Aerimal Withershult

Description
The Sin'dorei stands at roughly six foot two, and doesn't look to be overweight, or underweight. Eyes, like all of his race, peer about with the glow of fel magics fueling them. With the return of the Sunwell, the glow of fel green eyes has dimmed, and doesn't seethe with the full force of the dark magic. A tanned face is belmished only by two notable things: a scar in the shape of an X on his left cheek, and a thin, almost over-lookable scar trailing over his right eye. Raven black hair is worn generally down over his shoulders mesily, or kept up in a ponytail, out of his way. His left ear is blemished with a fairly obvious knick in it, making it different from his right ear. His emerald eyes rest generally in a piercing gaze of his surroundings, or a half-lidded lazy state.

His body is toned to that of a Blade-Dancer, or Acrobat, not finding in him the strength to carry around heavy plate, shields, or broadswords. From what is seen, his legs hold the majority of his muscle, whereas his arms are lacking only slightly, though, they are toned enough to wield that which he carries on him: short ranged, and light-weight weaponry. If one were to catch a glimpse of him without his armor on his body, they would find his body covered in thin scars that criss-crossed over him, like a spider's silky web. These hideous rugged scars are no doubt souveniers from the many skirmishes, brawls, and wars he's taken part in.

Birth of Imeralus
Born into House Sunwraith, the boy was the last child borne by Myriaa, matriarch of the House. Imeralus grew up with two other siblings: Arranis, and Irana. Both were exceeedingly good at what their parents wanted them to be. Arranis, was the prime candidate for becoming that of a shield bearer, in the name of their House. Whereas Irana clung to the more archaeic practices of bending magic to her will. Imeralus, wasn't too good at either of these, and instead spent his time toiling over lessons that went from geography, to battle strategy. The only thing that Imeralus seemed to be good at, was learning, even though swordsmanship, and the use of magic seemed like a lost cause on him. Imeralus was put on the back-burner, while his siblings aspired to be that which their parents wanted them to become. In the final half of Imeralus' childhood, he spent the time toiling over hours of lessons, only to follow up with learning swordsmanship from a friend. Needless to say, Imeralus was far from the prodigy with the blade, finding it awkward within his grasp, and almost impossible to handle. Though, eventually the toiling paid off, in his favor. It was soon found out that his grasp was better found with a longsword, rather than a claymore, or something of larger size. With more success, came more hours of work, showing that only through his blood, sweat, and tears would he come off of that back-burner, and try and win the praise of being a notable member of House Sunwraith.

Magical Talent in Hiding
With the hours of toiling work, and unstopping effort, Imeralus began to find himself capable with a blade. Though, even as he tried to read over countless spell books, and grimoires, he found his ability in magic to be laughable. When trying to conjure a fireball, he conjured a small spark of flame in his grasp, that would go out at the slightest of winds. Frustrated by the predicament, he decided to toil over it, just as he did swordsmanship, but to no avail. Running through each lesson that a begining wizard(or magi) should complete, before continuing countless times, with absolutely no show of improvement. Eventually, he decided the books were of no use to him, and were only causing him to try and focus on the book's goal, rather than his own. Putting the books aside, he began to try and cast magic without truly thinking of it, letting the energy flow through him, and come out in any way it wished. The reward was a weak ice lance that shattered against the target, and was laughable, but it was a start. Soon, he began to replay the same scenario, finding that he could memorize the feeling of how the magic would come forth, and try and control it. Even as he soon began to master minor magic, it wasn't his main priority. On nights his body was too over-worked physically, he would stress himself mentally, and go through exercises meant to increase his sorcery. Still, he found the use of magic on the field of battle, in a situation where he needed to react quick, would be counter-productive. With that, he slowed his magical training, until it became almost nonexistant. In the final days of his magical workings, Imeralus managed to conjure up a familiar. This familiar would be a lasting companion for the rest of his life, finding him able to commune with the being he summoned from whatever plane it came from. It was named Vain'ir, and seemed to have an attatchment to him now, and that was all that mattered to the fairly ignorant spell caster.

Assassin? Blade-Dancer? Shield-Bearer? Choices, choices.
Finally, Imeralus had become of age, and was confronted with the choices of what he would do with the rest of his life. Fairly certain that the lifesyle of the adventurer was not one for him, he quickly pushed that from his mind. That really only left two things for him to do: become a craftsman, or become a soldier. Imeralus' idea of being a craftsman made it out to be the worst possible lifestyle in the world, thinking he'd be stuck behind a counter during the days, and stuck creating more wares in the evening with no absolute hope for time to himself. That really only left one option for him: soldier. Knowing the branches of Quel'Thalas' military force, Imeralus figured he would do as his brother did, and become a shield bearer. Though, when he thought of himself trying to walk around in heavy armor, while bearing a shield, the thought quickly disagreed with him. Also when thinking of becoming the sneaky assassin, it brought him to think of the stories he was told when he was younger. Quickly that was pushed from his mind. That left only becoming a blade-dancer, though, much like the assassin, focused less on stealth, and more on quick and agile movements to get where needed, and to silence their targets, while still not being completely useless in an upfront battle.

The Second War
Imeralus, being that he was trained, and ready by this time, was shipped off after the direct attack made by the Horde on Quel'Thalas. Though, before Imeralus was shipped off, he was gifted a hawkstrider by one of his closest friends: Rhymor Rh'gah. The hawkstrider was named Diel'ranar, and was capable of listening in for the sound of a particular whistle, and honing in on it as it's primary destination. The beast was not only strong, but well-armored, and when serving amongst other soldiers, and other races, it was the only real being that Imeralus knew he could permanately trust. Imeralus fought in countless minor skirmishes against the Orcish Horde, and came close to death just as many times. Though, Imeralus would be dead without the aid of a High Elf by the name of Elenicius Withershult. The sneaky, and cunning assassin looked out for Imeralus, just as Imeralus did for him. Quickly, they became friends, against the judgement of their commanders. Though, they would quickly learn of the reason being of why they shouldn't have become friends while in a war.

During the final battles of the Second War, Imeralus began to see that Elenicius was becoming more arrogant, and cocky with his movements. Soon getting struck down, and killed right before Imeralus for his overly arrogant way of fighting, against an Orc whom was clearly stronger than he was given credit for. Driven into a rage, Imeralus did everything he could to kill the Orc, not stopping even for paining wounds that were close to being fatal. Imeralus collapsed onto the ground, leaving the Orc to think he was dead, and allowing him to retreat. Soon, Imeralus was stumbled upon by medics, and just in time to mend his wounds with the magics they commanded. Though, even as they offerred, he did not want them to be completely sealed, wanting them for memory of his fallen friend, and for his own mistakes in the battle. The most prominent reminder resting now on his face: a large scar in the shape of an X.

With the end of the Second War, Imeralus found that he didn't want to be a part of his House, anylonger. Not seeing that he was fit for the lifestyle of being at home, and merely lounging about, and enjoying parties anylonger. Donning the name Withershult, as his surname, he went back to work for the Grand Alliance, fighting alongside them at any chance he got, and training harder than ever, hoping for the day he ran into the Orc again.

The Third War
Before Quel'Thalas was invaded, Imeralus watched illness befall his father, and watched the stoic, and strong man that had led their House for so long lose the battle against the sickness, and pass on. Once more griefed by his inability to change the outcome of things, Imeralus donned his father's name as his own, as another constant reminder of his inability to change the death of someone close to him. Though, not giving the newly named Aerimal much time to cope with his grief, the Scourge invaded Quel'Thalas. Arthas and his undead Scourge stormed through, destroying everything in their path, like a locust swarm. Every counter-strike the Elves tried to make was proven futile, leaving many of those whom Aerimal dubbed his closest friends dead. Rhymor Rh'gah, one of the kindest men Aerimal would ever meet in his life perished, along with his many hawkstriders that he bred. Once more griefed by his inability to change the outcome of a friend's death, he was driven into a rage, that wouldn't stop until he, and his people had proven victorious over the invasion. Though, to his disappointment, this never came true. The destruction of the Sunwell left him weaker, and feeling an empty void in his being, that would make him overall weaker, but not kill his determination for vengeance against the Prince.

Serving now with the son of King Anasterian, Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider, he did everything he was ordered to do, and tried to carry out everything to the very best of his ability. With the notice of Garithos' racism towards his people, Aerimal was outraged, though grudgingly did as his Prince did, and followed the orders. As the Naga had not only helped his people once, but now twice, Aerimal was begining to trust them more and more. With now his efforts focused on finding Illidan Stormrage, with the help of the Naga, he had lost sight of the man he once was, and had completely become a dog of House Sunstrider.

With the freeing of Illidan Stormrage from Maiev, Aerimal, and the Elves that joined Kael'thas were begining to feel the void in themselves fill, and grant them the strength they used to have flowing through their bodies. Still, Aerimal grudgingly accepted the fel magics into his system, even though it didn't quite feel the same as the previous pure magics that used to flow through his system. Venturing about the Outland now with his new leaders, he aided in fighting off the demons that came through rifts to aid Magtheridon, while Illidan sealed each rift.

The Race to the Frozen Throne
With Kil'jaeden's threat to Illidan, Aerimal, like the rest of Kael'thas' Blood Elves raced alongside Illidan, aiding him. While being met by the nerubians, Aerimal quickly found an outlet for all of his hatred, and exacted his vengeance against the servants of the human Prince. Aerimal fought until he couldn't move anylonger, and only then would he allow himself to rest, only to get back up as soon as he possibly could, and continue fighting again. Once again, Aerimal was met with a reminder of his own arrogance on the battlefield, as he was struck through his right eye with a blade, marking him permanately with a reminder of his failure.

Be Like Water
With the return to Outland, and the crushing defeat once again at the hand of the undead Scourge, Aerimal was driven into a rage, that would only soon be culled by the meeting of another servant of Kael'thas. The man was in his older years, and was long past his time to be able to fight phsyically, though, this did not stop him from imparting wisdom to Aerimal, to teach him to control his emotions, and use them to win his battles. The man taught him through many hours of training to control his fiery emotions, and to lock them up, leaving him a more fluid being, that wasn't filled with stress. With this new way of handling his battles, Aerimal was no longer burdened by arrogance, or blind fury. Battles became more clear to him, and proving himself to his commanders became easier.

Servant Until the End
Aerimal, having become a full-fledged servant to House Sunstrider was not going to abandon his Prince simply because his loyalties had left that of the now insane Illidan Stormrage. To Aerimal, Prince Kael'thas was all that remained of the true lineage of leadership to his people, and he couldn't find it in himself to join his bretheren who left to aid A'dal in bringing the death of Illidan,a nd the death of his own Prince. Countless times Aerimal clashed against his own bretheren, and with much grief tugging at his insides, he did his best to win what battles he could, and to kill what enemies he could.

The day that would forever remain a constant scar in the mind of Aerimal forever, was the day that he heard his Prince, Kael'thas, let out his "dying" words in the Tempest Keep. Now, with how Aerimal was, he simply dropped his weapons, and fell to his knees, completely shattered emotionally at the death of the one person he could put up on a pedestal, and refer to as the one who would lead him to victory.

The Scryers, and the Shattered Sun Offensive
Slowly, Aerimal made his way to the ruined Draenei temple known now as Shattrath City. He still sported his Sunfury Signet on his armor, but walked without purpose, and without any sort of drive. When making it to the city, he undid the sheaths at his side, and fell to his knees, begging to be taken to A'dal. When brought forth to the mighty Naaru, Aerimal did as the other Scryers had done before him, and begged for the ability to be forgiven for his acts. After renouncing his loyalties to the dead House Sunstrider, he was granted the ability to join the Scryers, though not completely accepted amongst his bretheren immediately.

As days passed, Aerimal floated through his days like a mindless zombie, repeating the same routines, and merely serving as a helping-hand to one of the blacksmiths of the Scryers, helping make more armor, and weapons for his people. It wasn't until he met a Demon Hunter by the name of Rathivis Faldorein, a deserter of Illidan's Illidari, that he decided to head out to the Sanctum of the Stars, and lend his blades in whatever way possible. From simply helping ready the supplies, to using his blades to slaughter Illidan's servants, he did as he was ordered by his new commanders. Quickly, he had earned his place amongst his bretheren again. Even though Aerimal never made it into the Black Temple itself, he did much. Though, his efforts wouldn't go down in history, like that of the random group of twenty-five adventurers, who with the aid of Akama and Maiev, slew Illidan Stormrage.

With the death of Illidan Stormrage, Aerimal was informed that Kael'thas had indeed made an appearance after his "death", and that recently in Quel'Thalas, he had his Felblood Elves steal the Naaru M'uru. Aerimal was unable to fathom that the man he had served for so long would do such a thing, and quickly put the notion out of his mind. Though, he was quickly proven wrong, though still refused to believe the man was Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider, even as he claimed to be. The way he saw it, the man was a Wretched who inhabited the body of the fallen Prince.

With the formation of the Shattered Sun Offensive, Aerimal did as he had done previously, and aided in any way he possibly could. From helping with the minor things, to fighting "Kael'thas Sunstrider's" servants, he did as much as possible. Once again, Aerimal did not find himself glory, like that of the group of twenty-five random adventurers did, with the banishment of Kil'jaeden. Finally feeling the radiance of the Sunwell return to him, his spirits were lifted, and his mind unburdened.

The Death of Aerimal Imeralus Withershult
With the return of the Sunwell, Aerimal decided it was a new chapter for Azeroth, and a new chapter in his own life. Having no point of staying on the Sunwell Isle, or returning to the ruined Outland, he returned to Quel'Thalas, aiding his bretheren's new allies in their skirmishes. As his service continued, he soon stumbled upon the Orc whom slaughtered his friend. The Orc recognized him, and he recognized the Orc. Neither knew how to react to the situation, but both found themselves defending each other in the cold valley of Alterac, instantly putting their past against each other, for their own lives were more important. Aerimal eventually befriended the Orc known as Vakri'gar Axebreaker, and he had decided that it was time for him to move on, or at least try to. Aerimal once more discarded a name that he called his own, and donned the name Rhymor Rh'gah, after his fallen friend. Even though he would still answer to the name, he found himself only grief, if he considered himself that.

Recent Events in the North
With the skirmishes proving unable to completely cull his need to serve the Horde, and his people, he quickly made his way to the tundras of Northrend, where he would try his hardest to prove not only to his people, but to himself these days that he was worth something in this life. From fighting in Naxxramas, to fighting in the very Icecrown Citadel itself, Rhymor did his job to the best of his ability, gaining many scars, and many painful memories. The only true friends that had stuck by him through the entire ordeal from start to finish were his hawkstrider, and his familiar. Though, as hard as Rhymor tried, he would never beat out the group of twenty-five random adventurers whom seemed to appear when all hope was lost, just to save the day, and vanish before they could be rewarded for their heroics.