Nyxxa Murkthorn

Updated: September 25, 2021, at 10:50 AM

Race: Saytr
Gender: Female
Age
Unknown
Start (Apr 632) Current At Death
DoB: November 18, 632 (Last Rebirth)
Height 7'00" (sans horns)
Eyes
Hair
Skin
Class
Monk (Way of the Illidari) / Rogue (Scout)
Known Languages
Status Alive
Affiliations
Family
Unknown

Appearance

Nyxxa is a tall woman, over seven feet tall without horns and over eight feet tall with them. The upper half of her body is covered in curled tattoos that are carved deep into her body, though fur seems to still grow over them in places. The lower half of her body consists of thick teal fur slightly darker then her hair, with a long, lion-like, tail. She has dark purple curved horns roughly two feet long, the same colors of her hooves and her claw-like fingernails. Her lips have taken up a green-tint to match her green-fel blood. She has dimples that appear when she sneers. She wears simple clothes, and carries around a lot of black strips of wrapping cloth that she wraps around her eyes, arms, chest and occasionally legs.

Personality

Though she initially attempted to present herself as aloof and above most other people, the façade crumbled quickly to reveal a friendly and clumsily well-meaning woman. She has done her best to sand down the rougher traits the satyr's curse inflicts her with, and has no intention to lose herself to them again. More a soldier than a spy, she loathes duplicity and prefers to be as genuine as she's able. She has soft spots for animals, trees, tree-lovers and troubled teens.

Though wont to speak her mind, she has developed a hesitancy to do so if she feels it could threatened her newfound friendships and alliances.

Biography

10,000 Years of War

Despite a lifespan of over 10,000 years Nyxxa’s memories are a mix of the few things she is able to remember, some things that she strongly assumes based on a bit of evidence, and many blanks filled in by personal speculation.

She remembers fighting in the War of the Ancients. Then fighting again in the War of the Satyr. Her people won both, but both at a high cost. She remembers peace, for a time. She was a soldier, then a scout for many years after the war. She remembers being confident, having survived all this strife. Yet, despite her people fighting back the satyrs time and time again, they continued to have a presence on Azeroth. The Kaldorei needed to be vigilant, and it was her job to make sure that these remnants of the Legion would not hurt the people she cared for. Not that she remembers who those were.

And things were fine until they weren’t.

All that she remembered about the event that changed her life was as follows: During one ill-fated patrol, her unit was ambushed by a satyr sect and she was captured rather then killed. She doesn’t remember what happened during her imprisonment at their camp, and at the end of it all, she was cursed and transformed into a satyr. Nyxxa believed, without a single doubt in her mind, that it was bestowed upon her against her will. And though many names escaped her throughout the years, she never forgot the name of the satyr that did this to her. Vaerux.

The next thing she remembered was waking up in the Twisting Nether. She had died, but she couldn’t remember how. She theorizes that other Night Elves had raided the camp to attempt a rescue, and thinking that she was dead they had killed every satyr they could find. Or the satyrs that had captured her had simply killed her to toy with her further. In any case, she was a demon now. She knew she was dead to her people now. And even if she wasn’t a threat to them now, she could eventually be.

It was shortly after that she gave herself the name Nyxxa. Or maybe someone else did? She knows that Nyxxa wasn’t her original name, but she doesn’t know it’s origin. She thinks she could have taken it from Highborne woman she killed during the war. Or, maybe she made it up. She thought it pointless to try and remember now...

And just like that, she found herself within the Legion. She has little memory of this time, during which she died about a dozen more times. Each time was brutal. And with each death she lost more and more of who she had been before. Before long, she had forgotten her own name, her kaldorei name, as much as she had tried to cling to it. She forgot how long she had been a demon as the years crawled onward. She saw the might of the Legion for herself. She saw how impossible it was to resist. That everything that faced the Legion would eventually fall to it. She felt as the corruption consumed her. And day by day she became more literally and psychologically mad. It was all useless.

Until, that is, her twelfth death.

This time when she came back, she felt invigorated. The will to live that had drifted away had been seared into her. For the first time in a long time, and for the first time in her life as a satyr, she felt alive.

Her eyesight was gone. Her eyes were completely gone. That was a bit strange at first. But, she actually found herself glad to be rid her twisted satyr eyes. That and she could still see in a way. Somehow....

Also, she started to hear Vaerux’s voice in her head.

A little while later, she found out that she was covered in tattoos, as that was something that needed to be pointed out to her.

She remembered bits and pieces of this past life.

She had found a sect of Night Elves. They called themselves the Illidari, or Demon Hunters. They used the power of the fel to fight demons, as using their own power against them was surprisingly effective. And, through one way or another, she was now one of them.

They had taught her to embrace what she was and her power. To embrace the yearning for revenge she felt towards the Legion for doing what they had done to her. They had helped her track down the satyr that had turned her. They had allowed her to defeat and consume him. (It was also weird to get used to his voice in her head. But hey, all things have a price, right?) She had been trained to fight and destroy demons. To see through a spectral sight given the loss of her eyes. There were still many things about her training she couldn’t remember, yet had still remained as though it had become instinct.

She couldn’t any remember names and faces. Though, in reforming, it was very likely that she had forgotten on purpose. To protect them in case of the worse.

She could remember what she had been killed for this time. To be an agent within the Legion. To find whatever intel she could find on the Legion’s movements and goals, for as long as necessary. Lucky for Nyxxa, the existence of this splinter faction of Night Elves was kept a secret from all but the elite of the Legion. And with her newfound embrace of the fel, it was easy to pass herself off as one that dabbled as a warlock. As for the tattoos? Well. Satyrs tattoo themselves all the time.

For the second time, Nyxxa had been reborn. And for the first time, she had a purpose. She still knew that the Legion’s power was immense. She still knew it was impossible to stop them. That the corruption still very likely consume her. And she wasn’t about to let that stop her.

Nyxxa was a Demon Hunter. And though she remembered little else, she knew what that meant.

Chapter Two: Casting Dice

Chapter Three: The Scales Tip

Nyxxa returned two months after the invasion of Azeroth, reappearing among the Broken Blade the day before the mating ceremony of Arthak and Sadras.

During the festivities that followed, Kroll Gravenight had pulled her aside to inform her that he had returned to Draenor to commune with the elementals, and had discovered that something was wrong. Kroll said that, ultimately, he had to return to Draenor to attend to the issue and prevent it from getting worse, thus leaving the promise they had made to Remnii to watch out for Arthak in Nyxxa's capable hands.

Later in the evening, Nyxxa slipped away from the party to speak to one of the elven prisoners that Arthak had taken during the Sacking of Silvermoon. While she didn't ask Arthak directly, she spoke with the guards posted outside and got their permission before entering, after telling them that she would, in fact, tell Arthak that she had been there the following morning. While the prisoner clearly didn't trust Nyxxa, Nyxxa emphasized that her situation could have been far worse, and encouraged her to cooperate with Arthak, as with cooperation, the prisoner's chances of survival increased, and so did the amount of intelligence she could gather. While the prisoner was still clearly distrustful of Nyxxa, she acknowledged the wisdom in the saytr's words, and they exchanged introductions. She revealed her name to be Sadine, and the other prisoner to be her aunt.

The following morning, Nyxxa kept true to her word and informed Arthak that she had spoken to the prisoner. Arthak stated that he had wanted to be asked before she did any such thing again, as her going behind his back just served to shake what little trust was between them. Nyxxa said she would, but also emphasized that Arthak needed to make an attempt to better understand his prisoners, as ultimately, what he felt they needed, wasn't always what was needed, and Nyxxa admitted that, because had been in a similar situation as Sadine before, and because the elves here may have been her own kin long ago, she had a degree of empathy and understanding for the plight they were in.

Chapter Four: Homecoming

Achievements

6 Million Forms of Communication
Act as the Party Translator.

A Bird in the Hand
Get a worse result on a reroll.

A Blessing, Mayhap in Disguise
Get a Supernatural Gift.

Hey, I Know That Guy!
Appear in a major scene in the other campaign.

I Just Had Sex
Get laid.

Jailbreak
Break someone (or yourself) out of a prison or dungeon.

Like Butter

Crit twice in a row.

Miracle
Evade an attack while at critical hit points.

Mmm, What You Say
Die.

Overkill
Roll two 20s on an Advantage roll.

Pacifist
End a Combat Encounter without dealing damage or running away.

Sic Semper Tyrannis
Kill a beloved political figure.

Sure Plays a Mean Pinball
Be deafened and blinded simultaneously.

That Still Only Counts As One
Defeat a Huge or larger creature.

The Better Part of Valor
Flee from a Combat Encounter.

Touch Nothing But the Lamp
Steal an artifact.

Trace, On
Craft a magic item of Uncommon or Rare rarity.

Heroic Heights
Roll a check with a total higher than 30.

Storm Chaser

Defeat 10 elementals.

I Like This One
Force the GM to create a recurring NPC.

[Retired] The Good Stuff
Gain Level 1 Corruption.

[Retired] I Can Quit When I Want
Gain Level 2 Corruption.

[Retired] Dark Secrets
Cast a Forbidden Spell of level 1-3.

Appeared In

Chapter Three: The Scales Tip

Chapter Four: Homecoming

Trivia

Media


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