Ashrinn

Character Stats
Name: Lord Ashrinn Pinecroft

Title: A variety of titles that he finds embarrassingly florid.

Age: mid fifties

Hair Color: Black, shot through with silver at the temples

Eye Color: Dark green

Skin Color: Olive

Height: 6'2

Marital Status: Divorced

Mother: Deceased

Father: Deceased

Siblings: None

Appearance
Ashrinn is a well-muscled, somewhat careworn man who moves with the discipline of a career soldier. His black hair is shot through with silver at the temples, and is usually pulled back into a serviceable, waist length tail or braid. He has a neatly trimmed beard. Ashrinn's eyes are a dark jade green, and any emotion that swirls within them is generally difficult to read. His armor is well cared for and the clothing beneath it is finely tailored. Rarely, the glint of a heavy white gold necklace can be seen, but any pendant it might support is almost always hidden.

Occasionally his movements are stiff, suggesting a combination of old war wounds and the beginnings of arthritis. He wears a faded armband bearing the symbol of the Silver Hand. Sometimes spectacles can be seen perched on his nose, though they have a distressing habit of sliding out of place. He resembles nothing so much as an aged yet fearsome lion, virility and confidence still emanating from him effortlessly. Should he be seen without clothing, an impressive collection of scars is readily apparent.

While he is still capable of being all business in battle, he is usually wearing a blissful, vaguely surprised expression almost constantly as of late. A good amount of that old pervasive sorrow seems to have lifted, making him given to smiling, an expression that makes his jade green eyes shine. He is more relaxed—to say nothing of more sober—than he has been in years.



Personality
Ashrinn is a reserved man. He rarely lets his true feelings show, though his life as of late is putting some serious cracks in his psychic armor. He has a sense of humor more politely described as dry, and gives the impression of constantly bearing a heavy emotional weight. He is capable of calling upon an intensity of presence that can be frightening.

Gerolt's opinion: "He's a sweet kind of guy. Very determined, very gentle, and you couldn't have a better friend, but he takes himself too seriously. That's probably just the strain of being a career soldier. He burns with intensity, you could say. I think he yearns for a purpose, and when he finds it then he can be at peace. I don't think he truly believes in much of anything anymore, not on a personal level. There's sorrow behind his eyes. I can't say I blame him. Yeah...I've liked Ashrinn from the start, I'd say..."

Elara's opinion: "Oh, Light, where do I even start? There are... certain things that for his sake I am going to keep quiet on, but suffice to say... he's proof that there are still a few good noblemen out there who didn't go off and die heroically in the wars, even if perhaps he would have preferred such a fate. I fear for him, though; with the kind of sucker punches he's taken from life, a martyr complex is NOT a good thing to have on top of that. And there is truth to the saying that those who burn twice as bright, burn half as long..."

Background
Ashrinn was born to Lady Serena and Lord Ashton Pinecroft in Stromgarde. The Pinecrofts were a well thought of noble family, but not a particularly distinguished one. The Lord and Lady were not inclined towards the path of the hero, but instead preferred to play courtly games.

Ashrinn was their only child and a son, so almost from the moment of his birth he bore the hefty weight of all their expectations. From that same moment he went about defying them.

As the child grew, it became apparent that he had little interests in the pursuits deemed seemly for the male children of nobles. He was actively put off by hunting. In fact, he was quite sentimental about animals and frequently turned up at the manor house with mongrels in need of healing or dinner, much to his mother’s shrill and forceful disapproval. He squirmed every time they drug him off to a party, wherein he was expected to be sociable and proper. He preferred to climb trees and play in the dirt, an activity helped along by his affinity for plants, especially flowers. His parents were quite taken aback by his doings, better suited in their minds, to the children of peasants.

Ashrinn was a demonstrative, sensitive child. It never occurred to him to suppress his tears when he was hurt, or to keep a hug to himself. The Lord and Lady were, therefore, quite worried that their only son was gay. Ashrinn was frequently punished for a variety of actions and statements that seemed perfectly normal to him. Slowly he learned to take injured animals to the priests and to bestow his beloved flowers on his friends. He came to accept that he did not fit in well with his own family, though why his parents seemed so anxious escaped him.

His defiance of their hopes culminated at the age of fifteen with his announcement that he was going to join the army and become a warrior. His parent’s fears finally came into the open. Ashrinn was more than a little disgusted by the content of their protests. He enlisted anyway, and his parents weren’t prepared to disown their only son over his choice of profession. There was always the hope that he would give them grandchildren after all.

Away from his parents for the first time, drunken carousing and sexual conquests (some of which would have confirmed his mother’s worst fears) was the order of the day for Ashrinn. Frighteningly charismatic, he quickly gained a gang of followers and began a meteoric rise through the ranks, though his rowdiness stymied his progress somewhat.

After his first year in the military, Ashrinn used his leave to return home to Strom for some leisure time. It was there that he met Khiriana, a young mage student on vacation from Dalaraan. For Ashrinn it was love at first sight, and he turned on his charms full volume in an effort to win her over. Her intelligence, sharp wit, and beauty were a cocktail too compelling for him to resist, and he was irretrievably lost to her from the moment he saw her.

Luckily for Ashrinn, Khiriana responded to him quickly and with a depth of feeling to rival his. They were married in less than a year. His parents were so happy that he’d brought a girl home the fact she was a mage caused barely a ripple. It was not long after the marriage that Khiriana became pregnant with a son, who she and Ashrinn named Coren.

Ashrinn was quite content with his new family, but the yearning for a greater cause than that the military could offer made him restless. While he distinguished himself in the First War, he could not shake the feeling that he was missing something. When Uther Lightbringer exploded onto the scene in a burst of glory, Ashrinn was swept up by a powerful and motivating hero worship. He dedicated himself to Uther and the Light, becoming one of the first paladins.

Again Ashrinn drove himself to succeed, and his devout nature and skill for leadership earned him his own unit. Naming the band the Endless Storm, Ashrinn went about molding them into an elite strike force. As war again erupted across Azeroth, the Endless Storm distinguished themselves time and again. A battle with a red dragon became one of the more colorful tales.

In contrast to his highly promising career as a paladin, Ashrinn’s home life deteriorated rapidly. He was heartbroken to discover that his wife, whom he had doted on for twelve years, had been entertaining lovers while he was away. Suddenly the arguments that they had been engaging in more and more on his leave time made a disturbing amount of sense. Ultimately Khiriana left him for a High Elf, leaving Ashrinn as Coren’s only guardian. His rage and despair at having been cuckolded, and that he felt on behalf of the son his wife had abandoned, were vast. Yet he did what he could to mitigate them around the boy, though he suspected the child, with his keen mind, was more than aware of the true nature of the situation.

Whereas before it had been thoughts of Khiriana that had kept Ashrinn motivated when out in the field, even when sleeping in cold muck and eating whatever could be scraped from the earth, it was now a drive to be the best leader to the Endless Storm that he could be. The knowledge that Coren was counting on him only underscored the point, causing him to become even more driven than he had been before.

Coren befriended a half elven girl by the name of Liuceijya, despite her initial reserved nature. The two became fast friends. Unfortunately Ashrinn and Liuceijya’s mother, a High Elf called Raietha, were destined to be at one another’s throats nearly constantly. Much to Raietha's displeasure, the rest of the family was quite taken with him, especially her husband Malkai and her youngest child Rosi. When Liuceijya, enrolled in magery studies, decided she wanted instead to be a paladin, it was Ashrinn who defended her choice to her shrieking, distraught mother. Coren had already begun following in his father’s footsteps, and it was with great joy that he learned his best friend would once again be at his side.

Ashrinn endeavored to be as present for Coren as he could be, despite being away frequently. It was around this time that a new recruit, a young man named Gerolt, was transferred into the Endless Storm.

Gerolt was a talented warrior yes, but unfortunately he knew it. He was brash, lewd, and resented authority, frequently loudly and interspersed with vitriolic verbal abuse. Ashrinn was not shy about taking the flat of his blade to the boy, however, and over the months and eventually, years, he mellowed into a man worth trusting one’s life with. Ashrinn’s nigh legendary ability to drink any of his people under the table certainly helped win Gerolt’s respect, as well. It wasn’t long before Gerolt met and fell for Jericho, one of the women in the unit. A warrior as well, Jericho was a woman of impressive proportions who had distinguished herself time and again. For once Ashrinn felt as though he’d accomplished something, and felt quite proud of the progress the newest Endless Storm member had made. The unit looked forward to the marriage that was soon in the offing.

The brief reprieve Ashrinn had enjoyed was swiftly over, however. When Stratholme burned and Arthas began murdering innocents, Ashrinn was confronted by his own child and soon to be daughter in law. They believed in Arthas and his methods, despite Ashrinn’s heated attempts to sway them to Uther’s reasoning. He watched them walk away, young adults now, his heart sinking. He knew in some primal fashion that the moment was a turning point for the worst. Neither could he save Rosi from being one of the innocents 'purged' by Arthas.

The Third War erupted in violence and horror. The animated dead rolled across Azeroth in an ever increasing flood. The Endless Storm was run ragged, being sent into any number of conflicts. They knew that they were an insufficient bandage for the wounds opening on the very face of the land itself, but gave their all as they did every time they drew weapons.

Dread suffused Ashrinn when he opened the orders: hold Corrin’s Crossing against the Scourge. He knew that it was a suicide mission. How could they possibly stand against the relentless armies of death? He put it to his people immediately, telling them the naked truth of the matter. He offered each member of the Storm an out, telling them that if they walked away he wouldn’t blame them. Not a single member bowed out, not even the sweet and demure priest or the young and scholarly mage. Their courage moved Ashrinn deeply, but it also broke his heart. What had he done to deserve such devotion? He was leading them into certain death. Ashrinn prayed to the Light for a miracle.

The battle for the Crossing was, quite simply, a pocket of pure hell on earth. The howling, screeching hordes, made of putrefying flesh and scorched bones, rolled over all life in their path. The screaming of the villagers still free from infection added a shrill, desperate undertone to the battle, the sound of suffering. Each member of the Storm gave their best, but Ashrinn watched them fall one by one. Jericho, surrounded on all sides by ravening undead, swinging her blade and shouting insults until she disappeared under the weight of her foes. Shinda, still with baby fat on her cheeks, alight with the black flame of shadow power. Daniel, calling upon the arcane with all the energy in his body, Scourge flesh melting off bones in bubbling rivers.

One by one, the Scourge tore them apart. Ashrinn was covered in a thousand stinging wounds, and the Light energy flowing constantly through his body threatened to fry his mind. At the end, it was he and Gerolt, fighting back to back. Ashrinn knew they were doomed. The pain, knowing that his friends were dead, was almost unbearable. Yet it also drove him to greater heights; he would take as many stinking undead with him as he could.

The arrow entering Gerolt’s body seemed to move in slow motion. For a moment, Ashrinn’s world stood still. His friend swayed, dropped his blade, and fell from the cliffs they had been forced onto. Ashrinn’s brain struggled to cope with what had just happened, the last member of the Endless Storm besides himself having been struck down. He turned back to the howling hordes and in that moment, he cried out to the Light in a way he never had before.

The pure power coursed through him was like electricity, boiling over even as he howled a wordless cry of denial and defiance. The resulting explosion of energy was terrible to behold. Scourge exploded into nothingness as Ashrinn waded back into battle, shining with the Light. His final consecration scorched the very stones of Corrin’s Crossing.

He awoke alone, in the center of a blast area. The particular wave of undead that had murdered his unit were gone, shattered into meaningless pieces by Ashrinn’s answered prayer. Despite his body doing its best to fail on him, the bereft paladin dragged himself across the battlefield, doing his best to find something, anything that had belonged to each one of his friends. Reinforcements found him with his arms full. Jericho’s sword, Shinda’s favorite pendant, a scrap of Daniel’s bright robe. He could recover nothing of Gerolt’s. He fainted before he could be lead from the field, and woke up in a military hospital on strict orders to stay in bed. He’d nearly died from wounds and from the sheer intensity of the Light using his body as a vessel; he was only flesh and blood, after all.

Ashrinn went home a broken man. It was the news that Coren, estranged from his father for some time, had been murdered that drove him over the edge. Malkai's death at Mt. Hyjal certainly didn't help matters, either. (It is said it was Ashrinn, not Raietha, that received Malkai's signature blade) Ashrinn had always loved drink, but now it became a full on obsession. Ashrinn went from a man at the apex of his career to a man shouting incoherently, sodden drunk in the wee hours of the morning in the streets of Stormwind. He drank until he couldn’t feel his face and then fell over wherever he happened to be, night after night.

He very well could have drunk himself to death if it weren’t for the intervention of Elarandine Fairchild. It was her dubious honor to find the Lord Pinecroft passed out in a ditch in the Canal District. Despite a distrust of nobles, something motivated her to pull him out and get him home. The moment sparked a friendship, though the suspicion that Elara was involved in more than met the eye caused Ashrinn to keep her at a distance. To this day the two are prevented from enjoying a deeper relationship by mutual anxieties.

Ashrinn, a trifle more sober in disposition than before, devoted his time and resources to discovering the truth of his son’s murder. The truth was worse than he could have imagined; the culprit was none other than Liuceijya, the woman who had become, in the years since he had last seen Coren, his daughter in law. Though it took time, Ashrinn eventually had her apprehended. During Liuceijya’s time in prison, her guards acted out a number of atrocities upon her. Already riled by similar horrors he had seen while in the field and sickened by the stories surrounding what had been done to Liuceijya’s best friend Ashantae, Ashrinn acted quickly and decisively upon discovering the truth of the matter. With the support of his fellow paladins, Ashrinn executed the ringleaders and assigned the others to punishments designed to keep them from reenacting any such horrors.

While Ashrinn was certainly moved by Liuceijya’s fate, it did not erase her many crimes from his mind. Apart from Coren’s murder, Liuceijya was responsible for atrocities of her own; her career as a commander in the Crusade was heavily stained with blood. Elarandine was asked to delve into Liuceijya’s mind in an attempt to glean whatever information she could, but the contact left Elara mentally wounded and served little purpose. Ashrinn himself confronted the girl, hungry for answers as to why she took his only child from him, but he too came away with nothing. The question of where he went wrong with her weighs heavily on him still. It was he that had attempted to guide and protect her as a child. Where had he made that fatal mistake? A bright spot came in the person of Gerolt. The wounds he’d sustained in the battle for Corrin’s Crossing had given him partial amnesia, and he’d found his way into a slop slinger’s job at the Lion’s Pride Inn. Ashrinn could hardly believe that the man in the kitchen was his old friend. Each had assumed the other had died, and Gerolt had tried his best to forge a life for himself that was free of war. Gerolt quickly moved into the Pinecroft Manor after reuniting with his commander.

Ashrinn and his comrade have since taken up arms once more. Liuceijya was recently executed for Coren’s murder, though perversely it has opened Ashrinn’s emotional wounds rather than healing them. Conflict with Elara has not helped matters. Ashrinn suffers from deep depression and alcoholism, and has little but service to others to keep him going. He watches over Gerolt as best he can; the thought of losing him again is too terrifying to contemplate overmuch. He feels entitled to his vices, and does what he can to hide his true desolation. Ashrinn is deeply committed to the Light and the law, though he is not unable to consider the spirit rather than the letter.

As of late he seems unusually spooked and perhaps--some whisper--somewhat unabalanced. Malkai's return as a Death Knight and he and Ashrinn's romantic relationship have caused the Church to excommunicate Ashrinn, though this hasn't dampened his defiance. The Pinecroft manor has become a strange place to be. Iarethion, Malkai's only surviving child, Raelindra, and Aerngrim, another Death Knight and Malkai's best friend, are all residents right now. While Ashrinn is frequently smiling and happier than he has been in years, there is a haunted quality to him.

Goals and Motivations
Protect Gerolt and Malkai

Grow prize winning roses

Generally enjoys being offensive to other nobility

Build a new life and, hopefully, not have it go all to pieces on him again

Relationships
Ashrinn was married for many years to a woman named Khiriana. By most accounts she was a sweet girl, if a bit spoiled. Sadly she grew into a hateful woman who spent half of her marriage to Ashrinn sleeping around on him. Their son, Coren, was twelve when Ashrinn and Khiriana finally seperated, the depths of her actions finally revealed. Her whereabouts are unknown and Ashrinn has no interest in finding her.

Gerolt Dawnkill is the only other survivor of the Battle at Corrin's Crossing. The real nature of their relationship is unknown, but he has recently taken up residence at the Pinecroft estate. ETA: Gerolt has recently gone missing

Elarandine Fairchild (known mostly as Elara) is another personality often seen in Ashrinn's company. No one knows much about the nature of Ashrinn's relationship with her, either, though it's certianly a friendly one. Yet, there does seem to be a certain element of distance between them, mostly on Ashrinn's part. While she doesn't live at the Pinecroft estate, she is a regular fixture there. ETA: A falling out should have been the end of their friendship, but Elara recently rescued Ashrinn from a shadow priest induced coma, perhaps an opening to getting back into his good graces.

Ashrinn was once a close friend to the Silverblade family. Now only two members remain, Raietha and Iarethion. He was particularly close to the youngest child, Rosi. He was forced to leave her behind at Straatholme during the Purge, and she became one of its many victims. He recently came to Raietha's defense when she was being verbally attacked at Light's Hope Chapel. Despite their well known and pervasive dislike for one another, they conversed for a long time. The conversation was intense, but the actual topics could not be discerned by any of the passerby.

As of late it has become known that Malkai Silverblade is in fact the Winterborn, a particularly fearsome Death Knight. Since his return he and Ashrinn have engaged in the same romantic relationship they were apparently carrying on in the past, when Malkai was married to Raietha. This might just have something to do with the warrant out for Ashrinn's arrest, issued by the Cathedral.

Idiosyncrasies
Ashrinn's eyes go blank with white light when he calls upon his powers

Known to play chess against himself

Loves the drink far more than is healthy for him. There are rumors that Elara Fairchild pulled him, sodden drunk, out of a ditch in the Stormwind Canal District when they first met

Still wears the tabard of the Endless Storm, the unit he once commanded

Has an affinity for gardening, and roses in particular

Ashrinn has an ancient white cat named Susan to whom he is quite attached. He also has a small kitten named Basil and a horse named Simon. He gives all his animals very understated human names, an indicator of his tendency to anthropamorphize them

Phobic of fire

Public Knowledge and Rumors
Ashrinn has a warrant out for his arrest, issued by the Stormwind Cathedral.

A decorated war hero of several battles, including the First, Second and Third wars

His son Coren was murdered by his daughter in law Liuceijya Silverblade, when Coren attempted to convince her to join the Argent Dawn and leave the Scarlet Crusade. Liuceijya was executed for her crimes.

Is the only survivor (other than Gerolt) of a battle against the Scourge at Corin's Crossing. The unit under his command perished one by one until only he and a young warrior named Gerolt remained. At what he assumed was Gerolt's death, Ashrinn truly became a terror to behold. People speak in hushed whispers of the howling beast he became in that moment, alight with the fearsome fire of the Light, Scourge falling to his hammer by the dozen.

Elarandine Fairchild was his closest friend until a falling out. Her low birth scandalized the other nobles, but Ashrinn seemed impervious to their disapproval. He discovered that Gerolt Dawnkill survived the battle at Corin's Crossing. A variety of rumors, each more scandalous than the next, flew about Ashrinn, Elara, and Gerolt in a variety of configurations, though Malkai's return has silenced these and spawned a whole new set of speculations. Anyone saying such to Ashrinn's face has been met with a mean left hook, and he was known to defend Elara's honor (dubious though it may be) from a variety of crude men.

There are tales that perhaps he is responsible for his wife's disappearance, but no evidence has ever been found to support this.

Quotes
"Being a drunken asshole sort of takes away my ability to interact effectively with inanimate objects."

"Hopefully I can work it out so all I am wearing is a cloak. Bonus points if I can tell time without using my hands. Then if anyone gets upset, I can explain to them that I am performing a public service by doubling as a sundial."

Culgrim: You busy tomorrow or is your day full up with being surly?" Ashrinn: "I could fit it between "drunk" and "breaking things."

"Heard of me, eh? Tell me you've heard of me because of my escapades involving blowing things up on Lord Edmonton's lawn. In the nude. I do so want to be famous for the right reasons."

"The Light is not happiness. It does not offer comfort. It is, however, the thing that spurs you on when you would otherwise roll over and die."

In reference to the Endless Storm: "When you name things in such a pretensious fashion, the Light has a way of reminding you that nothing is without end."