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| //Artwork by // |
| Name: | Merenel Hartvigsen |
| (Mare-e-nell) | |
| AKA: | Merenel of the Blue |
| Gender: | Female |
| Race: | Human |
| Class: | Priest |
| Role: | Healer |
| Faction: | Argent Dawn (Formerly of the Clergy of Lordaeron) |
| Professions: | herbalism, inscription |
| Homeland: | Andorhal, Lordaeron |
| Player: | Sharksu |
RP Hooks
Citizen of Lordaeron: Probably the weakest of possible links, she was a farmgirl, afterall.
Argent Dawn: The older hands know each other in more ways than five. There are plenty of tales to tell.
Merenel of the Blue: As the dread Citadel blotted out the skies of the Eastern Plaguelands, a patrol of the Dawn was caught between roving bands of Scourge forces for two days. On the final night of their stand, waves of Scourge bodies battered their frontlines, quickly pressuring them into what would be a killing field. A favored friend, Templar Lerrain gave Merenel his sword. Words were exchanged between the two, leaving her in tears as they both marched to the frontlines. In a moment of dire heroism, he invoked every ounce of his faith, bolstered by Merenel's prayers.
The ground before them was seemingly consecrated, searing the flesh of ghouls and Lerrain alike. Merenel herself stood, staff planted in the fetid earth, whispering one litany after another as coruscating energy burned away the undead in veils of blue, holy flame. When she was next conscious, it was in bedrest at Light's Hope, her eyesight damaged and her hair bleached white.
Those who survived the night gave her the title, though she's never performed an act like such before or since.
Appearance
At a glance, Merenel plays the part of a matron. She seems all soft, comely curves, garbed in the drab utilitarian aesthetic of the Argent battle clerics. Her hair is a shoulder length shock of white, carefully braided and adorned with silver beads. Her skin is milky pale, save for rose colored cheeks and hands, reddened and rough. Her face is round, always bearing a pleasant smile and an eternally sleepy expression. It's hard to discern her eye color as she has a habit of keeping her eyes nearly closed, much to the dismay of her acolytes. They can never tell when she's napping.
This slow, unaffected appearance and large bosom often betray her combat prowess. Beneath the softness is a stout frame, strong limbs and a sturdy core- the strength needed at the front lines of the scourged warfront.
Though she doesn't wield it herself, Merenel is always carrying or caring for a large longsword. An imposing weapon with a black-leather scabbard,the cross-guard etched with the Argent symbol.
Personality
Merenel is a quiet woman, offering knowing smiles and quiet nods in most situations. She is quick to take up the slack of others, offer her personal belongings to the needy, and set up discourse between enemies, rather than engage in senseless violence. In her duties to the Dawn, she is unflinching, determined to bring back every operative she serves with. She acts as makeshift-mother to the younger blades, often orphans of the land they fight in. Between her cooking, her love, her sermons and her discretion as a confidante- a sense of home can be made, even in hell.
History
Born in year -4, Merenel was daughter of the Hartvigsen clan, modest mead-makers whos apiary and fields lay northeast of the city of Andorhal. She was bright-eyed with a mop of aubern hair, ruthlessly energetic.
To be fair, her early years were pleasant, too young to be affected by the war for Stormwind and her territories, too sheltered by her parents to hear the atrocities perpetrated by the Horde under Gul'dan.
She went to school in Andorhal's church, enjoying her time with the clerics who impressed upon her the importance of the tenets of the Light and it's Virtues. Despite her parent's protests, she also found she enjoyed the ideals of the monks as well, using Spirit to hone the Body. It wasn't uncommon to find her in the waning light of day's end, shadowing the movements of the monks from her own little corner of the training yards.
By the time she was eight, however, the effects of the war couldn't be more plain. Refugees trudged north, utilizing Andorhal and it's trade roads, their caravans full of haunted looks and packed to the brim with whatever they could take with them. Merenel's father offered what land and jobs he could, helping to ease the burden for some. This gesture of compassion spurred Merenel into performing her own deeds to ease the suffering around her. It wasn't long after that, that the war made it's way to her doorstep, shattering her naïveté and stripping her father from her life.
She would spend many of her coming years in service to the Church, joining the ranks of clerics that would become an increasingly proactive group throughout the Eastern Kingdoms. Prior to the outbreak of the Scourge in full, Merenel and her protectorate made their way as far south as Gilneas, treating the sick, offering rites for the dead and sending meticulous letters to her order.
The following weeks were a nightmare, with Merenel finding herself in Hearthglen, a stronghold deep in enemy territory that the Silver Hand had carved with out with agonizing effort. Warriors and refugees alike made due with what they could. In time, a bizarre sort of normality set in, the outpost being used by the remnants of the Silver Hand to strike out and reclaim more and more territory.
During this time, Merenel did her best to provide succor and tutelage to the small group of children that had survived the ordeals of Stratholme and Andorhal. Though she herself was run ragged, the needs of the youngest helped to keep her grounded. They needed someone, through all the fear and pain. She formed strong bonds with a few of the older children, helping them begin to find their places in this new, more violent world.
With the news and subsequent fallout of the death of Alexandros Mograine, Merenel made her peace and left with those that formed the Argent Dawn. With utmost sincerity, she promised those she'd become close to that she would meet them again, that they were to stay alive til then, just as she would.
Years have passed and still she lived, her convictions helping others to do the same. Until recently, she had been operating deep in the plaguelands. She kept her promise, and with each return to Light's Hope she stays up late to write letters to those she cares for. Cherishing each one she receives.
Relationships
Vond Satterly: A precious boy. He was among those at Hearthglen.
Desinae Raugh: A rambunctious templar, she was Vond's self-appointed rival. Another of the children 'raised' by Merenel. Her whereabouts had been unknown to her, but they recently reconnected before her travels to the southern Eastern Kingdoms.
Quietus Shorthand: A scholar and curator of various works on the Light, currently residing in Stormwind.
Writings
- Writings feat. Merenel Hartvigsen
- RP Logs feat. Merenel Hartvigsen
- Journal of Merenel Hartvigsen
- Mentions of Merenel Hartvigsen
| Title | Summary |
|---|---|
| (2022-09-08) A Spill From the Crack | A few days after the Battle of Light's Hope Chapel, Vond finds himself in a world that has been moving very quickly without him, but gets a little bit of word from Merenel. Etone demonstrates his impeccable bedside manner and casts Mind Soothe purely out of the goodness of his bleeding heart. With input and additions from all players. |
| (2022-09-04) Hastily Written | An extremely brief correspondence. |
| (2022-08-29) Reply to Merenel in Ironforge, Second | A reply to Merenel http://cobalt-company.wikidot.com/writing:2022-08-26-a-letter-to-vond-maudlin-or-not |
| (2022-08-29) Cracking the Cistern | Hoofbeats sound in the Eastern Plaguelands. Something is coming. |
| (2022-08-26) A letter to Vond, Maudlin or Not | Responding to hearing of Brother Satterly's current advventures. |
| (2022-08-25) Reply to Merenel in Ironforge | Vond responds to http://cobalt-company.wikidot.com/writing:2022-08-25-a-letter-north |
| (2022-08-25) A letter North. | A letter to one of her favored pupils. |