Sylvia Ashwood

Lady Sylvia Ashwood is a Paladin and Knight of the Silver Hand. She is currently serving as a Knight of The Citrine Eagle, and holds the title Viscount of Ashwood.

Appearance
Sylvia is crowned with a thick head of honey blonde hair long enough to dip just below her shoulders. With the exception of a few styled locks in the front, she wears her hair tied around back in a ponytail. She has a diamond-shaped face with brown eyes and fair skin, and every muscle in her face is expressive. Whether smiling, frowning, laughing, or sighing – there’s no such thing as a subtle gesture.

Arms & Armor
Sylvia's weapon of choice is a massive warhammer. The symbolic armament of a Paladin, it was given to her during the ceremony in which she was formally Knighted. The hulking steel hammerhead is held up by a reinforced oaken shaft wrapped in leather straps. The hammer bears the sigil of Lordaeron.

Since joining the Citrine Eagle, Sylvia has done away with her more traditional armor and blue cloths and replaced it with a suit not only more suited to the colder climates, but also bearing her new order's colors.

A dull orange cloak hangs from her neck and shoulders, large enough that she could wrap it around herself for warmth if need be. Her armor has taken on more of a bronze-gold tint compared to it's former plain steel look, and the Alteraci tabard rests atop her breastplate. Beneath the breastplate is a long chain coat that hangs down and around her legs. Beneath the chain coat her thighs and legs are still protected by tall plate boots and greaves, but after yet another near death experience during the Fall of Stromgarde, Sylvia has decided that one can never truly have too much armor.

Early Life
Sylvia was born in the year -1 L.C. to Cade and Marissa, two peasants from Stratholme. In the grand scheme of things (as well as the not-so-grand) neither person was particularly remarkable, except for perhaps in one respect; they were very poor. Sylvia lived in the slums of the city inside of a house hardly any bigger than a closet. Alongside her two parents, she shared this humble space with six siblings. She was the youngest of the bunch and always got the short end of the stick, so at a very young age Sylvia had to learn to survive on her own.

She gained a reputation; one that likened her more to a rat than a little girl. She would scamper through alleyways wearing mud-ridden rags and smelling nearly as badly as she looked. More than once she was even caught fishing through her neighbors pantries, and she'd be promptly chased out with brooms and sticks. The merchant square harbored no love for her either. A sight of the girl surely meant a juicy apple or citrus had gone missing and was never to be seen again. She really did work hard earn that reputation of hers.

At a young age Sylvia committed herself to the idea of becoming a Knight. Every Knight she had ever seen walked about in shining armor with a horse and a fat purse, and it didn’t seem so hard to do what they did. After all, all they did was wear that shining armor of theirs and get praised. Still, she hadn’t the faintest idea of where to start. An idea crossed her mind; make her way to the library, as someone had told her that their long distant cousin had a friend who told them that they became a Knight by following the teachings of a book! After several incidents of being chased out of the library (after defacing a book and being called a mud-ridden hooligan), she was granted a boon. A priestess of Alonsus Chapel took Sylvia under her wing.

She was tutored in the ways writing, reading and worship and attended every church service for several years until she could recite half of the sermons. At the age of twelve (11 L.C.), Sylvia walked out of a sermon and saw a Knight returning from a recent battlefield. She ran to this Knight, a man by the name of Sir Adams, and dropped to her knees before his horse. She looked at him with pleading eyes, reciting prayer after prayer in an effort to impress him. It did, and he took her to his home where she was cleaned up and where they conversed. Afterwards, he named the girl his squire. She was no longer on the path to becoming a mere Knight; Sylvia was now destined to become a Paladin.

Squire of the Second War
Sylvia became a squire almost immediately following the Alliance victory in the Second War. It was a dangerous time for someone so young to be out in the world; but this trial by fire forced her to learn quickly. She learned about martial combat with just about every weapon one can think of. She learned about hunting and herbs, and which were safe to eat while on the go. She learned about faith, and how important it can be when the night is darkest. She didn’t escape from these trials unscathed; Sir Adams fell early on in her career, and over the course of her squirehood she gained a new mentor three separate times (and not by choice). At age seventeen, she nearly needed a fourth.

It was an ominous night with an odd stillness in the air, but these sorts of things are always more obvious in retrospect. In the moment it was easy to miss the signs; easy to miss the lack of birds chirping and how oddly perfect it seemed for a campsite. Nevertheless, that’s where they made camp. It was a prison convoy transporting recently captured Orcs to the various internment camps spread throughout Lordaeron, one led by her mentor Sir Marcus Covingston. In recent years, many of the Orcs had lost their will to fight and this sort of work was getting more and more safe. A cursory watch was posted and the rest of the convoy went to sleep, Sylvia included.

When the screaming started, it almost seemed like a bad dream. Once the sound of bones snapping and crushed metal joined into the orchestra, the realization set in. The convoy was being raided by a band of Orcs and their Troll allies. Sylvia climbed from her tent with sword in hand and laid eyes on the carnage. The dead were everywhere, and Covingston was nowhere to be found. With her blade she ducked and dove through the battle doing what little she could against the hulking Orcs. Time was a blur, and the fighting seemed to drag on and on. She took hits, from being grazed by the Orcish axes to taking an arrow to the abdomen; but still she fought. The night passed, and the dawn of a new day came. Sylvia was alive, unlike many of her former companions. The grass was littered with bodies, be it Orc, Troll, or Human. As the sun rose, it glinted off the bloodied Sylvia’s blade. Her actions didn't go unnoticed, and a number of the corpses on the ground where felled by her hand. Some of the survivors took to calling her 'the Dawnblade' affectionately, and the name stuck.

Paladin of a Fallen Kingdom [[File:WC3RoC logo 16x32.png]]
On Sylvia's 18th birthday (17 L.C.), Sir Marcus Covingston sponsored her entry into the Order of the Silver Hand. A ceremony took place in Alonsus Chapel, where Sylvia was formally dubbed as 'Dame Sylvia the Dawnblade'. At this point, her name was written to the Annals of the Silver Hand; she was officially both a Knight and a part of the Order. For Sylvia, this was more than just a Knighting. Finally she had proof that she was more than just a street rat from the slums of Stratholme; instead she was a Knight of Lordaeron and a skilled warrior of the Holy Light, and nobody could dispute that.

In the years that followed, Sylvia served the Silver Hand in every capacity she could manage. She acted as a teacher, as a healer, as a diplomat and as a soldier. Chief amongst those tasks, however, was her role as Heavy Cavalry in the Alliance's cavalry brigades. During most of the reconstruction period she traveled across nearly every northern kingdom. With special attention paid to Strom and the nearby Dwarven lands of the Hinterlands and Khaz Modan, Sylvia and her cavalry unit spent most of its time chasing down hiding Orcs and breaking remaining any and all remaining Orcish holdouts.

In late 23 L.C. the first rumors of a deadly plague began to surface. Confined to the northernmost reaches of the Kingdom, very few in the nobility were overly concerned. Disease was nothing new in the human kingdoms and nobody could even prove the plague existed, much less it's rumored severity. To top things off, both the nobility and the Silver Hand was distracted by the new up and coming Orc Warchief and his aggressive movements. Sylvia was of the same mind as many of her peers; after all, no disease could possibly present as great a danger as a reformed Orcish Horde.

This made things all things all the more shocking when news of Arthas's struggle in Hearthglen reached the Silver Hand. Lord Uther acted quickly, sounding the alarm and near immediately setting off to reinforce the Prince. Sylvia was one of the riders who joined the Lightbringer's host, and she was among those who all but annihilated the Scourge force beneath a thundering cavalry charge. After the battle was over, she remained behind on orders to safeguard the province until royal troops could arrive to relieve her.

Viscount Ashwood [[File:WC3RoC logo 16x32.png]]
When news of The Culling of Stratholme came, Sylvia didn't waste a moment. She mounted a horse and rode to see the aftermath. She spent all of a day walking the burning city streets, but when night set she said her goodbyes. The Silver Hand had been disbanded, but she couldn't let that stand between her and her job. She traveled one town to the next, only to discover it had been annihilated by either the plague of the plague's victims. Occasionally should would luck out and find a small group or the remnants of a village who were still holding out, and she'd do all she could to help them; oftentimes that meant struggling to convince them to escape to the south.

It wasn't only peasants she encountered either. While on her path, she came across a chance encounter; an Earl and his family who were the sole survivors of a once bustling city. She treated them to a meal, offering up her limited and meager supplies to the desperate group, and she camped alongside them overnight. Come daybreak, the Earl approached her and asked her to escort them to the south. At first Sylvia politely refused them, claiming that there were other survivors who still needed her help, but the Earl quickly became desperate and wore her down. Sylvia agreed to help them escape, and despite several very close calls (including one where Sylvia herself was gravely injured), they managed to make the slow and arduous journey towards the Dwarven lands.

The Earl offered Sylvia more permanent lodgings in his Stormwind properties, which she refused. She told him she intended to go north once more, because that was her home. After he realized he was unlikely to convince her otherwise, named her Viscountess of Ashwood as "someone so dedicated to their home deserves a small part of it". The land was once a fairly prosperous agrarian community with three massive farms taking up the majority of the space, as well as a fifteen hundred strong village at its center and a relatively luxurious manor at the height of it all. Despite that it was only a short distance from Stratholme itself, and had already fallen victim to the ceaseless raids of the dead. When Sylvia returned to the Plaguelands, she took the time to visit Ashwood. She didn't stay long, it would be many years before that place could be inhabited again.

The New Alliance
As time went on, the Plaguelands became more and more dangerous. Where once one would often come across a barricaded village or convoy of civilians fleeing south there were now only ravaged villages and packs of ghouls. It wasn’t entirely barren, though; Hearthglen had escaped the onslaught of the Scourge and remained as a bastion of Paladin activity under Taelan Fordring. Sylvia made her way there, working alongside former comrades and other refugees to keep the place a living enclave in a land of death. With increasing frequency, travelers would come along with news about a “New Alliance” led by the Grand Marshal that was making its way north from the very southern reaches of Lordaeron. Sylvia still held out hopes that the dead could be driven and the land made clean again, and so she set out from Hearthglen to find Garithos and his armies.

She arrived in the camp of Lord Garithos just under two weeks prior to the reclamation of Dalaran. The army was capable, and it was showing promise. As far as Sylvia was concerned, morale was high and the chance of making headway into the heart of Lordaeron was not insignificant. When Dalaran was retaken, Sylvia no longer had any doubts. She left to defend the southern flank with the bulk of the army, and she fought with the genuine belief that this was to be the beginning of her Kingdom’s rebirth. Unfortunately for her, the Third War was a time where such beliefs came to die.

They were successful in fending off the Scourge counter attacks, and despite the treason and costly rebellion of the elves (now widely talked about amongst the ranks), the armies of the New Alliance had begun their march around the Lordamere Lake and to the Capital City. Things quickly started to fall apart when the news of Garithos’s pack began to spread. A splinter faction of the Undead had offered help in retaking the city, and somehow Garithos had agreed. Dissent spread quickly, and Sylvia was one of the louder ones. Along with a considerable portion of the army, Sylvia abandoned the Grand Marshall and refused to align with the Undead. Later, when returning to Hearthglen, she learned how wise her choice had actually been; Garithos had been betrayed, and the New Alliance had been wiped out overnight.

The Scarlet Crusade [[File:WoW Icon 16x16.png]]
At this time, Hearthglen was under the protection of Taelan Fordring. Over the next several months, the fortified town transformed into a bastion for the newly formed Scarlet Crusade. Though somewhat fanatical, the organization was led by Saidan Dathrohan, someone Sylvia greatly admired and respected, and she pledged herself to their cause.

As a veteran of the Silver Hand, Sylvia became one of their Knight-Lieutenants. She would often be found training newcomers in the virtues of the Light, and would occasionally lead small expeditions out into the Plaguelands where they would hunt small bastions of Scourge or Forsaken. Occasionally small holdouts of various races would be found, and those of the Horde would be treated as mercilessly as the were the dead. Despite this, as the years went on and the Crusade grew more fanatical Sylvia was outed as one of the more merciful Crusaders. While she would never object to any form of persecution or torture against those she saw as walking corpses, she would frequently let the living carry on their business with minimal hassle.

Things continued on like this for several years, and Sylvia turned a blind eye to the increasing fanaticism. This was the remnants of her Kingdom, the remnants of the Silver Hand. Anything that was being done was necessary. She kept her eyes turned, or at least tried to. At a certain point, Sylvia knew that effort was in vain. The Crusade had lost its way, and shortly after the fall of Naxxramas, she broke ties with the Scarlets and joined forces with the Argent Dawn at Light’s Hope Chapel.

The Argent Dawn [[File:Bc icon.gif]]
While considered one of the more lenient and moral-bound officers of the Scarlet Crusade, Sylvia often found herself in disagreement with many of the Argent Dawn’s members. She utterly refused to work alongside members of the Horde, and frequently criticized what she saw as carelessness amongst the members. Publicly the Dawn made sure to keep its members quiet about these sorts of things, but even then Sylvia was quite vocal to the point she was reprimanded several times. She felt openly that these new members of the Dawn would be its downfall because they’d be unwilling to do what needed to be done. This philosophy quickly brought her closer to one of the Dawn’s sub-factions, the Brotherhood of the Light.

She was never formally inducted into the Brotherhood, but where many of the Argent Dawn’s soldiers went to fight in Outland, she remained in the Plaguelands. She’d frequently be amongst the first to volunteer to bolster their forces on the more daring hit and run missions, and her experience as a cavalryman would come in handy when speed was required as much as prowess on the field. This routine filled her time during the invasion of Outland, and over the course of the year she managed to rack up quite the impressive number of cultist kills.

Light's Hope & The Crusade [[File:Wrath-Logo-Small-0.png]]
She could always tell when October arrived. The air may have been filled with a rotting musk by the blight, but the seasons still worked like clockwork. Come September the summer's heat and humidity would fade away, and by October you were left with a brisk chill that lasted up until the start of December. This year was no different there, but it did bring with it something unique. This year the weather brought a guest.

Every man and woman in Light's Hope could see the floating citadel. The necropolis Acherus had stationed itself in the mountains just a short distance to the northeast. The members of the Dawn had expected something like this for some time, a replacement for Naxxramas to be stationed above the ruined city of Stratholme. Their expectations where shattered within hours when the screams began to echo over the mountains just to the east, and not long after the plumes of smoke followed. Acherus hadn't arrived to be the Scourge's crown jewel of the Plaguelands as Naxxramas had been, it had arrived ready for war.

It wasn't a secret that the Argent Dawn wasn't really an army. They were effective guerrilla fighters, yes, but they didn't number enough to realistically be considered an army. The Scarlet Crusade on the other hand was numerous enough to hold that title, and despite that, Havenshire fell along with Tyr's Hand. The Scarlet Crusade and it's armies were all but pushed out of the Plaguelands, and that meant only one obstetrical to the region's total domination by the Scourge: Light's Hope Chapel.

With how hard Sylvia was working to hide her fears, you'd think she were the only one afraid. That certainly wasn't the case. In retrospect, every single person at the Chapel was afraid. Nobody can prove that of course, but when you're outnumbered 100 to 1 fear is all but a requirement.

When the horns sounded, there was no time to think about any of that. The ground shook with the stampede of the undead Hordes, and the Battle for Light's Hope Chapel had begun. The events of the battle are well known. What's often passed over though, is the terrible casualties the Argent Dawn suffered that day. Of the 300 defenders at the Chapel, nearly half met their end. Of those half, over twenty were friends of Sylvia's from the Brotherhood of the Light. Be it as it may, the Argent Crusade was formed by Tirion Fordring, and the time to march on Northrend was at hand.

The March on Icecrown [[File:Wrath-Logo-Small-0.png]]
Along with many in the Crusade, Sylvia's first steps in Northrend were in the Howling Fjord. The first weeks of the invasion were extremely defensive, but eventually that time came to an end. Sylvia was assigned to a small team of five who would be by her side for the majority of the War.

The first of the group was a Gilnean Hedge Knight named Grant Reid. Grant was one of the few who lived on the border of Gilneas when the wall was built. When they drew the line for it's construction, he found that his home was on the wrong side of the wall. The second of Sylvia's companions called herself  'Archmage' Anastasia. While not present, the group often debated whether or not the title of Archmage really applied. Anastasia never talked about her age but she was obviously young; in fact, she was far too young to have realistically been taught at Dalaran like she claimed. The third member of the group was another Paladin, one who Sylvia knew rather well. Lord Jacob Gnash was once a close friend of Sir Marcus Covingston, the same who sponsored Sylvia's initial entry into the Silver Hand. He was surprisingly spry for a man on the verge of entering his sixties, and he was also a very pious man. The final member of the small team was an Elven priestess named Syliea Amberheart (pronounced Sil-lee-ah). Not only was she the only non-human in the group, but she was a Blood Elf and formally a member of the Horde.

The group spent most of the early war fighting in against the Trolls in Zul'Drak, but also spent time prior to the events at the Wrathgate helping to defend Wintergarde Keep from the Dread Citadel Naxxramas. Sylvia and the usually quiet Syliea frequently found themselves in heated arguments which needed to be broken up by Jacob and Grant. Even when Sylvia put her prejudices aside, the two women had very strongly conflicting personalities. Any odd comment could put them at one another's throat, and there was enough free time for plenty of comments. Despite the recurring feud, the five of them made a good team.

For a short time Sylvia and Grant Reid were involved with one another romantically. The two considered trying for a life away from war after everything was done. It wasn't to be. Sylvia and her group were at the vanguard of the fighting when the Argent Crusade pushed through Crystalsong Forest and into Icecrown. They survived the initial fighting without being wounded only through a lifetime of luck.

While pushing up to the Citadel, Sylvia was hit hard with a blow from an axe. The sheer force shattered the bone of her left leg. Jacob Gnash went missing while protecting the group from a followup assault, and the remaining three did what they could to take her and fall back to the medical tent. On the way to the tent Syliea was stuck with a stray arrow, and Grant Reid stayed behind to help her. The last Sylvia heard of Anastasia was a brief goodbye while in the triage tent. Though the medical staff managed to just barely save the leg, Sylvia can still sometimes be caught walking with a limp. It healed badly.

Return to the South [[File:Cata-Logo-Small.png]]
Sylvia was loaded onto a ship along with a sea of other wounded people and taken to Stormwind. She later found out that both Grant Reid and Jacob Gnash had died and that their bodies had been recovered. Anastasia had survived, as had Syliea, but both had seemingly vanished without a trace. Of all the human cities, she had visited Stormwind the least. During her recovery, she purchased a small shack in Elwynn Forest. While recovering, she spent much of her time there in solitude. She dabbled in writing, maintained a garden, and even built a small shrine outside for worship. She often spent time wondering if her time as a Paladin really was over. While her spirit yearned to go back into the world, the pain in her leg constantly reminded her not to.

After nearly a year, Sylvia could finally move around without help. She started riding again, often travelling into the City herself rather than having someone else do it for her. She still had a strong limp when she walked, but she started stretching and doing light training again. Most of all though, she enjoyed her solitude. The shrine in her yard required her daily attention to keep it clean and shining, and she was able to spend her time thinking about her Faith.

When the Forsaken and the Alliance met in battle in Andorhal, Sylvia briefly broke her isolation. During the march to the north she became painfully aware her leg hadn't recovered well enough to fight. Every step was followed by a surge of pain, and so she relegated herself to the medical tent and lent her abilities to the healers and the wounded. When retreat was sounded, she set off back to her forest shack.

Sylvia opted not to enlist during the invasion of Pandaria. While she was now able to hide her limp, she'd become very used to her time away from battle. The pain was still there, and had she actually had any neighbors or friends who cared to ask her about it, she'd have used it as an excuse. She nearly did the same when the Iron Horde attacked, but having been born just before the First War and having grown up during the Second, she knew this wasn't something she could skip. She set off for the battlefield and served beneath the Grand Alliance banners once more, though only for a few weeks.

When the Dark Portal was destroyed, she wasn't among those who traveled through. She remained on Azeroth and once again returned to her forest shack. This time, though, she realized something; her leg hadn't gotten in the way this time. Yes, it still hurt a bit, but she was capable of fighting through it. And she started training, because her rest was over.

Orange Gems and Mountain Birds [[File:Warlords-Logo-Small.png]]
Had the conversation taken place at any other place, at a time even a few days earlier or a few days later, it's doubtful it would have gone the way it did. Even then it could gone much differently, as the circumstances were admittedly very strange. Fortunately the conversation took place at that exact moment in that exact place, and in exactly the way it was meant to.

Sylvia was sitting on the steps of Stormwind City's Cathedral of Light. A strange woman caught her attention; she was garbed head to toe in orange and had oddly short hair that was buzzed on the sides. She stared at her for a few moments, and inevitably the woman's olive eyes caught her own. For a few moments, Sylvia considered backing out and looking away. She never intended to spark a conversation, her leg was tired and she just wanted to rest. Then they started speaking. At first they only exchanged cursory comments, and then it happened. The conversation sparked with one of the strangest lines Sylvia had ever heard; 'Did you know the granite you're sitting on came from Alterac?'

That same woman offered Sylvia a chance to get back into the world and start making a difference. Her name was Zaria R. Blackmoore, Highlord of The Citrine Eagle. The Eagles were based in the mountains of Alterac, a place Sylvia never paid much mind to. If anything, she'd once held animosity after the betrayal during the Second War. At the same time if she were to get to start making a difference in Lordaeron again, there were very few places still controlled by Humans that far north. It didn't take long for her to make a decision, and that same day Sylvia mounted her horse once again and set off to the Alterac Mountains.

Through the The Citrine Eagle Sylvia found more than she bargained for. She fit in well, and over the course of a few months began to feel not only at home but also among family.

The Return of the Burning Legion [[File:Legion-Logo-Small-0.png]]
"tbd"

- tbd

Personality & Views
Sylvia is a woman constantly struggling to keep her passions in check. Always working for what she believes to be the betterment of the world, Sylvia is kind and outgoing even to complete strangers while giving those few who she calls friends fierce loyalty and devotion. Sylvia is frequently called stubborn and stuck in the past, but she tends to dismiss the claims no matter how true they ring.

Divisiveness
The unfamiliar has always been a source of deep mistrust for Sylvia. The further from Human someone is, the more quickly they'll find resistance from Sylvia. Elves, Draenei, and Worgen will find little of Sylvia's typical outgoing and vibrant personality. The races of the Horde even less so, with Sylvia holding an unwavering hatred of the Orcs and all things Undead. These hatreds extend to those who practice Fel and Shadow magics, including Warlocks, Death Knights, and Demon Hunters. Mages will often find themselves to be victims of extra scrutiny by the woman, as the stories of Medivh and Kel'Thuzad have convinced her that mages are especially likely to play with the darker powers.

Recent calls for unity in the face of the Burning Legion have found Sylvia as a staunch opponent. She cites the Broken Shore as proof that the moment the Grand Alliance turns their gaze from the Horde, they'll find a dagger wedged firmly in their back.

Religious Views
As a woman forged in the days of a more divided and less structured Church, Sylvia has long found the reformed Church of the Holy Light's rigid structure to be contrary to the nature of Light. While she still supports the organization, she prefers to conduct her own private practice with which she feels far more connected to the Light than otherwise. Her views of the Church do nothing to numb the importance of the Three Virtues in her eyes, and she does her best to model herself after them.