Asuryan Caernough

Asuryån Caernough, born as Asuryån Kurnous is a soldier and statesman in service to Madelynne Albrecht, claimant to the throne of Lordaeron. Prior to his appointment as Her Majesty's Chancellor, Asuryan commanded The Silver Company, a grouping of mercenary soldiers united in personal loyalty to Asuryan's cousin, the famed Eldanesh Kurnous. Asuryån is the last known surviving member of the defunct House of Kurnous, themselves an off-shoot of a bastard borne of Helmuth Albrecht.

A conniving politican and shrewd soldier, Asuryån saw action in the final battles of the War in the Frozen North, and commanded The Silver Company alongside the Brotherhood of the Flame during then-Viscountess Albrecht's first push into Hillsbrad and Silverpine. The Company was annihilated by Forsaken forces at the Fall of Purgation Isle whilst screening the Flame's advance north into Lordaeron proper. Following Viscountess Albrecht's return south from Lordaeron, and her claiming of the fallen throne, Asuryån served as her ambassador and envoy, before finally being appointed Lord High Chancellor. For his gallant command of the assault on the Undercity's Apothecarium during the First Grand Crusade, and resolute service in the Grand Alliance's combined efforts to defend Theramore from Horde aggression, he was created Lord Kurnous of Corin's Crossing, the same title awarded his cousin by the lords of the Scarlet Crusade. Later, whilst commanding royal forces during The Dread War he was taken prisoner by Rance Creed after the Battle of Thorn's Hill and subjected to torture by Quinton Ridgewell, resulting in the loss of both his eyes before being rescued in the aftermath of the Battle of Dawnholde. The aftermath of the Dread Rebellion saw him formally renounce the name Kurnous, surrendering all claims upon Corin's Crossing and instead being rewarded by Queen Madelynne with the suddenly-leaderless fief of Dreadholme.

Though a loyal servant to Queen Madelynne's cause, and a die-hard Lordaeronian revanchist, Asuryån's martial deeds and zealous desire to see Lordaeron freed often find him comparing his accomplishments unfavorably against those of his far more lauded and puissant cousin Eldanesh. This struggle to see his purpose as something of his own and not just another legacy of The Conqueror often subsume him in bouts of anger and melancholy, which only add rigor to a constant struggle against the temptations of fel magic.

Early Life
Asuryan was born nine years after the opening of the Dark Portal, the first and only offspring of Rhys and Phaedra Kurnous. The family owned a small farm outside of Andorhal and lived a comfortable, if not prosperous existence. At the age of six Asuryan became first acquainted with his first cousin Eldanesh Kurnous at a family gathering in Stratholme. In the spring of the same year, both Phaedra and Rhys were stricken with typhoid and soon passed away. Though his relatives were sympathetic to Asuryan's plight, the Kurnous lineage was a base one and none of his extended family could afford to raise another child. Asuryan was this sent to Stratholme to be reared in an orphanage.

Growing up in an urban orphanage was hardly ideal for a wide-eyed youth of only seven years. The orphanage establishment was ill-supported by the city government and Asuryan often lacked for food and simple comforts. He was frequently bullied by his peers for his bookish nature and as he grew older turned to petty crime in Stratholme's high streets, developing rudimentary skills as both a pickpocket and picklock. At age ten he was apprenticed to a local alchemist and began to learn the basics of mixology and chemical compounds.

An otherwise dreary existence was lent some hope when Asuryan was aged eleven. Eldanesh, newly anointed a novice of the Silver Hand, visited upon his cousin. Sent to Stratholme by the order to retrieve several tomes from the Grand Cathedral and see them back to Tyr's Hand, Eldanesh doted upon his little cousin and spent several days spoiling him with treats, toys, and grand and fantastic tales of the glories of the Silver Hand. When it was time to depart, Eldanesh promised Asuryan that when the time came and he was old enough, a recommendation would be secured to see to his own induction into the order.

Invigorated by the glittering hope of a better lot, Asuryan devoted himself to his apprenticeship and made good progress in mastering the intricacies of medicinal potions and understanding the properties of various herbs. Eldanesh's tacit sponsorship also saw his life grow more comfortable, as several friendly priests and paladins often called upon the shop of his master in order to secure their alchemical needs. There, they would slip him a coin or two or spirit him down the street to a local baker to enjoy a sweet roll.

This promising rise was abruptly ended at the advent of the Third War. Rumors of coming conflict began to circulate the city, and a strange malady swept through Stratholme's streets. Refugees from the countryside packed into the city, repeating tales of terrible monsters bourne from foul magics. Not a week later Prince Arthas Menethil arrived outside the city with a royal army, much to the relief of Stratholme's citizenry.

But there was to be no respite from the prince. Knowing of the brewing plague within Stratholme, and that the city would soon be but a massive incubator for the scourge blight, Arthas elected to put all Stratholme to the torch. Asuryan cowered in his orphanage as screams and shouts echoed through the burning streets and was saved from certain death only by the abrupt arrival of a strange elven woman. Allowing no time for explanations, she stormed into the orphanage, ignoring the pleas and cries of its staff and the other orphans, and spirited Asuryan out of the city and to safety. This woman was Lileath Brightspire, a magistrix of Quel'Thelas; more than that, as she soon revealed, she was mother to Rhys Kurnous and thus Asuryan's grandmother.

As she carried him from the burning city Asuryan struggled in her arms, his eyes wide as they crested a rise and he beheld the fires that swept through Stratholme, embers rising atop great pillars of black smoke that smote out the sun. "Dry your eyes, little one," she told him, "For as their story ends, yours is just beginning."