Name: Muhammadah
Occupation: Paladin
Alignment: Lawful Good
Affiliation: Stormwind
Peace and Blessings be with You!
Your eyes meet Muhammadah’s green, almost luminiscent, eyes guarded by thin eyebrows that are neatly kept in a heart shaped face whose pearlish skin soflty glows like silver, with high cheeks, full lips that are on the precipice of a smile as though she is being spoken to by a lover, one you cannot see or hear, divulging secrets. Behind a tightly packed hood on the border of her face you cannot see her hair nor her ears, yet if you were to look behind you would see locks transmuted into a golden color with slight threads of red interwoven. Ears which are slightly more pointed than most humans sometimes reveal themselves as she turns her head. Although covered in an indiscrimante robe you would easily assume, and be correct, that beneath it is a virgin body both beautiful and strengthened by being fashioned by The Light in ideal form. Few would ever be able to see her shape unless fighting alongside her or a member of what she considers her family.
Muhammadah is neither a prophet nor a prophetess. She is only an orphan raised in the Cathdral of Light. Of unknown birth place or parentage she is considered less than a commoner. She has been illiterate for most of her life due to her circumstances of being an orphan. However you would often find her nowadays with a book that she is carefully studying when not engaged in other matters that seem to distract her from its study. A woman of the lowest class, yet of the highest virtue.
Wandering as a child in Deadwind Pass speaking in a tongue no one knew only saying the word “Muhammadah”, she was found by a band of travellers. Thus she was named Muhammadah. War had ravaged and plagued most of the human population for years. Few were able to meet their own needs, let alone the needs of a child. The travellers decided to take her to the Cathedral of Light and leave her there to allow The Light to sort out her life.
Upon arriving to Stormwind in the morning hours, she was kept hidden in the belongings of the travellers to avoid detection. Stormwind was at its threshold for refugees. When brought to the Cathedral she walked in as if almost certain that this was her destination with only a very sincere and succint attempt to say thank you to the travellers who brought her there. She entered the Cathedral and sat down and began to prostrate herself. She repeated this for hours long beyond the setting of the sun.
A priest of the Cathedral at the time, Abu-Talib, had noticed Muhammadah throughout the entire day. Being most certain that this was no ordinary child left homeless and orphaned by the war, he approached her and extended his hand to her. The young girl, although unable to speak, knew this man would be the one who would help her. Taking the hand of the almost bronze-skinned, coalish-now-greying bearded, holy man she was delivered from starvation, abuse, and potential death on the streets of the now reclaimed Stormwind.
Abu-Talib brought the young Muhammadah to the finest orphanage in Stormwind, just outside the Cathedral. By finest it is meant that the children were able to eat every day, had beds, clothes, disease free, and were given the duties of serving the clergy of the church.
For years Muhammadah would serve Abu-Talib, the priest who officiated the office of the Cathedral, in Stormwind. Often she would be brought to meetings of the clergy where he would walk and proclaim that “Muhammadah is a great soul. She will be a great woman.” and seat her amongst the clergy with him.
When she would not be tending to sweeping the cathedral, attending to the candles, cleaning clerical robes, or preparing food she could never eat for the clergy and nobility, Muhammadah was often found being allowed to leave the city to tend to the flocks of sheep belonging to Abu-Talib. Never was she found idly playing, but always devoted in some task of service.
As she grew, listened, and learned she became a fluent speaker in the common tongue and almost seemingly forgot that strange alien language she had once spoken many years ago. However much she desired to learn to read and write, Abu-Talib’s proposals to the clergy were always rejected on the grounds that “Muhammadah is not of noble stock”.
Many years passed, as did the wars, and while Muhammadah was sweeping in the corner, in the fields with the flocks, or trimming the whicks on the cathedral’s candles she grew seeing paladins of the light train and go to war in the name of The Light to defend the innocent, liberate the oppressed, and save the lives and souls of the citizens of the kingdom of Stormwind and beyond.
So too as did the years passed, Abu-Talib, would pass away as well on the eve of Muhammadah’s 19th birthday. Given that she was his servant all of her life, it was her task to clean and sort through his belongings so that the church would distribute them according to their will.
As she entered his room and quarters she witnessed a miracle. She saw out of season fruit appear atop a closed book that lay in the middle of the desk. Aware that miraculously apearing fruit could not be accounted for in the will, Muhammadah sat down and took a bite of the pure fruit. She gazed at the book, aware the she was unable to read, and decided to open it hoping perhaps she would gain some piece of knowledge.
When she opened the book written on its pages were a strange alien language, almost elvish, that she instantly was able to read and comprehend. That night she read the entire book and found that she had discovered a book detailing direct revelation and words from The Light itself. As her eyes adjusted to reading for what felt like the first time in many years, if ever, she now focused her sights on the piece of paper that was foreignly attached to the inside of the book. Her eyes were now able to read the common tongue as well! It read: “Scheduled to Burn Immediately.”
Shocked, Muhammadah had to do all that she could contain herself to not scream. She put her head on the desk and cried. Not only was such a scripture of importance about to be lost, but she was aware that now an orphan girl at the age of 18, and 19 tomorrow, her only options were to sell heself as a prostitute, become a concubine to the clergy, or marry herself to a man as his property. She had seen so many other older orphan girls follow the same fate, and now without Abu-Talib’s protection she feared that she herself would share the same fate.
A virgin, devout in faith, and now with direct knowledge of revelation that even the clergy wanted removed from existence she avowed that she would not be reduced to such a fate. She stood packed her bag with the fruit, the book, and took Abu-Talib’s sword and armor that he kept from his youth. While looking through the room once more before leaving, Muhammadah found her name written on an envelope pinned to the door, almost as if it was left there for her as she left the room.
She opened the envelope and inside of it was a golden ring and a short letter detailing to whoever would read it to her the circumstances of her illiteracy and stating, “This is rightfully Muhammadah’s”. So she pocketed the mysterious ring.
Muhammadah, as a child of the road, in the earliest silver thread of dawn snuck cloaked in hood and robe out of the city and into the wide open world of Azeroth seeking whatever would be bestowed upon her by will of The Light.
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