Razon

Information

Player: Torn

Character Full Name: Razon Darktide.

Character In-Game Name: Razon

Nickname(s): None.

Association(s): Works alone mostly, tends to ally with other Death Knight's that hate Breathers.

Race: Blood Elf

Class: Death Knight

Age: 155 when he died.

Sex: Male

Hair: Black hair that flows down his back.

Eyes: Eery glowing Blue.

Weight: 90 kg

Height: 6”2

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Appearance

Wears plated robes and a hood most of the time, sometimes wears disguises. His weapon is a long sword forged of strange red metal. It serves as his Runeblade.

Other: A large tattoo on his back, somekind of strange symbol.

Personality

Razon seems to be a very care-free and bored person. He is sarcastic and looks at everything and everyone as being there for his amusement. But if one was to dig deep, he would find raging madness. Razon hates Humans and Blood/High Elves for what they did to him in life, and wants them all dead. He cares not of the other Breathers, they are merely in his way. A taste for torture and a lust for any kind of fight, he is the perfect Scourge tool, or rather, he was.

History

Razon was a High Elf Mage, serving in Silvermoon. His parents were the typical elves, just living the good life in their beloved homeland. Razon joined the human armies of the Alliance to fight the orcs, but not out of any sense of duty.

He had always been cocky and sarcastic, he was a good mage and he knew it. Even in life he cared not for anyone but himself and what happened to anyone else was their fault and he should not care. Tagging along with the humans was merely to see what would happen in the war. A hobby if you will.

But along the way he met a human girl, a mage in training. She traveled with him, talked too him and shared his tent. Something happened during that time that Razon could not understand. He fell in love.

They traveled together fighting orcs with the Alliance. But Razon, he found another hobby.

Seeing the Orc Warlocks, as they were called, working powerful magic that could kill and torture with barely a thought, he needed to have it.

Capturing a Warlock, he took him away from the camp and tortured the wretch until it told him where the power came from. He killed the orc and took another one, and another, until he knew all he needed to know. He learned much and grasped the concept of leeching power from his victims. He heard of others like him, human mages using fel magic, and he contacted them and learned from them.

The war was over and Razon journeyed to Dalaran with his lover. He kept his newfound skills a secret, no one saw the change in him. They lived in Dalaran for a few years, Razon studying and working his magic in secrecy.

One dark night he was walking the streets of Dalaran with an ally of his. They wore hooded, black robes and walked in silence. They stopped in front of the small house that served as a home to Razon and his lover. Speaking in hushed tones, they looked like they were arguing.

Razon's lover came to the window, she saw her beloved as he shouted "So be it!" Hand raised he hissed a few words and the other man fell to his knees, his face revealed as twisted in agony. The girl yelled, Razon could not think, could not focus. His vision was blurred with red, he heard nothing but the sound of his rapid heartbeat.

He saw himself raise his hand and shout words in a horrible language. His love, his life, fell to the floor with a sickening gurgle. Her eyes fixed on him in death, eyes full of hate. Guards ran up the street, having heard the shouting. He ran, ran so fast.. Tears running wildly down his cheeks.

The power, the new magic.. Had come with a price. He had begun to hear voices, taunting him, enraging him. "They hate you.. They will hurt you.." Driven mad by the voices and the promise of greater power, he tried to convince his only ally to aid him. The answer had been clear, the voices spoke the truth.

Anger took control of him and he killed the man, he killed his only love. He had to go home, his people would help him, his family would make it all better.

As he collapsed outside the gates of Silvermoon, his only thougt was: 'They will take the voices away.. They are my only hope.'

He woke up on the floor of a small room with no windows or furniture. A tall elf stood over him with a stern look. His father. Word had reached the mages of Silvermoon, his crime and his chosen path were known to his people. What he had hoped for did not happen. They cast him out, banished him and judged him for what he had done and what he had become.

He was beaten and thrown out at the border of Quel'Thalas. He wandered into Lordaeron, the voices enraging him further, but his power keeping him alive. The Scourge attacked the human lands and Razon was caught in one of the battles, he fought for his life with fury and madness, using fel energies to bring down the monsters. But in the end, killed.

He slowly woke up, there was a dim light coming from somewhere and as his eyes opened for the first time in undeath, he saw the horrid beasts that had killed him. Wearing some sort of plated robes, and a strange red sword lying beside him, he rose and analyzed his surroundings. Dark and damp, made of stone and full of undead.

It was explained to him, how he had come to be there and how the agents of the Scourge chose him because of his power. He was a Death Knight. He trained in Acherus, for that was the name of the citadel, for a short while.

Memories of his old life coming to him in flashes, and even in undeath he could not escape the madness and the rage. But with discipline and training he could hide his true feelings, using sarcasm and a carefree attitude towards everything to mask the madness.

The Death Knights later broke free from the Scourge, but Razon did not want to join his fellow Knights. He traveled for a long time, eventually ending up in Duskwood. It suited him, undead roaming, humans to kill and a feeling of great evil.

There he stays killing all breathers and fueling his rage. But for all the memories that came back, his life and the horrible things that happened..

He could never remember his own name.