I've gotten many compliments on these three MyRolePlay descriptions in-game, so I thought I'd share with the rest of the internets. I'm also often asked to help with writing MRP descriptions, so here's how I write mine.
Blood Elf Hunter
Name: Redevancette (pronounced Reh-deh-von-ceh)
Title: The Disowned and Disgraced
Eyes: Light Green
Height: 5'3"
Age: Young
Description:
A bit short and a bit young, Redevancette is dressed in lovely clothes that seem to already be fading into disrepair. Her red hair is kempt, her skin is soft, and she doesn't look like she could do much good in a fight. However, as unworthy of battle as she may seem, her silver fox is lean, quick, and ever watchful of his mistress. Though he wears a tattered leather collar and his mistress holds the leash, he doesn't seem as though he would back down easily in a fight.
History:
Born to a wealthy family of fur traders, Redevancette grew up with little knowledge of the process by which her family acquired such vast wealth. All she knew was that the money flowed in, and that it was good. Her father was an avid hunter in his own right, passionate about quality and rarity of his goods. He would often travel to his trappers' camps to see for himself what they were managing to hunt down, skinning a few of the animals himself before leaving. However, his health declined, he decided to bring her in on the trade in the hopes that she would take the reins after his passing. Their planned trip was put on hold as the cataclysm rocked Azeroth, but such a problem was minor in her father's eyes. In fact, it opened up new opportunities. Silver foxes of Gilneas were suddenly in supply, and he made a point to corner the market as quickly as possible. Bringing his daughter along, he traveled to Gilneas to introduce her to the industry. However, as he brought a fox to her live to teach her to skin it, Redevancette was horrified. She refused her father's orders, grabbed the fox's leash, and ran off into the woods. Disowned by her father after her refusal to take part in what she saw as a terribly barbaric practice, Redevancette has been cut off from her family's wealth. All she has now is the coinpurse she carried, the clothes she wore, and the fox she rescued.
Blood Elf Paladin
Name: Feyoran
Race: Sin'dorei
Height: 6'5"
Description:
Usually bedecked in glorious golden armor, Feyoran is easily spotted on the street... From any distance. He's like a beacon of the Light that he reveres so deeply, reflecting light and thereby increasing its brightness.
OR
A sudden change in Feyoran's appearance has taken place, centered around his armor. Once upon a time, he would proudly wear his deceased mentor's golden and azure plate, even with the roaring lion right on the chestpiece. It seems, however, that his superiors have talked sense into him, indicating that he would be better off right now if he didn't look like a paladin of the Alliance. Now, he wears armor issued to him by the Crusade, gear designed for blood knights… Not for paladins.
Aside from his armor, his features are fairly average for a blood elf. Compared to a human, of course, this means he's as handsome as can be, even somewhat mythical in appearance. Of course, his fellow Sin'dorei would never be as easily impressed. Short brown hair rises spiked from his head, his chin boasting its own tidbit of flair. His face is otherwise clean-shaven, appearing as though it couldn't grow a beard even if he wanted one. Feyoran appears to have a muscular build while wearing his armor, but he slims down considerably while wearing casual clothing.
He looks like he's at least past the late stages of adolescence. To a human, he would appear to be about twenty-five or so.
OR
Never one to abandon the call of duty, Feyoran has taken up the mantle of a blood knight. As such, he wears his rank's armor, armor befitting of a commander. However, he is no battle-hardened crusader. He remains a medic first and foremost, and as such, his faith in the Light shows just above his head. As always, none of his skin is visible below the neck. Even beyond the protection of his chestpiece's arm guards, a thick, dark shirt still conceals him.
Aside from his armor, his features are fairly average for a blood elf. Compared to a human, of course, this means he's as handsome as can be, even somewhat mythical in appearance. Of course, his fellow Sin'dorei would never be as easily impressed. Short brown hair rises spiked from his head, his chin boasting its own tidbit of flair. His face is otherwise clean-shaven, appearing as though it couldn't grow a beard even if he wanted one. Feyoran appears to have a muscular build while wearing his armor, but he slims down considerably while wearing casual clothing.
He looks like he's at least past the late stages of adolescence. To a human, he would appear to be about twenty-five or so.
Home: Hearthglen
Birthplace: Quel'thalas
History:
Before the fall of the Sunwell, Feyoran was in the midst of training to be a simple priest. His future probably would have included traveling to Lordaeron to find employment in the military. Of course, this was not what fate had in mind, and the Scourge swept through Lordaeron and Quel'thalas, robbing the humans of their home and the elves of their Sunwell. Like most of his brethren, Feyoran was unable to resist the temptation of fel magic, sating his addiction through timid use of it. If ever there was a faithful disciple of the Light among the elves, however, it was him. He knew his people had not been forsaken by the Light, deigning to believe the Scourge was simply too powerful to be denied victory. He continued on in his training, traveling Quel'thalas to assist those who had been devastated by the Scourge. When the time finally came to strike at the heart of the Scourge in Northrend, Feyoran knew where his destiny was. He traveled to Northrend, joining the Argent Crusade in its endeavors. It was there on that snowy wasteland that he began training to become a paladin, finishing his training shortly after the fall of the Lich King. Though he was somewhat disappointed he hadn't made as much of a difference as he'd have liked, he took solace in the fact that he was better off alive instead of having fallen the way many of his friends had. After the Scourge's master had been laid to rest, Feyoran traveled back to the Plaguelands with the rest of the Crusade, helping establish their presence in the Western Plaguelands. He now travels back and forth between Silvermoon and his home in Hearthglen.
Or that's what he'll tell you, at least.
Blood Elf Death Knight
Name: Lord Allidar Duskwatch
Title: Frost Knight
Eyes: Frigid Blue
Height: 6'5"
Age: 160
Description:
Allidar stands at average height for a blood elf. He has, however, put on pounds of muscle during his time in the Scourge. He's still quite well-preserved, and smells of formaldehyde mixed with cologne. As he was in life, Allidar is still exceptionally good-looking. However, as you may find out, his cold demeanor and oft-spouted insults tend to drive off any who attempt getting near this man.
His armor is well-crafted and sturdy, often coated in a thin but strong layer of ice. Around his neck is a thick, leather- and fur-crafted scarf, which he pulls up over his mouth now and then.
Home:
Birthplace: Fairbreeze Village
History:
Allidar was unhappy with his station in life before undeath. Born to a family of scribes and enchanters, he didn't look forward to the family trade. Becoming something relatively interesting, such as a Farstrider, didn't appeal to him either.
Luckily for Allidar, the Scourge swept through Quel'thalas, striking him down on its path of conquest. After this, Allidar's life took a turn for the better. Since he had surrendered rather than fight tooth and nail for his homeland, he was afforded special privileges. Namely, well-preserved undeath. His vanity intact, his confidence boosted, and his despised family left behind, he followed the Scourge to wreak havoc across the rest of Quel'thalas and corrupt the Sunwell. Even Allidar's sword, hastily grabbed from an elven armory, was reforged as a powerful soulblade, his mother's blood still caked on it.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and Allidar was tricked into accepting the Light's blessing at the Battle for Light's Hope Chapel. Realizing thereafter of his lost freedom to slaughter any he saw fit, Allidar spent most of his time in the remaining Scourge-infested areas of Lordaeron. His blade was reforged again during this time, growing stronger as it absorbed both the fear of those it killed and the anxiety of its wielder.
Worse, Allidar's hopes were dashed once again by the Lich King's final death. For this, he holds a heavy hatred of Tirion Fordring and the Argent Crusade, though not a hatred he is willing to make public.
Finally, Allidar is completely free of his former master. His pendant of echos is gone, and he now must figure out where his existence goes now. He has reforged his blade again, this time in honor of his first victim: his mother. The honor and nobility beginning to creep into his heart has become increasingly reflected in the blade itself. His past still chases after him, however, and will not relent.
But not all throwbacks to the past are horrible memories and insurmountable regrets. After his father's will was finally read and acted upon, Allidar received his inheritance: a patch of seawater, the deed recognized by both the Horde and the Alliance, in the middle of which an island has erupted during the shattering. On this island, deemed Menethil Isle, Allidar has founded his dream: a kingdom all his own, complete with a fortress and farming land. Its citizens are happy and obedient to their king. Why does this seem wrong, though?
