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Spiligrack [Death Knight] [History change]
#1
Player: Ben

Character Full Name: Spiligrack (Any true name has been lost)

Character In-Game Name: Spiligrack

Nickname(s): None yet.

Association(s): Gnomeregan, The Ebon Blade, The Scourge (Ex).

Race: Gnome (Spiligrack has lost little flesh as of yet, making sure his armour is in pristine condition to stop this occuring.)

Class: Death Knight

Age: 151

Sex: Male

Hair: A light grey colouring, that is matted down to shoulder length. He also has a moustache that looks increasingly like that of Mario.

Eyes: A glowing, runic blue.

Weight: 14kg

Height: 0.93m

Usual Garments/Armor: Spiligrack normally wears a robe, with armoured plates beneath to offer limited protection.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality: Spiligrack is a rude and deceptive individual. He plays sides against eachother, and observing the result, amused. He however has no real disagreement with any race, having served alongside many during his time under the Lich King's control. The effects of wearing a Saronite-made armour set has obviously tolled on his mind, giving him twisted visions of realities that could be, and a dark interest in different ways death could occur, and what happens to the bodies afterwards.
Spiligrack hears voices. Haunting voices. Like echoes of the Lich King's will left in his mind. They tell him to do things, but occasionally he doesn't want to do these things and openly goes to war with his own mind, toiling with himself, sometimes even while in battle, leading to possibly horrific occurences, just like the voices told him would happen...

History: Spiligrack was born in Gnomeregan before the Trogg invasion, and spent his childhood forming mechanical contraptions from the spare pieces that littered the subterranian city, occasionally experimenting with explosives to little result. He had always been fascinated with combat, and proving to the larger races that Gnomes were good on the battlefield aswell as in the workshop. It was in his adulthood where this dream came to realisation.

The story of Arthas' slow descent into insanity intrigued the Gnome. It intrigued and scared him, that a sentient being could change so much, and so quickly. Spiligrack listened to the stories of Arthas' betrayal of his father in Lordaeron, and of his return once more to Northrend, worrying evermore about a pending invasion of Khaz Modan after Lordaeron falls. He decided that his dream of improving the Gnomish standing amongst the other races as warriors could improve, while the new Scourge were pushed back to the North.

Spiligrack had had scirmishes with the Orcs, fighting alongside the Dwarven and Humans. These occasions were not frequent, but he felt that they acheived his purpose of proving the Gnomish race to the others. It was on one of these battlefields, although not fighting Orcs, that he died. He was fighting the Scourge, a foe that was unlike any he had fought before, never tiring, and relentless in their assault. Many of his allies fell on that day, and he did among them. A ghoul launched itself at him and bore into his armour, Death coming quickly and painfully.

Spiligrack opened his eyes. Confusion coursed through his mind. He felt cold. A huge suit of armour in front of him. It raised a large arm and pointed behind him, he rose and followed, not recognising the creature, but it looked as if it was the result of a Scourge experiment to combine a cow with a human, since he had never seen a Tauren. Doors, huge, and unlike anything he had seen before opened before him, and he walked through into a large circular room, he immediately walked over to a high table which seemed to have armour on it, was everything here made for the larger races? How despicable.

He found a small stool and leapt onto it, finding a dark suit of armour that seemed to be his size upon the table. It looked dirty and broken, how could he wear THAT! Despite these thoughts he was already putting it on, what was happening? Surely nobody could be controlling him. A panic fluttered through Spiligrack as he pulled a hood over his head and climbed down from the seat and walked towards a Night Elf with an assortment of blades behind him.

He was ordered to choose a blade, and for the first time since waking he felt a will of his own. He chose a long, dark blade, and was handed it by the Night Elf, and he toyed with it, getting a feel for its balance, which seemed to be perfect, unlike anything he had ever used before. The Night Elf was talking, but Spiligrack did not listen, enchanted by the blade, not noticing as the iron will seeped back into his mind.

He found his legs taking him towards a large skull-like forge with strange coloured flames, and seemed to know that it was time to choose the path he must take, one of blood, frost, or of unholy might. He did not think, he immediately began forging the weapon into one that took on the characteristics of the path of Blood. Running over to a dummy he swung the blade into it, an evil smirk spreading over his face at the large slice left in it. At that moment part of his old self died as sorry a death as he had already physically suffered.

He trained in the frozen wastes of Northrend for days on end, possibly weeks, he lost track on time as he found himself as the Scourge that had killed him, never tiring, relentless in their assault on life. He discovered entire civilisations that he could take a part in conquering and allowing the Lich King, the master he now realised he diligently followed, to raise them as minions and pawns in the assault of all life on Azeroth.

However the Battle of Light’s Hope Chapel changed everything. The sinister and iron will of the Lich King left him, leaving a large wound on his mind, it had been twisted into a shape it could never recover from. In freedom he heard tales of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, fighting the Lich King in Northrend, and pitied them. Why would he want to return there? However a recent greeting from one of these Knights informed him that that was where he should be, not amusing himself on Azeroth.

Spiligrack then decided that he would attempt to aid these Knights, but avoid Northrend in any way that was possible, for his darkest nightmares reigned in that place. Nightmares he himself had created. The Knights then forced his hand, transporting him to Northrend against his wishes to aid against the Lich King and so the ultimate sacrifice was needed for his captor. His Elven captor underestimated his lack of visible armour and so did not expect the explosion that destroyed her skull. The act alienated him from the Knights of the Ebon Blade. Some of those Knights also believe it was he who committed the atrocity, and seek to destroy him.

Skills and Abilities: Spiligrack, ever the connoisseur of technological excellence, has many tricks up his sleeve. From tranquillisers to explosive rockets. He sacrifices regular use of his armour for this. He is highly proficient in both Engineering and Alchemy, but almost solely in offensive capacities.
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#2
Only two things.

One, the age should be the total age, not the one at the time of death.

Two,
Quote:Other: Spiligrack, ever the connoisseur of technological excellence, has many tricks up his sleeve. From tranquillisers to explosive rockets. He sacrifices regular use of his armour for this.

This is better fit in the "Skills" section.
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#3
What skills section...have you people changed the layout again?!
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#4
Check the "Restart Profile Guide!" in my signature, or in the main section of this forum.

You nub.
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#5
HAPPEH NOW, EH?! EH!!

Nubsmakingmechangeprofilesthatareyearsold.
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#6
Jus' doing my job, sir. Now let's see what else we need to ch-

Sir, put the gun down. Sir?
Sir?

OH GOD PLEASE DON'T MAN OH G-


*Ahem* How does this work? Oh, there we go. Approved!
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