Spirit Whisperwind, Neutral Cleric

Height: 5'9"
Weight: 141 lbs
Hair: brown
Eyes: green
Home: Alfheim
Birth: 871
Personality: quiet, cheerful

Spirit has brown hair, green eyes, and is very neutral. She is destined to become a druid. She is silent and loves nature and life. Her passion portrayed when she plays her harp. She is animal friend, knows what they know, sees what they see. She fell in love and married Marcus. Spirit was killed at the Fortress of Darkness when she was backstabbed by Samantha Charisma.

Spirit's Prophecy

Suddenly, the dreadful beat of wardrums echoed through the enchanted forests of Alfheim. Galin the Wise looked up. He walked to the window that looked out northeast from the City of Alfheim. His wooden house sat close enough to the city to keep an eye on things, but also a considerable distance within the forest where he wouldn't be disturbed. And now, he was disturbed. He had a mind to teach these forest rovers a lesson before he looked out, but upon viewing the chaos below he was shocked.

The village, laid waste by red orcs, smoldered with the screams of the dying. Galin had been a priest of Alfheim; he couldn't help but feel the agony of those people tearing his own heart. The red orcs were taking the loot back to their home, but Galin couldn't move. He forgot about the forest and his oath to protect all the life within it. All he could see was death. He reflected upon his own life and the choices he had made--to leave the Temple of Alfheim.

The orcs continued to pillage and kill whoever was left. The spiteful creatures harbored a hatred for the good people that had accumulated over the centuries since they were driven to the Broken Lands. The ruthless humanoids had no mercy for anyone, only self- pity. And red orcs were the worst. They were the mightiest, nomadic, warrior race of the entire orc species. They occupied Red Orcland, and there they even fought amongst themselves to the point of desolation.

Galin's philosophy was to not get involved, but something inside him surged with sublime triumph--a feeling he had not felt in a long time. He angered at the orcs who were continuing to loot the area, and he was going to interfere even if it cost him everything that he had gained, even if it stripped him of his powers. To use his powers one last time, he thought, for such a noble deed would be worth it. But no, wait. Over the years he had learned too well the consequences of hasty actions, and it was not his job to fight the orcs. He made some gestures and put his hand outside the window. Thunder clapped and the skies grew steadily darker. He picked up his staff and strided across to the door and opened it. He walked with the confident eagerness that he once had when he was young.

As he approached the ruins he saw the orcs hurrying away from the coming thunderstorm. They had not noticed him standing there awkwardly amongst the smoldering houses and people that lay about. Galin raised his arm out with his palm upward, about to bring a howling wind to frighten the orcs to a point of running. He was suddenly startled by a noise right beside him. He listened. There was no sound except for the rain which was now pouring down. He looked around himself but saw nothing. The orcs had gone, but that didn't matter anymore. He sifted through the blackened debris and then stopped. Galin's eyes widened for a moment and then a hint of confusion crossed his brow. He gazed into the innocent green eyes of a human child who had been forgotten in the orcs' time of panic.

Her eyes tranquility
And her smile hope...