` scars and souvenirs is a blog I made dedicated to my roleplay stories on World of Warcraft. it is here that I will post both played-out stages of my characters' journeys, as well as experiences from their past that helped to make them who they are. I hope you can find these tales interesting, and if you have any questions or some constructive criticism feel free to drop me a message! :)

I'll mark all my posts with one of the following letters or words to label them- that way, nobody should get confused as to when they took place or what they're about!

x ;; past
o ;; roleplayed
v ;; an OOC update
diary ;; IC thoughts, though not necessarily kept in a journal

Wednesday, October 16, 2013


Seilu ran. She wasn't sure how far, or for how long, but she ran. Perhaps that was all she was really good at, in the end. Running away from her problems. After all, she had been running for over a century from her 'legacy' as Velonar would phrase it, and she had never once looked back. She had never considered that maybe she had been wrong, or that maybe her actions were the selfish ones of a child.

She was such a fucking fool. For many, many years she had put her past behind her and hadn't even given it a second thought. After all, one of her mottos was “Live in the present; don't dwell on the past.” You could not change a mistake you've already made, no matter how much you wished you could.

No, you couldn't change the past, but you could change the future and you could correct your errors. Seilu realized this too late- any hope of making amends had died with her father over a decade ago.

She was stupid. How had she been so blind? She had accused Uriel Sunhollow of being a terrible father, of hating her and of having standards she could never hope to meet. It was true that he had been distant and that he had never expressed blatant pride, but she had never stopped and thought that maybe it wasn't intentional.

He was a single father who had no previous knowledge on how to care for a child. He'd hired a nanny because he had no other choice- to his knowledge, that was the best he could have done. He had never hated her. Velonar was right; a father never wished for their child's death. Uriel just hadn't known how to cope with an uncooperative, stubborn little brat of a kid.

Maybe he had been disappointed, but then maybe he hadn't understood then either. Seilu did try her hardest to learn with everybody else, but she was younger and smaller than the other trainees. At the time, she was also the only girl, and she struggled. With her attitude, it could be very easily assumed that yes, she was slacking.

Everybody knew communication was very important in any relationship, with a friend or family member or significant other. It was common sense, but she had been so thick-skulled that it had never even crossed her mind to talk to her father.

Now it was all too late.

Too late.

Seilu skimmed her fingertips over a mossy tombstone as she searched the rows of the old cemetary. It was located in the ruins of Silvermoon- it wasn't well-kept anymore because of the Wretched, but some people braved the odds to visit their loved ones' graves.

It took her a moment of near-absent wandering to find what she had only semi-consciously been looking for.

Uriel Sunhollow

There were no titles, no endearments inscribed in the marble. Just his name. Simple, the way he would've liked.

The grave beside his was grander and more beautiful, with a life-sized statue of a beautiful elvish woman playing a harp and singing sitting atop it. She had a joyous expression, and her eyes seemed to glitter with mirth even though they were little more than a carving. Seilu stopped in front of this grave first, reaching out to idly brush off some dead leaves.

Hi, mom,” she murmured, gazing at the statue's weather-worn face. There were familiar lines there, ones that were present on Seilu's own face.

I'm sorry I haven't visited lately. I've been really busy.” The blonde took a deep breath and closed her eyes, choking down a few tears. Movements jerky, she moved on to stand before her father's smaller and less impressive grave.

She didn't say anything. She just stared at his name for a long time, before sinking down to kneel in front of it.

Seilu had never mourned for her father. When he had died, she had hardly batted an eye- she wasn't even present for the funeral. She arrived a couple of days after because she wanted to be there for her baby brothers.

All at once, the weight of her grief came crashing down on her shoulders, and the tears spilled over. It had never really occurred to her, but her parents were dead. She was an orphan, and she had thrown away her relationship with her father as if it didn't matter. “I'm sorry, Ann'da,” she said, her voice tiny and broken. She leaned forward, her arms wrapped around her stomach. “I'm so sorry.”

The dam broke, and she wept.

Friday, December 28, 2012


The wail of a baby filled the air, and its black-haired mother slumped back into her bed. Sweat beaded her brow, and her blue eyes were dull. She looked weak, and ill.

"Stay with me, Saria," her golden-haired husband pleaded, the agony evident in his voice.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, writhing as another wave of pain washed over her. She was feverish. "I-is it a girl?"

"Yes." Though she knew he had been wanting a son, the woman had also known that she would give him a daughter- call it a mother's intuition.

The doctor tending the couple had swaddled the newborn in a red blanket embroidered with gold. He carefully placed her in her mother's arms, the infant's cries calming considerably.

"Seilu," she said after a moment. She smiled. "My beautiful little girl."

There were tears in her eyes as she brushed a tuft of white-blonde hair over her daughter's forehead. "I'm sorry, little Seilu, that I cannot be there for you through the heartbreak the future holds for you," she murmured, her voice fading as her strength did. "Know that I'll always love you, and that I'll always be in your heart."

Looking up at her solemn husband, she nodded; he turned his face away, though tears were fresh on his cheeks. "I have failed you," he choked out. While many of his actions over the years had seemed heartless, the head of the house of Sunhollow loved his wife without question. The loss of her would be felt by everyone who knew the stoic warrior.

"No, my beloved. You have given me everything I ever wanted. I-" Saria was interrupted by a fit of coughing. The man's eyes widened when the hand she'd covered her mouth with came away bloody. "I love you."

Those were the dying words of the woman with the voice of a songbird. The doctor carefully extracted a screaming Seilu from her mother's arms, even as her father fell to his knees and sobbed. He shouted and cursed, pleading his wife to come back in broken whispers.

He would find a surrogate for his daughter. He would raise her and love her, but the pain of his first wife's death would stay with him forever and his blonde-haired daughter would always remind him, with her pouty lips, determined gaze and slightly-upturned nose of the beautiful woman he'd loved with all his heart and who had taken his heart with her to the grave.

Sunday, September 16, 2012


"Seilu, what did you do to your face this time?" The aged high elf asked his blonde daughter, staring in horror at the new nose ring and eyebrow piercing. She folded her arms and glared back, her cyan eyes filled with defiance. "Take them out."

She scowled, her eyebrows furrowing. "Make me." She knew her father would never physically harm her, nor grab her and take out the piercings himself. He didn't have anything to bribe her with, either.

His frown mirrored hers- she did get it from somewhere- and he drew a palm over his face. "I don't understand why you're doing this," he muttered sourly, turning his back to her. That was fine. He didn't understand her, so of course he wouldn't comprehend her reasoning behind anything she did.

The teenage Seilu uncrossed her arms, then put her hands on her hips with a more impish, but at the same time more challenging and serious grin. "Ann'da, when is practice tomorrow?"

He didn't skip a beat before replying, "You're only wasting my time by coming. You barely even try to keep up and you can hardly lift a sword, nevermind wield one."

"Bullshit! If you'd just-"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me." The iciness in his voice made the girl stop. "If I hear that kind of language out of your mouth again..." He trailed off. Neither of them were entirely sure where he was going with that, but Seilu knew her father would likely come up with something.

After a moment of tense silence, the blonde-haired Quel'dorei turned and stormed away, intending to go and sulk in her room. She wouldn't allow him to see her tears or weakness. She wished her mother was still alive- she knew the black-haired woman would encourage her, rather than deny her aspirations.


It was during the following hours of solitude that Seilu decided that she would run away. If her father wouldn't teach her to be a warrior, she would find someone else to and she would be the strongest fighter he'd ever laid eyes on. A part of her sought his approval, but her impudent, adolescent self mostly just wanted to shove it in his face that he'd been wrong.

Rather than find a tutor, however, Seilu found herself poor and vulnerable as she wandered a human town. It was when she found herself pinned to the wall by the man whose pocket she tried to pick that an idea struck her- perhaps she didn't have to be the same kind of warrior- perhaps she could fight from the shadows instead.

She found the same man who'd caught her the next day and demanded to be trained as a rogue- she was young, selfish and feisty, refusing to take no for an answer. For some reason, he agreed.

Monday, September 10, 2012


Seilu was young for an elf, still in her teens- however, she showed much promise as a rogue. She wasn't just some other thief looking to learn a thing or two about stealth, or a mercenary who thought they were an assassin. She wasn't entirely sure what she was, and neither was I- but she was definitely something.

An adolescent elf is still several times more agile and swift than a human- the only advantage I had over her when we first met was years of experience. She was clumsy, a fact made clear by her failure in picking my pockets. I had her backed against a wall and a knife to her throat before she knew what hit her. Something in her eyes, though... she had a stubborn defiance in those blue eyes I'd never seen before. I released her and sent her on her way, but it wasn't a day later that she'd sought me out and demanded I train her. I had never trained anyone before, but for some reason, I agreed.

It took a while for both of us to gain our bearings around each other- rogues aren't especially social as a rule. I had to get used to being a tutor and she had to get used to being a pupil.

Days turned into months, and the next thing I knew, it had been three years and she beat me in every sparring match we had. She had recently had a birthday and was slowly turning into a beautiful woman- maybe I was prejudiced, because as time passed, I had fallen irrevocably and hopelessly in love with her. I was stupid. She would live for centuries; I would be lucky to last another fifty years. It was because of this that I never told her.

Despite her outgrowing my training, we continued to travel together. Time flew. I felt age creeping up on me as I neared my fortieth year, especially while in the presence of someone who was so long-lived. Not a single wrinkle appeared on her face. Without looking in a mirror, I knew I was getting the beginnings of crows' feet around my eyes. I felt aches and pains in my bones when I woke up on particularly damp mornings that I had never worried about before.

I was frail.

When I was cornered by a basilisk matriarch deep in an iron mine, trying to retrieve the foreman's gear for him, I was helpless. I tried to avoid her petrifying gaze, but as I looked away I could feel my limbs growing heavier, stiffer...

A scream so full of fury and passion like I'd never heard before sounded when Seilu exploded from the shadows, her blades raised high. Before the basilisk could even glimpse its attacker, the elf had plunged her dagger into the creature's side and begun to hack furiously at her with her sword. The matriarch roared with anger, whirling around and knocking the sword away as she bit into Seilu's leg. 

The Quel'dorei screamed again, but it wasn't just in pain. Drawing a smaller knife normally used for throwing out of her boot, she buried it into the basilisk's eye- so agonizing was the wound, that the massive reptile released Seilu- one of her fangs breaking off into the high elf's leg as she did so- and turned, making an attempt to flee. My Seilu wouldn't have any of that. She tore the fang out of her leg and leaped onto the basilisk's neck, then stabbed it into the very top of her skull...

My consciousness was dwindling, as was my sight, but I felt warm hands- wet with blood- cupping my face. Soft hair brushing my forehead as the woman I wished I could live to love leaned over me, calling my name and pleading me to come back. "I love you," was the last thing I could say before the petrification reached my lungs and chest, depriving me of the ability to speak or even breathe.

"I love you, Ian. I'll never forget you. I promise."