Marcellus

Information

Player: Darkneon

Character Full Name: Killian Marcellus

Character In-Game Name: Marcellus

Nickname(s): N/A

Association(s): Brotherhood of the Horse, Knights of Lordaeron, Knights of the Silver Hand, the Church of the Holy Light

Race: Human

Class: Paladin

Age: 53+ (starting Year 30, beginning of the WoW MMO-RPG series)

Sex: Male

Hair: White

Eyes: Green

Weight: 195

Height: 6'1

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance

Platemail

Holding true to old customs and personal morality - Killian does not wear a helmet, foster swords, or ride horses. In place of his helmet, he keeps a Phylactery of Faithfulness.

Personality

Adherence

Killian has spent a great majority of his time retiring his memories from the wars. He has only recently re-evaluated his life, coming to the conclusion that he'd rather die with a hammer in his hand than coughing up organs (and other assorted bodily fluids) upon his death bed. He remains loyal to the Alliance and pledges himself to its cause forever, regardless of whichever flag he serves under. He is a very traditional and well-mannered. The Three Virtues have been the driving force behind his entire life-style.

Having seen plenty of blood, Killian likes to avoid unnecessary conflict. Never raising his weapon save in the defense of another or himself. There are plenty of other methods to confer with one's troubles. Withal, he holds true to the paladin code of conduct out of responsibility and conscience.

Attitudes and Behaviors

Though his aging and compassion have somewhat pacified him, he still knows the Orcs (both New and Old) as a race capable of great destruction. Regardless of how honourable they may wish to be. He'd rather never see one again. Though, stories of their sacrifice at Mount Hyjal have contributed greatly to an underling respect.

He has heard much of the Blood Elves, though he has yet to see one. Still, such a betrayal cannot be left unconsidered. Once, inside to Chapel walls, he was talking to a priest about High Elves. Then, per chance, the priest began to tell him tales of the new Silvermoon. Killian remembers how he cringed at their vanity and selfishness and how he begged for a change of subject. His stomach is still left in a complicated knot following that conversation. . . the priest got a good kick out of it, though.

The Forsaken and Scourge remain painful and unbearable reminders of past memories. Like most, Killian has pledged to rid Azeroth of these spiteful beings. Despite any humanity they attempt to show, he has seen too much.

If there's any other race he comes to respect as much as humans, it's the dwarves. They are practically brothers. They have shared camp and stories alike about the fire, and blood and sweat upon the fields. Gnomes are always up for debate due to their wide range of personalities and intentions, but their diligence and ingenuity have proven admirable.

Other than these few races, Killian has either not heard enough, or even seen any other race outside of his lifetime prior the end of the Third War. Regardless of how deep his pain may run, he will remain respectful to his ally and enemy alike.

Killian is very humoured by the youth of humankind. They speak in irony, yet are very determined to prove themselves. Any modest elder smiles, knowing what they'll be thinking when they're older. Still, they are young and rash, and contradicting their respectable seniors often. Sometimes, a push in the right direction will do them good. Killian has experienced often what happens when you try to force your opinion upon them. Patience sits well.

A fellow of his own age? Historical timelines are one thing, but the emotional and physical legends within them are plentiful. If his peer (or even a curious youngster) would be willing to forgo the time, then he would be more than prepared to entertain them with one.

The Paladin Within

However, age will not wear away the man he had been. This shows when being forcefully put in an awkward situation, manning the battlefield, leading ignorant people, witnessing heresy, or dealing with somebody speaking out against the Holy Light. He becomes gruff, ordering, and strict. It is not some shadow or anti-version of himself, but that part of a person that never fades. He bears no lament for this, but uses it as strength to inspire the faltering mind.

“Good order makes men bold, and confusion, cowards.” -Niccolò Machiavelli

Inspiration

His faith is his occupation, and therefore he subsists simply. Materialism is a wasted attribute. He remains motivated through order and understanding. Killian dislikes clutter, confusion, or a lack of organization. Although he is able to work calmly in these conditions, the only disorganization he'll ever come to appreciate is that of nature. He is of strong intellectual curiosity and values the synthesis of ideas and logical thought.

During the wars, he often criticized the evils that life could create. It wasn't until he aged that he saw both sides of the moon. He realized humans as beautiful creations, capable of expressing their imaginations through the Fine Arts. He fondly respects those who submit their effort and time to create wonderful paintings, eloquent dances, and inspirational performances. It acts as a balancing force within him.

Although undemanding, Killian has developed quite a taste for quality cheeses. His most favorite would have to be Brie. Stormwind Brie, for the sake of nationalism. Bringing him cheese will always reward you with a warm smile and tender gratitude.

If any confront him asking what he seeks in life, they will get the same answer. That he has no ultimate goal in life, but that he is living it. To give every breathe to the universe, and live for somebody other than himself. He believes that it is a life well spent, a happy one.

“I gaze back upon all of it . . . and wonder how it is that my body and soul have endured so much. Then, I stop asking questions, and I say I am grateful to have come so far. That I am happy with the life I have led, and that I do not fear death. For when it comes, I will be content and look back once more – and know it is enough.” -Killian Marcellus, Year 30

History

Childhood

In the year of (-)24, in the town of Grand Hamlet, there lives an ancient family. It's history as deep as the roots of a grand oak tree. A tome of a thousand parchments, first written in times when Ironforge remained untouched by civil war. The record of the Marcellus family is filled with knights, both chivalrous and malicious, with property and name flowing through the father to his eldest son. Upon this year, of twenty-four, births the eldest son of four.

Bestown the name Killian, he was ordained to join the ranks of Azeroth's knights (just as his father, his grandfather, his great grandfather, and those alike). In the year of (-)18, the boy of six was sent away to page for Sandford Reginald the IV. A lord of Grand Hamlet. The young folio bowed to the honour of dressing his lord, and jumped at the privilege to accompany his lady about the parish. He wrestled and fought fellow pages with wooden tools. Reaching a status where squires presented him training-at-arms. Killian learned to hunt and hawk, to be quick and graceful, and to stay faithful and flexible. He even learned how to read and write, despite its unknightly petition. He often speaks of friendship with his lord's cleric, Brother Corwin, from the Brotherhood of Northshire. The man who realized it to him to understand and respect the Light.

Nearly ninety-nine full moons will pass to mark the change from page to squire. Upon his fourteenth season, Sir Knight Lon Gregory III seeks a servant. Killian showed promise, and thus, the next seven of his teenage years would be exhausted under the banner of Knight Gregory. He ran the field of battle, delivering fresh lances and horses to his master. He educated his body to accept the burden of heavy armor, and was soon permissioned to play games with real weapons against other knights. His master gifted him his own horse to learn to ride with his weapon arm free, and awarded him a mace and shield to present his rank to his peers. Though, the trial of it all would lead to the most chivalrous act of all. The young Marcellus must understand restraint following a fight, when his blade is at the throat of another knight. Sir Gregory will remember this boy for his swift learning.

Adulthood

Year (-)4, the young Killian outgrew his old mentor. He left the Gregory many blessings and returned to his home of Grand Hamlet. There, he was greeted warmly by Lord Reginald and his court, and received a spacious stockroom to begin his preparations into knighthood. He spent the night in prayer without food or sleep, and come morning, bathed in warm water from head to feet. Dried and ready, he equipped a special padded vest and hood to keep his armor from pinching and tearing at his skin. A page assisted him within the final moments of his childhood. With a huff and puff, he finished the fit with a white tunic, and descended into the grand hall. He approached his lord and knelt at his knee. In turn, the lord touched his shoulder gently,

“I dub thee, Sir Knight”, at the age of twenty.

Killian received his mace, lance, and golden spurs. Free to roam the world, if but only a year. As then, he united in the ranks of the Knights of Stormwind to join his father, and was later followed by the second eldest brother.

Four years, the Marcellus family flourished in the continued success of their family unaware (as all) that this marked the end of the era. Nearly 1,200 years of human prosperity would twist and turn in the fiery portals of Draenor. Year one, the orcish hordes flooded from the Dark Portal and crashed upon the walls of Stormwind. The Brotherhood of the Horse fought well, and repelled the fiendish devils. Killian left his family in Stormwind afterwards, escorting the two youngest of the family back to Grand Hamlet. His younger sister was to become a lady-in-waiting and his youngest brother to become a page.

Too soon, did the vile tempest return and topple Stormwind like a castle of sand. Drowning all inside without a single mercy, crashing upon the backend wall and flooding back out to engulf the surrounding towns of Azeroth. Killian awoke at the sound of the manor's warning bell. Grunts and blades clashed outside his quarters, cutting the weasands of his lord, lady, and sister beloved. He grabbed for his only brother and called upon the guard to unite. Long did they fight in the burning night. ‘Till a favorable wind blew forth with news of the late Stormwind walls. Forced to flee, the knight took what little was left and made west – to Moonbrook. There they stood, waiting for hopeful news that never came. Only the entourage of Lord Anduin Lothar. They docked the ships with no past in hand, voyaging the Great Sea to lands of Lordaeron and Dalaran.

It was his twenty-eighth season, when Killian and his brother took arms with the kingdom of Lordaeron. He, himself, joined the Knights of Lordaeron. His brother was stationed into the town of Southshore. Killian was found of good faith and virtue, and selected to join the Knights of the Silver Hand, founded under Archbishop Alonsus Faol and Uther the Lightbringer. He journeyed to Stratholme to study the ways of magic and the three virtues in efforts to fight the oncoming hordes.

Fate would have the orcs crashing upon their door, seeing to the death of his brother in Southshore. Their beaches swelled at the mere size of the orcish flock, forcing the Alliance's shield until they could strike back. Killian was called upon to join the forces of High Commander Lothar, and soon marched upon the Peak of Aerie. Here would he meet his first dwarf, inspired by their brutality and strength upon the field of battle. He fought until the army was forced to split, remaining with the half fighting off the large number of orcs still remaining within the Hinterlands. Faith and determination saw the enemy back and across the bridge of Thandol Span. Joined by more from Ironforge, they relentlessly pushed their way to Blackrock Spire. There, confronted by the destroyer of Stormwind and his malevolent mass. The battle raged, ensuing the deaths of many, including the commander himself, and leaving many more injured and unable to help. Killian was among the critically wounded, and could not continue under Paladin Turalyon in the final push that would shatter the mirror-face of the Dark Portal.

Recovering within the next two months, the aging paladin aided his order in caring for the northern victims of the Orcish attack. Time did pass until he was able to sit back and relax in Year 11, at age thirty-four; soon serving the Knights of the Silver Hand for another fifteen more. Killian humbled and came to terms with his life. He used up most of his prime in combat, and lost his inheritance during the First War. With no family of his own, he grew fond and content tutoring the younger soldiers and paladins amongst the internment camps. He enjoyed the time spent with his brothers combating the rebelling orcs, punishing them for their wickedness and greed. Through tenacity, he finally established the bridge between him and the universe. A path that will guide him through compassion. He left the Foothills on a pilgrimage.

Later, at forty-eight, he was called upon again to aid his fellow paladins north to investigate the disturbances caused by the rebelling orcs. More years depleted, spent fighting the brutal and importunate Orcs. His band was soon called with others to reinforce Hearthglen to aid Prince Menethil. Here, would he learn how honourable the orcs are when compared to the true evils capable of creation. It was a gruesome change, fighting a foe of flesh to hammering away piles of bone and rot. The humans rallied and marched northward, to aid Stratholme against the Plague of Undeath. Here, Prince Arthras' decrees a draconian order to Uther, who in turn refuses. The Prince has ordered all those loyal to Lordaeron to assist in the destruction of innocent life, and in turn contain the plague? The camps hush over in airs of tension, and end in protest when the Prince orders the Knights of the Silver Hand no more. Along with most, Killian refused and left with his paladin brothers, later returning to suffer through the task of burying the dead.

He remained north as the Prince's army sailed away. The paladins tried but could not control the relentless Plague, one far greater in determination than even the Orcs. Then word spread of the Prince's return. Of the King's Death. Of Arthras' Betrayal. The destruction of Uther, betrayed by Lordaeron's own royal blood, left the remaining order in stonic distress. Petrified. Then the ghouls were upon them and ripped into their very souls. Reluctantly, Killian and his brothers chose to depart from each other and flee their separate ways.

Older Years ...

Hearing of Stormwind's resurrection, it served as a beckon to the old Killian to revisit his birthplace and finally pay respects to his late family and lord. There, he served the Church of the Holy Light throughout the remainder of Third War. Even now, it's still argued whether or not the Silver Hand remains. Regardless, Killian will always consider himself a part of the order, content to die serving the Light.