Chaplain Justimar


Mileager, with his careworn face and streaks of white through his honey-blond hair, looks to be just entering middle age. Broad of chest and solidly built, he is well-suited to wearing the armor and hefting the weapons of his choice. His big hands are rough and calloused, clearly used to hard work, and his skin is the sort of weathered one sees in an outdoorsman. His equipment is typically unadorned, save for his ceremonial trappings, but meticulously maintained, sword always sharp and polished bright, armor without a spot of rust on it's plain surface.

Though he is usually seen with a pleasant smile on his face and a kind word for anyone, there is an underlying weariness to the man, an unspoken - but still apparent - sadness, almost a haunted look in his bright eyes. Sometimes he will just stare off into the distance with a forlorn look on his face until his reverie is disturbed. When not in a brooding state he is pleasant, courteous, and helpful, and he seems eager to get a sense of the people and environment he's occupying at any given time.

Basic Information Edit

Name: Mileager Vilesilencer Justimar
Guild: Akademia
Nicknames: Chaplain, Miles
Occupation: Agent of the Argent Dawn, Chaplain of the Order of the Silver Hand, Preceptor of the Argent Coalition in Stormwind
Race: Human (Gilneas)
Age: 26 (Looks more than a decade older)
Class: Paladin
Sex: Male
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Hair: Golden Blond
Height: 6'1"
Weight:220 lbs.


Mileager's father was a Knight of the Silver Hand who served with the younger Lord Uther Lightbringer during the second war and beyond. when Genn Greymane withdrew his nation from the Alliance, Earl Vortagern of Justimar Hold did what he could to maintain ties with his friends and colleagues outside. He raised his son to follow in his footsteps, endeavoring to instill in young Mileager the virtues that he felt best suit a Paladin- Valor, Piety, Wisdom, and Humility. Mileager was an apt pupil, and did his family proud, growing strong and developing a sense of responsability to his folk.

When the third war broke out, he was on the verge of manhood, and his father, older but tried in battle, left Gilneas to help defend the folk fleeing Lordaeron as the blight crept over it. There he met Baron Aarian of Hillsbrad, and in the heat of combat the two became friends. Sorely wounded when Dalaran fell, Voraigern returned to Justimar Hold even as Genn Greymane locked Gilneas away from the rest of the world for good.

Having seen the peril outside of their walls and convinced that Gilneas' insular nature could be its downfall, Vortagern arranged for his son to leave for the world outside to deal with real problems and see what relief he could bring to those outside of Gilneas. The young man fell in love with the world outside, he joined Baron Aarian's guardsmen and was eventually knighted for valorous service. He traveled the world, delving into places untrodden by men with hammer in hand and the Light in his heart. He found stalwart friends and a lady love and with them set out to make a name for himself.

It's somewhere around here that things became a blur in his mind. He remembers being sick, remembers the faces of those dear to him hovering over him, faces creased with worry, though as hale a man as he was, illness was a thing utterly alien to him.

He remembers war. He doesn't quite recall how he made his way to the front in the struggles against the Scourge and the Horde as a battle-priest of the Holy Light, but he remembers the day that he heard that Aarian's keep had fallen. . It was like being plunged into cold water, and he requested leave to return to the life he'd apparently left of his own volition what felt like ages ago.

The keep was razed, the folk that could having long since fled. He sought out his lord, his friends, his love, but it was as if they'd never been. He tried to return to Gilneas and finding the way as shut to him as it was to everyone else. He remained in Stormwind, his knighthood an empty title that he soon forsook. Absorbed in his work, but overwhelmed with the total loss of those most familiar and dear to him, he had almost convinced himself that he had been mad and imagined them when, while working at the forge one evening, he encountered a friend from his vanished past. The teary reunion that followed was joyful. His friends were still about, yes... Cindel was in the Mage Tower, nose always buried in a new book; Dorma was still hard at work gathering herbs and skulking about Stormwind, capricious as ever; Kier still roaming the wilds, showing encroaching humanoids the fury of a warden of the woods; Falaeli, his Falaeli, had joined another advnturing company in his absence and had developed a new zeal for exploring lost places. The whereabouts of the Baron and his advisor, the Kaldorei Aristocrat with the shifty eyes, were unknown.

The happiness the news brought him curdled to frustration- Cindel would not return his messages nor admit him for a visit; Dorma, never easy to reach, seemed to be even more scarce now, as was Kier. Falaeli alone responded to his letters, and between her responses and Lailia's accounts of her, Mileager knew that things had changed, and the change was like a knife twisting in his gut. He blamed his long absence, but tried to find a way to make things work. Her responses came farther between and fewer, until finally there was only an envelope with the engagement ring he'd given to her. He never saw her again, nor any of his other friends from his shining youth.

Mileager now makes his home in an austere office within the cathedral, the relics of his past given places of honor amidst the bookshelves that line his walls. He serves as a spiritual advisor for Paladins in training, reminding them that there is more to their calling than glory and smiting monsters, as a consultant in cases with rare and serious afflictions, an authority on the undead in their manifold forms as well as liason to the Argent Dawn, and as a healer of the sick and wounded, one who administers last rites over the dead.

He has made some new acquaintances around Stormwind, though nothing like the friends he once had. Still, weary though he is, he will not turn his back on his people, nor shrink from the duty he has accepted, and continues to protect and guide as he is certain the Light would have him do.

Recently, with the opening of the Dark Portal, Mileager has been called back into active service by the Argent Dawn and has been exploring the Outlands, gathering new data about life and the legion's influence in the other realm. He's found some of his old passion for adventure and feels that 'long bygone youthful vigor' once more. He has been observing the Draenei very closely and has come to admire the depth of their faith and their considerable prowess in channeling the Light.

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