Character Name: Othragon Rotarm
Character Age: 35+
Character Race: Undead
Sex: Male
Family: Deceased in the second War (rumours speak of an older brother)
Title(s): Captain, Banshee Queen's Spiked Aegis, The Iron Hand of Tarren Mill
Role in the House: High Executor, Governor of Tarren Mill
Description
Hair: Long dark
Eye Colour: Bright Yellow
Skin Colour: Sickly blue
Weapons used
A purple adamantium two handed sword imbued with shadow magic that has a terrorizing effect on Humans
A set of two one handed swords that have in them the souls of two human warlocks trapped by necromancy
Armour/garments used, in and out of battle
A purple-dyed ceremony mask and spaulder set
A plate armored dark red battle set
Magics/spells used
Not very versed in magics
Professions studied and to what ability
Alchemy: due to the extended contact with the Apothecarions and Master Haelas, he became capable of brewing smaler potions and some elixirs, none of wich with beneficial effects
Warfare: an ability retained from his former self and much increased with the control of the Forsaken guard
Loreomancy: Many late nights spent in Brill's town hall devouring the records found there gave him an accurate sense of Azeroth's history and events
Personality: Rotarm is a quiet, calm Forsaken who dwells in his thoughts very often. As most of the undead, he can't really be bothered about many things but those few subjects that touch him might get him worked up as he is know for being hot headed and not very talented in controlling his rage, not allowing it to not block his reason. If he happens to have a weapon nearby and no one to hold him back when such episodes come to pass, the odds of bloodshed greatly increase.
Even though he greatly respects and looks up to his peers in the House, he tends to be harsh on them, for any sign of weakness would cost him his position, hence his tight grip and strict discipline on the Neophytes.
If he happens to be found in a light mood, almost even cheery, beware. For something is most surely being planned in the back. After all, he trusts not a single person in Azeroth except his superiors, and a mask of politeness and diplomacy must be used when contacting with the other Horde races, lest his less appealing looks cause even more mistrust.
Likes: The bloodlust of battle, calm moments in the Ruins
Dislikes: Humans above all else, those who would hunt him as a monster
Persuasion techniques: Ooh all sorts of them
Seeks to become: The sharpest weapon of revenge
Looks up to: The Queen, The Deceiver, Governor Magnark
Envies: All those who crave what he achieved
Most used method of slaying a captured foe: Dismembering the limbs and letting it bleed to death
Most proud of: His arisal in Forsaken society
Most ashamed of: Any possible failure in his duties
Ultimate dream: To see the Revenge of the Forsaken done
History
Born in: Northshire
Pre-House info: Captain of the Deathguard
Biography:
Life
Turion Fireshield was an human orphan. Child to a Northshire farmer couple slain in the first invasion of the Horde, some weeks before the murder or King Llane and the fall of Stormwind. His parents spent their last breaths hiding him in a small hidden cellar near the vinyards, for they knew the stench of wine would numb the accurate smelling of the Hordish Wolf Riders. So it was that the ten year-old child survived and just a few days after the loss of his family he was found wandering around the vinyard by a travelling regiment of paladins from the Order of the Silver Hand, on their way out from Stormwind to rally their forces for the battle to come.
The sight of shining silver-plated Knights in their apprumed steeds was to Turion the same as the sight of salvation angels before the final demise. Beeing young but not dumb, he knew that his family was lost, but instead of crying as an ordinary child would, his semblant was found in a serious stare, and his tiny body standing tall amongst the wrecks as in salutation to the Paladins. This made somewhat of an impression to some of them, so that the child was taken in to be istructed as a servant, maybe a shield carrier some day.
Perhaps by faith or providence, the lad grew into a fierce young man, spending as much time as possible with the younger paladins, befriending them. Among those young knights was Alexandros Mograine, who became close to Turion, as he sensed a great deal of the Light in him. Thus when Alexandros was ordered Highlord, Turion was bestowed with paladin training in the ways of the Silver Hand. He developed sheer mastery in the art of battle aswell as wielding the light, and worked hard to became a member of the Highlord's personal guard, marching alongside him in many enterprises in the following years, including the march that drove the Horde back to the Swamp of Sorrows and destroyed the Dark Portal, ending the second war.
Years passed and it came to be that the Burning Legion's plan to invade Azeroth once again finally came forth, unleashing the foul Plague in northern Lordaeron through Kel'Thuzad and the Cult of the Damned. Turion fought the Scourge alongside his master, enduring with him the news of King Terena's death at Arthas's hands. He fought even more fiercely after the forging of the Ashbringer, aiding his master in achieving the title of The Scourge's Scourge. However not even the wielders of the light could foresee the depths of the Burning Legion's treachery, and as if Arthas treasonous deeds did not serve as a warning, none could prevent the Patricide of Stratholme and the loss of the Ashbringer. Even though Turion wasn't present, when Alexandro's demise's news were delivered, he could read the guilt in Renault's eyes and understood his betrayal. Like Fairbanks, he bursted at his master's firstborn with an anger and hatred never felt before, but was quickly overpowered and imprisioned. T'was a lucky strike that upon being escolted to the Scarlet Monastery, his keepers where ambushed by a group of the newly-setted Forsaken, and in the midst of battle, Turion made a hard earned escape into the Plaguelands.
By this time, he was a changed man. The loss of his master and inspiration worked on him as a blindfold, preventing him from any use of the Light, for his thoughts where filled with rage and hatred for Renault and humanity itself, allowing this vile omen to consumed him. For months he wandered in the wilderness, caring not about the fates of Azeroth, living like a barbaric savage, slaying everything that came cross his way, regarding no faction or race... eventually he became easy prey to a fel group of plagued Minions, wich took easy advantage of his weakened state and ravaged him. He fought fiercely untill the very end, biting and kicking it's oposers until nothing but a bloody carcass whas left.
Numb midst
Even though the Light was once strong in Turion, his holyness as Paladin had been corrupted and so his spirit didn't reach his promised holy grounds, nor regained conscience with his reanimated body, now another mindless tool for the Lich King's army. Instead it drifted the nether in lack of a conscience, in a strange slumber, and like that it remained during the events at Mount Hyjal and the unfold of the third war.
When Illidan tried to melt Icecrown and Ner'zhul's power over the undead empire weakened, a fallen high elf guardian called Sylvanas Windrunner (turned into a banshee by Arthas in the befoul of the Sunwell but meanwhile released from his will) struck a landmark blow in Turion's fate, for she defeated the Dreadlords, contestants to the undead heilroom and called this reward upon herself, forming the Forsaken, an community of free willed undead, and took the ruins of Lordaeron's former capital as her home, the Undercity.
After this was accomplished, the newly settled Banshee Queen proceeded to call and raise as many undead as she could to her cause. Thus was how Turion's essence was found, and with a whisper of tasteful revenge Turion was slowly awakened from his dark dream, and the shatter of swords clashing brought his conscience back to the spectral presence of the Dark Lady, whose words marked him as fire: "Those who are free of will need not life to endure...you shall be mine, you shall be Forsaken..."
Post mortem
Embodied in the rotting corpse of a young Lordaeron's Weapon Master, Turion broke free from his coffin in a crypt neaby the haunted village of Deathknell. Although at first shocked with his decayed condition, he soon realised that he had no rememberance of his former life, or his disgraced fall... Sylvannas had purposely blocked his rememberances, erasing his holy character and enhancing his hatred toward humanity. Thus, as he moved around the dusty dark crypt and swinged a small burial sword he became aware of new found strenght in him, a strenght that could not be seen or measured by flesh or muscle, a strenght that viciously pulled him to engage in battle and drive himself into bloodlust.
Arising from the crypt he knew this power had a price, a purpose that made himself felt through a calling of his Dark Lady... he decided to answer her call, renaming himself Othragon Rotarm.
In the following years he integrated the Forsaken Community and served his Queen's purposes well. Becoming Captain of her personal Deathguard, Othragon took part in the city's boiling schemes of revenge and murderous intents towards the living.
When the Lich King Arthas awoke from his dream, Sylvanas, who had vowed revenge on him, entered a bloodlust frenzy and immediatly started dispatching her armies to Northrend in order to settle a base and begin the hunt on Arthas. Othragon, who thought of the Lich King as a distant threat, had conceived a grand scale plan to concentrate all Forsaken forces into banishing the Scarlet and Southshore from Lordaeron once and for all. Suffice it to say he was very displeased by his Queen's military decisions, and soon entered a state of conflict between his own desires and those of her's. This grew to a state where he could no longer rule his men in fair honesty with himself.
Knowing that the Deathstalkers would hunt even him down if he entered a path of conflict with his Dark Lady, Othragon abandoned his position within the Deathguard and, pledging eternal loyalty to Sylvannas, left his long time home in the undead capital to venture off the world, roaming with no destiny, seeking a new path to bring forth his revenge on mankind... but fate of his was not to roam free, for his mistress was a jealous one...
For a while he travelled the Eastern Kingdoms to the south, ending upn the jungles of Stranglethorn and many times roaming close to the Duskwood's Ally borders... from travelling and battle companions made there, the news of the Royal House's disband came to him, followed by the grim word of Lord Archnazg's demise. A strict series of relentless battles in the Gurubashi Arena had driven him to a state of desensithized brutality, and it took the shady influence of Royal Deathstalker Xoran, no longer his superior but a still a rememberance from the past and it's former glory, to once again make him aware of the unbalanced power play in the Forsaken Capital... aswell as some arising and unchecked threats.
Thus he returned to the capital, joining the ranks of the Queen's Royal House as High Executor.. Letting go of his freedom, he once again embraced duty numbing all other emotions and concerns off as only an Undead could...
