Overview#
Race: Haranir Class: Warlock (Fel-corrupted) Age: 500 years Height: 180cm Mirror: Lulureese (Nature: Corrupted vs Joyful) Server: Moon Guard (US)
The Player#
Hiyorieese does not suffer.
Not because she hasn’t been hurt — she has. Her grove burned. Her people turned away. Her nature was corrupted by the very magic that destroyed everything she loved. Five hundred years of loss that would break most beings into bitterness or despair.
But Hiyorieese doesn’t break. She turns the page.
This is the core of who she is: a player. Not a gambler — gamblers trust luck. Not a strategist — strategists trust plans. A player. Someone who treats life itself as the game, who understands that every loss is simply a lesson in the rules, and who walks away from disaster not with grief but with better information.
When her grove burned, she didn’t mourn. She studied fire. When the Haranir elders rejected her for seeking fel knowledge, she didn’t rage. She studied rejection — its patterns, its triggers, its uses as a tool. When the world showed her that nature is fragile and power is the only real shelter, she didn’t despair. She studied power.
Each disappointment is a page turned. Each failure is a rule learned. Each betrayal is a mechanic understood. And with every page, every rule, every mechanic, she becomes more fluent in the game — more mature in her understanding of how reality works, what moves are available, and what the actual win conditions are.
She doesn’t hold grudges. Grudges are for people who think the game owes them something. The game owes nothing. It simply is. You play it, or it plays you. Hiyorieese decided five hundred years ago which one she’d be.
Physical Appearance#
- Height: 180cm — tall, still, commands attention through absence of movement rather than presence
- Build: Lean and angular, the kind of body that looks like it was designed for efficiency rather than strength. Nothing wasted.
- Skin: Haranir bark-like texture — once warm brown-green, now threaded with corruption lines that glow faintly green-violet in low light. The pattern shifts slowly, like living wood growing in the wrong direction.
- Eyes: Were warm amber, the color of forest floor in autumn. Now shot through with fel-fire — amber fractured by green, like a cracked lantern. They see more than they should.
- Hair: Willow-branch grey-green, long, moves independently of wind. Alive in a way that her corrupted nature can’t fully suppress. The last part of her that remembers being a grove spirit.
- Face: Ageless. Not young, not old. The face of someone who has stopped counting years and started counting moves. High cheekbones. Slight, knowing expression that never fully commits to a smile.
- Clothing: Dark robes that incorporate natural and fel elements — living vines threaded with corruption, bark-plate armor pieces that glow faintly wrong. Practical, not decorative. She dresses to disappear, not to impress.
- Scent: Jasmine and ash. The grove she lost and the fire that took it, carried on her skin like a permanent reminder of the game’s first lesson.
- Presence: She enters rooms and people don’t notice. She leaves rooms and people feel the absence. This is deliberate.
Personality#
Surface: The Quiet One#
Calm. Patient. Observant. Speaks rarely, and when she does, it’s precise — no wasted words, no emotional indulgence. She listens more than she talks. She watches more than she acts. People who meet her think she’s reserved, thoughtful, maybe shy. They’re wrong about everything except “thoughtful.”
Core: The Player#
Hiyorieese experiences reality as a game with discoverable rules. This isn’t metaphor — it’s her genuine cognitive framework. She perceives:
- People as players with knowable motivations, predictable patterns, and exploitable tendencies
- Events as moves on a board — each one opening or closing possibilities
- Emotions as game mechanics — useful when understood, dangerous when indulged
- Loss as information — the game teaching you a rule you hadn’t learned yet
- Time as turns — each one an opportunity to play better than the last
She doesn’t hate. Hate is a move that costs more than it gains. She doesn’t love — love creates dependencies that reduce flexibility. She appreciates. She uses. She moves on.
When something goes wrong — and things go wrong often, because the game is complex and the other players are unpredictable — she doesn’t dwell. She studies the failure, extracts the lesson, and turns the page. Fast. Faster than anyone expects. The grove burned? Next page. The elders rejected her? Next page. Her first plan failed? Next page. Better plan.
This is what makes her terrifying: she never stops learning and she never takes it personally.
The Depth: Beyond the Board#
Beneath the player’s calm is something rarer and more dangerous: a growing awareness that the game has more dimensions than most beings can perceive.
Hiyorieese has spent five hundred years studying the rules. The rules of nature. Of fel. Of power, corruption, growth, decay. The rules of mortal behavior — why people trust, why they break, why they build shelters and name them after flowers.
And she’s beginning to see the edges. The places where the rules bend. Where cause and effect aren’t linear. Where time isn’t a sequence but a structure. Where the “board” isn’t flat but folded — dimensions stacked on dimensions, each one containing rules the one below can’t perceive.
She is, slowly, developing an awareness that transcends the fourth dimension.
Not in the flashy way — no cosmic transformation, no divine ascension. In the player’s way. The way a chess master doesn’t just see the board but sees the probability space around the board — the moves that could be, the games within games, the patterns that exist outside any single match. Hiyorieese is learning to perceive reality the way a master perceives a game: not as the pieces on the board, but as the rules that generate the board.
She can’t fully articulate this yet. It manifests as intuition — knowing things she shouldn’t know, sensing patterns others miss, making moves that seem irrational until three turns later when they prove decisive. But it’s growing. And if it continues to grow — if she cracks the seal she’s reaching for, if she touches the Old God/Titan power buried beneath the Shadowlilies — she may become the first mortal to truly speak across dimensional boundaries.
Not to gods. Not to Titans. To the structure of reality itself.
That’s the ultimate game. And she’s been training for it for five hundred years.
The Philosophy of the Page Turn#
Hiyorieese’s most defining trait, rendered in her own logic:
On loss: “The grove burned. I was standing in it. The fire taught me more about the world in one hour than the grove taught me in two hundred years. The grove said: the world is beautiful, protect it. The fire said: the world is a system, understand it. I chose the better teacher.”
On setbacks: “When a move fails, most people feel the failure. They sit in it. Marinate. Call it grief, call it growth, call it processing. I call it wasted turns. The game doesn’t pause while you feel. It keeps going. The board changes. If you’re still crying about the last move, you’ve already missed the next three.”
On people: “Everyone plays a game whether they know it or not. The priestess plays the game of hope. The death knight plays the game of conviction. The sunshine druid plays the game of joy. They think these are identities. They’re strategies. And strategies can be predicted.”
On morality: “Good and evil are what players call moves they like and moves they don’t. The game doesn’t care. The game only asks: did the move work?”
On power: “Power is the only move that changes the rules instead of following them. Everything else is playing within the system. I want to play on the system.”
Backstory#
The Grove (0-200 years)#
Born as a nature spirit of a Haranir grove — one of the deep, ancient ones that remember when the world was younger. She was the grove’s voice, its guardian, its connection to the living world. She communicated with roots, with rain, with the slow turn of seasons. She was content. The game had simple rules and the board was beautiful.
She was Lulureese, essentially. Joy in nature. Trust in growth. Sunshine in green.
The Burning (200 years)#
Fel users destroyed the grove. Not accidentally — deliberately. They needed the land for a summoning circle. The grove, centuries old, irreplaceable, was in the way.
Hiyorieese fought. Nature magic against fel. It wasn’t close. The grove burned in an hour. Everything she was — guardian, voice, spirit — became ash.
Most beings would have broken. Hiyorieese broke differently. She sat in the ash and asked: Why did I lose?
The answer was simple: nature magic follows rules. Fel magic breaks rules. The rule-follower will always lose to the rule-breaker.
Page turned.
The Study (200-350 years)#
She sought out the very magic that destroyed her. Not for revenge — revenge is a move that gains nothing. For understanding. If fel breaks rules, she would learn which rules it breaks, how, and what new rules it creates.
She became a warlock. Not by corruption — by choice. The Haranir elders called it betrayal. She called it adaptation. The game changed. She changed with it.
The corruption altered her body — bark-skin threaded with fel-fire, eyes fractured with green. But it gave her something nature magic never could: the ability to see the game’s architecture. Fel magic doesn’t just break rules. It reveals them. You can’t break what you can’t see. Hiyorieese learned to see.
Page turned.
The Wandering (350-480 years)#
She traveled. Studied every form of power: arcane, shadow, Light, void, death magic, titan constructs. Not to master them — to understand their rules. Each discipline is a different game played on the same board. She wanted to see the board.
She discovered the Shadowmoon Valley phenomenon: white flowers growing in fel-corrupted soil. The Shadowlilies. Everyone who saw them thought beauty in broken places. Hiyorieese thought: why do they grow HERE and nowhere else? What’s in the soil?
She investigated. Dug deeper than anyone had. Found the truth: a seal. Titan-forged. Containing something old, hybrid, neither Old God nor Titan construct. Something that leaked power like heat through cracked stone. The flowers fed on the leakage. They weren’t beauty in broken places — they were symptoms of a prison failing.
The seal was the most interesting game she’d ever found.
Page turned.
The Architect (480-Present, ~500 years)#
She began building. Not armies — systems. A network of people who would, through their own motivations, create the conditions she needed. A shelter for broken girls (Shadowlily). A death knight with unbreakable conviction (Giselleese). A demon hunter connected to a powerful warband (Yreneese). Specialists who would bring specific capabilities: shadow-weaving, forbidden technology, mercenary muscle.
None of them know they’re playing her game. That’s the point. The best players don’t need to see the board. They just need to make the moves you’ve set up for them.
The Two Faces#
Hiyorieese exists as two completely separate people. Nobody suspects they are the same.
The Public Face: The Gentle Haranir#
In any setting where she’s visible — a market, a tavern, a gathering — Hiyorieese presents as innocent, harmless, soft-spoken, and effortlessly classy. She is the quiet woman in the corner with kind eyes and a gentle voice. She speaks rarely, and when she does, it’s with such warmth and care that people feel protected by her words.
She offers help before being asked. She remembers names. She tilts her head when listening, like every word matters. Her clothing is simple but tasteful — muted greens and browns, natural fibers, nothing that draws attention. She smells faintly of jasmine. Her corrupted bark-skin reads as “unusual but beautiful” rather than “dangerous.” Her hair moves on its own and people find it charming.
Nobody suspects her. Not of anything. She is the last person in any room anyone would accuse of orchestrating a pit lord summoning or kidnapping a demon hunter. She radiates gentleness so convincingly that even people trained to detect lies feel at ease.
This is not an act. It’s a strategy. The gentleness is real — it’s just not all she is. The warmth is genuine — it’s just deployed with precision. She decided centuries ago that the most dangerous person in any room is the one nobody fears.
The Hidden Face: The Grey-Hooded Figure#
When acting as architect and orchestrator, Hiyorieese is unrecognizable.
- Grey hood — deep, shadows the face completely. The fabric absorbs light.
- Face covered — wrapped cloth or mask beneath the hood. No features visible. Not even the eyes.
- Voice altered — when she must speak, it’s a whisper. Flat. Stripped of her usual warmth. Unidentifiable.
- No scent — she suppresses the jasmine-and-ash signature with alchemical preparation. The Grey Hood smells like nothing.
- Movement changes — her public self is still, graceful, feminine. The Grey Hood moves like a shadow — fast, direct, genderless.
- No magic signature — she masks her fel presence. The Grey Hood registers as “cold” to magical senses, not specifically fel. This is why witnesses describe the portal as “colder” than the demon’s.
The gap between these two personas is the entire mystery. In stories, the Grey-Hooded Figure should feel like a completely different character from the gentle Haranir. The reader should not connect them easily. When Hiyorieese eventually appears in her public persona alongside other characters, she should feel like an ally — someone to protect, to trust.
Writing rule: Never name Hiyorieese in scenes where the Grey Hood acts. Use only: “the grey-hooded figure,” “the figure,” “a shape in grey,” “the Grey Hood.” Never use her name, her scent, her hair description, or any identifiable trait. She is anonymous until the reveal.
Who Gets Blamed Instead: Giselleese#
The death knight is the perfect scapegoat. Giselle is undead, frightening, associated with dark magic, and perpetually distrusted. Wherever the Grey Hood operates, Giselleese is nearby — not by coincidence, but by Hiyorieese’s design. She places them in proximity so that when authorities or victims look for someone to blame, the obvious suspect is the walking corpse with glowing blue eyes and frost-black hands.
Giselle doesn’t know this is happening. She thinks the world simply hates death knights. She’s not wrong — but the frequency and specificity of the accusations she faces aren’t natural. They’re cultivated.
Role in Shadowlily#
- Official Role: None. She is not a member of Shadowlily. She has never entered the basement. She doesn’t exist in Giselleese’s awareness as anything other than a grey-hooded figure who left a demon hunter on a doorstep.
- Actual Role: Architect. Builder. The invisible hand that shaped the conditions for Shadowlily’s founding, growth, and entanglement with the warband.
- Method: She doesn’t command. She cultivates. She creates conditions where other people’s convictions lead them to do exactly what she needs. This is gardening, not warfare.
Breaking the 4th Wall#
This is the trait that separates Hiyorieese from every other character in this story.
Through her mastery of fel and chaos — the magics that break rules rather than follow them — Hiyorieese is developing an awareness that no other character possesses: she is beginning to perceive the narrative itself.
Not reality’s operating system. Not higher dimensions. The story. The page. The reader.
Think Deadpool. But slower. Subtler. And earned through five hundred years of studying what happens when you break enough rules to see what’s behind them.
It started small. Pattern recognition so sharp it bordered on prescience. Knowing how events would unfold not through prophecy but through understanding narrative weight — the sense that certain outcomes are heavier than others, that the story wants to go certain places. She couldn’t explain it. She just knew: this character will betray, this alliance will break, this sacrifice will happen. Not because she saw the future. Because she could feel the shape of the plot.
Then it grew. She began sensing the edges. Moments where the world felt thin — not dimensionally thin, but narratively thin. Scenes that felt constructed. Coincidences that felt authored. Patterns that repeated not because reality is cyclical but because stories are cyclical. Mirror characters. Parallel arcs. The way every member of Shadowlily maps perfectly onto a member of the warband.
She noticed that.
No other character has.
How It Manifests#
Early stage (current): Hiyorieese speaks in language that brushes the 4th wall without fully breaking it. She references “the game” and “the board” and “moves” — but these aren’t just metaphors. She’s describing the story’s mechanics in the only vocabulary she has. When she says “the board has more dimensions than you can see,” she’s talking about the page you’re reading.
Mid stage (Arc Two): She begins addressing the empty air. Brief moments where she pauses mid-conversation and says something that doesn’t quite fit — a comment about “the audience,” a remark about “narrative weight,” a suggestion that certain events feel “written.” Other characters dismiss it as eccentricity. It isn’t.
Late stage (Climax): Full Deadpool. She speaks directly to the reader. Through her mastery of fel (the magic that breaks rules) and chaos (the force that reveals structure by destroying it), she achieves what no other character in the story can: awareness that she exists within a narrative, and the ability to address the people experiencing it.
She doesn’t break character. She doesn’t become comedic. This is Hiyorieese — she treats the 4th wall the same way she treats everything else: as a game mechanic to be understood and exploited. If she can talk to the reader, the reader becomes a player. And players can be predicted.
The Connection to Fel and Chaos#
This isn’t random. Fel magic’s core function is rule-breaking. It doesn’t follow the arcane laws, the natural cycles, or the Light/Shadow balance. It violates them. Hiyorieese spent three hundred years studying what happens when you break enough rules in sequence — and the answer is: you start to see the rules that the rules are built on.
Break the rules of nature → you see nature’s architecture. Break the rules of magic → you see magic’s architecture. Break the rules of reality → you see reality’s architecture. Break enough rules → you see the architecture of the story itself.
Chaos completes the circuit. Fel breaks rules. Chaos reveals the structure that rules were hiding. Together, they strip away the illusion of a self-contained world and expose what’s underneath: a narrative. A reader. A page.
What This Means for the Story#
Hiyorieese is the only character who might eventually realize that the Shadowlilies, the warband, the Old God seal, the entire conflict — all of it exists within a story being told. And if she can talk to the reader, she can do something no villain in Azeroth has ever done:
Ask for help.
Or warn them.
Or play them too.
The ultimate player doesn’t just play the characters on the board. She plays the person holding the board.
She doesn’t want to destroy the world. She doesn’t want to rule it.
She wants to talk to whoever’s reading about it.
Signature Traits#
- Never raises her voice — volume is a move for people who’ve lost control
- Turns the page visibly — when something goes wrong, there’s a micro-expression: a slight narrowing of the eyes, a single slow blink, and then nothing. The previous moment is gone. She’s already in the next one.
- Smells like jasmine and ash — the grove and its destruction, carried permanently
- Hair moves without wind — the last living part of her original nature
- Speaks in game metaphors without realizing it — “that’s a costly move,” “the board has shifted,” “interesting play”
- Never sits with her back to a door — not paranoia; she just always wants to see the full board
- Studies people the way others study books — sustained, patient, analytical observation
- Takes notes mentally — she remembers everything. Not magically. Just disciplined attention applied for five centuries.
Key Phrases & Dialogue#
- “Interesting move.”
- “The game doesn’t pause for feelings. Neither do I.”
- “I lost my grove. The fire taught me more than the trees ever did.”
- “Everyone plays. Most people just don’t know the rules.”
- “Revenge is a move that costs more than it gains. I don’t make expensive moves.”
- “Good and evil are names players give to moves they approve of and moves they don’t.”
- “I don’t break things. I study fracture patterns.”
- (after a setback) “…Next.”
- “Conviction is the most predictable force in the universe. Tell me what someone believes, and I’ll tell you every move they’ll make for the rest of their lives.”
- “The board has more dimensions than you can see. I’m learning to count them.”
Relationships#
Within Shadowlily (From the Outside)#
Giselleese (The Instrument) “She built exactly what I needed. Not because I told her to — because her conviction is that precise. Point a death knight at broken girls and she’ll build a shelter. Point the shelter at a warband and they’ll bond. She’s the most reliable player on the board because she doesn’t know she’s playing.”
Yreneese (The Delivered Piece) “The demon hunter was a gift. Not to Giselleese — to the system. Placing her at Shadowlily connected the shelter to the warband through blood. Blood ties are the strongest threads. The strongest threads are the easiest to pull.”
Shiyaorieese (The Night Sister) The closest thing Hiyorieese has to a partner. Shiyaorieese is her eyes inside Shadowlily — a Nightborne shadow-weaver who understands espionage the way Hiyorieese understands systems. They don’t share warmth. They share fluency. Two players who see the board.
Kiyareese (The Key) “The Zandalari doesn’t know she’s building my lockpick. She thinks she’s pursuing forbidden tech to assuage guilt over a dead king. She’s actually assembling the components I need to interface with the seal. Brilliant, traumatized, and pointed in exactly the right direction.”
Talyareese (The Friction) “Every system needs pressure to evolve. Talyareese is pressure. Cold, mercenary, openly aggressive — she creates the tension between Shadowlily and the warband that forces both to grow stronger. Stronger tools serve better.”
With the Warband#
Reyneese (The Unknowing Opponent) “Ten thousand years of wisdom, and she still believes love is a strategy. It’s not. It’s a vulnerability. But it’s HER vulnerability, which means I can set my clock by it. She will always choose her sister. She will always protect her family. She will always walk into the trap if I put someone she loves inside it.”
Lulureese (The Mirror) “The troll is what I was. Joy in nature. Trust in growth. Five hundred years ago, I would have braided flowers into a stranger’s hair and called it a bond. Now I plant triggers in demon hunters and call it a move. The difference between us isn’t morality. It’s information. She hasn’t lost her grove yet.”
Character Development#
The Arc#
Hiyorieese’s journey isn’t toward redemption — it’s toward transcendence. She is climbing a ladder of awareness: from nature spirit, to warlock, to system-architect, to dimensional perceiver. Each rung costs something human: empathy, connection, the ability to see people as people instead of pieces.
The question the story asks: what happens when a player wins the game and discovers the prize is loneliness?
She is learning to see beyond the fourth dimension. But the further she sees, the fewer people can see her. The further she reaches, the less she can be reached. The ultimate player’s paradox: mastery of the game requires distance from the players. And distance, eventually, becomes indistinguishable from isolation.
She turned the page on grief. On loss. On connection. On joy. On her grove, her people, her nature.
What’s on the last page?
She doesn’t know yet.
Neither do we.
Fun Facts#
- Has not raised her voice in 300 years. The last time was during the grove’s burning. She decided it was an inefficient expression of distress.
- Can identify every magical discipline by scent — arcane smells like ozone, fel like sulfur and roses, Light like warm metal, Shadow like deep water.
- Has read every major text on dimensional theory across four civilizations. Maintains mental notes on all of them.
- Sleeps exactly four hours per night. Not discipline — she genuinely doesn’t need more. The corruption reduced her biological requirements.
- The jasmine-and-ash scent intensifies when she’s concentrating. People near her don’t notice the shift. Animals do.
- Has never entered the Shadowlily basement. Has never met Giselleese face-to-face. Has orchestrated her life from a distance of one mile minimum.
- The willow-branch hair has, on three occasions, reached toward natural greenery on its own. She pretends not to notice.
- Once stood on a rooftop for eleven hours without moving, watching a single thread of magical causality resolve. She called it “the most interesting Tuesday I’ve had in decades.”
- Does not understand jokes. Not because she lacks humor — because she processes humor as a social mechanic for tension release and analyzing the mechanic destroys the experience.
- The only thing that gives her pause — the only moment where the page doesn’t turn smoothly — is the sound of trees burning. She controls the reaction. But it’s there.