Facet

Essentials

• Full Name/Surname: Unknown
• Aliases: Solariath Coronus Magnus (an appropriately pretentious alias Facet goes by when dealing "legitmately" in Silvermoon City- he shortens this to "Sol" for more informal settings) , Facet (within the Tong and other criminal circles)
• Title: While Facet sees the value in being known for things, he despises false pretense and sees formal titles as little more than that. To Facet, the character of a person is told in their deeds.
• Allegiances: Facet's allegiances are, at best, ephemeral, and his only true allegiances he plays rather close to the vest. Currently he is employed in Silvermoon with the Grey Tiger Tong.
• Race: Blood Elf
• Class: Rogue
• Professions: Jewelcrafting/Mining

Appearance

• Gender: Male
• Apparent Age: Young, perhaps in his early twenties.
• Height: 6'1"
• Weight: 195lbs.
• Eye Color: Chartreuse
• Hair Color: Black

Biographical

• Age: 27
• Home: Silvermoon City
• Place of Birth: Silvermoon City
• Parents: Unknown
• Siblings: Unknown
• Other Relations: Unknown
• Language(s): Thalassian, Orcish
• Associates: Kayce, Udelle

In-Depth

Appearance

Lean, wiry, and deceptively waifish, Facet thrives on the propensity and likelihood of his opponent underestimating him. Two pale green smiling eyes stare out from under a drape of long dark locks, and a delicate jawline is accented by a small, pointed goatee which he's often fond of stroking while in thought.

As a "legitimate businessman", he knows how to dress formally, choosing finery somewhat reserved for the more expected tastes of his people, but nonetheless blends in. While on the job, Facet chooses to adorn himself with only the most flexible and supple of body protection, well crafted and rugged- and granting him enough range to do the things he needs to.

He's often seen with a small pipette of parchment in his mouth, one usually containing a blend of bloodthistle that is atypically fragrant and invigorating, and not at all acrid. He also speaks with a decidedly human cockney drawl, a characteristic that marks him as quite different from other Sin'dorei. He can, when the occasion calls for it, submerge those turns of phrase for a more cultured-sounding speech, but most of the time, when relaxed, it is his preferred method of communicating.

Personality

Much like his appearance, Facet's behavior can also be quite deceptive. He's expertly adept at playing both The Man of Honor and The Brigand, depending upon what is called for in any given situation. Nearly everything about his outward behavior is a carefully plotted facade, designed to confound and manipulate.

What's on the inside remains an enigma to most, save those he truly trusts, and those are few and far between. And while Facet is not a guarded person without good reason, the labyrinth he's built around himself is convoluted and difficult to decipher, and quite often, out of his control. Deception is such a part of who he is that it's reflex now.

Most know him as the smirking trickster, but the roots of his act go deeper than that. Few see the single-minded determination, or the survivalist. Few see an indomitable will. But then again, Facet feels it's always best to be unexpected.

History

Facet began life running. Scarcely two years old when the Scourge came to Quel'thalas, he still wakes up sometimes in a cold sweat, watching in dreams replayed the fair city collapse in ashes while his mother did her best to keep him quiet in the underbrush they were hiding in. He watches as the armies of the dead strode up the Dead Scar- heedless in their single-minded directive.

In dreams he sees his mother perish at their hands. And he remembers little more of it.

The Mean Streets of "Old Windy"

Where his memory once again resumes is at the Orphanage in Stormwind, where he spent most of his early childhood and where he first got a name. The marm had bestowed it upon him, saying that his eyes were like Facets of an emerald. the name stuck. While many of the other orphans had lost their families in the Second War, few were as lonely or isolated in that orphanage as Facet. They at least had others of their own kind still to comfort them in their grief.

And if simple facts of nature weren't enough to drive a wedge between himself and his new peers, politics would put in the final hammerblows. The Alliance was breaking under the strain of post-war accusations, recrimination and bickering. The Quel'dorei were rescinding their membership, and the jingoists and sabre-rattlers on both sides were already hard at work with careless divisive talk. They say children learn by way of mimicking their elders, and sadly for young Facet, this new lesson would leave him forever a pariah among the people of Stormwind.

Facet was nearly ten when he'd first heard the term "blood elf" used to describe him. He did not know what it meant, but he wasn't sure he liked the tone. He began slipping away from the orphanage at times, listening at the doors of pubs and shops, hearing the term again and again. And never hearing it in any pleasant context. He began to realize that people- even those that did not know him- hated him. Over the next couple years he got into a great many scraps with the other boys at the orphanage. It got bad enough that the Matron had to keep him in his own separate room much of the time, which did little more than underline the conflict. The war had come to his home once again.

A couple years later, Facet had decided, as many boys nearing manhood do, that he'd much rather make his own way than deal with the adversity he was putting up with in his home- even if it was only a surrogate one. And it was not so surprising that he settled on solving the problem the way a lot of other young boys do. He ran away. Unlike a lot of young boys, he never came back. He had nothing to return to, once again.

In the few years that followed Facet lived on the streets of Stormwind, among the vagrants and street people, many who came and went. He even met the more well-known among the disenfranchised living in Stormwind. He began to steal from the various street vendors, and later, shopkeeps, to survive. He became something of a legend among the vagrants of the city for his ability to succeed in impossible lifts- large items, awkward items. Facet found acceptance among his new peers, for once, because of what he could do, rather than what he appeared to be at first glance.

Seeking to improve his reputation among his peers, he sought larger and larger targets. Eventually he was stealing whole casks of ale from the Gallinas' Winery, or entire wheels of cheese from Elling Trias. He wasn't selfish. In fact he always shared his ill-gotten gain among his comrades, such as Topper MacNabb, for whom Facet had developed an affinity- for he too had lost much in the wars and the politics that followed.

It was during one of these thefts that he ran into one of the few souls in the city who might truly be kindred to his. While slipping into an alleyway just outside Trias' Cheese, he ran headlong into another who appeared, at least at first glance, to be Quel'dorei, like himself. He was larger, and hard not to run into. At first it wasn't the kindest of meetings.

The other elf, Kayce very nearly forced him back to the shop to give back what he'd taken. Facet, the smaller and faster of the two slipped underneath him as effortlessly as butter off a hot knife. Kayce gave chase, shouting after him to stop while winding through the alleys and then the canals.

Just when he'd thought he'd lost the young wastrel, Kayce caught up with him in Old Town. He spotted him with the loot- distributing it among the other homeless. The two locked eyes briefly, and each lost their illusions about the other. It would not be the last time they would meet. Indeed the two crossed paths many more times, learned about one another, and became nearly like brothers- though they were somewhat separated in their respective situations.

And Facet would, in time, repay his debt in kind. Later on, when the turbulent, divisive atmosphere of the city was beginning to make Kayce and his family consider leaving it. Just as Facet had, Kayce found himself the target of regular suspicious and scornful glances, occasional hateful speech, but nothing would prepare him for the real bloom of hate and paranoia he would soon experience.

While returning from the market with sundries, Kayce and his mother Badzet were waylaid by a pair of drunkards stumbling home from The Pig and Whistle after a long night of drinking. they saw the mother and her son, a pointy-eared tree-hugger and her snot-nosed half-breed spawn. These two were drunk enough to take all leave of their good senses, and not hungover enough to sleep off the stupidity.

Kayce's mother was struck silly by a stone that landed hard against her head as dumb luck would have it, and with her prone and half-collapsed in her son's arms, the other moved in with a broken half of bottle in his hand, thinking to finish the whelp. Kayce, too shocked by the sheer barbarism of the act that was unfolding before his eyes, and too concerned about his now-unconscious mother, didn't see the second man closing quarters.

But he did hear bones snap from behind him, heard a yelp of pain and the enraged cry of a familiar voice, "you leave them alone!" In the second it took to turn around, Kayce saw the nearest man, half bottle lying on the ground and a shattered forearm to show for it. He saw Facet duck underneath his maimed and collapsing opponent, snatch up the bottle and launch himself at the second man, pinning him between the wall and a very sharp piece of glass which Facet shoved perilously close to the human's neck.

Not wishing to see any more bloodshed come of it, Kayce needed all his effort to pull Facet off the inebriated and suddenly quite lucid drunk who only moments ago had been threatening Kayce's life and was now begging for his own. Letting both men go on the honor of a lesson learned, Facet helped Kayce bring his mother home. It was the event that would set their friendship in stone. Sadly it was also the event that convinced Kayce's mother that they should leave for somewhere safer.

For the next twelve years, Facet once again found himself on his own.

Associates

((UNDER CONSTRUCTION))