Caelic is a World of Warcraft role-playing persona that was originally created on the Darkmoon Faire EU RP server in January of 2007. Her persona is based on that of a female draenei paladin, originating from the world of Argus. As of 26th June 2009, Caelic calls Argent Dawn EU RP server her home.
Like many of her race, Caelic possesses an ethereal like beauty, a beauty that, whilst alien to the denizens of Azeroth, can still be appreciated. Her skin is a dark azure hue, smooth and flawless, unblemished and unscathed - amazing considering her long and battle-weary life. Her eyes glow with an iridescent pale blue light, common to most draenei. Her horns recurve upwards and appear quite long and delicate, like a scimitar blade - a feature that shows her age, as many younger female draenei bear thicker, shorter horns. Furthermore her teeth, tail and ears (which have numerous ear rings and cuffs running up the lobes) are far more elongated and pointed because of her eredun origins, and distinguishes her from her now draenei kin.
Her body is lithe and toned and she possesses an almost elven delicate elegance, whilst at the same time exudes a presence that shows she can hold her own in battle. Caelic's most prominent feature is her hair, which is lengthy and perfectly maintained. It is a light shade of turquoise, and flows like liquid down her back, right down to her tail. It is well kempt and neatly frames her face as it is parted slightly to the side. Adorning it are numerous plaits and braids woven delicately and carefully, which lace throughout and drape over her shoulders in an almost njordic, vrykul-esque style.
Overall her general presence is one of strength, piety and dignity and yet shows a somewhat delicate, vulnerable and deeply feminine quality beneath.
Caelic was born into the noble family of Lightvayne, more than 25 thousand years ago, on her homeworld of Argus. The Lightvayne family were a highly respected noble house, within the Argussian capital of Mac'Aree, with her father, Caelfus, serving as one the high Justicars on the Eredar council within the great, glimmering city. She is the eldest of four siblings who despite being family were also her very best friends. There was a closeness that bound the sibling together, and still resides even to very this day.
When she came of age, Caelic was invited to study the righteous arts, at the Academy of Mac'Aree, which was quite an honour considering only the most capable of eredar were accepted to study there. It was there, Caelic learned the ways of the Paladin, and how to wield the light as a weapon against the darkness. Her training came on leaps and bounds, and she excelled beyond any of the other students. Her stubborn and somewhat obsessive personality served to push her further, trying to perfect her training and knowledge. As her chosen elective, Caelic tried her hand at blacksmithing, harbouring a desire to forge her own weapons to use against her foes, but alas, this was one area where she could not grasp perfection. As a paradox to her other studies, her attempts in blacksmithing continued to fail. Her mentor, Archon Najessalen, put to her a suggestion of changing her elective from blacksmithing, to the art of enchanting and the eredar's natural proficiency; jewelcrafting. Najessalen’s suggestion was slightly off-putting to the blossoming paladin, as she had always seen enchanting as wizard studies, and not the steely studies that a paladin would venture into, however the suggestion of jewelcrafting piqued the paladin's interest. Her respect for her mentor outweighed were doubts for her studies however, and so she willingly accepted the change. As it turned out, Caelic flourished in her pursuits, her sponge-like mind absorbing the knowledge required for enchanting and her delicate hands perfect for the intricate work required for crafting jewels, and she soon caught up to the other students in her new vocations. In the brief moments of reprieve between her various studies, Caelic loved to journey down to the glistening rivers of Argus with her siblings, and fish by their shining shores. The rivers were a beauty to behold, for they glittered even if the skies were in complete darkness. She loved the peaceful tranquility of sitting, waiting for her line to catch one of the glimmer fins or argussian trout that populated the great rivers. Her life was perfect.
On the eve after her graduation from the academy, into to the ranks of the Argussian Justicars, everything changed. Not just for Caelic, but for her race and for Argus itself. That eve, Sargeras, Destroyer of Worlds, had offered the triumvirate of leaders, Archimonde, Kil'jaeden and Velen, unquestionable power, in return for their loyalty. Sargeras claimed he was impressed by the work of the eredar: he wanted to supply them with even more power and knowledge, in exchange for their loyalty. But while Kil'jaeden and Archimonde readily accepted the deal, Velen had a vision of the future that filled him with dread. He saw the dark future his people were heading towards: siding with the dark titan Sargeras and transformed into demons. Velen saw the Legion in all its terrible might and witnessed the destruction it would wreak upon all of creation. He hastened to warn Kil'jaeden and Archimonde, but they dismissed his concerns and proceeded to profess loyalty to the Destroyer of Worlds. Together, the latter transformed a majority of their people into an insidious race of warlocks and allied themselves with the Burning Legion. Destruction swept across Mac’Aree, those who did not submit to the Legion’s power were destroyed, or worse, made an example of before the rest of the population. Into the fray, Caelic and her siblings went, battling with fervor against their oppressors. Amidst they fire and bloodshed, Caelic stumbled across her mother and father. She was overjoyed to find them still alive, but her joy was short lived. A feeling of dread overcame her, as she saw her beloved parents, kneeling before the two betrayers, Archimonde and Kil’jaeden. The two demonlords grinned a toothy grin at the young paladin, and ushered their two newest followers to destroy her. She stood still, unable to move as the battle of morals waged in her mind. Could she really destroy her own flesh and blood? Her mother struck at her, to which Caelic promptly parried, and then dodged the attack from her father. The two struck away, forcing Caelic back, each time choosing to take the defensive in order to not harm her loved ones. But the two were too much for the young eredar, and she fell to floor, her father’s blade held aloft before her, ready to plunge. The sword moved forward but did not meet its target. Najessalen had interceded the blade’s path, and it struck deep into his chest. The archon beckoned Caelic to run, he told her where she could find Velen, and the remaining eredar who remained loyal. She rose up, standing stoically before her former parents and gave one last glance to her beloved mentor, who had been flung carelessly to the floor. Snapping out her mace, the paladin smashed it into the side of her father’s face, laying him low, before spinning around on herself, parrying her mothers blade and cracking her mother’s hand, forcing her to drop her weapon. The two exchanged a look, deep into one another’s eyes, but Caelic knew her mother was gone, consumed by the demon’s fire. She took a deep breath and then ran, to find her remaining family.
Within the main plaza of the city, she found them, wounded but still fighting again the Legion’s forces. She shouted to them, to follow her to Velen. The four of them dashed towards the beacon of light in the sky, where they knew Velen would be waiting for them, dodging fire and swords and arrows alike. Upon reaching the great elder of the eredar, they pledged their loyalty to the true eredar. Velen explained that he nearly despaired, but his prayers for help were answered. A being came to Velen and explained that it was one of the naaru, a race of sapient energy beings bent on stopping the Burning Legion. The naaru offered to take Velen and any other like-minded eredar to safety. Deeply relieved, Velen had been gathering the other eredar loyal to him, and had sent out Najessalen to find Caelic and her siblings. Naming themselves the 'draenei', or "exiled ones" in the Eredun language, the renegades barely escaped from Argus in the naaru ship Oshu'gun, with the Burning Legion hot on their heels. Caelic knew it was but a short reprieve from the bloodshed however, as Kil'jaeden was furious with what he felt was Velen's betrayal, and the demon vowed to hunt Velen and the rest of the draenei to the ends of the cosmos if need be.
The Legion chased the draenei for many thousands of years. The draenei visited many worlds and explored much of the known cosmos in their quest to find safe harbor. Still the Legion, under the guidance of a hell-bent Kil'jaeden, would not give up its pursuit. Meanwhile, the enigmatic naaru race blessed the draenei with Light-given knowledge and power, to which Caelic absorbed, much like she had done with her studies upon Argus. The naaru explained that there were other forces in the cosmos that would stand against the Burning Legion. One day the naaru would forge them into a single unstoppable army of the Light. Deeply affected by the naaru's words, Caelic and the draenei vowed to honour the Light and uphold the naaru's altruistic ideals, and pledged their arms to the cause.
At last Caelic and the draenei settled upon a remote and peaceful world that seemed an ideal refuge. They named it Draenor, or "Exiles' Refuge", and there they quietly cultivated their society once again. Ever wary of being discovered again by Kil'jaeden's forces, Velen and his mystics kept their magic hidden for generations. However, no amount of preparation could keep the draenei hidden forever; eventually Kil'jaeden, in his quest to find more minions of the Legion, stumbled upon the planet and found the draenei. But, his attention was soon fixed on the neighboring orcs. Intrigued, Kil'jaeden realized that they were exactly the race of warriors he was looking for and soon succeeded in corrupting the orcs through his protégé Gul'dan. Smoothly manipulated from a state of wary acceptance into blind rage and blood lust, the orcs attacked the draenei, sweeping across the world of Draenor, the orc’s newly acquired shadow magic causing devastation to the realm, tearing it asunder and leaving behind the realm of Outland which it is known as currently. Before the shattering of Draenor, the Temple of Karabor (now known as the Black Temple), served as a sacred site to the draenei and refuge to the Prophet Velen. Shortly after the formation of the Horde, Gul'dan ordered the temple conquered, and transformed it into the headquarters for the Shadow Council. This bloody conflict lasted nearly eight years, but the orcs' triumph was univocal. Fleeing from the Temple, the draenei left behind most of their possessions; armour, weapons and trinkets alike, adding to their increasing defenselessness. The orcs killed over eighty percent of the draenei race, and sent the rest fleeing from the Temple for safety to the remote corners of the world. Draenei who had fought the Horde and survived found that they had been affected by the fel energies wielded so freely by the orc warlocks. These draenei who were affected have since mutated into lesser forms, resulting in a series of subspecies. Velen, Caelic and the draenei of the Temple stayed in hiding, preparing their ship to once again travel the universe for a new home.
When the armies of the Alliance, poured through the Dark Portal, led by Khadgar and his expedition in an attempt to destroy the Horde, Velen thought to seize this opportunity. He requested to Caelic that she return through the Dark Portal, in search of either another refuge, some possible allegiance or hopefully both. The forces of the Alliance were obviously opposed to the orcs, who had so brutally slaughtered the draenei people, and so it only stood to reason, that the enemy of their enemy would be their friend. Caelic gladly accepted the quest, and prepared everything for her long, and perhaps perilous journey into the mysterious world of Azeroth.
She trekked across the wastelands of Hellfire Peninsula, clad in armour that barely offered any protection, the Dark Portal looming on the horizon. ‘Not far now’ she thought to herself. The echoes of war, the screams of battle rang out across the landscape. She could see the two factions battling desperately, blood staining the ground beneath them. With steely resolve, Caelic ran, the Portal not 200 yards away. She prayed to the naaru, that some manner of friend or help would be on the other side. It couldn’t be any worse than what her people had faced thus far. As she climbed the stairs of the great structure, she could feel the air grow denser. A few more steps and she would discover the salvation, or the ruination of the draenei. Her pursuit was abruptly ended however, as from behind, a great net, large enough to catch a clefthoof struck her down, and she was surrounded by a dozen, pink skinned men and women. They looked at her with horror and bewilderment, and one of them prodded her with the blunt end of his spear. The biggest and burliest of the men grabbed a hold of the large net, and dragged it and her towards a tented area, which seemingly looked like some form of command post. She was thrown down before the feet of a man, clad in intricate and expensive looking armour, he was obviously someone of importance to those men, but Caelic could not understand what was being said. What was obvious was that they did not think she was a friend.
The humans conversed for hours, and shot a glance at the disheveled draenei, huddled in a corner, chained to the ground. It was clear they did not trust her, but she did not know what the men were going to do with her. The conversation was cut short, as a great wailing sounded in the sky, followed by a thundering crash as the ground shook and cracked apart. The soldiers looked panicked and ran outside the tent to see to the commotion. Caelic was too busy noting where the men were going to notice that since the ground has smashed, her chains that held her there had come loose. She looked around, fearfully. One of the men screamed then came flying through the open doorway, a crude axe embedded deep within his chest. She knew those axes… Orcs. The paladin pulled free from her chains, and staggered to her feet. Peering out through the doorway, she could see yet another battle raging; the orcs were slaughtering her human captors. She collected her armour, weapon and other belongings and dashed outside, hoping that the distraction of battle would provide ample cover for her escape, and it did. The humans were too busy with the orcs to notice Caelic’s swift departure. She ran to ascend the stairs once again, hoping the world on the other side of the portal would bring more peace. But, as she reached a quarter of the way, she looked back at the carnage before her, orc and human bodies strewn across the stones, neither side seemed to be winning, just a complete massacre of both races. She knew what she must do. Composing herself, Caelic charged back down the stairs, straight towards the encroaching orcs, the mark of the naaru glowing bright upon her brow. She ducked an oncoming attack from an orc axe and spun, cracking the back of the orc’s head, shattering it beneath the might of her hammer. The orc buckled to the floor. Not staying still for long, Caelic turned again, parrying each attack, and absorbing them on her shield, blocking dodging, and striking at the orcs as they poured in, each falling as the light of Caelic’s holy power shone brighter. The humans looked at each other, wide eyed, disbelieving; she was on their side! They took up arms and rushed in to the draenei’s aid, cutting down one orc after another, the sound of crunching bones echoed in the night sky. The orcs numbers soon dwindled before the renewed vigour of the Alliance’s forces, and they turned to retreat back behind their own lines. The humans cheered at the fleeing orcs, laughing and jeering and sending a storm of arrows raining down into the orc’s backs, laying them low. As the crowds cheered with strengthened morale, the intricate armour clad leader made his way over to Caelic. She turned to meet him, and he gave her an appreciative nod. The two understood one another, despite their differing language. He beckoned her into the tent, along with two other men, adorned like priests. As the two priests dressed the draenei’s wounds, the captain took out a parchment and began to write down various notes. He rolled up the scroll, wrapped a red ribbon around it and dribbled some wax from a nearby candle onto the bow, imprinting it with his seal. He handed the scroll to the draenei, then gestured toward a suit of armour, hung up to the side. Caelic looked at the human, unsure of what he was implying. The commander pointed at the confused draenei, and then to the armour again. Caelic stood, and walked over to the armour, which seemed to have been carefully crafted and almost as intricate as the commanders’. Caelic looked back to the man, who gave an approving nod, then proceeded to adorn herself, attaching the greaves as best she could around her hocked legs. It fit rather snugly, despite her obvious anatomical differences to the humans the armour was crafter for. The commander smiled and led her outside, pointing to the Dark Portal. In the best way he could, he explained to give the scroll to the leader on the other side. Placing the scroll in her pack, Caelic ascended the stairs, finally, and made her way through the great portal, the sound of cheers fading into the distance.
With their final push, the Argent Crusade stormed the gates of Icecrown Citadel felling undead after undead under the might of the Ashbringer and a crusade of paladins alike. Caelic, alongside Tirion Fordring and her commerades of The Flaming Ruby lead the charge into the dread citadel, the stench of death permeating the air. Waves of deathless warriors assailed the attackers, each one destroyed by the Crusade's might. The advantage was soon theirs, and they began to establish a foothold in the lower chambers, comprised of makeshift walls of broken armour and scourge bodies.
That night was a sleepless one. The voices of the departed cried out to the soldiers, sapping the warmth from the air around them. Every now and then a Scourge strike force emerged from the great stairwell and struck at the Argent Foothold, but it was to no avail. Holy flames and hardened steel struck each of them down before they could even reach the camp. All looked well to the unwary crusaders.
Early the next morning, Tirion ordered for Caelic, and his most steely knights to advance further into the fortress. The decision was not met with the greatest enthusiasm, but they concurred none the less. After some slight preparation and reinforcement of the foothold, the Ashbringer Battalion charged forth deeper into the frozen abyss. At first the resistance from the Scourge was pitiful, and the Battalion made great advancement into the heart of Icecrown. The inner halls of the Citadel were grand, and even the slightest sound reverberated off the saronite walls. It was a dark, and lifeless place, truely befitting the denizens inside. Once the Battalion struck down the remaining Scourge forces, they took a few minutes to recover and catch some breath. Around the edges of the room, the undead waited, unmoving. They did not advance upon the paladins who stood entrenched in the centre of the chamber. Caelic questioned Tirion as to what his next move would be, to which he replied the Foothold would move in to occupy the inner sanctum. With an understanding nod, Caelic agreed with the paladin's decision and prepared to lead a few members of the Battalion back to collect the Foothold and begin its relocation.
The hope that had been building was soon swept away however. The surrounding Scourge in the great central hall retreated, and left the Battalion feeling victorious. At that moment the air went still and a ghostly laughter echoed throughout the room. Tirion and Caelic glanced about frantically, trying to find the source of the laughter, but in their hearts they knew: The Lich King had come.
The Battalion jumped to their feet, weapons in hand. The bravery that had not so long since stood defiant against the Scourge was slowly draining away. Tirion ordered a charge, and the Battalion launched themselves towards their towering foe. The clash of steel rang out in the vast chamber, the screams of pain accompanying them as the Lich King cut down knight after knight beneathe the might of Frostmourne. "Fall back!" Tirion bellowed, as he began to surrender his ground that he had only just claimed. The Battalion turned to make for the doorway back to the Argent Foothold, but the undead had moved to block their path. There was no escape.
Realising their fate, realising their efforts had come to an end, the remaining members of the Battalion, Caelic and Tirion turned back to the Lich King, and with a tenacious battlecry charged straight in, blades drawn. The Lich King thrust toward the advancing force, swinging wildly, felling the fearful soldiers. Caelic dodged the wild swings of the dread blade, barrel rolled to the side and stuck at Arthas' flank causing the angered King to swat her away with a swipe of his hand, sending her flying back behind him laying her low. Tirion called out for her, but Caelic was too disorientated to reply. He clashed the Ashbringer again Frostmourne, spraying sparks about the ground. The Lich King brought his blade up high and then slashed it down upon the aged paladin, knocking him down. With a penetrating fear, Arthas loomed over his enemies, grining with victory underneath his deathly helm. The grin was stole away, however, as from the entrance a great flash of light emerged and the undead surrounding it fell burning to the floor. Tirion looked back to see that the troops from the Argent Foothold has heard the cries of battle and come to reinforce their leader's assault. Arthas snarled and turned back to Tirion, raising Frostmourne above the paladin, ready to strike. Súrion launched a blast of nature toward the imposing King, distracting him and giving Fordring the precious time he needed to move from beneathe the blade and join his commerades in the battle. Behind, Caelic still layed, dazed. With a heavy heart, Tirion ordered a full retreat, and ushered the remaining troops back out of the great chamber. Súrion glared at him, urgingly. "Caelic?" he questioned. With a sigh, Tirion told him "It is too late, we must fall back. I cannot risk loosing the whole Battalion". Súrion looked horrified with the paladin's decision, but he knew his words were wise. The Battalion charged back, through the ranks of the undead and back down stairs into the hall that held the Foothold. Súrion glanced back at Caelic, who had shaken her daze away and now watched her friends disappear into the darkness, leaving her behind. She looked, with a confused look, at Súrion, and with a tearful glance he disappeared too. The world seemed to fall away to the young draenei, as she watched her friends, her loved ones abandon her to death. All her efforts had been for naught. She had lost.
The undead stood poised, ready to give chase. "Leave them", the Lich King commanded. "Their time will come soon enough". With a grin once again branded upon his face, he turned to Caelic, who layed forlornly upon the floor. He strode over to her, and raising the runeblade Frostmourne high in the air, whispered "I have what I came for".