Player: Spiky
Character Full Name: Naz’Atez
Character In-Game Name: N/A
Nickname(s): N/A
Association(s): Night Elf society (Loosely), Naga Organizations (Loosely), Himself.
Race: Naga
Class: Warrior

Skills and Abilities:
Spine Throw: Naz’Atez throws a spine from his ‘conch’ hand, functioning pretty much like a javelin that can impale the target if successful.
Paralysis Toxin: Naz'Atez' bite and bodily spines (Not the ones he can 'eject' from his monstrous hand) secrete a numbing toxin meant as a defensive mechanism caused by his natural, arcane mutations. The effects of this poison varies depending on the size and immune system of the victim. It can paralyze a grown human for up to an hour if he is allowed lengthy (5 second contact) with the spines or teeth of Naz'Atez. Like the venom of many sea creatures and even snakes.
Blind-Sight: As a Naga Abomination / Anomaly, Naz'Atez natural head is covered in a hard, featureless shell. As such he has no visible eyes, though he has regular vision, his skin has developped hyper-sensitive pores that detect small electrical charges and changes in heat that most lifeforms naturally create, and as such can vaguely pinpoint movement around him in a 360 degree angle.
Natural Resilience: Due to the bony additions to his already monstrous appearance, as well as his thick, reinforced hide, Naz'Atez is more naturally resilient and can shrug off most small blades and arrows that glance off of his hide. As a result of the further mutations caused by the twisting arcane energies that made him into what he is, he is less affected by magic, beneficial or harmful, his skin having a light purple tint to it as a result.
Age: 10,087
Sex: Male
Hair: N/A
Eyes: N/A
Scale/Height: (0.55) Naz’Atez stands around 10´8 ft. tall when ‘walking’ or ‘standing’
Weight: 1085 lbs.
Usual Garments/Armor: A simple sash and a golden waistband to keep the sash in place.
Other: N/A
Alignment: N/A

Personality:
Naz’Atez is a devious, old Naga with a bad temper to boot. Having spent a great deal of his life asleep, until awoken some years ago. His anger and short temper comes from the fact that he barely remembers anything beyond the sinking chaos of the glorious city he was in before it sunk. He’s short-sentenced and direct in his conversations.

Just as he’s not trusted by others, he doesn’t trust them in return, and will always doubt people at first before he will consider someone a friend. He is more open towards his own species (Naga) and what he once was (Night Elf) than the other races of Azeroth.

History:
Naz’Atez no longer remembers his old name. What he does remember, is the years he spent serving the Queen in her glorious and shining city at the heart of the elven empire. He remembers the status of High Guard, protecting other Highborne from the other, lower elves living in their society. He fully supported queen Azshara’s decisions made to preserve and empower their already glorious nation.

He remembers fighting against his own kin as they revolted against the forces of Highborne and unnatural creatures brought forth from Azshara’s deal with the one she called “Lord” and “Master”. They were demons, he knew that now, but they fought on his side back then, and all he cared for was to protect the life of the Highborne and his queen.

His loyalty would ultimately cost him his identity and life. Or so he thought, as he awoke miles beneath the surface of the ocean, somehow unaffected by the crushing weight of the depths. He breached the surface of the ocean a few hundred feet from the beaches of Darkshore, slithering into the sand with numerous others, all sharing his visage, more or less. The women, multiple arms spawned from their ribcages, the men, monstrous snakes, and some, like him, further mutated with conches and crab like shells.

His reflection showed no eyes, yet he could see this. Some, who took these changes lighter than most, went inland, vanishing into unfamiliar lands, others, like Naz’Atez, stayed behind, taking years to stray from their own home, freshly made upon this secluded shore of Darkshore.

It took Naz’Atez two years to come to terms with his new change, no longer a creature of perfection. He’d met others like him, Naga. Telling him that their queen shared their new appearance, this reassured him that he was still as he was meant to be, in the image that his queen would want of her people. With this knowledge, Naz’Atez decided to break his own self-imposed solitude to discover the world anew.

Slithering through ruins and old, abandoned settlements told him their once glorious empire had crumbled, their once magnificent race reduced to living in a hollow tree, hiding in the shade of the trees. Advice from his kinsmen helped him avoid contact with the more radical and angry Night Elves, instead seeking out ones that would not kill him on sight. He kept his own allegiance secret, nobody needed to know he still considered himself loyal to his queen. After all, she was barely a presence on the surface world.

He now wanders the world, gathering information as much for himself as for when the time comes and he may share it with others of his kind, perhaps even his queen. Or perhaps.. Not. His resolve has been wavering as he ventures further and further in, learning about his own people, or rather, his old kinsmen; the elves.

Player: Maulbane

Character Full Name: (The sound of water dripping rapidly from a stalactite, followed by that of a wave breaking in two as it hits a cliff)

Character In-Game Name: Delugus

Nickname(s): Delugus, "Splashy"

Association(s): The Twilight Hammer, Abyssal Council (servant), Abyssal Maw (home)

Race: Water Elemental.

Class: Shaman.

Skills and Abilities: Water Manipulation: Delugus is proficient in his own element, and may move water however he may wish - the more water, the more comfortable he is shaping it. However, he has difficulty working with some conglomerate elements - ice and mud, particularly. These difficulties do not outright stop him from manipulating them, though. This manipulation gives him the ability to form vortexes of water to root enemies in place, as well as give himself the ability to compact the water in his arms - giving him natural hammers.

Soothing Waters: Delugus has the ability to heal the wounds of mortals, provided they're not life-threatening. His healing waters must come from within himself, which can deplete his energies significantly and cause him to need to re-hydrate - so to speak.

Elemental Immunities: He is immune in every possible way to water and steam based attacks. Fire will evaporate off him, causing him distress and rapidly depleting his 'body' mass should he not be in water - but he is used to large amounts of fire, rather than small arcane-based attacks such as fireballs. He can be displaced by earth and air, and these elements combined with heat (lava, for example) will seriously scare him (if not outright spell his demise). Ice will slow him and eventually root him in place, but only in large concentrations.

Physical Resistance: As a being of water - a compromising element, to say the least - no conventional weapon will hurt him, instead displacing his mass - at most, causing him to need to pick it back up. Hitting him with heavy weapons - mauls, hammers, poleaxes and the like - may have enough area and force to make him lose enough mass to truly be 'hurt'. Heated weapons will turn anything hit to steam, effectively depleting him, and anything enchanted with cold - especially projectiles - will weaken him, depending on just how cold it is.

Elemental Language: Delugus is a slow learner, and knows very little Common or Orcish. He fluently speaks Kalimag, however, and knows the Aquan, Ignan and Terran dialects due to fighting alongside Elementals of all kinds during the Ordering of Azeroth. He failed to pick up Auran, due to the aloofness of the Air Elementals. Conversing with him will be difficult for an individual with a low threshold for patience.

Age: Roughly 90,000 years old.

Sex: Not applicable.

Hair: Not applicable.

Eyes: In a humanoid shape, he simply has a single, hollowed out sphere in the front of his 'head'. Feasibly able to see from anywhere, the eye-pit would still be the calmest flowing areas of his form, the water within in murky and impossible to read any kind of emotion from.

Weight: Roughly 300 kilograms when at full size.

Height: Ebbs and flows - roughly two meters at a healthy size.

Usual Garments/Armor: He's naked. Importantly, no bindings or bracers of control on him - he's a voluntary agent.

Other: His entire form is constantly flowing - water you see flowing on one side will soon form part of his face, and it all moves at different rates. Large amounts of liquid seem to compress into each-other to form the solid-looking parts of his 'body' - actually just extremely dense water rather than any kind of structure. His form is for the benefit of those around him, with primitive arms and head built using this method. He lacks a lower body, a thoroughly useless thing when you can flow wherever you wish.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

Personality: Delugus is a keeper of secrets, as many of his kind are. His life has spanned longer than even the most desperate Elves and he has pondered little on this, flowing from one assignment to the other with little complaint or question. Despite his tumultuous form - more enigmatic than an earth or fire elemental - he is a very stalwart being. He's lived by a certain code for longer than all the races of Azeroth combined, and he's not compromising - especially not for a mortal.

His beliefs, or what little beliefs he contains, would focus around his own people. He has spent his entire existence defending the Old Gods (and the Water Elementals by proxy), and more recently (but still tens of thousands of years in the past) the Abyssal Maw from the incursions by Ragnaros and Al'akir. He has recently sided against Neptulon, but with his people in mind - working under the Water Barons of the Abyssal Council to increase their chances of survival.

Delugus is not a great warrior when it comes to fighting the more solid denizens of Azeroth, but his form leaves him incredibly difficult to damage (to the point of impossibility) physically. His countless (at least on the fingers of a Human or Orc) victories against fire Elementals have given him a confidence in his ability to wage war against any foe, however - after all, he hasn't been purged in these years.

His motives appear as water - to him, they are simple and clear, easily regarded. To others, they are deliberately esoteric - with all the rapidity of a rapid, hard to distinguish. He holds much ancient knowledge of his people, all gained through attrition rather than actively finding them - his kind respect secrets above all else.

He may appear slow to the untrained due to his willingness to 'let things pass', but this is only what they see from the perspective of a young race. He is not cunning, but he is highly knowledgeable and resolute. The events that the races have experienced are merely footnotes for him - all except for the Sundering, which all denizens of the world felt strongly.

His strongest fears are existential - the survival of his people is most often on his mind. But he also fears fire, and barren lands without moisture, as they are the antithesis of his being.

History: Born (or more appropriately formed) during the Ordering of Azeroth, he had roughly a heartbeat to ponder his new life before being thrown into the fray against the Titans, wielded by Neptulon the Tidehunter as an effective tool. However, it wasn't enough - as each lieutenant fell, the hopes of their people would dim, and the possibility of their victory was eliminated altogether with their own Elemental Lord's falling to the celestial invaders. Delugus didn't pry as to how the rest of his kind felt to their imprisonment in the Abyssal Maw, but he was glad they were alive - they would keep their knowledge safe still, preserving it from the stupidity of Therazane, the arrogance of Ragnaros and the irresponsibility of Al'akir.

Tens of thousands of years passed. Aside from the constant warring, which became a default rather than something to be shocked of, Delugus' life was quiet and allowed him to think. He didn't often think, though, preferring to fight against the consistent invasions from The Firelands against them. Delugus didn't quite understand why they were being assaulted so often, but he mused that it must be due to their complacency in being defeated.

Over the course of many more years, counted in thousands rather than units, Delugus' viewpoints began to shift. If they simply kept defending themselves against these other Elementals - in many ways his brothers (discounting how inferior they were in most regards) - they would be easy prey for anyone who wanted to destroy them.

He began to consort with the Old Gods. As an elemental, especially an elemental concerned with the withholding of ancient knowledge, this was trivial for him - he found a group of Dukes and Barons of his kind who had similar sentiments and each disagreed with Neptulon's discontinuation of their alliance with the Old Gods. He would soon be recruited, an action which passed his eyes like a heartbeat, and then positioned for the next strike - he was told it would be very soon.

Thousands more years passed before there was a great calamity - the trembling of the earth itself would resonate through the waves of the Abyssal Maw far greater than any of the other lands of the Elementals, and The Sundering would make itself known to them. Only the smallest few of their kind had reached out of their prison - most of them summoned by the new-found powers of the Elven empire, but that changed as all the races capable of magic - as well as the font of Azeroth's magic - was silenced. Those bound to Elven sorcerers would be returned to their home or find their way back through the oceans, and only then would their people truly know what had happened. It changed things.

Another ten thousand years and a bit passed, and something very large happened. Ragnaros left, without warning whatsoever. Delugus was suspicious and curious - two emotions he rarely thought of, let alone harbor himself. Word would pass swiftly from those few of his kind above The Maelstrom (and from agents of the Abyssal Council) that it had been the work of mortals - Dwarves, he was told. Delugus was not aware of what a Dwarf was, but he assumed it was another agent of the Titans.

The next three hundred years - barely a blink in Delugus' years - would be filled with so much activity he seemed to grow a tolerance for it. He tried his best to simply flow with the incredible things occurring - rapidly-rising empires of all kinds of creatures, the new wealth of information being gathered by the Old Gods' agents, countless tremors caused by battles and wars above them. Of course, even with Ragnaros being been spirited away, the Elementals of the Firelands had been unceasing in their attempts to attack - there was rarely a handful of years in which Delugus could simply relax for a month or two.

Eventually, though, Delugus' time came - and it coincided with Deathwing plunging out of Deepholm, sending yet another tremor through the Abyssal Maw. He was getting tired of all these tremors. He was informed that he'd be brought out of the Elemental Plane entirely to serve the Twilight Hammer. He did not know what a Twilight Hammer was, but apparently it was a group of Orcs. He also did not know what Orcs were. Luckily for him, he was informed upon arrival - apparently they were no longer Orcs, they were commanded by an Ogre now. He had no interest in Cho'gall, though the feeling was reciprocated, and he was rapidly put to use as an agent of the Twilight Hammer - using his ability to move through the oceans to extreme effect to collect information. Despite his affiliation with the clan, he has been sparing with what he finds, intending to use it to benefit his own people more than the Old Gods. He wouldn't tell that to his superiors, though.

Now, Delugus finds himself working across Azeroth, using the coasts and coursing rivers to make his way across the continents and find out all he can. Soon, he feels, there will be an upheaval, and should he position himself in the right way he would reap the rewards - and finally remove the few remnants of the Titans' grip on this world.

Player: FlyingSquirrel.

Full Name: Modan in Common, Mountain in Dwarvish.

Nicknames: Golem.

Association: Boudi.

Race: Golem.

Class: Brawler.

Age: Has been completed, as a statue, for 7 years. Runes are regularly updated/rewritten.

Sex: Non applicable.

Stone Colour: Black.

Eyes: Glow red, along with all the runes on the Golem's body.

Weight: Roughly 15 tons.

Height: 13 feet tall, 9 feet wide at shoulders.

Appearance;
The Golem, compared to the Dwarves it is often around, is a behemoth. Standing about 13 feet tall and made of an indiscriminate black stone, it's not really something one can avoid looking at. It's sculpted to look like a Dwarf, with a stocky figure, wide shoulders and a stone beard that covers most of it's chest. There are fourteen runes on the Golem on any time it's fully working. There are four on it's stone girdle, one every 90 degrees. On each of the Golem's wrists, there are four runes, similarly placed to the girdle. Lastly, there's a rune on the back of either hand, matching with those on Boudi's mitten gauntlets.

History;
Modan was made in secret, carved out of the stone of Boudi's own hall. The Dwarf knew what she was doing, and the Golem turned out fine. After a few months of the Golem standing dormant and unruned, Boudi managed to have a friend teach her how to write the runes on the Golem. Well, most of them. The rune to give Golems sentience was a highly guarded secret of the Dark Irons, and even though Boudi was one, she had not yet learned it. So, she improvised. She bought two mail mittens, put a metal plate on the backhand of either one, and put corresponding runes on the back of the hands of the Golem and her gauntlets. These runes allowed the Dwarf to have the Golem mimic her movements, and over months and years, she taught the Golem how to move, even run, as well as teaching herself how to fight with fists. Only recently has Modan began to see any actual combat, at the behest of Boudi and the Regiment. And as long as he keeps his runes clear, he'll be ready for it.

Player: Geoni

Character Full Name: Moirzil

Character In-Game Name: Moirzil

Association(s): The Burning Legion

Race: Nathrezim

Class: Researcher (OOC: Warlock)

Age: 40,000~

Sex: Male

Hair: None

Eyes: Fel Green

Weight: 525 lbs.

Height: 8'6"

Usual Garments/Armor: Moirzil wears a set of plated armor that is green and gold in color, along with a matching loincloth.

Personality:

Moirzil, as a demon, is driven by aesthetic rather than emotion or will. While he is passionately driven by his goal to create chaos, the way in which he causes it is what he takes joy in. One would think that chaos, the very opposite of order, has no need for aesthetic. However, Moirzil believes that just as creation comes from nothingness, order creates nothingness, and so just as style is necessary for creation, it is just as necessary for undoing.

The above philosophy is the groundwork for the demon that Moirzil has become. As a researcher, he carries out experiments. Experimentation, in order to be successful, requires control. In order set them up, Moirzil makes sure to trap his subjects and keep them from escaping by recruiting the help of other demons, cultists, and the constructs that he has learned to create. It is not his life being in danger that Moirzil worries about, but rather, the notion of nothing being gained from his experimentation. Due to these concerns, he becomes quite the control freak when carrying them out; everything has to be restrained and controlled so that the variables can be given freedom.

Because he has become so flexible in what he's willing to research, his psychology reflects this. Though he is a demon, he can be quite considerate, polite, and well-spoken, especially when he's not carrying out an experiment. When he is done with his test subjects, he shows them mercy by not having them killed and letting them go on about their lives; killing and fighting isn't his purpose in the Legion. When he is leading his experiments, however, he can be as tyrannical, sadistic, and neurotic as a child with no morality.

History:

Long ago, somewhere within the Twisting Nether, Moirzil came into existence. Just as the other demons that came from the nether, his purpose was to undo the workings of the titans and all that they had worked to create. His career as a researcher began early in his life. His service to his fellow demons was to find new worlds and study them in order to collect information that might assist the other nathrezim who would eventually take them over. During these long years of searching, finding, and destroying, Moirzil would learn how to balance desire and cunning, using the thousands of years of his early life to master the art of disguising one's self. In being able to hide his true form, he was able to communicate and closely observe the people that the demons would eventually eradicate. However, after carrying out his wicked deeds and revealing himself one too many times, one of the titans would imprison him within the Twisting Nether.

After a long time of carrying his job out, a titan who the demons once considered their enemy and antithesis, the very titan who was responsible for imprisoning Moirzil, would soon join into the cause of undoing order and creating chaos in the universe. Sargeras, having abandoned his old duties as a titan, now sought an army to carry out his ambitions of undoing all that he and his brothers had done. Even though he was freed by the one who had restrained him, Moirzil was skeptical of the titan's ambitions and wasn't ready to join his army just yet. For a while, he waited and watched to see if Sargeras true to his words. Eventually, he would join the army after witnessing planet after planet being destroyed at a faster rate thanks to the new army.

Moirzil joined the Burning Legion just as Argus had been found and targeted. The eredar of Argus, practitioners and masters of magic in all of its forms, seemed to be the perfect targets for corruption. Moirzil didn't think so at first, but after a time of watching them go on about their lives in such a utopian world, even he was convinced. However, these people were especially intelligent, and might prove difficult to manipulate. Sargeras, as it turned out, already had this covered by making an offering to their leaders. Two out of three of the leaders were convinced, but the other, as it turns out, was skeptical. Taking the ata'mall crystal for himself, and gathering his followers on top of a mountain, a few of the eredar were able to avoid becoming the twisted and mutated man'ari. Moirzil watched as the newly turned monstrosities scrambled against an impenetrable wall of magic, unable to chase after the eredar that escaped into the skyward vessel.

Little did Moirzil know that the mistake of letting those few eredar escape would determine the next 25,000 years of his life. The Draenei, the exiled ones, journeyed through the universe on their Oshu'gun and hopped one planet after another. The demons, familiar with finding and destroying worlds, didn't find it difficult to give chase to the Draenei and their interplanetary journey. However, their cunning and quickness rivaled that of the demons', and for thousands of years Moirzil would spend his time researching the actions of the Draenei when they were found, even if the time he had available to research them was brief. It wasn't until they reached Draenor when Moirzil, along with a few other demons, realized that it would be easier if they tried to corrupt the short-lived Orcs and turn them against the people they would share the planet with. This, as it turns out, was a successful move. Most of the Draenei's population was wiped out.

Yet, the Draenei, to the frustration of Moirzil and others, were able to survive this predicament and escape to Azeroth. The next four or so years would prove to be exciting for Moirzil, at the least. Azeroth was a diverse planet full of races that the demons could turn against each other. Not only that, many of them were steadily at war with each other. At the same time, Moirzil came to worry, is that the Draenei's Army of Light could very well come into realization with the aid of the many races of Azeroth. Now, as a researcher, Moirzil has made it his goal to understand all of these races in order to figure out how the Burning Legion can combat them.