Skaar

Information

Player: Skaar

Character Full Name: Zalodale II (Formerly); Skaar (After Death)

Character In-Game Name: Skaar

Nickname(s): The Chicken Killer, Death Jester

Association(s): The Undercity, Silvermoon City (Formerly)

Race: Forsaken (Formerly High Elf)

Class: Mercenary (Rogue)

Age: 130 (Upon death)

Sex: Male

Hair: He has an unattended brownish hair, that almost reaches his shoulders... nothing compared to what it was before. He doesn't really care anymore.

Eyes: Glowing yellow.

Weight: 70kg

Height: 1,83m

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Appearance

Skaar wears a variety of leather armor, covering his whole body. He tries to hide the fact he is a Forsaken, perhaps. He does not limp or has bones showing. He is very rarely seen without some sort of mask or hood. Or even both. He is usually seen with an axe and a dagger on his waist and a bow on his back. He also carries a hidden pack of throwing knives.

Personality

First of all, Skaar is, like some Forsaken, quite anti-social. He only speaks to people who stare at him, be it in curiosity or fear. The other exception is the ones that are trusted by his friends. Skaar generally speaks in a foul way, which makes it hard to believe he once was a high elf. He's quite low tempered sometimes and can become violent or start harassing people. Normally, he doesn't react to provocations... unless it hits a soft spot. He's not very flamboyant and likes to keep attention away from him.

History

Ten years ago... it happened ten years ago... That is the oldest thing he remembers. One-hundred and thirty years, and he only remembers the event that killed him ten years ago. It's as clear as it was just happening all over again... It was late at night. Something chilled his body, though it wasn't cold at all. Something... unnatural. The elf didn't pay too much attention to it. He had to focus on the ones he was after. The wild trolls in the Blackened Woods, formerly known as the Eversong Forest. There was some bounty on a small bunch. He had accepted the challenge and went out to hunt the foul forest trolls.

Then... a distant roar was heard. It was chilling, terrifying. Zalodale, the name he had inherited from his father, immediately started peering his surroundings, in search of the origin of such ungodly sound. Some moments after, he catches a glimpse of someone... or something moving close-by. It was quite dark, so it wasn't clear of what it was... The question was soon answered as a hunched, animal-like creature appeared from behind a tree. A mechanical sound was heard in the distance. Zalodale was frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the small, feral beast. It growled in a low tone; the elf immediately prepared his bow and an arrow, aiming it at the animalistic humanoid, ready to shoot should it attack. The distant sound was approaching; it was clear now that trees could be heard being tore apart. Though, he was concentrated on the beast. A flash of moonlight revealed the ghoul's feral face. It was the most horrible thing he had ever seen in his years of life.

He didn't have much time to stare at the ghoul, as soon more and more appeared behind the first one. He realized he was outnumbered and decided the best option was actually run away and warn his father.

His house was visible in the distance. It wasn't too much compared to the more rich families, but it would serve the purpose. He slammed the door open in haste, quickly running around the house in search of his parent. Zalodale felt a strange mist in the air... it was quite strong... it was unpleasant too; that worried him as he hastily kept the search. Finally, he gave up from searching -inside- the house and went outside, around the back... just to find his father lying down on his back. The air was glowing in an odd green around the limp body. Nonetheless, he approached and kneeled beside his beloved. Soon, he regretted such, as the mechanical sound was revealed. It was a grotesque, large, wooden machine. The same green mist was surrounding the thing. It was at a fair distance. Zalodale tried to pick up his father to carry both away. It simply slowed him down; the plague spreader shot a barrel close to them. The small explosion made the elf fall to the side... everything went unclear... blurry. Slowly... he lost consciousness.

---

... He blinked his eyes as he "woke up". He tried to sit up, but with no avail. He was strapped down to a table. He turned his head to some voices. They were... they looked like corpses... it was odd. He let out a groan. “What... are you...?” he asked them. It was the first thing that came up to his mind. Soon, they approached him, replying, "The same as you... brother.". He didn't believe what he heard. What had happened? They seemed to know what was running through his mind, "You are a victim of the plague spread by the Undead Scourge... We all are. You are an undead now. A free one. You are Forsaken."

Some days later, he was freed. He walked out, to find the old Blackened Woods ravaged by Undeath. He could not believe such. "This isn't Eversong...", he muttered to himself. Death. Undeath. All that was living was... unliving. It was too much for him.

He went south, as he had heard of a town being built for and by Forsaken. In the ruins of Lordaeron. There he went... a new life... or unlife ready to be unfolded.