Elrath

Information

Player: Torn

Character Full Name: Elrath Darkham

Character In-Game Name: Elrath

Nickname(s): N/A

Association(s): Forsaken, himself.

Race: Forsaken

Class: Warlock

Age: Died at age 40, then just stopped counting.

Sex: Male

Hair: Mold green

Eyes: Empy sockets, glowing with a faint yellow light.

Weight: 105 lb.

Height: 5'11”

Other: He smells heavily of various herbs and spell components. He tells people he's a mage. He always speaks in a low, hoarse whisper, hissing slightly.

Appearance

Wears dark robes and a hood that casts a shadow over his face. His hands and really any bare part of his body is covered with cloth wraps. His cloak his fashioned so he can wrap it around himself to completely hide his form. A magic staff serves as his weapon and a wand hangs from his belt along with various pouches and satchels.

Personality

Elrath is a very bitter man. He is sarcastic and arrogant, and not much amuses him. He cares for no one but himself, and his ultimate goal is to gain more magical power, no matter what. He sees all races as equal, they are all fools with limited time on this earth.

Although his dislike for mortal races and his snide, sarcastic comments may drive most people away, Elrath can't resist showing off how smart he really is. He will give people lessons in history or magic, or really anything he knows about. Most find this incredibly insulting, probably because he insults people while he does it.

History

The flickering flames of the campfire cast an eerie shadow over the hooded figure that sat opposite them. The group of adventurers huddled closer to the fire, feeling suddenly chilly. The mage that invited them to share his fire during the night, sat with a staff cradled in his lap. He looked up, moldy green hair fell across his shoulders, and for an instant, the fire lit up the shadows of his hood.

The dwarf muttered an oath, the human and elf reached for their swords. “By the Light.. Undead!” The mage held up his cloth-covered hand and chuckled. An unholy, rasping sound. “Keep your weaponss where they are. In thiss neutral land we are no enemiess..” Sparks fly across the “man's” hand and soon it is engulfed in flame. “Unlesss you inssisst on fighting me..”

The band slowly lower their weapons and sit back down. The human nods, eyeing the Forsaken suspiciously. “Aye.. We are all travelers, weary from long days on the road. I suppose old hatreds can rest for now.” For long moments, no one said anything. The mage seemed to be fast asleep, until he spoke again, almost as if to himself.

“I grew up near thiss region.. On a ssmall farmsstead, before the plague. I do not conssider my sstory ssad, nor iss it cheerful. But I'll let you judge for yoursselvess..”

Indeed the life of Elrath was sad, and if he won't admit it others will. Even before the plague he was bitter. He was born Elrath Markhad, the son of farmer Erin Markhad and his wife. He had a twin brother, Major Markhad.

Their life started as any other, they were born and breastfed. But early on, their parents noticed a distinct difference in the twins. Where Major was healthy and growing fast, Elrath seemed to be struck with some sort of illness. He was thin and frail, very pale-skinned. Erin brought his newborn son to Capital City, where he went to see doctors and priests, anyone that could tell him something about his sons condition.

But Elrath did not appear to be ill at all, atleast not in the way mortals could fix. So he grew up weak and constantly sick, if he ever got too cold he was struck with high fever and his voice was ever low and hoarse from constant coughing.

The boys were barely six years old when their father was called to battle the orcs. They watched as their mother wept for days after Erin left, and as the months went by, she slowly but surely succumbed to her grief. When the war was over, and it became clear that Erin would not be returning to his family, she died.

Elrath had tried everything, feeding her and bathing her, trying to find someone to fetch medicine in Capital City, but nothing helped. Major had given up on his mother long before Elrath, and he hated his brother for it. But now they were alone, seven years old and with no one to care for them.

Major got a job as a farmhand for their neighbour just outside the small village they lived in. The brothers lived with the family there, getting food and shelter. Elrath came to depend on his brother alot. The farmers family did not like him as much as Major, so Elrath counted on his brother to care for him when he was sick and fight for him when the kids in the town bullied him.

But no matter how much Major did for his twin, Elrath hated him more for it. He hated how weak he was, he loathed having to count on his stronger brother to help him with everything. But he took solace in one thing, he was alot smarter. Oh yes, when Major was out meeting one of his many girlfriends or playing sports Elrath read and studied.

When the twins were teenagers, a visiting mage from Dalaran passed through their town. For some reason the young boy caught his attention, as he was sitting under a tree reading a book on the art of conjuration he borrowed from a local library. The mage sat with the boy, talking with him for hours. He was amazed at how this young lad spoke and behaved almost like an old man.

He brought Elrath with him to Dalaran, and the boy became his apprentice. Major was extremely unhappy to not be able to got with his twin. The two had never been apart, and despite all the hateful comments and verbal abuse Elrath gave him, Major loved and cared for his weaker half.

Elrath's time as an apprentice went by quickly, years spent reading and practicing spells, it was paradise for Elrath. Soon after he reached adulthood, he was “graduated” from his master and would now be taught more on the specifics of magic by various teachers. But Elrath yearned for more power. He was obsessed with proving that he could live alone, that his magic was far more valuable than his brother's physical strength and health.

So, at night he began researching another power he had heard of. Fel magic. He met with others like him, Warlocks that met in secrecy outside of Dalaran. He did not use any spells yet, no he was content with studying and reading. Then the time came when he was ready to begin his solo career as a mage. He was given a staff by his former master and was offered a permanent residency in Dalaran. He refused and the day after his graduation, he left the city. He moved back to his old town and once again lived with his brother.

Major had visited Elrath atleast once a month since they were seperated. He annoyed Elrath extremely and his brother seemed to notice a difference in him. Elrath was alot more unhappy it seemed, more bitter and more sarcastic than usual.

But at night, he and an elder warlock that moved into the village practiced fel magic. And for a few more years, Elrath spent all his energy on becoming more powerful in this new school of magic. Major spent his time doing odd jobs around the village and trying his best to look after his brother. The frail twin was still constantly sick, but now there was an air of confidence about him.

The brothers soon got tired of the village life and decided to head out into the world, becoming adventurers. Major had finished making himself armor and a sword and Elrath believed himself ready to take on the world with his magic. Of course his frailty and bad health forced him to rely on Major more than ever, but he lived with it. The traveled the Eastern Kingdoms, fighting pockets of renegade orcs and doing various quests for the people of the Alliance.

The returned to their old village just before the Scourge hit. They decided to visit their old home where the farmer and his family lived. The Scourge ravaged the town. Major and Elrath fought the undead, some of them villagers they had known all their lives. Major wanted to stay and protect the farmers family, help them escape. Elrath was furious with his brother, insisting that they escape on their own while they had the chance.

Major would not leave the family behind, and so without looking back, Elrath walked away from his brother. He heard fighting and muffled shouting.. He thougt his brother had died, that he had left him there to die. And he seemed not to care.. On the outside. If Major had stood in his way he probably would have done it himself. Or so he says.

But Major did not die. He escaped with the farmers family and they made their way with other refugees to Stormwind. Elrath was not so lucky. He escaped the village, but he could not make it on his own. He was weak, feverish and coughing uncontrollably. He sat down to rest, and as he looked up to stare at the group of festering ghouls shambling towards him, he laughed that rasping, creepy laugh.

He laughed at the irony of it all, at the cruel joke the gods had played on him all his life. He died fighting, magic flowing through him even as he drew his last breath. He was raised, used by necromancers to kill innocents.. Until he was freed.

He was Forsaken, freed from the Lich King and now undead with intelligence. To him, this was a blessing. He no longer aged, he no longer needed sleep nor food. He still had his magic, and in this form he could make his ambitions come true. Elrath Markhad the Human Mage was now Elrath Darkham, Forsaken Warlock.

“... and now I ssearch the world for magical itemss and ressourcess, sseeking alliess.”

The three adventurers stared at the “mage”, puzzled. The human spoke: “Major Markhad? I know him.. He's a mercenary down in Booty Bay. Makes quite a living for himself I hear.”

Elrath coiled up like a snake ready to strike, fel green flames springing to life in his hands. His hands grasped the man by his throat, squeezing hard, green flames scorching his skin. For the first time in decades, his voice was above whisper, a rasping scream. “Alive?! My brother livess? Fool, why did you not mention thiss earlier, letting me chatter away needlessly!”

Elrath released him, the human falling to the ground, obviously dead. His throat was scorched black by fel fire. Elrath drew himself to his full height, his staff flaring and his eyes glowing brightly. He pointed at the other two. “Leave thiss place!”

As the adventurers fled, the warlock sat again. “Major livess.. Thiss iss.. Interessting.”