Rhett

Information

Player: Haim

Character Full Name: Harold "Rhett" Plaguerat

Character In-Game Name: Rhett

Nickname(s): Mute

Nickname(s): Rhett

Association(s): The Horde, Blackheart Mercenaries

Race: Forsaken

Formerly: Human

Class: Rogue

Age: Presumed early 30's

Sex: Male

Hair: Dirty white, ear length hair.

Eyes: Yellow (Don't have much of a choice)

Weight: 73 Kilograms, Missing certain organs.

Height: 6'1"

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

Appearance

His life in the lower cells and sewers of Undercity is a dirty one, He usually wears a common gray and white robe when above the ground. If not he is hired by a wealthy traveler or even an entire faction, he usually wears his proper red and black attire. He mainly wears a hood or a mask to conceal his lower or upper Identity, at most of times.

Other: Rhett's bottom Jaw is attached to his mouth Via screws, his entire bottom Jaw is virtually just a metallic substitute for a Jaw. Made with dodgy Goblin engineering every now and again his jaw will make a small squeek.

Personality

Harold is a quiet type, like most other Rogues are. Or mainly because he can barely keep his head screwed on, either way he enjoys silence and solitude. However he is found to enjoy to whisper in the ears of those that are he is about to rend. If you have the gold for him he will be under your service, however calling names or stating that he is filth (which is an Understatement), will clarify that you will not have a pleasant sleep. He does not beg despise his appearance, yet he is twisted and mad and will keep you in riddles until he is no longer satisfied with your presence. Don't get him wrong, he still is a nice bloke once you get to know him.

History

Memories of terror, gore and the most horrible things you could imagine flooded through this what used to be man's dreams. Harold awoke to darkness, cold ambitions and no heart beat. The moonlight shined through a small crack of what seemed to be his coffin. Harold tried to scream but couldn't and instead made a gurgling sound as a large furry animal arose from what had been his stomach. Without strength or realization on what had happened Harold began to stare at the large scratch marks on the top of his coffin, dirt filled his mouth as he lifted himself up a few inches before beginning to push the weak and broken coffin open. Piles of dirt rushed through the cracks and onto Harold's pale flesh before arising into the dark cloudy summits of Tirisfal Glades. Harold had no Idea who he was or how he'd got here, his eyes felt as if they were about to fall out of his skull and his Jaw was hanging by a shoe string. Yet he could not feel pain or any emotion at that.

Rat's scattered away from his open coffin, as Harold gurgled a threat at them. He could somewhat speak! Harold turned to his shallow grave and began to analyze his wooden tombstone, he could only make out two words from the withered tombstone which were engraved "Rhett, Harold" on either side. He let out a gurgle or better yet a gasp as a memory came flowing back into his mind. He saw Children, men and women running from each side without warning. As ghastly figures trailed the mountain, Guards or soldiers began to fight off the dark and bulky invaders. One ran at full speed with a blunt club in one hand smacking the startled man until everything was black and red. Then he was in his Coffin, Scratching and moaning in a frenzy to get out of his grave until again everything went black.

He stood in there in confusion as his life flooded back into his eyes, the memories were so cold. Looking at his hands everything began to shake before they evolved into what he used to be. He could remember everything, his past life and even his bitter traits.

"The Memories were strange, twisted. He remembered a place, called Brill;"

Harold had lived most of his life among the higher society with his family, Merchants from the lower Arathor Kingdom. They had come across many different precious objects and sold them to the rich nobles who lived in the better parts of the city. His father usually would travel to buy or find these treasures and his mother would sell them in a instance. When Harold had just ascended into Adulthood his father had been slaughtered for his treasure. And many of his riches were robbed from the house. Harold and his mother had no choice but to leave the city and find refuge in a not so far off town called Brill.

There Harold had worked as a Stable hand and his mother a Tailor; They survived for a while. Everything was coming along nicely and the family were still hanging on to their lives. However through the third war Brill was one of the first places to be enticed by the plague. Meat wagons and corpse like soldiers ran through the town with steel and bone. Harold had been in the stables when he heard the cries and screams from outside. His mother had left town for the season, so he was alone. Harold had grabbed the pitchfork to arm himself to see the horrors of walking corpses slaughtering the people around him. The Air grew a thick green, and Harold fell. Watching.. Waiting for the end.. As he watched.. It became darker.

Startled he thought only for his "Mother" and what could of happened to her, he sat. Quickly realizing the name "Rhett" was one of his colleagues (Another Stable hand) that fell to the Plague aswel, he was buried next to him. Yet his Coffin was open, and it seemed that he had left long ago.

Harold became startled and wandered Tirisfal Glades until he came to Brill, mistaken for a mindless zombie the Death guards beat him with blunt objects until he was traumatized by the hard blows to his upper body and fell to the ground unconscious. Finding himself locked up in a dark cylinder he charged at one end to find himself in the cellar of an Inn, looking and searching around for an escape he was overlooked by several other Forsaken. Trying to plea that he was innocent for whatever reason he could only gurgle and a green discharge emerged from his mouth. The cruel laughter of the over seeing citizens as the released a Scarlet Zealot to his position.

"FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE!" yelled one of the chubbier men.

The crowd threw them both splintered clubs as the citizens took their bets, the Zealot circled Harold until he charged in. Harold dodged the attack and began pummel the unexpected Human. The club ran red soon after he had finished with the man, and the crowd went silent. Harold threw his bloody club to the side and began to try and crack his jaw into place, successfully snapping it into an awkward position he was able to be understood. The crowd was befuddled by his pleas, seeing as they thought it was just another mindless zombie trying to invade Brill. Harold fell to his knees, if a Forsaken could cry.. This would be the time.

However due to those unfortunate events Harold got back on his feet, scavenging with another easy going group of Forsaken. He learned how to speak the widely known language of Orcish and then his own racial Language of Gutterspeak which he uses frequently and as his first language. After gathering enough items and wealth from being with the group he set off to buy some more suitable and protecting attire as well as a more suitable weapon. Hearing of Forsaken mercenaries he thought he could earn more currency by becoming one himself, as a freelance mercenary. Doing small time work, mostly fighting off Scarlet forces he began to find more interest in Recon or stealth ideals. Learning more about the path of the Shadow he became more of a Rogue then a Freelance warrior. Yet the missions became dull as he thought he'd find more interesting accomplishments with the Horde.

Harold thought his name would feel bleak and too common, he thought that he would use a new Identity with his newly acquired skills. And then Rhett was born again.

This new name "Rhett" as Harold calls it was a new start to his new life as one of the living dead, yet as the days went on his jaw began to rot and soon enough it had fallen off. Rhett could barely speak without making a fool of himself, so he kept his mouth shut and soon became nicknamed as "Mute". Yet Rhett wanted more then the usual come and go freelance mercenary, so he enlisted himself into the "Forsaken Dread Fleet" a small operation of Forsaken sailors that challenged the high seas fighting off the Horde's many enemies.

But Rhett found more interest in his old workings than being sea sick on the side, so he left the fleet and made his way to the Goblin settlement of "Ratchet". There is where he met the leader of a band of Mercenaries called "Blackheart Mercenaries". Rhett was introduced to a new organized company of mercenaries, which he found a lot more better then walking around Undercity sewers trying to find shady people wanting to have something settled for a price. And so Rhett was shipped off towards Booty Bay where most of his comrades with Black hearts tied around their necks were situated. As Rhett traveled he was offered a fix for his rotten jaw, by a cheesy looking goblin in a cheap purple suit. And so Rhett's jaw was replaced with a metallic substitute jaw that barely works. But for Rhett it was fine, and now that he could talk properly he also thought that the metal jaw would only make him look more approachable than a jaw half falling off.