Corvanna Ela'shiel

They say Elven archers are the backbone and history of all Elven military. They say an Elf with anything but a bow is unnatural. They also say that bows are faster to reload, light, and easier to carry. All of this is possibly, perhaps even likely to be true. I however, prefer guns. Why? I believe taking a life is a heavy decision, and not without consequence. I believe one should be sure of this choice before making it. I believe a bow string is too easily released, a bow too light. I like the bulk and weight of a gun in my hands. It keeps me aware of the weight of the actions it can preform. -- Corvanna Ela'shiel
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===Name===
Ranger-Captain Corvanna Ela'shiel.
===Age===
Young adult, around 20-25 in human terms
===Occupation===
Sharp-shooter with the Farstriders, trained doctor.
==Physical Appearance==
A hawk with the smile of a child and the wit of a sailor.
Corvanna stands 5 foot and 8 inches tall, with a slim, lithe build, her muscle structure closer to that of a gymnast or dancer than a warrior, built for speed and flexibility over brute strength. She looks like she is currently on the better side of recovering from recently being very ill and bedridden, a little on thin side, her face slim and cheeks defined. Dark purple shadows usually stain the pale skin under her eyes from lack of sleep, though she seemed settled and content, not often showing her fatigue.
There is nothing overly attractive about her visage, nor is there anything unattractive about it, her face clean of make up, is often found adorned instead with mud and dirt. Her gentle almond eyes are quick to smile, but hold within them a constant sharp awareness of her surroundings. Her jaw slopes softly to her chin, her nose is small and straight, and her body bearing little in way of noticeable scar's or deformities.
Her dark hair is usually pulled up in a ponytail off her face, the style clearly used for practicality rather than fashion, from its hasty and messy result. Her finger tips and ears rarely ever still their twitching and fidgeting, some find this distracting others barely notice it. Her right hand, her trigger hand, is bound up in tight, usually grubby, bandage, from knuckles to elbow, somewhat like a boxer, she claims this is for extra support.
She always carries her rifle, the gun showing a great deal of care from it's owner, and a boot knife. The only other thing she is usually found with is a leather sack-like backpack, belted too her back by a leather band diagonally across her chest, in which she carries her herbs, vials and her box of Medical tools. Along with rations and other personals.
She moves with a very obvious, smooth, dancers grace in her step. Her pace, though quick never comes across as heavy or rushed.
==Background==
At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. -Anon
The memories of childhood are sweet, long lazy days in the endless spring-summer of Quel'thalas, the entire Elven kingdom tucked away within it's forests, hidden and shielded from the outside world, growing up there, it was often hard to imagine an outside world existed at all. Corvanna grew up within the tranquility of this Haven, living with her parents in western Silvermoon in a small apartment above her father Alchemical Remedies shop. She spent her days helping were she could, collecting flowers, running deliveries and errands around the city, thankfully having a natural and fond interest in her fathers work and the family business. Her greatest joy, however, was their trips south.
After the union with Arathor, routes south were opened with the Human kingdoms, mostly used by Magisters and merchants, of which her father was one. Every few months Cora would accompany him south to a small human settlement were he traded his wares, mostly by an aging human man she only knew as Robert, who despite the humans new affiliation with magic's insisted that the 'Old Way' was not yet dead and in such ran his dwindling doctoring practice, mostly catering to suspicious elderly wary of these new magic's.
Corvanna has always been curious, and adventurous even as a child, she held a vivid passion for anything that caught her interest and would pursue it heavily. She found this humans method of hands on doctoring fascinating, like mechanics, and spent their entire visits south observing and learning from the man. Though neither extremely wealth or poor, her childhood was comfortable and filled with wonder and exploration. This was of course, until Arthas ans his restless dead marched on Quel'thalas, destruction in his wake.
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They came from the south, the army of dead, their every footstep leaving a permanent scar on Elven land. The darkest hour of the Elven race fell upon the land and in their time of need they reached out to their human allies to the south only to find their pleas fell on deaf ears, they had been betrayed and the armies of Silvermoon stood alone, rangers, magisters and soldiers working side by side in a futile effort to fight back the swarms, outnumbers hundreds to one, thousands fell, paying a debt in blood for our land. Eventually, the forced retreat fell back to hold Sunstrider Isle and the invading Scourge marched North, decimating the city in their path as they struck out toward the Sunwell. The dark evil of their deeds clashing with the pure magic of the well itself caused the magnificent magical artifact to fall into chaos and destruction, the explosion shook the land to it’s very core. The thundering noise ripped across the sky, the earth itself shook with effort and every head of every survivor on Sunstrider Isle turned Northward in fear.
Our tale is that of a Sindorei and as such it begins as many of its kin do, with tragedy and loss, for our people were born of betrayal and war, but more than this they were born of remembrance and hope. Hope that they may build a tomorrow that surpasses today and once again restore the power and glory of their people.
We begin on a day written in many books and recounted in a hundred different versions, a day I’m sure many of you remember and if your young heart is not burdened in memory of the bloodshed, I’m sure you have heard countless tales. The day the Sunwell fell. The day Arthas and his armies of restless dead marched on Quel’Thalas, seeking our glorious Sunwell for his own twisted use. The day that made heroes of Elves, and betrayers of Men.
She'd hid. She would admit it to anyone. When they came for the Sunwell, she'd run, and she'd hid. She was a coward. Only when faced with no other option did the girl, just verging on adulthood, return to the destruction left behind. Her home was in ruins, burnt to ash, her parents gone. She wandered through the camp's of survivors on Sunstrider Isle for days, maybe weeks, she couldn't tell. When her mind eventually started to awaken from its trance of grief, she grabbed at the first opportunity she found to do something. Anything. She signed up as a Ranger, to re-supplement the massively depleted Elven armies. Discovering she actually wasn't a bad shot, she spent a great deal of time training and practicing, with little else to distract her anymore and when the chance came she choose to follow the Sun Prince through the Portal, seeing no reason to stay, with nothing left for her in Quel'Thalas.
The journey south however, and what lay in waiting across the portal was a great hardship of which she had never seen the like before. Her quiet little Eversong up-bringing and even her vigorous and constant training since the attack could not have prepared her for what the elves met in Draenor. No matter how hard she trained, or fought, she couldn't make herself the soldier she needed to be, she was after-all, just a peasant-girl in armour. She was terrified and once removed from the forests of Eversong she found she missed it a great deal. Scared of things she found herself facing she longed for home, and when the first rumors were spoken of the Princes suspected betrayal, by those who would later become the Scryers, seeds of doubt were planted firmly in Cora's mind, aided by her will to believe them, and return home.
Once she was sure these rumor's has some bases of truth, which did not take much convincing for the lonely and homesick Ranger, she decided to return home and warn them of the treachery. Which she did. Stealing a Dragonhawk she ran, deciding haste was priority, and in her lack of knowledge, recklessness and desire to be anywhere but there at that moment, she chose a direct 'As-the-crow-flies' route, which took her through the Twisting Nether for a short time before reaching Hellfire.Cora does not talk of this, and never has since it's occurrence. It has not affected her in any great way, other than a lasting memory and recurrent and vivid nightmares. It was this that lead to her insomnia, and dislike for the act of sleeping in general, as every so often she will wake up screaming.
Despite this she did make it home, eventually. However her seemingly baseless and insane claims were not meet with open ears and willing hearts, and she was imprisoned for Desertion and Blasphemy.
It was six years before she saw the sun once more. After the Sun Princes' betrayal came to light, Cora was almost as surprised as the rest of the Sin'dorei, having over the past six years come to believe she may indeed have been wrong. It still took several long months for the Order's bureaucrats to process and release all those 'Wrongly Imprisoned', a lot of this was also due to their attempts to keep this process as subtle and quiet and out of the public eye as possible, Never willing to admit fault. Corvanna was released, into a city and a culture vastly different from that one it had been six years previously, a home she no longer remembers, a people she no longer felt part of.
Taking to the thing she knew best, she reclaimed her rifle and spend several months re-training herself in the Ghostlands, while waiting for re-assignment. It was here she took to sleeping while biting down on a rag, as the nightmares and her resulting screaming were not beneficial to stealthy scouting missions. She also rediscovered her love of drawing and took up her first-aid training once more.
When her order's came through she could not claim shock, she'd been assigned to The Sunfire Vanguard, a regiment so steeped in ill-rumor and tavern talk, it's existence had even managed to met her ears, in her few short months of freedom. This is where she finds herself now, working along side a regiment of miscreants and criminals, bitter war veterans and stumbling initiates. Her days and nights spent endless trawling through the chilly ever-gloom of the Ghostlands.
==Quotes==
*The longer you think, the less you know what to do. - Anon
*Wounded people are dangerous, they know they can survive. - Anon
*Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Poe
*Tough and funny and a little bit kind: that is as near to perfection as a human being can be. ~Mignon McLaughlin
*Sometimes you have to put one foot in front of the other. Even though you don't know where you're going. - Anon
===Other Alt's/Mains===
*Unactive Characters
Achaia Archrion
Kelethia Cara'den
Alyxandria A'lorai
Issabella Dawnstar
Annaleise Dawnstar
*Active Characters
Lueianna Amalas
Category:Characters
Category:Blood Elf
Category:Horde
Category:Hunter
Category:Archive
Category:Female