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Full Name: Carthrolas Andrew Shadowblade
Race: Human, well Half.. It's a Long Story.
Talent: Duel Wielding Maces
Professions: Enchanting / Jewelcrafting
Eyes: Hazel Green
Weight: 185 Lbs.
Home-realm: The Scryers
Garments/Armor: Leather, stitched together from the flesh and hide of various ghouls and geists around Azeroth.
The Story of Carthrolas; Survivor of Stratholme
See, Carthrolas was born early in the Age of the War on the Scourge. Being born in Stratholme, He had lived out His childhood in happiness and a wonder for Adventure, But that had all changed when His Father and Mother had fallen very ill one Day. It was minor cough at first glance, but after only a few Hours, He had watched as it had worsened their condition since the last time He had seen them; His Father's face had been covered with sores and Mother's arms and neck were covered in bruises from the unexplainable symptoms of the Scourge Plague. City Officials had ordered that He no longer live with his Parents until the symtoms had been further studied, so He had slept over His best Friend's House for that night on the Outskirts of Stratholme. As He had been leaving through the city streets and reached outside the walls, He could hear almost every person in town coughing, some even gasping for air. A truely horrible fear had begun to grow in Carthrolas' mind.
When He had awoken next Morning, the Morning sun was glowing a shade of crimson red, and the usual hustle and bustle of Stratholme had grown into complete silence. Even the house He was in had been evacuated, aside from the small worg His Friend had kept as a companion and Himself, everyone had left Him there alone in the darkness. Peeking out of the window at his home-land of Stratholme, He had been strucken speechless as to what He had saw next; his childhood home swarming with Undead, as far as the eye can see in every direction, Ghouls and unspeakable Abominations that would not Hesitate to devour the Life of any living thing to cross their Path. Seeing the very soil and walls of the city painted red with Blood, Carthrolas had then realized that that He had been the only surviving Citizen of His home-land left that had not been afflicted with the Plague. But why Him?
A knock on the door startles Him, bolting down the stairs He had rushed to the door and peeked out to see a Man standing in black robes and a hooded mask with dark markings on parts of his face that were visible, accompanied with a lone Geist by his side, claws dripping with the Blood of his People; Their intent had looked sinister and ill, so he had refused to open the door. Carthrolas goes back upstairs to hide in the room and slams the door shut, only to find the robed Man standing right behind Him. Trapped and mortified, He is frozen with fear. The Man grins wickedly and raises his hand towards him, a spell from his hand had released a spark of black energy; making Carthrolas' vision begin to blacken until he was no longer conscious.
In His state of darkness, He could feel His body being moved around, dropped, and stabbed numerous times. He awakens, covered in Blood and gash wounds, locked in a cage far within a Castle of some sort. His awareness brings the attention of a Skeleton Guard standing guard by his cell. He examines Carthrolas for a moment and exclaims, "THE MEAT- SACK HAS AWOKEN!" The Guard then walks into the other Chamber for a short time before coming back, this time with the hooded Man He had seen moments before losing conscious.
Enraged, He picks up a bone lying within His cell and throws it with all of His might at man through the Cell Bars. He dodges the bone, but the Skeleton Guard behind him being less fortunate, gets the Skull knocked right off of his shoulders. The man Laughs at the situation and the Guard picks his Head back up and places it back on his shoulders and with a Spiteful tone says, "Just wait, Fleshling... Ner'Zhul with have his way with you, THEN we shall see who has the last laugh." The Guard then storms out of the room, slamming the door behind it and leaves you to speak with the Man.
Edited by Carthrolas on 3/24/2013 5:00 PM PDT
After Carthrolas had patched up his own wounds with the Cloth he used from his shirt, The man pulls down his Hood to expose his Face to find it Covered with Dark markings, and simply asks. "Do you know why you're here, Carthrolas?" He looks at him shockingly and asks, "How do you know my na-" The man interrupts abruptly. "THAT IS NOT WHAT I HAD ASKED, DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE?!" Carthrolas replies, "No. I don't know what's going on, where my Family or Friends are, everything Happened so Fast." The Man grins just as wickedly as before and explains. "This wretched place is named Naxxramas, City of the Undead. You are here, because you have some sort of Immunity to the Scourge Plague. For Reasons unknown, You have not been able to contract the Disease because of a certain gene in your Family Line. This strand is so Rare that You are the ONLY surviving civilian of Stratholme there is, all of the Others have been turned into undead or been devoured." Struck by this news, Carthrolas drops to his knees in sheer pain and anguish, knowing that he will never again see All he had known from his Childhood.
The Man examines him for a second. "You have potential. You can prove to be quite useful to the Cult of the Damned." Carthrolas, eyes still tearing from the thought of losing his Family looks at him through the Bars, enraged. "You can go to hell. I don't want anything to do with this Place, or You." The man laughing at your fortune stops and Says, "So that's how it is then? I had saved you from the Legions of Scourge troops from ripping the Flesh from your bone, and this is how I am repaid? I highly doubt that should you deny this proposal, seeing as Many of the Undead here have been particularly Hungry for Stratholme Youngling." Looking around examining his Surroundings, he had found that he had attracted the attention of all of the undead in the Area, all focusing on him with Hungry stomachs with numbers well over 100, Carthrolas had realized that he was in over his head and simply asked, “What needs to be done?” The man grins and Opens the cage, and almost immediately puts an Amulet around His neck. “This will keep any Undead from making any attempts of devouring your Flesh, as long as you are Loyal to our Cause. Should you deny any command, I will deactivate this amulet, and not even Stormwind’s Army will be able to save you from the Hunger of the Scourge. Do you Understand?”
After being drafted into the Cult of the Damned, he had gone through Horrible rituals and Combat training. Carthrolas’ heart and Lungs had been removed Multiple times for study by Cult Scientists, and had even had all of his Blood drained from his body, replacing it with Embalming Fluid. Carthrolas was no longer Human at that time, Though he was Undead, he had No intention of devouring Flesh unlike his new Scourge kin. He had devoted any spare time he had back then to Building a Training Dummy to better his combat skills with Dual Maces for battle, although many of the Cultists had said that Daggers were the weapon of Choice for his Class, he had felt more Power and Speed whilst wielding maces. For this disobedience, he had been beaten with Maces by his fellow Cultists for 3 Hours Straight, and left in his Cage for 2 more Years to recover and Continue training.
Carthrolas was very Close to becoming indistinguishable from the other Geists in Naxxramas, he was given a Punishment Sack for his dedication to the Rogue Arts by his Superiors and was given the rank Geist Lord, giving him Control of all other Geists of the Scourge. This new Power was the key to his Escape.
Edited by Carthrolas on 8/7/2012 2:31 PM PDT
He had proposed to his Superiors that he Launch an Assault on the rest of Azeroth , commanding legions of Scourge to create a Stronghold within the Hillsbrad Foothills. His permission was approved, was granted access to the Transporter and had made Grounds within Stratholme. Carthrolas hasn’t seen or felt the softness of the Earth and Grass for a very long time, and was imprisoned in Naxxramas for 7 Years until only just now being released from the Hellish prison. Maniacal for his freedom, he ran from Stratholme as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, the Scourge had caught wind of his attempt to escape to Civilization and pursued him to No Avail. Carthrolas had developed skills in Stealth in his Years in Naxxramas and had escaped into the Plagued woods that were once called his Homeland, leaving his Cursed Amulet and Punishment Sack behind.
He had Traveled miles and miles on foot, not knowing anything about the Outside world, his instincts drove him South. Over Mountains and through caves he drudged, unable to Sleep, Eat, or Drink, his Undead treatment had finally broken him of Natural needs and was no longer Human. A spark of the past is all that Remains to keep his Human Conscious from going insane, thoughts of his Family and Friends he had lost was the Only thing fueling his urge to find Civilization and take Revenge on the Scourge for what they have done to his People.
He had finally made it to the Burning Steppes, Crossing over thousands of miles of Mountains; At this point, Carthrolas was on his last drop of Faith and had Collapsed from exhaustion on the Charred Fields. Lying on his back, Looking to the sky at the Dark Red clouds and Shadow of the monstrous Blackrock Mountain, he reminisces about the Happiness of his past just before losing Consciousness.
As He awakens, He finds himself lying within a small Tent, His Armor battered and beaten from the Journey, He had not One idea as to where He's Ended up now. His first thoughts were severe, thinking that the Scourge had caught up with Him, and returned Him to the Citadel; but this Surrounding was different. When He had awoke, He had already been covered by a warm, nicely quilted blanket of Human or Dwarven culture. Looking up through the Roof of the tent, He could see the rays of the Sun bearing down on the small foothills that were only barely visible through the complex fabric. Listening closer to His surroundings, He could hear the clanking and banging of Soldiers patrolling in Plate Armor in heavy repetition, hearing these strange and unfamiliar noises had sparked his curiousity.
He gets up and Bolts out of the Tent opening. Still looking and smelling as if he were still part of the Scourge, if He wasn't already; the wounds that he had aquired during the Journey were still Oozing, and it hadn't been Blood. Bleeding embalming fluid or anything else that wasn't Blood at that time, was immediately subject to the Scourge by the Populace of any Faction, Alliance or Horde. A nearby Guard notices that their guest had awaken and had Shouted orders towards the rest of the Stormwind Infantry to quickly surround him with Weapons and Shields drawn from a Distance, All wearing face-masks to protect from possible infection from the Plague. "You! Hold it right there. You have tested positive for Traces of the Scourge plague, and though you are Human, we Cannot allow you to proceed any closer towards our Kingdom or people until you have seen audience with the Abbey Cleric. Should you defy this order, Our troops will have no choice but to use deadly force."
After having waited through 30 Minutes of Guards constantly jabbering about the plague and it's story, A single Priest appears from the Abbey and walks slowly towards Carthrolas, wearing robes of White and Gold, and Her hair as bright as the Sun. She studies the Rogue, seeing that he clearly means no harm to the people, raises both of Her hands towards Him. Carthrolas’ body starts to glow with a Yellow and White light, feeling all of the Taint of the Scourge being removed from his body and being Cleansed of any Plague inside, outside, and Around him. The priest lightly smiles and says aloud, “This Man is not infected, but he is definitely not from around here. His veins are filled with the Fluids used for preserving the Undead, why this is so is Uncertain, but I sense that this man has been through quite the trouble and is Not our enemy, but our Friend. I also sense a powerful desire to avenge something, or someone for a great cause...”
Catching the attention of the commanding General listening to the situation, Soldiers sheath their weapons and slowly walk towards Carthrolas, abruptly stop and Stand attention to Salute the General approaching the young Rogue. His armor very thick and battlescarred, and painted White and Blue. His cautious Eyes studying Him for any signs of Mischief and with a positive tone says. “Welcome, to Northshire Abbey, home of the Stormwind Militia; and Elwynn Forest, Home of all Humans and of the Alliance. Where do you hail from, Traveler?”
Carthrolas, seeing the Terror of Stratholme, chose not to disclose His information with these people nor Anyone He should meet in the near Future, at the Risk of bringing the Scourge to Stormwind by mistake. He tries to cover up his story the best he can to make it sound Convincing. “I’m not even sure.. I wake up, and I don’t remember where I’m from, who my Family is… If I even had Family. The Only thing I can Remember is my Name.” The General raises His eyebrow along with many of the other Troops curious about this character's Origin. “My name is Carthrolas, and I would be Honored to join your Order.” Happy by this decision, the General had put a huge grin on his face and had simply said, "Let's put you to Work then. We shall escort you to Stormwind Keep to offer your Services to the King."
From then on, Carthrolas had been asked to join the Stormwind Army to fight against the Scourge and the many other evils of Azeroth. To this very day, He still wields the very Maces He had been beaten with and chose to train with.
Where and What did He do next? That is another Story.
Edited by Carthrolas on 8/9/2012 5:14 PM PDT
Inconsistent tense and PoV, jumbled grammar, and random capitalization detracts from the story. Strangely, the spelling is spot-on.
Overall, the story is a little naive in its portrayal of reality (fantasy?), but I suppose that can be forgiven. Not the worst story I've read.
Clap, Clap, Clap....... I can't believe you actually took the time to come up with this and actually post it on the forums. I honestly did not take you for much of a role-player let alone a rogue with the wrong spec/glyphs and the wrong weapon proficiency. And if you are just trying to be original with using maces instead of daggers think again you are not Reckful or Original.
Edited by Khorne on 8/9/2012 3:33 AM PDT
I was all gung-ho about reading that, but then the random capitalization kinda turned me off. I'll try struggling through it at a later time. I applaud you for having and posting such a story. MMORPGs are a barren place without the RPG aspect.
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