Brian Rimeshade Edit
Name and Title Edit
Sorcerer Brian Rimeshade
Physical Traits and Appearance Edit
Thin and fairly short in stature at a miniscule 5'6" or so with long, brown hair, gentle, feminine features and heavily kohl-rimmed, kind eyes that glow gently. He is around 100 years old which would be the equivilent of late teens/early twenties in Human terms and has the looks of someone in their late teens but has the cynicism of someone much older.
He has a polite accent and is well spoken although his tendancy to verbosity and linguistic flights of fancy may prove trying for less patient people, tends to use mild swear words frequently especially if in the company of people who dislike it.
Race and Class Edit
Powers and Skills Edit
Arcane Magic - Frost magic, some utility magic.
Arcane Strength - Arcane power focused inwards to make up for his lack of physical strength and allow him to wear heavier armour and fight.
Arcane Intuition - Years of exposure to Arcane magic and a result of being hit by so many conflicting energies throught his life have left Brian with a tendency to have hunches about future possibilities, unfortunatly most of these are possibilities that exist in other worlds and or universes so their use is rather suspect.
'Ebon Battlemagic - 'Sword enchants, sword spells and transmutation magic to shield.
Ebon Runic Magic - Raising Ghouls and transmuting flesh.
Illusion - A pinch of charisma and a trick of the mind allows Brian to craft illusionary appearances and creatures.
In addition, his diplomatic, open-minded nature combined with his easy-going charisma tends to attract unlikely as well as likely allies. Although these allies are typically behind-the-scenes comrades, they provide Brian with a valuable insight into other cultures and the mindsets of others, granting him a more compassionate and sympathetic attitude to what he refers to as "fellow outsiders". As of now his current allies comprise;
The Timbermaw Furbolg
The Shattered Sun Offensive
The House of the Arcane Contraption (minus Mememgem)
The Darkspear Trolls
Pro-Thrall Segments of the Orcish Community
The Forsaken (minus the R.A.S.)
Numerous Alliance Ambassadors
Peddlefeet the Goblin - A flying Goblin with a bow that he claims can make people fall for each other.
Coyote - A Spirit Beast with a wicked sense of humour and a penchant for trickery. Currently haunting Brian's hat.
Wee Grem - A young Orcish orphan with an insatiable curiousity and high intellect adopted by Brian.
Murray - A floating, talking skull. Claims to be evil, he's not really.
Sheila - Brian's trusty Talbuk.
Umi the Water Elemental - The Watery Ginger Rogers currently in the care of Aireden Rosenkreutze.
Locutus - Albino Blue Drake, currently in rehabilitation for dust abuse.
Catsper - Spirit Feline, retired to Moonglade along with...
Vyerna - Wind Serpent spirit, claimed to be related to Arikara...wasn't really.
Macavity - Eversong Lynx, now being cared for by the Farstriders.
Dogmeat - Wrong game....
Born to Quel'dorei parents Bricuru Rimesun and Lacrimosa Starshade, Brian was left swaddled in blankets at the tender age of four weeks outside the gates of Dalaran. His parents, a Diviner father and a Battlemage Mother, were each supersticious individuals, obsessed with foretelling and prophecy. When Lacrimosa fell pregnant with Brian, her second child, they immediately sent for a Tarot reading from one of the Elder Diviners within the Magisterium. The Diviners cards revealed The Fool and The Moon, foretelling an Elf with a great curisoity and penchant for tricks but also possessing a chaotic nature, whimsical and unpredictable.
Bricuru recognised the combination of chaos and wisdom as being the tell tale signs of a magister fallen to warlockery. Terrified at introducing the "fel ways", as he called them, into Quel'dorei society, he and Lacrimosa decided to leave the child in the care of the Wizards and Sorcerers at Dalaran.
Early Life Edit
Raised in Dalaran by a motley assortment of Half-Elves, Humans and High Elves. Learned the Arcane Arts at a young age but never really used them on their own, he always wanted to combine them with martial practices which were a hobby of his during his teenage years, resulting in him growing into a fine young Elf standing at over six foot in height with a strong, muscular build and powerful well muscled limbs.
Eventually more Arcanists began to take up the blade along with magic, forming the core of the Battlemagi of the Kirin Tor, holding small duel events between each other with bets being taken, using rare reagents as gambling currency.
It was during one of these tournaments that Brian met a young Elven Transmuter Battlemage named Ren'dyth, he was a fantastically handsome Elf with fair features and a slender, yet muscular build. Every year the pair would be the two to compete in the finals and every year Brian emerged victorious, he was not a good winner, regularly scoffing at Ren'dyth and jibing at his school of magic choice, asking him is he'd ever thought of transmuting himself into something more useful.
One year, in Brian's 30th year, things took a different turn. Ren'dyth and he got to the finals as usual but this time something was different, Ren'dyth had a nasty gleam in his eyes and a confidence that hadn't been there before. During the duel, just as it looked as if Brian was to win again Ren'dyth lashed out with a Transmutation spell of such magnitude it transformed the prize money in a pool of custard and several of the nearby benches into Gnomish accountants.
The spell hit Brian square in the chest, sending him reeling to the ground. Howling in agony Brian could feel the spell warping him, his muscles faded away, thinning down to a much below average size, his height shrunk rapidly to a mere five and a half feet from his previous six feet two, his build shrunk to fit his new height, his once tanned skin tunred deathly pallid and his body burnt with pain as the spell left him leaving black, kohl-like rings around his eyes.
Staggering to his feet, Brian leaned on his blade, unable to lift it, his armour fell off from around him leaving him standing in a now baggy jerkin and pants, he croaked a congratulations to Ren'dyth and staggered to his quarters, throwing his now thin, small and girlish frame onto his bed and falling into a deep sleep for a week, waking only to vomit out the excess contents of his now shrunken stomach.
It was this event that marked a turning point for Brian, no longer the mighty Battlemage, no longer the constant winner, the pain of failure had made him re-evaluate how he had treated those who had failed before. It sparked off a sense of compassion and sympathy that had long been buried by his pompousity, this sense of empathy grew over time to allow him to become the more compassionate and diplomatic individual he is today, though the odd burst of impatience and nastiness still escapes when dealing with the ignorant, foolish and power-hungry.
Learning His Craft Edit
The field of the Battlemage now seemingly closed to him permenently, Brian was taken in by a Gnome by the name of Violet Nimblefingers, a middle aged lecturer in the Illusion school of magic. At first Brian was uneasy at such a notion, thinking he had to merely excite the molecules of the air, freeze the water vapour in the atmosphere or bombard his foes with kinetically charged particles to get his way around things.
It wasn't until Violet showed him the arts of Illusionary disguises and obfuscation that Brian took a serious interest, deception was something he had found he was developing a knack for, to compensate for his rapid loss of strength and swordsmanship.
Professor Nimblefingers taught him all he needed to know of the mind of sentients, of how to craft illusionary versions of his already known battle spells, spells that simply crafted the image of the spell and sent it at the foe, then overloaded their sensory system with messages that the spell was a real one and would hurt them badly, causing them to injure themselves psychosomatically. For those fos with a strong mind and will, there were always the real versions of the spells in his repertoire, although they were more taxing on his energy, he lacked the vigour he once enjoyed prior to what he now referred to as "The Ren'dyth Incident"
Graduated with a Second band, higher level in Illusion and Battle magic, the second highest level of degree available from Dalaran. Ren'dyth graduated alongside him, earning a First band with distinction in Warmagery, Battlemagic and Transmutation, the highest possible degreee Dalaran could offer.
Brian spent the remainder of the next few decades teaching Illusion magic in various Human, Gnome and Dwarvish colleges. Spent several years in an Orcish internment camp trying to ascertain the cause of their apathy and learn their language in exchange for making life more comfortable for them in whatever way he could, usually involving smuggling in conjured sweetmeats and ale.
Post Third War and the Sunwell Disaster Edit
Returned to Silvermoon to aid in the rebuilding of the city and the education of new Magisters, struggled with his magic withdrawl through meditation and the use of the newly invented Sunwell Ring items.
After the resotation of the Sunwell he returned more often to Silvermoon, the temptation to use the fel crystals now gone as his addiction was sated by the newly restored Arcane and Light energies of the Sunwell.
Accidentally created a lifeform when his Magitech Armour creation was stolen by a Half Elf theif who was captured and killed by Dwarvish mercenaries on the slope of Alterac, after which his armour which had accuired a degree of sentience from the times it was worn by Brian took the body as its own, fusing itself to it and forming a kind of sentient armour but with a body to move and communicate with.
Taking the name Thaum, the armour spent a few months with Brian in Dalaran before setting off on a "journey of discovery" around Kalimdor.
Served as a Drakerider and dogsbody in the Warsong Defensive where his opinions of the Horde dropped to new lows after witnessing the communal savagery displayed by them after every victory.
Depressed and drained he visited his old master Grimm Onearm in the House of the Arcane Contraption, he was last seen flying one of the Skychaser Corsairs zeppelins into the deserts of Silithus alone.
After crashing the zeppelin in a freak sandstorm, one of the devices he had retrieved from Mememgem's "graveyard" began to pick up faint traces of a slightly technomagically tinged type of arcane magic, a kind Brian hadn't observed anywhere outside of his own experiments into magitech armour and by extension his creation Thaum.
Excited at the prospect of meeting up with his "son" after such a long time, Brian set off in the direction of the energy, on the outskirts of Hive Re'gal, running over the uneven sand, slipping past silithid by smearing himself in their...juices, he saw a shape up ahead, seemingly sitting down, smiling he slowed down and walked up to the figure raising a hand in greeting.
The figure remained still.
Undeterred Brian conjured an arcane flare of light and gazed down at the figure. It was Thaum alright, or it had been. Thaum's armour was rent asunder. Huge gashes tore through it like a grotesque game of tic-tac-toe, a sickly pale lylac liquid seeped from the multitude of wounds, his arms and legs were twisted and torn, his left leg crushed utterly leaving only a shattered mess of metal and arcane liquids. In his hand he held his old notebook that he always had carried to satisfy his insatiable curiousity. His face was contorted in an odd display of shock and bewilderment, a long gash ran down his face, removing several of his teeth on the way down.
Brian staggered back, assailed by an array of negative emotions, shock, sadness. Shaking he picked up the notebook and flicked to the last entry;
"Strange creatures, they resemple the Quiraji father spoke of once, perhaps I could bring back some samples, father mentioned the possibility of another Quiraji threat, perhaps I can show my loyalty to Mr Gremkarc and father's other friends. I believe that larger one would suffice...I shall attempt to subdue it directly..."
Pocketing the notebook, Brian's being flared with rage and torment, all pretence and illusions dropped from him, his eyes flared a violent, stormy sapphire, his gentle countenance grew grim and serious, arcane energies coruscated up and down his body. Letting out an anguished howl he charged into the nearby Hive Re'gals vast outer area and unleashed a storm of arcane fury fueled by little more than rage and hatred.
Two days he awoke in the Cenarion Hold, every fibre of his being aching, his mind fuzzy and unfocused. His display had been seen by a scout who had summoned a party of outriders to scout the area, they found him lying, unconcious and drained surrounded by hundreds of carapace fragments and broken chitin. Though unnerved by the desolation in the area, they remembered him from the work he had done for them in the past brought him back to the Hold to recuperate.
Three days later the forces of the Alliance and Horde arrived to combat a rising threat from the Silithid. Brian helping in whatever capacity he could, mainly as a go-between and diplomat between the factions as his magic was severly drained by his outburst earlier.
Post Silithus War Edit
After the Silithus War was won, Brian returned to Dalaran to rest, struggling to keep up the pretence of the amiable rogue when he really felt nothing but undirected rage and hatred. Emotions fought with reason within him as he struggled to maintain control of his temper, for one name always stuck out in his mind, one person who had tried to slaughter his "son" not long after he was discovered, one person who possessed neither the intellect or the open mindedness to attempt to comprehend anything new, one person Brian would attempt to slay without mercy unless he could keep his emotions buried..
Gremkarc of Orgrimmar.
Getting one of his many contacts to act as a proxy, Brian issued a challenge to the aforementioned Gremkarc, to be held at the Orgrimmar arena.
Marching into the Arena proud and tall with three members of his clan flanking him, Gremkarc brandished his spiked fist weapons and walked into the arena to be confronted by...a gnome...in a voodoo mask. The gnome proceeeded to berate Gremkarc for his treatment of Elves and Arcane practitioners before dropping her disguise and revealing herself to be Brian.
Pointing at Gremkarc dramatically, the air took on an almost eldritch, heavy feel, emotions were tense, the two figures, one scrawny and pretty, the other muscular and gruff, stared at each other in silence. Brian eventaually broke the silence,
"Gremkarc of Orgrimmar, I challenge you.....to an Elvish card game!"
Taking advantage of the confusion Brian tossed a deck of cards to Gremkarc and proceeded to narrowly defeat him in a game of Elvencard (tm), resuting in Gremkarc becoming quite irate and his clan members quite amused.
His lust for revenge sated by this simple act, Brian spent some time in SIlvermoon or Dalaran reprising his role as a whimsical, obfuscatingly stupid Sorcerer, prone to dressing up as a postmaster and stealing other people's letters, of which he then distributes the most amusing.
Some may find it odd that such a meagre act could sate such a temper but it was less in the act itself and in the result it had that made it enough to satisfy Brian, it pricked Gremkarc's ego, it slapped him down a peg, deflated him if only for a moment and raised a level of disrepectfulness on which Brian thrives when his trusted lieutenants laughed at Gremkarc for his reaction to the challenge.
Months past, his friends moved on to other things, old accquaintances left to hunt treasure in the bowels of the dungeons of Northrend. Mental illnesses spread through Silvermoon causing uncontrolled jumping and people speaking gibberish.
Feeling low, Brian pondered the point of it all anymore, no-one to talk to outside of his guild, no intrigue, petty arguments between factions rumbled on with ponderous inevitability whilst the Scourge poised to strike. Lacking any real power to change any of this and not knowing how to Brian left once more on a journey around Azeroth, eventually ending up at his old stomping grounds - The House of the Arcane Contraption where he spent many months tinkering and researching some of the new theoretcial ideas put forward by the very "best" Goblin and Gnomish minds, applying his own penchant for inspiration to make his own "unique" takes on the persperation of the original theorists.
During his stay here he heard word from his fellow inventors of strange natural phenomena, tectonic movements where there were no plates to move, rumblings that lasted mere seconds. Intrigued Brian gathered his belongings and returned to Orgrimmar, determined to use both his arcane and technomagical lore to discover the causes of the disturbances. Knowing full well that he would never be able to perform his work whilst a member of an Orc-led clan, he remained clandestine, furtively taking measurements and readings from areas of Azeroth with little success.
Stumped, confused and annoyed he returned to Northrend to aid the Argents.
Discovery, allies and premonitions.Edit
Unable to let go of his previous research into the strange geological disturbances, Brian travelled to various areas in Kalimdor, Azshara, Desolance and The Barrens, to try and retake some of his readings. It was then that his own Sorcerous training kicked in and he felt the full force of the disturbance, an emotional punch of loss, despair, fear and anger that lasted mere seconds but knocked him off his feet.
Unequipped, untrained and unprepared to explain such an occurance and lacking the ability to communicate with the earth in any real way he sought advice from a young Shaman he had spoken to on occasion, armed with renewed conviction when the young Shaman expressed their own concerns he recruited a fellow Mage to aid him in his investigations.
So far the two have discovered little more than some strange force that resists all their attempts at scrying and so the pair now aim to gather many different people from all walks of magic and all races to attempt and unwravel the mystery once and for all. They know the path is long and dangerous, they know that they will likely be mocked by other Arcane users and dismissed by Shamanic and Druidic casters, but a mixture of fear and determination drives them onwards...
Return to the Frozen Wastes.Edit
Rimeshade returned to Northrend to partake in minor sorites against Icecrown, usually rescue missions in the Saronite quarries. Exposure to the ore for so long began to play on his fears and mind, constantly bringing up images of destruction and death, nightmares where the world he called his home was unrecoignizable, where Trolls fell to the lure of the fel and strange beastmen gnawed the flesh of his allies.
Due to these problems, Rimeshade was forced to take an extended break in Dalaran, missing the assault on Icecrown that finally brought the Lich King's reign to an end It was in Dalaran that he trained and honed his Battlemage abilities to be ready for the coming storm he was convinced was more than animated paranoia.
He collected his old armour from the stores of Dalaran and had it reforged into a mix of a cloth undercoat with plate parts strapped over it. Focusing his arcane magics inward and honing some short-ranged fire magic, Rimeshade took up his old blade and returned to Azeroth, determined yet frightened, ready to face whatever might happen.
The Convocation ScatteredEdit
Prior to the Shattering, Rimeshade had been defending Thunder Bluff alongside the Red Jackle Brigade, Dagger and Totem and a handful of other defenders.
After the first wave of Elemental invaders, Brian began to hear unfamiliar voices through his guild communication channel, threats and warnings punctuated with the odd whimper or cry of pain. A cultured, yet rather manic, voice seemed to be the ringleader amongst them, however, Brian was unable to discern their name or their position due to the sheer level of external confusion caused by the encroaching Elementals and the amount of voices from his communication channel.
With a final warning from Thoro'dias, telling him not to return to Silvermoon under any circumstances, warning him of the Magisterium's betrayal and of Magisterium agents that were being sent to "deal" with all Convocation members, Brian turned off his communication device and returned to the grim task of defending the Bluffs from assault.
The Shattering occurred rather rapidly from Brian's perspective. He had just taken part in the final defence of Thunder Bluff and was flying with his apprentice, Wee Grem, in tow towards Winterspring to collect some medical supplies from a Goblin contact he'd had dealings with during his stint with the Technomagi of the House of the Arcane Contraption.
During the flight, air elementals howled and battered at his Wind Rider, mountains seemed to lash out in all directions, a driving rain blinded him and his mount driving them completely off course into the wilds of Azshara.
Awakening several hours later, Brian surveyed the surrounding area. His Wind Rider was dead, it's neck broken from the crash, his apprentice was nowhere to be seen. Frantically Brian searched the surrounding area for the young Orc until he discovered him facing off against a Naga raiding party. The young Orc had only the broken shaft of his polearm for defence and looked terrified. Brian gritted his teeth and staggered forwards, unleashing all his energy into a single blast of flame which incinerated two of the Naga and sent the rest fleeing to their hovel.
Exhausted, worn and injured Rimeshade collapsed to the ground, Wee Grem dashed to him and helped him to sit up whist patching him up as best he could.
"You stupid...I could have," the Orc stammered.
"I...couldn't...take that risk..." the Elf smirked.
"No you couldn't, could you? Sorcerer Rimeshade, Battlemage, Illusionist and all around waste-of-space," an unfamilar, icy and cutting voice sneered, "To think that an illusionist fell for that little display, hmm?"
A tall, thin, saturnine figure stepped forwards, out of the nearby foliage, he wasn't hidden, he had been there the whole time, he just made his presence seem inconsequential, one of the simplest tricks of the illusionist.
"Now I don't expect you to know who I am, but I do know you, Sorcerer Rimeshade, may I?", the figure stepped forwards and reached a slender, gloved hand into Brian's tunic, withdrawing his guild communicator.
"Hah! A marvel isn't it? Wonderful for long-distance communication...and of course tracking.", the figure's smirk slowly faded into a humourless grimace, "it has been most enjoyable watching you try so hard to be a fighter and a mage, a father figure and yet so callow yourself, a member of the Horde whilst still loyal to your people. It ends now of course, that much you would have surmised."
The Elf clicked his fingers, there was a brief feeling of distortion and dizziness and a swirling portal appeared, two large figures emerged from the portal, each heavily armed and armoured.
"I would have like to have dealt with you myself, however, this deep into Horde territory I can't take any chances and make an enemy of the Horde by slaying one of their ambassadors now can I?", the Elf turned on his heel and nodded at the two recently arrived figures, "Finish him quickly please, he deserves a clean death, he is a mage after all".
The two larger figures nodded and moved forwards, one was quite clearly Human, a mercenary at that, he had a rather chiselled and handsome face for a Human but his eyes were dark, sharp, cruel. The other figure was different, she was a large, muscular Orc with pallid skin and glowing blue eyes, evidently a Death Knight or some form of necromantic entity. Her stare was different, it was more measured, stoic and calm.
Wee Grem dashed at the Orc trying to push her back, screaming about honour and duty, the Orc Knight gave the adolescant a slightly sad look and waved her hand gently, sapping his energy and causing him to collapse to the ground, ennervated.
The Orc waited until the young apprentice had fallen unconcious before removing a small orb, runed with frost and unholy runes, from her pocket, she slowly muttered some harsh chants and the orb began to glow with a faint purple and blue corona. She pointed it at the Human.
The Human rushed, Rimeshade could barely react, the blade entered his chest and pierced his heart in one single movement, a crackling corona of purple and blue energy enveloped both the Human and him, the orb shattered, the Orc gave a humourless smile, his vision went dark.
Rimeshade looked around, it was dark, there was no sound, no feeling. He could see about 4 feet in every direction but nothing else. He could hear voices, soft, echoing voices, fading in and out like an old memory.
Stand up Rimeshade! No slouching! Now, show me a reverse swing cryoslash! No! A REVERSE swing! Not an angled swing! Forget it! You'll never be a battlemage, you're too feckless! You're too weedy now too! Out of my course!
You can do this one Brian, just focus, insinuate yourself into the images mindset, take on the persona of the illusion and you can master it. Well done!
*Grunt*, Rimeshade, you may be undisciplined and you may be a pain and you may be disruptive, but you are a good grunt.
My faith in the Light is no more absurd than your faith in the Arcane Brian! How dare you mock me!
Why not just say magic can't do everything?
The Orc Knight appeared in front of him with a crackling sound.
Time to wake up Elf, I know you've heard this one a hundred times before but...it is not yet your time...mortal.
Brian jerked back to conciousness and lunged at the Human before him and grabbed him by the throat, icy tendrils of mist seeped through his hands and into the Human's blood. Rimeshade stopped. The Human was already dead but his sword was still through his heart. Rimeshade looked at his hands, they were the usual palour, however, they were also deathly cold. He stared at the Orc, at the now awake and groggy Wee Grem and back to the Human.
The Orc Knight nodded to him and offered him a hand up.
Rimeshade stumbled up, "What..what...I was, voices, Professor Nimblefingers, Battlemage Alaton, Gremkarc...Aenor, Edanna? You!"
The Orc Knight looked away and turned back to him, "You were already dying Ambassador Rimeshade, defending your young Orc charge pushed your already damaged body over the edge. The Magister would have been just hastening your death slightly. Good thing his knowledge of anatomy is lacking, hmm?"
Brian looked dumbly at the Orc, "I don't understand...why?" he asked.
The Orc shrugged, "I wasn't told, you and other Convocation members were all selected as targets, I known not why. With the Lich King gone I've been making a living as a hired-blade, when I saw it was you, I felt I should help. You probably don't remember me, In life, I was one of the Orcs at the internment camp you used to visit all those years ago, the one you used to try and learn Orcish off? I remember you simply due to your lack of rancour and...kindness I suppose during those days."
Rimeshade stared at the Orc, slowly remembering the days of his youth, "Sharna? This is daft, the real world doesn't work like this, chance encounters don't just magically occur at opportune moments!".
"Hardly opportune", Sharna smirked, "I've been keeping an eye on you ever since I saw you working with the Ebon Blade and Argents in Northrend, by my count I've saved you...57 and a half times so far. You didn't honestly think you survived that last Elemental attack out of dumb luck did you?"
Brian thought back, "I thought that was Hodges..."
"Oh it was, most of the time, however, even an old soldier like him can't be everywhere at once," Sharna smirked.
"Well...I, thank you...", Rimeshade stammered.
"For damning you? I am sorry, I couldn't save you from crashing and I couldn't save you from the Magister, however, I have given you a second chance, that is the best I can do and all I can do..."
Brian glanced into a nearby pool of glimmering water at his now sapphire-eyed relfection, "Dying pointlessly in Azshara versus living on in undeath...I think I know what I'd pick, I'm not some teenage Elf angsting over life, Sharna, I have another chance now, and I know what I'm going to do with it."
Sharna looked up, "Oh? Where will you go?"
Rimeshade clenched his fists, "There was a clan I was once part of, a proud and honourable one at that, I left to fullfill my own selfish wants and needs, I frittered away my time and energy on solitary junkets. I will return to them and see if they'll have me. A second chance to do things right this time."
Sharna nodded, "That sounds like the Elf I remember," know this Brian, you aren't alone, your diplomatic works, your compassion, they don't go as unnoticed as you think...the warrior may have the short-term glory but the diplomat has the long-term satisfaction."
With that, Sharna gave a crisp salute and whistled, a large, ragged Wind Rider landed beside her as she clambered onto it's back.
Brian nodded at her and gave a quick salute back. Wee Grem walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulder, "You're still my teacher, you're still the same Elf, if you'll still want the hassle of having someone who needs to eat around...I'm not going anywhere."
Rimeshade smiled slightly at his apprentice and nodded gratefully, iIt was time to face this new era, through fresh eyes and without fear. No more running. No more distractions.
Returning to the ClanEdit
Assistant Librarian of Dalaran
Engineer (former, now strictly theoretical)
Collector of Scrolls
Member of the Wizards' Council.
Aiding and abetting a young teenage "criminal" street urchin
Allowing several rare volumes of Abjuration magic to become heavily FOxed
"Stealing" some items from Memegem's laboratory
Tampering with the mail
Suspected of the theft of several pages from Archmage Vargoth's Journal
Friends and Relationships Edit
- Lacrimosa Starshade - Mother (Unknown, presumed dead)
- Bricuru Rimesun - Father (Unkown, Presumed dead)
- Amertsu Rimeshade - Older Sister (Unkown)
- Bricne Rimeshade - Younger Brother (Undead, slain by Amertsu)
- Cistel Silverwing - Ex-fiance
- Watrus, Edanna, Kitirra, Valdine (deceased), Ursala Earthwielder - Close friends
- Ravange, Sateal Emberheart, Corelei Dawnbreak, Ivynne. Sunbeam - Accquaintences
- Gremkarc of Orgrimmar - Shaman, has a mask.
- Thaum - "Son" (deceased)
- Aurielle - Apprentice - Graduated.
"Shall we see then? Strip away all assumptions of virtue, strip away all thoughts of altriuism...gaze deep into the very heart of mortals and you shall see naught but selfish desire and one-up manship, we are all bastards to a person and anyone who makes claims to the contrary is either hopelessly naive or plain stupid."
"There is a fine line between genius and madness, I find dancing on top of said line teetering precariously towards oblivion to be the most stimulating course."
"Better to live in a world of chaos than to live where every detail is precisley calibrated."
"I find that "magic" is a convenient word often used by the ignorant to describe what they cannot fathom, they'd rather believe a fireball was conjured from nothing rather than consider how arcane energy can affect the molecules that surround and build them."
"I know a little of everything and a lot of nothing, I am the Elven factiod machine, my mind is perfectly designed for pubbe quizes and everyday bluffing but falls short when anything important arises."
"We cannot win divided in such petty ways. Only by working together can we overcome, only through understanding can we live peacefully side by side, at least that is my hope..."
"HIT HIM WATRUS!"
"You're about as much use as a celebate prostitute."
"You lie and deceive...to build trust? I like the oxymoron..."
Personal Notes Edit
His voice is hard to describe without examples so he sounds like this - http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=pJvZMKZ96W8
Obligatory Theme Song -Underdog
Mary Sue test score: 10
TV Tropes that fit him (idea shamelessly stolen from Aenor's page);
Obfuscating Stupidity (To a ridiculously high degree)
Pintsized Powerhouse (Magically enhanced but still...)