Silvyr Brightlance

## Description

The weight of the world upon his shoulders. He moves like a bear- his motions are large and savage- but there is a predatory manner to them. Silvyr Brightlance stands at a rather massive 7’6 after his Dragonsworn mutations. A tall, muscular, Quel’Dorei with white hair, orange-gold eyes, and a striking, hawkish gaze. The lines on his eyes speak of things he has seen in the later, even now before they have happened. To say he is a large man is putting it lightly. A large sword, giant plates, tabards from long-forgotten organizations that hearken to nostalgia of his past.

## Personality

With the swearing of the flight came slight changes in what one might expect of actual personality, that is to value the same personality inflections, but this may have come with the mutations. Cunning and Wisdom over all else, patience when it is needed, but the ability to play the long-game behind an analytical gaze and heavy motions that you have to be constantly aware can change everything around you.

## Background Disambiguation

Silvyr Brightlance met Onzdormu, a Bronze Dragon of many approximate ages, at the height of the Battle of Hyjal. Their meeting was fated due to Silvyr's springing a trap which set in motion the events of Onzdormu's death in that timeline... but he reacted out of character to the way he was statistically supposed to act, saving Onzdormu instead of himself. This allowed Onzdormu to turn back the clock mere moments before his arrival, and gave Silvyr the knowledge to stop the trigger from setting the chain of events in motion. In essence this is usually more than a mortal is expected to bear, and when Silvyr kept his promise it set them back on the correct timeline in that specific case.

So Silvyr promised him, and now he is back on the right track in the correct timeline.

After the Battle of Hyjal, a meeting out of time takes place. Allegiance for his actively and passively saving of Onzdormu. Allegiance given in this timeline for a life saved in the other.

Though a mortal mind is not prepared to take in the specifics of timeline changing, the swearing allows mutations that would have allowed Silvyr to understand. He chose to trust him due to his selflessness, and swearing allowed him to recall events from the future that no longer happened that he might remember what not to do in the past before the time bubble collapse.

A swearing for a promise to put time back on one of its many tracks, and saving Onzdormu from the infinite flight thanks to his anomalous selflessness in the face of true pain and terror at the apex of the third war.

Despite this trust given and his ability to perceive the change in the timeline at that moment, swearing is far from a one time thing. Silvyr was made aware by Onzdormu that he can be used like a Pawn of the Flight should intervention by an unexpected force be needed. His ability to perceive the small changes now, and his awareness of the butterfly effect and the nature of how small events can change entire futures would require the flight to keep a close eye after the point he was utilized anyway.

..because if you were utilized once... you will be utilized again, and already have been.

..after the Third War. Silvyr would follow the armies of the Alliance. The zeitgeist, and make sure he is able to consistently keep his finger on the pulse, in case he is or was needed in the future or already.

## Timeline Repairs

He never did make it home to Quel’Thalas.

A pale skeleton lies amongst the debris and corpses of soldiers around. Fires of forever bleach the bones further from nothing- and as the fire flickers out- flecks of flesh begin to form what was once the Paladin himself, Silvyr Brightlance. Once his body was whole again—he pushes himself up to his knees… looking like he had met his end.. before he stands up—fine once more. Unwounded, far from the skeleton he was moments later.

“You beat the odds- you made a mistake.”

The Bronze Dragon, Onzdormu flickered for a moment in a bubble of divinity before it disappeared- an Infinite Dragon appears in a portal counting up from nothing- but the Dragon seemed focused on Silvyr.

“They bet you would protect yourself- and not me. Promise me that when this begins- you won’t touch the object.”

“I already haven’t.” The Paladin answered as he drew his blade from his back- and held out his hand as a precursor to the spell already cast- aiming at the Bronze Dragon.

“How can I know this won’t occur again?” He asked- as the Infinite Dragon immediately opens its mouth to return infernal hellfire from the plane where it had already cast it.

“It is already rewinding, you saved me- and if you promise me you will do as I ask, and swear yourself to me, we will uphold the balance that you have already maintained now, and in the later.”

“I already have!” Said Silvyr- as he rushed backward, away from the Dragon- as the fire zipped back into its jowels- the men and women of Stormwind, the troops dead in the later—had begun to push themselves back up- their eyes wide with fear of what had happened, before they return to their hardened battle-ready gaze of before the dragonfear had set in.

Silvyr Brightlance joins the line of troops where he was, his eyes already cast into the sky- where the bronze dragon disappears into a flash of light and sand. Before them was the Infinite, morphing back down into its form as a ghoul from whence it came, a time bomb prepared due to the events of the past that had been promised not to occur in the later.

The ghouls stand up in the middle of the group—the blades of the footmen already in their corpses—the line of footmen had barely finished the combat by the time combat hadn’t started yet—their blades withdrawing from the gristle and corpses—a consecration flickers into existence as Silvyr’s hand comes up to have a book re-summoned from nothing before he prepared his spell.

The ghouls were walking slowly away from the group- their slow walk away a herald to the death of the Nerubian Crypt Lord- that stands back up from where it had fallen into nothingness- a Ballista bolt in its chest removes itself- and disappears from whence it came. The formations of troops head back to their lines- screams of anger and pain break into existence from where they had ended moments prior- and they waned into small voices from where they had waxed. The group of Silvyr’s slowly backed down the hill of the burning Hyjal- heroes in far-flung places fought Eredar Lords- while they were simply returning from a Patrol they had already started, clearing the path for a war party that was going to aid Jaina—but the trap had been sprung already, and she would never make it. –But she already had thanks to Onzdormu- who Silvyr met in the later.

For now, they hadn’t left camp- and he set down the red-and-blue potion bottle that caught the eye in an odd manner, the potion bottle that wasn’t a potion bottle at all, but a trigger that allowed a ripple in time to change the future- but he set the potion down- as he hadn’t picked it up due to his promise in the later, after his death- and before his death, when he saved Onzdormu from the flames of the Infinite. Setting down the potion and returning to his formation- casting his gaze from the ground- where he was once nervous- to the sky- where he was no longer nervous, feeling like he knew himself a bit more now that he knew what he couldn’t know.

The Third War saw Silvyr join the Battle at Mount Hyjal amongst the other Paladins against the incursion of the demons at Hyjal. It was where he will make his promise in the later to Onzdormu, saving his life in return for remembering the end at the beginning.  He spent his years prior learning what it meant to be a Paladin, how to call the light- and just what it meant to call the light. Before he joined the clerics of Northshire, we was merely a refugee amongst the many in the destruction of Stormwind, before he left for there- he had made his home in Capital City- and spent many years there before he had decided to become a Paladin.

The First War showed the dire need of the Alliance for warriors to combat the Horde, and it was his family, the Brightlance family history of priests, that showed him the power of the light, and what it meant to take that light and become a warrior as well.

As a child, Silvyr was in tutelage with his mother and father, and spent years learning the basics of being a priest in a manner completely unorthodox to the orthodoxy as if he was some sort of squire- despite his father being a man of the cloth, and his mother a mage. He was drawn to the light from a young age, and he was born to Relain Brightlance, and Wyll Brightlance at the height of the decadence.