Khyle

[Khyle]

Full Name: Khyle Khimara
Nicknames: Silvercat, Kyky
Date of Birth: November 5, 3 A.P. (After Portal)
Age: 22 at the start of WoW, so 24 now? I usually just say 23 when asked in character
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Hair: Dark blond, but with a peculiar silver sheen
Skin: light pink
Eyes: One blue, one green
Height: 175cm
Weight: 85kg

Place of residence: Varies, raised in Stormwind
Place of Birth: Lordaeron
Known Relatives: 2 siblings: Alehks Khimara, Male Night Elf (half-elf) Warrior 20; Emilhia Khimara, Female Human Priest 25

Religion/Philosophy: Khyle makes his own way, forging his own path. He's a bit of a wanderer. He lives for the thrill of combat above all else, as it's only when his blood is pumping and his life is on the line that he feels truly alive. In D&D terms, his alignment would be Chaotic Neutral, though he wants to be Chaotic Good. He doesn't care about religion at all.

Occupation: Sword for hire (previously an SI:7 operative)
Group/Guild affiliation: Tirisfalen
Guild Rank: Veteran Guard
Enemies: None (...yet)

Likes: Combat, cats, exploring, having fun with friends, relaxing
Favorite Foods: Wolf Steak, Bear Steak, Raptor Egg Omelets
Favorite Drinks: Health Potions?
Favorite Colors: Silver, Black, Forest green
Weapons of Choice: Twin matching long swords
Dislikes: Alchohol, very pious people, authority
Hobbies: Herbalism, Alchemy, mountain climbing, breaking and entering (just because he can, not because he has any interest in stealing anything). Honestly, Khyle doesn't really have any hobbies that don't relate to his chosen line of work

Physical Features: Average height, well muscled and very toned, with medium length hair. His face is quite attractive but slightly boyish, and he's rather unassuming. He wears no facial hair. He often has a slight smile and an impish twinkle in his eye, as if he his hiding some great secret. However, it is sometimes obvious this is only a facade, as his eyes often seem troubled or distant despite his smile.

Special Abilities: When he is in battle, he sometimes enters a state of pure energy, free from thought and emotion. In this state, he is as calm as a still pond inside, while outside he becomes a veritable whirlwind of physical power. ((This is the Adrenaline Rush talent)) This is his favorite state to be in, and he relishes combat for this reason.
Positive Personality Traits: Independent, self-confident, easy going and amiable unless confronted
Negative Personality Traits: Has authority issues, headstrong and stubborn if confronted, can be unreliable, a little bit selfish
Misc. Quirks: Doesn't call people by a nickname unless he knows them REALLY well (that is, if he calls you by a nickname instead of your full name, it means he likes you and trusts you)

Played by What Famous Person: James Franco
Theme Songs: Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional

History:
Khyle was born in Lordaeron just after the First War. His mother was a Dalaran trained Mage, but had left the Kirin Tor years earlier when she became pregnant with Khyle's brother Alehks. His father was a Lordaeron soldier. Both were killed in the siege of Lordaeron during the Second War. Khyle has never really come to terms with the horrors of his childhood and the death of his parents, though he tries to hide that fact and has repressed many of the memories.

After Stormwind was rebuilt, Khyle and his siblings were sent there and spent the next several years living in the Orphanage near Stormwind Cathedral. About the time of the Third War, Khyle joined SI:7 and that's where he gained his rogue training. Afterward, he left the organization and now does what he can to make his own way (though Matthias Shaw still keeps tabs on the young rogue). He seeks any job that will lead him into combat.

That's what led him to the Swordwaltzers. He was drawn by the motto "Defend what is, fight for what must be." He found that the whirling, dancing fighting style of the guild leader Kurohane that gave the guild it's name was very similar his own fighting style that he had developed as an SI:7 operative. With Kurohane's leaving and the dissolving of the Swordwaltzers, Khyle decided to stay with the newly formed Tirisfalen, where he feels he may have found the home he never had.

[Khyle]

Flashbacks (Khyle's Story)

The bright light of the moon was both a blessing and a curse. It made it easier for Khyle to see in the sparse forests of Hillsbrad, but harder to remain hidden from his quarry. He had been following the Forsaken since Tarren Mill, but she was almost as good at moving unseen as he was. In Southshore, the lights from windows spilled onto the street and Khyle could hear laughter from the tavern. Khyle didn't laugh as much as he used to. It was hard to find anything funny anymore. How long had he been doing this? Five, six years, maybe?


"I'm going to join SI:7."

"You're WHAT?" asked Alehks incredulously.

"I've been selected to train as an SI:7 operative," Khyle said, looking up at Alehks. Alehks had a different father than Khyle and Emilhia. He was half elf, and though most high elves were short, for some reason he was much taller than his brother. He had dark, ruddy skin and black hair while Khyle and Emilhia were fair. "I start cadet training in two weeks."

"Khyle, why?" Emilhia asked, concern on her face.

"Because, I...I need to find where I belong."

"'Find where you belong?'" Alehks said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I need to find something to believe in, something to fight for, somewhere I belong, because I don't belong here! Look at you, you've got your mining job, and Emilhia starts acolyte training at the Cathedral next year. I need to find something for me, something I'm good at. And there are only two things I've ever been good at: hiding and fighting. So I'm going somewhere where those are desirable skills."

"But, Khyle, SI:7 is full of thieves and assassins!"

"SI:7 protects the people! Just because they use the shadows to do that doesn't make them any less good or right!"

"Kyky, please," Emilhia pleaded, her young eyes full of fear, "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do, Em. I need to do this for me. And for you. And for everyone else who I could help."

"Khyle," Alehks began, "just stay here. Find a job with the herbalists or alchemists or something."

"I can't stay here," Khyle said as he turned to leave. "This place reminds me too much of living in the orphanage. I have to move on."


That's right, it was six years ago. He was sixteen. They had left the orphanage two years earlier, as soon as Alehks was old enough to get his own job and provide for Khyle and Emilhia. Growing up at the Stormwind Orphanage had been hard on Khyle, though it was difficult for him to explain exactly why he had disliked it.

A flash a movement caught his eye. There was the Forsaken, near the stable. Creeping closer, Khyle thought about how glad he was to be working with the Tirisfalen. If felt good to finally be getting assignments, not like when he was at SI:7 and would get passed up for all the important missions...


"What is it this time, Khyle?" Matthias Shaw said without looking up from his desk.

"Sir, I request to join the detachment to fight the Scourge in Lordaeron."

"We're not fighting the Scourge," the leader of SI:7 said, rubbing his eyes wearily, "we're just trying to get refuges and survivors out before everyone is infected by the plague. Your request has already been denied once. My decision stands."

"But...but, sir!..." Khyle stammered.

"Stow it, Khyle," the older man said, cutting him off. "The Silvercat stays here. You're too young and inexperienced for a difficult mission like this."

Grating his teeth, Khyle struggled to keep his temper. "I want to defend my homeland."

"Don't play that game with me, boy," Matthias said, his eyes narrowing. "You and I both know you've never given a damn about your people or your homeland. You just want to see real combat, and in some twisted way try to avenge your parents. Well, you're not going anywhere."

"Yes, I am!" yelled Khyle as he turned to leave.

"Stand fast, cadet!" Matthias rose slowly from his desk. "Watch your tone with me or I'll throw you in the Stockades, and it wouldn't be the first time you were punished for insubordination. You will stay here. And if you try to sneak away, I'll track you down and kill you myself. Dismissed!"


A year after he joined SI:7, the undead plague broke out in Lordaeron, the country of his birth. He had wanted that assignment, but was turned down because he was too young. It still bothered him sometimes.

As he moved closer to the stable, he turned his head and his hair caught the reflection of the moonlight, flashing bright silver. Though his hair was dark blonde most of the time, it had a strange sheen and would glow silver if the light caught it just right. That, and his propensity for bringing stray cats home to the orphanage, was where his nick-name "Silvercat" came from.

The Forsaken must have seen the flash of light, because she let out a low hiss before disappearing over the roof of the stable. Khyle cursed inwardly for his mistake, but his thoughts still lingered on the Third War. That time had been rough on everyone, but Khyle had taken it especially hard. He had wanted to make a difference, and took it personally when he was passed over for combat duty.


Tears streaming down his face, Khyle swung and swung and swung at the training dummy, trying to take out all his anger and frustration on it. Matthias Shaw's words only stung because they were true. For all his talk of protecting his home and helping people, Khyle really didn't give a damn. All he cared about was the rush of battle and proving himself. That and protecting his family. What little family he had left. What hurt worse, though, was that he wanted to care, he wanted to help people, he wanted to be a good person, but just couldn't.

Finally, his grip on the training swords slipped and they fell from his hands. He stared at his blistered and bleeding palms for several minutes until he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he turned to face Alehks as his brother entered the SI:7 practice yard.

"Hey," Alehks said casually, giving a small wave.

"Hey," Khyle replied, faking a smile.

"How did it go with Matthias?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Good point," Alehks said, taking a seat on a nearby barrel. "You know, there's really nothing you could do. Every report from the north indicates that Lordaeron is lost, no matter what help Stormwind may send. You're better off here."

"I know that, but..." Khyle struggled for the words to explain his feelings. "I'm just...I'm just so sick of waiting here and doing nothing! There's more out there for me to do, so much I could accomplish! That's the whole reason I joined SI:7. I wanted to make a difference. But what's the point? I'm not fit to help anyone. Not my family, not my friends, nobody." He slumped to the ground, head between his knees, the tears in his eyes welling back up again.

"It's because of Mom and Dad isn't it?" Alehks said, looking down at his brother. "You want to go back to Lordaeron to make up for Mom and Dad dying."

"What do you care?" Khyle retorted, his voice cracking. "He wasn't even your real dad."

"Khyle, that was fourteen years ago! You were three years old!" Alehks sighed. "You're beating yourself up because of something that happened so long ago you were barely old enough to remember it!"

They sat in silence for several minutes. Finally, Alehks asked, "So how is your training going?"

Khyle lifted his blood stained hands for his brother to see. Slowly, they both started to giggle, until giggles progressed to chuckles and chuckles progressed to full blown laughter.

With tears of laughter replacing his tears of frustration, Khyle eventually regained enough composure to speak. "What about your training? What's it like to be a soldier?" Alehks was 21 now, and had begun training with the Stormwind guard shortly after Khyle had joined SI:7.

"I don't know," Alehks replied. "Honestly, it's not as hard physically as working for the miners was, but it's more demanding mentally. And I'm not sure about this armor," he said, plucking at the heavy chainmail shirt he wore.

"Yeah, I could never fight in armor like that," Khyle said as he stood. "It would restrict me too much, I wouldn't be able to dodge an attack."

"Well, you don't really need to dodge if the attack just bounces right off the chainmail."

"Hmm, I guess so. How is Emilhia?"

"She's great," Alehks said, nodding to himself, "She likes it a lot."

"Really?"

"Actually, no. I don't know why I just said that. She's actually having a really hard time with her studies. You should talk to her, Khyle. You were always closer to her than I was."

"Yeah, okay."


Khyle didn't go talk to Emilhia even though he promised he would. He had only seen her half a dozen times since she began training as a Priest, and he regretted now that he had not seen her more often. She had grown strange of late, distant, and there was a darkness that followed her.

Mom and Dad. He barely remembered them. Just images, really. Feelings. Warm embraces and warm smiles. Laughing faces and loving eyes. And then the fires of the Second War. Orgrim Doomhammer laying siege. Buildings in flames. Dead bodies everywhere. His parents' blank eyes staring. Though the memories were fragmented, they had not faded with time.

Khyle tried to ignore the past enough to focus on the present. Ghosting through the underbrush, he slid down the slope toward the river bank -- and came up face to face with his quarry. Their mutual surprise lasted only a moment before they leapt at each other, sword meeting dagger in the clang of steel on steel. Light, but the woman was good. Khyle's swords were a blur of razor edged metal, but it seemed like it was all he could do to keep her from him.

As he pushed her back enough to catch his breath, he realized that he recognized her. He knew this undead, though she wasn't such when he had known her. He struggled for a name. Annie...Annie Murdock. She had cared for him and his siblings when their parents died. They had lived with her several years before they were sent to the orphanage in rebuilt Stormwind.

"Goodwife Murdock!" he called as she tried her hardest to kill him.

Stepping back a few paces, she stopped. "How do know that name?" she hissed, regarding him warily. One eye looked him up and down, the other an empty socket.

"It's me, Khyle. You cared for me when I was a child, after the siege of Lordaeron. Don't you remember?"

"My memories are lost to me," she said, sneering. "Now get out of the way before I gut you like a fish."

His past once again before him, Khyle's memories returned in a flood. Buildings burning. Kids playing in the woods. Bodies in the street. Listening to bed-time stories. Screaming babies. Laughing children.

The Forsaken immediately sensed his momentary distraction and siezed the initiative. In a flash, she was behind him, and a foot of cold steel in his ribs brought Khyle crashing back to reality. Twisting away from her, he felt his pulse surge. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins drove him on. He pressed the attack, twin forged steel becoming a whirlwind of death. Her one eye widened in surprise as he pushed through her defenses and struck. Sword blade cut away rotting flesh again and again, until finally she lay on the ground, gasping for breath but with no lungs to draw it.

"I'm sorry, Goodie Murdock," he said, tears forming in his eyes, "but it's better this way," and with a clean swipe, severed her head.

He took off his armor and began wrapping mageweave bandages around his chest. The wound stung horribly; she probably had poison on her weapons. Maybe he could get Kiraena to take a look at it when he got back to Stormwind...