What made your character chose that class? Was it by choice? destiny? Curse?
Who are you ?
That’s a bit of a broad question but one my favorite questions to answer.
Where do I start? I decided to take up the sword at the young age of seven, I think my mother wanted me to be a mage, but after being kidnapped, escaping, and being taken in by Amani trolls. My mother assumed that they had kidnapped me. I saw the destructive power of the arcane and what fire and ice could do to a person and I didn’t want to have anything to with that.
I decided that I wanted to do what my grandfather did. Kel’Magnus Dawnlight, the Navy General of Silvermoon. He put me under his wing and taught the basics single sword fencing and two-handed broadsword. My lessons went on for the past few months but then the Invasion happened and I narrowly escaped with my life.
My father, who was a slave by the way, following the beach, over the ice bridge and into what was renamed the Plaguelands, took me to Light’s Hope. I don’t remember much of this though, I was slipping in and out of consciousness in my father arms. When I became fully aware I was in a dusty old church the paladin’s were putting me under some kind of treatment. Things weren’t very clear back then, I often forgot where I was, I would wake up someplace and have no idea how I got there, and when I would try to speak my words made no since when they came out. That time wasn’t very clear. That stopped after the Sunwell was destroyed, most of the time after that I just felt tired and weak. Eventually the treatment empowered me with the Light to where I could cast a few healing spells.
So I guess a little bit of all three.
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I am someone who cursed myself.
I was a rogue. I had a wife, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Our marriage wasn’t easy; our peoples belonged to opposite factions and sometimes we just couldn’t be together. Other times, we were working for our respective factions but since our goals were the same we worked together.
One of those times, we were both captured and she was taken from me. She was forced to fight a pit lord in just her base clothing and with a rusted sword. The demons who took her came back to me and laughed as they told me she was dead. Then they tortured me and left me to die.
I was saved by the Illidari. Without my wife I was aimless and full of rage. I cursed my existence and decided to become a demon hunter hoping to quell the pain and rage in my heart.
It didn’t work.
And later, after my imprisonment in the Vault of the Wardens, I found out that she’d been saved at the last moment.
I sacrificed everything… for nothing.
As for my wife? I’m just glad that she understood and took me back, despite the fact that she’s a paladin.
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I am Kerri. I don’t remember my previous surname.
My past is coming back to me slowly. I still don’t really know what I did before I was raised as a Death Knight. When it happened, I didn’t even remember my name. The nearest Death Knight to me took one look at me and my pink hair and huge blue eyes and asked, “what are you supposed to be? Death by cute?” And the name stuck. They still call me that.
I actually didn’t want to be a Death Knight. I don’t know why it happened to me. I tried to atone for it by working closely with the Argent Crusade. It took quite a while to gain their trust, but eventually they decided I was an okay person and bestowed upon me the title of the Argent Champion.
Other that that? I have no friends, no family, no true home.
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I enjoy answering these types of things.
I’m Gilnean, I grew up on a vineyard and growing up in such a place I loved plants. I even had a small herb garden off around the side of the house, i was good at it and even had the Harvest Witch teach me a thing or two. I might have followed that path if it wasn’t for the naivety of a twelve year old me.
I was in the city with my family, my twin sister was off running to watch the soldiers train while I hand been more drawn to books. I saw a bookshop and I begged and begged my father to buy me a book. He reluctantly agreed to by me one. So I rushed in looking through the books I picked on one and it was very floral on the front. Naturally twelve year old me thought it was about plants, a book that had plants on the cover it must be about plants. However it was not it was a book on the basics of magic and that is where my education of the arcane began.
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Nowise trained in Pandaria after the Pandaren Revolution (12,000 BDP) but before the War of the Ancients (10,000 BDP). The Kaldorei and Pandaren Empires were close allies pre-Sundering, and my character took notice of the similarities between the two societies: resilient, respective of nature, peaceful, and eager for knowledge.
Nowise had learned of how the Pandaren overthrew their oppressive rulers using nothing more than spiritual energy and the fist. He knew there was much to learn, much to understand, not just for himself but for the Kaldorei, and so he set out to learn.
But it wasn’t meant to last. Mere centuries after training in Pandaria he was drawn to fight in what is now known as the War of the Ancients. As he departed, Pandaria was shrouded in mist, gone, vanished.
Though he had spent a few centuries training with the Pandaren, a Monk’s training never truly ends. Life itself is an endless journey toward greater knowledge, spiritual enlightenment, and perfection.
Over the next few thousand years he adopted a unique Kaldorei fighting style, including being a brewer of kombucha, not beer.
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Oh choice. Circumstances had a part in it too. I wasn’t always this beautiful of a monk. I was once a pretty good looking rogue. Ha!
Listen Paw, can I call you Paw? I’ll spare you the life story, it’s not important. But you see I fundamentally believe personal strength is needed for survival. To get by in this world, to do things I want to do, to live the lifestyle I want to live, I needed to know some practical skills.
So that’s what I did. Fighting was basically my life from day one. Fate never gave me any favors. Over time, through various ways, I learned the arts of combat, skill with knives and blades, and how to use every dirty trick in the book. A variety of other things too that were self-taught. I failed once and my weakness cost me… I learned from that. Tried to become self-sufficient.
Then years ago during that whole Garrosh nonsense I came to Pandaria. Gorgeous place, very fond of it! I still go back every now and then. Early on in my visit I nearly died. But the pandaren saved me and they taught me many interesting things. Believe it or not, I ended up living in a monastery with them for two years.
Longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere in a long time. I don’t necessarily agree with all of their philosophies, honestly they tend to ramble if you ask me. One of my masters I swear could go on for hours! Ugh…so many scroll readings.
But some of the ideas stuck and I trained intensely in their fighting styles too. I’ve felt better ever since, lighter and less burdened. I’m grateful to them so I left my swords behind and follow their style, mostly. I still don’t fight fairly though.
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Long story , but I suppose I can break it down in to three simple parts.
— Nalice of the Black Dragon flight took an interest in me. I would rather not elaborate further regarding that. And , regardless , kiddies might be lurking about , and plenty of adults are of tenderer sentiments too than they suppose.
— strike two ; Stratholme was my home town.
— I’m really an emotive , care bear , pet - loving , Cenarian - type.
But I hit like a girl. 
And , like I said , Nalice took an interest in me .
So here I wound up a babysitter for demons and a hatchet girl for the Forsaken.
Life is strange. And the Gods have a funny sense of humor.