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10.2.7
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The Bumper Book of Character Backstories!
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Post by
Bloodspeaker
Thats right all! It's a thread for all those who have taken the time to write some kind of history for their character. Or even just a story involving them. I would appreciate it if it could be kept to player character stories only, as there is already some pretty extensive lore for all of the games major npc's. Also, if you post replies/comments, please remember that someone spent some of their time to write these, and that some of them might be deeply personal. Please don't attempt to continue a backstory written by someone else. These are their creations and i ask that you obtain their specific permission before using their characters at all.
Have fun everyone =)
Bloodspeaker
Post by
Bloodspeaker
Plaguesinger-The Death Knight
Once a living, breathing man, once a proud blood elf, the being now known as the Plaguesinger is no longer either of these things. He lost everything to one man. If you can call the Lich King a man…
Avarid Torell was once a teacher of songs and stories, a bard. He was known far and wide across the elves ancient homeland of Kalimdor. For centuaries he collected the tales of the world and brought joy to the peoples of the world. When the Horde raged across the world he was right there, on the front lines inspiring the soliders to ever greater deeds of valour, making the enemy recoil in fear through the power of his voice and his mastery of song.
When the orcs managed to free themselves from the influence of the Burning Legion Avarid was also one of the first to travel to their new capital of Orgimmar, intent on seeking out the songs and stories of the Orcs, Trolls and others living there. The Warchief, Thrall, was so impressed by Avarid’s devotion to his chosen path that he even agreed to teach him to speak Kalimag, the language of the elementals.
Unfortunately, it was to be his hunger for the lore or the lands and their people that was to be Avarid’s downfall. He started seeking the lore of the Lich King himself, trying to unravel his history in the hope that it might provide a key to destroying him. This search led him further and further north, eventually carrying him to the lands of the Lich Kings northern fastness, Icecrown Citadel. Avarid was forced to fight off all manner of creatures to simply stay alive and while he was engaged with one of these beasts he took a blow which rendered him unconscious.
Ordinarily this would have meant his death at the hands of the beast, but the creature was under the control of one of the Lich kings necromancers who saw a chance to increase his status in the eyes of his master. Avarid Torell was taken to Icecrown Citadel and brought before th Lich King. Tortured and infected with every disease and illness the Lich King could devise Avarid eventually agreed to serve the Lich King. It may even be that, by the time the Lich King’s torturers were done with him, Avid truly believed in the evil purpose of the Lich King. Certainly he remembered almost nothing of his former life.
When he was next seen Avarid was at the front of an army of the dead, delighting in infecting all those near him with terrible plagues, loudly singing the praises of the Lich King and proclaiming the end of all life. It wasn’t very long before Avarid became known as the Plaguesinger. The Plaguesinger commited terrible atrocities for the Lich King, butchering whole towns and murdering the innocent on command. That wasn’t the worst of it. One of the diseases the Plaguesinger was infected with was the undead plague. Most of those he killed arose to a terrible life as one of the mindless legion of ghouls, zombies and skeletons, damned to serve the Lich King for all time. Many champions came to try and vanquish him, Horde and Alliance alike. None of them succeeded though. His unflinching service got him noticed by his master, and he was commanded to appear before the Lich King for a special mission. He was ordered to aid in the destruction of an stronghold of the Scarlet Crusade, close to the death knight training grounds of Archerus. That mission was to shatter his world.
Ordered to execute a troublesome prisoner, Plaguesinger was surprised to hear recognition in her voice. ‘Avarid? Is that you?’ While Plaguesinger still doesn’t know who that woman was to him her voice broke through the conditioning the Lich King had burned into him and released his old memories in a violent flood. Confused and enraged, Avarid the Plaguesinger struck out and killed the woman. But from that moment he dreamed of escaping the Lich Kings clutches. His chance came about a week later, when the Highlord Darion Mograine broke away from the Lich King and formed the Ebon Blade. Plaguesinger immediately declared for the Highlord and fought ferociously against the Lich King. There was nothing that could be done to free him from the terrible plagues that inhabited his body, but he now used the as weapons against the Lich Kinds servants, going to insane lengths to try and redeem himself.
Joining the warriors and mystics of the Inner Sanctum, some of them his former victims, Plaguesinger battled his way deep into the scourge stronghold of Naxxramas. Together they inflicted terrible damage on everything there. Eventually they stood before the Lich Kings second in command, the powerful Lich Kel’Thuzad. The battle that followed rocked the walls of Naxxramas. Although Kel’Thuzad was eventually vanquished, Plaguesinger did not survive the battle. Encased in a block of ice, Plaguesinger succumbed to his terrible injuries.
But for him, even death was not the end…
To the surprise of everyone in the Inner Sanctum, Plaguesinger returned from the grave, made undead by the very diseases the Lich king had infected him with. He was terribly weakend by the transformation, but he also found that he was now imbued with control over the permafrost that still encased him. Newly empowered, Plaguesinger slowly began to rebuild his strength, intent on making the Lich King pay dearly for his mistake.
Post by
Bloodspeaker
Helskarion
-The Warrior
Once a loyal soldier of the kingdom of Lorderon, Helskarion heard the whispers of the Olg Gods many years before Arthas and his undead Armies ravaged the land.
Albrecht Reinhardt was the son of a simple farmer. For much of his early life he looked set to follow in his fathers footsteps. Albrecht always felt that there should be more to life than just looking after pigs, but he also didn’t want to abandon his farther to tending the farm, so he stayed and helped. Unknown to the young man though, his father had managed to get deeply into debt with the thugs of the Defias Brotherhood…and one fine spring day, they came to call in his father’s marker.
They decapitated the young mans father while he was forced to watch, then they torched the farmstead. Laughing, they threw Albrecht into the dirt and began to mount up. Not thinking, barely even conscious, Albrecht grabbed the nearest object he could find, which happened to be the cleaver his father used to slaughter pigs, and charged at the thugs. Surprised by the unexpected attack the Defias thugs were slow to react. There were eight of them trying to mount their horses and Albrecht managed to down three before any of them realized they were under attack. Albrecht ran back to one of the outlying barns and waited. The first thug through the door got nearly beheaded. The next was met by a screaming, blood covered nightmare. Albrecht hurled the cleaver into the chest of another thug and ran, bellowing loudly, at the last two. He didn’t even hear the trumpet calls of the Knights of Lorderon as the approached. He just saw the thugs run.
He nearly followed them, but the adrenaline that had fuelled him through the fight deserted him and he collapsed, surrounded by the dead. The young man wept for his father in the burning remains of his home. The Knights arrived a mere few minutes later. Their captain was deeply moved by sorrow for the young man, and tried to console him. He managed to persuade the King Terenas Menethil, to give Albrecht a commission in his armies. The young man was quickly found to have a talent with weaponry, a particularly rare skill with swords. Albrecht soon became a Lieutenant of the King’s Knights on foot. He never forgot his grief over his father’s death, and any actions he was in charge of again the Defias Brotherhood were noted as particularly brutal. This brutal streak may have been the reason Albrecht never became a captain.
Thirteen years passed. Albrecht was just settling down after a long day drilling new recruits in the uses of the sword when he heard a whisper;
“What if I can make him live?”
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Albrecht said, already half knowing the voice was in his head.
“What if I can make him live?” Albrecht stood, looking around and trying to see where the voice could be coming from.
“Who are you? Where are you?” There was no reply. “Hello?” Albrecht tried to get back to sleep, but he couldn’t shake off the mysterious voices words. The next night the voice was back, the same words.
“WHO ARE YOU!” Albrecht yelled. The voice stopped. This went on for about two months. Albrecht was slowly getting less rational the whole time. In all that time the voice came at random times, whispering the same seven words. Then one night there was a different voice. A familiar voice. His father’s voice!
“Come to me, my boy.” And somehow woven into those words was that other voice “What if I can make him live?” Clutching his pounding head, Albrecht ran out into the night, chasing the voices.
He found himself in the crypts below Lorderon, surrounded by hooded, robed and chanting cultists.
“What if I can give you the power to make him live?” None of the cultists paid him any attention.
“Yes! I’ll do anything! ANYTHING!”
“What if I can give you the power?” Albrecht broke down and wept.
“I just want him back. Please! What must I do?” The chanting changed. Where before it had been in a language that almost hurt to hear, for one instant all those robed figures said the same thing;
“JOIN US! SERVE ME!” Albrecht felt the words as an almost physical blow. He bowed his head.
“I will serve you,” He felt something latch onto his soul, “Master.” He ceased to be a soldier of Lorderon and became a servant of the Old Gods.
Albrecht became as ruthless in the service of the Old Gods as he had been Loyal in the service of Lorderon. He murdered for his new Master and in time he came to forget the voice of his father. He lusted only after the power of his Master, becoming steadily crazier the longer he was in service. In the world above King Terenas’s Queen gave birth to a son, who she named Arthas. The focus of the Old Gods seemed to shift elsewhere. Albrecht, by now a dried out husk, sustained almost totally by his master’s power, frantically redoubled his effort to gain his Master’s attention. He had been convinced that he was to be one of the main instruments of his Masters return.
The years passed. Then Arthas came to Lorderon. Followed by an army of corpses. One of them was Albrecht’s father. It was the final straw. It destroyed what little remained of Albrecht’s sanity, seeing his father living because of another, even in such a horrible unlife. Raving mad, Albrecht slaughtered his whole coven of the Twilight Hand , just as he had the Defias thugs all those years ago.
“YOU PROMISED ME THE POWER!” He raged, screaming hysterically at the voices in his head. “YOU SAID I WOULD BE THE ONE TO MAKE HIM LIVE!” He cut down the cultists, women, men and children alike, revelling in the bloody exertion. “I WILL NOT SERVE YOU ANYMORE!” Albrecht fled the catacombs, the laughter of the Old Gods still echoing in his mind.
“You will kill your friends. You will trust no-one!” Albrecht reached the streets just as the undead overran the city. He saw his fathers face in every single one of them.
“Father! I was supposed to make you live!” Albrecht began hacking left and right, carving his way through the undead and the few still living soldier alike. No longer sustained by the Old Gods he slowly begun to grow tired. “I will…not. NO!” The undead streamed over him, biting and scratching, trying to tear him apart.
Six days later he awoke. He looked down at himself…and screamed! Big parts of his flesh had been eaten, his organs were spread across the ground at his feet. His ribs were exposed to the air. Nobody could have survived that. Then he heard the voices in his head. There was the brutal command of the Lich King, ordering him to do his bidding, but behind that there were the whispers of the Old Gods. The voice of the Old Gods and the madness that still rang in his head immunized him to the Lich Kings commands. He stopped being Albrecht Reinhardt and became Heskarion. They too his life from him. They stole his sanity and then abandoned him. They even stole the release of death from him. He knew what to do though. He would slake his madness in blood. He would take his revenge on the one who usurped his place at the Old Gold’s side. He would kill the Lich King.
Post by
Bloodspeaker
I know they are walls of text, but hey, they were fun to write =)
I hope you have as much fun reading them
Post by
229054
This post was from a user who has deleted their account.
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