Arthur Mendenhale

Arthur Mendenhale, a young man from Redridge. He was born to a Redridge family of three, his father Brom Mendenhale, his mother Katrina, and his sister Soren. They lived a simple life, after his father retired from the military post third war, his mother a nurse that now worked in the small village of Lakeshire.

No one expected him to become much. He was going to prove them wrong.

=Description=

(Describe your character here. What they look like, how they dress, and any features or scars that would be significant.)

Armor
Arthur, prior to this month owned nothing but cheap linen clothing, and a shoddy buckler. However, a certain Lord Alexander Amsel became responsible for the youthful gentleman procuring a fine set of Steel Plate Armor, which while nothing special, remained something that would protect him from countless blows. After receiving damage in several incidents, Arthur had the armor reforged, however adding a new material into the alloy. He got this material not from a vein of ore, no, but the chest of a Nerubian Cryptlord he with the help of his fellows slew in Defense of Cresthaven. This chitinous plate of iridescent nature was melted, created a alloy even stronger than steel. Now, many strikes meant to pierce would simply slide away, a gift of the insectoid coating.

The plate now shone in the sunlight, a beautiful sight to behold for the people, whilst demoralizing enemies in the armors simple radiance. The chitins iridescence now bound to the plate, it warped in color in different lighting.

Arms
Arthur carried with him a blade with history. A blade that had experienced the third war, and a blade that was a sign of his families longlasting protection of their home, Lakeshire, and that of the Alliance as a whole. It was a finely constructed blade, the edge of which was truesteel, yet... The center was a normal swords alloy. This made for a weapon as efficient as it was deadly, with an edge that when honed, lasted for many days. The hilt was elegant, yet simple, a ring covering where the knuckles curled around, with a simple straight hilt. Moving downward, the handle was full tang, making the blade more stable, and less prone to the slow deterioration that many swords fell prey to. The full tang was encased in a worn hilt of mahogany, wrapped in a leather that was as durable as it was unique. It seemed to be scale, and Arthur's grandfather had always said it was the skin of a drake whelp.

In its pommel, was a reminder of Arthur's family, and a sentimental mark of home. It was a river jade, taken from Lake Everstill. This, altogether, gave him a tool to defend, and to harm. To protect, and to care for those he had become close to.

=History=

A young man growing up in the mountains of Redridge, Arthur had a simple upbringing. One far away from wars, rarely affected directly by them. Of course, this was apart from the occasional pestering by the gnolls or orcish tribes that had taken a residency in the hills. He lived here for seventeen years, never leaving the fair woodlands for even a second. Mastering the trades of farming and blacksmithing, he soon became bored, wanting to protect those around him. And so, he enlisted with the Lakeshire guard. This led to a formal training in arms and armor, and whilst less educational than that gleaned from a nobleman, Arthur with the body gained from farming and blacksmithing, soon became quite the talented young bladesman. But that wasn't enough, and soon... Destiny took him to Stormwind. Here, he slowly offered himself as a service to the people, a selfless blade in the times of cruel noblemen and rampant crime. Someone to protect, and give shelter to those who couldn't themselves. It was in the fair city of Stormwind, that he acquired his second family in the form of the Embershield Protectorate, people that while new to him, were already dear to his heart.

Youth
Arthurs youth, while peaceful... Had its tragedies. Growing up so near Orcish Encampments, he eventually befriended an orcish girl by the name of Torinah. This young girl became one of his closest friends, and one he was forbidden to have. He taught her common in the distant mountains, and he taught him orcish. Soon, the two conversed, becoming close as two youthful souls could. Years went by, the relationship blooming into a beautiful friendship, and upon occasion, even more. Though, they knew with the way life went, they could never truly be together. Life, decided to solidify this. On a midsummer day, Arthur and Torinah now crept into the hills, starting a fire. They laughed and they told stories of their families to one another, a remarkable similarity between the two. They listened to the sounds of birds singing, their own voices soon joining. It would be a fatal mistake. The ground shook, the small teepee they had built collapsing around them in a clattering of wood against wood. The two now fearful youths stared at one another for a moment. They knew what had caused it, and as the steps came closer, they had no time. Shoving Torinah out of the tent, Arthur soon followed. The ground already unstable made the legs of both seem even moreso, sturdy knees turning to babbling brook, bending to and fro with the vibrations of Azeroth and the deep seated fear they were gripped by. They broke into a run, but not before they saw it. And it saw them. A lumbering Ettin, holding a bloodied and gnarled tree that it had used as a weapon, presumably clearing its path through the gnollish camps and assemblies with hasty swings. Though... If they saw it, it too, saw them. They broke into a run, branches snapping, leaves kicking up as though it were a pair of wild horses sprinting through. It was Autumn, thus the show of colored leaves flying may have been considered pretty, if not for the extreme situation the hand of fate had forced. It began gaining on Arthur, Torinah's orcish legs keeping her further ahead of the young man. She took notice, swerving backward and to the right in an attempt to draw the thing away from him. It succeeded! "Torinah, no!" Arthur screamed, voice hoarse and fearful as he ran. He knew he couldn't stop, and saw the distant burgundy rooftops of his hometown on the horizon. He was close, and ran like a lynx, feet moving him faster than they had ever. Just on the border of the town where they normally parted, Arthur ceased movement, silver eyes darting rapidly in a search for his friend. She didn't come. The vibrations in the ground had stopped, as well. He smiled faintly, knowing she got away, knowing in his heart of hearts that his dear friend was likely now safe. And then he heard the faint sound. A sound so faint he may not have heard it, if not for its familiar nature. A scream. A scream blood curdling and terrible. So did his cruel uncle, who now came marching up the hill. Arthurs uncle on that day beat him until hardly a whisper was able to come from his lips.

Reputation
Arthur, being raised in a small town and a smaller province of Elwynn, was rather well known in Lakeshire! He had a distinct reputation as a helpful individual, who did tasks large and small for little to no reward in a mark of true selflessness. He spent much of his time working as a blacksmith, servicing those from farmers needing nails, or even a knight in need of a true striking blade!

He gave aid to everyone and anyone, in fact. Whether it be the lowliest peasant or even certain nobles, namely a Gwyn Tarendigg who lived across a valley from him, near Stonewatch Keep.

As such, if your character is from Redridge, they've likely heard of the kind silver eyed youth!

Embershield Protectorate.
Coming to Stormwind after seventeen long years of hard work and toil in the Redridge Mountains, Arthur found himself finding interest in many of the war heroes he spotted on Stormwinds streets. He came to Stormwind with the purpose of raising money to ease his fathers descent to death as his main reason, but his second reason was a calling, a purpose he found himself having for all of his life. He wished to protect, he wished to mediate, and he wished to keep the thin peace that veiled the world. The Embershield Protectorate not only offered a second family to the young man, but the ability to protect. The ability to serve. He was content with them, as an aspirant of their knightly order, and he would remain so until the end of his days, or theirs.

(Title)
(If your character has a title or honorific, you could tell how they earned it!)

Beliefs
Arthur is a strange lad, and his beliefs are stranger yet. He doesn't understand how anyone can adhere to a singular belief, in a land where so many have been proven to exist. Whether it be the religion of inner peace held by the monks, or the Zealous Paladins, praying each and every morning in order to preserve their gift of the light.

Arthur, simply holds all of these, wishing to understand everything around him.

Quirks
Arthur holding strange beliefs is no surprise, thus it's also no surprise he had his quirks! A few facts about him down below. He's a pacifist at heart, to the point that it might one day be the end of him. In combat, he applies swift and efficient techniques to deadly effect, yet avoids using tactics that would be the end of his opponent, prefering to disable and wound rather than kill. The young man despite being friendly and selfless, is very awkward with any sort of affection and with the opposite sex. While this could be seen as normal with a gentleman of his youthful age, it comes a surprise caused by his general facial attractiveness. His words seldom match his smile.

Relationships
There are few to Arthur who are dear, but it is here they shall be detailed. Lord Alexander Amsel was the first man in Stormwind to so much as give Arthur the time of day, and in fact, gave him much more than that. A small bag of coin, that was filled with enough to buy him the plate armor he wears until this very day, mentorship, and a place in his family of the Embershield Protectorate. Arthur considers him a father figure.

Aphnesara Whitebriar was the first woman in Stormwind that Arthur could speak to in coherent sentences! Jokes aside, she has helped him much, in the sense of his social ability and general demeanor. Slowly, yet surely, she has coaxed him out of his shell so that he is now in social situations functional, if not a bit nervous. Arthur considers her dear to him, as a sister, more than anything.