|Character class||Warrior, Sister of steel|
|Affiliation||Gnomeregan, Ironforge, the Aldor|
|Position||Mercenary, Hand of A'dal|
|Location||Shattrath City, Ironforge, Dun Morogh (former home)|
Arrogant, rude and crude, Venryl is more than eager to demonstrate her ability to both out-think her opponents (as the racial stereotype plays out), but also to brawl her way out of situations just as well if not better than those considered of better physical stature. Raised more in the vicinity of dwarves than gnomes, she has taken on most of the mannerisms of the former... indisputable alcoholism included.
Circumstances arising both from Venryl's raising and career choice have lead her to become increasingly wary of the ambitions of the Alliance in relation to the Horde, and said circumstances have granted her the ability to distance herself from both. As a result, she finds it difficult to trust many people of such affiliations - but will gladly devote herself to those she can. For the most part however, Venryl acts more on a passive sense of justice than any actual affiliation - with the exception of the Naaru, which as she perceives as justice incarnate and serves with a fervor bordering on fanatical.
Early Life Edit
Venryl is surmised to be the heir of the Fixtature family, responsible largely for the construction and implementation of Gnomeregan's incredibly complicated lower-level ventilation systems. Due to its ultimate compromise in the process of containing the inevitable Trogg invasion, both the political climate amongst the surviving Gnome populace and the crushing loss of the vast majority of Gnomeregan's structural data and registries prevent the exact third-party identification of Venryl's prospective parents. 24 at the time, and one of the few security staff within Gnomeregan that would manage to escape, Venryl soon showed up on the doorstep of one of her family's associates in Ironforge - Hamin Stonegrin, one of many battered, bruised Dwarven veterans of the Second War. He was more than eager to temporarily take Venryl in while the chaos surrounding Gnomeregan's purging died down - until Venryl made it perfectly clear that she hadn't shown up out of her parents' concern for her safety but instead to wait out the storm and further prejudice that would arise from her family name being tied to the catastrophe in any way, shape or form. As it would turn out, she had maintained little contact with her biological family since coming of age and beginning to seek employment within Gnomeregan.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and while Hamin looked on Venryl's abandonment with disdain he eventually came to terms with her decision's justification. Venryl quickly found well-paying physical labor to keep herself busy around the bustling Great Forge. Through late-night talks over meads and stouts (with Venryl drinking her senior under the table more often than not) Venryl's complete lack of concern for the well-being of Gnomeregan itself became clearer. Venryl expressed little desire to learn or otherwise understand advancement in the fields of engineering and science in a society that gauged any degree of social success in life on those two factors. Halfway smashed, Venryl audibly wished for her days under the watch of dwarves to end with the world taking, quite literally, her natural strengths as a boon. Hamin, finding himself taking in Venryl as the dwarven daughter he never had, began to expose her to more and more of the culture and mythos surrounding the history of the dwarves. Together, as Hamin's father had done in his own childhood, he enabled her to digest the atmosphere of the museum of the Explorer's League, passed on his family's traditional forging techniques, and began to train the rapidly-strengthening Venryl in the combat arts of dwarven battle stances.
Up and Far, Far Away Edit
Any chances to demonstrate any of Hamin's lessons would be shortlived, as far as perceived by the general populace anyways. Frequent attempts to register within Ironforge's armed forces were followed by blatant rejections, even from partaking in initial physical examinations. Any efforts made by Venryl to put her strength to work for the nation were met with resistance - and the final successful attempt to apply with Ironforge's military resulted instead in a quick send-off to its engineering corps. Realizing there was little official employment that didn't end up being the target of racial prejudice or sent back into a dead-end service of Gnomeregan, Venryl was forced into low-rate, compromising mercenary work in order to build a reputation. A reputation did in fact come, slowly but surely - as every humiliatingly purposeless job left Venryl returning to Hamin's side to train with an infuriated resolve, Venryl was eventually called upon by an increasingly diverse portfolio of interests up to and including the royalty of Stormwind itself. Along with the similarly-minded adventurers and the guilds that backed them, Venryl was among those that exposed the true identity of Katrana Prestor, plunged into the depths of Blackrock Mountain to push back the planar incursion of Ragnaros, and battled the awakened Silithid and their Qiraji overlords across the southern wastes of Kalimdor.
Continuing the rise, Venryl be one of many that made up the first wave of those to travel through the reignited Dark Portal in pursuit of the demon-lord Kazzak along with the military aid of the Nethergarde and Stormwind infantries in an attempt to reconnect the still-surviving Honor Hold with the world it had selflessly severed itself from. Again both sides looked upon the mercenaries' intentions with some hesitation, along with (again) Venryl's questionable career choice as a professional soldier. While having gone from her restricting roots as an utter burden on Gnomish society to one of the mighty warriors of the Alliance that had served to defend the world on multiple fronts was nothing to scoff at, her service in the rebuilding of Honor Hold did little to dampen the stinging prejudice that enveloped her in any new environment.
Draenei emissaries would soon arrive from their western settlement at the Temple of Telhamat, however, themselves seeking assistance with matters of the land. While other Alliance adventurers in this world or any other would soon see the Draenei seep into their daily lives, as a hastily-drafted partnership had already been established with the race that had a sizable portion of its population stranded on Azeroth, Venryl was more than happy to request permission to leave Honor Hold behind and lend assistance to the native race of Draenor if it meant leaving the piercing eyes of her overseers. A contractual agreement was signed for Venryl to, again, be one of the first to develop relations in the name of the Alliance between the Draenor-based human faction and the Draenei of Hellfire Peninsula.
In Service of All Edit
Work came quickly and easily to Venryl under the watch of the Draenei, who bore few if any of the physical presumptions that she had endured in every other aspect of her previous life. Half out of sympathy, half out of revenge, Venryl would laugh as other emissaries of the Alliance shrugged off the intense physical and mental labors that arose from life on what remained of Draenor.
The days pressed on. As Venryl worked harder and harder to assist and maintain the scattered Draenei settlements that dotted Hellfire Peninsula and the Zangarmarsh, communications with Honor Hold grew more and more infrequent. Within months contact had outright ceased. A lump grew in Venryl's throat after realizing that while the long diplomatic mission had proven a success, she'd jettisoned the societal comforts of the Alliance of her own free will in the process. While strong bonds had developed between her and the indigenous population, long-term squatting in the wastelands of eastern Outland would prove to be nearly impossible. Under the suggestions of Telhamat's anchorites, Venryl accompanied a portion of the settlement's population in its pilgrimage to Shattrath City.
Having been completely left behind by the Alliance emissaries, those that had found their way to Shattrath had little to offer Venryl in terms of comfort and accommodations within the fortress city. No tour, no souvenirs, no welcome wagon awaited the caravan, which instead found itself settled in the shanty towns of the muddy, decrepit Lower City. Nonetheless, both her off-duty wandering and occasional courier duties would often take her to the higher tiers, and while the towering Naaru was a spectacle to those new to the world and a bore to everyone else, it was not the sight so much as its constant mental prodding that enthralled Venryl.
The light does not abandon its champions.
Venryl would go about her business haunted by those words, not even being able to recall when she had actually heard them - or, strangely, how they got in her head to begin with. Departing into the sea of lights swarming around Shattrath one night, again she mixed herself in with the crowds of Alliance and Horde heroes that clogged the upper pavilions of the city, and disappeared into the Bone Wastes of Terrokar bearing the colors of the Aldor - with not as much as a word to those that had spent the last several months with her. Word of her fellowship would eventually spread back to those that got her as far as Shattrath, and while they were disappointed with her abandonment, they were at the same time intrigued by the zealous service towards the Sha'tar exhibited by an offworlder.
Again Venryl would travel the lands, this time to cleanse the incursions of the Burning Legion from Draenor, as well as weaken and directly assault the strongholds of Illidan Stormrage's allies. Although absent from the attacks on the Black Temple as well as the main strike force into the Sunwell Plateau, Venryl gained many decorations for her service with the forces of the Shattered Sun. Her constant proximity to large quantities of the Light, in addition to the extreme physical and spiritual training associated with her seniority in the Aldor, helped to awaken abilities typically unheard of for gnomes - most prominently, the ability to harden her skin to a rock-like density.
The Present Edit
...In Service of One Edit
The campaign against the Burning Legion would rise and fall, ultimately coming to a hard-fought stalemate as Kil'jaeden was pushed back through a rift within Sunwell Plateau. Bit by bit, adventurers would begin to recede from Draenor as combat slowed down and eventually stopped entirely. Venryl remained, resigning herself to mundane patrols and exercises with the Aldor. Finally having a chance to experience Draenor itself without having to concern herself with demons hiding in every orifice of the terrain, Venryl managed to expand outwards in her service, including an (ultimately short-lived) enrollment with the Sha'tari Skyguard. Boredom was a small price to pay for tangible recognition for her services.
The light does not abandon its champions.
Venryl cringed, tossing the book she held to the side and swinging her legs off the bed. Venryl occupied a shack of her own in Lower City, choosing to keep what material wealth she'd accumulated during her adventures in the Outland close at hand. She stomped over to the door and threw it open, flinching as she watched it come right off its hinges and tumble down one of the rocky, ruinous inclines that supported most of Lower City's infrastructure. She glared upwards at the terrace above. A'dal's constant chatter grew increasingly redundant and migraine-inducing.
"Yes, I know the whole Light-not-abandoning deal." Venryl sighed to no one in particular.
Venryl was suddenly wracked by a crippling fatigue as faint images were broadcast to her. Crates lied in splinters and spilled grains were strewn throughout the roads of the city she remembered as Ironforge, seeming to spread pungent disease into the air with no interaction. A hulking frostwyrm dropped upon one of the many boats in the harbors of Stormwind, shredding one of its masts in half with a single blow. Venryl ground her palm into her forehead, more agitated by the mental intrusion itself than the morbid slideshow.
...champions are being abandoned.
Venryl brushed off a surge of nausea, ignoring the anguished cry of a man as he was suddenly flattened by a flying barrel, which exploded into another green cloud of death. "What are you trying to say here?"
I understand your animosity towards these peoples, but please listen to what I have to say. The Lich King, a spirit twisted by the magics of Kil'jaeden, has obtained a physical entity to manifest into. You have begun to see the chaos that he now visits unto Azeroth.
"Yes, and I can also see the Alliance and Horde still sucker-punching each other while he whittles both down." Venryl gestured to the row of Forsaken catapults sitting up on a nearby ridge as the green mist began to consume her vision. "I know what you're getting at here, you want a continued presence on Azeroth to mop up Kil'jaeden's mess. The Alliance and Horde can rot for all I care."
You do not seek another chance to prove yourself to them?
"You can dig around in my head all you want, by all means, go for it. But those are people in my life I've left behind long, long ago."
For several seconds there was an eerie silence in the air. Suddenly, the hallucinations vanished. Venryl bit her lip. Maybe she'd been a little too annoyed at the colossal being of Light for her own good.
A'dal's chimes rung out again, though this time in a deeper, sadder tone. ...I understand your animosity towards those who had wronged you in the past. I cannot force you to take on this responsibility, especially considering what you have done for Draenor in the past. Many others will be returning to Azeroth to aid in the battle against the Lich King, as many have friends or distant relatives that live upon those la-
"WHOA WHOA whoa whoa whoa," Venryl spat. "Where did I say I wasn't going to do this? I'm just not going to care who's in my way a lot of the time."
If retribution is the path you wish to take, then I must request that you seclude yourself from the affairs of the Alliance and Horde as much as possible. Seek the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade, for their causes are singular and united. They will provide you the professional companionship you desire.
Venryl's insides wretched as her eyes scanned the contents of the cramped chamber she called home. She would package up the things most important to her survival and march off into nowhere once more, feeling her allegiances rattle and churn as they were turned on their heads yet again.
Sole Survivor Edit
Venryl's exact location and affiliations today are unknown. Given the martial law of Stormwind all throughout the events unfolding in Northrend, as well as the divided offensive that saw many civilian fighters-to-be sneak onto the largely unsupervised icebreakers commissioned to Ironforge, it was difficult to discern whether or not Venryl had actually followed the call and sought passage to the northern continent. Eventually, however, complaints began to trickle in around the Wintergarde Keep of Dragonblight of a violent gnome that, while displaying an unstoppable fervor as far as crushing undead was concerned, displayed little to no respect for authority in the region - most distressingly, that of the 7th Legion.
Venryl had armed herself using what artifacts remained in the now-conquered Naxxramas and set out on a wanton spree of destruction, carving her way further north as only a handful of champions had actually managed to. Now once again an aimless mercenary wanderer, Venryl is frequently chastised by the Argent Crusade for her reckless and destructive tendencies, and now spends more time aiding the dark, unforgiving and often over-the-top operations of the Ebon Blade. Using them as an outlet for the frustration created by the world that still absolutely refuses to work together, Venryl has once again cut herself off from society as A'dal had predicted.
Still working every limb of hers to the bone in order to demolish each and every speck of undeath from Northrend, Venryl has disdainfully chosen 'the Lightforge' as the greatest position in her Gnomish life and declared such her new last name as per Gnomish mid-life naming tradition.