|Relative(s)||Amelia Goddard(Mother, Unknown, presumed deceased), Richard Goddard (Father, Unknown, presumed deceased)|
Basic Information (RP)Edit
Name: Asynja Darkeye
AKA: Asynja Goddard, Nynja, Asyn, Syn
Time of birth: Mid-Autumn, 5 Years after the opening of the Dark Portal
Age: 20 at time of death, 25 currently
Species: Forsaken Undead
Aptitudes and Personality (RP)Edit
Likes: Quiet contemplation, The sound of screaming enemies, The satisfaction of fully dominating Fel beings, Decay, The Void.
Dislikes: Most Undead (including most Forsaken), Foolish or unintelligent beings, Arrogant fools who look down upon the unliving simply for lacking a pulse.
Strengths: An indomitable will, A stubborn streak a mile wide, Notably Intelligent.
Weaknesses: Arrogance, a stubborn streak a mile wide, Contempt for most beings, Over-confidant, Lack of trust in others, Sometimes prone to over-analyzing situations
Personality: Asynja is the master of herself and all she perceives. There is little doubt in her mind that she is the best suited to lead, but she has no desire to rule nations. Quickly seizing the reigns of anyone who will allow her to do so, she does not brook any argument. If she asks for an opinion, she will consider it and take it to heart, even if she does not choose to follow it. If she asks an opinion, she clearly has decided to trust the individual she had asked. Any others who give an opinion, are below contempt.
Outlook:When not treading the line of Dominator and Dominated (i.e. delving into Demonology), Asynja enjoys little else in the world more than sitting in ruins and destroyed wilderness and contemplating the world. While she has little desire for the destruction of the world, or truly of any particular individuals or nations, she enjoys decay for its own sake. Unlike many of her Forsaken compatriots, Asynja holds no particular contempt for the living. Indeed, one of her closest companions is a Blood Elf, one of the few people in the world she trusts completely. Not even Humanity is particularly offensive to her tastes, she wishes humanity no more ill than what she wishes upon the other undead. Intelligence is her only concern. The dull-witted should be purged, and the intelligent should rule. Nothing more, nothing less. Race means little when compared to wisdom.
Opinions on the Various Races and Factions (RP)Edit
The Horde – “The Horde. Yes. Savage, noble. Wise, yet Barbaric. Ruled by the impetuousness of youth, yet ruled well. I have respect for the Horde as an organization, even if I do not have respect for all beneath its banner. I see merit to Lady Sylvanas’ pact with them. They do not know her treachery; they do not know her intent. At least, I think they do not. I have spoken with their leader, Thrall, and he seems wiser than most. I have my suspicions that he knows. He knows and he hopes. Naïve, but not without merit. This bears watching…”
- Orcs – “The Orcs were fools. They were lured to the demons and they submitted. Their warlocks were powerful, yet their will was weak. They have cast off their shackles, yes, but they have traded one binding for another. They seek to return to the ways of their ancestors, yet their ancestors were easily corrupted, easily defeated. While a noble pursuit, it would behoove them to instead invest their time into forming a new future, a stronger will to their people. Learn to control the darkness, rather than let the darkness control them.”
- Trolls – “The trolls have an odd cunning about them. While true masters of the arcane are rare among their kind, and the masters of the fel energies are nearly unheard of, their craftiness is foolhardy to disregard. Their kind seem to have an understanding of the darkest parts of the world, in a way that is both different and more ancient than those of the Undead. Their Voodoo is intriguing, and possibly worth looking into, should future events make such a venture possible. The presence of Shaman among their kind is a bit of a mystery to me, for, while their shaman are noticeably darker than those among other races, their obsession with nature and balance perplexes me. If they understand the Shadow, why do they also revere the dying and transient nature of the natural world?”
- Tauren – “These beasts are barely worth mentioning. They have no respect for the mystical arts, often to the point of decrying these practices among the other races. They obsess over nature and rut in the dirt, much like the animals they revere. They seek to ‘cleanse’ the land, not realizing that death and decay are the natural state of all things. They are brutish savages, and fools besides. Not worth the energy wasted to think about them.”
- Forsaken – “My people. Indeed. There are many who are beneath contempt who rally under the banner of Lady Sylvanas. There are, admittedly, some few who are worthy of respect, the Dark Lady being one of them. She seized power swiftly when it became available. She has proven herself wise and powerful, both are admirable. Most of all, she’s predictable. While she lacks little in intelligence, her methods are utterly obvious to any intelligent individual who cares to look. Nonetheless, she has proven to be a good leader for the motley individuals under her flag. I have no desire for the throne, so long as it is the hands of the powerful and the easily manipulated. For now, The Banshee Queen and her Forsaken have my allegiance, but none know what the future will bring.”
- Blood Elves - “I have long had relations with these Elves. In my breathing days, I often visited their kind with Alberic. I have always admired both their devotion to the arcane and their beautiful capital. Now that their source of power has been denied to them, their race have taken a new turn. They have turned to Fel entities and other means to claim their birthright. I have even seen proof of their capture and subjugation of one of the avatars of the much vaunted ‘Light,’ to which I can only laugh uncontrollably. They have left behind their old habits of druidism, having left that in their barbaric past where it belongs, and they have come to appreciate Power and Wisdom on levels that impresses even me. It is no coincidence that my only boon-companion calls these lands their own. The Blood Elves, in many ways, are closer kin to me, at least in my own mind. And, I would much rather spend my days in their lavish, if diminished, capital than huddling with the unwashed masses in the Undercity.”
- The Warsong – “These orcs are among the more respectable, even if they know not what they do. They rally against the Night Elves, who are the only race which I hold more contempt for than the Tauren. This enmity for these so-called Elves of the Night is not the only reason that they are respectable. Their love for destruction and deforestation are delightful. It enrages the nature-addled idiots among the Druids and Shaman of the world. It reveals the inherent entropy beneath all life. And most of all, you will never find a better companion for a raucous night out after a victory than among these warriors.”
- The Defilers – “The Defilers are not the most annoying of the Undead. Their love of destruction and death are admirable, if they are a little tunnel-sided in their targets. If they could be shown the value of death for all races, there could be hope for them yet. In the meantime, I shall use their cause as an excuse to further my own.”
- The Frost Wolf Clan – “I know little of these nature-loving fools, and from what I have heard so far, I have little interest in learning more. They are the worst of the Tauren and Night Elves, only with green skin.”
The Alliance – “Soft headed fools, almost to the man. The Alliance stands for all things righteous and noble, not realizing that these concepts are foolhardy ventures. They hypocritically claim to dominate and protect the land, yet they succeed at neither. Though I hold no ill will to any within the Alliance simply for their race or affiliation, there are few who escape my contempt through their own actions.”
- Humans – “I was once among their number, and I would be remiss to deny that I wish I needn’t have lost my pulse to learn what I have. I do not regret losing my Humanity, though I cannot claim to know how I would respond to the possibility of regaining it. The Human Race is one of stark contrasts. Most among them are simple peasants, who would be fortunate to have the intelligence to realize the misery of their existence, many are barely smarter than the beasts they tend. However, there are those among Humanity who are strikingly intelligent. While many of these bright stars are among the Magi of the various orders, my own homeland of Dalaran among them, there have proven to be those outside the Art who are also wise. I have heard that the King of Stormwind’s retainers exhibit both wise and benevolent leadership, which is unnecessarily kind, is still respectable. Speaking in generalities, I delight in the death and destruction of most of Humanity and its structures, and I have no qualms releasing the entropy in anyone or anything among them. Though, there are those whose wisdom would cause me to hesitate, or allow to live, if the mood suited me.”
- Dwarves – “These grubby little men are largely deplorable. While their mindless devotion to uncovering knowledge of their past is respectable, and their disregard for nature in the process is irrelevant, their obsession with the Holy Light, and sacred duty and all that rot makes them utterly disregardable. The cousins of the mountain folk, the Wildhammers deserve a special mention, as they are more closely tied to the land, which makes them even more contemptible than their mountain dwelling relatives.”
- Gnomes – “Now these tiny geniuses, on the other hand, are strangely intriguing. Sharply intelligent, with very few exceptions, these diminutive thinkers were well known to me in my breathing days. There were a respectable amount of their people present in Dalaran, and their mastery of the Arcane was surprising given their stature. They have always obsessed about all things intellectual, which I find very admirable, even if they miss the point of said knowledge, for if one knows things but does not use them for power, why bother raising one’s self from the dirt, as it were. Their interest in the Arcane are tempered with an obsession with Science. This is where my comprehension of the Gnomes begins to wane. Why one would forgo the simple and beautiful art of magic for the dirty and smelly tools of science has always eluded me. However, with their brilliant minds, the Gnomes have found ways for science to do things which previously was exclusively the purview of magic. Surprisingly, they have even found ways to do things with science that magic is either incapable of, or is simply too time consuming or difficult to achieve practically. Of all the races of the Alliance, the Gnomes are those with which I have the fewest complaints.”
- Night Elves – “Utterly forgettable. They do not realize the truth of life, namely death. They speak of cycles, yet they deny the darker parts of Life almost entirely. They wish to preserve their ancestral forests from corruption and decay. I say, if they wish to preserve their forests, they should remain in them. Less headaches for the rest of us, at least until they realize it’s too late and their forests are already rotten on the insides. *breaks into dark laughter*”
- Draenei – “Big blue beasts from beyond our world. Intriguing. Too bad that they are fools. The majority of their race became servants of the Burning Legion, powerful servants, but even the masters who are enslaved to a concept are still slaves. The small minority who did not prove weak enough to fall into the Legion’s clutches, fell to another form of servitude. They worship beings of Light, revere them above all others. They are worse than enslaved to a concept, they are enslaved by embodiments of these concepts. Their much vaunted Light is little more than a benevolent slave master. The rumors of Shaman among their ranks appears to be true, which only makes these fools seem even lower in my eyes.”
- The Silverwing Sentinels – “These Night Elves mean nothing more to me than their compatriots. They are stupid fools. The only thing that distinguishes them to me is they are frequent targets of the Warsong, to which I can only laugh.”
- The League of Arathor – “Foolish humans clinging to your forgotten history. Your nation is dead, allow the Decay to take hold and consign yourself to the darkness. Else, seize the power over your own destiny and forge ahead untethered to the Slave Master named Regret. Either way, your mission means nothing to me, except your demise. Make your choice fools, I shall consign your souls to the torment you imagine you already know, either way.”
- The Stormpike Guard – “These dwarves mean nothing to me. I do not like their kind. I do not care for those they fight against. I would kill their soldiers, yet I wouldn’t defend those they attack. They are simply part of the world around them, of no more importance than a tree or a rock.
- Dalaran – “While their continued existence within the Alliance fills me with disgust, I cannot deny a certain longing for my home within its walls. Their gates have been closed to me, possibly forever, simply because of my lack of breath. I hold within my heart, though I am loathe to admit it, that I hope for Dalaran’s rebirth and future prosperity. If only I knew what fate befell my former compatriots…"
The Others – “This world is large, and there are many things beyond the scope of the conflict between the Horde and the Alliance. I cannot claim to be an expert, nor to hold all the answers in regards to these beings, but I have studied much in my time, and I have met some of these things in person. I can only provide what I know and what I think...”
- The Steamwheedle Cartel – “These Goblins are fools at best, and cutthroats at worse. Either way, they are predictable. They are convenient allies, for they provide many valuable services. They cannot be trusted, but then again, neither am I. We have forged many mutually beneficial pacts in the past, and it is likely there will be many more to come. Mercenary to the core, the only difference between myself and their kind is that I have no care for coin.”
- The Venture Co. – “The counterparts to the Steamwheedle Goblins are just as cutthroat as their cousins, but they are twice as foolish. They destroy the land, which I cannot deny is amusing, yet they are violent and crass to a fault. Their kind is only valuable dead. Their souls serve me in death, their coin fills my purse and the Steamwheedle become easier for me to manipulate. Worth far more, indeed.”
- Tranquellien – “The encampment of Forsaken and Blood Elves in the Ghostlands are a respectable sort. They seek to destroy the Scourge and reclaim the power of Quel’Thalas. The former goal intrigues me, and the latter amuses me. All said, their town is nice to visit, especially because they adore my presence so much…”
- The Burning Legion – “The Legion can be two things. They can be masters, a route often taken by the weak-willed and foolish, or they can be slaves, which is reserved for the strong-willed and powerful. There is a complex hierarchy to the Legion, all of which boils down to those that rule and those that serve. All of their kind are slaves to some degree, all the way up to their leaders, who are slaves to their passions. Not one demon in the Legion are truly Masters, and as such serve best only when dominated by one outside the Legion itself. While they are slaves, Masters of their kind need be wary at all times, for they are crafty and covetous. They sense our power, and they want it for themselves, harkening to distant memories of their ancient freedoms. Never trust their kind, use them, but never, ever, think they are your friends, for that is the way they share their shackles with their former masters…”
- Forest Trolls – “The Trolls of the Forests are brutish and savage creatures. They lack the cunning and the strange wisdoms of their Darkspear relatives. They serve best when laying, unbreathing, at your feet. The fact that there is an ancient enmity between the Blood Elves and these Trolls is merely icing on an already appetizing cake.”
- High Elves – “There is little I can say about these rare and foolish throwbacks. When the Blood Elves collectively reclaimed their birthright, these fools claimed that the Sin’dorei were making a foolish mistake. While I cannot deny that some week willed fools have fallen prey to the wiles of the Legion, it is clear that the fortitude and willpower of the Elves have increased dramatically since the loss of their Sunwell. The foolish Quel’dorei cling do a dead history, rather than lament their pitiable state, they should take command and follow the example of their Blooded brethren and do something about it.”
- Ogres – “Large, stupid, brutes. The Ogres exemplify everything that is wrong with the ‘salt-of-the-earth’ types in this world and all others. How they managed to claim access to the Arcane Arts, I shall never know.”
- Satyrs – “While they have broken free from their barbaric past, these former Night Elves are strangely more contemptible than their primitive brothers. They have forsaken their Natural shackles and traded them for Fel shackles. They worship the Legion instead of the Wilds. Where the latter is foolish, the former is abominable. They deserve whatever fate befalls them.”
From the personal Memoirs of Asynja Darkeye-
“In life, I was known as Asynja Goddard. Born in the mountains near Andorhal, I quickly proved myself of possessing no small amount of talent in the arcane arts. My parents, the simple-minded peasants they were, did not know what to do about my talents, and they did all they could to inhibit my growth.”
“Thus forced into the mindless drudgery of farm work, I seemed destined for a long and miserable life, likely married of to some idiotic peon that my parents thought was a good match. I dreaded this future, but saw no other options available to one in my position. That is, until he came.”
“He was an envoy from the Mage-city, Dalaran, traveling to Silvermoon to entreaty the council there for some official business. He passed through Andorhal, and in what seemed an advantageous twist of fate, my mother had taken me with into the town for supplies. I know today that there are no such chances when one has talents in the Arcane. My latent abilities, combined with deep desire to escape my poor birth, conspired with fate to make my will a reality.”
“Within moments of spotting me, the envoy sensed my talents and approached my mother. Seeming to simply request some of the meager vegetables we had brought with us to trade, I knew that he sought to examine me closer. I recall being unable to hide my smile. He talked for a long time with my mother, I cared not for the specifics, for I sensed the power of this man. He practically oozed magic from his very pores, and I wanted it so badly that I could feel it on my tongue.”
“The man bought my mother’s vegetables, and paid far more than the half rotten things were worth. He also mentioned the need to hire a servant, to help him in his travels. He offered to take me on, as a paid servant, of course, in exchange for more gold for my family. He invited himself back to our farm later that day, so as to give my parents time to discuss this ‘business transaction.’”
“I regretted leaving the man’s side, but I knew that the time was not yet ripe. He would return that evening, and he would work his will over my simple-minded parents. They would get their pound of flesh, which would mean nothing to one who can create gold from empty air, and I would get my freedom. I had no doubt of this, and I proved to be correct in this assertion.”
“I left the next morning with this man. He introduced himself as Alberic, and he made it quite clear from moment one that he had taken me as his apprentice. He had no desire for my freedom, at least until I had proven capable enough in the Arts. I was to follow his every command, without question. I was no longer a peasant, nor a citizen of Lordaeron any longer. I was now part of the Nation of Dalaran, and I was not a citizen, nor would I be until I passed my tests. I cared not for any of this, not at that time. I was simply happy to be free of my parent’s hovel.”
“The following years were uneventful and grueling. After returning to Dalaran with Alberic after his mission to Silvermoon, he immediately put me to work. I cooked, I cleaned, I mended, but most of all, I learned. He taught me everything he could, and I was a very willing student. I consumed all knowledge that was set in front of me, with a voracious appetite of a starving man eating a meal.”
“Years passed, and the eve of my 18th summer arrived. I had blossomed into womanhood, and the time for my initiation was at hand. I had already proven to be first among my fellow students, top of my ‘class.’ There was little doubt in my Master’s mind that I would pass, and there was no doubt in my own. I attacked the exam with a voracious fire, burning through all obstacles, thinking through enigmas most mortals would never dream of and approaching it all with a calm and cold demeanor. I passed with flying colors, earning commendations from my testers. I was ready to take my place as a full citizen of Dalaran.”
“Sadly, it was not to last. A scant few years after my citizenship, the troubles began.”
“Years of relative peace had reigned over the lands of Azeroth since closing of the Dark Portal, and the end of the Second War. It all came crashing to a close when the Legion and its abominable Scourge came to consume the land. The Plagues spread swiftly, more swiftly then the wisest of Dalaran could keep abreast. Our top researchers were set to discovering a cure for the plague or, at the very least, its cause. We did all we could, and yet it was not enough. We watched and listened as the Paladins of the Silver Hand tried and failed to end the plague. We watched and listened as the crown prince himself fell to the Lich King’s influence. We watched and listened as he led the Scourge’s armies to the front gates of Dalaran. I watched and listened as the Kirin Tor failed to halt Arthas’ advance.”
“I was no fool. I fought alongside my fellow citizens throughout the initial assault. I fought with a fervor and a passion to save my home. I saw the end, however. When Arthas broke through our defenses, despite our best efforts, I knew that my time in that beautiful city was over. Many of us fled, knowing the day was lost. Many more stayed. I admire the courage of those who remained behind, but I do not admire their foolishness.”
“I traveled the breadth of Lordaeron, I was heading for Silvermoon and an acquaintance I had made there, I hoped for sanctuary. In my travels, I had the dubious honor of witnessing the worst of the plague. I killed many of the Scourge, sometimes in retribution for my fallen home, sometimes to cleanse the lands of their corruption, but mainly I did it to vent my growing anger. I cursed the name of Arthas, who had took my new and wonderful home. I cursed the names of the fools who failed to stop Arthas. I cursed the Kirin Tor for failing to prevent the destruction of Dalaran. But, most of all, I cursed my own failure. I had power, but it was not enough. I had thought I had a lifetime, maybe longer, to hone my power and perfect my craft. The carpets had been pulled out from under me, now, and I had no one to blame but my own short comings.”
“I know not what would have happened if I had not stopped in that village. If I had not, in my rage and exhaustion, ordered that food. If I had not thought to conjure my own food, or simply cleanse that which was brought to me. I consumed the food, down to the final crumb of bread. I know not what would have happened, but I know what did happen.”
“The following weeks were the worst of my memory. Days after that fateful meal, I began to feel terribly ill. It took no spell, no hint of detection, for me to deduce what had happened. I had proven myself the fool I accused myself of being. I had the plague. I knew there was no hope of stopping it, I had no cure, and even if I did there was no time to administer it. Those who caught the plague were almost always dead in days, never longer than a week. I began to prepare for the inevitable. I buried my most prized possessions, in hope that one day I would be free to return for them. Sadly, in the terrible fever that followed over the following days, my recollection of this cache’s location was lost to me.”
“I recall my final moments clearly. The fever broke, for what I knew was the last time. I saw the fire I had ignited the night before, and how it had been extinguished. I saw the trees around me, how they had already begun to die from their own version of this horrible plague. I my final moments, a clarity struck me. All things decay, all things slide into the emptiness of the Void, in short, everything dies. Life is nothing but denial of Truth. I strangely brought me peace as the darkness claimed me.”
“My next conscious moment came in a crypt beneath the ruins of Deathknell. I was greeted by the other Forsaken, and my new found freedom was explained. I grudgingly accepted my new presence in the Forsaken, though the Undead, Forsaken or Scourge, fill me with as much contempt as most of my kind feel toward the living. I spent the early weeks of my new found freedom adapting to my new life. I found that the Arcane arts held little draw to me any longer, instead I turned my will towards dominating the fel energies that the Legion used to create such a mighty thing as the plague. I would not serve them, but I would use their power to realize the Fate of all living things. Death.”
“After many weeks, I received a message from Silvermoon. I had heard of the Blood Elves, and the new outlook of the denizens of Silvermoon, I could respect this new view. This message, though, it changed things entirely. She was still alive. Lilandaul, the young elf I had met in Silvermoon all those years ago, had taken up the mantle of the Blood Knights. These Knights are the Blood Elves’, admittedly darker, version of the vaunted Paladins. Intrigued, I journeyed to Silvermoon in person and met with my former acquaintance. She swiftly proved to be both competent and of a comparable mindset to my own, leading me to accept her offer of boon companionship. Lilandaul has proven to be of the trustworthy sort, and she has never mislaid my own trust in her. In a world full of enemies, I admit to enjoying having one to watch my back, as any idiot knows I cannot do with my own fel servants, whom would betray me in a moment’s notice if they sensed weakness.
Specializations and ProfessionsEdit