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Officer Joined: 22 Mar 2007 Posts: 94

I have sworn myself to represent and defend Nature and all that is good in Her. It is my duty and I shall uphold it until my death.

Years ago, too indistinct and blurred-together to count, a baby was born unto a poor family in the forest called Izseran. On that day, it was foretold that this child would one day become a great warrior.

I remember very little about my family. My father was a powerful weapons master who had fought alongside some of the greatest warriors in the War of the Ancients. My youth was filled with intense training to fulfill my father's aspirations for me, supplemented by awe-inspiring stories of legendary battles, Shadowleaf Sentinels, and otherworldly invaders.

But all of the training, all of the stories, would mean nothing. One day, I was among the most skilled swordsmen in all of Izseran; the next, my father left for battle and everything changed. Although I had never heard of it at the time, the name 'Hyjal' has rung in my ears ever since. My mother was burdened by a second child when he departed.

The day after my baby sister was born, a distinct woman with a commanding aura about her came to the house: my father had fallen in the valiant struggle to rid the world of demons in the Battle of Hyjal.

That day, I threw down my sword and shield, never to touch them again. These evil things that stole my father from me would be no part of my life.

I ran. I ran as long and as far as I could. I knew not where I was running and didn't care.

I stayed away for a long time. Weeks? Months? Years? I didn't know. When I returned, my former home was a pile of rubble on the ground. There was a body in the midst of the debris, maimed beyond recognition, but I knew it to be my mother's. Just what had happened was beyond me. There were hoofprints and feathers throughout and surrounding the destroyed house and I was suddenly overcome with a strong desire for revenge, which just as suddenly turned to fear when I realised that my baby sister's body was nowhere to be found.

Again I ran. I had nothing but my woodland robes and a dagger on my belt, but that wasn't about to stop me. I left the forest. I crossed deserts and mountains and plains until I got to the sea. Then I started swimming until I was finally out of energy.

I awakened a good many days after in the midst of bearmen that my recollection of childhood stories told me were furbolgs. I was immediately defensive and drew my dagger, but my captors made no attempt to quell me or attack me. Confused, I dropped the dagger and fell to my knees.

Although I could not understand these creatures, they provided me with shelter and food, which I helped to catch. More importantly, they provided me with opportunity. The way they communed with Nature for power inspired me. I had given up the sword, but this new technique of fighting was different, liberating. Much of my training was observation and communion, not intense practice and studying. I communed with the bears, the nightsabers, the wolves. I observed them in action. I could feel myself developing an empathy, an understanding, with these beasts. They didn't feel all that different from myself. I could feel my spirit mingling with their spirits. I could feel my strength coming from their strength, my ferocity coming from their ferocity, and my subtlety coming from their subtlety.

I was learning to speak with these furbolgs, but there was still a lot I did not understand. Nonetheless, there seemed to be a mutual understanding that it was time for me to leave. I swore to them an allegiance that I would fight for and with Nature to protect Her and Her peaceful inhabitants. Then I departed.

I came across a village of elves that resembled my people as I traveled deeper into the forest. They had not heard of my father, but knew all-too-well of the Battle at Mount Hyjal. Though skeptical, they took me in, explaining that they needed the warriors to stave off people they called orcs. These elves called themselves Kaldorei, but others called them night elves. I recognised the term from stories my father had told me when I was a child. I found them to be rather odd, but I was able to tolerate their customs and quickly grew fond of these newfound brothers and sisters.

I became friends with a male I met at the local inn who seemed to be as tuned to Nature as I was. He called himself a "druid" and told me that if I wanted to continue my training, there were powerful druids who could train me in Darnassus, the new capital of our people. He explained that we were in a volatile region known as Ashenvale, and that I should return to help out once I was better trained.

Though my training proved invaluable and my adventures took me to destinations far and wide, perhaps the most significant moment of my stay in Darnassus was when I befriended a rogue I had met in Astranaar, the aforementioned village in Ashenvale. Shebali and I seemed to be unstoppable together and she pushed me to work even harder at my training. Although we became close friends, we had to part ways for a time, promising to stay in touch and vowing to join forces once again in the future.

From there, my path took me back to the land known as Feralas. When I arrived at Feathermoon Stronghold, I was surprised to know that it was the last settlement of the night elf people in Feralas. I immediately recognised one woman and I could feel her power when I reported for duty. I fought back the desire to run away again. She looked upon me and reported that there had been a skirmish between the local satyr and wildkin in my home village and that my home had been caught in the middle of it. She apologised that she could do nothing to help. I was awe-struck; somehow she had remembered me.

She introduced herself as Shandris and it finally occurred to me who, exactly, this woman was. She was surprised to hear that I was no longer a warrior, but pleased that I had taken up the druidic arts and sworn to protect Nature. That was as much catching up as was done until it was time for me to leave Feralas.

The satyr had defeated the wildkin and drove them into Kalimdor. Her scouts had informed her that the wildkin retreated to the regions of Aran Forest, northwest of Ashenvale, and Starfall Valley, beyond Timbermaw Hold. She welcomed me to make her Stronghold my home, then said no more and I left.

Months later, I was met with a foretelling moment while delving deep into the Centaur Caves of Maraudon. A fellow adventurer, a priest, presented me with an opportunity to join with his band of Elven Rangers, a gesture that was not to be forgotten.

Years passed and I found myself on the Other Continent, this time exploring the depths of Blackrock Mountain. For the second time, a fellow adventurer offered me the chance to become a member of the Aerean Rangers of the Myst. I could not again pass up the possibility of finding sanctuary with the Rangers.

Shebali and I again crossed paths, as we promised each other so long ago. And again we joined forces, this time to bring Order and Balance to the broken world of Draenor, and this time under the banner of the Rangers.

Whilst on vacation in Starfall Valley (what is known in the common tongue as Winterspring), I had the opportunity to meet a powerful druid by the name of Xiera. I was surprised to learn that, like me, she was an Elf of the Twilight Vale, a Verudorei. Unlike myself, however, she gained power from and fought for the Goddess Elune, whom she claimed had been responsible for saving her life as a child and for her ensuing training with the local owlbeasts before they became crazed...

I, Aarisa Valerunner, am sworn to represent and defend Nature with all that I am for as long as I walk in Her midst.

Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 3:58 pm

Ah too bad she quit being a warrior! Just kidding Razz

I enjoyed this, it was a great insight into the beginning of the path to druidry. I like the inclusion of your entrance into the Rangers.

Officer Joined: 22 Mar 2007 Posts: 94

I never knew my father. I never knew my sister. And though I was but a baby when she died, my mother's face is etched into my mind forever.

She is not the only woman who is watching over me, however. The Goddess herself favours me.

"Elune protect me." It's a common enough phrase among the Verudorei and the Kaldorei. For me, it's a reality. Elune recounted my tale for me when I was old enough to understand:

The vile satyr had been encroaching on the land of Izseran for years, but with the presence of the Burning Legion, their strength had become greater than ever before. Not long after your birth, the satyr had been pushing further into the forest. The wildkin there, one of my peoples, made a stand against the satyr. In the process of the battle, the satyr destroyed your home and murdered your mother, but were oblivious to your presence. Though the day was lost, I sent one of the wildkin back -- her name was Arlana in your tongue -- to retrieve you, for I saw great potential in your future. The wildkin could not hold the satyr off for long, though, and so they fled the forest, retreating to the land of Feralas in Kalimdor, and then far to the north, to the Starfall Valley, where you stand today.

It was there and then that my training had begun. Through Elune, I was granted strong healing magics and through the moonkin (as the wildkin were called by local night elves -- in reverence of their bond with Elune), predominantly Arlana, I learned how to use the forces of the stars and the moon to bring justice to my foes.

Then the second-most horrifying event of my life occurred. Gradually and subtly, there was a change among the moonkin. They started becoming more feral and no longer prayed to the Goddess. Arlana sent me away to go live with the night elves at Starfall Village to the north. When I returned to the moonkin village, the transformation had been complete. They were hostile, crazed by some unseen magic, their physical forms so drastically different that they were given the name owlbeast. Shocking as it was, it could do nothing to prepare me for what came next.

I snuck into Arlana's cave, making sure that none of the moonk... I mean owlbeasts had seen me. There, lying in a pool of blood, was the only moonkin left in the village. My heart shattered. Arlana had seen the devastation around her, had seen the sacrilege of her people. And she could not, would not, give in to the magic that had so cursed her people. I knelt beside her then and gave a prayer to Elune. But it was not the Goddess who had answered this time, but Arlana herself. She told me not to cry for her, that she had done what she had to do. She said a prayer for me and gave me her blessing.

Then I felt a change coming over me. I thought to fight it, but realised that it was Arlana that was doing this. My skin became covered with feathers, my mouth and nose grew into a beak, antlers came forth from my head. Arlana told me not to worry, that the change was temporary, and that I could switch back and forth between my elven form and this one at any time. I looked back to Arlana's body, or at least to the ground where her body at lain not long before. I knew then just how selfless a blessing that was. Her last words to me that day were: I'm here for you always.

Elune came to me then, and told me to seek out a powerful druid in the Moonglade, that he would give me the training I needed to help prevent such travesties from happening in the future. I was puzzled at first. Hadn't I been training to become a priestess of Elune? Yes, came the reply, and never forget that I am here to grant you the power of healing, but you have the heart of a druid and so you must follow your path. You have learned to cast with the stars and the moon from the greatest of my people. Now it is time to supplement that power with the power of Nature. Good luck, druid, and know that Arlana and I are forever with you.

My training lasted many years and continues still. I will never forget the amazing people I have met along the course of my training -- a powerful human priest named Aellah, a strong and disciplined human warrior named Valentis, a playful human warrior who speaks like a dwarf named Kirianna, a weird-looking and always drunk mage from some other planet named Istara, among many many others.

Now, my training is sufficient for me to travel to the broken world of Draenor, and under the crest of the Rangers and in the name of Elune, I plan on fighting for Nature in all of her glorious aspects.

I said I never knew my sister, and I truly had not, until she visited Starfall Village. She introduced herself as Aarisa Valerunner (that was the surname that the night elves had given her -- an honorable one too). I did not know it was her until she had left. Elune came to me and told me of her story. I knew at that point that I, too, would take that surname. And I knew that if I were to ever see her again, I would tell her that I am her sister, and she would be proud of me.

I, Xiera Seyllin Valerunner, am sworn to represent Elune in the defense of Nature to the fullest extent of my abilities.

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