Istlyna

Istlyna (born Mary Rae Calvin) is a Worgen Knight of the Ebon Blade of Silverpine descent. She has been a part of the Ebon Blade since their splinter from the Scourge, and has personally sworn loyalty to the Ebon Blade. She has taken the Frost school of learning when it came to training, and applies it well in combat. Due to the lack of demand for fighters, Istlyna has largely retired, at times being an advisor to the increasingly irrelevant Ebon Blade.

She currently resides in Stormwind City as a "military advisor" for the Stormwind Army, though it was largely provided as a cover from the 7 as a quid pro quo from prior services given to them. She currently spends the vast majority of her time in her apartment, amassing a collection of books and tomes of no particular value.

History
(A large amount of the history will take place as a story, and shouldn't be taken at face value. As in, Istlyna is an unreliable narrator for the most part.)

Prelude
''"Not everyday I get to talk to a Death Knight!" The overtly jolly, blonde-haired therapist said, putting on her tinted glasses as she prepared her papers. She was the classic therapist type. A skirt, button-up, heels, and a white smile. All while not seeming filthy in the slightest, though her shirt was one button away from being seducing to most males.''

''Istlyna, however, was not amused. She was dressed in her typical, Saronite armor that always gave off a natural feeling of uneasiness. An uneasiness that, sadly, didn't wear on the therapist. Glowing blue eyes, as cold as ice some might say... Anyways. "Not everyday I let people poke around my head," She spoke in the growly voice, common of race with the slight echo of her background. "And the ones that do don't last long."''

''"Well, I've dealt with worse!" Somehow, Istlyna doubted that. And she was still being cheery about it. ''

''"Let's get this over with." The Death Knight said, leaning back some on that stereotypical bed that all therapists seem to have. In turn, the woman dipped her pen in some ink and started to write. "Let's start from the beginning..." ''

''Istlyna peers over, "Which one?" She asked plainly. The shrink thought for a moment or three before realizing. "Oh. OH! The very beginning..."''

They stared at each other for a moment before the Death Knight started to speak...

The Beginning
Well, I was born in Southern Silverpine, I know that much. Before that giant wall was put into place. My parents were farmers, their land tucked up right against the town. Pyrewood, yes. My father was this ugly, ugly son of a bitch. Boils on his face, or scars from the boils, or something. I have no idea how my mother stayed with him. I don't remember much of my mother, though. I think she was a noblewoman from a house gone south. Not literally, though. They just tried to sell her off because they needed money. How my father got the money to buy her is something I want to know.

When I was young, people called me Mary. I mean... I guess if people called me Mary, that was my name. I forget my last name or whatever it was. Never came back to me. Wasn't important, I guess. Sometimes, I'd go into town and play around with the kids, because I... Think I didn't have siblings? I'd hope not, anyways. I imagine my mother couldn't take more than one kid with an ugly face.

''"You seemed to be pretty focused on your father." She mentioned, to which Istlyna merely quipped back, "And if you saw his face, you wouldn't forget it either. Now let me finish..."''

Since you don't want me to talk about my father, I'll talk about something else. A tutor named Hendorson. I mean, I don't think his actual name was that, but that guy taught me all sorts of stuff. Reading, numbers... And reading. He was a nice guy, died though. Not sure when, but it was before the whole... Arugal thing. I think he was older than most anyways? He's someone that pops up in my head a lot. Also a few kids here and there, which I think were my friends. Growing up, those faces grow older as well, and this one particular face keeps popping up as well...

She had red hair, blue hairs, always kept it long and somewhat dirty, like she worked on a farm or a mill all day. Though she has nice, to me anyways. I don't know why, either. I don't remember doing anything with her, or to her. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm certain about the face that she had the raggiest clothing too. Maybe she was an orphan or something, though you'd expect orphans not to grow up with you. I don't know...

"Think she was someone important to you? A best friend? A sister, maybe?"

She wasn't my sister, and she... Doesn't feel like a friend to me. I'll have to think on it more.

"Well, what else can you tell me about your childhood past?"

Shit, I don't know much else... I wasn't abused, raped, slapped, bullied. Pretty tough kid, or I'm good at overcoming things I guess. My father paid for an education, my mother made the food, and I had friends and a mentor to count on. What's is there not to have? I wasn't rich or anything, but I wasn't running around naked. I think.

''The ditzy blonde-haired excuse for a therapist makes a note or two before speaking. "You seem pretty uncertain about a lot of things. Saying I guess or I think a lot."''

When you're brought back to life, you'll know much truly stays intact. It is going to be a theme.

''She giggles. "Let's continue this another day, I have everything I need for now..." ''