Raised in a land outside of Suramar, Thireu is different than her fellow nightborne kin. She has an optimistic view of the world around her, thirst for knowledge, and belief that faction lines are not as unbreakable as they seem.
Eager to experienc...
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The nearby gurgling of the waters of the Elrendar River rushing over the rocky falls was a reassuring pulse of life for Thireu as she swung her mining pick into the copper outcropping among the large boulders. To the north, and across the river from where the nightborne woman worked to free the ore from the rock, stood the Scorched Grove of Eversong Woods. Behind her to the south stretched the shadowed expanse of the Ghostlands filled with creatures in various states of living and undeath. Surrounded by so much struggling life, Thireu was relieved that the Elrendar River still flowed strong and clean in this area.
As a monk, Thireu felt a keen connection with the living energies of the world and she tapped into it for her magical abilities. Once able to leave her previous home, and with the nightborne allied with the Horde, Thireu had chosen to journey to Eversong Woods. Her distant kin, the blood elves, or Sin'dorei, had chosen to establish their capital of Silvermoon City and she'd wanted to see it for herself. She had heard stories about Arthas Menethil and the destruction and death he and his Scourge army had wrought upon the blood elf lands. Seeing the Dead Scar with her own eyes made the stories much more real. The realization that the scar would never fully heal, and that the Ghostlands were still tainted by the deathly magic Arthas had wielded as the Lich King, filled Thireu with heartache and sadness.
To alleviate that inner pain, Thireu was determined to help the Sin'dorei and their allies as they continued to fight the evil undead plaguing their lands. Thireu sometimes found it difficult to reconcile the fact that some of the undead were actually allies of the blood elves now, but after receiving the aid of the Forsaken undead, she trusted them to a certain extent.
Although the battle against the dark undead forces felt never-ending and futile sometimes, she'd experienced fulfilling victories that gave her hope and renewed her spirit. Hope was no easy thing after the years her people endured within the magical shield of Suramar with streets patrolled by demons and their loyal nightborne allies. But that had finally come to an end when Horde and Alliance worked together to free the city. Surely, the blood elves could experience such a monumental transformation to their lands someday.
Hearing the crumble of shattered rock, Thireu refocused on her task and finished freeing the ore from the boulder it had been protruding from. Satisfied with the decent size chunk of copper she held in her light blue-skinned hands, the nightborne tucked the ore into her backpack on the ground at her feet. Fetching a cloth from her bag, she wiped the rock dust from her hands as best she could. She then used her fingers to try to smooth back into place the stray long white hairs that had escaped the braided bun at the top of her head. It was a futile gesture because her smooth white hair seemed opposed to being put up in any fashion, but she was stubborn enough to keep trying.
The feather-accented leather headband she wore kept the sweat of her exertions from dripping into her eyes, even if it was a bit too decorative for such a mundane task. The headdress had been a gift from one of her monk masters when she'd perfected a particularly difficult move and she always wore it with pride and honor.
