Darvesk Sarvein

**Race**
 **Nation**
 **Born**
 **Titles**
 **Beliefs**
 **Signature**
 **Relatives**
* ~~Napolina Sarvein~~ (Grandmother)
* ~~Dracos Sarvein~~ (Father)
* ~~Aellyn Sarvein~~ (Mother)
* Dacre Sarvein (Brother)
* Vyrenus Sarvein (Brother)
* ~~Darwyn\_Sarvein~~ (Sister)
* ~~Aarvos Sarvein~~ (Brother)
* Aellwyn Sarvein-Demicos (Sister)
* Avalina Sarvein-Elatriel (Sister)
* ~~Deralynn Sarvein~~ (Wife)
* Delwynn Sarvein (Son)
* Darwynn II Sarvein (Daughter)
 **Coat of Arms**

**Darvesk Sarvein** is the second son of the late Dracos Sarvein and Aellyn Moonrunner. The former, a knighted veteran of the First War, and the latter the youngest daughter of a Thalassian senator. Growing up, Darvesk was well-educated in matters of history, diplomacy, and even the arcane - though he did not show as great an aptitude as some of his siblings, but his martial prowess was nearly peerless, save for that of his twin brother Vyrenus.

## Description

The second thing one would notice of Darvesk Sarvein is that he is built like a soldier. Broad shoulders, stout chest, a face that has been weathered by years and hardened by many wars. Hair cut unceremoniously unlike most other nobles, with cleanly trimmed whiskers and a beard being the only adorning features. He speaks in a deep, but commanding voice - a tone that does not require calling for attention, for the words he speaks and the way he says them do that themselves.

But the very first thing most would notice about Lord Sarvein are his eyes. Piercing gold eyes that seem to be able to peer into the very soul of a person. They are eyes hardened by strife and wizened by experience; and when he looks upon others, it is with a gaze that seems to weigh the strengths and weaknesses of whomever they fall upon.

Some may find his gaze inspiring - giving a sense of authority and charisma to this man. Others may find it terrifying, fearing that their deepest flaws and insecurities may boil to the surface if they stare into those amber eyes too long.

## Personality

Darvesk Sarvein is a tough but just lord - he will not abuse his subjects or act viciously towards them without provacation. However, he will never let any sleight towards his family stand, nor will he abide deviant behavior among his own. Though he could never be rightly described as benevolent, there was a time in his younger years when he was known to smile - something he is rumored to not have done since his wife Deralyn's passing.

Above all else, Darvesk is a man of utmost confidence who holds close to the value that any title that must be announced was never truly earned. If a lord must remind his subjects that he is their liege, then the man was never truly a lord to begin with. If a king must announce or have others announce him as king, then he is no king. He is a man who does not take part in pomp and extravagence - in fact those who attended his wedding to Lady Deralynn recall it being a rather dull affair as far as noble weddings go.

Darvesk values family and legacy above everything else. In his mind, everyone will one day return to the earth, rotting six feet under. Their faces and voices will be forgotten over time, but their legacy will be eternal. And for Darvesk Sarvein, there is nothing he will not do to ensure the safety of his family and legacy.

## Biography

### Early Life

Darvesk grew up closest with his eldest brother **Dacre**, his twin brother **Vyrenus**, and younger siblings **Aarvos** and **Darwyn**. Growing up, Darvesk was always envious of his brother Dacre's natural ability with magic - though arguably Aarvos and Darwyn had a stronger connection to the Light and Arcane respectively - Darvesk admired his brother's ability to perservere and push himself to rise to their level.

With his brother Vyrenus, Darvesk spent hours training and fighting at war in the courtyard of Hamleth. However, no matter how hard he fought, it would always seem that Vyrenus would eek out just slightly ahead - though the two never felt bad about it either way. Darvesk knew that if he trained enough and had the right tools at his disposal, he could eventually best his brother. These tools came in the form of runes; Dacre had begun to grow a bit tired of traditional Arcane and was expanding his studies to various other manifestations of magic, runic magic being one.

With Dacre's help, Darvesk created his very first runeblade. The next day on the yard, he found that he could swing harder, go for longer, and even manipulate the world around him thanks to the magic of the runes. It was his first time besting Vyrenus in their sparring sessions, and Darvesk could see the pride in his brother's face. It was short-lived, however, as Darvesk quickly learned that once he was disarmed and forced to fall back on his sidesword, Vyrenus quickly bested him.

Dacre approached Darvesk later that night and suggested an idea that sounded ludicrous at first, but made more sense the more Dacre explained it. If the runes empower the medium they are carved upon, then could Darvesk not simply bind the runes onto himself to draw on their power? They tried several ways - drawing the runes with ink seemed to have no effect. They tried tattooing a single rune on him, but the rune very quickly lost potency once the magic had been sapped from the ink. Then, Darvesk decided to do something extreme - using the same chisel he used to carve the runes upon his weapon, he carves a rune upon his flesh. This time, not only did it work, but unlike the tattoos there was no diminishing return. His lifeblood seemed to be able to fuel the runes - which meant that overexerting himself could result in physical damage to himself, or even death.

Dacre and Darvesk spent many nights theorizing and carefully experimenting, trying to find the balance of how much runic power Darvesk could fuel before it became too much. They discovered that his physical endurance played a key role in his ability to empower these runes, and over time he even learned how to control the activation of the runes to preserve his energy better. During these years while Dacre proceeded with his studies and experimented on runic magic with Darvesk, the two brothers formed a close bond - arguably even closer than with his twin Vyrenus.

### Young Love

As the Sarvein boys entered their teen years, Baron Dracos began to bring them to the capital with him more and more often. What was once passing flights of bonding with their loving father became a weekend of lessons and tedious reviews. At the time, the boys found parliament and governance incredibly dreary - all except for Dacre, who seemed to relish in politics. And he had a natural skill for it - he was certainly the sharpest-tongued of all his siblings, and despite being a bit of a pale sickly teen, he found that he was ten feet tall in the arena of politics.

Whilst on one of these trips with his father, in 609 K.Y., Darvesk met a young Quel'dorei woman in the capitol by the name of Deralynn Duskenlight. She was absolutely singular, and Darvesk was utterly smitten by her. Though normally very confident and strong-willed, Darvesk found himself quivering when trying to talk to her. Words became impossible to leave his lips without stuttering and he felt his cheeks redden against his pale face. Deralynn seemed to absolutely delight in toying with the nervous Darvesk, being a rather whimsical and mischievous woman she devised all manner of ways to "get" Darvesk. For the next 3years, the two would continue their courtship during their respective trips to the capitol, until one night - the fondest memory Darvesk has. One cold winter night on the eve of Winter's Veil, when Darvesk and Deralynn spent their first night of passion together.

### The Third War

Merely days after their night of passion, a call to arms is sent out across the Alliance: Prince Arthas Menethil has returned from Northrend and murdered his father, and now lays waste to Loraderon. With the roads to Quel'thalas no longer safe, Darvesk insisted that Deralynn return to Hamleth with him where she will be safe; promising that he will write her if he hears anything about her father or family. Once back in Valen, Darvesk, Vyrenus, and Aarvos prepare for war. As their father's health is too poor, Dacre remains behind to serve as Lord of Valen. Within a few days, the three Sarvein brothers and a company of their household guard ride north to mete justice to the traitor prince.

By the time they join with the Alliance forces in Lordaeron, they realize it is too late. Arthas had left the capitol of Lordaeron in ruin, with the very soil of the country blighted by dark magic in his wake. The living dead roamed the streets that were once flush with life, and Darvesk witnessed horrors he could never conceive of in those blackened lands. The company he and his brothers were assigned to fought bravely and fiercely, each soldier killing scores of undead. However, there seemed to be no end - and the Undead's numbers simply rose as more of their men fell to battle, exposure, and disease.

They did not make it far past the Undead forces that Arthas left in his wake before needing to retreat. It was a living nightmare - it was Darvesk's very first war, the very first time he saw men fall in battle, and it was the very first time he heard the chilling and wailing screams of a man being torn apart and eaten alive. His screeching wails of agony, the desperate cries to his gods for a reprieve, and the incoherent calls for his mother - the cacophony of anguish will forever haunt Darvesk's dreams.

The company was finally forced to fully retreat. They had lost over half of the men they had when first entering Lordaeron, and those that remained were shaken and horrified by what they saw. No one slept during the retreat, not really - how could they? All any could hear upon closing their eyes was the wails of their fallen comrade begging for his mother. The horrible wet tearing and popping sounds as bone and sinew were torn and the sickening crunching and slurping as the ghouls feasted on the poor lad. The news from the frontlines didn't help them sleep any easier - reports came in of Arthas's rampage across Quel'thalas, bound for Silvermoon. Silvermoon, where Deralynn's entire family was. Darvesk did not want to linger in Lordaeron one moment longer than he would need to - but he wasn't sure what he dreaded more; encountering the living dead or knowing that upon returning to Valen he would need to break the horrible news to Deralynn.

### Homecoming

Nearly a year passed before Darvesk and his company could return home. By then only a handful of the original men of their company remained, and those that had made it through were forever changed. When Darvesk saw his reflection, he nearly didn't recognize himself. Despite being in his mid twenties, he looked like he had aged nearly twenty years in the war. His hair in the sides of his head were graying, crows feet were forming at the rounds of his eyes, and wrinkles had begun to form - ever so faint, but unmistakably there - in his face.

He dreaded returning home the entire journey, up until the moment he walked into the halls of Hamleth, entered his chambers, and found Deralynn there, with a baby at her breast. However, the face that Deralynn wore was not that of a joyous mother. It was the same sullen face Darvesk wore the whole march south. He knew at once that she had heard the news of her home, and had likely been grieving alone this whole time. It was the first moment in his entire life that Darvesk felt powerless. He wanted nothing more in the world than to make this woman - the mother of his children, the woman he loved - feel better, to be happy and smile again. But how could he? He could not raise the dead - and even if he could, would she really want her family returned to her as ravenous, cold, cruel, monsters?

It was a bittersweet homecoming, but at least now he was home - home with his brothers, his mother and father, his beloved, and their young son. A half-elf boy they named Rickon. However, even his brother Dacre seemed changed - whilst they were gone fighting in Lordaeron, Dacre had grown more reclusive according to Darwyn. He had taken to locking himself in the study, buried in very old books and had been sending for all manner of odd curios and ponderous tomes. Dacre's eyes were constantly red from sleepless nights, dark bags of fatigue had formed in his eyes and he had grown so pale now that Darvesk could see right through his brother's skin.

As if the situation wasn't grim enough, Baron Dracos's health had turned for the worse, and the lord was now on his deathbed, given all manner of potions to help ease his pain but keep his mind clouded.