House Blackcloud

Quel'thalas (Peter Lee)

Blackstone. That was the name it had been given.It had fallen in ages past, from the heavens above. A dark, glass-like stone that amplified arcane potential, with deep reds swimming beneath its surface like slumbering flames.Karnas Valecrest saw the promise held within that strange material: artefacts, machinery, and weapons of war.Karnas was a creature of indomitable ambition. He tore through the very fabric of Quel'Thalas, carving his family's name into the annals of nobility.A name born in the fires of industry, not from old money or titles of Highborne repute.He claimed a noble seal and built his estate atop the Blackstone. Miners toiled and forges roared, their smoke hanging heavy in the air. He built his towers taller still, far above those blackened clouds, and took a name that wore his achievements with pride.The Blackcloud family was born.

The Heir

Heir (Zyrophin, Twitter)

He was Karnas reborn. That was what they all said.With dark hair and darker eyes still, Zuril grew in the shadow of his patriarch, a man dour of mood and severe of temper.Before most children could ride a hawkstrider, Zuril was already being drilled in warfare. Childhood gave way to noble duty, and the weight of expectation settled heavily upon his shoulders.He learned quickly how to wield a sword; how to riposte and parry, where to cut and where to stab.A bow was thrust into his hands, and his shoulders grew strong before their time, accustomed to the strain of the draw.His siblings? His competition.Each looked upon him with envy and ire, waiting for the day he might stumble and his place could be usurped.All save for his sister, his twin, Naril.She loathed their father, and loathed still more his attempts to shape Zuril in his own image.

Broken upon the shore

Duty (Irisson, Twitter)

Banners flew and horns blared as Zuril departed the Blackcloud estate at the head of his household retainers. His armour was dark and close-fitting, his long raven tresses bound tight.All of Azeroth were mustering for an assault that promised to halt the Legion in its tracks. To defend the realms from demonic incursion.Karnas had cupped Zuril's cheek and whispered the coldest of praise before sending him to that shore.Zuril had led his men into battle before. Upon the backs of hawkstriders, they had broken Amani incursions, shattered Alliance defences, and furthered the ambitions of the Sin'dorei.But this would be different.Alliance and Horde stood upon the fel-stained isle, the stone cold beneath their feet.The battle that followed was no epic for the bards to sing.Banners were torn. The horns sounded in panic.Elves were crushed beneath abyssal feet, their screams shredding an air already heavy with iron and fear.A pit lord broke through the Blackcloud guard, its monstrous hand closing over Zuril's shoulder and half his face. Fel-scorched flesh tore beneath its grip, leaving scars that would mark him forever.The young lord-in-waiting was dragged through the mud, his feet kicking in agony.The battle was lost.And his twin was among the dead.

The Viper

Viper (D4ybreaker, Twitter)

The heir to Blackcloud could not be a failure. Certainly, he could not return alive from such a defeat.A noble death upon that benighted isle would have made a better story.Zuril was not brought home to the estate. Instead, the wounded elf, bound in bandages and writhing in agony, was cast into the gutter.He could not have known then the truth of his father's betrayal. The deals struck with creatures from beyond the veil. The felfire that ran through Karnas' veins.And so he began anew, from the gutter.In the darkened corners of Murder Row, whispers spread of a scarred shadow, one who spoke with a hiss, his voice forever damaged by the wound he bore.He carved his way through the rancid underbelly of Silvermoon herself.Like Karnas before him, Zuril cut himself a place in the world, though now he possessed neither name nor title.He struck against corrupt nobility. He made deals of his own, with darkened creatures from the Nether.The son remained upon the path to becoming the very father he despised.When the Fourth War ignited, Zuril had already worked his way back into Sin'dorei ranks. Not as a noble, but as a soldier.His riders carved a bloodied path across Kul Tiras and Zandalar, yet even the chaos of war could not turn his thoughts from revenge.It was a night like any other when Zuril slipped back into the estate.Those who accompanied him had been promised an easy reward: wealth in abundance, waiting beyond those blackened walls.The thieves proved a welcome distraction as Zuril made his way to his father's hall.The night ended with the estate aflame, blood staining Zuril's armour.Karnas waged war against his own son thereafter. Every shadow in Silvermoon seemed to conceal a dagger, and no corner was deep enough to hide within.At last, Zuril was forced to abandon the seat of his people.

Found

Found him (Soulart, Twitter)

He had been travelling south when he heard.Dalaran had fallen, and with it his uncle, Landastrus Valecrest.A man who had ever stood opposed to Karnas and his ideals. In Zuril's youth, Valecrest had taught him at the Academy.Zuril was seated in a tavern, struggling to comprehend the city's fall and the loss of his uncle, when at long last a dagger found his flank.The agent of his father burned well for the act, though the wound he had inflicted was grievous.Zuril arrived the following night at Valecrest's graveside, pallid and weak.There, he accepted the bleak terms fate had dealt him.The light ebbed from the edges of his vision as he clutched at the wound that would not clot.A poisoned blade, no doubt.The end approached with a cruel vision: a figure from his youth, with chestnut curls and ocean eyes.Nor'andir.The love he could never have claimed, not when their lives had been so far removed from one another.The Starforge son had died in the fall. Zuril had mourned him through the raging hours of the night.Yet there he stood.And as consciousness finally fled, Nor'andir caught him.

The First Flame

Before kingdoms rose and fell, before the names of emperors were carved into stone, there was fire.It were the warmth that gathered frightened souls against the cold. The light that kept watch while the world slept. The promise that, beyond the circle of its glow, the darkness need not hold dominion over all things.And in ages long forgotten, that first and most ancient purpose found a guardian.Zin-Guo.A Wild God of flame, she was never counted among Pandaria's four great August Celestials. Her strength was humbler, her following smaller, yet her charge was no less sacred.
Where others embodied strength, wisdom, hope and fortitude, Zin-Guo tended the fire that gave such virtues shelter in which to grow.For hers was not merely the flame that burned.It was the flame that defended.The flame that cleansed.The flame that endured.Yet even the oldest fires may falter.When Lei Shen, the Thunder King, turned his might upon Pandaria and its celestial guardians, Zin-Guo stood among those who resisted him. In that ancient struggle, she was struck down.Her essence fractured, her strength scattered, and the great fire that had once answered her will dwindled to scarcely more than an ember.She did not perish.

The Ignited Path

Upon the secluded isle of Jiu-Fen, where the veil were thin and man and spirit lived as one. A handful of faithful guardians sheltered what remained of her spirit. Generations passed, and those who had once tended her sacred flame gave way to monks, their teachings preserved in secrecy and passed from master to disciple.Thus endured the Ignited Path.Its doors were not opened merely to the virtuous, nor its wisdom reserved for those who had already found peace. Many who sought Jiu-Fen came burdened by grief, consumed by fury, or hollowed by vengeance.Some had lost their homes. Others had lost the people they loved. Still others had surrendered so much of themselves to hatred that they no longer remembered who they had been before it.To such souls, the monks offered neither absolution nor condemnation.They offered a choice.For the Ignited Path did not teach that anger was a weakness to be extinguished. It taught that anger, like fire, must be mastered. Left untended, it consumed without distinction.Given purpose, it could become a shield against cruelty, a light against despair, and the strength to protect what suffering had not yet taken.Those who sought to follow its deepest teachings faced trials intended to reveal not the measure of their power, but the nature of the flame within them.

The Last Ember

For centuries, none had been able to restore the celestial who waited beyond those trials.Until a wounded Sin'dorei came to Jiu-Fen.Once called Zuril Blackcloud, he had lived through privilege, betrayal, bloodshed and vengeance. By the time he reached the island, the fel's corruption had left a stain upon his very soul.Whatever strength remained in his body, the spirit within was fading.He came neither whole nor innocent.But neither had Zin-Guo been whole for a very long time.When he endured the trials and stood before the last remnants of her fire, two broken spirits found in one another what neither could recover alone.Zin-Guo bound her essence to his fading soul, preserving the life that was slipping beyond his grasp. In return, the strength of his spirit and the chi he would learn to cultivate gave her fractured essence something it had lacked for centuries: a living vessel through which her flame could endure and grow.Neither emerged unchanged.Zuri's connection to the Arcane and Fel was forever severed.The last ember of Jiu-Fen had found its champion.And Zuril Blackcloud, who had spent so long allowing vengeance to define him, began at last to become Zuri Starforge.For the fire that consumes and the fire that protects are not different flames.Only the hands that guide them.

I. First Impressions

There is something almost princely about him.Tall and unmistakably Sin'dorei, Zuri possesses the fine features and striking bearing of one born among Quel'Thalas' most distinguished Houses. There remains a certain beauty to him, though time and cruelty have conspired to make it a more severe thing than it once was.A terrible scar mars one side of his face, its ravages stretching down towards the shoulder beneath his clothing. It is an ugly interruption to an otherwise handsome countenance, a grim reminder of the bleakest night.His expression seldom offers much in the way of welcome. Dark brows rest above an unyielding, often unblinking stare, whilst his mouth seems naturally inclined towards a dour scowl. There is an intensity about his gaze that can make even his silence feel rather pointed. His hair is black as night, often tied up yet when loose threatens to reach his waist. It is a silken, smooth cascade of midnight tresses. A blazing tattoo is inked across his right torso and arm, it seems to swirl with a flame dancing beneath his skin. Around his neck hangs, always, a shimmering blue crystal. If one listened carefully, it seemed to ever be chiming a gentle song.When he does speak, his words carry the faint, rasping hiss of an old injury. He is sparing with them, and his stern countenance does little to soften their delivery.To those who know nothing of him, Zuri Starforge may seem cold, distant and unkind.

II. Whispers & Reputation

"Blackcloud? Last I knew, the heir was dead. Or disgraced. With that family, it was difficult to tell.""I've seen him training Monks. Stern as a magistrate, and twice as difficult to please. Never heard him raise his voice, though. Doesn't seem to need to.""Zuri, you say? I believe he's involved with the Starward Conclave. Scholarly types, though they seem to find themselves in rather dangerous places."

III. Paths That Cross

The Scholar's RoadThose whose pursuits carry them into the study of ancient relics, forgotten magic or dangerous artefacts may find their paths crossing with the Starward Conclave. Zuri numbers among its members, though his interests lie more in the Spiritual and Celestial phenomena of the world. He leaves many finer academic discoveries to others, whilst protecting them on delves and expeditions.A Lesson in DisciplineThere are those who have seen the scarred Sin'dorei instructing young monks, his stern manner and unyielding gaze lending him the appearance of a particularly unforgiving teacher. Those that seek a true, yet testing, Master for Physical and Chi training should pursue him well.Trouble on the HorizonMagical disturbances, dangerous relics and threats best left undisturbed have a habit of drawing the attention of the Conclave. Those caught in such affairs may find themselves standing alongside Zuri, whether by design or unhappy coincidence.

"I was little more than a ghost before you found me again, an elf wandering the long years with naught in his heart but the memory of all he had lost. Then you came, the fiercest Flame that tore asunder all that was dark, and from the ashes of all I had been, I rose anew.It feels as though your love has burned through me for a lifetime, Zuri, and I would not be spared of it. Now I beg you, let your flames have me entire; let your ash mark my skin and your smoke fill my lungs. I would perish by your fire than endure the cold of a world bereft of it.So let me burn. I have known a thousand sorrows, Zuri, yet none has laid my soul so bare, as it feels to be undone by you." - Nor'andir Starforge