Niavara

I am a Wizard.

Description:

Class: Wizard
Race: Eladrin
Size: Medium
Gender: Female
Height: 5’5"
Weight: 130lbs
Hair is long, slightly wavy, red-orange in color
Eyes are emerald in color. When sick, they look more grey. Long, dark eyelashes.
Very pale, like skin has never seen the sun.
Large, pointed ears.
Vision: Low light

Bio:

Relationships:

  • I hate Caleb. He “killed” Don because of a tent.
  • I don’t trust Lauren. At all. She stole my doughnuts.
  • I’m not quite sure what to think when it comes to Raven. He seems like a self-centered flirt that I have no interest in dealing with. I’m also not a huge fan of men being “overly chivalrous”.
  • I can sometimes get extremely emotional because of certain things that remind me of something that happened in my past, or just because I’m very neurotic. That makes me somewhat OCD about certain things. Unfortunately, in stressful situations I tend to have panic attacks. If someone that was close to me dies, or comes near death, that obviously takes an immense toll on my emotional well-being. Depending on who it is that died will determine my reaction. That can be anything from quiet crying to screaming and destroying everything with magic.
  • I’m not really one for love; too much trust required when it comes to that, but if I were going to trust anyone in that way it would…no, no I could never trust anyone that much. Ever.
  • I get along well with Kaili. She is one of my best friends. I guess thaYt’s pretty good because she doesn’t seem to get along with anyone else very well…
  • Yam and I go farther back than I care to remember. He was one of my good friends throughout most of my life. I realize he is kind of an unlucky pansy, but that seems to work for him. He’s always been kind to me and kept his word, so I suppose I can deal with his faults.
  • I’m an insomniac, but what Eladrin isn’t?
  • I really don’t know how to explain my feelings toward Don. I mean, a half-orc is the most vile, impure creature on this planet, and yet I don’t hate him. In fact, I almost kind of like him, maybe. These feelings both worry and confuse me.
  • Stevie and I get along pretty well I guess. I mean, I bought him doughnuts.

Background:

When I was very young, my village was attacked by a vicious group of shifters. As soon as they started pouring in, my mother, Althaea hid me away in a hollow tree in the woods we lived in. She, of course did that in an attempt to save me from being found by the shifters. Being only four, I trusted my mother blindly to do the right thing, and to make sure everything would always turn out well. Now, she almost seemed scared, which made me a little nervous about not being with her, but she told me to stay in the tree. So, I did just that with no question. I waited in that tree day, after day, after, day for my mom to come and tell me that it was okay to come out. I can’t say I longed for that day to come because I knew it would come sometime. My mom promised she would come back for me, so I waited undoubtedly, without worry for the day she would arrive and take me out of the tree.

After a few weeks of sitting and sleeping, I was starving. I didn’t know what to do; they hadn’t come back yet. All I could do was stay and wait some more. I sat for a few days, until the weirdest thing happened: An 8-year-old shifter found me. He told me he was running away from his family because he was mad at them. They had killed people and he knew that was bad. (I didn’t know at the time that the people his family had killed were some of my kin.) He said his name was Yam. Then he carefully lifted me out of the tree while telling me that he was running away. At this point, I was too hungry and tired to care that I had no idea who he was. The boy set me down, and I tried to stand. I had been greatly weakened by starvation and not moving. I immediately collapsed. Yam, knowing that I was in trouble and I had no choice but to trust him now, picked me up and started running as fast as he could away from his people.

I don’t know what happened after that, I must’ve passed out. All I remember is waking up in an alley in an unfamiliar village with Yam standing guard nearby. As soon as he saw that I was awake, he quickly gave me a small bowl of some kind of soup. Not even bothering to check what is was, I ate it as fast as I could. It was a great feeling to finally have food in my body, although I still didn’t feel strong enough to stand. Yam waited patiently for a few more days for me while I gained my strength back. Then, we set off on what he called an “adventure”. We lived for years traveling from town to town, stealing things that we needed and getting into trouble. I don’t know why, but I always seem to be the one in trouble. I don’t mean to be, it just kind of happens.

Niavara

Homeland Brigade 5unk157