Born under an exceedingly mundane family, Larethah's parents were not renowned amongst the Draenei. Her mother went by the name of Naravelii, and at the very least, was a healer that would stay behind the front-lines, and tend to the wounded. While she was not a person that would be revered throughout Draenei culture, the sick and wounded she tended to would offer naught but praise. The father, born with the name Dahnoran, did not have even that to his name, with his taciturnity leading to his relationships being purely concerned with business. That being said, despite his personality not leaving a more positive impression upon those who he consorted with, he is not without merit. His duty to the Draenei people was to hunt in the surrounding wilds, bringing back his bounty that would then be given to the most hungry, the most deserving, and would go to great lengths to ensure that his catch would be given to those who needed it most.

It was during such an occasion, where Dahnoran was giving unto a low-born family the butchered flesh of his freshest kill, along with it's fur and hide, that a more distinguished military captain was accosting him for not readily procuring the animal's spoils for the soldiers. After handing the flesh to the hungry Draenei, with him imploring the mother of the household, to which he was delivering, to promptly close the house's door, so that what would happen next would not perhaps be as unnerving to hear. Having had enough of the soldier's bloviating, Dahnoran turned to face him, and in his stride, came to have less than an inch between their faces, one staring at the other. This lasted for but a moment, with Dahnoran then beginning an insulting tirade, that first was quiet, betraying the venom behind the words, but soon became thunderous once the captain began retorting.

As the exchange reached it's zenith, the two coming to blows seeming inevitable, Naravelii made herself known, having spied the whole ordeal after leaving a neighbouring house that belonged to one of her ill patients. Knowing full well what was said during the exchange, she stands shoulder to shoulder with the hunter, and reinforces every word that he said in defiance of the captain. With no leeway being gained by the officer, and solidarity having been formed between the hunter and the healer, the confrontation soon ended, with him then turning tail and forgoing his pride; his dignity having been lost the moment he sought that which would sustain the hungry.

As the months and years went by, the two would make a habit of seeing each other when circumstances permitted, and each one helping the other with their occupation when the opportunity arose, for both found solace in assisting each other during the dire times marked by the Orcs dominating their land. This relationship eventually culminated, with them both developing mutual love for each other, which in turn led to the conception of Larethah.

Due to the mother’s line of work, she could not keep her child with her past the small allowance of time permitted to her, so that she would raise the infant to be no more than two years of age. With each passing day, the Orcs drew nearer, their numbers swelling, and the attacks becoming more frequent. With more being required of her, the visits paid to her child and partner soon dwindled, and it came to be that their child was wholly dependent upon Dahnoran.

Unfortunately, several years later, it came to pass that Naravelli would die, caught in the midst of an Orcish assault upon her station where the wounded were being tended to, and the dying given a modicum of comfort. How quickly she died, none lived to tell, all that was reported to the Draenei was that the front line had fallen, and a new one had to be drawn.

It was several months after her death that it reached the ears of her partner, and what little communication he did make with others, became a relic of the past, with him having turned almost entirely mute. At most, when he would play with his daughter after the day’s hunting, when the sun had fallen too low to provide adequate sight, he would occasionally chuckle in hushed tones, amused by his offspring’s antics.

Once she had reached the age of seven, four years since the death of her mother, Larethah was given permission to follow and observe her father as he worked, supposing the reports of Orcish activity detailed them having not neared the area for some time. With their safety being more concrete, that would be when the father would take his daughter with him, and teach her what he knew. Though he would not talk, he did show and demonstrate, making sure to hold her attention whilst doing so.

This would not last for long. The Orcs continued to brazenly progress through Draenei territory, leaving destruction in their wake. Due to the devastation incurred, wildlife grew scarce, with the animal population having dwindled either due to fleeing the war-torn lands, or having died due to the eradication of their habitat. Dahnoran would spend far more time in search of food, as well as having expanded the range in which he would hunt, with little to show for his increased effort. Not only did he come up short in regards to feeding his fellows, but his well-intentioned obsession left his daughter behind, paying little attention to her outside of ensuring that she was, at the very least, sheltered and as well as a child can be during a calamitous war.

Expanding the area within which he would hunt, would be that which would lead to his demise. For it was due to that fact, that he would happen upon an Orcish warband, intent to ravage the settlement in which his daughter dwelt, and they would promptly discover him. But he did not die a meaningless death by their hands, rather, since he was able to discover them, and had anticipated the potentiality of encountering Orcs, he fired an arrow into the sky that arced over the town, emblazoned with shining magic. A mere moment later, he would perish, but his efforts revealed to the garrison stationed within the settlement the arrival of the Orcs, and their location.

Though their finest warriors stood at the ready to meet this onslaught, they were far outnumbered. In terms of skill perhaps they were evenly matched, but not so in experience, with there having been few occasions where more than a mere scouting party was engaged with. The youngest Draenei fled, as they were directed to, with every man and woman doing whatever they can to buy even a second more time for the children to flee.

The town burned, the Draenei were slaughtered, and the Orcs only lost a small number.

Nine years had passed since then, with the children that originally fled that massacre having been taken into the outskirts bordering the heartland of Draenei society, sheltering them from the frontier which was now, at this point, engulfed in warfare that was at most pyrrhic when in their favour. Having lost their homes, their mothers and fathers, older sisters and brothers, the children, though unscathed physically, were not so undamaged emotionally. As is to be expected, after all, of innocents that saw their loved ones perish, especially when those that bore witness are children.

Having matured into a fledgling of a woman, Larethah had reached the age of twenty, younger than most of her peers, and a mere toddler in the eyes of the venerable. Be that as it may, she would find herself falling in love with the man by the name of Haurakahn who’s home she shared, following the arrival of the refugees. At first she was devastated, after all, she had lost everything she had ever held dear. But when her thoughts were dark, he was there to comfort her. When she cried, he would dry her tears. When she cursed the world, he would listen, and lend her his ear.

And as the years went by, she became more besotted with him. The feelings were not returned, for she was more an individual for which he had a duty, and felt responsibility towards, and as such, nurtured her as if she was family. And to him, eventually, she was. Knowing that this love would not blossom, she asked of him a platonic relationship, which came to be more a close mentorship.

So a year was spent together, and Larethah had made great strides in overcoming her traumas, which indeed ran deep. She was at first sullen and of very few words, somewhat reminiscent of her father, but not due to a change in personality. Rather, she was saddened and without comradeship, leaving her feeling despair and equally dark anger. But this would change, and, slowly but surely, she came to be more talkative, cheery, and willing to engage with others.

Wishing to be of help to those around her, for it was not solely upon the shoulders of a single man that she relied upon in order to heal her wounds and find her place, she would apply herself to wherever help was needed, and would repeatedly endeavour towards becoming proficient in combat, so that she may protect rather than flee and suffer loss yet again.

Physical combat was not suited to her, for her frame was short and small due to the lack of nourishment during her childhood, due in no small part to the war that was waged not far enough from her place of birth. So instead she applied herself to more magical arts, and while a small number of results came to be, she had no talent for intellectual pursuits. Those around her that did, would quickly overcome all the progress that took her months upon months of dedication, within a single month at the most. Pursuing this any further would not be yield much else, with her then turning towards more laborious tasks, rather than fruitlessly pursuing might.

Over time, she slowly learned the basics of various crafts, to the point that she can perform repairs, touch up blemishes, and can cook a small variety of foods. But, as she broadened her scope too wide, she never became proficient in a given occupation, instead being a minor jack of all trades, but far from being a professional in any fashion.

Alas, the peace was not to last, with the reach of the Orcish horde expanding ever further. Whilst Larethah was out, walking along the embankment that runs parallel to the city’s walls with Haurakahn in tow, several arrows flew towards them. One struck Larethah in her right shoulder, with another finding it’s mark, landing directly in the center of Haurakahn’s temple. His body swayed for a moment, before tumbling to the ground, twitching and squirming.

Having seen her lover perish right before her eyes, she begins to tremble. For a moment, it’s only a slight shiver, but then it quickly progresses into that which would, in appearance, be an extreme seizure. Her mouth is hanging wide open, her lips trembling in accordance to the rest of her body. She lurches forward, as if to scream, but not a sound comes out. Tears proceed to stream down her face in droves. Slowly, her left arm reaches out towards his dead body, the shaking subsiding gradually the closer she comes to him.

Around the corner, from the nearby open gate, a Draenei soldier rushes towards her, having witnessed the initial flurry of arrows. Brandishing a large shield, he positions himself in front of her, picks her up with one arm, returning quickly to the gateway he came from. The shield soaks up many of the arrows, but not all of them, with several finding their mark and embedding themselves into his back.

With Larethah in tow, the soldier makes it past the entryway, with the gate being lowered as he approaches. Once they both had crossed into the city, the gate was promptly left to fall quickly into the ground. Their safety guaranteed for the moment, the soldier releases Larethah, and falls forward, his knees and palms planted onto the ground, his head hanging from his shoulders as he gasps in pain.

Turning his head to his left, he takes in the visage of the young Draenei woman. Her eyes are darting back and forth, her breaths deep and rapid, and her body continuing to tremble. Speaking softly, he tries to garner her focus, but to no avail. With words not being able to reach her, he yells out to his fellow soldiers, and calls for one to come to him.

After a fleeting pause, another soldier joins them, and is instructed by the wounded male to take Larethah to the other side of the city, where the other civilians are to coalesce, in anticipation of an exodus in response to the danger posed to the populace. Heeding the orders of his superior, the soldier nods in affirmation, tenderly approaches the woman, and carries her upon his back, her arms slumped over his shoulders.

Moving as fast as his feet would carry him, the soldier soon happened upon the growing number of fleeing citizens, and came to stop once he came close. He crouched to the ground, and, slowly, had his charge leave his back and stand upon her own two feet, with her now having had time to calm herself and regain her focus.

Her breathing, while still deep, had slowed to a more acceptable rate, and her trembling had greatly reduced in severity, though she did still shake. The soldier rose up, and turned to face her, slowly putting his right hand on her corresponding shoulder, to reassure her. She would motion to speak, moving forward slightly, but no words would come out. Shaking her head from side to side slightly, she then attempts to speak. And again, no words come. The soldier lets out a pained, sympathetic smile, and tells her that it is alright. He points to the crowd, and tells her that she should stay close to them, and so long as she does that, she will be safe.

His duty having been fulfilled, the soldier returned to the front gate, to fight alongside his fellows. Not long after, with the walls soon to be overwhelmed, the civilians that had gathered set out from the city, moving into the lands that were further away from the Orcish horde.

This same scenario would repeat for over ten years, with each bastion of the Draenei civilization falling, their population dwindling. And it came to a point, not too long after Larethah reached fourty years of age, that the Draenei could last no longer, and enacted the Planeshift, in order to escape what would otherwise be their certain destruction.

Having lost their land, their loved ones, their culture, and all that they had achieved as a people, it was not uncommon for the weaker willed among them to fall into despair and depression. For all they had, had been lost to the Orcs. Larethah was no exception, and, in combination with her trauma, she became a recluse that did little else but dwell entirely within the shelter given to her, seldom leaving, and very rarely engaging with others.

As a couple years went by, with the remnants of the Draenei race having found a foothold in the world that is Azeroth, efforts were made by the more mentally sound to begin healing the scars that run deep within their people. Gently, yet actively, engaging with the withdrawn. Helping the maimed to walk, and coming together to parent the young that had lost their guardians.

Thus, though there were many who were still damaged, they came to be more emotionally well, and those that had disengaged from others, soon came out from their shell and began interacting with the rest of Draenei society, albeit with the vestiges of what once was. And Larethah, still holding onto her trauma, exhibited this behaviour. Though she did not talk unless necessary, and when she did, she was as curt as her father, if not more so, she made sure to help others when the need arose, and to make herself useful by providing labour that gravitated towards menial tasks.

Though she had lost her home, her family, and her lover, she still had her people.