Riiva

Description
Hawklike features, piercing eyes, and the proud bearing of a warrior unscarred. Though she tends towards light dress armour or overtly alluring civilian clothes when not on the front lines, there is nothing flirtatious about Riiva's manner. The wary may see her appearance for what it is - a taunt and a test, to see who has enough discipline to look past deliberately (and missleadingly) sexualised appearances.

A young adult as Kaldorei reckon maturity, Riiva has yet to shake all the follies of her youth. She has cast iron discipline, reflexive respect for her martial superiors and daunting amounts of intelligence, but also intense pride in her own abilities, and the grudging sense of humor of one who has recently had to accept they too are capable of being an idiot. The combination doesn't always come naturally to her.

Seen fighting, she moves with purpose, harmony, and exquisitely maintained balance - victory isn't the goal to pursue, just what happens naturally when one fights well. Under the strut and standoffishness, at her core Riiva is a warrior philosopher, who sees combat as a microcosm of all existence distilled to it's purest form. She believes with absolute sincerity that the way to peace is by understanding combat so well that actually engaging it becomes unnecessary.

Occupation
Formerly a novice priestess and Sentinel trainee, more recently a recruit of The Cenarion Guardians. Reputedly because her Sentinel trainer decreed her pride and ambition better suited for an order that seeks out battle, not stands guard against battles that may find them.

Family
Silnaen Whitewater, her sister. They are close enough in years to be closer than most Night Elf siblings.

Criminal Record
None.

Background
In eight hundred years, there's been much in Riiva's life that could not be reduced to weapons -- but those are what she has always returned to. As a child she was a restless hunter of imaginary dragons, like as not to drag her younger sister Silnaen along into made-up adventures and very real trouble. Growing up, she knew with absolute certainty she'd become a Sentinel, a hero, a general and famed protector of Ashenvale. Skilled as she was with sword and bow, she'd never dreamed she might be denied entry into the ranks. Too much arrogance, her sword-teacher told her, in no unkind tone. Too much vanity, too much personal pride to perform as a Sentinel should.

The bitterness of rejection stayed with Riiva for well over a century, and in candid moments, she may admit she has never quite forgiven it. She put her frustration into what she knew, determined to hone her abilities to a point where she could no longer be denied. She learned the use of any weapon she could lay her hands on, and worked on perfecting control of her own movements past efficiency into sheer elegance (something she continues to this day, though for different reasons). It was only when Silnaen completed her druid's training and followed her obligations into Ysera's Emerald Dream that Riiva finally realised the point she'd been missing: there are things larger and more important than any amount of will, skill, or personal ambition. Losing her sister, she found the beginnings of the humility her teachers had tried in vain to instill in her.

The next few centuries were a learning experience. No longer held back by the need to stay close to her sister, Riiva left Ashenvale. She travelled the length and breadth of Kalimdor, read and reread old histories and literature, entertained lovers and material pleasures, dabbled in poetry, metalwork and other crafts (which she continues to this day), even spent a few decades at the Temple of the Moon contemplating priesthood. It left Riiva with a broad but not especially deep knowledge of a great many areas -- but in the end, none of it satisfied her. By her five hundredth birthday, she'd realised why. In all the ambiguities of the world, nothing else lived up to the simplicity of live steel. Hit or miss, fight or flight, attack or defend, live or die – to Riiva, combat is a microcosm of all that is true about existence. In combat, she found balance, and finally peace. For over a century she lost her taste for wonder, pleasure and emotion entirely, preferring to chase philosophy and logic through swordsmanship, in pure celibacy.

The loss of Nordrassil and true immortality began another change. Shocked into mortality, Riiva found herself certain the Kaldorei could not adapt to their new mortality in time to survive as a species. This led her to go east to mortal lands with the first of her kind, in the hopes of somehow preparing the younger races to take over as custodians of Azeroth when the Kaldorei inevitably succumbed to time. While pursuing this, she served with several mercenary outfits, including a brief stint as arms sergeant for lord Lazerel of House Lavanandar. This is when she met Darrian, and the business she brought a recently awoken and much changed Silnaen east to help with.

In the course of House duties Riiva was exposed to a troll curse that for a while made her a proverbial magnet for ghosts and vengeful spirits. Continuous harrassment by spectral creatures eventually forced her to retire to the Temple of the Moon, allegedly half out of her mind and seeing things that weren't there. Silnaen stayed east and sought out Teliviel of the Dragonslayers, hoping the adventurers could help her find a way to restore her sister’s slipping grip on sanity. A cure was eventually found, but recovering from the ordeal kept Riiva out of action, in contemplation at the Temple of the Moon, a good while longer.

Two years after the fact Riiva seems to have found her balance again. At the recommendation of her former Sentinel trainer, Riiva has offered her services to the Guardians, in hope of finally seeing combat as part of something worth fighting for. Privately, she also hopes to find a way to help Silnaen, who has been somewhat peculiar ever since her return from the Dream, and has not recovered with time as once hoped.

Current Status
Assisting the Sentinels in defence of Astranaar, pending further orders.

Personal Notes
Riiva was conceived in WoW Classic as a rebellion on the elf-porn armour for Night Elf Warriors. Wearing it is pure manipulation on Riiva's part - people who get hung up on it are in her opinion lesser creatures, because they let themselves be distracted by superficial appearances. It's the people who disregard the sexy armour and focus on the cold, cunning warrior wearing it that she considers worthy opponents, or comrades.

In the history of Riiva, there has been exactly one succesful attempt to flirt with her. It involved an hour of philosophical debate and ended with Silnaen in apoplexy and convinced her sister was now lusting after a human. Take a bow, Quinnthalas.

There is a myth about two warriors in ancient times meeting at a bridge too narrow for both to cross. They agreed that the most skilled would cross first -- so they drew steel, and waited, watching their opponent, preparing to make or counter the first move. When night came, they sheathed their weapons, bowed, and continued in opposite directions to find other bridges - without ever exchanging a single blow. They didn't need to: both knew now that they could never best the other, so actually fighting the battle would be pointless. This is Riiva's favourite story, and the paragon of the sort of warrior she strives to be.

Riiva has been called my Mary Sue - not because she's all that perfect, but because she lets me indulge my philosophical and poetic bents with impunity.