Wittiker

Information

Player: Angraa

Character Full Name: Wittiker Wentworth Wrenchwrist III

Character In-Game Name: Wittiker *or* Wentworth *or* Wrenchwrist (likely Wittiker)

Association(s): Gnomeregan Exiles, The Tinkerers, bar wenches

Race: Gnome

Class: Rogue

Age: 165

Sex: Male

Hair: Wild pink hair all over his head and face. It may look ridiculous to some, but that may only be because they do not know the reasoning behind it. His betrothed loved pink.

Eyes: Big blue orbs that seem to be leaning toward a grey-blue as he ages.

Weight: 40 lbs

Height: 3'

Alignment: Chaotic Good (subject to adjustment)

Appearance

Very nice attire. He is accustomed to taking orders from rich blaggarts and dressing nicely comes naturally. On the other hand, when he gets an idea and begins his work, as long as something is covering what needs to be covered, he could be wearing anything.

Personality

He is -very- curious. Curious beyond reason, especially with his old age. This gnome is particularly polite, well-spoken, and responsive but very sarcastic. This all holds true in public, anyway. This gnome is a little bit...unstable. He has a passion and when he is in the midst of that passion (tinkering, learning, exploring) he shifts from polite and well-spoken to what some would describe as stark raving mad. His eccentricity and energy is surprising from an old gnome such as himself, but he couldn't care less what anyone thinks of him.

History

In his time at Gnomeregan (which is where the foundation of his life and history lies) Wittiker was a bit of a busybody. In fact, one could say he was /the/ busybody. This attitude was not uncommon in the gnomish empire, but Wittiker excelled at the so-called discipline. He worked for a number of rich gnomes, though the offers were few and far between, often as the steward of the house. He performed whatever menial tasks the busy gnomes had for him without a single word of complaint. He spoke with politeness, moved silently and smoothly, and never missed a beat. Wittiker was a valuable tool for parties and events and he fit the role of butler perfectly.

Between you and me, however, Wittiker was more than he appeared. His job selections were based on more than the highest bidder or the closest friend. He chose who he did, more often than not, because they had connections. Connections that had information, items, gold, jewelery, maps, tools, names, and other useful items common in the underground. Gnomes weren't particularly well-known for their secrets, but that doesn't mean they didn't have a vast hidden market of illegal contraband and important secrets. And Wittiker seemed to be in the middle of it all.

He made contact with rogues and tramps from places he had only heard of, acting mostly as informant. He would meet them while shopping and pass along a set of coordinates or the passcode to a warehouse. As the years passed, his work became more well-known. The more well-known on is in the underground, the more of a target one is. And so, as things began to heat up and he considered leaving Gnomeregan and severing his ties, the Troggs invaded.

While in Ironforge, Wittiker devoted his time to helping the fellow refugees of Gnomeregan whom had flooded to the giant gates. He did what he could to aid the helpful and kind dwarves and made a bit of a name for himself. From creating devices that sped the delivery and evened out the portioning of the food rations to studying the areas around Ironforge and Gnomeregan to lend his two cents to the defense of the cities. But as time wore on, he found his devices breaking or becoming obsolete and his once-valued opinion being ignored in lieu of the established generals. Unfortunately, he soon began to tire easily and loose his train of thought much more quickly as the weeks turned into months. The gnome was going to have to face the facts: He was getting old.

That is when he met her. The gnome's name is not of import, but his love for her and the impact she had on the aging gnome is vital to whom he had become. She was extraordinarily beautiful to the eyes of the old gnome. Due to his shady past, he could hardly bring himself to believe in love without betrayal, but he could fantasize. He was happy whenever she came around. He was grumpy when he knew he wouldn't see her. She worked as he did to help the Refugees and get the gnomish race back on their feet. The more she worked, the more he saw her and the more he loved her.

Instead of the grumpy, forgetful, fretting gnome that had been barking orders to people of much higher authority and getting only sneers, Wittiker was now the soft-spoken, kind-hearted and still fretful gnome. Some noted the way he eyed the younger female, but none questioned it or even brought it up. There was simply too much else to worry about. As time progressed, things settled down and Wittiker grew ever closer to his companion. With eagerness, he pushed the relationship step by step and before long, the two were engaged to be married. He was the happiest gnome in all of Azeroth and nothing could keep him down.

Nothing except the death of his beloved. One morning, Wittiker awoke to the news he hadn't ever thought he would hear, had never considered the possibility that the words could be uttered. While tending to the wounded members of a party sent to discover more about how deep-seated into Gnomeregan the Troggs were, a band of the fiends stormed the group. They were overwhelmed easily and slaughtered. For more than a year after receiving the word, Wittiker vanished. Those who speak of him say he became a hermit in Tanaris; still others say Wittiker went and trained to be an elite assassin at SI:7 that he might kill the Troggs and get his revenge. Wherever he went, he came back missing a piece of himself.

Wittiker was reserved, quiet, and back into the mindset of the butler/informant he had been before. However, along with that attitude came a spark. A spark of insanity, some would say. To this day, the gnome will disappear for days at a time and return with a crazy new device or idea and ramble on for hours until his morose mood returns.