Kharlyn Elizabeth Phoebus
OOC Game Stats
Game Name Kharlyn
Faction Alliance
Race Human
Gender Female
Class Warrior
Guild Knights-Errant
Professions Goblin Engineer/Miner
IC Info
Nicknames Khary
Title Country Bumpkin
Age 23
Height 5'7"
Hair Brown
Eyes Brown
Alignment ?

Physical DescriptionEdit

Her hair tussled and unkept, often times one can decipher where her adventures have taken her based on the shrubbery that can found entangled in her locks. Be warned, behind those beautiful brown eyes and sweet smile, lies a most pure and basic of simpletons. Strapped to her back is a large dual bladed axe, along the wooden handle are crude scratch marks that read, "Ruthy".


Uneducated, kind-hearted simpleton. She's often heard before seen, belching out an off key song about her childhood friends, Pig, Chik-HUN, and Cow.


(In her own words.) Nutt'n much ta say. Me family's full 'o boys. *starts counting on her fingers* Darius, Lothifer, Ryleon, Archivon 'n Joe, me five brothers. Mama passed *holds her hand to her chest* Light bless 'er soul, when I could 'ardly stand on me own two feet. Since I was da young'n outta all six 'o us, I gots beat up pretty good. *kicks off her boots to show an ugly scar wrapped around her foot* Dis one be Ryles, 'e made me test out 'is traps. I finds meself upside down 'ang'n on me foot, turn'n all purple til me pa came ta find me. *She continues to roll up her pants revealing a scar on her knee.* Dis one be Archi, 'e be tripp'n me aftas I broke 'is nose inna fight. *Khary continues to pull up her shirt reveal a scar on her stomach.* Dis one be...

Me brothers? Dey be out fight'n fer the light, kill'n dem foul undeadies. All five 'o em be pallies. I ain't no pally. I didna 'ave no magicks, dey be try'n ta train me, but it ain't work'n cuz I gots none 'o dem gifts dey be talk'n bouts. So me brothers says I fight'n as good as any 'o em, 'n dey says to me, *lowers her tone to mimic that of her brothers* "Khary, yer should come join'n us in Stormwind ta be learn'n 'ow ta fights properly." 'n sos I ends up 'ere.

Folk 'ere are stranger 'n murlocks. 'n murlocks are strange 'nuff. *attempts to make the gurgle sound that murlocks make* Dey be talk'n all sorts 'o thing's likes be'n -fashion-er-ables-, lov'n, moneys, 'n dey all keep runn'n inta me. But, I tells ya da lager dey be serv'n 'ere's s'almost as good as Iron Forge stuff.

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