Walter Blackwood

Information

Player: MrMonkey

"A Bathetic Wretch, he shall not be mentioned again in my presence."

Character Full Name: Walter Blackwood

"Sir Walter Blackwood, A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Character In-Game Name: Walter

"I assume that is all with the introductions?"

Nickname(s): None, sometimes refereed to as Mr. Shady but rarely.

"Walter will do, My good Sir."

Association(s): The Horde and Undercity, no other known ties to any organizations thus far.

"But, My Good man, I would love to learn about you first."

Race: Deceased human, Forsaken.

"Oh, I'm just under the weather a bit, I'll look more lively soon enough."

Class: Rogue

"I'm just a humble gentleman."

Age: At the time of Death 29, Currently 36. "Why bother yourself with such trivial things? I'm sure there are more interesting things I could tell you."

Sex: Male "Clearly that would have been obvious from the start."

Hair: Long black hair, always neatly groomed. "Treat your body like a temple, they say, Do keep that in mind."

Eyes: Yellow, dough his right eye seems to have a strong hint of red in it. "Excuse me, you seem to have become lost in my eyes."

Weight: 187 Pounds.

Height: 5,9 feet

Appearance

Usual Garments/Armor: Walter prefers long clothing that hide his undead nature. The clothing is most often black or at the least dark. A long wide cloak that covers him from neck to his boots when pulled around himself. Under that he wears a matching leather chest-piece over a dark long sleeved silk shirt, pants made from cured leather and a pair of long fancy, fancy looking leather boots. On his belt hang an expensive looking rapier along with some basic engineering tools and a dagger. several pouches also hang from his belt along with a single one on both of his legs. He also has a hood that he often wears with a silk or a woolen scarf pulled up over his nose. A pair of round black glasses also sit on his nose to hide away his glowing dead eyes. "I'm positive you can gather all you need about my clothing preferences by taking a quick glance at me."

Other: His clothing is lined with many pockets to keep all of his items in as he hates to wear a bag with him. By his outward appearance, especially when he keeps his face covered, he would look like a thinly gentleman in his late 30's. He also keeps a bottle of cologne with himself at all time to smell as nice as possible. "I do say, Sir, that his conversation is turning into something of an interrogation. Don't you agree?"

Alignment: True Neutral.

Personality

Walter is almost always calm, getting him angered can be considered something of a feat as he tends to take anything thrown at him with a cold stomach. Spewing insults at him is usually going to just get a hearty chuckle out of him or maybe rarely a witty comeback. He also likes to act very posh and uptight most of the time but is ruthless when it comes down to a fight. At the first glance it would look like he was a friendly man in his late 30's who decides to act much older to his age. He is quick to strike up a conversation even when it has nothing to do with him as he is quite social when he wishes to. "So, you wish to learn more about me? In that case, how about a story?"

History

Walter was born into a poor family working as servants for a small Lord. The manor was located southeast of Stratholme in the area now known as Eastern Plaguelands. He was loved by his parents but from early on he started to become an angry kid, always wishing for more. He never showed it, instead keeping his feelings hidden inside. He saw the Lords' kids play around in the large estate, with all those expensive toys, while he had to make do with the ones that were broken and not wanted by those spoiled brats or what little his parents could afford to buy him. He was merely a year younger than the oldest kid in the Lords family and so when he was 5 the other kids often asked him to play with them.

They quickly became friends and Walter was doing everything with them. It was a pleasant act. Deep down he hated their guts. Why were they so special? Why did they get everything what they asked while all he had were a few nick-knacks not worth a copper? It was not fair. If He could not enjoy that then they should not either. That boiling hate grew and grew inside until one day his cup got too full and the anger spilled out like the floodgates were released.

Him and Thomas, the Lords oldest, were playing near the small river that went past the mansion. They were alone because, the little rascals that they were, they managed to sneak away from the people meant to guard Thomas. They played and played until something happened. Thomas slipped on one of the rocks and fell. It was glorious. The river ran almost red with the blood as his skull cracked on a particularity sharp rock. Walter just stood there for a while, his hands still held out from when he pushed Thomas. It was clear from the movement of Thomas' eyes that he was alive even after the fall. He did not scream, not even try to whimper. He just raised his hand for Walter to help him up. All he got was a smile.

Walter ran back to the estate, his eyes red and tears running down his eyes. It was not hard to act like he was crying after he almost laughed himself senseless looking as Thomas slowly succumbed to the embrace of death. He cried for help. Thomas had fallen and he didn't move. What was wrong with him? Why did he not move? It was comical how much people trust the words of a 7 year old when he is crying. So the servants ran to the river but all they could do was retrieve the small body. He was dead almost an hour when they got to him. But loosing a brother is very scarring to young people, so the two remaining kids just pushed themselves deeper into Walters warm embrace. He gave them a weak smile as they were crying. It will be better soon, come, let's read some of those books you love so much.

Years passed and Walter was just waiting for another moment to strike again. In the years that came he became almost a part of the Lord's family. When Whesly and Catherine, Lords remaining children, started their educational road, Walter was also taken along. He was taught the etiquette, refinement and anything else an up and coming lord would need. He became an educated young man and a good duelist with the rapier. Something he and Whesly often trained in play fights. But something happened that Walter thought to be impossible. He started to have feelings for Catherine and it was clear the girl also saw something more than a friend in him.

But Whesly was still there. Even if he was like a younger brother to him the sharp edge of hatred had yet to dull in the years. With Catherine it was a different story. She and Walter started courting after a while and by the time they were 17 they decided to make it official. Married just at the age of 18, the couple still lived in the old manor with the Lords family and servants. Walter's parent passed away just the last summer, must have been something they ate; their mangled bodies were found on the kitchen floor, foaming from their mouths. A pity.

In the years to come Whesly and Walter started to look into engineering. Tinkering with different equipment and working out new ways to make something work became something of an obsession to the two. Although the two still kept up the act of attending different feasts and parties most of their night were still spent in the stone cellar of the manor that had been turned into a laboratory. While Whesly was sure that combining magic, engineering and alchemy there would be no stopping the two. Walter disagreed every time so instead he just kept working on different mechanical contraptions.

Then, just barely a month or two, before the news of scourge's coming covered the land, Walter and Whesly were working in the lab when Whesly suddenly dropped his book of alchemy and reading glasses to take hold of his neck. The sharp wire was digging deep into his neck. He moved his head a little to the side to look over his shoulder, the wire cutting deeper and deeper into his neck. His eyes were clear, he silently asked why Walter was doing this. All he got was a smile.

He didn't stop until the wire was wrapped around Whesly's spine. With a quick flick of his wrists the wire found it's way between the vertebrate and Whesly's head fell on the ground with a quiet thud. It even bounced a little. It was perfect. Whesly was supposed to leave for Lorderon the next day to show his new inventions. It would be easy to hide the body and say that he left during the night to get there early. On the way he would have met an unfortunate end and no one would be the wiser. The shriek from behind him snapped Walter out of his train of thought as he watched Catherine standing at the top of the stairs with a tray of food. Blueberry cupcakes, Walter's favorite.

He wanted to run, sprint up the stairs and throw her down the steps to her doom. He wished so but there was something holding him back. He could not bring himself to hurt her. Her long flowing golden hair, her innocent love filled eyes, that naughty smile she got whenever she looker at Walter, the soft tanned skin. How could someone bring themselves to hurt the most perfect angel like her. But her skin was now white like the snow, her mouth contorted into a shape of horror, her eyes wide like dinner plates and her hair turning sticky with the sweat. How could he do it to her? He fell on his knees, hands raised, begging for forgiveness. His clothing covered in blood. She could not forgive him.

The massive pain at the back of his head woke him from his thoughts only to be put to sleep by the combined effort of the hit and the cold hard embrace of the ground. The guardsmen had rushed into the room while Walter was busy wailing in his own sorrow. He was beaten right there in the cellar until he stopped moving and left there. He was left there. Alone. With the corpse of his "Brother" along with him. Why didn't they move him? Who knows.

It was when he woke that he understood his predicament. He was closed into the cellar. The stone walls and floors made it impossible to break out. Nowhere near enough equipment was in there to make something to clear the way to freedom. He was closed in there until he had to survive off the corpse of Whesly. How long did this go on? Hard to say. With no sunlight to say when the sun came up or went down it might have been just a day, maybe months. Whesly's watch had also stopped when his body hit the ground. Kind of fitting, master's creation dying with it's master.

When nothing was to eat, Whesly being cleaned from every scrap of nutrition Walter could find he was forced to starve to death. Alone.

It was when the necromancer resurrected him that time started to have a meaning for him. The time spent under the necromancers control was short lived though when Walter started to gain more and more free will. Until the night he gnawed on the necromancers neck. The necromancer had made the mansion his new home so Walter felt right at home when he managed to break free. He looted the already barely-standing manor of anything of worth and moved out. Little is left of the manor now other than a pile of stones with just Whesly's skeleton hiding underneath.

He wandered for a while, the guilt of how he had killed his parents and the people who had considered him family was too much for him. Having lost everyone close to him he created something of an alter-ego for himself. Walter Blackwood, Gentleman adventurer. Using his coin to buy himself clothing that would hide his undead nature, basic equipment for adventuring along with some inventions from the manor. But traveling soon took it's toll. Having too much time to think about his actions he understood he had to somehow repent. He had done wrong to others but maybe, just maybe, if he could help those who are wronged by monsters like him he could rest easy.

So happened that on his travels he stumbled on a local myth. The Dark Man. A dark wanderer who leads anyone who has hurt others into a shallow grave, marked only by the victims burnt black hand sticking out of the ground. In a single night he decided to make the Dark Man a reality. So started his killing spree. Wandering into town under the name of Walter Blackwood and scouting out all the thieves and cut-throats he could find and starting to lead them to shallow graves. This is my burden, My gruesome legacy.

"Fear The Dark Man. The one who wanders alone."

Skills and Abilities

The Forsaken Neck-tie – Walter has a special set of gloves that he almost never takes off. His left hand containing a small roll of wire that is wicked sharp, think of a deadly cheese-wire, that he can pull out and retract if needed. His left glove being designed with metal plates so he can wrap the wire around his hand and choke a person if needed or maybe cut something off as flesh cant resist the cut of the wire. The downside is that a wrong move can injure or cripple Walter as badly as the person it is used on.

Let's see what makes you tick – He is also well versed with engineering and thus has great understanding of the art. Many of the gadgets he brings with him are made by himself as he does not trust anyone else making his toys.

Distracting Disguise – Walter takes great care of his looks, making sure that he looks as lively as possible. Hiding most of his revealing features under clothing he would be considered an sickly looking gentleman before a forsaken posing as one. With the clothing, his black glasses and a bottle of perfume he would fool most people unless the person could smell his true stench or without his set of clothing.

En Garde – Well trained fighting with a rapier Walter often has the upper hand in a sword fight, unless the opponent was using brawling techniques or had a weapon that overpowers his. With the rapier in one hand and a dagger in the other he can strike his opponent when they lest expect it.

Ace Up The Sleeve - Walter has a small single shot pistol hidden in his sleeve that he uses when things should get too heated for him. Due to the gun being so small it is very low caliber and thus is useless unless the person is more than one or two meters away from him. Reloading it takes also some time so relying on long-range combat with it is suicide.