#ciralin

Ciralin crashed through the void portal she had made in a rush and landed on one of the floating rocks within Telogrus Rift. As she put the space between her, the company, and the other invaders, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, and she let out a sob. Her heart ached as she wept, thinking of how she had left everyone and the actions she took.  ----

The sound of battle had called her out from her hiding place in the cave, she was prepared to leave in an instant, but was not prepared to see that the entire company had come to fight their way through the sirens to find her. She had lingered longer than intended watching them, and they had spotted her and approached. 

She couldn’t let them just come up now, they would try to stop her, reason with her, tell her to come home and that everything would be alright. That decision wasn’t up to them though. It was hers and hers alone. It pained her to do it, but she sent out a wave of energy towards Sigurd. He looked about as shocked as she was, and the guilt began to creep in. Each question, each plead for her to stay...

“Why are you doing this?”

“Come back home with me...”

“You can’t just leave me like this!”

It was more than she was able to handle, and in order to do what she had to, she had to make him leave, and she succeeded. Boring his worst fears into him, he fled from her.  ---- The ren’dorei pushed herself up into a sitting position and wiped at her face, drenched with tears. She didn’t know what hurt more, her head or her heart.  “He’ll never forgive me for that...” She murmured to no one, but herself, staring off to a cluster of stones floating through the abyss, they shifted as they did so, and, at least in her mind, formed what looked like a large person. She squeezed her eyes tightly to try and ebb the flow of more tears, but they came anyways.  ----  Elaianna had tried to talk sense into her as she began to try another escape, foiled again by Genny, and now,Joseph, who had run up the hill and trapped her within his grasp. Usually the man’s bear hugs were comforting, but the action had triggered Ciralin, and she had snapped, the shadows and void fully enveloping her. It was bad enough she struggled against him, but she cursed him. She cursed one of her first friends on the alliance side, leaving him in nothing but intense agony, and even worse, threatened to...No... DID attempt to curse Genny. They weren’t listening. They didn’t understand the danger that they were in, the danger they had put her into.  On top of it all, a group of horde thugs had come along during the hub-bub to try and take their chances on her, further cementing the idea that not only was she dangerous to the company, but the company was a danger to her.  After struggling against Joseph’s embrace, Ciralin finally was freed and ran, using the distraction of the would-be assassins to finally portal herself to the Rift.  She felt like she was going to be sick. The anxiety and guilt ate away at her, it was easier to give in to the whispers of darkness. Perhaps they would be more likely to keep her safe if she just...gave in...

Depends on the character.

Ciralin was raised to believe in the Light, and while it is comforting in times of duress she doesn't exactly worship it. She acknowledges the existence of deities, and accepts those that worship whatever.

Olivia doesn't really know much about them, she lumps all believers of anything in one category of "eccentric". They're all just..magical beings, and for all she knows or cares they are the same.

This made me realize I don't have many characters with strong belief systems... I have a priest who is sort of a work in progress that worships the Light but... Haven't worked on her in a while 🙃

It wasn't the first one, but it was the first one in a long time. Years had gone by without having to worry about her life being stolen from her. In those years she had found peace with herself, and found her own family within the Alliance, within the Company, and with Sigurd.

She had moved on from her past, but that did not stop the past from catching up with her. In fact, there was now a bounty on her head because of it. "Dead or Alive" that's what the rogue woman had said. A cold chill ran through Ciralin's body and she hugged her knees close to her chest.

The problem wasn't necessarily just one assassin, considering how easy it was for Genny to subdue this one, but it was the fact that she knew there would be more, possibly lead by the assassin that had gotten away, and since then, the whispers she had learned to tune out, had been making a large racket within her brain.

"Genny let her go on purpose."

"She's the rat! They all are!"

"They want you dead too."

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

It was non-stop chattering throughout the night. If she slept it was only to be met with visions of herself standing over the corpses of her friends. She clutched onto Sigurd tightly to comfort herself. If he was alive it was all okay. She pressed her ear to his chest and counted each heartbeat drown out the whispers. It seemed to work. For now.

Behind the chorus of violent thoughts was a small voice that called out, one she recognized as her own, but it hurt to consider even though she knew it was right.

"Leave to protect them."

Ciralin's guilty pleasure is smut. She loves reading those harlequin romance books.

Olivia really enjoys singing , but would rather be dead than sing in front of others. She'll hum often, but never vocalize anything.

Selection Line: “I would be honoured to join you on your quest.”

Class: Warlock

Weapons: Staff, Curses, Fiiiiireeeee

AI Behavior: Providing DoT damage at a touch range, deals fire damage from afar. Goes where she’s told. Expects you to assist EVERYONE who needs help.

Bonus Ability: Warlock Cookies!

Battle Lines:

“I’m sorry it has come to this.” - Entering close combat 

“I suggest you keep your distance” -  Entering ranged combat

“You started it...” - Killing an enemy.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to hit a lady?!” - Being struck

Cooldowns:

“You should have stopped when you had the chance.” - Shifting into an Entropic Embrace. (DARKSIDE!)

“Perhaps we could take a small break and enjoy a cup of tea?” - Low on Mana

“I think things are beginning to heat up in here, hmm?” - Casting Rain of Fire

"Boo.” - Casting Fear

“AEgadane aesgvv aet aweta sdAE aweg” - Summoning a demon! 

Exiting Battle:

“Well....That was fun.”

“Should....we tell their family?”

“Do you think it would be wrong to see if they had any pockets worth emptying?”

“Please don’t make me do that again.”

KO’d:

“I see....a light?”

“Bury me...with my...books.”

“...but...we had a plan....”

Screaming. And then Silence.

Resurrected:

“Is everyone else safe?”

“Can I have some cake, please?”

“What...happened? Did we win?”

Tagged by: @karthe-surick

(( This is an amazing artist who writes her own songs, and performs covers inside her blue bathtub! Her name is Abbey Glover and you can also find her on: Instagram - X

or Twitter - X ))

(( Lyrics

Is there something wrong with me ? 

Cos I can’t seem to keep anyone or anything, anyone or anything. 

Is it the way I walk ? The way I talk ?

Or how I wish I could change the world ?

Is it silly of me, is it silly of me to dream ? 

Oh I try to make everyone happy, But what about What about me ? 

Is it too much to ask, Is it too much of a chore?

For someone to stick around unlike everyone before. 

Is it the way I dress ? My need to impress?

Or how I’m clearly drenched in loneliness? 

And I’m craving, craving something like this. 

Do I feel too much ? Tell me, do I feel to much ?

Are you suffocating under my love ? I can’t help it darling I can’t help it with you.  

I’m begging don’t go I’m begging you please stay,

Ciralin Roseshadow, was a typical Sin'dorei elf with pink fleshy, sun-touched skin, and flowing brown hair, that she maintained consistently, keeping it tucked in to a neat bun every day. That all changed after the incident with the void, transforming that pink flesh into an alabaster blue. Tendrils of void sprouted from her head, and her hair turned to black, with shades of blue and purple.

Her face show signs that once she was always happy, but after being disowned by her family she found it difficult to smile. Through all the hard work she put into her studies to assist in overcoming the lust her people had, her happiness was over taken by bitterness and anger towards the Horde, and those she had once called family, though often times it is paired with sorrow.

Generally clad in some form of robe, very rarely seen in something as casual as pants. On her hip she has a small pouch that seems like it would hold coins, but is in fact where she stores Soul Shards. Memento's from those who have fallen at the hands of Ciralin.

Raised by a family of Priests and Paladins, it was expected of Ciralin to follow in these foot steps. Through many failed lessons her family began to distance themselves from her. Feeling betrayed by the Light, and a disappointment to her family she began to study all that she could. It was then that she met her tutor, who would teach her how to harness darker powers. Disgusted by her abilities, Ciralin's family had cast her out. Though few remained to keep in contact with her.

In a desperate attempt to redeem herself to her family, she assisted in the research that would help her kind be rid of their addiction to foul magics. Through a series of unfortunate events, she had become a Ren'dorei. Officially abandoned by all of her relatives, she dropped her family name, and adopted Roseshadow.

(Disclaimer: Shadowlands aesthetic spoilers.)

The Maw.

That is what she had heard it called by those around her. It was a bleak and hellish landscape. No...this was hell, she was certain of it. How long had she been here? It felt like eons, but there was no night, and there was no day. This place she found herself trapped in was stuck in an endless dusk. How did she get here? Ciralin strained herself in trying to remember the events that brought her here but it caused her head to ache too much to do so. 

Everything about her body ached if she was being honest. Muscles tense and swollen from an endless time mining and carving for the creatures that held her here. The only break she had from this was when wrists were shackled with heavy irons during their off times. They never shackled her legs, they didn't need to. She felt weighted down and heavy enough as it was, and anyone who tried to run was swiftly made an example of. Snatched up by the val'kyr that circled the skies, and brutally tortured before being returned to the quarry.