Malth

Information

Character Full Name: Malth Valarl

Character In-Game Name: Malth

Nickname(s): N/A

Association(s): The Ebon Blade, The Lion Hearted, The Lordaeron Milita (Ex), Lordaeron (Ex)

Race: Human

Class: Death Knight

Skills and Abilities: Malth has specialised mostly within the Blood aspect, with some minor studies within the Unholy aspect. He is a decent swordsman, and fights with both sword and runic magic.

Age: 47 at death, now currently 56. However, he hasn't aged, considering his current state of Undeath, and the preservative nature of such.

Sex: Male

Hair: A very calm mix of grey and white. His scalp shows signs of Male Pattern Baldness from his previous life as a Militia-Man of Lordaeron. Although, the non-affected areas still retain a youthful length.

Eyes: One retains a blue, runic glow, while the other is covered by an eyepatch.

Weight: 80kg

Height: 1.8m

Usual Garments/Armor: Malth wears the official armour set of The Lion Hearted, a simple set of plate armour similar to that worn by the Stormwind guards. Alongside that, he wields a basic Polearm, after his Runeblade was effectively destroyed alongside his old set of plate armour.

Other: Malth wears an eyepatch over his left eye, or rather, where it used to be. It was recently shot by another Human within the Burning Steppes.

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality: Malth is the kind of individual one would imagine living in the shady regions of town. While mysterious in his ways, he does try to carry himself with some respect, especially when others around him could aid him in the future, and will be sure to help potential allies. He believes in fair swordplay, and will never harm an unarmed combatant unless his existence depends upon it.

History: Born into a simple Lordaeron family, Malth grew up aspiring to be one of those swordsmen in steel he saw so commonly walking through the old city. They were his idols. When the time came, he was off, signing up with the Lordaeron Militia. He served as a simple guard, tending to duties around the city. The occasional brawl, the occasional theft. Though what he was doing was small in scale compared to the soldiers who fought in the wars, he knew he was doing something good, which made him feel great. His self esteem boomed every time he helped an old lady, or gave a traveler directions to the nearest Inn. He did not know why, but he felt absolutely great. Plus, the income was nothing to complain about either. Throughout all his years with the Militia, he never thought the next few events would even be possible.

Malth was on duty, helping the elderly and breaking up brawls as usual, when he heard whispers of a death. A very high-up death. Apparently one of the nobles, or someone else had been slain by Arthas! Malth was intrigued, and completely shut the idea of Arthas betraying the Alliance away, inside a small little box in his mind. He continued on with duty, thinking it todays "rumour", or what-have-you. He was called away to help someone just outside the city gates, apparently a linen cart was robbed of most of it's supplies. That's not what Malth saw though. He -did- see a cart, but it wasn't linen inside of it. Something was moving in there.. He drew his blade, and went in for a closer look. The last thing he saw was a ghoul, digging into his gut, mauling away skin and flesh until he bled to death.

The Lich King saw honour in his heart, great honour, something which could be abused. Malth was of average intelligence. He was no mage, or a scholar.. He was the perfect target for brainwashing. His corpse, along with many, was put inside one of many Meat Wagons, and taken to the Eastern Plaguelands, where his spirit was twisted, his soul forcefully shed from a dreamless, relaxing sleep.. He was back, but not for a purpose he would've liked.

Malth opened his eyes, and for some reason, felt betrayed, felt as if he was forced to do something. He looked down, and saw his guard's armour. Although, he wasn't in Loredaeron anymore. He felt a chill, a sharp bite which continued to bite at him as the air waved past. He looked around, and realised that he was laying down. He got up, and saw what he -thought- he feared most. A single ghoul stood there, bits of skin hanging off of him, and emanating possibly the most putrid smell Malth had thought possible. Although, it did not seem to bother him much. He managed to get himself off of some kind of stone plateau, rectangular in shape, with ornamental skulls covering it. He walked over to the ghoul, investigating it. It's tongue was hanging out, surprisingly it hadn't been dismembered by it's horribly sharp teeth. After a short while, Malth was bored with the somewhat macabre spectacle, and moved on towards an open doorway, and walked outside. After navigating through a few halls, Malth saw something he didn't even think possible. Runeforges lined a massive circular room, in the middle what appeared to be an arena. Now Malth was really starting to worry, until a Night Elf approached Malth.

"You have just awoken, yes?" Malth simply nodded. "Follow me." Malth followed the Elf to a room, the walls stacked with armour and robes. The Elf looked around, walking over to sets of spaulders, and plate. He collected a set in the middle of the room, on a table. "Change your armour." Malth shrugged to himself, and began changing his armour. Midway, when his original armour was off, he saw how much his skin had changed, it was a lot more tattered than he remembered, with reddened scars lining his body. Eventually, his hand ran along his throat, where he felt the damage done to it.

Finally, after the armour was on, the Elf beckoned Malth to follow him. He followed, curious as to what was going to happen next. He was bought to a room, a single Zweihander blade was laying on a stone table, and similar blades, even a Warscythe, lined the walls. "This.. This is the blade that makes you a Death Knight," the Elf said, as he pointed to the rather sadistic-looking blade. It had jagged, thorny edges, and it's hilt was engraved with symbols, depicting the three runes: A drop of blood, a snowflake, and a jaw-less skull. Malth picked it up. It was light, and balanced. Obviously enchanted. The Elf motioned to a training dummy on the left side of the table. Malth conformed, and struck at the dummy, leaving a noticeably large slice in it. Malth looked at the sword, amazed at it's power. "Come now, the blade is to be completed."

Malth followed the Elf to a Runeforge inside the circular main hall. "And now to finish it. Choose which rune you want, for soon it will envelop you, and become one with you." When Malth heard these words, the thought of flowing blood ran through his mind. Memories of blood simply called out to him. Malth looked at a small patch of skin, showing under his armour. He did have not any blood left.. But now it's time I get it back.. The thought of blood was soothing.. He began enchanting the blade, smiling horribly. As soon as the blade was finished, it emanated a blood-red glow. Beautiful, macabre, sadistic. Malth was ready to unleash a reign of horror upon the world.

Over the next few days of continuous training, Malth's mind was warped by twisted memories, the voice of the Lich King himself, and his Runeblade's thirst for blood. Death was all he cared for, and he displayed that well. The Eastern Plaguelands helped to shape Malth into a killing machine, capable of evils he would've never imagined in his previous life. He was now a true Death Knight.

After the battle at Light's Hope Chapel, where Malth accompanied his fellow comrades, he began to remember things as they were, the voices in his head were dissappearing. He could move himself properly, without any bounds or restrictions. He was finally free from the grasp of the tyrant Lich King, who had merely used Malth as cannon fodder in the end. Such outrage had led Malth to raise arms with his brothers, in the name of the Ebon Blade. After several months, he had forged his own armour and weapon, ridding himself of the armour the Scourge had forced him into.

Due to a conflict within the Burning Steppes after Malth had returned from Icecrown Citadel, Malth has now alligned with The Lion Hearted, the Grand Marshal of which saved his life after he was rendered unconscious by a rogue Death Knight.