Character Backstories?

Lore World's End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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I’m curious what everyone’s backstories for their characters are. At least for the one they are posting with.

This one is all about her reanimation. When she was brought back she had amnesia, remembered nothing about her former life. So she was named Mortissia, (taken from Mortis which means death.)

She’s a warlock who has made deals with demons in an attempt to gain the power to learn her past. In addition she has developed a crippling addiction to fel magic. As being undead, it’s one of the few things that makes her feel good.

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I figured I’d pull out a character with an arguably more interesting backstory than the one I usually post on these days. I may still post the one for that character later, but I digress…

Sinothyr Skyfire was blacksmith in life, then named Bremuleth Autumnriver. She was obsessed with the artistry of her craft, taking as much time as she deemed necessary to ensure her work was the best it could possibly be; sometimes at the detriment of her health, and usually at the detriment of her business. Beyond that she was a Lust Murderer.

Eventually she convinced a childhood friend of hers, the original Sinothyr Skyfire, to join her in her attempt at an adventuring career; having grown tired of her failing business at home. The two had a falling out following an incident between them in the Plaguelands, causing Sinothyr to leave. In their time apart Bremuleth took to stalking Sinothyr while being stalked and tormented by a mysterious swordsman; a Death Knight. This Death Knight eventually led to Bremuleth’s demise. She was subsequently taken to Acherus and raised to contribute to the Scourge’s efforts in the area at the time.

During this time Bremuleth eventually encountered Sinothyr again. They met in battle, ending in Sinothyr’s demise; at which point Bremuleth saw fit to curse her soul and raise her as a Banshee. After breaking free of the Lich King’s influence Bremuleth took Sinothyr’s name for herself to dissociate herself from her actions while in service to the Scourge.

Since then has primarily served the Ebon Blade as a Runesmith and a frontline fighter when needed. She otherwise does as she pleases, these days often from within her adopted home in Raven Hill. As recent as the last Burning Legion invasion, Sinothyr has been seeking a means to make amends with the now freed Banshee; primarily by finding a means to replace her lost/destroyed body. One such plot for this turned into a mission to bring the original Sinothyr’s mother, a deeply hated individual from Bremuleth’s past, into the Ebon Blade.

Currently she’s researching a means to permanently bind souls together, hoping to do so with the Banshee.

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I wanted to share one more before taking a break, so here’s my ooc oldest surviving character…

Rosyllyn Montebont was orphaned along with her sister Leandra at a young age and under mysterious circumstances. After years of living in the streets of Gilneas City they were found and taken in by a local wizard, one Dante Jonston, who saw in each of them great aptitude in the arcane arts. Under Dante’s tutelage both Rosyllyn and Leandra grew to become skilled arcanist in their own right.

During the Bloodfang Worgen attacks on the city, the three each took part in the defense of the more helpless citizens. The chaos soon led to them getting separated from each other. Rosyllyn found her sister in time to see her succumb to the curse but managed then to fend her off without receiving it herself. Dante was also later found to be fine.

Following their exodus from their homeland Rosyllyn’s father soon resettled in Dalaran, having had connections there from before Gilneas’ isolation. Rosyllyn however saw fit to join the fight to reclaim Gilneas from the Forsaken, joining the Gilneas Liberation Front with Leandra in tow. As part of her participation Rosyllyn was encouraged to obtain the Worgen Curse, doing so by imbibing her sister’s blood. During her service she encountered her biological mother, one Philippa Montebont, a sorceress among the enemy’s ranks. Having learned more about her mother throughout the campaign, and overall disgusted with her, Rosyllyn chose to take the surname Montebont for herself in hopes to redeeming it from the woman who so tarnished it.

After the end of her service in the GLF, Rosyllyn took to traveling for a time; getting a taste of the adventuring life before deciding to join her father in Dalaran. In Dalaran she subsequently joined the Kirin Tor, where she now serves as a Warmage whenever the nation involves themselves in conflict.

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I tried to make a deal with the devil once. I’m still poor

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Race changed and retconned so many times I lost track.
That said, still working on his backstory as a void elf. I do have some basics I want to go with.
I know he’s VERY young. Like, he was a child when Arthas came visit Silvermoon. I want the inexperience and eagerness of youth to push him in experimenting with the void in the first place.
I also know he WAS a Blood elf, and he was a rookie farstrider.
Now he’s mostly a scholar and alchemist and act as a sellsword whenever he needs more money

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wow, cool backstories from everyone! Nice work!

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Kalithos Sunstriker was born on the outskirts of Eversong woods to a priest of the Light, Rainen Sunstriker and his wife Shandella. Growing up,he began to learn about the Light in hopes of following in his father’s footsteps where his brother Damalys decided to follow in their mother’s footsteps by becoming a farstrider to protect Quelthalas from any encroaching evil. All seemed to be going well the first twelve years of his life until his home came under attack by a band of Amani trolls who killed many including Kalithos’ parents and abducted him and a handful of children who survived the onslaught with intent on sacrificing them,which was fortunately thwarted by a band of patrolling farstriders which included Damalys in their ranks.

From that point up until the scourge invasion, Damalys had become Kalithos’ legal guardian [his estranged uncle Dorian was deemed unfit] who began to train him in basic martial defenses between his studies concerning The Light as at the time,he still wanted to become a priest like Rainen was though would find himself walking the path of the paladin when the scourge attacked Quelthelas. Damalys was presumed dead during the attack leaving young Kalithos to fend for himself until joining the city guard in hopes of finding his place in the world. While not the best patroller, he did eventually find his gift in healing when coming across a nobleman who survived an assassination attempt. A few years passed, Kalithos made his way to Northrend and joined the Argent Crusade and began to train in the means of becoming a medic and full fledged healer to aid in treating the injuries of the brave men and women who fought the scourge.

His training as a medic continued to bear fruit as he obtained his medical license as a doctor by the time he ventured into Pandaria and contributed in healing many injured during the Siege of Orgrimmar and eventually met his future husband Rethandral Sunfall who’d rescue the good doctor many a time as where he inherited the gift of healing,he inherited what felt like a curse of being prone to peril [He’s a bit of a Dude in Distress] and eventually reunited with his brother shown to be alive [I’ll post his story later :D] . To this day he’s happily married going by Kalithos Sunfall/Dr. Sunfall,treating patients and on occasion ventures throughout Azeroth dabbling in archaeology finding particular artifacts in hopes of advancing medicine.

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A veteran of the war of the ancients, a soldier that survived it all, now living in the rebuilt Night Elf nation, he decided to live a simple life, he wasn’t cut out to be a druid, he was tired of fighting, so he became a smith, crafting weapons for the Sentinels, glaives, armors. And it was a simple life for thousands of years. One day he met a Sentinel that changed his life, they had a children named Althron, and they trained that kid with weapons. Althron was a kid when the Legion invaded again, his mother fought bravely in the battle of Mt. Hyjal, but met her fate there. Raised by his father to become a good Warrior and blacksmith, he moved to Dark shore, did some mercenary work for a long time for a living, helping arrest bandits or capture enemies, until the Legion Invaded again, he did what he could to join the forces on Broken Shore, he wanted to prove himself powerful and mighty, wanted to bring some justice to the legion and wanted adventure, and so he did, was part of the Night Elven forces that helped the Nightborne rebellion on Suramar, his biggest feat, sadly unnoticed, was to slay a big Infernal by himself, but that left him injured for a long period. He was not there when the Horde attacked Dark Shore, his father died facing the Horde in the War of Thorns, Teldrassil burned and he wasn’t there. He swore Justice and joined the night elves during their efforts to retake darkshore, and now after the War, he is just resting, doing some mercenary work, waiting for what will happen next with his people.

I might have to do some revisions to that, but that is the idea of my character, a traveler that is mostly loyal to his people.

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This character had a decent backstory back when she was rolled in Cataclysm, and she’s been RP’d every expansion since then. There’s way too much to cover, so, I’m going to keep it simple.

Born on Kezan, picked up engineering skills.

Left at a young age to work on war machines, ended up not getting hired and became a barber instead.

War against the Lich King broke out, finally became a mechanic for Horde siege weapons. Sent to the squad of an Elf paladin and Senior Sergeant. Didn’t like the guy.

The guy was actually pretty hardcore, had her trained to become a demolitions expert. Blew up tons of stuff, built awesome machines, got into tons of adventures.

Now a full-fledged Horde soldier, traveled with the Senior Sergeant all over Azeroth as his aide de camp. Was trained in various Rogue skills, eventually a bargain was made and she was sent to train at Ravenholdt for two years.

Spent the majority of the time things were getting chaotic on Pandaria training with the expert Rogues. When she concluded her training, she rejoined the Senior Sergeant, now a Stone Guard. They spent the majority of the time tracking Alliance ships and looting rare treasures.

Draenor Beyond the Gate. Promoted to Sergeant. Elf promoted to General after a while. They worked together constructing a fortress tasked with managing resources and sending them to the Horde Champion’s garrison. Non-stop combat. Endless conflicts with the Iron Horde. Betrayed by allies, had to watch as the General sacrificed himself so that everyone else could escape back to Azeroth through a portal.

Spent the entirety of the final assault against the Burning Legion murdering people. Killed a lot of people that were aiding the Legion. Got a bit of a reputation. Became less spastic and more ruthless. A lot angrier after losing the General. Killed a lot of demons in exceptionally gore-tastic ways. Ended the conflict as a Blood Guard.

The Fourth War. Killed a bunch of Alliance again, spent a lot of time trying to seek retribution on SI:7 for killing her fellow Goblins for no reason. Believes firmly that SI:7 started the war after they murdered people without orders. Mounted up a large number of bodies on her kill count. After the Burning of Teldrassil, got serious doubts about Sylvy. Officially left the Horde military after Zuldazar was sacked, now firmly believes that the endless faction conflict won’t end through violent means.

Rudy now owns and operates a tavern in Winterspring. The adventurers that follow her are up to other hijinks, but she’s not helping The Horde right now.

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Copied from a previous thread:

Short version.

Raede used to be a rogue. His home, wife, and unborn child were killed during the Scourge invasion of Quel’Thalas.

He found his way to helping the Argent Crusade, where he fell in love again, this time with a female human paladin.

Regardless of faction instability the two married, vowing not to deliberately harm each other’s faction. Together they decided where they would fight, and although they tended to work for their respective factions, they would send communications to each other through a pigeon if they were doing anything that they could potentially do together.

During the Legion invasion of Outland, they were together when they were captured by demons. They were separated and she was forced to fight the local commander without armor. The demons returned to him and snapped her sword at his feet and laughed as they said she broke just like the sword.

They tortured him and left him to die.

It was the Illidari who rescued him, and swearing revenge for the death of his wife, he joined their ranks, only to soon be imprisoned in the Vault of the Wardens.

Unbeknownst to him, his wife had been rescued and resurrected in the knick of time. The years pass and he finally gets let out and heads to Dalaran, where he sees her but is afraid to let her know about his change. Eventually he summons up the courage to do so and they take some time to reconnect, working together whenever possible.

Just when they thought they could start a peaceful life in Dalaran together, Teldrassil is burnt down and the two factions were at war again. Raede allows his wife to break her word and hunt down those blindly obeying Sylvanas. He himself worked on negating the blood troll threat in Nazmir and helping out the Vulpera, avoiding conflict with Alliance whenever possible, although he found it impossible not to harm Alliance at all. If he was pressed into fighting the Alliance, he focused on mercy killing those who could not be saved.

He joined Saurfang’s rebellion when it became possible.

Now that there’s an armistice, he’s hoping that he can just have a peaceful life with his wife in Dalaran… but that remains to be seen.

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Short version: Vanaelia is old*. Born into nobility, dealt with all the strife that that entails (her, to someone mentioning growing up poor was difficult: How old were you the first time people tried to kill you? I was 8, that I remember), etc.

Old enough to have fought in the Troll Wars old. Remembers being one of the people who voted for giving humans magic. Remembers the Sunwell. She was there when Arthas destroyed Quel’thalas (and she has some fairly pointed opinions on the then Ranger General), and didn’t take too well to her people joining the Horde; in her view, this was the hub of all the ancestral and current enemies of her people.

After being appointed as a “diplomat” to Orgrimmar, she was kind of kicked out for fighting, largely because she also did it by pointing out the flaws inherent in having any dispute able to be settled by a fistfight. She jumped at the chance to study with Umbric, more because it involved getting away from orcs and trolls and so forth.

Actually rolled her eyes when Lor’themar said they shouldn’t study this dangerous magic. Like, really, darling…this is our birthright. We study magic. We’re high elves…or, at least I thought you were. Discovered some things and theories that gave her some very conflicting views regarding the fall of the Quel’thalas and Dar’Khan Drathir, thoughts that she kept to herself until she confirmed more things.

Then, you know…whoops! Void stuff!

She’s positively thrilled to be back on the side that enjoys regular showers, books, and has architecture created by people who understand that spikes aren’t necessary on buildings. And she doesn’t have to deal with trolls. Or the undead. Or orcs.

…she didn’t have any real problems with the Tauren, though.

Oh. Right. She really, really, really didn’t like being part of the Horde. She may have “accidentally” let information slip into Alliance hands that ended up specifically routing trolls, orc, and undead forces. “Wait, I was supposed to take that with me? Darling, I had no room…you see, I had to make sure I took these perfumes with me, and this mana potion, because - like you said - us spindly little elves are addicted to mana. Goodness…how many orcs died? Oh…well, that is part of the culture, right? Dying with honor? Yay! Lok’tar ogar!”

Conversely, one of her jobs was managing some of the logistics of the war effort. It was amazing how many times specifically sin’dorei fleets were unable to leave the harbor because somehow docking fees didn’t get paid. Why, those blood elves usually didn’t arrive until long after the threat had passed! It’s a shame about all those dead trolls, though.

Sips tea.

An absolute shame.

*I checked with…I think it was this forum, or the story forum. I was curious if there were any hard and fast limits on the age of elves. From what I gleaned, there’s not, really. Up until recently, they’ve functionally been immortal.

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High elf aging has been inconsistent at best. There is one blood elf in the war of thorns that was a surviving highborne of the WOTA or something like that.

The thousand years of war audio drama says that elves connected to the sunwell have something close to immortality.

But then, there is some really old elves like Kael’thas’ father.

But from what I know, your age is in the clear.

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You didn’t know, darling?

I’m 21. Today.

We’ll see how young I am tomorrow.

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I wish I could make this any shorter but…

Following the defeat of the Legion and the exodus of my Highborne masters and despite Malfurion’s amnesty for my and my brothers and sisters allegiances to the highborne, we exiled ourselves from the Ashenvale. I spent most of the last 10,000 years wandering the Barrens and the Plains of Mulgore, traveling even as far as the empty deserts of Tanaris and the savage jungles of the Un’goro Crater. But most of my time was spent in northern Kalimdor.

When man and orc landed on our shores, I returned “home.” When the legion came, I and my biological brother allied ourselves with the united front of the Horde, the humans and their allies, and the Night Elves. Following their defeat eons ago, we knew all they had to offer were lies, not power. After the battle of Mt Hyjal, my actual brother followed Illidan, seeking to continue the fight against the legion, while I stayed behind, wanting some semblance of stability after 10,000 years of wandering but my world had gone dark knowing he wouldn’t be in it any longer.

So I traveled east across the seas to the Eastern Kingdoms, to the kingdom of Stormwind, and eventually found my way to a new yet familiar place - Westfall, where I would take on the humble work of a farmhand and eventually tinkering apprentice to the resident Gnome and her harvester creations, and what I learned was her unique focus on environmental preservation. She was a little disappointed I wasn’t of the tree-growing variety of Night Elf she had heard about.

I figured I would live the next few years in peace until I got bored of it. Just myself, a Gnome, a couple other farmhands, the farmer and his young daughter.

…Who took a real interest in me. Of course she did. Elves were rare enough out here, but I was among the first Night Elves to arrive upon these shores. She also didn’t think an Elf could regularly get their hands dirty and work with greasy machines. Magic was our thing! Her words, not mine. I honestly didn’t expect to be endeared to her.

Her father passed of disease, and her mother was already long gone. The Gnome took little interest in actual farm work, preferring to continue to refine her machines to be cleaner, better, more efficient. I ended up taking over the farm for a time, at least until the young girl I found myself being a mother to was old enough to join the Stormwind Guard.

I sold the farm shortly after the Wrath Gate incident. She survived, light bless her soul, but the rest of her battalion was not so lucky. She watched as they all died while a bubble of light she subconsciously formed protected her.

It’s taken some time, but with the help of a Draenei “gravewarden,” she’s grown as a Paladin, and has come to terms with her guilt as a survivor. I know she’s not completely okay, but she’s making strides, and carrying their banner wherever it’s needed.

Today, I fight the evils of the world with her and I couldn’t be more proud of how far she has come. I will continue to meet any threat to the world, the alliance, and especially to her head on, no matter how daunting, because she is, and always will be, the light of my world.

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Fire. There was fire everywhere.

It was around midday, and we had stopped to let the Alpacas rest and drink water. I was checking to make sure our supplies where properly tied down when suddenly my fur stood on end. Something felt wrong, and then suddenly fire.

We didn’t know what was happening. One of our caravans had been set alight, and initially I feared the Sethrak where attacking us. What came next would haunt my dreams for weeks.

A giant monster of fur and claw would run through us. Ripping and tearing through us as we scattered in fear. From the sky came the thundering of wings as these giant eagles unlike anything I ever saw swooped through us, picking us up, while their riders launched bolts of lighting. Tall slim shadows would launch arrows at us, and as quick as they appeared they would dissapear again.

I did what my instincts told me to do. I hid. I buried myself in the sand, and I tried to drown out the screams of my family, the smell of singed fur, and tears that would not stop. I don’t know how much time passed, but that horrible monster found me. He lifted me by the neck, I saw nothing but a fanged filled jaw, and I whimpered and fainted.

I awoke chained to a cell, surrounded by other Vulpera from different Caravans, and they all told stories of these monsters. They would burn our homes, kill our family, then capture the rest. There where more of those fanged monsters, and the tall shadows, tall and short ones, but they where all monsters.

Time would pass. Hours into days, days into weeks, until finally they began to load us into giant ships. As I walked up to these prisons my fur once more stood on end, and suddenly an explosion rocked the ship. Suddenly from the sky more came. Giant green ones tearing through our captors. Corpses came from the sea and began to tear down the ships. A small green one set me free and armed us. Told us to fight.

I didn’t hide this time. We fought. Fought for our homes, our families, and our lives. The day passed in a blur of anger, blood, and sweat. When it was all done these saviors explained who they where. They said they where the Horde. That Kiro had aligned himself with them, and that all Vulpera where welcomed in their home.

My home had been burnt, my family murdered, but I had a new home and a new family. The Alliance would pay. For every Vulpera slain, for every Caravan burned, I would make them pay.

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I have two more I want to share, this time in the same as one is pretty short; my Druid and my primary Highborne character.

First Lihundae Silverlake, my Druid…

Lihundae was born in Suramar among servants of the nobility. She possessed a keen interest in the Arcane Arts, as well as the ambition to follow it. At first she gathered knowledge where she could, lacking the opportunity to seek education in any prestigious school. She eventually ended up in Nar’thalas where she finally found the means to learn her chosen craft in a structured and reliable manner. Eventually she grew into a teaching position at Nar’thalas Academy, lasting a few centuries before the War of the Ancients.

After the War of the Ancients, following the exile of the Highborne and subsequent rejection of arcane magic, Lihundae turned to Druidism. She was however unwilling to rebuke her knowledge of the arcane, the lore she had worked so hard all her life to obtain, and so endeavored to maintain that knowledge in secret. Since the Highborne’s return, and with them the return of the practice of arcane magic, she has grown more open about her continued study.

And the next one, the one I’m currently making this post on, Astrea Evermoon…

Astrea is the younger of twin daughters, heirs to a powerful noble house based in Winterspring. Practically bred for success in the arcane arts she privately schooled and generally excelled in all things relating, specializing in the school of Divination and later Conjuration.

In throughout the War of the Ancients, and especially in its aftermath, Astrea spent much of her time and efforts hunting down what demons she could find; seeking retribution for the destruction of her family, life and home. Incidentally her efforts brought her Felaras, weakened by a growing mana addiction; caused by her heedless and frequent overexertion. After a chance encounter with an arcane entity, it aiding her in the defeat of a Warlock seeking to corrupt the area, she soon found a means to cure her affliction. She resettled in the ruins of the city of Isildien where she lived as a hermit, slowly collecting what pieces of the empire she once knew could be found, along with tools and literature to further her practice in the arcane.

Until as recent as the Second War Astrea remained solely in Felaras, unless tracking and of hunting what demons she could find. Curious as to the state of those parts of the world she hadn’t visited she began a project entailing the scrying of distant locales. Through this process she saw much of the modern world and its inhabitants. Eventually her observations led her Dalaran where she lived for brief time, briefly collaborating with the Kirin Tor during the Nexus War.

During the last invasion of the Burning Legion, Astrea developed friendly relationship with some nobles in Suramar; after saving the daughter of one once lost in exile. For a time she organized talks with these individuals, in hopes of getting them to encourage their peers to connect with the Kaldorei; effectively regaining the closest preserved relic of the old empire in existence, along with a numerable ally for her caste. These talks soon died off after Suramar joined the Horde, leaving Astrea devastated for a time.

Following the War of Thorns Astrea saw an opportunity to improve the Kaldorei’s disposition towards her caste and vocation through military glory. As part of this endeavor she joined her sister, a priestess and commander of a Sentinel cadre, in a few conflicts mainly throughout Kalimdor. She left in the wake of devastating blow dealt to the cadre, leaving them to recover while she tends to other pressing concerns.

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-Present: Vencio’s currently going under some personal rehab under the guidance of a dwarven Zen Monk elsewhere in Elwynn forest to help cope with his inner demons (Conflicted emotions and trauma; not actual demon entities). The Fourth War left him delve deeper into an existential crisis due to a memory of “killing Zandalari Civilians” during the invasion of Zandalar.

-Previously during Legion: Vencio was harassed and forced to join along Tyrion’s personal forces to be drafted immediately to Broken Isles to be pardoned from his pending criminal record of fraud and conspiracy in which some are partially true and some false

-Past: Vencio grew in Hillsbrad from common farm folks & grew passionate for Dwarven smithing. Little did he know his parents secretly were Scarlet Crusade fanatics which stripped him of his childhood

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Failure nerdy shop boy has a montage and becomes a Blood Knight. Gets combat promotions. Tinkers well. Runs a boarding house, rescues people from a nebulous group of magi playing God. Pisses them off, gets turned into a werepeacock for the memes. Bad guys use stolen genetic material from him and someone under his command and make offspring. They use an enslaved bronze to make them teenagers conditioned to want to murder their parents. Parents break kids free from the conditioning. Now they have lots of teenagers and they’re not even a couple. Basically life is now a super hero sitcom.

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Zhihao Winterclaw was the youngest heir of a clan of shamanic assassins. She had little aspiration for leadership and pretty much expected to never assume such a role; preferring to hone her martial prowess.

Her clan, along with some of their allies, engaged in an invisible war against a cabal of Mogu clans some years before the mists parted. The conflict ended in the Mogu assaulting their home compound in the mountains, resulting in the mutual demise of both sides. As one of the few survivors Zhihao drifted for a time, surviving on the occasional mercenary job and scavenging, until a chance encounter with members of the Steelpaw clan; eventually resulting in her joining their ranks.

A couple years following that Zhihao witnesses the origin of a new group of felsworn Pandaren, the Dreadclaw, formed and led by her older sister Yun. She contributes to a conflict between them and the Steelpaw, resulting in their eventual destruction and Yun’s death at Zhihao’s hands. In the aftermath of the conflict Zhihao takes on the task of rebuilding the Winterclaw clan; an endeavor she is generally reluctant to pursue.

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Took some small bits of liberties with the backstory

TLDR: Pyrewood farmer infected with the Worgen curse. Risen by the Lich King. Has brief moments of remembrance when hunting because the Worgen curse, while shattered by the Lich King, still clings in the vestiges of his mind. Refuses to be a mindless killing machine calling himself a “Guard dog” for the living.

“Behind me is a farm. I wonder if there is bread above the hearth, and if I could ever return”

The Worgen stands still amidst a sea of corpses. Ice has formed on his fur though the warm breeze of the ocean blows strong in Kul’Tiras. A risen corpse shambles near him, and his concentration is broken. He looks around. Where was he just now? A scent on the breeze catches his attention. It matters not. Horde are nearby, and he hungers. He drops to all fours and takes off swiftly. His hunting pack, two freshly risen corpses, shamble after him.

The man who would become Vargrsten was a simple man. A Hunter, A woodsman, and a father, he resided in Pyrewood village and tried to keep out of the politics of the realm. The Gilnean wall, the Second war, the Northgate Rebellion, all a world away. What matters was if the turnips where growing, if the foxes where thieving, and if his family was happy. All a world away. Then the world came crashing down.

The scourge had begun rampaging throughout the land, and if that wasn’t enough there where tales of half-man half-beasts running in the shadows. The father did all he could to protect his family, but what could a simple man do against nightmares? He doesn’t know how he died. He remembers the dog barking. Why was it barking at him? Blood in the air. The blood was driving him wild. His family screaming into the night. Where were they? In the woods? So far away from home? Why wasn’t he home? His hands where stained with blood. A fresh kill, he had killed and brought a feast for his family. Feasting. Yes.

Hunt! He had to hunt! Those where his first thoughts before a voice in his head shattered his mind. It commanded him, and he obeyed. He was a Worgen he knew that. How did he know that? He obeyed the Lich King dutifully, but he didn’t know his name. He hadn’t been given one. He was just a Death Knight, a Soldier, and a weapon. He fought as was commanded, and he was good at it. As he continued to train some of the other warriors, Vrykul they where called, gave him a monicker. They called him Vargrsten, Stone Wolf, in their language. They said he was unstoppable, immovable, and resilient. Vargrsten. That would be his name.

Though the Lich King held dominion over his Death Knights they still had some semblance of will. Vargrsten became fascinated with the Runeforge and its magic. He began to study inscription, and became proficient with their use. He would inscribe runes into his claws, choosing to forgo the traditional Runeblade, he would inscribe runes into himself, his hide stronger than any armor, and he would fashion trinkets with runes on them, much like the Vrykul.

When the battle of Light’s Hope chapel took place Vargrsten fought ferociously, but was defeated alongside the rest of the scourge. When the Lich King’s betrayal was brought to light Vargrsten was amongst the staunches supporters of the Ebon Blade’s purpose. He would have his revenge.

Vargrsten stands above the Orc he found in the woods of Drustvar. The Orc has been slashed to ribbons, his body oozes disease, his bood siphoned to sustain the Death Knight, and his limbs are frozen. He retrieves his Runesword from where he threw it before engaging his foe and looks at one of the risen corpses accompanying him. “Confused aren’t you” he asks it “I fight with claw, fang, and paw because in those fleeting moments of battle I sense the wolf prowling the edges of my mind.” The corpse stares back lifelessly and without any signs of understanding. “I cherish those brief moments” he continues “because it is in those small moments that I remember. I remember what it is like to be alive! I remember what it is like to be free, and I remember…them.”

For a brief moment the whispy blue magic spilling from his eyes flickers and dims. He hears barking in his mind, and he holds his head. “I am a guard dog. I am a defender of the living. I do what they will not, cannot, should not. I am not looking for a better after life, just that life after me is better.”

The cold whispy magic flares up once more, and the wolf continues stalking in the night.

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