father," whispered Althwyn. "I make this vow to you now; that I will not rest until Azeroth is made safe, and danger held at bay, or until I give my life defending her."

She returned to the bridge, where a phalanx of seasoned fighters stood awaiting her.

"Friends," shouted Althwyn, drawing her sword. "To battle!"

And with that, the group thundered across the bridge on horseback towards the orc camps.