Corelei stands at a little over five feet in height, a mop of newly dyed chesnut hair hanging loose to somewhere beneath her shoulder blades. She appears thin, bordering on the scrawny side, and chooses to bulk up her appearance with the various layers of leather and silk that she uses as armour. When she allows herself to be seen in cities, she is usually wearing a nondescript set of brown fatigues, the neckline and waist adorned with small silver studs. She flits between appearing ridiculously unsettled (she's been called a "flighty little madam" on too many occassions) or utterly focused. This tens to depend on what stage her latest ore transaction is at.
Outwith city boundaries she is rarely seen without her faithful wolf, Ruthven - a huge grey beast, shaggy of coat and slobbery of jaw. Despite his advancing years he is deceptively fast - which is useful considering the trouble Corelei usually gets herself into.
Race and Class Edit
OOCly, Sin'dorei Rogue.
ICly, she is currently working under Farstriders offshoot unit, deployed to Northrend as a "scout" (in the loosest sense of the word). She tends to end up with reconnaissance work, and has orders to use her blades "whenever it is deemed appropriate". Given the current situation in Northrend, "appropriate" seems to be all the time. She has huge, almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the outdoors and living off the land, (in no small part due to the years spent traversing Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms gathering every ore under the sun), and this was one of the deciding factors in being chosen to move north. That, and she's pretty handy with a blade or two.
Corelei is a reasonably successful ore trader, specialising in Saronite and Titanium. She bases herself in Orgrimmar, rationalising that the easy trade routes from the zepplins to Northrend and Eastern Kingdoms, as well as the regular ships from nearby Ratchet are as good a reason as any. When someone once asked why she doesn't work from Undercity, she simply replied "too damp".
She has recently taken up jewelcrafting - the number of gems she found whilst mining were taking up too much space in her vault, but she was too enamoured by the sparkles to sell them on. When she's not out on some remote crag hacking away at a lump of rock, she can sometimes be found sitting on an Orgrimmar rooftop, attempting to fix something stupidly valuable into something ridiculously delicate. She has varying degrees of success with this endeavour.
Father - Jarath Dawnbreak
Mother - Riliana Dawnbreak
Corelei has been estranged from her parents for many years. It is unclear whether she has any siblings or other family still living.
On a bright clear morning, as the forests of Quel'thalas bathed in an eternal springtime, Riliana Dawnbreak finally gave birth to her first, and only, child. Bedridden for months, she longed for the day when she would be able to hold her much longed-for son in her arms - he was to be named Jaranthe, a variation of his father's name, the small bundle carrying all the pride the small Dawnbreak family had. Riliana's husband, Jarath, hovered outside the small house, tears welling in his eyes when he heard those first precious shrieks coming from the newborn's lungs. He wiped the tears from his face with his calloused hands as the midwife appeared, a wide grin on her face. "Congratulations, Mister Dawnbreak. You have a beautiful daughter!" With those words, newborn Corelei's fate was sealed. She spent her childhood in a state of confusion, hiding from her hateful father and distraught mother. Jarath was a harsh man, and somehow blamed his wife for "failing" him. Corelei was the focus for his distaste - what use would a daughter be to him? He wanted - no, needed - a son. A son who would join the ranks of Silvermoon's finest army, a son to be proud of! Instead he was lumbered with a scrawny pick of a girl, so uncoordinated she could barely walk in an open field without finding something to trip on or hurt herself with. She was a mistake.
As she grew, Corelei became more aware of her father's disgust. Soon her parent's arguments were easily overheard, and between the thin walls that separated her small room from theirs, she heard all kinds of secrets voiced when the house should have been silent. In those long nights between childhood and adulthood, she grew more and more determined to prove them wrong - she would go to Silvermoon and train there. She would make them proud of her. She left Fairbreeze Village the next morning, carrying a few meagre belongings and one dull iron blade, fashioned by the smith in the village. She had spent many afternoons there, watching the blacksmiths as they collected their ores, smelting the dusty stone into a glimmering almost magical liquid, hammering it into whatever they wished as it solidified on the anvil. Her arms didn't have the strength for smithing, and her lack of coordination usually meant she would hammer the anvil directly, without the smelt being in place, so instead the smiths would often send her out to the hills with a pick where she would gather all the copper and tin she could find. These trips were bliss - nothing but her and the forests and hills of Eversong where she could escape the harsh glances and harsher words from her father, and the deep regret etched in every line on her mother's face. She could not be a disappointment when she was alone.
She clung onto the memories of those afternoons in the hills as her training in Silvermoon intensified. She was no fighter, and she knew it. The blades were huge and heavy, much too big for her arms to hold, and the armour swamped her skinny frame. She felt like a fraud, but refused to go home - after all, that would only prove her parents right, that she was a good for nothing disappointment. The Scourge attack on Silvermoon was the final nail in the coffin. As her brothers and sisters in arms rushed to the front gates to defend the city from the oncoming army, Corelei did the one thing she knew she would be good at - she hid. Dumping the mail training armour she had come to despise, she ran against the tide of fighters, through streets and alleyways, clambering up steps and balconies until she found a tiny alcove, just large enough for her to crawl inside. Her heart racing, she covered her ears with her trembling hands as she tried to block out the anguished cries of the city, and the bloodthirsty yells of the Scourge as they obliterated anything in their path. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, curled up in a ball inside the tiny gap in the wall. The sky had darkened more than once, but whether that was from the day turning to night or from the mere presence of the Scourge she couldn't tell. She didn't leave her hiding place until the last cries had long since echoed into silence, and what remained of the city had stilled.
In the weeks and months that passed, Corelei fluctuated between wanting to desperately escape Silvermoon and mourning the loss of her city and wanting to help rebuild. In the end, she stayed, making ends meet by venturing out into the ravaged lands surrounding the city to gather ore and other supplies as the rebuilding works began. No-one could ignore the almost agonising ache in them - the loss of the Sunwell as apparent as the loss of most of the city, the mana addiction a more lasting destruction that ate away at the remaining population and would continue to do so long after the spires of the Court of the Sun were able to shine once more. Even as the city began to take shape, Corelei continued to gather ore, venturing further and further from the city and Quel'thalas until soon she would be traveling for days or weeks, eventually returning with a sizable bounty. As she travelled she began to wield a sword again - much smaller this time, and she claimed it was for "self defense", but soon she found herself in the shadier parts of cities, being taught jumps and attacks by scruffy goblins, fierce Orcs and sinister elves. She soon came to treasure the training she received far more than the clumps of ore and gems she used to pay for the lessons, and eventually she would be hired more for her skill with a blade than her skill with a mining pick. Years passed, how many she couldn't completely recall. She had travelled the length and breadth of Azeroth and Outland. Having set up a small home in Silvermoon, she took on a room in the Outland city of Shattrath, a so-called sanctuary from the surrounding carnage that the Burning Legion had caused. The city was no haven, the streets flooded with the injured and refugees from the fighting. She soon came to dislike the place, and when a message arrived asking her to return to Silvermoon, she found herself racing for the portal home. She was led through the Sunspire, and granted an audience with Halduron Brightwing himself. The Ranger General was tall and lean, yet his very presence unnerved Corelei. He sat opposite her, his expression filled the same sense of distaste that she had seen from her father all those years before. Despite her age, her skill as a fighter (or "rogue" as the patrons of many a bar named her), even her reputation as a trader, she felt like that same timid, nervous child, awaiting yet another verbal assault. "Dawnbreak. We will be sending you to Northrend. That is all." He sniffed, rose from his desk, and left, leaving a stunned Corelei to try to take the news in. There had been to insults, no shooing away. The Farstriders needed her, and she was more than happy to oblige.
When it comes to her personal life, Corelei plays her cards close to her chest; as close as the sapphire gem that hangs from the long truesilver chain around her neck. All the above information should be taken as OOC, since she's about as likely to spill her history to strangers as she is to jump on a Silvermoon mailbox and dance in her underwear.
Criminal Record Edit
The Silvermoon City registry has note of a few minor charges against Corelei's name - theft being the most common, alongside two charges of breach of the peace. All fines were paid in full.