Name: Justicar Xada A'oros
Age: Young, Aprox. Mid 20's H/Y
Motto: "There will be pain, do not cringe. Your fear is their joy, and their joy is your pain."
At first encounter, any magic users able to sense auras would find a primal one about this woman. Very natural, but wild. Calm, but powerful, like a storm waiting to be unleashed, but sitting calmly out at sea.. Traces of all elemental forces buzz about her in the other planes. But most of the time, all her energy lays dormant so as to allow others around her peace of mind.
Xada is a very exotic woman, to say the least. Her face is unique, slim, graceful but just subtley less round than others of her race. Almost boney, but not quite to that extreme. Her eyes are a shining white and gleam with emotion more often than not, and her nose is the only gentle curve to be seen in the area, pointing out ever so slightly. Her lips are thin, but dark, and mark her face with a stark contrast that suits her quite well. Her horns grace backwards with a windy curve that is very natural but well-kept and clean. Her hair is usually worn in one of three styles: a pulled back pony-tail that blows in the wind. cut short in a bob around her eyes, or long and wavey, with one side pushed behind her ear more often than not.
Her body is also almost average, but more on the slim side than most. She is youthful and abundant in curves, and very little battle scars can be seen save for the one under her left eye that looks simply like a small one-inch cut that was poorly stiched. It remains but a shade darker and only slightly imprinted. There is also medium-length, thin gash-like wound along her back of her right leg, but it could not be seen by most.
Detail-wise, she usually can be seen wearing jewelry akin to her current attire. Whether that be dark black metal with light blue storm gems, wild leather bands with shining green cuts of the forest, or golden-orange sleek bangles with a deep coral-amber necklace, she is always well dressed for the occasion, ready to ride in to battle or ride into a bar in any outfit. She also is the owner of a few very small tattoos. The first, a small word on her left wrist. It is written in graceful font, but what it says cannot usually be made out without closer glance. There is also a mark of the Exodar on the back of her neck, about the size of a dwarven fist or a small rock. Either way, it covers most of the skin in that area, and pridefully so. Lastly, there is a small, detailed, shamanistic rune on her left hoof. Again, it could only be seen if approached up close, and you're probably not wise being that close to her foot. Very unsafe, enjoyment 2/10, would not reccomend for a mark would be left upon your face and hopefully, in your memory.
Chaotic-Good; Putting the charge in Electrical Charge
he-ro [heer-oh] Noun, plural he•roes; for 5 also he•ros.
Someone who helps without anything expected in return. Their gesture may be big or small, profound or not, it doesn't make him or her any less of a hero.
"The Legion couldn't stop me! What chance do you have!?" -Justicar Xada A'oros, engaged in combat with two Horde adversaries upon the fields of Warsong Gulch.
“Turn! Turn and kill these rancorous hounds, meet the gnashing teeth of their tides with fury and thunder! Turn and bring down the might of the Alliance upon them!” -Field Marshal Xada A’oros, commanding her forces within the Molten Quarry of Ashran moments after being ambushed.
Xada's memory begins with the gruesome death of her mother before her very eyes, in the siege of Karabor. She was herded from the chaos by a kind stranger, whose name she does not now recall. As she witnessed the orcs close in around her motionless mother, she struggled against the grasp of this man, clawing helplessly at his grip as the last glimpse of her only remaining parent was brought to an end with a horrific scream. Since that day, she's been determined to exact revenge against the orcs, despite all calls for forgiveness by priests or warnings of peril by warriors of her kind, she would hear none of it. She joined her brother on the Exodar as it left their world in search of safety from the demons, but the ember of bloodthirst that built a pyre upon which to burn within her was not extinguished by their departure from Draenor.
After the crash of the Exodar, she awoke shakily to find her brother who's name she'd forgotten lying next to her, in a place she'd never seen before. The trees loomed around them, caging them with a sense of uncertainty and fear. The Draenei man who found them in the wilds of Azuremyst assigned to him the name Daxa, paladin counterpart of Xada, the young, confused, and disconnected draenic warrior. Her mind and heart were racing at all times for the first few days, nights dragging on into long hours of staring into the endless woods with a menagerie of questions buzzing in her mind. Her brother, very in-tune with the light, had always told her the Light abandoned none.
However, she felt no connection to it. She could not speak with it, feel it, sense it, nor think about it without a sense of dishonorable shame filling her heart. Anxiety and fear loomed over her and they trekked wearily through the interminable woods, but she was wrenched forth from her exhausted stupor when a scouting party of Blood Elves, far from their base camp in Bloodmyst, stumbled upon the trio. Xada and Daxa, brave as could be, picked up the scavenged arms that their guide provided them and were able to fight off the attack, but the man who saved them could not be repaid. An arrow straight to his heart, he lie crippled and gasping behind their bastion of defense. He sputtered his last words through the call of the grave directing them to the Exodar and heralding a bright future for them both. After their mourning, and a brief ceremony putting their savior to rest, they made rapidly for their destination, aspiration and vengeance in their hearts.
After settling in at the wreckage, Xada began to accept her role as a form of an outcast. The Priests and Paladins no longer saluted her; people often whispered behind her back of her brother's great achievements on the fields of battle while she remained anonymous, a simple shield-bearer of their race. However, these rumors reached the ears of the elementalist teachers of the Broken, who meditated idly in their quarters of the Exodar. This is where her path began.
Years later, the powerful elementalist of the Alliance, Xada A’oros, roams the lands of Azeroth bringing honor to the Draenei, the Alliance, and her family. Her quest for redemption fulfilled after many of her people came to accept the elements' role in their society, she now seeks to prove her worth to her fellow soldiers, to her still-skeptical former warrior trainer and father-figure, and more importantly, to herself. She believes whole-heartedly that her survival was purposeful, and that some greater power has in store for her something very important. Of course, most heroes would say that. If she could be called a hero. She would say no, not yet. Others would disagree. Regardless, her lifelong quest to exact revenge against the orcs has been replaced almost entirely by one to use her powers to bring her people out of the wreckage and into power. Her dedication is unwavering and her force all but unstoppable, but her bitter past has molded her into a jaded, tactless and uncharacteristically bloodthirsty shaman. Despite all that, she remains an empathetic icon of the people, with vengeance on her mind and in her heart.
Xada is an extremely skilled and powerful shaman, not anything near the likes of Thrall, but among those in the ranks of the Alliance, is certainly among the top few. Her passion lies in fighting the Horde, and the combination of her merciless resolve and passion for victory makes her a force to be reckoned with. Whether she chooses to take up mace and axe and deal shocking blows to her enemies in melee combat, or (her favorite) to sling horrifically potent spells at her enemies' back line from a distance, Xada brings the element of massive collateral damage to any unit. She fills the niche of glass cannon spellbinder or disruptive mid-line assassin and, if properly defended, can decimate enemy ranks with breathtaking ease (literally).
She is a no-shit-taking woman who will stand up for her views and always has something to say. While occasionally warm hearted and open, she is strict about her boundaries and is not swayed from her decisions easily. Her primary attributes would be stubbornness, passion, empathy, focus and dedication. All her promises and challenges are not to be taken lightly, as it has been years since she has made a threat she did not carry out, a promise she did not keep or a challenge she did not accept. Her honor and pride are oftentimes her downfall, but they also lead her to treat her words like iron.
If seen in her Challenger's Windfury Garb, her Spirit Guides would be Z'ennzos on the left and Singsong on the right. These primal effigies act as conduits to a more primal and structured form of shamanism, which leaves her vulnerable to acting much more impulsive and emotional whilst in company with her two wooden friends.
