|OOC Game Stats|
|Hair||dusty brown, always held up in a bun|
- Garments/Armor: Simple robes or clothes.
- Other: Appears to be rather plain. She wears a silver ring.
Quiet and inquisitive. Generally pacifist. However, she has a tendency to become irritated or frustrated at certain times; she does not have limitless patience as should be expected of priests of the Light. Nerit is often described as more liberal than her colleagues, but she does not - openly or otherwise - oppose the more conservative organizations and followers of the faith.
Nerit may also appear inexperienced with city life.
Born in the North, c.597, to a priest and a maiden, Nerit was brought up in a strict household. However, she was very close to her mother's sister and spent much of her time with her. Her older brother, Danel, encouraged by their father, was recruited to join the devout paladins. She never saw him again.
Circa the whisperings before the Third War, she was sent to Northshire Abbey for a good priestly training. After spending several years there, she was transferred to Stormwind Cathedral, where she now resides among the monastics as a nun.
Nerit rarely if ever brings up her past, more inclined to let things lie as they are.
Elior approached and put a large hand on his daughter's head. "The ship arrives."
The two made their way to Southshore's docks. With one small chest to load, it wasn't long before Nerit was onboard the merchant ship, waiting for the fishermen and traders to finish their business.
Aislin dropped to her knees in front of Nerit. They embraced. "Darling, your Aunt wanted you to have this," her mother whispered. Nerit felt something small and round pressed into her hand.
As her mother stood, she added, "Do not let your father see it." She looked down to see the silver ring with the garnet stag held in her fingers. She glanced up and watched as Aislin smiled at someone behind her. Knowing that look, Nerit did the only thing she could think of: she popped the ring in her mouth and held it under her tongue.
"What is your name, child?"
"Nerit. Nerit..." she paused, then clenched her jaw and looked up at the man. "Nerit Doherty."
The priest skimmed over the scroll she had given him. "It is written here you are from the Raycroft family," he said in a questioning tone. "My name is Nerit Doherty," she persisted, and twisted the silver ring around her finger.
Their eyes met. Then the priest nodded, dipped his quill in a nearby inkwell, and wrote down the name in an open book. "Welcome to Northshire Abbey, Nerit. We will begin your training tomorrow."