Malika

Information

Player: FlametongueX

Character Full Name: Malika Killwhisper

Character In-Game Name: Malika

Nickname(s): Killwhisper, Lika

Association(s): The Forsaken, The Horde

Race: Forsaken Undead

Class: Rogue

Age: 26 years old at death

Sex: Female

Hair: Medium-length, straw-like and straggly, a mixture of bleach-blonde and bone colours

Eyes: Empty sockets, as per the norm, with the glowing golden orbs instead of ‘eyes', with heavily scarred eye sockets

Weight: 47 kg

Height: 5'9”

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Appearance

Malika is more often than not clad in dark, well-kept cloth undergarments. Usually of a black, purple or blue influence, the clothes are usually overlapped by dark leather armour, often of the same colour persuasion, as her clothing habits seem to have carried over through death.

Other: Always carrying some form of blade, something to throw, and something to stitch with.

Personality

Malika in life was an avid tailor, leatherworker, and smith. If she could make fashionable clothing or armour out of a hobby, she'd take it up. In death, she is much the same – ever the fashionable undead human, she seeks to colour-coordinate herself and those around her, but only if she finds a way to break the ice – she's extremely quiet, and it is unknown whether this is due to shyness, or something more mysterious.

Though quiet, Malika gets her point across easily enough – whether through body language or her actions, she can make statements and arguments that can be extremely convincing.

Malika can be quick to make decisions, often without thinking them through, or considering repercussions or consequences. This, combined with her noticeable distaste for most forms of life, can often land her in hot water, with a corpse or casualty on her hands.

History

Malika lived the majority of her child life in Lakeshire, born and raised in the tavern. Her father Aleus was a cook, and her mother, Narelle, was a waitress. Malika was often tutored in many different arts and crafts by bar patrons, and being exposed to many people and different faces as a child helped her become outgoing and friendly to everyone she met. Growing up, she found interest in many forms of clothing – her father's aprons were always decorated in some way when she could get her hands on them, be it with additions make of velvet, or simple glitter and gems.

She decided that she needed a change in her late teens, and moved to Stormwind to set up shop. When she found nowhere to establish herself, and a lack of customer interest, she took up recreational sword fighting to pass the time, and make a couple of coins by busking. She was later forced out of Stormwind due to the hustle and bustle and lack of accommodation, and became a wandering merchant.

When the Plague hit, Malika was one of the first to succumb – living on the streets and in the wild as a poor yet cheerful girl, she was quick to come into contact with all sorts of street urchins and wanderers, and the Plague took Malika as one of its first victims.

Malika arose cold, naked and alone, surrounded by hundreds of bodies in a large pit dug in Duskwood. She looked down upon herself - she was rotting. She was literally falling apart in front of her very eyes. She began to scream, and tear at her own hands, as if to pull away unseen insects or gloves, stripping even more flesh in the process. Howling and crying, she ran, confused and scared, intent on finding some form of civilisation or priest to heal her of her sickness. She passed by Darkshire, and when she approached, was nearly felled by a hail of lead and arrows. Fortunately, she managed to avoid harm, save an arrow through her shoulder, and continued running, until she blacked out somewhere near a huge, looming tower.

When Malika next awoke, she was surrounded by darkly dressed humans. She almost smiled, grateful for the good luck the Light had gifted her with, and began babbling about needing help and healing. The figures watched silently. When she had fallen quiet, awaiting some kind of response, the leader leaned forward, taking off his hood, revealing himself to be Forsaken. Malika screamed and kicked before he could talk, but she was held down and beaten into a stupor. "You are one of usss now," hissed the leader. "And no amount of healing will sssave you." He grinned. "Bag her." Just as one of the associates leant down to put a bag over her head, she looked down at her hands, which were almost completely skeletal, and it dawned on her – she was undead.

When the party reached the Undercity, Malika was forced into training. There was a need for scouts, and with her build, she fit the role perfectly - small and easy to miss. Nobody sure if she was willing or not – the girl had become near-silent, rarely speaking at all. She displayed a fiery passion for battle and assassination, or perhaps just a passion for dispatching the other trainees, and was quickly picked up by a fellow Forsaken named Lorailis.