Gifted with the ebon hair, fair skin and appeal the impeccable pedigree of Netherstar blood demands, Quelyris embodies timeless beauty and elven cunning in form, function and flair. The structure of her countenance plays upon perfect and cruel: high, sharp cheekbones tapering to a pointed chin and a straight nose lends no softness to the predatory look gleaming in her hooded green eyes. Her lips, affixed with a clever smile that seems loathe to leave their gentle curves in exchange for pragmatism, are painted a lush shade of deep mauve.
Her mien is a descant of the peerless elegance of a highborn lady and the provocation martial mastery warrants in feline grace and ability, substituting the delicacy of the faint of heart with confidence that reflects well in her stride and gestures. Opulent garments of indigo and grey dignify the shapeliness of her figure, but more arresting than her feminine allure and is the efficacy of her enduring presence. Whether playing at a lady's subtlety, commanding the respect of her lessers or indulging in the regard of her peers, she distinguishes herself with lasting effect and little effort.
Early Life Edit
Born the daughter of Elandar, a proud spellbreaker of Netherstar heritage wed to the dusk priestess and prophet Alystra, Quelyris was raised upon the assumption that she was meant for far more than fate's first capricious suppositions promised. The Nethervale, a vast but secluded swathe of dark woodland that had provided sanctuary and remained one of the foremost holdings of those of her bloodline, became the home that she knew intimately as a prison that she had been sequestered within but the right that she could not deny with ambivalence or indolence. Even as a child, she lived within a world of ironclad protocol and expectation that became both the stage where the finest example was set for her and the consequence for failure proved dire.
A woman of mysterious capability as she was of great beauty, Alystra instilled in Quelyris the importance of manipulation of a talent for the arcane she developed as a child. Dedicated to the blackness of night as she was to the inherent power burning within each point of light that broke it, her creed proved one of great discipline and warranted absolute dedication, and like many of those born of the dusk, she expected nothing but perfection from her first and only child. Youth had initially promised Quelyris the luxury of leisure, but it vanished when an avid, obsessive fixation on mastering the magical arts followed a manifestation of power in which she split the sky above with an ephemeral comet while in a rage. Both excited and frightened by what the future held for her fledgling ability, she spent much of her time with little comfort in solitude.
Intrigued by the grace with which his daughter excelled but concerned by the fount of arrogance that accompanied it, Elandar slyly offered her a secondary path that he hoped would quell that bold spirit within her: lauded as a duelist of great repute in his youth, he presented her with the antique sabre which which he had won his laurels and commanded her to fight. Though initially quite clumsy and uncertain of her own aptitude, perseverance saw her gifted in a manner not only magical but martial as she grew from child into the lady she was meant to become. A hot temper and impatience were quelled with an intense regimen that was equally if not differently demanding than the sacrifice that her mother had expected of her, and by the time she had mastered her father she reflected the positive efforts of her progenitors with skill and tact.
Though she soon proved a creature of compelling beauty and charisma as she came of age, Quelyris provided in equal measure a confusing amalgamation of traits contrived of a life's worth of the presumption of greatness and the egregious weight of shame, should she not rise to the glory she has all but assured herself of achieving. The mastery of spell and blade tied to a penchant for perfection left her bereft doubt of her capabilities or prowess, but her own self-deprecating concerns for her worthiness and the crippling uncertainty that accompanied even the most cursory of failures left her desirable but untouchable. Betrothal seemed unfeasible; intimacy, impossible. Overwhelmed by her dwindling number of suitors and the crushing burden of disappointment, Quelyris watched the path ahead of her crumbling and despaired.
When war came, Quelyris saw the opportunity to utilize the skill she had carefully cultivated. She broke from the prison her home had become and was among the many magus that came to the defense of Quel'thalas when the Scourge consumed it, though the crushing blow Arthas Menethil dealt the nation left her reeling and ashamed of herself, even if defeat had seemed inevitable. She cloistered herself within the remains of the city for years, unable to return to a home that had then begun to fight against the usurping hand of Elistan Firesong, but despite the crushing loss found a seed of determination growing within her breast: though she could do nothing to prevent the death toll from climbing ever higher, she rid herself of a noblewoman's conceit and fought ferociously to bring the Scourge menace to an end in as punishing a way as possible.
Izulde Netherstar's campaign to retake the Emberlight from Firesong and his coterie came to her ears with the news of the demise of her father and mother, whose deaths had been uncertain in method but most certainly murder. Though she had never met her cousin officially, she was pleasantly surprised by the proclamations of grace that he commanded with and the unflinching manner in which he sought to overcome his enemy that came of every man who had served him, and was the first of her line to invite a Netherstar born of the line of Nathar into the Nethervale. Bad blood that had once existed between her father and his vanished in an evening: she spent time advising the approach he would take in seizing back the Emberlight from those who had taken it from him by word and letter, and turned towards admiration and respect, Quelyris swore what remained of her shattered household to any endeavor the new Lord-Paramount would make on the behalf of the Netherstar.
Quelyris resides within the Nethervale proper and serves Izulde - and by extension the Sunguard - as an advisor in times of turmoil, but has recently begun to immerse herself within society once more in order to propogate a more lasting allegience. A vast number of spellblades, a unique breed of lightly armored and fast sorcerers utilizing ancient elven bladeplay and arcane arts to destroy, serve her implicitly in matters martial.