Nieda Brightwalker – a background story.
Note: Most of this story has been RP’ed out – hence it might take a couple odd turns along the way, as other RP’ers has influenced my char through IC actions.
A broken elf.
In a corner of the town, outside, was a small figure seen, sitting quietly, directly on the ground.
If you got close, you might hear her mumble, while noticing her holding a small worn out prayer book.
The elf could be described as skinny. Her height below average as well, she seemed barely adult.
Her name was Nieda Brightwalker. You would not know this, unless you engaged in conversation, but it was indeed her name.
If you had been staying at Crossroads or even Razor Hill for a while, you might even recognize her. She seemed different though. Clothes changed, attitude rapidly different, and she seemed a lot more content somehow.
Nieda had been tormenting her fellow rebels for several months. She had been picking fights, getting way too drunk and offended anything and anyone around her. Her attitude was horrible to say the least. The only way to get away from her spite was usually to punch her unconscious. This had happened more times than most members of the horde could count.
Sometimes a mender would heal her bruises, but only to realize that her behaviour continued as she woke up.
Nieda seemed to want the trouble. She challenged the biggest, meanest looking orcs without hesitation, winded up several targets at once, and did her best to upset people around her. Trolls were named Loa-humpers, orcs were Kor’kron, and goblins were gnomes.
She used her wit to come up with insults, and used them repeatedly, until her victims got mad and reacted to her. She refused to be labelled as an elf, but referred to herself as a goblin. She hated elves, she said, while trying to speak with a goblin accent, claiming to live in Ratchet.
At the same time, she was drinking heavily, until the tiny body could not handle anymore, and she passed out.
An objective watcher might have noticed that the elf seemed suicidal. Unfortunately, it was tough to stay neutral when she targeted you.
There was reason behind the madness, but no one ever bothered to find out. She was just an elf after all. Until one person did.
Nieda was growing up as a normal young elf in Silvermoon. She was training as a paladin, an initiate of the Blood Knight Order, and wanted to become a smith.
Her parents decided to support her wishes, and sent her to Orgrimmar, where she could advance her skills much better, as the skills of a smith are always needed, where goblins are tinkering. Moreover, the crafts wanted by orcs were different from those requested in Silvermoon. They believed elves should not hide in Silvermoon, but mix with the other races in the Horde. She was happy about this decision, and soon made several friends amongst the goblins in Orgrimmar.
Then the rebellion broke out. Nieda did not make it out in time, as well as so many others. She was captured and saw most of her friends tortured and in the end dying.
She was tortured herself, the orcs had not spared her, their amusement towards punishing the elf seemed limitless, no matter whether the scars inflicted were physical or mental. Whether she had been a punching bag, or satisfied other desires. They had told her, she was still just an alliance. That she should refer to them as “sir” like the humans. Then they raped her.
She had been tortured without end. Whipped, burned and bruised. She barely knew how many bones they had broken. They kept her alive however. Using her as their little toy, to keep the grunts amused.
After months in the hands of the most savage of Garrosh’s orcs, she had managed to escape. A guard had been slacking, and the tiny elf had caught the moment to slip away.
There she was, broken in several ways, one of the few survivors from Orgrimmar. She was ashamed.
The shame was soul shattering. Why had she survived, when all her friends had died? Why had she survived, when her friends had been beaten to death? Not to mention the shame of what she had endured due to the orcs torturing her.
She could not surpass the shame of being alive, a paladin – a protector of the weak. She had failed, unable to protect her friends. How could the Light allow such things to happen? She lost her faith.
Nieda hated herself.
She refused to remember, who she was before, and instead honoured her fallen friends, the goblins. She knew, of course, that she was not a goblin, but somehow it felt right.
She tried to bury her feelings on the bottom of a bottle. To begin with, she had crafted a sword, but it soon was sold to supply her with alcohol. The beers dragged her further down, until she reached a point, where she could no longer craft at all. Her income vanished, and she chose alcohol above food.
Nieda was skinny already after her stay in Orgrimmar, and her neglecting behaviour did build neither muscle nor fat. Those few kind souls, who offered her food, could watch her eat it, with manners resembling those of Pandaren, just with even greater speed. She would stuff her mouth, trying to swallow the food without granting herself time to breathe or chew. Some of it was from pure hunger; some of it was fear of having her food withdrawn again. The latter being a leftover from her time in orcish hands. Sometimes she would almost choke, yet continue to stuff food down her throat.
She kept feeling guilt due to surviving where her friends died, and she started offending people for one reason only. She hoped someone would end her misery eventually. As a paladin, it was a shame to commit suicide, but in her broken state, it seemed like having someone else to sort it, was a way to work around it. She hoped for anyone to be the one, who could finally grant her peace.
By now you might be wondering, what changed? Why did she finally stop on her road to self-damnation? The answer is simple. She met a kind soul where one would least expect it.
Janul’Abar, a shadow hunter of the Zul Atal Alarion war band grew curious to this little young elf. He saw himself as a part of the Horde, and saw it as his duty to care for and protect all its members (at least on the rebellion side). The young elf, reminded him of nothing much more than a whelp, and he started wondering why she was behaving so odd. She amused and annoyed him at the same time.
He showed great patience with her, and slowly a very fragile relationship grew between them. Nieda was clearly bribed with food, served by Janul’s mate, but as it worked, it did not seem to bother any of them much. When he finally realized the brutal truth behind her behaviour, he could no longer ignore the broken elf. Despite his war band judging him very harshly, he decided to help the elf, and dragged both her, as well as his pregnant mate with him on a long journey. A decision, which would influence them both, as well as a third troll, who promised to help Janul.
He sold his raptor to pay a boat trip to Eastern Kingdoms, and continued all the way to Eversong Woods, enduring the spite and hostility from the elf the entire way.
When they finally arrived, he used all his powers as a shadow hunter and called upon the help from the Loa, to enter her mind, and tear the darkness cluttering her mind away. This was a tough ritual, which almost killed him in the process. The result worked however, she was purified if you want, or cleansed from her shame and self-hatred, to a degree.
When Janul and Nieda woke up, a few days after the exhausting ritual, she was a changed person. Her shame was no longer overwhelming her, and she finally realized how far away from the path of Light she had strayed. Her feelings were still there, but no longer consuming her mind to the point of self-destruction.
They departed, Janul went home to mend the relationship with his war band, and Nieda went back to her old ways, now seeking to make amends, and hopefully restore her faith in the Light. She started walking the streets of Silvermoon, giving her food and water away, doing good wherever she could, and reading her prayers endlessly.
Half a year later, she finally managed to do just that, to wield the Light again, and ended up joining the Dranosh’ar Dominion, persuaded by a Blood Knight.
Here she received training by Blood Knight Master Zardeth, and made friends with Blood Knight Darleus as well. Over some time, feelings grew between her and Zardeth.
Nieda did not enjoy her time in the Dranosh’ar. Her devastating fear of orcs made her an easy prey, the orcs seemed almost attracted to the fear seeping from the tiny elf.
After an orc pushed her to spar him, and the fight had ended up with the orc pinning her to the ground, Nieda had been in such a terrified state, that Zugrah, one of the leaders, had spoken to Draxurn Bloodgaze, and made him issue an order, to only allow Threlc’osh and Zardeth to train her. Threlc’osh had attempted to do so, with weapons in hand, but Nieda had nearly killed him, as she panicked during the fight. Slowly a bond grew between her and the Blademaster however, and he ended up as the first orc Nieda trusted since the rebellion.
Sadly, her time within the Dranosh’ar was not as expected. The warlord was brutal towards the poor elves, and after being whipped, as well as her beloved losing an ear, and were brutally beaten up, the elves left the Dominion.
Nieda found Zardeth again in Silvermoon, and joined the order The Eclipse. She eventually broke up with Zardeth however, as he turned controlling of her, forbidding her to receive training from others, and limited her rather than aiding her. Zardeth did not take it well. He stopped eating, started drinking, and made several scenes. One day he had left the city. Nieda waited for a few days, then decided to travel to Orgrimmar, to see if she could find him. Despite her fear of orcs, she could not ignore his mental state, she had to ensure that Zardeth was alright.