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Name Faction Server Race Class Level Guild Rank
Navre Horde 15 Feathermoon IconSmall Tauren Female Ui-charactercreate-classes druid Druid 70 Seawolves Sergeant
Name Faction Server Race Class Level Guild Rank

Navre: Justified or Broken?

Navre is a Tauren Druidess, who was born along the rising landscapes of Thousand Needles, upon Dark Cloud Pinnacle. She is roughly 52 yeard old (age of Tauren is about 2x that of humans, so she would be in her early 20's). This tauren is of the Grimtotem tribe, the herd that is notorious among the Tauren. They are led by the powerful shaman Magatha Grimtotem, who gained leadership after marrying the previous leader, who shortly after died in an "unforeseen climbing accident", something Navre harbors to this day.

Navre grew up along the sandy ridges of Thousand Needles, and there are unclear parts of her youth. From an early age, she was blessed with 'visions' -- Visions that sometimes eluded towards the path of death one would take or giftings that would come -- more often than not, they were omens of bad things. This set her apart from the other tribal members, who both sought out and shunned the tauren. She became inclined towards animals and nature, whom accepted her where the Tauren of her tribe and others would not, even making friends of rocks and trees.

Along the fray of society she lived, never speaking up. She lived as this, hardly bothering with the politics of the time until she had a terrible dream. In it, the visions of Magatha, an upcoming elder within the Grimtotem tribe gaining power steadily and the horrid screams of a male Tauren. Navre, for once in her young life, chose to speak up and tried to warn the Grimtotem leader -- though he would have heard none of it and Navre was shunned entirely from the tribe. Banished, she could no longer dwell with the tribe nor did she have the gumption to live among the Bluff in Mulgore. She could visit, but only under the mask of shadows or the evening skies, when many chose to sleep. There, she could wander the Bluff virually unnoticed.

Life went on, and soon she came under a precarious following of Magatha. Despite their frictions, Magatha sent of Navre to the Undercity to study and work with the Apothicarians there on a cure for the illness that had struck the plague victims. She was paired with a warlock, whom for a long time she would find bodies for, usually carrion from the wars and small battles in the Barrens. She would bring them to his home in Silverpine and his work would continue long into the evening. She learned how to skin, how to embalm practically from this experience. They had an endering, platonic relationship, even though it could be said that Navre was quite affectionate to him. This was pure delight, an unknown feeling, until the Scarlets discovered the warlock's lair while Navre was out body-seeking one evening. They took of the warlock and she never saw of him again. She returned to the broken home in Silverpine, finding blood and the stench of humans.

Navre always felt regret though for having not been there to save him, to have saved all the Forsaken for their trials. For there, the Forsaken almost seemed more welcoming of her and her odd ways than back home among the other tauren tribes. She regets it, angry at the zealous humans for taking the being whom accepted her fully thus far.

She soon joined up with the Horde Swashbucklers, and for a time she was happy among them. Though she was quickly led into the spot light of becoming an officer and then First mate. Shortly after the portal opened, she and some others from the sea fairing crew split off from the Swashbucklers to form the Blackwater Raiders (of the Seawolves by prior name), with ties back to the Steamwheedle Cartel of the goblins. Their purpose was running goods and monies between Azeroth and the Outlands. From her time with the Swashies, new alliances were forged out particularly between her and The Undead Legion. Her fondness of the Forsaken, as a whole, as remained connected to her.

Of the Outlands, her travels were largely burdoned by only herself. Foraging through Hellfire, she came across something odd in Terrokar Forest. It was the devistation of the Cenarion Thicket. Only the leader of the Cenarion Thicket survived, Warden Treelos. He went mad, though, and was found talking about teatime and how it's watching him. Earthbinder Tavgren, a Cenarion tauren druid returning from a scouting mission, found the Thicket devastated and with all druids, bar Treelos, dead.

Navre tried to get any information from the lost druid, though to no avail. He lashed out at her, splashing a strange aura of glimmering sand into her face with cackles of madness. Her right eye was smothered with it, almost leaving her blind. To this day, she wears a thick green lens over it or a hood over her entire face. Her mood also had shifted, the strange manaesque glimmer caught in that eye. Her solitude was broken, and she found her strength in Halaa, of Nagrand.

Whatever occured in Terrokar that night, shifted her mood and her mindset. A new ferver held onto her, choking her almost. She would not lose something so dear again. She was never the same,she would not be the same. Perhaps the mood of the area affected her or the strange aura that burns into her fur. The maddess burns. She won't be denied, again.


By trade, Navre is a skinner and an herbalist.

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