Meran Backstory - WIP

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Five detoured blood elves flee Silvermoon City in the hopes to escape the foul magic that holds their race. Their hope is to find a cure for their arcane addition with the Light's help, instead of
ripping the raw energy from living creatures. This story is set when Kael'thas is in Outland with Illidan, the Sunwell's power still a held secret among the higher-ups of the blood elf counsel.
When blood elves' allegiances were split between Kael'thas and the Horde. This is a passion project more than anything as I've wanted to write up my personal characters backstory for some time, and
I'm finally doing it! Bare with me, as this may take some time to polish and perfect.

Submitted: November 06, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 06, 2017



A silent wind raced through the tree line, with it brought the ever real feeling of the changing seasons. They were still not used to it, not being warm all the time. In Quel'Thalas, their home, even winter was warm. The land always radiated a heat that soothed and relaxed their people, a warm that reminded them that they were home and that they was safe. The vibrant greens of the grass, the gold  and red leaves on the trees replicating sunlight, the crystal clarity of the rivers that flowed though their land, that shade of blueish purple in the sky that you could only see in the Eversong Woods. There's always a golden aura around Eversong Woods and Quel'Thalas. The nature of... everything in her home felt warm. Now that warmness is gone. In this place, this dark, dank place, the greens are dulled by shadow, you can barely see the sky through the tree's canopy, the night elf structures and statues feel unwelcoming to the blood elves, a feeling of time's past. The feeling of being watched was ever present, whether it were creatures of the woods, or the curious and skeptical night elves. This forest was under their watch, after all. Even though the threat of attack is all too common, this still feels the safest place for them.


Throughout their endeavor for a new home, weather and night elves haven't always been their issue. The sands of Durotar were too hot, the desert landscape was alien and uncomfortable to the blood elves - who loved their pristine, clean and well maintained buildings. Orcs can't build a well built home if their lives depended on it. The orcs of Orgrimmar and the surrounding settlements never trust elves, they've been fighting the night elves for years and they see us as the same. All elves are the same. Tirisfal Glades and the Silverpine forests smelt like death. The Forsaken, the undead monsters, that live there are to never be trusted, under any circumstance. They are an abomination and a reason why they are Sin'dorei, children of Blood. Mulgure would have been tolerable, if it weren't for the tauren and their barbaric, shamanists cultures that "forbid them" to help them, the tauren always stated how "the stench of corruption lingers" around them. The ogres of Faralas weren't too welcoming. That was fine though, they were ogres. Stranglethorn Vale was too humid and the goblins were always too pushy with their coin, they knew they were desperate and without wealth, yet the goblins had no moral compass and treated them like they were made of money. Not to mention the pirate problem they have. And then there's Elwynn Forrest, where the human capital of Stormwind stands. No, no place where humans reside can be trusted, they see all blood elves as traitors and will kill them on sight. No matter where they went, it wasn't right. They've been traveling for almost five months and where ever they go, they're driven out for the fault of their kin. For the fault of Kael'Thas, for the fault of their arcane addiction, for the fault of their newly acquired allies in the Horde or their past allegiances with the Alliance. Their kind will always be hated, it seems.


They fled Quel'Thalas. The hospitality of their own kind felt alien, their people were changing. The solution to their addiction was not welcomed by everyone. It felt dark and twisted. It was evil and corrupt. But anything to sate their arcane hunger, they were told. The ensure the survival of our people, the magisters used to bark. Those few still loyal to the Light, who would not easily falter to the fel magic, left without looking back: a group of five Paladins and Priests.


Airies Sunwatcher, a Paladin who's service was earned through trial and loss. Ala'thalas and Liana Coldstalker. Ala'thalas was a paladin who swore the sacred vows in the hopes he will protect his kind, and above all else his sister, until the end of his life. Liana was a novice priest who has yet to show her true self to anyone but Ala'thalas. Ithris Sunbinder, a paladin who's faith can never be taken from him, who's faith was so strong, he often clashed with the others. And finally Meran, her family name lost. A priest who always hoped to find a new family in the Light. Each one of the Light's servants have their own reason why they left Quel'Thalas, though no one would ask why the other left. It was a mutual understanding between them that needed no words.



What little sky they could see through the dense canopy, they could tell it was getting dark and that they will need to set up a campsite for the night. The woods are abundant with the means of survival, and easily found a clearing to set up for the night. An ideal spot, next to a river they can fish in one side and flanked with berry bushes the other side.

"Perhaps we should make this our permanent place of residency." Liana proposed to the group, "We've been wondering for what feels like a life time. We need to settle down." She finishes with an audible sign, a clear sign of frustration and fatigue.

"A great idea," Ala'thalas starts, "were we not surrounded by our elder kin. We aren't safe when the night elves can track our every movement." Ala'thalas crashes down onto rock and starts unpacking his supplies, "They tolerate us for now, but what if we settle? What if they see that as a Horde settlement and attack? It's too risky, I'm sorry" He gives a solace look towards Liana.

"Let them come!" Ithris' voice explodes from the tree line, overlooking the river, "We will teach them the Light will not tolerate those who oppose. If they will come, let them come, the Light is with me, and will protect us." Ithris starts to get noticeably agitated, as he fondles the pommel of his great sword. Ala'thalas' face creases,

"I know we are tired, trust me. I run around in full plate armor. We need to find a home for ourselves. One that's not littered with any other intelligent race. Ashenvale holds mostly night elves and a handful of orcs, and holds route to the night elf capital. Settling anywhere near here would prove too dangerous. A few more days, maybe a week or two and we will be in Winterspring."The name Winterspring sends a chill up everyone's spine. They're used to a summer's heat year long, and now they are expected to settle in a place named Wintersping. "Although cold and in a constant state of winter, the only stronghold we know of is a small goblin town. It's there we must travel." Ala'thalas leans back to watch the clouds roll across the dusk sky. They know it'll be the safest place for them, they will endure the cold for their freedom.

"Damn it brother, you always speak with such sense. Where would we be without your wisdom?"

"Don't worsen his ego, Liana." Meran chuckles, "It's not that wise to suggest we must move to one of the most remote areas of Azeroth to be free from intelligent life. Any fool could conjure that idea." Meran retorts in a serious, yet playful manor. "Let's just set up this camp like we have hundreds of times."


An hour passes, but the time crawls by slowly. At first it was so exciting to set up a camp and live off the land, like they used to when they were children. Now it brings a sense of foreboding and vulnerability. All of their items and worth were spread out, ripe for the taking. It was a matter of life and death at this point, and all knew this. Four tents are set up, one for each member with the exception of Ala'thalas and Liana - who shared their tent. Firewood is collected and placed in the centre. Normally, when blood elves create camps or settlements, there's a regimented theme upheld. Crimson red fabrics, trimmed with a gold so bright it challenges the sun's might. Supporting either side of the entrance of a tent stands two flags with the Sunreaver crest, the crest of the blood elves. Inside a tent, a blanket with pillows against the tent's fabric and the cold floor and a small bedroll filled with Hawkstrider feathers. This was not a normal campsite, by blood elf standards. They had to abandon those ideals as it was easily noticeable by people who would do harm to them. They had to abandon those ideals for a more human approach, as tragic as that is. But, it means they would live longer so they couldn't complain.


Whenever there's water nearby their campsite, Airies makes her makeshift home nearest to it. The sound of flowing water helped her sleep. It distracts her from the gnawing addiction to the arcane her people suffer from. It distracts her of her people’s mistakes. It distracts her from her own mistakes. The Light has been kind to her, for that she is grateful. The Light has guided her towards her righteous path, the Light has been there where there were none to help. It’s steered her towards a better self. Like the Light, the flowing water sends her mind home; when she used to camp with her father. Her father always told her “Always make a camp by water. Water is the ultimate source of life, to sustain you in the wilderness.” Memories dance through her mind like a bird through sky when she listens to the flow of water. Water heals, water sustains, water cleanses. Airies falls asleep that night, crying to the sound of the river's water.


Meran detests the sound of water. The constant splash sends her addiction wild. The running water, like the arcane running through her body. She feels her energy flow with the water. It’s discomforting, maddening. She craves magic, she needs it, the water's song reminds her of this painful fact. She hasn’t fed in so long. She has to cover her pointed ears with whatever cloth and stuffing she can find so she doesn’t go crazy. The Light has guided her life, it seems. But right now, in this moment, she feels the most distant from the warm glow of the Light than ever before. Is she being tested? It feels like she’s failing. In an act of desperation, she uses she the magic taught to her by the magisters: to extract raw arcane magic from the nature that’s caged in her tent. As she finishes the incantation, a glow that rivals the moon’s on a full night radiates from her hands and to the grass around her. Like pulling a weed from a garden bed, she yanks the arcane from the ground. A river stream of arcane energy courses from the earth, into the palm of her hand. When the ground around her is brown with death, she stops pulling. A sigh escapes her lungs, a mere appetizer to what she needs, but it’s enough to let her sleep. As the water runs across the river’s edge, she drifts to sleep a little fuller.


Meran awakes, but not in her tent by the hellish river. Instead she awakens on a broken world, rippling with fel magic. The ground is burned black, cracks of green energy shine through the dead earth. Where am I she whispers to herself, her whisper echo slightly. The sky is not the blue she saw while traveling. It’s not the blueish purple of home. It was green. A deep, dark green. The further she looks, the blacker the sky gets. She saw no sun, no moon, no stars in the sky - no matter how hard she looks. There are mountains and volcanoes of darkness, but these volcanoes glow with a green molten rock, not red. Stranger still, there were no living creatures. Not a single bug in the air or bird in the sky. She concentrates harder, the clouds in the sky do not move. The air is still. Huge rocks float atop the volcanoes, unmoving. And it was silent. Not a hum, not a buzz, not a crash, not a splash. It was so quiet. She does not like this place.

“Hello?” She yells into the silence. She scares herself with how loud she is. “Is someone here?”


Moments pass as her voice echoes across this broken world. Meran tried to move from her place but, she’s trapped. An invisible shield blocks her from exploring more of this world. At last, she hears an unfamiliar voice.

“So you have come. I’ve been waiting to see your face” a voice hums, “you must be so confused. All answers will be revealed soon enough. Your future awaits.” A slight chuckle rumbles, the ground shakes like an earthquake. Meran is at a loss of words, before she can muster a retort the voice continues, “You will meet someone soon, he will offer you a solution to the hunger. I implore you take what he offers.”

“I don’t understand! What do you know of my future!” Meran belts out, looking around for the source of this voice, “What is this place, who are you!” Her voice deafens herself. She’s so loud it hurt. Her own voice echoes in her brain. “I don’t... understand… understand… understand…  hello…what is… here… here…” the echoes grown louder and louder. Her ears feel as though they’re bleeding from the pressure her voice is creating. “I… understand…understand… understand… my future… future… future…here… this place… place… THIS PLACE” she lets out a scream of pure anguish. She screams and screams and screams and screams and screams. Her voice empowered by the pain created by these echoes, these damn echoes! "Someone please make it stop! It hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts!"She lets out the last of the air in her lungs with a final scream. Her head grows feint as she falls unconscious. Feint echoes of her words linger, "future, here, understand, here." A coy laugh silences the voices.


Meran wakes in a cold sweat, gasping for air as if she's just surfaced from water. She unwraps herself from her bedroll and steps outside into the Autumn breeze that the Ashenvale forest has succumb to.

"I'll never get used to this cold."

© Copyright 2019 Sam Osborne. All rights reserved.

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