Talvi'myr

Description
"To feel is to think, and act. To do this unfettered is, to me, freedom."

Talvi'myr of the Howling Fjords is a Worgen Death Knight who has given her allegiance to the Blades of Greymane. A veteran and survivor of the War of the North and the horrors of the Age of Mortals, she prefers to mask much of her past in ambiguity. This, and a rather distant pattern of behaviour, has made it difficult for others to understand her.

History
Talvi’myr began her journey as Tess of the Hietela family, resident to the comely barrows of the Howling Fjords; surrounded by unimaginable beauty, yet veiled in harshly-toned discord. The years of her youth were modest, molded by the teachings of a mother stricken by nature and the very lessons the land and it’s many wonders had to offer – compounded by the departure of her brother, whom left early in the onset of her childhood years. By the time of her tenth birthday, she had already learned to fend for herself, and how to tend the sickly remnants of her family.

To cope, she became isolated; rarely sociable on the best of days, where oft she would take to the wilds or places unknown to her fellows. A connection with nature became intrinsic in her outlook on the world, and in her own sense of individuality. Tess took a particular liking to hunting, which she interpreted as the purest manifestation of glory itself; the brush of the feathered arrow, and the twanging note of a shot ringing true – and if the gods were willing, food. This, among other things, brought about a culmination of her maturity, and a sense of contentment in what she perceived as her true lot in life – if only partially; while strong in her roots, there always lingered elements of doubt and uncertainty of as to what lay within the ever-changing future. And indeed, fate had not yet abandoned her path; upon her coming of age, the ailment plaguing her mother began to recede, bouncing her back to vitality with alarming speed. The happenstance was palpably freeing, but it would not last; fearful, Tess decided to move on and away.

For a time, she bided her efforts in making various arrangements to leave. To do this, she began selling meat and other various herbs gathered from the woodlands beyond her home with fickle results. Her plight, however, had not gone unnoticed – a local carpenter, whom she knew briefly in the days of her childhood, offered charity to repay an old debt. The thought weighed upon her mind, but in the end, she accepted – but the door betwixt their lives was not so easily closed. In time, they became friends… and from their bond bloomed a relationship, decided upon chasing their dreams together. As a pair, they arranged for transit into the Grizzly Hills, where they would make their new lives in the frontier. Once all had been secured, they left – the driver of their caravan, however, was not as he seemed. Soon past the border, he revealed himself to be a member of the newly-hewn wolf-cult, intent on gathering supplicants for a greater purpose. In a matter of moments, a ferocious siege of wolf-men sprang from the brush, ultimately forcing the pair to ignite their reserves of oil. The resulting detonation bought them a reprieve, but not without cost. Her would-be partner in life was mortally wounded by the blast, and he passed in her arms.

The beasts returned, and with no more effort, stole her away. Tess was cursed, and loosed upon the wilds, through which she found her way back to the border of the Howling Fjords. The local Vrykul, whom banded with the Scourge, drew her notice; their supply trains brought with them captured soldiers and residents, destined for sacrifice. She began preying upon them until at last she became a thorn in their side, whereupon a passing Scourgelord set about plucking it. Her encounter was brief, and it brought about the end of her life; only to be risen into undeath, greeted by an otherworldly chill in waking once more. Gone were any semblances of her ferality, leaving her shattered mind to form some small way of comprehending what had transpired. Thus she became Talvi’myr.

As a soldier of the Scourge, she was dispatched to Dragonblight, where she served across numerous fronts and led several victories against both the Alliance and the Horde. As the war continued to advance, she was sent deeper into Northrend, to the Shadow Vaults within the frozen wastes of Icecrown. Lingering only briefly, she resisted the encroaching Ebon Blade, only to flee once they were successfully able to overwhelm the hold. As the Lich King began drawing his forces inwards, she was stationed within the Citadel itself, where her career secured her the elevation of Scourgelord. She took part in repelling the coming siege, but as the champions of the Argent Crusade laid low her liege, she leapt unto the back of her Frostwyrm, and left.

Her withdrawal ended in the wilds of Dragonblight, wherein she entered a period of exile as a matter of penitence for the wrongness of her actions; while the powers of the world turned to their own separate corners of being, she faded. It was not until the middling period of the Cataclysm that she returned. In the Alliance, she found activity as a Mercenary, though she became far more militant upon realizing the true nature of the threat. Her service continued throughout the Alliance campaign through Pandaria, bearing witness to the horrors of Garrosh and his pet legion. Following the Siege of Orgrimmar, however, fate intervened. The events thereafter all but shattered her way in life.

From there, she turned her attention to something that seemed more practical, and to a people with whom she felt some form of an understanding. For a time, Talvi’myr fought for Gilneas, until at last learning of the Blades of Greymane. Shortly after, she enlisted – but over time, became displeased with the leadership of the order's High-Commander and Duke, prompting her to leave shortly thereafter.

Appearance/Personality
Lupine features taper out across fur of a dusky hue, seeded with a tenor of thoughtful equanimity; much of her visage seems cast with an age unsung by her gaze, for there is purpose and vigor in the heart of the Winter Storm. Talvi’myr stands loftily tall, endowed with a heavier build that affords her a more rugged and undeniably capable appearance; shadowed by the inky void that forever holds the very threads of her being. From her head tumbles a cascade of midnight black, jumbled in a mess of tresses that falls just beyond her shoulders.

An exotic lilt intones her every word, unwaveringly calm in face of every moment.

A dense mesh of plate and chain sheathes her form, ornamented with furs and runework of an eldritch make. The metal seems otherworldly, refractive of whatever light it strikes regardless of the source, that nothing muddles the crimson with which it had been dyed. Across her back rests a runeblade of similar make, honed and adorned with all the necessities of a proper Runeblade.

Her demeanor often speaks little of her thoughts or intentions, though whether this is by design or by accident is a mystery. That Talvi’myr is foreign to the Eastern Kingdoms is undeniable; yet her will to learn is evident, as is the nameless purpose that drives her. Her presence is watchful, and frigid; her every step exudes a cold that manifests within her body, often in a mantra of crackles and pops.