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Esriel Nightblossom Edit

Esriel Nightblossom
Esriel
Art by Nnamier

Race

Illidari [ Sin'dorei ]

Age

Unknown

Place of Birth

Tel'dorei Camp

Title(s)

The Dancer

Occupation(s)

Illidari Adept
'Seamstress'
Courtesan
Dancer

Affiliations

Cabal of the Dying Sun

Family

None

Alignment

Chaotic Good

Delicate and dreamy-eyed -- well, she would be, if she had eyes still -- Esriel is a member of the Cabal of the Dying Sun who has served faithfully since her acceptance into the cult, even through the long years of stasis. There is something wistful about the Illidari known fondly as The Dancer. Off the field, there are of a life left over from before the ritual that shattered and slurred her soul with the Matron Mother who stole her long-lost lover from her; on the field, however, she is a far-cry from the motherly presence who hums through the halls of the Doom Glaive.

The duality of Esriel's personality can be, at times, jarring to those outside the Cabal - especially when paired astride the joyful laughter that leaks from her painted lips as her glaive slice a thousand slits through the flesh of her enemies - but there is no doubt that she serves, wholly, loyally, and until her last breath. She is, in all aspects, a follower, not a leader, and is content to follow wherever the Blackheart leads her.

Appearance Edit

While delicate, there is nothing thin or waifish about The Dancer; her dusky skin is wrapped over a well-muscled frame that bears bountiful summits and valleys. She is full-bodied, with warmth and softness to spare, despite the ragged scars that lace her flesh and the fel-infused tattoos that sear across her skin. Snow-white hair swirls around her round face and full lips, cascading around her body in rolling waves that strike the backs of her knees. Her matter of dress is revealing and rag-tag; she wraps herself in the misbegotten refuse of their long-lost kin, and weaves ill-suited fabrics together to make something of an outfit for herself. Nothing she wears is modest, or truly covering, but there is an effort made.

Her horns are large and curling, and perhaps the only part of her that is deemed worthy of finery; she drapes them in golden coins that clink and jangle as she walks - bare foot, always, a call back to her roots as an earth-born daughter of the Tel'dorei - and if the sound being so close to her sensitive ears is cause for concern, she makes no mention, or note of such.

History Edit

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