User Profile

Name:Vashj
Age:11,260...give or take a few decades...
Gender:Female
Appearance: As a naga, Vashj's height depends on just how high she on her tail she feels like raising herself – but 5'8” or so is fairly comfortable. She has a fairly light build and pale blue-green skin. Her eyes are a pale violet and 8 black serpents server as “hair”. Her six arms are covered in bangles and armbands, made of gold and coral – tho a few seem to be missing now; also missing is her golden armor, leaving her with only a red brocade top that ties at her neck and below her shoulders. A simple lavender sarong is tied around her waist – more out of modesty and habit than actual necessity, tho it does hold a few small pockets.
Personality: Although she acts very cold and haughty, Vashj is also very naïve in many ways. She may be cunning in battle and manipulation, but all other forms of interaction are foreign to her. To conceal this, she is apt to hang back and observe those around her – mostly, of course, so that she can learn just how to manipulate them later. Though it is entirely possible to gain her trust and friendship – or something akin to it – it's not an easy task, and, keep in mind, she may be playing you. To this day, she only counts a single person as a “friend” and that is only because of a deep connection brought on by millennium of suffering – something mortals would never understand.
Preference (Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual): Hetero
Fandom:Warcraft
OU or AU: OU
History: If you were to ask Vashj what her life was like before she arrived at Zin'Azshari, she would tell you rather matter-of-factly that she doesn't remember. She was brought to the palace at the extremely young age of 70 after she attracted the interest of the Moon Guard and the Shendra'lar – the elite sorcerers of Queen Azshara. However, the Queen herself soon took interest in the young girl and made her a personal handmaiden. Vashj was raised in a twisted web of deceit, manipulation, and head games, and taught that the easiest way to get something you wanted was to use others. By the time she had reached adulthood, she was an expert at the craft, and had become the Queen's favorite – a position she was determined to keep at any cost, even if it were to mean “disposing” of any threats.
A thousand years later, when the voices from the great well called out to her Queen, Vashj was content to keep her misgivings to herself and follow her idol blindly. It was during this time she met the upstart little priestess Tyra-whatever and the strangely intriguing Illidan. Her encounter with the talented low-born boy was brief, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he would have some great effect on her. When he offered his services to the Dark One and her Queen, receiving the gift of “true” sight at the cost of having his original eyes burned out, Vahsj felt another strange wave of misgivings as she watched from behind a pillar, but pushed them aside quickly, having been called upon by her Queen to care for the boy until he awoke. She would later regret sending someone to inform her Queen of his awakening, as it robbed her of the chance to really talk to him.
Call it blind loyalty, call it shell shock, but when the world came crashing down around her and the frigid black water from the destroyed well flooded the palace, Vashj calmly accepted her Queen's affirmation that things would be alright. When she realized that despite being engulfed by the sea, she hadn't drowned, Vashj couldn't help but wonder exactly just what her Queen's idea of “alright” was.
It was another ten thousand years of head games before a familiar voice called her out of her misery. Illidan, freshly exiled for some reason he refused to speak of, transformed into a demon (another thing he wouldn't speak of), Vashj volunteered to follow him – for her Queen of course. At that time, she had no idea just how close the shared experience of 10,000 years of darkness would bring them, or just where the demon was going to lead her. It was simply an excuse to “scout” the surface world, which in turn was an excuse to get away from the ocean floor for awhile. She would rather her journey not have taken her to Icecrown, where it took a young Blood Mage named Kael to keep her from slipping into torpor; where Illidan nearly died. She would also rather not have ended up on a desolate world with terrifyingly mutated creatures and nearly no water. For a short time, she grew even closer to Illidan, but before she could sort out just what the feelings she felt where, he fell ill, becoming a different person once he recovered. As Illidan slipped into madness and Kael grew increasingly distant, Vashj resigned herself to build a home of sorts for those of her kind that had followed her there. She sent letters to Illidan, and then to the sage Akama and even to Kael when the demon would no longer respond. They both told her he was irrefutably and irreversibly mad and no longer recognized friend from foe. Mere months before mercenaries stormed the Reservoir, Kael informed her that he was severing ties. She wondered what he had meant by that right up until her door was broken down and an arrow pierced her shoulder. As the final blow came – ironically from one of the creatures she had once been – she closed her eyes and fell back into the pool, mind still racing about the past and the future.

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