Drewzelle Swiftblade

BASICS

Name: Drewzelle Esania Swiftblade (all but Esania is made up)

Nicknames/Aliases: Drew

Wealth Status: She has what she needs and steals what she wants

Quote: "Most everyone who knows of me fears me. Those who do not fear me spend their last few seconds alive realizing they should have. You should always fear the crazy person."

Age: 127

Race: Blood Elf | Sin’dorei

Gender: Female

Picture: (working on it)

Hair Color: Red with Brown undertones

Hair Style: Straight and tied into a high-ponytail with fly-aways and bits of hair hanging around her face

Eye Color: Bright green before, Bright, glowing green after

Complexion: Pale, but with warm undertones (a little lighter than #FFCF9E)

Attire: Drewzelle’s colors of choice are greens and dark browns, as they usually air in letting her go unseen. She wears leather armor with all sorts of pockets, both hidden and obvious. She also wears a dark but lightly mottled cloak that shows many signs of wear.

Place of Birth: Falconwing Square (Ruins of Silvermoon)


CLASS

Class: Rogue

Level: 75

Talent Tree: Subtlety

Specialization Skills: Herbalism, Alchemy

Weaponry: Focuses on Daggers and Thrown Weapons, but is still proficient with Swords

Weaknesses: Due to her wearing leather armor for mobility, Drewzelle has a weak defense and cannot survive extended combat with fighters who use heavy weaponry. She also relies on poisons and the element of surprise for most of her damage output, and has less survivability when she loses either. Furthermore, her mentally unstable sate often leads to her putting herself into very dangerous situations.

Strengths: Drewzelle’s affinity for alchemy is her greatest asset. Her poisons help in combat, and her elixirs help her sustainability. She is also extremely agile and acrobatic, making her very hard to hit. In addition, being a subtlety rogue makes her an expert at stealth and vanishing out of thin air.

Special Touch: Drewzelle leaves no particular “signature” on her kills, but the death zone is always left in a manner that would leave anyone confused.

Class Specific Information: Stealth (duh)


THE WAR

Alignment: Neutral, but usually prefers the Horde due to is higher tolerance for violence

Morality: Drewzelle was born mentally unstable (perhaps from Sunwell exposure, birth complications, who knows), and her less than pleasant life has driven her to insanity. Due to her madness, the life of others has little meaning to her, but she doesn’t have a hunger for blood to sate. She’ll kill out of necessity or just for the hell of it. Life is a game to her, and she has no remorse for breaking the rules.


RELATIONSHIPS

Family: She doesn’t even know, as she was raised an orphan

Significant Other: She doesn’t currently have one, but the spot is open to anyone with enough self-hate to fill it

Loyalties: Drewzelle is not someone who could be called loyal. In her mind, loyalty lasts only as long as the contract.

Allies: Aerithe. Dawnstriker. She is the stalked and Drewzelle is the stalker. No one really knows, including Drewzelle herself, why the obsession is there, but there it is.

Foes: She’s made quite a few, but some in particular are T'orak and Darkstorm, as they are close friends of Aerithe. She sees them as rivals that must be eliminated.


OTHER

Habits/Quirks: Drewzelle herself is a quirk, but an odd quirk of hers is that she must always have clean hands.

Personality: Drewzelle only cares about herself, end of story. If you manage to befriend her without her deciding to kill you, she may extend some form of kindness to you, but will never risk her life or safety to save yours. Never. She is sarcastic, ruthless, maniacally insane, and won’t show mercy to anyone if it means she will come off better than she is. Don’t expect sympathy either; if you are injured or otherwise disabled, she will not hesitate to see that as a weakness and will do away with you. But all of this aside, Drewzelle is usually pretty upbeat, albeit upbeat usually coincides with the misery of others.

History: Abandoned at birth, Drewzelle grew up facing a hard life and soon learned you could not truly trust anyone but yourself to be there for you. Unfortunately, she was born mentally ill and the lack of treatment cause irreversible damage and the onset of her insanity. She became a rogue, living off of food and supplies she stole because she could. Her thievery started out small, but as she got older, there was not a vendor alive that was safe. Now practically an adult, she travels where she pleases, offering herself as an assassin, spy, and thief for hire.

Misc: Despite everything, Drewzelle is actually quite intelligent. If it were not for her insanity problem, Drewzelle could have grown up to be a doctor, lawyer, or something else like that.


EXAMPLE OF YOUR ROLE-PLAYING STYLE
“Bothersome,” muttered a voice that reminded one of a cobra about to strike. The source of the voice, a Blood Elf rogue was staring intently at a heavy, jewel encrusted lockbox, surrounded by a large patrol of Dwarves. She knew what was inside, she had been spying on these fools making it for the past few weeks, and in her mind, it was already hers; these unlucky midgets were just delivering it to the wrong person. She guessed they were heading to Stormwind, as the person who the Dwarves were delivering it to was one of Stormwind’s finest assassins, but they wouldn’t even see Goldshire again, let alone the marvelous city that was their destination. But something was missing…ah, she couldn’t bother herself with minor things, she needed to attack now.

Quietly she crept around so she would be at the prime angle to attack, positioning herself behind a rather portly version of a Dwarf. As she crept closer, she could smell alcohol radiating from the patrol. “Could they make their deaths any quicker?” she thought to herself, laughing in her head. With a quick flick of her hand, poisoned knives flew everywhere, sinking themselves into every Dwarf on the patrol. She quickly dealt with the portly Dwarf in front of her, a few stabs in the back with her two poisoned daggers and he would never drink another stein of beer again. The others who were finally realizing what was happening rushed to attack her, but found they could not. Weaving in and out of the way, Drewzelle laughed insanely as the Dwarves’ hatchets and swords found there way into bodies of their allies. With a few more stabs and swipes, the entire patrol was dead, lying in bloody heaps on the forest floor. Not bothering to wipe the blood from her clothes or her daggers, she walked over to the lockbox and opened it with a few twists of a tiny stiletto she had pulled from a hidden sheath in her glove.

She marveled at the contents, a single, simple dagger, yet it was made to be the best dagger ever created. The blade was made with black metal, burned so its sheen wouldn’t give it away; the hilt the same, yet with a single red teardrop shaped ruby in the center. Grabbing the fine dagger by its black leather grip, se rammed one of her other daggers into the nearest body and after quickly covering the blade with her finest poison, she stood up. She surveyed the damage she had caused in the scant few minutes she had been fighting. “Not bad,” she whispered to herself. But a call behind her ruined the moment. “HEY YOU!!! She twirled around to face another Dwarf and her mind clicked. This is who was missing, the man she realized as the true crafter of the dagger she was holding in her main hand. His face was contorted in rage and fury, “YOU SPINELESS SCUM!!! YOU KILLED MY COMRADES, NOW I SHALL KILL YOU!!!” Drewzelle smirked as he ran toward her, armed with two maces. Without warning, she darted forward and ran the Dwarf through the heart with his own creation. As he fell she spoke in her deathly soft voice, “This is a fine dagger; you did well,” She smiled maliciously as the light faded from his eyes, “I will make sure it is put to good use.” The Dwarf looked at her with utmost hatred as she turned to walk away, but Death caught up to him. Looking back at him, Drewzelle said softly, “It is a pity you died consumed with hate, but them again, why do I care?” With smirk, she disappeared into the forest, the wreck of her insanity a warning to anyone who dare keep what she wants from her.