Name: Donovan "Donnie" Lee, Grand Master of the Order of the Broken Temple
Game Origin: World of Warcraft: Legion
Appearance: Wowhead Dressing Room Link: https://www.wowhead.com/dressing-room#Rz0a0zJ8z9co9MM9m8KKR8zcp8KKa8zcp8KKo8zcp8KKV8zcp8ysf87cFKK8zmv8KKk8zcp8KSS8zcp8KKs8zcp8KSQ8zcp8Cuo808DST808s
Personality: Donnie is a man of two extremes, the wild spirit of his early adventuring days tempered by years of experience, the harsh conditions of battle, and the patience instilled by the teachings of Xuen, the White Tiger. He may be, on the surface, fighting for truth, justice, and the Azerothian way, at the end of the day he cares about two things: Beating the crap out of whatever monster is going on a genocidal murder spree this week, and having a great time doing it. Despite being an Alliance monk, he's also a diehard Huojin, meaning he values action over words. This is not to say he can't come up with a perfectly workable strategy, or even use diplomacy when the situation calls for it, but just don't expect him to sit idly by when innocents are in danger. He ardently believes that you must be the change you wish to see in the world, and, judging by his long list of accomplishments, he practices what he preaches. In any event, he's kinda seen it all by this point. Considering the amount of apocalyptic crises he's had to stop, it takes a lot to faze him. Galeem is only scary to him, really, because he's big and powerful. In most other ways, he's just like Sargeras or the Old Gods.
Specialty: Melee Combat, Support
Level: 5
Experience: 0/50
Powers:
--> Chi Technique: Donnie can harness his Chi as a ranged attack, healing him and his allies while harming enemies. He can do this in two ways at present: Chi Burst, a ball-like projectile that travels in a 40-yard line and heals Donnie and any allies in its path relative to how much it injures enemies, and Chi Wave, a chain-projectile attack that bounces up to seven times to any target within 25 yards, dealing slight damage or significant healing to anyone it touches. These can't be spammed: Chi Burst can only be fired once every 30 seconds, and Chi Wave every 15 seconds.
--> Vivify: Donnie causes soothing green mists to appear around the target, providing a moderate heal.
--> Resuscitate: A resurrection spell that returns a soul to a corpse, bringing the target back to life with severe injuries. These need to be healed away before the target will be back to full strength. This also only works on a target that has a body left to revive, so it won't work on Galeem's minions as they turn to ash when they die.
--> Detox: A basic cure/antidote spell. A monk classic, this chi spell systematically clears all afflictions, diseases, toxins, and contaminants from the body in an instant. Harmful bacteria, viruses, poisons, and even prions will cease to exist on the spot. And because it's magic, there's no possibility of complications. This uses very little energy (or Mana if a Mistweaver is casting it), and Donnie can basically spam this as much as he wants. It has an eight-second recharge, however. Like many spells, this changes in the hands of a Mistweaver to additionally curing harmful magical effects as well.
Strengths:
--> Windwalker Monk: Donnie is a monk, one who sees the flow of chi, or life energy, in the world around him and can bend it to his will, enhancing his body and mind and enabling him to, with help, go toe-to-toe with some of the most dangerous beings in Azeroth. He is an agility-based fighter, prioritizing not getting hit over being able to take strong blows, but nevertheless the equipment he wears, looted from the bloodied corpses and glittering treasure vaults of beings far beyond mortal reckoning, is capable of withstanding much more damage than it has any right to, being enchanted and all. As a Windwalker, a melee fighter whose fists and feet are more deadly weapons than any blade, hammer, or gun, he can channel his chi into a variety of deadly (and not-so-deadly) abilities, including some healing stuff. In general, his brute strength is not to be underestimated either, considering all the times he's punched in the faces of ogres or demons four times his size wearing full plate mail with his bare hands. He is also capable of acrobatics in combat and can run at superhuman speeds using the power of the wind.
--> Adventuring Experience: Donnie has dealt with these kinds of threats before. The man has faced down all manner of apocalypse scenarios, and thus has some knowledge on fighting monsters like Galeem.
--> Renaissance Man: Donnie is a man who has mastered many trades, but Galeem's actions have wiped his memory of all but his enchanting ability. However, sitting in on a brief session of an activity he once knew how to do will jog his memory, and he will regain his knowledge at Journeyman level, representing an average member of trade. With some practice in the proper trade, he will get back to where he was. Skills unlocked will be considered portions of this ability and thus must be unlocked through roleplay, not as level rewards.
Weaknesses: (Faults, flaws, inabilities, and so forth. Nobody's perfect)
--> The Bigger they Are, the Harder they Fall: Donnie is used to being able to punch out things twenty times his size, heal the sick, and revive the dead (at least within limits). None of these are available now, and that last part is going to hurt. Without his old powers, and without the promise of being able to be revived should he fall, a lot of his previous battle experience will be moot. He hasn't been this weak for a long, long time, and seriously has to adjust to this.
--> The Good Life is a Hell of a Drug: Donnie is a bit of a hedonist, honestly. The Pandaren way of life, while based on real-life Buddhist principles of reducing suffering in the world, was chiefly designed to prevent the sha from returning. The sha, the murderous incarnations of negative emotions, would wreak havoc if widespread negativity was allowed to exist on the continent of Pandaria. This resulted in the locals living life to the fullest and doing whatever they could to keep themselves and each other happy. This spread to the Wandering Isle, and has left Donnie both gluttonous and fond of drink.
Spirits: None yet, except for maybe his own chi.
Kindred Spirits:
--> Doyle (Blazing Chrome): Donnie's an engineer by trade. Doyle's a hyper-advanced robot, and a genuine hero in his own right. It's only natural that should they meet, they'd get along swimmingly.
--> Sonny (Sonny, mobile version): The amnesiac zombie known as "Sonny" would hit Donnie's heartstrings rather severely, due to the existence of the Forsaken, a group of free-willed, sapient undead who were freed from the Lich King's control, only to be rejected as monsters by their still-living human kin. Donnie would have a lot of sympathy for the poor man, and they'd probably get along excellently as ass-kicking buddies.
--> Arthas: Arthas Menethil, the Lich King. Donnie has history with this bastard. It was Arthas who singlehandedly destroyed the Kingdom of Lordaeron and made humanity an endangered species. It was Arthas who unleashed the Plague of Undeath on Stormwind. It was Arthas who took his family with that foul concoction, necessitating that they be put down by the city guard. And Donovan couldn't lift a finger to stop him, spending that time training on the Wandering Isle while other adventurers fought and bled to storm Icecrown Citadel and end the Lich King's life. Donnie, as the leader of all monks, must set an example to others, and thus he is above such petty concepts as revenge. But if Arthas has shown his face here? Donnie will not hesitate to pound him into the dirt and throw him off the highest point of his wretched palace, if only to end his reign of terror.
Inventory:
--> Fists of the Heavens: A legendary artifact of unspeakable power, these handblades were forged by the tol'vir (basically, cat-people) smith Irmaat, who sought to create the most powerful weapon imaginable. In his hubris, he sought to charge the handblades with power by using a ritual to siphon Elemental Air from Al'Akir, the then-most powerful air elemental in Azeroth, and ruler of the Elemental Plane of Air. However, Al'Akir foresaw this possibility and, knowing that Irmaat was attempting to steal that which he could not control, sabotaged Irmaat's masterpiece; Al'Akir purposely poured far more power into the handblades than they could handle, making the energy within so chaotic and volatile that anyone who wielded the newly-made Fists of the Heavens would be torn apart in the ludicrously-powerful storm that would ensue. When Irmaat, not knowing this and believing that he had done the impossible, foolishly tried to wield the Fists, the explosion of pure elemental power obliterated both him and the entire city he lived in.
Later, after Al'Akir's death during the Cataclysm, the resulting power vacuum in the Plane of Air instigated a civil war among several powerful air elementals. One of them, Typhinus, tracked down the dormant Fists of the Heavens, and being an air elemental himself, was able to control them well enough to win the war with the power they gave him. But controlling such chaotic energies for so long gradually eroded away his sanity, eventually leaving the djinn both completely insane and with the power to obliterate anyone who stood up to him.
Grandmaster Lee and a close ally, Li Li Stormstout, desiring a weapon powerful enough to stand up against the heavyweights of the Burning Legion following Sargeras' latest invasion of Azeroth, travelled to the Elemental Plane of Air, tracked Typhinus down, and killed him, taking the handblades. Because monks must achieve inner balance and harmony of spirit in the course of their training, Donnie could truly control the Fists of the Heavens, succeeding where both Irmaat and Typhinus failed.
The Fists of the Heavens amplify Donnie's abilities dramatically. As the Fists act as a massive reservoir of raw elemental air, it is much easier for him to dodge while using them, increasing his agility even further levels. Techniques such as Touch of Death are dramatically amplified to have a much higher chance to kill, Touch of Karma now heals Donnie proportionally to how much damage it redirects, Fists of Fury briefly generates eight wind-based clones of Donnie that each have equal amounts of power to the genuine article, and in general, Donnie has far more energy while using them and can thus use his more powerful techniques more often and with less physical cost.
So, to summarize: The Fists of the Heavens act as a stamina-booster, a "tank" of Elemental Air that can thus augment Windwalker techniques in various ways, and, through infusing its wearer with Elemental Air, make Donnie much harder to hit.
Unfortunately, the above information is completely useless. Galeem's mass Isekai event sharply limited the Fists' power. While they still do enhance Donnie's abilities, the boost is less "endgame raid level," and more "Baby's First Magical Weapon" level. This also means that anyone can wield them right now, since their power is restrained enough that it won't wipe out a city or drive the wielder insane. As Donnie levels up, they will slowly start to gain their original power back, and it'd be advised not to steal them when that process finishes.
--> Xuen's Battlegear: A full set of leather(?) armor obviously crafted along Pandaren lines, infused with the power of the Pandaren Wild God Xuen, the White Tiger. As such, it is monstrously powerful, granting Donnie dramatically-enhanced agility (including reflexes), the ability to strike and use chi techniques much more quickly than a human should be able to, dramatically increases Donnie's strength to superhuman levels, hugely improves his intellect, and greatly enhances Donnie's ability to see and exploit an enemy weakpoint or repair someone's chi faster than normal. Of course, it's also an absurdly-powerful set of magical armor from a high-fantasy world and probably made out of pure Bullshittium, so it's sufficient to protect against most sources of damage at least partly, be it falling from the sky, getting shot in the chest, getting caught in an explosion (magical or otherwise), being set on fire, being hit with a blast of pure Void magic, getting caught in a particularly-nasty Frostbolt, or getting stepped on by a Fel Reaver.
Like with the Fists of the Heavens, this information is also somewhat worthless. The armor's magic is sealed, rendering it closer to a more conventional suit of magical armor than something outright legendary. As Donnie levels up, its full power will gradually be released.
--> Madman's Luggage: A bizarre, possibly-magical, possibly-eldritch carry-on, wheeled backpack (in Azeroth's traditional medieval/Victorian/steampunk aesthetic) sold to Donnie by a raving lunatic smack-dab in the center of Dalaran for the low, low price of 500,000 gold pieces, necessitating that Donnie make multiple trips to the bank just to carry the gold needed to pay for it. Defying all logic, it is vastly bigger on the inside than on the outside. In a pinch, if you can fit through the opening, you and five friends can use the handy vents Donnie had added to spend all day inside in the event of inclement weather, as it's as big inside as a studio apartment. It's stored...a lot of stuff. Everything from entire sets of magical armor, to several absurdly-dangerous or even legendary weapons, a ludicrous amount of food, water, ingredients, and enchanting supplies, multiple severed heads, animal trophies, demon parts, Old God parts, elemental parts, Voidlord parts, dragon bones, enough gold coins to fill three banks...it has always been very well-stocked. He has also enchanted it further to be dismissable and summonable with a thought, appearing out of thin air whenever he wants it.
Currently filled with:
--> Several hundred pounds of food, water, cooking ingredients/supplies, enchanting supplies, engineering supplies, survival equipment, general adventuring supplies (including potions), etc.
--> A month's worth of clothes
--> Toiletries
--> Camping equipment
--> A tremendous quantity of gold, silver, and copper coins.
--> Every mount Donnie owns, including the reins of an armored war gryphon (which summons the real deal on command), a Gnomish "World Spinner" rocket, a Dwarven flying machine, the head of the Titan-forged Mechagnome Mimiron (converted into a small aircraft with a convertible roof), the list goes on. However, he is most likely to use the Disc of the Red Cloud, an engraved, magical frisbee-like device that Donnie can ride like Goku's flying Nimbus. He can summon all of these mounts through enchantments (or however the hell WoW adventurers make fifteen-foot-tall dragons appear out of thin air). He also owns the Champion's Treadblade, an Alliance-themed motorcycle and perhaps one of the only times he's ever shown Stormwind Pride. Oh, and he's got the reins to an armored war-tiger, but he'd rather go with the bike any day.
--> Hearthstone: Hearthstones are rare, magically-augmented stones capable of warping the user back to wherever the user sets as their "home" once an hour, which in Donnie's case is whatever inn he stayed at last. This particular hearthstone is set to the Gilded Rose Inn, Trade District, Stormwind City. It also...probably won't work properly when trying to cross universes, so it's best not to use it until Donnie can set its location to a place in this universe.
Game Origin: World of Warcraft: Legion
Appearance: Wowhead Dressing Room Link: https://www.wowhead.com/dressing-room#Rz0a0zJ8z9co9MM9m8KKR8zcp8KKa8zcp8KKo8zcp8KKV8zcp8ysf87cFKK8zmv8KKk8zcp8KSS8zcp8KKs8zcp8KSQ8zcp8Cuo808DST808s
Personality: Donnie is a man of two extremes, the wild spirit of his early adventuring days tempered by years of experience, the harsh conditions of battle, and the patience instilled by the teachings of Xuen, the White Tiger. He may be, on the surface, fighting for truth, justice, and the Azerothian way, at the end of the day he cares about two things: Beating the crap out of whatever monster is going on a genocidal murder spree this week, and having a great time doing it. Despite being an Alliance monk, he's also a diehard Huojin, meaning he values action over words. This is not to say he can't come up with a perfectly workable strategy, or even use diplomacy when the situation calls for it, but just don't expect him to sit idly by when innocents are in danger. He ardently believes that you must be the change you wish to see in the world, and, judging by his long list of accomplishments, he practices what he preaches. In any event, he's kinda seen it all by this point. Considering the amount of apocalyptic crises he's had to stop, it takes a lot to faze him. Galeem is only scary to him, really, because he's big and powerful. In most other ways, he's just like Sargeras or the Old Gods.
Well, where do I start? I was born in Stormwind, like pretty much every human these days, and the son of a sailor. My father was an accomplished trader, with his very own merchant vessel, regularly making trips between Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. When I was twelve, my father took me onboard for a routine trip, only for the ship to get caught in a devastating storm at the halfway mark and wind up sunk. I grabbed on to a piece of driftwood, holding on for dear life. It must have been days. Eventually, I washed up on what I thought was an island, after what felt like a trip straight to the Twisting Nether.
Even half-delirious with hunger, thirst, and exposure as I was, I could still tell I was horribly wrong. Islands didn't have scales. Or beaks. Or flippers. The "island" was a gigantic sea turtle. It didn't notice such a tiny object hitting its massive shell, but I was nonetheless utterly terrified. Now, as a former adventurer I can tell you firsthand that Azeroth is full of bizarre and interesting creatures, but for a traumatized kid from Stormwind, who had just lost his father, was far from home, whose only hope of survival against overwhelming odds for the last several days had been a piece of flimsy wood, and whose only prior experience with the outside world was taking the occasional trade route to Theramore with his dad? It was too much. I fainted on the spot.
When I woke up, in a rather comfy bed, I saw a plump bear-like creature standing over me. That was the first pandaren I ever met, a good fellow named Zhao Longdrink. He came from a family of prominent brewers on the island, hence the name, and he had been delivering a cart of choice kegs to a local tavern when he saw me, faintly, from the mountains near the edge of the living island. After I recovered from my ordeal, and once I managed to learn enough of their language to become fluent, I learned where I was. Apparently, this turtle had a name: Shen-zin Su. And it could talk. Known as the Wandering Isle, Shin-zin Su had made voyage after voyage from a continent known as Pandaria to the rest of the world at the behest of his closest friend, the legendary Pandaren explorer Liu Lang, but after Lang's death from old age, he had fallen into a deep depression and no longer bothered to travel to land. Enough time had passed since they had last been to the Eastern Kingdoms that the Pandaren on the island had completely forgotten even my species, despite surely having discovered humans in their distant past.
After coming to terms with the fact that Shin-zin Su was never going to take me home, I decided to make the best of the situation and integrate myself into pandaren society as best I could. Over the next several years, I learned the ways of the pandaren monks, how to harness my chi to heal or hurt. How to take on armored foes with my bare fists. How to meditate and achieve inner peace. How to read and write their character-based language. How to write a damn good poem in the traditional Pandaren style. And of course, how to hold my damn liquor: The Pandaren are quite fond of drink, what with inventing an entire fighting style based around getting sloshed (looking at you,Brewmasters), and being capable of imbibing enough damn alcohol to put ten humans under the table in as many minutes. I would try going to a tavern and find myself shitfaced after one cup of their ridiculous sake. I...don't know how I did it, but after so many embarrassments involving booze, I can keep pace with a Pandaren lightweight now. Somehow.
Well, eventually, I finished my studies, but that was only the beginning of my adventure. One day, some of the monks started noticing that Shin-zin Su appeared to be in pain. I and two good friends of mine, Aysa Cloudsinger and Ji Firepaw, took a glider around the isle to see what was wrong. Appparently, the problem was that both a Horde and an Alliance warship had each ended up wrecked on Su's shell in the same spot! Naturally, they tried to fight each other, but we monks managed to intervene in time to mediate the conflict. My knowledge of Common was vital here: Combined with a particular orc on the Horde side who knew both Orcish and Common, I was able to help pierce the language barrier and stave off possible disaster.
I had lived on the Wandering Isle for years at this point, but I hadn't forgotten my home. I hadn't forgotten my mother, or my siblings, or the neighborhood I grew up in. But at the same time, living away from the war and the constant fear of the Horde all us Alliance citizens lived in for a good chunk of my life showed me just how stupid the whole thing was. When I had first told my master, Shang Xi, of the Alliance-Horde conflict, he honestly didn't believe me, that so many species could be engaged in a literal race war for so many years. And, well, ever since that conversation I had found myself questioning if the Horde really were the monsters that they were made out to be. Bigotry was a powerful force, though, and I had felt I needed definitive proof. When those two warships arrived, that was the real trigger.
It would take a few weeks for the soldiers to get their ships repaired with the supplies we had on the island, and in that time, I took the opportunity to talk to some of the Horde, relying on that same orc from earlier to translate for me (since Orcish was the lingua franca of the Horde, much like Common was for the Alliance). Their cultures were alien, and perhaps somewhat harsh, but those conversations cemented more than anything else that they were just...people. They weren't the monsters that we were told of. They could be good or evil, just like us.
I learned a lot about what had happened since I washed up on the isle from those soldiers. Lady Katrana Prestor, the black dragon Onyxia in disguise, who was later killed by a bunch of adventurers. The Alliance and Horde joining forces to charge through the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands and invade Outland, seemingly killing the corrupt Demon Hunter Illidan and dealing a serious blow to the Burning Legion. The conflict with the Lich King starting up again, which lead to that bastard dying too. Bolvar Fordragon, one of the best paladins in the world, becoming the new Lich King and singlehandedly confining the Scourge to Northrend so they can't hurt anyone else. The Dragon Aspect of Earth, Neltharion, going insane due to Old God corruption and becoming Deathwing, singlehandedly wrecking the world in a global Cataclysm and throwing the elements themselves out of balance. He ended up dead too (sensing a pattern here?). To be honest, part of me wanted to stay on the island, and get away from this idiotic war. But I needed to know if what was left of my family were alright. I wanted to see what had become of the world I left behind for so long in my absence. And, with my newfound powers, to do something about all of these crises. I wouldn't get another chance thanks to Su's endless moping. I needed to go with them.
But, the pandaren heart is also perhaps filled with a small amount of wanderlust too. Several monks on the island wanted to join one of these two factions. Now, there are also two dominant schools of Wandering Isle thought: The Tushui (who valued meditation, rigorous discipline, inner peace, etc), and the Huojin (who, rather than try to attain inner peace, valued action over words and thought that allowing something terrible to happen by inaction was just as bad as doing it yourself). I gravitated towards the Huojin...but that was before it turned out that the Tushui were going largely to the Alliance and the Huojin were going to the Horde! And since what I call the Great Race War was still on, going with the Huojin would be suicide! So, I went to the Alliance ship in a very un-Tushui-like rage, and three weeks later found myself back in Stormwind, not only out of place among my fellow monks, but out of place among my fellow humans as well.
The first thing i did after landfall, though, was go confirm if my mother was still alive. Turned out she, and all my siblings, had been killed when the Lich King released the Plague of Undeath on Stormwind, leaving me with no-one to turn to. So, with nothing tying me to Stormwind or even the Alliance anymore beyond my species, I decided I would make good on my promise to do something about all of the apocalyptic bullshit that happened over the last few years, and make sure it could never happen again. I went out into the world as a freelance adventurer, walking the earth and making Azeroth a better place for it, one piece of loot at a time.
I beat the shit out of countless monsters and menaces in the course of my adventuring, and eventually, through my actions in the Pandaria Crisis, and the time-bending Draenor bullshit, became the Grand Master of every monk on Azeroth. And then I helped destroy the Burning Legion and free the literal creators of my planet in an epic battle with the soul of a dying world given form. Not bad for the son of a simple merchant, I guess.
Even half-delirious with hunger, thirst, and exposure as I was, I could still tell I was horribly wrong. Islands didn't have scales. Or beaks. Or flippers. The "island" was a gigantic sea turtle. It didn't notice such a tiny object hitting its massive shell, but I was nonetheless utterly terrified. Now, as a former adventurer I can tell you firsthand that Azeroth is full of bizarre and interesting creatures, but for a traumatized kid from Stormwind, who had just lost his father, was far from home, whose only hope of survival against overwhelming odds for the last several days had been a piece of flimsy wood, and whose only prior experience with the outside world was taking the occasional trade route to Theramore with his dad? It was too much. I fainted on the spot.
When I woke up, in a rather comfy bed, I saw a plump bear-like creature standing over me. That was the first pandaren I ever met, a good fellow named Zhao Longdrink. He came from a family of prominent brewers on the island, hence the name, and he had been delivering a cart of choice kegs to a local tavern when he saw me, faintly, from the mountains near the edge of the living island. After I recovered from my ordeal, and once I managed to learn enough of their language to become fluent, I learned where I was. Apparently, this turtle had a name: Shen-zin Su. And it could talk. Known as the Wandering Isle, Shin-zin Su had made voyage after voyage from a continent known as Pandaria to the rest of the world at the behest of his closest friend, the legendary Pandaren explorer Liu Lang, but after Lang's death from old age, he had fallen into a deep depression and no longer bothered to travel to land. Enough time had passed since they had last been to the Eastern Kingdoms that the Pandaren on the island had completely forgotten even my species, despite surely having discovered humans in their distant past.
After coming to terms with the fact that Shin-zin Su was never going to take me home, I decided to make the best of the situation and integrate myself into pandaren society as best I could. Over the next several years, I learned the ways of the pandaren monks, how to harness my chi to heal or hurt. How to take on armored foes with my bare fists. How to meditate and achieve inner peace. How to read and write their character-based language. How to write a damn good poem in the traditional Pandaren style. And of course, how to hold my damn liquor: The Pandaren are quite fond of drink, what with inventing an entire fighting style based around getting sloshed (looking at you,Brewmasters), and being capable of imbibing enough damn alcohol to put ten humans under the table in as many minutes. I would try going to a tavern and find myself shitfaced after one cup of their ridiculous sake. I...don't know how I did it, but after so many embarrassments involving booze, I can keep pace with a Pandaren lightweight now. Somehow.
Well, eventually, I finished my studies, but that was only the beginning of my adventure. One day, some of the monks started noticing that Shin-zin Su appeared to be in pain. I and two good friends of mine, Aysa Cloudsinger and Ji Firepaw, took a glider around the isle to see what was wrong. Appparently, the problem was that both a Horde and an Alliance warship had each ended up wrecked on Su's shell in the same spot! Naturally, they tried to fight each other, but we monks managed to intervene in time to mediate the conflict. My knowledge of Common was vital here: Combined with a particular orc on the Horde side who knew both Orcish and Common, I was able to help pierce the language barrier and stave off possible disaster.
I had lived on the Wandering Isle for years at this point, but I hadn't forgotten my home. I hadn't forgotten my mother, or my siblings, or the neighborhood I grew up in. But at the same time, living away from the war and the constant fear of the Horde all us Alliance citizens lived in for a good chunk of my life showed me just how stupid the whole thing was. When I had first told my master, Shang Xi, of the Alliance-Horde conflict, he honestly didn't believe me, that so many species could be engaged in a literal race war for so many years. And, well, ever since that conversation I had found myself questioning if the Horde really were the monsters that they were made out to be. Bigotry was a powerful force, though, and I had felt I needed definitive proof. When those two warships arrived, that was the real trigger.
It would take a few weeks for the soldiers to get their ships repaired with the supplies we had on the island, and in that time, I took the opportunity to talk to some of the Horde, relying on that same orc from earlier to translate for me (since Orcish was the lingua franca of the Horde, much like Common was for the Alliance). Their cultures were alien, and perhaps somewhat harsh, but those conversations cemented more than anything else that they were just...people. They weren't the monsters that we were told of. They could be good or evil, just like us.
I learned a lot about what had happened since I washed up on the isle from those soldiers. Lady Katrana Prestor, the black dragon Onyxia in disguise, who was later killed by a bunch of adventurers. The Alliance and Horde joining forces to charge through the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands and invade Outland, seemingly killing the corrupt Demon Hunter Illidan and dealing a serious blow to the Burning Legion. The conflict with the Lich King starting up again, which lead to that bastard dying too. Bolvar Fordragon, one of the best paladins in the world, becoming the new Lich King and singlehandedly confining the Scourge to Northrend so they can't hurt anyone else. The Dragon Aspect of Earth, Neltharion, going insane due to Old God corruption and becoming Deathwing, singlehandedly wrecking the world in a global Cataclysm and throwing the elements themselves out of balance. He ended up dead too (sensing a pattern here?). To be honest, part of me wanted to stay on the island, and get away from this idiotic war. But I needed to know if what was left of my family were alright. I wanted to see what had become of the world I left behind for so long in my absence. And, with my newfound powers, to do something about all of these crises. I wouldn't get another chance thanks to Su's endless moping. I needed to go with them.
But, the pandaren heart is also perhaps filled with a small amount of wanderlust too. Several monks on the island wanted to join one of these two factions. Now, there are also two dominant schools of Wandering Isle thought: The Tushui (who valued meditation, rigorous discipline, inner peace, etc), and the Huojin (who, rather than try to attain inner peace, valued action over words and thought that allowing something terrible to happen by inaction was just as bad as doing it yourself). I gravitated towards the Huojin...but that was before it turned out that the Tushui were going largely to the Alliance and the Huojin were going to the Horde! And since what I call the Great Race War was still on, going with the Huojin would be suicide! So, I went to the Alliance ship in a very un-Tushui-like rage, and three weeks later found myself back in Stormwind, not only out of place among my fellow monks, but out of place among my fellow humans as well.
The first thing i did after landfall, though, was go confirm if my mother was still alive. Turned out she, and all my siblings, had been killed when the Lich King released the Plague of Undeath on Stormwind, leaving me with no-one to turn to. So, with nothing tying me to Stormwind or even the Alliance anymore beyond my species, I decided I would make good on my promise to do something about all of the apocalyptic bullshit that happened over the last few years, and make sure it could never happen again. I went out into the world as a freelance adventurer, walking the earth and making Azeroth a better place for it, one piece of loot at a time.
I beat the shit out of countless monsters and menaces in the course of my adventuring, and eventually, through my actions in the Pandaria Crisis, and the time-bending Draenor bullshit, became the Grand Master of every monk on Azeroth. And then I helped destroy the Burning Legion and free the literal creators of my planet in an epic battle with the soul of a dying world given form. Not bad for the son of a simple merchant, I guess.
Specialty: Melee Combat, Support
Level: 5
Experience: 0/50
Powers:
--> Chi Technique: Donnie can harness his Chi as a ranged attack, healing him and his allies while harming enemies. He can do this in two ways at present: Chi Burst, a ball-like projectile that travels in a 40-yard line and heals Donnie and any allies in its path relative to how much it injures enemies, and Chi Wave, a chain-projectile attack that bounces up to seven times to any target within 25 yards, dealing slight damage or significant healing to anyone it touches. These can't be spammed: Chi Burst can only be fired once every 30 seconds, and Chi Wave every 15 seconds.
--> Vivify: Donnie causes soothing green mists to appear around the target, providing a moderate heal.
--> Resuscitate: A resurrection spell that returns a soul to a corpse, bringing the target back to life with severe injuries. These need to be healed away before the target will be back to full strength. This also only works on a target that has a body left to revive, so it won't work on Galeem's minions as they turn to ash when they die.
--> Detox: A basic cure/antidote spell. A monk classic, this chi spell systematically clears all afflictions, diseases, toxins, and contaminants from the body in an instant. Harmful bacteria, viruses, poisons, and even prions will cease to exist on the spot. And because it's magic, there's no possibility of complications. This uses very little energy (or Mana if a Mistweaver is casting it), and Donnie can basically spam this as much as he wants. It has an eight-second recharge, however. Like many spells, this changes in the hands of a Mistweaver to additionally curing harmful magical effects as well.
Strengths:
--> Windwalker Monk: Donnie is a monk, one who sees the flow of chi, or life energy, in the world around him and can bend it to his will, enhancing his body and mind and enabling him to, with help, go toe-to-toe with some of the most dangerous beings in Azeroth. He is an agility-based fighter, prioritizing not getting hit over being able to take strong blows, but nevertheless the equipment he wears, looted from the bloodied corpses and glittering treasure vaults of beings far beyond mortal reckoning, is capable of withstanding much more damage than it has any right to, being enchanted and all. As a Windwalker, a melee fighter whose fists and feet are more deadly weapons than any blade, hammer, or gun, he can channel his chi into a variety of deadly (and not-so-deadly) abilities, including some healing stuff. In general, his brute strength is not to be underestimated either, considering all the times he's punched in the faces of ogres or demons four times his size wearing full plate mail with his bare hands. He is also capable of acrobatics in combat and can run at superhuman speeds using the power of the wind.
--> Adventuring Experience: Donnie has dealt with these kinds of threats before. The man has faced down all manner of apocalypse scenarios, and thus has some knowledge on fighting monsters like Galeem.
--> Renaissance Man: Donnie is a man who has mastered many trades, but Galeem's actions have wiped his memory of all but his enchanting ability. However, sitting in on a brief session of an activity he once knew how to do will jog his memory, and he will regain his knowledge at Journeyman level, representing an average member of trade. With some practice in the proper trade, he will get back to where he was. Skills unlocked will be considered portions of this ability and thus must be unlocked through roleplay, not as level rewards.
--> Enchanting: Donnie has some talent with the arcane, and can enhance weapons and armor with various enchantments to improve their performance. He has the necessary reagents on him to do so, though they can run out. Keep in mind that his enchantments will be restricted by his level, and will only reveal their full power as the person wearing the item levels up. The enchantment cannot be removed without destroying the item, though it can be changed. (Not sure if I should keep this, since it doesn't really fit the criteria for a strength. It's more of an out-of-combat utility thing than a passive bonus, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to get more enchanting supplies in this game.) THIS SKILL IS AT MAX LEVEL, AS DONNIE STARTED THE GAME WITH IT.
--> Cooking: In his world, Donnie was a master cook, taking all kinds of wildlife he'd killed in his adventures and making provisions out of them. While Galeem wiped his knowledge of cooking clean, observing the Toads at Peach's castle has jogged his memory, leaving him at Journeyman level.
--> Cooking: In his world, Donnie was a master cook, taking all kinds of wildlife he'd killed in his adventures and making provisions out of them. While Galeem wiped his knowledge of cooking clean, observing the Toads at Peach's castle has jogged his memory, leaving him at Journeyman level.
Weaknesses: (Faults, flaws, inabilities, and so forth. Nobody's perfect)
--> The Bigger they Are, the Harder they Fall: Donnie is used to being able to punch out things twenty times his size, heal the sick, and revive the dead (at least within limits). None of these are available now, and that last part is going to hurt. Without his old powers, and without the promise of being able to be revived should he fall, a lot of his previous battle experience will be moot. He hasn't been this weak for a long, long time, and seriously has to adjust to this.
--> The Good Life is a Hell of a Drug: Donnie is a bit of a hedonist, honestly. The Pandaren way of life, while based on real-life Buddhist principles of reducing suffering in the world, was chiefly designed to prevent the sha from returning. The sha, the murderous incarnations of negative emotions, would wreak havoc if widespread negativity was allowed to exist on the continent of Pandaria. This resulted in the locals living life to the fullest and doing whatever they could to keep themselves and each other happy. This spread to the Wandering Isle, and has left Donnie both gluttonous and fond of drink.
Spirits: None yet, except for maybe his own chi.
Kindred Spirits:
--> Doyle (Blazing Chrome): Donnie's an engineer by trade. Doyle's a hyper-advanced robot, and a genuine hero in his own right. It's only natural that should they meet, they'd get along swimmingly.
--> Sonny (Sonny, mobile version): The amnesiac zombie known as "Sonny" would hit Donnie's heartstrings rather severely, due to the existence of the Forsaken, a group of free-willed, sapient undead who were freed from the Lich King's control, only to be rejected as monsters by their still-living human kin. Donnie would have a lot of sympathy for the poor man, and they'd probably get along excellently as ass-kicking buddies.
--> Arthas: Arthas Menethil, the Lich King. Donnie has history with this bastard. It was Arthas who singlehandedly destroyed the Kingdom of Lordaeron and made humanity an endangered species. It was Arthas who unleashed the Plague of Undeath on Stormwind. It was Arthas who took his family with that foul concoction, necessitating that they be put down by the city guard. And Donovan couldn't lift a finger to stop him, spending that time training on the Wandering Isle while other adventurers fought and bled to storm Icecrown Citadel and end the Lich King's life. Donnie, as the leader of all monks, must set an example to others, and thus he is above such petty concepts as revenge. But if Arthas has shown his face here? Donnie will not hesitate to pound him into the dirt and throw him off the highest point of his wretched palace, if only to end his reign of terror.
Inventory:
--> Fists of the Heavens: A legendary artifact of unspeakable power, these handblades were forged by the tol'vir (basically, cat-people) smith Irmaat, who sought to create the most powerful weapon imaginable. In his hubris, he sought to charge the handblades with power by using a ritual to siphon Elemental Air from Al'Akir, the then-most powerful air elemental in Azeroth, and ruler of the Elemental Plane of Air. However, Al'Akir foresaw this possibility and, knowing that Irmaat was attempting to steal that which he could not control, sabotaged Irmaat's masterpiece; Al'Akir purposely poured far more power into the handblades than they could handle, making the energy within so chaotic and volatile that anyone who wielded the newly-made Fists of the Heavens would be torn apart in the ludicrously-powerful storm that would ensue. When Irmaat, not knowing this and believing that he had done the impossible, foolishly tried to wield the Fists, the explosion of pure elemental power obliterated both him and the entire city he lived in.
Later, after Al'Akir's death during the Cataclysm, the resulting power vacuum in the Plane of Air instigated a civil war among several powerful air elementals. One of them, Typhinus, tracked down the dormant Fists of the Heavens, and being an air elemental himself, was able to control them well enough to win the war with the power they gave him. But controlling such chaotic energies for so long gradually eroded away his sanity, eventually leaving the djinn both completely insane and with the power to obliterate anyone who stood up to him.
Grandmaster Lee and a close ally, Li Li Stormstout, desiring a weapon powerful enough to stand up against the heavyweights of the Burning Legion following Sargeras' latest invasion of Azeroth, travelled to the Elemental Plane of Air, tracked Typhinus down, and killed him, taking the handblades. Because monks must achieve inner balance and harmony of spirit in the course of their training, Donnie could truly control the Fists of the Heavens, succeeding where both Irmaat and Typhinus failed.
The Fists of the Heavens amplify Donnie's abilities dramatically. As the Fists act as a massive reservoir of raw elemental air, it is much easier for him to dodge while using them, increasing his agility even further levels. Techniques such as Touch of Death are dramatically amplified to have a much higher chance to kill, Touch of Karma now heals Donnie proportionally to how much damage it redirects, Fists of Fury briefly generates eight wind-based clones of Donnie that each have equal amounts of power to the genuine article, and in general, Donnie has far more energy while using them and can thus use his more powerful techniques more often and with less physical cost.
So, to summarize: The Fists of the Heavens act as a stamina-booster, a "tank" of Elemental Air that can thus augment Windwalker techniques in various ways, and, through infusing its wearer with Elemental Air, make Donnie much harder to hit.
Unfortunately, the above information is completely useless. Galeem's mass Isekai event sharply limited the Fists' power. While they still do enhance Donnie's abilities, the boost is less "endgame raid level," and more "Baby's First Magical Weapon" level. This also means that anyone can wield them right now, since their power is restrained enough that it won't wipe out a city or drive the wielder insane. As Donnie levels up, they will slowly start to gain their original power back, and it'd be advised not to steal them when that process finishes.
--> Xuen's Battlegear: A full set of leather(?) armor obviously crafted along Pandaren lines, infused with the power of the Pandaren Wild God Xuen, the White Tiger. As such, it is monstrously powerful, granting Donnie dramatically-enhanced agility (including reflexes), the ability to strike and use chi techniques much more quickly than a human should be able to, dramatically increases Donnie's strength to superhuman levels, hugely improves his intellect, and greatly enhances Donnie's ability to see and exploit an enemy weakpoint or repair someone's chi faster than normal. Of course, it's also an absurdly-powerful set of magical armor from a high-fantasy world and probably made out of pure Bullshittium, so it's sufficient to protect against most sources of damage at least partly, be it falling from the sky, getting shot in the chest, getting caught in an explosion (magical or otherwise), being set on fire, being hit with a blast of pure Void magic, getting caught in a particularly-nasty Frostbolt, or getting stepped on by a Fel Reaver.
Like with the Fists of the Heavens, this information is also somewhat worthless. The armor's magic is sealed, rendering it closer to a more conventional suit of magical armor than something outright legendary. As Donnie levels up, its full power will gradually be released.
--> Madman's Luggage: A bizarre, possibly-magical, possibly-eldritch carry-on, wheeled backpack (in Azeroth's traditional medieval/Victorian/steampunk aesthetic) sold to Donnie by a raving lunatic smack-dab in the center of Dalaran for the low, low price of 500,000 gold pieces, necessitating that Donnie make multiple trips to the bank just to carry the gold needed to pay for it. Defying all logic, it is vastly bigger on the inside than on the outside. In a pinch, if you can fit through the opening, you and five friends can use the handy vents Donnie had added to spend all day inside in the event of inclement weather, as it's as big inside as a studio apartment. It's stored...a lot of stuff. Everything from entire sets of magical armor, to several absurdly-dangerous or even legendary weapons, a ludicrous amount of food, water, ingredients, and enchanting supplies, multiple severed heads, animal trophies, demon parts, Old God parts, elemental parts, Voidlord parts, dragon bones, enough gold coins to fill three banks...it has always been very well-stocked. He has also enchanted it further to be dismissable and summonable with a thought, appearing out of thin air whenever he wants it.
Currently filled with:
--> Several hundred pounds of food, water, cooking ingredients/supplies, enchanting supplies, engineering supplies, survival equipment, general adventuring supplies (including potions), etc.
--> A month's worth of clothes
--> Toiletries
--> Camping equipment
--> A tremendous quantity of gold, silver, and copper coins.
--> Every mount Donnie owns, including the reins of an armored war gryphon (which summons the real deal on command), a Gnomish "World Spinner" rocket, a Dwarven flying machine, the head of the Titan-forged Mechagnome Mimiron (converted into a small aircraft with a convertible roof), the list goes on. However, he is most likely to use the Disc of the Red Cloud, an engraved, magical frisbee-like device that Donnie can ride like Goku's flying Nimbus. He can summon all of these mounts through enchantments (or however the hell WoW adventurers make fifteen-foot-tall dragons appear out of thin air). He also owns the Champion's Treadblade, an Alliance-themed motorcycle and perhaps one of the only times he's ever shown Stormwind Pride. Oh, and he's got the reins to an armored war-tiger, but he'd rather go with the bike any day.
--> Hearthstone: Hearthstones are rare, magically-augmented stones capable of warping the user back to wherever the user sets as their "home" once an hour, which in Donnie's case is whatever inn he stayed at last. This particular hearthstone is set to the Gilded Rose Inn, Trade District, Stormwind City. It also...probably won't work properly when trying to cross universes, so it's best not to use it until Donnie can set its location to a place in this universe.