| Djuni | |
|---|---|
| [[Image:|frame|250px]] | |
| Guild | None |
| Title | None |
| Nicknames | None |
| Game Name | None |
| Class | Mage |
| Race | Draenei |
| Gender | Female |
| Age | 123 |
| Height | 2.4 meters |
| Weight | 102 kilograms |
| Hair Color | Black |
| Eye Color | Iridescent Silver |
| Skin Color | Cobalt Blue |
| Alignment | N/A |
| Professions | Mining, Jewelcrafting |
Biography[]
The Temple[]
She stared, awed, at the massive, graceful structure, at its towers and crystal windows. The Temple. All Draenei knew of it, and all were welcome within its halls, yet this was the first time Djuni had ever laid eyes on Karabor.
"A beautiful place, is it not?" The deep, faintly amused voice came from right behind her, making her jump, and Djuni's tendrils curled in embarrassment at being caught gawking like some Orc. The man behind her was tall and solidly built, wearing the black and gold armour of a Paladin of the Light. "Just remember that the beauty of a place can only be as great as the beauty of its inhabitants. And I am not speaking of mere physical comeliness, but of the beauty that surrounds a soul firmly in the embrace of the Light. Remember this."
Djuni nodded eagerly, although she could tell the guardian thought she was just overwhelmed... which she was.
"Good enough," he said. "My name is Akama. And this is Maiian. She will be your guide until you get settled in."
Another young Draenei peeked out from behind the guardian's bulk. She grinned cheekily, tendrils twisting in amusement, mildly mocking Akama's pomp. She stepped out from behind the Paladin's body, smoothing her acolyte's robes. Eagerly, she grasped Djuni's arm, linking it through her own as she led the mildly bewildered young Mage towards one of the outlying buildings.
"You're staying in my dorm," Maiian chattered as they walked. "You're studying with Mistress Valarii, aren't you? She's really smart, but you'll have to be careful or she'll turn you into a beetle. That's not fun, take it from me. And then tonight there's..."
The Fall[]
They huddled together in the dark.
Maiian flinched as a crash - distant, but not distant enough - followed by a scream, penetrated the tiny closet in which they were hiding. Burying her face further into Djuni's chest, her sobs were thankfully muffled. Djuni stroked her partner's hair, and their tendrils twined together, her own face blank and traumatised.
The Orcs had attacked without warning, and without mercy. The Temple Guardians had fought valiantly to defend their charges, but they had been taken by surprise, and were scattered and disorganised. One by one they had fallen to the swarm.
That had begun hours before, and over time the screams had become more and more spaced apart, as those few who had managed to find hiding spaces were rooted out by the Orcs. Djuni wondered if she and her companion were the last Draenei left alive in the entire Temple.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway outside their refuge, and Djuni tensed, holding Maiian closely to her chest with one hand and gripping a dagger - really little more than a large letter opener - in the other. It would be useless against any Orc warrior, but there was always the faint hope that she would get lucky and be able to keep the vicious beasts away from her partner for even a few more seconds.
She wished she'd taken the time to tell Maiian how much she loved her, but there had always seemed to be all the time in all the worlds.
The footsteps halted right outside the doorway, and the clinking of metal and creaking of leather could be plainly heard, and Djuni readied herself for a last, desperate assault. Pushing Maiian behind her, she held the dagger out before her, reaching into the last remaining dregs of her mana to call up a flame that danced around her fingers.
The Orc that faced her was an older male, as far as she could tell, stoop-shouldered and massive as were all of his race. He was bald and battle-scarred, holding a heavy mace in one hand, and a large shield in the other. That weapon and shield, as well as his metal-studded armour, were surprisingly clean, considering the massacre that had just taken place, and shamanistic totems hung from his belt.
He looked only mildly surprised to see them, but still didn't raise his weapon against them. When he spoke, his words were shockingly in heavily accented Draenei.
"Follow, if you wish to live. I can show you a way out."
The Wandering[]
Coming soon...