#character thinks

(jumping off the back of a dragonhawk onto Amani bats and orcish red dragons and trusting the trained animal to catch her when she jumps back

Lexifrazz Glimmergear was, by her teachers' reckoning, the worst student her prestigious engineering college had seen in generations. Horribly mechanically inept - a disgrace to gnomish tradition! She floundered, unsure what to make of herself. She floundered, unsure what to make of herself until the fall of Gnomeregan forced her into exile into Dun Morogh.

She came up from the city almost as it was being sealed off - part of a school detachment sent to the lower levels to collect samples and evacuate as many people as they could. Analyzing the bits of irradiated metal and rock they'd brought up led her to earth sciences, and into the company of dwarven miners and eventually the Explorer's League, where she flourished as a geological expert. 

Her pursuits of geological anomalies and rare stones led into research into crystal dynamics and resonance fields - esoteric and useful enough to redeem her lack of raw mechanical talent. Less than the scientiic renown, however Lexi discovered she liked the adventure more than the end product. 

The world is as big as she feels she is. In her home city, no one ever told her she was short, after all.

Learning how to defend herself was a necessity of the job, but she's proud of her strength and capability to get herself out of things. As a side effect of her life seems to be having a heart that knows no fear, she gets herself in to quite a few things.

Thyra Thaumaforge  was a court scribe and household sourceress in the retinue of a noble on the Shadowforge Senate, in the last years of Emperor Thaurissan's reign. She got there by cleverness and a little bit of family clout - her father and brother both soldiers in the Angerforge regiments, her grandmother a hoary old Priestess of Ragnaros. Her fortunes, like the rest of her people, tied to the whims of the Emperor and the Firelord's whims. She worked carefully and quietly for her patron, maneuvering his rivals into the Ring of the Law by working the bureaucracy, and bestowing the blessings of the runes to his favored.

Her fortunes dried up overnight with the death of her patron in the Emperor's throne room. Narrowing avoiding becoming a victim of the Law herself, she followed Empress Moira's contingent to Ironforge to escape her own rivals. She settled in the Forlorn Cavern after being all but outright called a  'warlock' upon her arrival, and has gone into business for herself - something she never would have been permitted to do in Blackrock Mountain.

She sells the old rune-blessings in the front of a little shop with an apartment in the back, either written as glyphs on paper or appies directly to a subject's skin with ink. Once a month, she has a magnificent amount of proper dwarvish breakfast catered to her home and feeds any of the city guard who happen to be on patrol in the Cavern. And she takes any remarks about her origins or professions with her head up.

Buzzi Vitriol had no ambitions back on Kezan, and considered herself smart enough to know better. The Cartel bosses were always going to stomp all over goblins like her, so she focused on keeping her head down and getting by. She served drinks in a dockside bar, sometimes to hilariously detrimental effect, rented a place just outside the slums with a card shark that drifted in and out of her life like the tide. 

The Cataclysm changed her world in the blink of an eye. She went from laid-back bartender to Trade Prince's slave to drowning victim so fast she didn't know how it happened. As the ship she'd been taken away from ruined Kezan on was sunk by an Alliance cannon, she made a desperate cry that was answered by powerful spirits of the water, who helped her to safety in exchange for her service.

She never wanted that, either. After settling in Orgrimmar with other Cartel refugees, she did her best to keep her head down and keep on. Her shamanic abilities were picked up on before long, as she was drafted into the Horde army as a medic.

Dr. Safety survived the long dark in Gnomeregan by barricading herself in a clinic and trying to help other survivors as best as she could. Besieged by a never-ending stream of patients suffering from terrible radiation poisons as well as the leper sickness, she struggled to stem the onslaught with her meager supplies. With time and perserverance, she was able to develop some counteractive and cleansing techniques. It helped, even if it was never enough on her own.

S.A.F.E liberated her sometime after the Cataclysm. In the debriefing, they called it the Light.

Safety has remained with the gnomish relief and liberation efforts as a member of the Gnomeregan Medical Corps. 

Ms. Mortwrench 's aptitudes first led her from Gnomeregan, through Dalaran, and straight into the halls of the Scholomance. THe Kirin Tor found her theories repugnant, anathema - the Cult of the Damned embraced them as the brilliant things she knew they were

An organic body was just another type of machine, after all. Working parts requiring maintenance, power channeled by arcane or mundane energy sources. It was simple and reasonable to her, and it was simply and reasonably that she fell to damnation.

She became a specialist in crafting and maintaining Scourge constructs of various types. After Naxxramas was defeated in the Plaguelands, her efforts and research landed her the 'honor' of undeath - as a death knight of Acherus. She commanded some of her finest creations in the siege of Havenshire and Tyr's Hand until the culmination at Light's Hope. Having the Lich KIng's will cleaved from her own was a painful thing, but not unlike removing an unstable power conduit. 

Eillian Locke  was a young man, a new-made Knight when he followed Anduin Lothar's company to Draenor. Trapped behind the Dark Portal for twenty years, he grew up - and grew older - in Honor Hold, fighting a seemingly endless barrage of Legion forces. He stayed in Outland even when contact with Azeroth was re-established, out of duty, but also out of a sense of the broken planet having become a home.

He barely recognized the rebuilt Stormwind when he finally got to set eyes on it, after all.

He should have retired when they called him back at last. He wasn't young anymore, a hundred old injuries made him ill-suited for life in heavy armor and shield. Instead, he was sent to Pandaria to help young officers learn to survive without supply chains in a land where the very earth seemed to turn against one. Familiar conditions, even if the terrain was drastically different than Hellfire Peninsula.

A chance encounter with a wounded enemy led him to a pandaren house in the woods for aid. In turn, this lead to several discussions about his present and future, and the adoption of different means of waging war.

Ivoria Tailor was only supposed to be an assistant to the old magus who had both his mundane and ritual garments made in her father's shop. The kind of position with which a young merchant-class girl could do good by herself. 

The natural intelligence that made her a competent ritual assistant made her an even more competent apprentice. More competent than the magus' actual apprentice, even, even if his antiquated Dalaran-taught prejudice made it a hard thing for him to admit. She devoured the secrets of the arcane like a ravenous animal inside the old man's sanctum, almost oblivious to the natoinal turmoil going on outside the walls until she found herself right in the middle of it.

Afflicted with the worgen curse while aiding an assembly of senior wizards in trying to undo it, Ivy struggled at first to balance her new feral urges with her civilized and intellectual side. A side-effect of the concentration required to maintain her human shape even after the Ritual of Goldrinn left her unable to use offensive or active magic, except in wolf's skin.

In time, she has come to both accept and cherish her heightened strength and senses. Sometimes she thinks she can smell the crackle of magic itself - a little like ozone and a little like dust.

Danilys Scathfell seldom leaves the Highlands of her birth, venturing down into Dwarven lands for supplies (and occasionally, when the weather in Arathi gets too bad to camp). The majority of her family, including her aging parents, have left Stromgarde for other places, safer or otherwise. She has lost an uncle and a couple of cousins on foreign soil and has no desire to be a part of Stormwind's wars.

Instead, she writes letters to her parents, who take the reports from Arathi Basin and lobby for aid for the kingdom among Stormwind's powerful citizens. She raises hawks and hunts for League of Arathor cookpots. Officially, she's a scout and a supply gatherer, but her marksmanship skills get put to use against far more than game.

Marisela Leynier grew up in Tyr's Hand, one of the last bastions of humanity left in the Plaguelands. The daughter of one of the city's armorers, she was raised with the faith militant of the Scarlet Crusade. Taller and broader and stronger than the few other girls her age in the city, she learned her father's trade and dreamed of following her elder brother, trained to the priesthood, when he was sent to Northrend with High General Abbendis' forces

She was drafted into the remnants of the Crusade as a young teenager - too young to question the only life she'd known, and deployed from the city into a post the Plaguelands. Spared this way in being turned into an undead abomination like the rest of Tyr's Hand's citizens, she was retrieved by an Argent patrol who managed to talk her into laying her hammer down and coming with them. Sent first to Hearthglen, then to Stormwind, she is both in the service and the custody of the Church of the Light, working under an armorer and dreaming of going back to help finish reclaiming her homeland from the undead.

Kate Risard used her pretty face and a touch of magic in the service of Crowley's rebellion. She charmed royalist secrets out of king's officers and petty nobles, and helped pass information along that saved rebel lives. Eventually, her pretty face and touch of magic wasn't enough to save her when she was discovered and arrested.

She danced on the air as the first whispers of the worgen curse started to spread through her homeland, and was dead before it spread to almost the entire nation. The Forsaken invasion of Gilneas meant that her corpse didn't stay at rest, however, and the pretty rebel from Pyrewood was raised into Sylvanas' army.

37:

"That damn bird, look at all that trouble he's gotten me into." His wings and clothes drenched, he glanced out the window before putting out the butt of his cigarette. It was starting to clear up some, he thought when that brat came home for the first time. He thought about how spoiled he was, how stressful it was to find him again, and then the headache it was to live with him now. Whenever he thought about him he grew angry, it was as if he did not have a brother, but instead an enemy. He looked down in his daze and realized he had gotten some hot embers onto the feathers of his hand, he shook them off and looked at the scorch marks and thought about how he had thrown his own brother into a creek. How he just let the others think he was gone for good. He thought how they both were just some kid's imaginary friends and he held no control over the situation, and that made him feel weak. He thought about all the hate he harbored towards Ko and realized it wasn't him hated, but himself. He was the enemy.

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