Who am I? What is my purpose on this path? What do I wish to accomplish?

Araatris sat on an outcropping high above where the Satyr milled about below her. It was risky, but the provided a focus for her meditations. It was a constant reminder about what she was doing.

My name is Araatris Valryss, but I no longer my parent’s daughter. I have not followed their path, but I have followed their hearts. They gave themselves that others might live. I’ve already checked with Dalaran… their deaths were confirmed. They didn’t make it. I must become my own person. From this day, I must think of myself as Valryss no longer. I must distance myself from the personal rage. Or else… I might lose myself.

The demonic voices echoed below and Araatris frowned. A breeze brought a nauseous smell with it. Hooves clacked upon the rocky outcropping and Araatris grumbled softly. Picking up the blades on her lap, she faced her lone foe. It grinned menacingly at her. “Do you think that you can stop us?”

Araatris flashed a grin. “Me? I can only put a dent in your plans, but there are more. There are always more that are willing to fight you. I am insignificant in comparison with that. But…” Her look turned fierce. “I am sure that I’m more than enough to stop you and keep you from causing any more harm. For now, that is enough.”

“You talk big little girl. You’ll find it’s a dangerous to let your tongue flap so much.” Its smile was gone. Eyes were narrowed and it’s grip had tightened on it’s weapon. Muscles bulged and it moved into a half crouch.

Araatris activated her blindfold with a murmur and circled the satyr. It cautiously turned with her and watched her. A crack sounded behind it causing it to turn slightly. Her distraction had worked well-enough. She leapt into the opening dealing a couple of deep slashes and a shallow stab. It twisted away and snarled at her. “Same trick won’t work twice.”

Her lips pulled up on the right, “It won’t need to.” Araatris tossed down some power momentarily cutting herself off from sight. It made things a bit fuzzier for her, but she was used enough to that with her regular sight. Anything that cut off their sight also cut off hers. She slipped around it.

It roared in fustration and seemed to be blindly striking out in the smoke. She could see him though with this half-sight. This felsight. He glowed even in the smoke. A beacon of light for her blades to seek.

A well-placed hit stunned the demon and Araatris made quick work on it’s backside. She’d found that demons were similar enough to have the same weaknesses in battle. A mortal wound was still a mortal wound. The body slumped forward with vile fluids pouring from the wounds.

“Who are you?” Blood seeped from its mouth and it coughed.

Araatris smiled darkly. “Araatris, a demon hunter in training. I shall bring your death, and you will not hear me coming. I will keep you and your kind in check. We will survive and we do not need you.” She watched as the light in its eyes flickered and slowly died.

I am Araatris of the Netherbane, a demon hunter in training. I fight to rid the world of the Burning Legion in order to protect others. I will not fail. Even though those that I protect may never know my name and I will be no more than a ghost. I will fight for them.

Serephim is fairly unique out of my characters. I found her style early on around level 20 and never let go of it once I happened upon it. I loved the use of the blues and greens for such a firey character. The pants stated independence to me. From day 1 this felt like Serephim to me. Something about the praticalness of such an outfit appealed to me.

Serephim is level 80, but many of her pieces are from her early days.

Head: Silk Headband
Shoulders: Mantle of Honor
Back: Dervish Cape of the Wolf
Chest: Conjurer’s Vest of the Eagle
Bracers: Twilight Cuffs of the Owl
Hands: Conjurer’s Gloves of the Eagle
Waist: Aurora Sash
Legs: Night Watch Pantaloons
Feet: Thoughtcast Boots
Weapon: Emberstone Staff

A young mysterious man seems to lead the dark underground of Stormwind from his location in the barracks of Old Town. However, we have been able to dig up some information on him and live to tell the tale. What we have found we have cataloged below. People risked themselves to open up the life of this dark individual that seems to have so much information on Edwin VanCleef.

Mathias Shaw is the current leader of Si:7 in Stormwind. In his early thirties, he is young to be a part of both the intelligence agency and the Stormwind Assassins. Both of which were started by his grandmother Pathonia Shaw. Unknown to anyone, his grandfather is Waltion Freemore, leader of the Four Fingers.

His was mother was a first finger assassin and she died on a job when he was only four years old. But he still had his grandmother, who brought him up to understand death and the family business. His childhood friend was Edwin VanCleef, a familiar name to many of us who have leveled Alliance.

Mathias was a prodigy at the business. He was Fourth Finger by age 10 making him the youngest member, but took his time through the ranks. He knows each level in intricate detail and what is needed for each one. He even trained Edwin VanCleef as a rogue. Little did he know what would happen later. (Check out the Deadmines instance if you haven’t already.)

It was on his 30th birthday that his grandmother decided it was time for him to lead. She wanted to graceful pass over control rather than die and see things fall apart. He even tried to attempt to improve on his grandmother’s leading, but found that her style was flawless. A final interesting note is that his first kill was the target that had killed his mother. Vengeance or a test? You decide.