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  1. Sleep was unnecessary for a death knight. Without sleep, days and nights blended together. A month could be one long endless day, separated only by experiences. However, when there were no new experiences, when each day was a repetition of the day before, keeping track of how much time lapsed was nearly impossible. With that in mind, Northrend was a suitable place to become lost. Large patches of snowy tundra, habitable only to Vrykul or Drakkari trolls, were the perfect place to wander. Here and there, a servant to the Lich King might shamble by. Though he raised a great deal of creatures from the dead, it was often difficult to tell what they may have been in life by skeletal remains alone. It was in this environment that Catalinetta found herself, walking without purpose, seeking only ways to satiate the axe that thirsted for blood and suffering. She was a young elf, in life. In death, she still appeared young; small in stature, her black hair tied up in pigtails. Eyes that once glowed the same fel green of her fellow Sin’dorei now glowed a bright blue, the same iridescent color that witnesses claimed to have seen emanating from Frostmourne. Wearing the same armor that she wore in life, the same armor that failed to protect her from a killing blow, the death knight wandered. Before her eyes, reality drifted in and out of her consciousness like pieces of a puzzle. One moment, she was walking. The next, her gauntlets and axe were covered in blood. Breathless corpses stared at her from the ground; trolls, Vrykul, it made no difference. Their once warm bodies emitted steam as they hit the snow, reaching for her with shaky hands before death took them. She was death incarnate. How long has it been? Catalinetta wondered silently, hunger gnawing at the base of her mind. A strange numbness had overcome her body, which ignored the freezing atmosphere. Catalinetta considered what might have become of her, were she alive in this place. Frostbite, starvation, a slow death. She heard that when one froze to death, it felt as if one were simply falling asleep. Thinking of that blissful end, she walked, snow crunching beneath her small feet. Eventually, she came upon the living. Vrykul saw the death knights and their kin as abominations, cursed to never reach the promised mead halls. They would attack her, and meet a bloody end. Catalinetta’s axe drank from their blood, feeding her body to mend wounds and satiate the nagging desire for death and suffering which plagued her and every other death knight. Today, however, she came across another death knight. He was walking alone, singing. “By moonlight we ride “Ten thousands side by side “With swords drawn held high “Our whips and armour shine” Catalinetta watched him walk. Even from far away, she could tell that he was also once Sin’dorei. Long ears protruded from the openings in his helmet. At his back, a black sword glowed with bright blue runes. “Hail to thee our infantry “Still brave beyond the grave “All sworn the eternal vow “The time to strike is now” His voice was deep and soothing. He didn’t seem to be walking anywhere with any great effort, as if he too were simply wandering, lost in this place of cold and death. Catalinetta ran to catch up, suddenly remembering herself. She was a death knight, this was Northrend. An elf was singing, his voice reminiscent of the singers in Quel’thalas. Legs pumping with more strength than she realized she had, Catalinetta closed the gap between her and the other elf. By the time she made it to his side, she understood his destination. Before them lie a small settlement of Vrykul. A handful of the living human-like creatures were busy with construction. Turning toward Catalinetta, the singing knight smiled from under his helmet. It was a gruesome smile. Though his mouth was intact, a chunk of his face had been ripped away. His right eye and cheek were stripped of flesh and skin, leaving only damaged bone behind. Whatever magic animated death knights kept the necrosis at bay, exposing what seemed like a permanently fresh wound, frozen in time. It was a strange contrast to his smile, which seemed to come easily despite his missing features. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. Catalinetta stared, memories prickling in her brain. He wore the armor of a blood knight. His hair was blonde, though faded from exposure. “Hi.” “What are you doing?” He asked her, as if he’d caught her, and not the other way around. “Following you?” She answered, confused. “Well,” the death knight smiled, turning toward the Vrykul. “That is a silly thing to do.” Catalinetta followed his gaze. “Are you going to kill them?” She asked, her axe goading her toward the obvious answer. “Yes I am. I am going to kill them all,” he answered, walking toward the settlement without looking to her again. “I am going to make them suffer, and then I am going to walk some more.” “But why are you walking?” “To forget,” he answered simply, approaching the Vrykul as if he were a friend. Immediately, the large humanoids leapt into battle. With axes, they attacked the death knight, crying out in rage as a runeblade sword cut through their limbs. Catalinetta followed behind, and was spotted immediately by another Vrykul. He charged her, screaming with fury, axes raised to hack her to pieces. Answering in kind, Catalinetta swung her runeblade axe toward his stomach, emptying his entrails into the snow. Her axe eagerly absorbed the blood, and for a moment, Catalinetta could feel the cold biting at her skin. Looking toward the other death knight, she watched as he trudged through the settlement, making short work of anyone who fought him. Screams eventually died down, leaving silence in their wake. Steam from the corpses drifted through the air, like a trail of smoke following the death knight with the missing eye. Catalinetta scrambled to follow him. “Who are you?” She asked, falling in step behind him. “No name,” the death knight answered, sheathing his sword. Catalinetta frowned a little. “How can you have no name?” “Easy,” he answered, turning to smile at her. “I lost it. I died, and was brought back to life by the Lich King. He sent me off to battle. My name didn’t matter anymore, so I lost it along the way. Now I walk, and the more I walk, the more I forget. Just call me No-name.” The words were familiar. Had she thought them, before? “I think I came here for that, too,” she said out loud. The conversation wasn’t exactly stimulating, but it felt like the first one she had in a long time. “I think…” No-name laughed a little. “The days and nights don’t end, here. It’s all just one long day. Or maybe one long dream. Who can say? All there is to do is walk, and kill. That’s what we are. We’re walking death.” “Walking death?” He turned to face her. He was beautiful, once. Long blonde hair, a chunk of flesh missing from his face, fresh blood dripping from the wound on to his armor. He was familiar. Somewhere in her memories, a beautiful blonde knight looked down at her with that same smile of encouragement. Somewhere else in her mind, a horrifying grimace. But that elf’s eyes burned with the fel green flames of the Sin’dorei, and this one’s eyes burned the pale blue fire of the Lich King. “Walking death,” he repeated, turning to continue on his march, singing in a clear voice for all to hear. “To the battle we ride “We crossed a starlit sky “No space, no time “We'll catch the wind” Memories flooded her vision. The blue eyes of the Lich King, the green eyes of the blood knights. Long blonde hair draped over her face, short black hair between her fingers. Her heart ached, and she followed the death knight, yearning to forget. “Strange losses, men died “We crossed a starlit sky “And still no space and time “We'll catch the wind” A short intake of breath, the sound of him singing. “We’ll catch the wind” A flash of blue light, unholy magic coursing through her flesh. “We’ll catch the wind” Metal striking metal, metal striking bone. Ripping through her armor, a runeblade sawing at one of her femurs. “We’ll catch the one.” A scream of pain, blood splashing against the grass. She was overwhelmed, blue eyes staring down toward her. “We’ll catch the one.” Grabbing her by the hair, dragging her into the air. Struggling against their grip, as blood began knitting at her wounds. Her runeblade axe lie in the ground, retrieved by a large hand. “We’ll catch the one who defected.” Burning blue eyes staring at her through a helmet, the body of an orc, his throat heavily scarred. She turned in the direction of the other voice, a familiar voice that once sang in the frozen tundra of Northrend. He smiled at her, the chunk of flesh still gone from his face, a single blue eye staring at her as he held Catalinetta up by the hair. She could feel her scalp separating from her skull, white hot pain coursing through her nerves. Still, he smiled at her. “Well, look at what we have here,” the one-eyed death knight said to Catalinetta, as her hair threatened to rip her flesh from her face. “A defector.” Unable to argue the truth in his words, she struggled against his grasp. Cat kicked and thrashed, but this was a fellow death knight. Their strength was comparable, and he was large enough to keep her at bay. Finally, she felt huge hands grab her own, and wrench them toward the small of her back, dislocating both shoulders. The popping sound they made was enough to make her scream, until the gauntlet covered hand reached forward to wrap around her face. “Silence,” came a raspy voice, deep and damaged but unmistakably orcish. Her wrists were bound by manacles, tight and cold against her skin. Only then was she allowed to fall to the ground in a heap, her head aching, shoulders burning. Venturing to look up at her attackers, she finally understood what was happening. Two death knights had her subdued; one of them, a knight she met in Northrend, what seemed like a lifetime ago. The other, a familiar orc; Azilrog. “Something’s funny with you,” said No-name, studying her with his one eye. “I can see you breathing, and your bones are trying to mend themselves. I’ll bet it hurts, doesn’t it? Since you can’t pop your shoulders back in… the pain must be terrible, but that’s what happens when you defect. You shouldn’t have tried to run away, little kitten.” Cat opened her mouth to speak, but was once again silenced by Azilrog’s hand. “Enough,” he coughed, hoisting her up by the stomach to deposit her small body on the back of his death charger. “Oh kitten,” No-name chuckled, her axe in his hands. He smiled to her as cheerfully as she remembered, his single eye focused on hers. “We’re going to have a good time with you.”
  2. Catalinetta walked through the forested area outside of Suramar city. In her short time visiting this place, the death knight had witnessed cruelty that frightened even someone who served the Lich King. Elves, starved for mana, exiled from their home. They wandered these woods, withering away until their minds collapsed and only a frantic lunatic remained. As a Sin’dorei who lived through the years in between the Scourge massacre and the war in Outland, Catalinetta understood the feeling. The withered reminded her of those back home, the wretched who wandered outside of Silvermoon. Though radically different, it seemed like having too much or too little mana was a common issue amongst their people, whether Sin’dorei, Kaldorei or Shal’dorei. I guess we’re not so different on the inside, the death knight thought to herself as she carefully traipsed through Suramar’s forests, looking for something to feed her axe. Having spent the past few nights in Borrowed Time’s infirmary, the runeblade was practically screaming to be fed. Blood, cruelty, either one was needed to satiate the curse every death knight bore. Without feeding her weapon, Catalinetta would share the fate of these withered. Even in her undead state, there was always a price for sanity. Eventually, she came upon a group of withered. They were huddled around what appeared to be a mana crystal that had been dug up from the ground. Shoving each other out of the way, the skeletal elves turned violent and clawed at one another for the crystal. Catalinetta readied her axe and said a prayer for the soon-to-be dead. It never felt good to put them out of their misery, but she considered the suffering they endured and wondered if perhaps death was a better option anyway. Approaching them carefully, the death knight readied her axe to create a rune in the ground that would slow her prey. She was just about to strike when someone beat her to the punch; a group of three Shal’dorei suddenly appeared from behind the trees, and struck down their afflicted brethren to take hold of the ancient mana crystal. Cat watched as they made short work of the withered with what looked like hastily hand-made weapons, cut from branches and stones. It was only once the withered were dead, and they had the mana crystal safely in their possession did the Shal’dorei notice Cat’s glowing blue eyes from the shade of a nearby tree. “You,” one of them said quickly, holding up a makeshift polearm. “Stay back.” Cat held up both hands, her axe glowing overhead. “I-I’m not going to hurt you,” she said quickly. “I’m not your enemy.” The Shal’dorei regarded her skeptically. It wasn’t just the black armor, or the glowing blue eyes. Death knights projected an uneasy feeling in general, and despite the testing done on her by the Scryers, Catalinetta was no different. “Look,” she said quickly, reaching into her pocket. The Shal’dorei moved into a defensive stance, awaiting some sort of attack. From her pocket, Cat retrieved a handful of mana crystals. “I was collecting them for other fugitives. You can have them if you want.” Still unconvinced of her good nature, the Shal’dorei made no move to approach her. Instead, they glanced at each other for some sort of sign. “Here,” Cat said, attempting to diffuse the situation. With her eyes focused on the supposed leader of the three, she knelt down slowly and placed the crystals on the ground. “Just take them. I don’t need them.” Carefully, the leader approached her. He was much taller than Catalinetta, and sickeningly thin, but still wore the robes of a rich elf, though they were heavily frayed and stained. What were once likely bright white hair and eyes were dull and listless, and Cat could clearly see his pupils beneath the dim glow. As they regarded one another through eye contact, the Shal’dorei scooped up her offering with one hand and pocketed them. “Why offer us this mana?” He asked skeptically, standing to face her. Cat shrugged. “I-I don’t really need it. I was just collecting them to help.” “Help,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes toward the death knight. “Why would an outsider want to help us?” It was a good question. Cat tried not to make any sudden moves, but her nerves got the better of her and she shrugged. “I just… I just wanted to help, that’s all. To do some good.” Silence followed her answer, until one of the other Shal’dorei walked forward. “But you are elven as well. Could you not utilize the mana for yourself?” Cat smiled awkwardly under her helmet. She shook her head, pigtails scratching the inside of her neck as they were squished underneath her helmet. “No… I don’t really use mana, anymore.” The Shal’dorei looked between each other, confused. Noting their bewilderment, Cat reached up with her free hand and removed her helmet. Underneath, she looked like any other blood elf; a cherubic face, round cheeks, long black eyebrows. However, it was clear that there was something different by the gray tint to her skin, and the pale blue glow of her eyes. “I’m a death knight,” she explained. “I was killed during a fight with the Lich King’s army. He brought me back to serve him, but, I broke free. Along with a lot of others.” “You died,” the Shal’dorei male said, his long eyebrows knit with concern. “You died, yet you stand before us.” Cat laughed nervously. “...uh, yeah. That’s the idea.” “You are an abomination,” he said calmly, though there was no malice in his voice. “Yet you have helped us. What do you benefit from this aid to my people?” Sighing, at a loss for how to answer, Cat’s eyes drifted to the ground. As a living Sin’dorei, she dreamed of being a hero. As a death knight, the dream still lived, though she found it increasingly difficult to make sense of the world and how a hero’s heart could survive unscathed. Memories of Light’s Hope Chapel bubbled forth, a reminder of her cowardice. “...redemption.” The Shal’dorei’s eyebrows twitched. Cat’s expression was remorseful, that much was certain, and if she was lying the death knight made no show of it. Carefully, he placed a large hand on one of her pauldrons. His eyes sought hers, the light in them just a little brighter. “Come with me, death knight.”
  3. Full Name: Rokano Dawnblade Nicknames: Elf Date of Birth: Year 598 by the King's Calendar Age: 37 Race: High Elf (Pure Quel’Dorei) Gender: Male Hair: Silver-Blond Skin: Pale, with a hint of Iceberg Blue Eyes: Highlight Turquoise Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 192lb Place of residence: Currently Renting out a room of Ledgermen Lounge in Dalaran Place of Birth: Eversong Woods Known Relatives: Yulani Dawnblade (Mother/Deceased) Koran Dawnblade (Father/Deceased) Hikaro Dawnblade (Brother/Unknown) Religion/Philosophy: Holy Church of Light Occupation: Champion of Light, Hired Sword (Noble Causes) Group/Guild affiliation: Brotherhood of Light (tutelage), Knights of the Ebon Blade (Proxy), Guild of Sanctuary (Member) Guild Rank: Initiate Enemies: Practitioners of Evil and Injustice Likes: Sweets, Chocolate, Minor Indulgences Favorite Foods: Dalaran Brownies Favorite Drinks: Sweetened Goats Milk Favorite Colors: White, Silver, Gold Weapons of Choice: Two Handed Spell-blade Dislikes: Unnecessary Violence. Hobbies: Enjoys Prayer, Watching the Beauty of Nature, and Listening to Minstrels and Bards Sing. Physical Features: Physically fit, Tone, Lean. Special Abilities: Positive Personality Traits: Quiet, Reserved, Trusting and Caring Negative Personality Traits: Quiet, Reserved, Trusting, and Caring Misc. Quirks: Can on occasion be a pervert Played by What Famous Person: Mai’kull, Maleficar of the Grim! Theme Songs: Angel with a Shotgun History: Rokano served as a warrior in the Royal Army under Thalorien Dawnseeker, and was one of the dwindling members of the Church of the Holy Light in his time. A young, passionate, and charismatic individual, his life was cut short at the hand of the Undead Scourge. It was there his body was reanimated as a Death Knight in service to the Lich King. It was many years, which seemed like an unending nightmare to the young warrior, that he performed vile acts under the unbreakable will of the Lich King. It was only till the Battle at Lights Hope Chapple that his mind was freed from the Lich King’s control. Faced with the reality of the atrocity committed by his hands, the death knight tried (unsuccessfully) to end his life, but was found upon by Eligor Dawnbringer, the Crusade Commander of the Brotherhood of Light. It was Eligor who convinced Rokano to find the strength within to see the Lich King to the end, and help atone for his actions. Skeptical, but compliant the now Death Knight served under the Knights of the Ebon Blade through the Northrend Expedition, urged by his holy mentor to attempt to rekindle bonds with his people. Following the defeat of Arthas in Icecrown Citadel, Rokano retreated to a life of servitude, exiling himself to the various chapels of the Church of Light, fulfilling any mundane task he could, in attempt to repent. Many years passed in his service to the cloth, following missionaries and undertaking many pilgrimages for clemency. Occasionally he would pick up a blade in defense of his brothers or the innocent when it was needed, but he abhorred violence, seeing enough at his own hands. He lived comfortably for the most part, as High Elves were still welcome among most of the Alliance, and his Death Knight heritage concealed from all but the senior members of the order. He slowly was pushed into the ranks of the Argent Crusade, his peers attempting to reintegrate him back into the world, as so many other Death Knights had done. It wasn’t until the rise of the Legion, and the all to familiar call of the Lich King came that Rokano left the brotherhood. Fear had gripped his heart at the Kings call, but he felt somewhat relived that this new Lich King sought to protect the world from the Legion, thus reinstating him as a Deathguard under the Knights of the Ebon Blade. Rokano serves the Light by ways of the darkness, using his power of death, pestilence and plague to bring horror to the hearts of those who would seek to upset the peace of the world…
  4. Full Name: Integra Scourgebane Age: 19 Race: Human Gender: Female Hair: Blonde Skin: White Eyes: Death Knight blue, but often hidden Height: Roughly 5'6 Place of residence: Stormwind Place of Birth: Andorhal Known Relatives: None Religion/Philosophy: Firm Beleiver of the Light Occupation: Body Guard Group affiliation: Scarlet Crusade Likes: Fighting, Killing, Doing what she belives the Light wants. Favorite Foods: Cupcakes Favorite Drinks: Melon Juice Favorite Colors: Scarlet Red and White Weapons of Choice: Anything Big, Sharp, Blunt or Pointy. Dislikes: The Scourge, Death Knights, Warlocks, Demons, and anything she ordains an undesirable to the light Hobbies: Forcing her Ghouls to do jobs, such as making cupcakes and cleaning. Physical Features: Fairly average for a Human of her age. Special Abilities: She has one of each rune carved into her body, allowing her to use powers involving runes without having to weild a runeblade. positive Personality Traits: She is extremely loyal, and will do anything to get the job done. Negative Personality Traits: She is too loyal, and is a firm believer that "The end justifies the means.", which often lands her in more trouble than its worth. Misc. Quirks: Almost never seen without her trademark Ruby shades covering her eyes. Integra is a Death Knight that knows what she is but beleives she is superior to any other Death Knight and was given a chance at second life so that she may seek revenge for her fallen allies, she still follows the light as best she can in hopes of redemption for her 'sin' of being a Death Knight, and all she has done against her people. Theme Songs: Limp Bizkit - Behind Blue Eyes Papa Roach - Getting Away with Murder Disturbed - Indestructable Arianne - Komm, Susser Tod (Come, Sweet Death) History: Her Father and Grandfather died fighting scourge in Andorhal, her mother then commited sucide after she found out her husband was dead. Integra joined the Scarlet Crusade in hope of bringing retribution to those that caused her Family's deaths. During her time in the Crusade she met her future Fiance. At the battle in Havenshire her fiance, sacrificed himself to shield her from a rain of arrows. Integra then walked before an archer and purposely let him shoot her with an arrow, in her abdomen. She layed there for what seemed like hours before dying a slow and painful death and in the hours she was laying there Integra did nothing to prevent her fate, no longer having the will to live after losing everything she cared about, once again.
  5. Yo. So, I was thinking about RPing on someone elses post with Urr'Kel (Faynt's, no one else has replied to her thread yet), but so far any RP thread I reply to seems to mysteriously die. So, I'm just curious, before I go and post on someone elses thread, what is your feelings about DK's (my DK in general, links to his stories and stuff below) role playing before WotLK hits shelves? I feel its a very good way to develop character before you play, and gets the RP ideas flowing. So...thoughts?
  6. Going to give this a try instead of just forming a random NPC. It might make for some interesting RP down the road linking storylines together. Character: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=13342 Character name: Anaansuun Description: Supposedly a liason to Arthas he's never actually had direct contact with the Lich King, leading to a suspicion that someone is using him for their own personal motives. Looking for: Rather then to create a random NPC I thought it might be fun to connect someone else's Death Knight with my own. I'm looking for anyone who is interested in having their Death Knight recruit a somewhat sociopathic Draenei who ended up in Northrend two years ago. Restrictions:The basic RP restrictions, but I would prefer someone who is a little devious and needed a, well let's face it....spy for the alliance territory. Maybe they're trying to get in good with Arthas by gathering information or just doing something completely underhanded. Level of RP desired:Only really looking for a tie in to link RPs. It would be more like an aquintance and could generate interesting plots by the tie in. Misc. notes:Though it would probably be easier to have alliance for this but I wouldn't mind horde either. Contact:Just PM me if you are interested.
  7. I'm mulling an idea around my head...and wanted some feedback. The idea was this. A young girl, trained as a paladin and being very devoted to the light, is in a family where the parents, namely the father, is involved with the Cult of theDamned. The daughter, loves her father, an ranks him higher then her devotion, by a long shot. The father, as the plague is being spread, leads her down a dark road, causing her to cast off her light sworn armor for the armor of a deathknight. In modern day, when WoTLK launches, she's going to be UD, mostly because of the time she's sent serving, her father alive ordead depoending if I can get any one who wants to play along. Just looking for opinions before I start seriously writing
  8. New guild formed, nothing really built with it yet so I'm not going to post this in the RP guilds projects. Heres the lowdown of the guild to see if anyone is interested! It is going to be a secretive organization serving the cult of the damned (or actually part of it, not sure yet which I should do) The name means "Servants of Death" in Norwegian I have no intentions of leading this guild, I would very much prefer to pass leadership onto a 70 who roleplays someone who is either becoming a Death Knight, or is a Necromancer, or just serves the Cult of the Damned. This guild is just going to be a mainly roleplay guild, we will not be focusing on PvP or PvE, so it probably will be an alt guild at best. No level restrictions, so creating a lowby to get in on the fun would be fine. Basic story is simple: group that is part of the cult of the damned, they are keeping their intentions secret while they stay in the southern continents of Azeroth serving the Lich King's will. You can PM me for more details, but right now I'm still thinking the stuff up. I've already formed the guild and made the tabard, I'm just waiting for willing people to join.