Name: Lyricalla Margeret<br/>Race: Human<br/>Class: Priest<br/>Gender: Female<br/>Level: 79 (I leveled her to 85 in game, so I want to portray her at high level for reasons)<br/><br/>Wiping the sweat from her brow, hidden beneath her hood, she stood at the edge, watching the blacksmith, waiting for signs of Horde occupation, waiting for the battle to begin. She wasn't in command this time; it was someone else, she couldn't remember if it was an actual Paladin or just another Warrior. Her black stallion mount came next to her, hooves clopping on the ground, as he was done perhaps socializing with the other horses in their pens. Her body was garbed in the finest, most heavily enchanted Frostweave cloth she could fashion. Though one might've asked why she bothered to look fashionable in a battlefield, the truth was pure magic users such as her were confined to cloths as wearing anything heavier would disrupt their magics due to the lack of physical training that Paladins, Shaman, and Druids underwent. Thus the enchantments were made to give her extra protection, but beyond that, cloth was cloth and ripped easily. "Remember," she muttered to herself, "I'm fighting not just for Stormwind, but for the other races of the Alliance as well. This victory is for us as a whole, even the Night Elves and Draenei."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>