Feyrin Raventalon



=Physical Description= He stands tall, obviously Half-Elven given his height and slightly tipped ears, with a haughty look about him. Arms crossed over his chest usually, he glances with aged hazel eyes, to each individual with a arrogant, mild grin. Carrying an arsenal of weaponry, it's not difficult to tell Feyrin's had his fair share of adventures, as well as battles. Usually garbed in exquisite High-Elven robes, affiliated with Silvermoon, that roll down the length of his body. Massive plated spaulders sit on his shoulders, large jagged razors standing upright on each. He sports many scars and markings, three scars most noteworthy. First, a long, thin scar running horizontally across his throat that looks that it should have been fatal. Second, a jaggedly carved, thick scar running cross-ways over his chest (top left to lower right). Lastly, what looks to be dozens of lashes from a crude whip covering his back.

The Bastard Blade of Raventalon
Forged some thousand years ago of Arcanite by the Quel'Dorei named Bemarrin, aptly named after it's owner. It's creation was painstaking and continually delayed due to complications. The Arcanite alone was difficult enough to gather, let alone the special qualities required to forge what was sought to be created. For a weapon as powerful as desired to be created, a unique quality was needed, that being water from the Sunwell itself. Once gathered, the vial of enchanted water was mixed into the forge's contents.

Being one of the very first Vampiric Runeblades to come into existence, it's had much time to grow in power, it's strong instinct to survive having kept it intact thus far. The blade's beautiful and magnificently shaped edge and hilt mask a deeper, darker truth beneath ruby gems and golden coatings. Drawing the life force from those it strikes, it slowly drains the energy from it's victims until it strikes it's foe dead, or drains them completely through a long and painful process. After storing the souls of those slain, it then fuels it's wielder with a portion of that power.

Now a days, the Bastard Sword lays quietly, patiently, within the depths of it's golden and silver sheath across Feyrin's back.

Halberd of the Horseman
It's base and bladed tip made of weighted Thorium and length forged of Mithril, this spear-like Halberd proves to be the perfect weapon in both mounted and medium ranged melee combat. With both opposing ends being weighted to balance almost perfectly, the weapon has a flow almost of it's own. It lays cross-ways over the Bastard Sword on Feyrin's back.

The Sunbreaker Rapier
Once wielded by one of the generals of Quel'Thalas during the Troll Wars, this blade was taken up by Feyrin as the general had fallen, and used to slay countless Trolls. Elegantly forged, this slender blade sits perfectly balanced in one's hand, light as a feather from the masterwork crafting of the Quel'Dorei. Slipped into a slim leather scabbard, it sits along Feyrin's belt.

The Tome of Nordrassil
Roughly 6" thick, 1' long and 8" wide, this musty old tome dangles precariously at the end of a small silver chain around Feyrin's belt. It's pages with chapter upon chapter of thousands of spells, both Old Magic and New, were carved from the very world tree itself. How such an act was performed under the Kaldorei's eyes is unknown,but proof of the book's powers has been displayed on countless occasions during combat with Feyrin.

The Dagger of Desecration
Tucked securely under Feyrin's robes, this thick, jagged and grotesquely shaped dagger is stained in blood and foul magic. Dark runes of fel magic and necromancy litter the blade's face in messy knots overlaying each other, obviously used for dark rituals and sacrifices.

Talons of the Raven
Having sustained irreparable damage to the bone structure of his forearms during an intense moment of combat with Adorix the Frostlasher, Feyrin has replaced the fragmented and shattered bones of his forearms with Elementium, which contributes a great deal to his combat capabilities when absorbing, channeling and controlling elemental magics. At his finger tips where his nails should be, he's replaced them with keenly sharpened talons.

=Personality= A showboat of superiority, would best describe how he appears to most. Sadist, hypocritical and consumed in his own illusion of honor. Though he hides a deeper side to him, drowning it out to the public with his rude, and occasionally drunken behavior. To the few that know him, he would seem surprisingly wise, and philosophical. Though his age often would appear to dull his sharp mind. Usually masking his magical prowess and strength, he'd most likely appear to be just another pompous magi who can't get off his high horse.

Melee Combat Style
Built slender and lean, it's no surprise Feyrin's not one to be able to take direct hits. Using a combination of mind-bogglingly complex maneuvers and counter parries, combined with magically enhanced defenses, he absorbs, deflects and counter-maneuvers his opponents. His fighting style shifts and is based primarily upon his attacker's style of combat in most occasions, making his close quarters combat both flexible and technical.

Magical Combat Style
Virtually unparalleled in, the art of magical warfare and combat is Feyrin's most feared tool of destruction among his array of weaponry. Utilizing a combination of ancient enchanted artifacts, intense study and sheer willpower over the arcane weave, Feyrin draws from many categories of magical study. His main focus of energy draws from the element of fire, pyromancy. In an onslaught of pillars of flame, spontaneous combustion, orbs of molten rock and anything the imagination could dream up, he attacks in a slurry of styles and tactics to keep his opponents on their toes.

Mounted Combat Style
Rarely caught in combat in this form, however, Feyrin still maintains his technique now days since his recruitment into the Brotherhood of the Horse. Using a jousting method, Feyrin spearheads into combat, wielding his Halberd in one hand, pinned under the pit of his arm, and in the other hand usually duel-wielding his Rapier.

=Quotes= ''"Don't make me incinerate you." "Hey. You, idiot. With the dull expression reflecting your lack of a thought process and that name I don't bother remembering." "That's not a bloody Moonwell you twat! It's a pond! You know I saw an Elekk shit in that? And yet you're swimming in it... still." ""I am the blessed and the cursed. Ravager of the living and warder of the reaper. I have happened upon destiny, yet come across luck through prophecy. I bring hope to the hopeless, but am the harbinger of your doom. What I'm really trying to say is simply this. Don't make me bloody incinerate you..." "Stop touching my hat gods damn it!" "Bloody hells." =History''= Feyrin Raventalon's served in many highly respected orders throughout the centuries. Having been one of the very first one-hundred of the Humans to be taught the ways of the Arcane by the High Elves during the Troll Wars, he later on was offered rank amongst the Council of Tirisfall, due to his eccentric wisdom and magical prowess. Later though, however, Feyrin would retire from his position as Councilman due to his disagreement with the Council's decision to hide the Legion's minor, but still existing presence on Azeroth, claiming that having the problem hidden would only encourage the reckless use of magics and once again bring the Legion.

Later, having traveled many miles Feyrin was to be greeted by Stormwind Keep's gates. Feyrin's magical skills put to the test, he joined along side Lothar to serve King Llane Wrynn I. Having survived capture when attempting to retrieve the Tome of Divinity, storming Karazhan to kill Medivh and Stormwind Keep's fall while Lothar lead it's people to Lordaeron, Feyrin Raventalon was quickly named General as the Alliance of Lordaeron was formed.

After Anduin Lothar's death, Feyrin was once again thrown into the frey as the Alliance Expedition marched toward the Dark Portal. In a shameful act however, Feyrin pull those under his command back, evading what appeared certain death as the Dark Portal collapsed. The treck back to Lordaeron was long and dangerous, draining his supplies and his troops' moral. During his travels, bits and pieces of the Scourge invasion trickled down south, eventually reaching General Raventalon's ears. Doubling his efforts now, his battalion rushed to aid, following Jaina Proudmoore to Kalimdor.

With the defeat of the Legion, and the forming of the Horde and Alliance, Feyrin returned to Stormwind. Though light was never shed on Feyrin's survival from the Dark Portal's collapse, he was eventually made Lt. Commander of the Stormwind City Guard and an active member of the Brotherhood of the Horse. Still keeping loose contact and unofficial ranking with Dalaran, as well as keeping in touch with Jaina, Feyrin Raventalon lives the rest of his days as a highly respected figure by the majority of the public within Stormwind.

Family Tree
Damion Wolfrunner  Geldiana Darkbanner |_ _|                                                |             Elendror Raventalon     Kyltia Wolfrunner |_ _|                                 |                                  | Sydial Creed    Feyrin Raventalon - Lúthien Raventalon |                            |    |   Marie Horseman            | |_ _|                        |      |         _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Sarobin Creed |                 | |                 |  Rhy'vanna |_ _ _ _|                | |                 |_ _ _ _|         |          Lydia May    | | Iradeeh Cloudcat      | |              |_ _ _ _| |_ _ _ _|               |         |               |                 |               |         |               |                 |               |   Sydile Creed  Pay Raventalon  Farn'ain Raventalon  Eyther'al Raventalon

=Feyrin's Song=

We listen to the tales and romanticize,

How we follow the path of the hero.

Boast about the day when the rivers overrun,

How we rise to the height of our halo.

Listen to the tales as we all rationalize,

Our way into the arms of the, savior.

Feigning all the trials and the tribulations,

None of us have actually been there,

Not like you...

Ignorant siblings in the congregation,

Gather around spewing sympathy, spare me.

None of them could even hold a candle up to you,

Blinded by choices hypocrites, wont see.

But enough about the collective Judas,

Who could deny, you were the one who illuminated,

Your little piece of the divine.

This light of mine, a gift you passed onto me.

I'm gonna let it shine to guide you safely on your way.

Your way home...

Oh, what're they going to do when the lights go down,

Without you to guide them all to Zion.

What're they going to do when the rivers overrun,

Other than tremble incessantly.

High is the way, but all eyes are upon the ground.

You were the light and the way, they'll only read about.

I only pray heaven knows when to lift you out.

Ten-thousand days in the fire's long enough,

You're going home...

Oh, you're the only one, who could hold your head up high,

shake your fists at the gate saying,

"I have come home now!

Fetch me the Spirit, the Son and the Father!

Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended!"

It's time now, my time now.

Give me my, give me my own wings...

Set as I am in my ways and my arrogance,

Burden of proof tossed upon the believers.

You were my witness my,

Eyes my evidence.

Judith Marie, unconditional one...

Daylight dims leaving, cold fluorescence,

Difficult to see you in this light.

Please forgive this bold, suggestion,

Should you see your Maker's face tonight.

Look Him in the eye, look Him in the eye, and tell Him,

I never lived a lie, never took a life, but surely saved one.

Hallelujah, its time for you to bring me home.

Tool - 10,000 Days