Wimrick

Information

Player: Darkneon

Character Full Name: Wimrick Hagin Vaultspringer

Character in-Game Name: Wimrick

Nickname(s): None

Association(s): Gnomeregan, Ironforge

Race: Gnome

Class: Warrior (default)

Age: 136

Sex: Male

Hair: White (w/Blue Tint)

Eyes: Hazel

Weight: 43 pounds

Height: 3'

Appearance

Cloth-based materials, and not to forget -- his favorite leather hat.

Other: A journal.

Personality

Wimrick… I could tell you a load about this little bugger. For one, he's always keeping himself busy. I once put a cake in front of him, and he didn't as much as glance at it 'till he was done writing one those fancy papers of his. I mean: Who in their right mind doesn't have time for cake? Bah, you could tell by the look in his eye he's always thinking his way through things. Certainly not about my famous triple-chocolate cake, though.

He's not a dwarf, so it's safe to assume he's non-alcoholic. He is a social drinker on occasion, but has none of that “off-the-rack swill”. He's also a got a very cheesy smile, He uses it often, so you'll always know when he's delighted. Like most of his kind, he's very tolerant, but not stupid. He's got a nose for snubbing out the bad lot. I think it's 'cause he listens so damn much. Then he turns his ears off for just a second and starts letting the words flow out like a broken faucet. He's very articulate with his words, but very easy to understand.

Then there's those times you try to rush him. He can be as slow as old Miss Gertrude, bless her heart. You sometimes have to give him a "gentle push", by which I mean punt him over the side of a cliff. I'm exaggerating, but I often want to. He'll get all fatherly on you, hugging his eyebrows to his nose, and wave around his superior fingers. (Oh, how dreadful the almighty fingers of scorn!) After a good wag or two of the digits, he'll begin to explain the virtues of patience! I don't try to stress him much anymore, not even for fun. Those fingers of his are very pointy.

In the Lab, he's his regular self. Occasionally, he makes small talk to keep the silence from biting at you like a termite on wood. Though quietly enough that you don't end up dropping another vial of potassium nitrate and charcoal into your Bunsen burner. (I do miss my gorgeous mustache.)

In the field, that's where you get a peek at his feral side! You never know what's going to come through the brush, but you know he's always got his trigger finger on "Matilda". Indeed, he did name his gun. I see nothing wrong with it, but feel free to judge. Over the years, Mr. Vaultspringer here has composed himself quite a cranium of data. So, that makes surviving out there much easier.

All in all, Wimrick's a pretty friendly guy who knows how to appreciate good humor. He loves adventure, and he loves sharing them with others. Nevertheless, digging around in unknown places can get you in quite a pickle. In which case, you just have to hope he won't outrun you, aye?

History

Wimrick was born in Gnomeregan in Year -103 to Hagin Tometosser, a short-tempered librarian, and Wimmy Smallrig, an engineer. He was named after his mother, Wimmy. He claims to have been a legendary prankster. Although the worst he ever did was place a lit firework in the gunpowder shop. It wasn't that big of a deal, so I don't know why everybody made a big fuss over it.

He grew up with just enough, but not too much and was given just the appropriate amount of attention. He loved it when Wimmy took him to work with her, where he eventually developed his engineering skills. When studying, his father was also a huge help. Although, Wimrick was constantly scorned when he did not remember information or spoke it inaccurately.

His role model, Clopper Wizbang (The first Gnome ever to join the Explorers' League) kept him striving to become successful. Wizbang wasn't actually there rooting him on, but Wimrick was motivated by the promise of adventure and achievement, especially to the extent of what Clopper had achieved. Wimrick wanted to be just like him. History Amnesia turned into Trivia, and he read more and more, until he was the one correcting his father.

By that time, though, he had already moved out of his parent's hovel and was reaching adulthood. He found a paying job in Crazzle Fiddlestick's mechanical shop as a filing clerk. He was soon promoted to assistant manager, and acquired the money he needed to travel to and buy a small dwelling in Ironforge and quit his job. It was the next step in continuing his pursuit of knowledge.

There, he joined a lab in Tinker Town that specialized in animal husbandry, crude medicine, and alchemy. For the next 15 years he studied both botany and zoology, interests that would fuel his want to explore Azeroth.

In Year -63, he felt his skills were good enough to finally apply for the Explorers' Guild. His life would hit a major hurdle when he found out that they were not interested. Less than a dozen minorities make it into the dwarf-dominant guild each year, and Wimrick thought he had a chance. His dream was crushed, but he wouldn't allow anyone to tell him what he could and could not do. He was always optimistic, in a sense.

Although being denied membership, Wimrick was granted permission to read from the public library the Explorers' Guild hosted. Not only did it contain information on organisms he never believe existed, but it contained history far beyond anything Wimrick had ever seen. It was like turning to the last page of a giant book, just to find out it was only the first volume.

Throughout his early adulthood, Wimrick continued to advance his studies in botany and zoology, extending it to ecology and astronomy. Through hard work and greater knowledge, he was promoted to chief researcher and head of operations for the laboratory. He was even allowed to accompany an expedition into Khaz Modan in Year -30.

These accompaniments turned into regular field work, but he never did again chase his old dream. Whether out of fear of rejection or simply aspiring to greater objectives, it didn't matter. Wimrick was gaining real life experience, which was better than all the gold in Azeroth.

The laboratory was eventually run out of business by aggressive local competition and Wimrick was left unemployed. He wasn't too fazed, as it was about time he became his own boss, and the smell of a bigger world haunted him at the gates of Ironforge, calling out to him like a freshly baked pie on a windowsill. Wimrick marched to Tinker Town and purchased a business permit. With what little money he had left, he bought the equipment he needed and began finding non-commissioned work amongst the quarry sights in the mountains.

Five years passed before he acquired the money needed to hire a crew of his own. He finally set out to explore unknown regions and dwell deeper into the history of Azeroth. By selling copies of his research to a more than willing Explorers' Guild, Wimrick was able to keep his dream alive.

Today, he still retells stories of the most exciting explorations they made. His personal favorite was when his research team descended into the deserted catacombs of Stranglethorn Trolls.

The place was very damaged, with occasional holes in the floor that were hardly wide enough to be leaped. The trolls had bobby trapped it to the brim! The worst one was a room that contained artifacts illustrating troll history back to 3,000 years ago. They rapidly began work, and that was when the trap activated. A rolling stone groaned across the entrance and sealed them inside the vault. The movement alone was powerful enough to crack the tomb's supports, and the ceiling began to fall apart. Wimrick quickly used materials they had with them and some of the artifacts to embed crude dynamite into a nearby wall. They took cover behind a hastily built barrier and he blasted a hole that crumbled away the weakening stone and allowed them to jump out. The frail section of the catacombs quickly began to follow, but Wimrick had known their path well enough to run them to the entrance, where they sprung safely into the jungle as the threshold to the crypt sealed shut behind them ; Thus, earning him his name- Vaultspringer.

Eventually, the dream would have to be put on hold. The Second War had erupted and Wimrick was being called back to the dwarf lands to do his duty. He disbanded his 26 year-old research team with a heavy heart and headed back to assist his kin in finishing the construction of the Deeprun Tram.

Wimrick was 128 years old when the troggs came. He was still 128 when he learned within the safety of Ironforge, that his parents had still been in Gnomeregan when the radiation was released. The year was a miserable one. He didn't pick up a single tome, and everywhere around him could he see the sorrowing faces of countless people.

Life would not wait, however. Morale began to pick up again. In honor of his parents Wimrick took up his father's name and always gave internal remembrance to his mother when his name was spoken.

Now, he wishes to begin his journeys into Azeroth's uncharted lands once more. Maybe achieve his greatest dream and start a laboratory of his own. All he needs...is a crew.