Brimley

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Information

Player: MrMonkey

Character Full Name: Brimley Redhound

Character In-Game Name: Brimley

Nickname(s): Bones. The nickname is self proclamed.

Association(s): The Horde, The Forsaken.

Race: Forsaken

Class: Warrior

Age: 36 before death, currently 45

Sex: Male

Hair: None, but his skull is always well polished.

Eyes: Yellow

Weight: 93kg

Height: 189cm

Appearance

He wears dark brown leather armor that is fitted with a very large amount of steel plates for added protection. Both the leather jacket and pants are pretty loose on him as he wore them before his death and decay has eaten away on his body. He also wears a pair of plate gloves, he is very proud of them as they have short claws on the fingertips for easier climbing or close quarters combat. His leather boots are very light and have been stuffed with wool to make his footsteps quieter, but that also makes it harder for him to run. He always wears a gasmask that obscures his face, it serves little purpose other than making him look more sinister. On his back he has a medium size backpack and his trusty sniper rifle.

Other: A slash on his throat makes it harder for him to talk, his words often sounding hollow and he makes out of place pauses every now and again. He has a large number of tattoos on his body, mostly mystical looking figures, but the most notable one would be the one depicting a wolfs paw print on his right shoulder. The tattoo is crossed out by several scars.

Personality

Alignment: True Neutral

His personality depends a lot on the people he is interacting with. If he doesn't know someone well then he is bound to be arrogant and aloof with them. Presuming greatness over them. With people he has known for a while and considers friends however, he is friendly and loyal. He is also rather childish. Quick to anger and bound to pout when things don't go his way. One thing that he greatly approves of is dark humor. Anything from hearing a good dead baby joke to seeing someone fall down a set of stairs is bound to make him chuckle. "It's all fun and games untill someone gets hurt. Then it's hillarious." But he is also rather moody and that makes him unperdicteble. He can change him mind several times during a conversation and my change his alliances at the drop of a hat. Aside from all that he also dislikes mages a lot, simply because he is jelaus of his own lack of magical abilities.

History

He was the son of a hunter living in the area that is now knownas the western plaguelands. His mother died giving birth to him so his father was burdened with bringing him up himself. Because of that he didn't cut Brimley any slack and started to teach him the knowledge of hunting as soon as he was able to use a rifle.

Brimelys childhood wasn't exactly easy for him but he inherited his fathers stubbornness so he managed to go trough it rather nicely. He and his father didn't have much more than they needed to survive. They had enough food to feed themselves, a roof over their head and a little coin they made from selling hides to nearby locations.

His father sadly died on an unsuccessful hunt that they took together. While they were out hunting for game, they managed to run into a rather nasty storm. They took shelter in a seemingly abandoned cave and decided to wait out the storm there. The two bears that occupied the cave didn't take their intrusion lightly and attacked them. Brimley managed to shoot the first bear, but the second one charged them. It managed to take a swipe at Brimleys father who was gravely injured by the slashes and blunt trauma. Brimley managed to take a few shots at the bear and brought it down before it could harm them any more. He suffered only nasty scratches from the bears claws, but his father was bleeding badly and couldn't move due to the pain. Brimley panicked and attempted to bring him to a healer but he didn't make it fast enough. His father died shortly after leaving the cave.

Brimley tried to go back to his life but in three years he finally gave up on it. He packed everything he could carry into bags and left the old cabin behind. So at the age of twenty six he finally moved closer to Stratholme. He didn't have any other place to go to and didn't like the idea of working for the militia as another faceless pawn. It didn't take long for him to join a group of bandits who reluctantly took him in.

During his stay with the bandits he befriended a small group of them and they soon formed a sub group of the blood thirsty cut throats. For years to come they lived pretty well. Robbing passing caravans or raiding nearby villages. They even worked out a small deal where they agreed not to attack a tiny settlement as long as the people there gave them a sizable tribute every month. Aside from the dangers of the occasional soldier raids and hardier raids, they did rather well. But that changed when they got words of a very special delivery of artifacts being transported from Stratholme to Lordaeron. Such a chance was not to be missed by the bandits. They quickly formed a raiding party with Brimley and his fellow bandits taking the lead.

They were ready to ambush the caravan as it passed between two larger hills. They took up positions on the higher ground and his in the trees. They waited for a long while, letting several other possible targets pass right by them, but it was worth it. The caravan finally rolled by, dozens of soldiers along with it. Brimley counted ten soldiers marching infront of it, two of whom were on horseback. One of them seemed to be the commander. They were followed by a open cart with six more soldiers sitting in it and two sitting in front of it. That was followed by another cart, much larger and clearly reinforced only two soldiers were stationed on it, that was where the artifacts were kept. Behind that was yet another cart with eight soldiers, followed by eight more on foot and two on horse back.

It was a very dangerous raid and Brimley was well aware of it. He aimed down his rifle, his hand shaking slowly and his heart thumping so loudly that he was afraid the soldiers might hear him. He had the commander clearly in sight, sweat rolled down his brow as he kept his eye on him, He felt his eyes slowly dry up as he tried to keep himself from blinking. Then he heard it. The command to attack. He pulled the trigger and the world suddenly went silent. He saw the trail of burnt dust that his bullet left behind it as it rushed swift and trough into the commanders helmet. His head jolted to the side, blood gushing from the brand new hole in his head. Before his body hit the ground several more shots sounded. Five more soldiers died right away, three more fell but they were still alive.

An improvised bomb was thrown into the first cart. The glass bottle with a burning rag stuffed into it exploded on impact with the helmet of one of the soldiers. The liquids in it quickly followed the example of the rag and started burning themselves. The remaining soldiers, the ones who were not on fire, dead or incapacitated, didn't loose their posture as the bandits had hoped. Instead they took up defective positions and ran trough every man who charged at then.

At first it didn't look too bad, Brimley and the eight other people charged with shooting the soldiers managed to pick a few more of them off but the people charged with fighting the soldiers up close weren't as lucky. They were no match to the better trained soldiers, soldiers who were masters of their trade as compared to the people they had encountered thus far. The bandits got quickly picked off and then the soldiers charged the snipers still hiding in the forest.

The height of the hills was the only thing that saved them. Brimley was quick enough to pick off most of the charging soldiers and let his fellow snipers to fight the soldiers face to face as he stood back and let his gun do the fighting for him. Somehow he and three other snipers somehow managed to survive the attack of the soldiers. There were two more fighters who had survived their wounds and one man who had hid with the dead.

They didn't question their luck. They stripped the dead of anything valuable and drove the cart back to the camp. They were ready to celebrate but they found that the artifacts were protected by very potent magic as well as locks too complex for them to simply pick or break. They spent almost two months trying to get into the goods but to no avail. They would have tried to break into them for a while longer if the scourge didn't make themselves out as a threat. The whole area quickly fell into panic and the bandits didn't know what to do. It was decided that the artifacts were hidden in a secure location so they could come and retrieve them when they had a way to get into it.

They hid the loot but bumped into a problem on the way. Right after making sure that the loot was hidden and they were ready to leave, they ran into a large group of ghouls. At first they tried to fight but the undead didn't seem very eager to relinquish their newly found life. Several of the already few bandits fell to the attack. Brimley and the remaining bandits tried to make a run for it but the ghouls hounded them all the way. In a desperate act for survival, one of the bandits took his knife and slashed Brimleys throat. They must have hoped that the undead would be more interested in tearing Brimley apart than chancing them down, but to Brimleys joy, the ghouls weren't exactly interested in the already dyeing man. In his last moments in that life, Brimley heard the agonized screams of his murderer as he was torn apart. Brimley died with a smile on his face, one that stayed with him from there on.

His remains were brought back to life a little while later and he was forced to the Lich Kings service. He spent a long while as a mindless pawn for his "King" but after Sylvanas broke free from her lords command Brimley followed. But not before a long while had passed. He and a few other had broken free from their tyrants control and made a run for it. The past flooded back into his mind as he remembered the same desperate run he had done before. The need for survival took over. He tripped the closest fellow who had escaped with him and kept running.

While the rest of the forsaken took refuge with the others who had broken free from the Lich Kings control Brimley chose to go his own way.He felt sickened by the ones who so blindly followed the Queen of the forsaken. He didn't break free from one tyrant to change him for another. No, he went back to his old ways. Of sorts.

He banded together a group of mercenaries and started selling his services to anyone who was willing to deal with him. He didn't hold loyalties to anyone so his greed got the better of him. He still felt a stronger connection to the horde and the Forsaken in general so he mostly worked with them but on harder times one can't be a picky eater. Now he wanders quite the same, going wherever gold leads him.

Skills and Abilities

Great aim – Having being trained with a rifle most of his life,he has learned how to use it effectively. He is quick on the draw and can land a bullet between some ones eyes almost hundred yards away. Usually. When he has time to aim, that is.

Too ghoul for weapons – Although he is very effective in ranged combat he seriously lacks skill in close quarters combat. He is quick to panic at those times and often "blacks out" as he goes feral on his opponents.Those times he is little more than a mindless ghoul and is bound to harm his friends if they happen to be close before he snaps out of it.

Lighthead potion – When having a conversation of grave importance Brimley sometime tries to sway the odds to his favor by opening up a bottle of the lighthead potion. It does little more than just makes anyone breathing in the fumes slightly lightheaded but sometimes that is enough. Abusing the slight confusion that the potion might bring he would try to gain the upper hand in a conversation. In combat it is almost useless as people don't tend to stand still long enough to breathe in enough of the fumes.