This one's the 'start' of Rivadh's story. giving a bit of her background, and an idea of where she comes from. it all takes place before and up to the Exodar's crash on azeroth... Please keep in mind, it's a story about my character from an RP realm... so it's not canon Warcraft lore.

enjoy!


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There was a wet ‘splat’ as the soft, juicy starmelon collided with the side if the young Draenei’s head. She was twenty-five cycles old, still a child by Draenei life spans. There were seven other younglings near her age on the Exodar, and none of them gave her a moment’s peace, or a semblance of dignity.
"Look, it’s the Cracked One… Maybe another melon will make her Fully Broken!" the younger male laughed uproariously, getting laughs from the other two with him.
The young girl with melon bits all down her side glared at the offenders, a heavy crackle of static in her left palm. She hesitated before starting to raise her palm and give the melon-tosser a shock he’d not soon forget, but a heavy hand gripped her entire forearm and a soothing voice chided her, "Rivadh… Remember what I told you about raising your hand in anger…"
"But Master, He hit me with a starmelon again," she complained.
The elder shaman, one of the ‘Broken’, Draenei twisted by the Legion’s foul energies, perked an eyebrow and churred, "And can you not use water to wash it off and clean your clothing?"
Rivadh sighed; cowed, "Yes master…"
The elder shaman shot the other younglings a look and the scattered. He would have words with their caretakers later. He smiles and patted Rivadh’s sticky hair, "Come, let’s get you washed up…"
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"You should not let them goad you, Rivadh. Our ways are already under enough criticism without you shocking the other younglings whenever they offend you," the elder Shaman smiled, calling the water in the washtub to his hands before letting it fall over Rivadh’s head.
"I try master, but I do not have your patience…" She sighed and hung her head sadly. "And what they call me… It is even worse than how even the adults call us ‘Broken’…"
The elder laughed and shook his head, "Rivadh, you are not Like me or the other Shamans… You are still able to Feel and call the Light directly. You are still Draenei."
"But mother…"
"Yes, I know Lakimia was like me… and I know you’ve inherited her Talent with the Spirits. But you are not Broken." He smiled and patted her hair, "Do not worry, young one. You will find that in time, they will see that you can be the bridge that unites us all. Remember, The Light is in everything… The Elements Venerate it and the Light gives the Elements strength."
Rivadh tilted her head back and smiled, reciting, "’As All things are part of a larger picture, so does the light shine and give shape to that picture.’"
"Yes, you can recite it… but do you believe?"
"I do, Master."
He nodded and placed his hands on her shoulders encouragingly, "Then you will be twice the Draenei those who torment you will ever be."
She smirked and wagged a finger, correcting, "Master, you should not say such things, I might become too overconfident."
He laughed and shook his head, "perhaps. But since you are clean now, I will return to my meditations, and you should return to your duties."
"Cleaning menagerie cages… my favorite thing to do," she intoned dryly, standing from the tub and letting the water drip away.
He smiled and nodded, "If you can accomplish the tasks you enjoy least, then those you enjoy will be all the more enjoyable."
Rivadh rubbed her hair with the drying cloth and looked over, "Master?"
"Hmmm?"
She looked at him with a curious blink, "Am I pretty?"
The elder shaman was caught off-guard by that question and he coughed, "Ah… wh-why do you ask?"
She blushed a little, shuffling her hooves and gripping her tail in her hands, "Well, I think… if I was pretty, maybe I would not get teased so much."
"Mmmm, That sort of praise is superficial, Rivadh, you know that."
She nodded, "I know… but… oh, never mind." She sighed and excused herself, heading to get dressed again before going to her duties…
The elder shaman smiled and sighed, speaking after her, but not so she would hear, "Only my long lost mate could match your beauty, child… "
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Seventeen Cycles later...

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Steel rang off steel as sword clashed against shield. The armored pair danced around the ring, with the onlookers quietly cheering over the din of the match. The larger male swung his sword in and almost toppled the younger, smaller female, who barely blocked with her shield, "What’s wrong, Cracked One? Lose your Hoofing?"
Rivadh parried a vicious backhand from the male and smirked, "You are only wishing you had the chance to get me on my back, Sadavosh." She swung her mace in fast and in stuck his shield like a gong, making both their ears ring, and it made his shield arm tingle.
"Hardly! Your hooves are too flat!" He scoffed and struck at her again, only to be deflected by her shield as the onlookers sucked in a breath at the insult. Sadavosh grinned in triumph as he saw her hooves reposition, but the next thing he saw was the face of her shield at it connected with his face soundly, making him stagger and nearly drop his sword. She leapt into the air above him and landed behind, her mace placed neatly on the back of his skull.
"I win… and only because you thought you could get away with saying my hooves are flat." Rivadh growled and smirked, "Let me show you how flat they are." He lifted her leg and kicked Sadavosh squarely in the rear, knocking him to his face.
The Trainer clapped his hands commandingly and the pair stood at attention. "Good, good. Both of you performed wonderfully." He praised the pair without looking at them directly, speaking to the rest of the group, "So you see, combat is not about who can hit harder, or who is faster. Words can also be used to set your opponent off. But only if the opponent is listening to you." he nodded and gave the signal that the lesson was over. "Remember what you learned today, as I will be testing you on it come next session."
As the others left, Rivadh stayed a moment shuffling up to the older instructor a bit, her voice low and soft, "that's the first time you've praised me in a long time, father."
"You did well, it was earned praise," he replied shortly, still not turning to face her. She shrank a bit and sighed.
"Am... am I such a disappointment to you that you treat me this way?" she bit her lip, a tremble of sadness running from the tip of her tail up her spine.
He turned and frowned at the young female before him, his own daughter, born of a miraculous union of a Vindicator of Argus and a Shamaness of a Tribe of Broken. He huffed and looked away, "you have strayed from The Light, how would you expect me to react to such a thing?"
"But mother..."
He cut her off sharply, "your mother is dead!" the sword in his hand ground in its scabbard as he gripped it crushingly.”She walked the path away from the light and it could not save her from what had been done to her. You choose the same path on your own volition, seeking that same oblivion in the end. I watched her die before my eyes; I will not watch such a thing again."
"But I'm not Broken, father! I am not Like mother was!" she retorted angrily, her fury had been fanned by his thoughtless words, and she let it slip from her grasp, the resentment of his narrow-mindedness lashing out at him with her words, but he did not feel them.
"No, you are not. But you seek to be, and that is more than I will bear. Go now. I will have Karkallas Take over your combat training. Speak to me no more of these things."
She stepped back, "f-father..."
"Go... Leave me..." he turned from her and walked away firmly, resolute on his path.
Rivadh stood, stunned and empty. After some time, she was not sure how long; she dropped to her knees and cried. And outside, the world wept with her, heavy rains battering ceaselessly against the crystal and stone of Tempest keep.

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Two hundred and twenty cycles later...

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"Where are they?!" the Vindicator screamed, alarms and noise muting his voice to a dull roar amid the chaos around them.
"They’re coming! We've lost contact with the Gardens, Factory, and Secondary Residence! The Main Keep is overrun!" the Soldier reported, helping to usher the fleeing civilians into the door.
A hologram popped into place near the Vindicator's left, "Sir, The prophet is secured!"
"Good, We're still getting escapees here, make sure everyone is Secured!" he turned to another hologram and shouted, "what's the status on the Anchors?!"
"Gravity Anchors two and five are disconnected, anchors one, three, and four aren't responding, we're having to disconnect the linkages manually, it's going to be another ten micro cycles!"
"Damn it all, we don't have that long! Get a move on!" He waved his hand and the hologram faded... there was an eerie screech before an explosion rocked the structure.
"Naaru's grace, they’re using the Keep's defenses on us!" one of the soldiers ducked and cowered.
"Of all the..." The vindicator hissed, and turned, "Close the door, we can't stay any longer with that kind of assault..."
"but sir, the escapees?" Someone worried.
"It's those few remaining or the many who are inside! We cannot stay... Close the doors."
A blast of lightning connected with the wall near the vindicator's head and he turned to face the one who nearly hit him. She stood, glaring daggers at the towering vindicator.
"Get inside while you can, Civilian." he droned, unwilling to give a second thought to the mildly dressed female.
"Do not close that door..." she hissed, a nimbus of static coalescing around her left fist, "Anyone who touches that door will deal with me. We have seven micro cycles before the Anchors are freed, we aren't going anywhere until they are disconnected, so we wait those Seven micro cycles..."
"I am in command of this defense, you impertinent little girl!" the vindicator snarled at her, asserting his authority, which she promptly ignored.
"And you are commanding it badly. You want to save lives, then do not sacrifice our people to those who would only enslave and torture them." she Glared right back, and the pass way was silent as the two wills clashed in their glares.
The vindicator turned away and grunted, "Close the door. We're leaving."
Nobody moved...
He turned and shouted at the technician, "I am in command here, and you WILL close this door!"
"Sir, she is right... we have to wait for them, or at least try..."
"From where I am standing, I was in command of this Defense, not you or some Lightless youngling who has no concept of the greater goo-" his words were lost as a furious crackle of lightning hit him square in the chest and knocked him back through the door, his heavy armor charred and polarized by the blast, leaving him effectively stuck to the floor.
The younger woman lowered her sizzling palm and spoke with a soft finality that matched the Vindicator's will, "then stand over there." she turned to the ones who were running up the step way to the doors, "RUN! The Legion takes no prisoners!! RUN!!!"

Hours later, After the Doors had sealed, and the anchors were loose, the Exodar drifted quietly through the Nether, masses of Draenei huddled in its crystal and steel shell. The young woman from the Gateway smiled and patted the head of a younger warrior, "there... the wound will heal, but make sure the dressing is changed twice a say."
"Thank you... you've saved my father," the warrior smiled and knelt next to the wounded vindicator.
"Perhaps she can yet save someone else's father too..." Another voice spoke from behind her and she went rigid. Slowly standing she turned to face the eyes of her father, who looked down at her with a humbled expression.
"Over here. These wounded need their rest." She spoke tersely and guided him away from the area designated for the wounded and dying. Once away from there she spoke again, "You know you were wrong."
"And you were wrong to strike me, so we are even in that area."
She turned and glared, but his expression was still one of humility. She stopped and blinked.
"I was wrong. In fearing for those who were saved, I lost my way and nearly left others to die in their stead." he sighed and nodded, "It seems I’ve been wrong about a great many things..."
she listened patiently.
"My daughter... she chose a path different from what I wished of her... and... I resented her for it. I saw her headed to damnation and a life of solitude and introspection... And I was wrong." He allowed a faint smile to crease his lips for a moment, "In the hardest time, my daughter showed that she is a great leader, and wise beyond her age. While I was ready to give up on those who had not caught up... she refused to give in to our enemy, denying them the chance to harm more of our people... She has done what I was unwilling to do, and she stood against me to do it."
Rivadh sniffled a bit and stammered, "Father..."
he looked up and smiled, "... you haven't called me that in a long time..."
She shook her head and sniffed again, wiping the tears from her eyes, "I'm sorry... I missed... I wanted to... Father!" She took a step toward him... and he reached for her... and the whole of the Exodar gave a mighty cough, and the floor split open, a fast expanse of blue beneath the yawning gap in the floor... for a moment Rivadh's father hung there, stunned but still reaching for his daughter to hold her in his arms as he had when she was still a baby... and then he was gone, sucked out of the gap by ferocious winds as the Exodar came apart over the continent of Kalimdor, on the world that would become the home or grave of the Draenei... Azeroth.

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