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Alliance Christian Robinson (True surname: Wolfheart)
Player Kira13
Gender Male
Race Worgenified Stromgardian
Class Warrior
Age 23
Height 195 cms; 250 cms when worgen.
Weight 100 kgs; 150 kgs when worgen.
Eyes Green.
Hair Short, blond-to-brown and carefully trimmed; black fur when worgen.
Affilliation(s) The Alliance, Gilneas, Stromgarde.
Mentor(s) Medea, 'Grunt', Graeme.
Status Alive


Player: Kira13

Character Full Name: Christian Robinson (True surname: Wolfheart)

Character In-Game Name: Chris

Nickname(s): Chris.

Association(s): The Alliance, Gilneas, Stromgarde.

Race: Worgenified Stromgardian

Class: Warrior

Age: 23

Sex: Male.

Hair: Short, blond-to-brown and carefully trimmed; black fur when worgen.

Eyes: Green.

Weight: 100 kgs; 150 kgs when worgen.

Height: 195 cms; 250 cms when worgen.


Usual Garments: Christian usually wears either Gilnean-made or Stromgarde-made clothes, being a proud half of both. He likes to dress up in a classic way; of either ways.

Usual Armor: Chris is, at most times, surrounded all around his body by a giant cape of cloth, leather on his shoulders and clasped to two mail shoulderguards. He also wears a combination of a mask and a large hat, to better hide his identity.

Under, however, lays a layer of leather and mail, used for both protection and a degree of agility.

He uses a longsword that usually rests on his back, but that does not mean he is not without long-range attacks: he has a rifle next to the longsword, in the same sheath as it, and two flintlocks on either sides of his belt.


In public, Chris is rather open and friendly, trustworthy, one who seems devoted to his people and friends; a Gilnean whose allegiance paid off, one who is now happy to be part of the Alliance again.

After he adorns his 'costume', however, he changes: he becomes silent, almost mute, serious and tense, one who likes to stay in darkened corners and listen, grumbling every now and then. However, if the need arises, he can easily raise his voice and, perhaps, inspire fear by the fact alone. His voice is naturally strong, yet he keeps it down for quiet purposes.


Twenty-three years ago, in the land known as Stromgarde, the ancient starting point of humanity as we know iti, n the wealthy and noble house of Wolfheart, Christian was born as a second son to Rodock, the head of the entire family. They celebrated for an entire day, from dusk until dawn, for this newcomer’s birth.

They, both the father and his wife, Helen, then took the newborn to Gilneas, where Rodock’s best friend lived in his own noble house. He was to be the child’s godfather, so he had to see the baby very soon – such was the way. While these three were gone, the oldest son was given the mansion and all the responsibilities of the family, him being over the age of ruling, yet not mature enough by his father’s standards. “Until my return, boy, you are to be the head; and Gran is to be your councilor. Take care of everything in this time and I shall think again of your heritage.”. Those were the words that Rodock spoke, before he left with the carriage.

“Welcome, brother, to Gilneas City!”, Daniel Robinson spoke as his friend left the vehicle and approached the other with arms spread, ready for a brotherly embrace. After the welcomes were made, all of them boarded their carriages again and Daniel’s led them to his manor, where his wife and young child awaited. The Stromgardian family spent five days of celebration and laughter with the Gilnean one, after which the tensions between the people of Gilneas began to be felt. Then, one night, entirely unexpected, the great gate that allowed entry to the outer world was closed shut, sooner than people thought –if they ever knew! The trio of Wolfhearts were, therefore, stuck inside this land.

From that moment on, the tension between the two parties in Gilneas began to be felt as well, altogether with the people’s dislike of men of other nations. Luckily for the Stromgardians, their friends could give them a cottage near the forest, out of the city and near Stormglen. The days, weeks, months and years passed, at first with the help of the Gilneans, but then by helping other people with their work. Slowly, life went on.

At the age of six –on his very birthday- Chris was taken by both of his parents in Gilneas City, with the idea of celebration at the Robinsons, alike every year. At night, after the party was over and Rodock was drunkish, they went home; it would have been better for them to sleep there. As they were exiting the city, they were ambushed. As they sank into the darkness of a by-street, three men with masks jumped them, demanding money and bearing insults of their blood not being Gilnean. Rodock, drunk as he was, did not give in and outright refused. As the thugs approached, he slowly and lazily slid his sword out of its scabbard, wanting to fight them all to protect his family. It is then that he found an arrow in his shoulder, then another in his gut. He groaned out of pain, but even that was interrupted by a dagger in his back. The wolf then fell on his knees, defeated; yet the series of attacks were not over. A kick in the face followed and he was down in his own pool of blood. And Helen was next! She grabbed Chris’ hand and tried to run, yet an arrow soon met her back as well and she fell head-first; she was far from a fighter.

The child would have been next, but three pistol sounds were heard and the shadow of a man was seen at the alley’s end. The thugs roared in pain and kneeled, holding their thighs. “Run, kid.”, a strong voice said; but Chris fell on his knees near his mother, tears in his eyes. Fortunately for him, the thieves retreated, swearing words on their lips; they were furious. The man approached with steady steps and peered down at the grieving child. He bent his back and grabbed him by the arm, gently tugging it. “C’mon, no time for dallying.”, he whispered to him, before pulling him on his feet for but one second, before the child collapsed

“Happy birthday, my son.”, Daniel said to David, his legitimate child. “I wish we had cake, like we used to.”, he continued. His son was, from this day, twenty-four. The two of them and the head’s family’s wife were not in their manor, but in the basement of a house in the Northgate Woods, the northernmost part of the land of Gilneas near the two bridges; one that lead into the city, the other towards Keel Harbor. Bombing sounds were heard from above, yet distant, and if they were to leave the house and look north, the great wall could be seen through a dark-green mist breached. The ‘epidemic’ of worgen has already passed, but now the invasion of the undead Forsaken was starting; the land of Gilneas has been through the perhaps harshest times ever since the Second War; and more was apparently to come.

The three remained silent after, as steps were heard descending on the stairs. “Shh.”, Daniel warned the others. Unfortunately, perhaps because of that very whisper, batterings on the barricade that stood as door began and grew wilder and wilder, stronger and stronger, along strange, roaring sounds from whatever was on the other side. Soon enough, the wooden beams that were supposed to keep outsiders where they belonged were broken and an undead ghoul leaped down the flight of stairs. The woman cried for help, as the men drew their swords. The monster’s head twitched once, a clicking sound escaping its neck, just before it plunged for its prey. The fight ensued, but did not take long, yet the outcome was unexpected: as the two were struggling wit the ghoul against a wall, trying to protect the third, and the ghoul was slowly approaching, a short and thin dagger found its way into the monster’s head; it fell dead immediately afterwards! “Chris?!”, Daniel asked in unbelief, as his eyes become wide, staring at the man near the stairs. “But…”

It was over seventeen years ago, that Chris disappeared from the Robinson household, back when things were going smooth-ish. After an year of trying to fin him, the authorities dubbed him either missing or dead. Yet, now, on this day, he was standing just before his godparents’ –who later became adoptive parents—agape eyes, tall and strong, with fair hair and a sturdy beard, much alike the appearance of his father. He approached the others and pulled the dagger from his dead foe’s head, sliding it back into his waist, where others stood as well, then looked up at David and smiled. “Happy birthday, brother.”

But there was no time for celebration. Most of the Gilneans have been told of the evacuation that was to come; most, except the Robinsons, who have been struggling with food in that basement for a week and a half. Chris gave the three each a strong chug of cold, refreshing water, before he hurringly led them out and, passing the bridge, to Keel Harbor. There, the final preparations were being made before leaving with the night elven ships. They were lucky, indeed, for they boarded one of the last ships.

After many weeks of sailing unknown waters, which even surprised many of the people on board, they reached what seemed to be a land of dreams: a forest with gigantic trees, at all times darkened by their shade; and behind the harbor where they stopped, something that looked like a wall, not of earth or stone, but of wood; and roots sprung from it, big as a tower, creating great foliages at their end. The tall, purple-skinned elves led them under what seemed to be a magical, strangely lighted root; and once they entered, they found themselves under another such ‘building’, only in an entirely different place: a ‘city’, both natural and filled with trees, as old but kept statues and temples of stone from ages past, yet very populated. The elves dubbed it Darnassus, their capital. Many human mouths were left agape –if not all- as they remained heavily surprised by this place. They passed bridges of roots and even moving and apparently talking, humanoid trees. In the end, they reached another giant tree, under which they were supposed to live. Chris and his adoptive family did not dwell long, however –two or three days of relaxation- before boarding a ship back over the ocean to currently the strongest human nation’s capital, Stormwind. The Robinsons, with some of the last money they brought with them, bought a house in Duskwood, on the outskirts of Darkshire, where the four of them began their new life.

“I have something to tell and show you, son.”, Daniel told Christian, as he rummaged through his rucksack one day. He pulled a scroll, which he then opened; a will, signed at the bottom by Rodock Wolfheart, Chris’ father. He wrote so that if anything was to happen to him, Chris was to inherit the manor in Stromgarde City and everything with the name of Wolfheart. What he didn’t expect, however, was that the nation and cities of Stromgarde were sacked entirely. Fortunately, the will also wrote of a special hiding place of ‘treasure’ under one of the basement’s tiles.

Several days after, Chris began disappearing and appearing again from home, after several days or even weeks, his whereabouts unknown. Yet, he is determined to find what has happened and reclaim his heritage.

Skills and Abilities

In the ten years that Chris was away from 'home', he has trained with various people, all who have kept his existance --or rather, the fact that he was alive-- a secret, in various ways:

The Power to Protect: He has learned from the Gilnean veteran, Graeme, to fight with cutlasses, shortswords, longswords and axes, both short and long, as well as how to read tracks.

Bullet For My Valentine: From the one known as 'Grunt', he has learned accuracy with a rifle and with pistols, as well as how to stealthily approach and take out.

Respect Your Surroundings: The harvest witch Medea has taught him how to fight and to protect himself against magic, what herbs to use and for what practices, how things in the supernatural world work and how they should be approached.

To be a noble or not to be?: While most of the Robinsons' wealth has been expelled, there is still left a considerable sum from which Chris can take at any time. He can use this money to haggle or bribe, though it's a two-bladed sword: using it too much means leaving his family without money.