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Old 02-08-2009, 06:26 AM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Default A (Death) Knight's Tale

Hello all, I'm Exxile. Pretty new poster here, though I've been visiting for a while now. Great job with this place; it's been a haven from all the other forums of generally ignorant "mary-sues".

I think this is the correct place to put this, but if not I apologize.

Recently I've been interested in roleplaying a draenei Death Knight. I've put together a decent backstory for him and I'd like some feed-back/criticism on it. I'd like to have all the lore behind to be pretty accurate and not have a ton of the usual cliches involved with him. That said, please enjoy.


Otaraa: A (Death) Knight’s Tale


BASIC INFORMATION:

Name: Otaraa

Race: Draenei

Age: 1,526

Class: Death Knight (formerly Vindicator/Paladin)

Base: Acherus, the Ebon Hold

Weapon: Prefers axes to any other weapon.

Mount: Medon (Deathcharger)



BACKSTORY:

Thousands of years following the escape of the draenei from the Burning Legion, a draenei couple celebrated the birth of a son, a rare occasion in the long-lived society. As was the custom, the child was brought to the prophet Velen for a blessing and to be named. As Velen touched his hand to the infant boys head, he received a vision of the future. Snow-covered mountains on every side, a Vindicator was doing battle with what seemed an endless army of undead zombies. He lay about with his mighty axe, falling the wretched beings with every swing. The bodies piled around him, but his fatigue was catching up. Then, a warrior in black armor entered the battle. The Vindicator was no match for this new foe, and fell to his mighty sword. The vision faded.

Velen opened his eyes, and his tears rolled freely down his face. He had witnessed the child’s future, and it was one of struggle.

“His name shall be Otaraa, for his destiny will lead him down a path beset with strife. He will meet his end in a strange land, surrounded by the corpses of his adversaries.”

And so the boy entered the world.

Over the next few centuries, Otaraa showed much promise in his training with the Vindicators. However, he never really stood out, and the few people that remembered his naming ceremony began to lose faith in the prophecy.

Eventually, the draenei landed on the world they would call Draenor. They carved out a life and over the course of two centuries grew to love the land that was now their home. Trade with the nearby orcs became common in Otaraa’s home city of Telaar, and he had close dealing with the neighboring Frostwolf Clan. It was from them that he purchased the axe he would wield as his chosen weapon. Carved from crystals harvested from Oshu’gun, the orcish name for the ship that the draenei had crashed in Nagrand, Otaraa carried it proudly. The orcs knew how to craft a fine axe.

Sadly, this friendship was doomed.

When the orcs began their war against the draenei, Otaraa and the Vindicators were often in the frontlines, drawing and inflicting heavy casualties. Bitterness began to set itself in Otaraa’s heart. He questioned the Light and the Naaru. Only after talking with Velen did he resolve his doubts and return to his faith. Stronger now than ever, Otaraa became a noted warrior.

As the war turned in favor of the orcs, the draenei were forced back into their final stronghold, Shattrath City. It was decided that nearly half of the surviving draenei would stay in the city to cover the escape of the others. Otaraa was among those told to flee. He refused, and stayed to fight alongside the likes of Nobundo and many other heroes. They waited for what seemed like years, and at last the orcs came.

The battle was fierce, and Otaraa knew it was doomed to fail. He saw his fellow Vindicators fall. He watched as the simple warriors were crushed under the Horde’s waves. He felt the cold touch of despair as he watched the women and children being slaughtered. Otaraa fought on for hours, every swing of his axe killing some nameless orcish monstrosity. He felt the light stronger than ever that night. He was one with it, a conduit that channeled the fury and retribution that was needed to stop the Horde and it’s crazed assault. But it wasn’t enough.

An orc, taller and more slender than most, with a heavily tattooed jaw, screamed a hellish war cry and charged Otaraa. His axe was knocked from his hands, and several gashes opened across his torso. He was done for.

Then suddenly, with a flash of silver and a clang of steel, a Vindicator he didn’t know leapt on to the orc.

“Run. This isn’t the way you die.”

A healing light surrounded Otaraa and his wounds closed. The Vindicator and the orc were out of sight and all was quiet. Otaraa knew the battle was over and he escaped, grateful to the light for allowing him to survive. He met his people in their hidden refuge in the Zangarmarsh. There they hid for several years.

Otaraa, like many of his brethren, was sickened by the degradation of their race after the battle. The light had refused some of their number, due to demonic taint of the orcish warlock’s magic. They devolved into twisted reflections known as “Krokul”, the Broken. They were exiled from the Draenei. Rejected by their peers and ran out of their towns, their fate ignored and forgotten. Life continued.

It was soon after this that the prophet told them of his vision of the Exodar and the draenei’s flight from Draenor. The planet was dying, victimized by the warlocks and demons that now inhabited it. They set out for the ship known as the Exodar, doing battle with the newly arrived blood elves and naga.

The draenei escaped on the Exodar. As they arrived in Azeroth, a malfunction in the ship’s controls sent them plummeting from the sky. Otaraa was one of many that escaped in a pod, in hope to avoid a terrible death. As his pod jettisoned, an explosion rocked him and he blacked out. He awoke a day later, unharmed, but without knowing were he was. He grabbed his axe, not his favored one from Draenor that he lost so long ago, but one crafted by his people, and stepped out into the new world.

Snow covered mountains surrounded him on every side. He felt an eerie chill that had little to do with the cold.

He began to search for his people. For three days Otaraa walked, not knowing where he was or where he was going. He saw little in the way of animals bigger than the occasional snow hare. No life at all to speak of. He realized he was alone. Again, he felt despair. This time, there was no Velen to council him. His faith was faltering. Otaraa was broken. And he felt it happen on the fourth morning. The light left him.

It was then that the first wave of undead attacked. They came at him without warning, attacking him with a savage fury. They fell to his axe and martial prowess, not his faith. The light was gone and Otaraa was broken. His end was here.

For hours he fought, refusing to die until his foes stopped coming at him. He would win this final battle. But they never stopped. Every time he killed one, two more seemed to come after him. Some even fell at his feet only to rise once more to fight. Otaraa was nearing his end. He knew it was over for him this time, that his life had run it’s course. He knew this was the vision Velen had seen so long ago. He accepted his fate. And that was when the Black Knight showed himself.

The warrior wielded a monstrous blade covered in runes. His black armor made him seem large and bulky, but he moved with a grace that spoke of a much more agile frame. Otaraa was quickly over powered. He dropped his axe and fell to his knees.

“Kill me. Kill me before I become one of those foul Krokul monsters.” He said in draenish.

In his head, he heard a voice.

“You are a strange creature. I have seen nothing quite like you before. No, no I am mistaken. So the draenei have come to this world? Excellent. You need not die, nor fear becoming one of those monsters, draenei. I can give you power. I can grant you immortality. You bear the marks of a wielder of the Light, yet it seems that it has abandoned you. Serve me and live.”

Otaraa considered this. He could live; what’s more, he’d be immortal. Free of the fear of transforming into one of the Broken. He knew what he must do. The Light had abandoned him in spite of all his accomplishments and service. This new voice promised great rewards. Otaraa bowed his head.

“Menna sal bet Otaraa ker al. <I, Otaraa, accept your offer. >”

“A wise choice, Otaraa. Darion will see that you are…ah, taken care of.” The voice laughed, an Otaraa realized his folly.

The Knight plunged his runed blade through Otaraa’s chest.

“Welcome to the Scourge.”


He was lying naked on a cold stone floor. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, or even where “there” was.

“I am Instructer Razzuvious. You are one of my students, a Death Knight initiate. We shall see if you have what it takes to join the Lich King’s mighty army. If you fail, I will chain you the wall and let a worthy Knight slay you. You belong to the Scourge now.”

Otaraa opened his eyes. All hope was gone. He knew now what he was. He rose to his hooves, his will broken. A Death Knight he was, and a Death Knight he would be.

“I live only to serve him. Glory to the Lich King and victory to the Scourge.”






The ending is supposed to be just before the quests in Acherus take place. I need to get some idea as to the time frame that said events occurred so that I can continue it and give a better feel for his attitudes that later develop and eventually continue it to include his adventures in Outland. Would he have arrived there just after the defeat of Illidan, or would he have just ignored that situation and focused on regaining his strength to take the fight to Northrend? The timeline here is killing me, you see.

Thanks for your input!
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Old 02-08-2009, 05:51 PM
Drz Drz is offline

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I dunno how your gonna work this out since your Draenei is devolved into a Broken one. :p
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Old 02-09-2009, 06:59 AM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Hmm...I guess I didn't make it clear, my bad. He allowed himself to become a Death Knight to avoid devolving into a Broken. The Lich King made him that promise and he gave in. Now, the way I see it, the draenei devolved due to demonic corruption and the being removed from the light. Since he'd only just been cut off, I assume there wasn't enough time to have begun changing. Also, he's one of the Death Knights that died and was risen, thus ending all biological functions as far as I know. So no devolving for him.

But, as the in-game broken model is roughly the same size as a draenei (though it uses the Tauren skeleton), it wouldn't be a stretch to get the most decayed looking Death Knight skin and just roll saying he's Broken.
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Old 02-09-2009, 09:21 AM
Rashid Rashid is offline

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Hi Exxile, and welcome!

It's a pretty good story, and I have just a few suggestions/questions.

Axe carved from Oshu'gun: Would the Orcs be mining their sacred mountain to create weapons? I understand that such an axe would give Otaraa some degree of power, but since he loses the weapon (lost forever?), is it important that it was made from Oshu'gun?

Another thing, as evident from Nobundo's story, was that the Draenei warriors that survived Shattrath felt a great sense of shame. Sure, Velen's prophecy said he would die elsewhere, but I think it could help build up his hopelessness and final submission to servitude under the Lich King if the Light determined that his life wouldn't be best spent defending his people.

Also, I liked that part about him seeing the Broken exiled. You could expand on how that affected him... It would really make that part about him wanting to escape that fate more believable. Also, good job on mentioning that Velen wasn't there to guide him when he fought the undead. It seems like after any setback, Velen was there to reassure him. His absence could certainly have Otaraa feeling lost.

Overall, a cool story. I liked it
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Old 02-09-2009, 10:21 AM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Thanks Rashid, I appreciate the input.

As far as the axe goes, I'd thought some about that and I may change it. Then again, the orcs weren't as shamanistic before Oshu'gun crashed (see Rise of the Horde, it's mentioned that the crash was the beginning of their real turn towards shamanism) so one could reason that before they "got religion" they explored it and perhaps excavated some of the materials. Just a thought. Also, I had intended for him to receive the Honed Void Axe from the Ring of Blood quests in Nagrand and just say that it was his, recovered by the goblin guy from the wrecked and abandoned Shattrath.

From Nobundo's story, I imagined a majority of his guilt came from not only surviving, but because he was hit full on by a warlock's spell and cut off from the light rather quickly. It's been a while since I read it, but I seem to remember him trying to use his Light given powers soon after and not getting a response. I'll go back and check though; I have been wrong before.

And yes, I like portraying Velen to be more like a pastor from the local church than a super important political figure. I often picture that he'd make himself available to even the lowest crafter if his wisdom was needed. I imagine that a vindicator having faith issues would be more than welcomed by him for council. I also like removing my characters from their comfort zone. Velen had been Otaraa's rock, and suddenly he was gone. Otaraa made his choice based on his fear and didn't have anyone to say "Hey man, bad idea."


This is just his RP backstory, but I'd LOVE to be able to make it more detailed and perhaps base a few fanfictions around him. I have time to do it...so I may get started on it.
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Old 03-30-2009, 11:20 AM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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A (Death) Knight's Tale Pt. 2: Acherus


Otaraa rose to his hooves. He stood head-and-shoulders over Razzuvious, though he had no illusions of being stronger than his new teacher. Razzuvious walked in circles around him, appraising this new warrior.

"Yes...your body was excellently preserved. Muscles still firm...no sign of decay. I'd say you're in very good shape." Razzuvious snapped his fingers and a servant ran off, only to return moments later with a large metal chest.

"Put these on and go to the balcony. You must meet the Master." With that, Razzuvious turned his back and walked away.

Otaraa opened the chest and put the garments on. As he tightened the shoulder pieces in place and slid on the gauntlets, Otaraa noticed a voice in his head. It was the same voice that had spoken to him the day his pod had crashed. The voice was telling him of his new, dark purpose. It detailed his role in a coming apocalypse and promised him power for his service. Otaraa found knowledge he'd not possessed previously; new spells and combat moves. Otaraa had a new identity and skills to go with it.

He headed to the balcony. Somehow, he knew this new place as well as he had known...known what? Otaraa suddenly forgot where he had been before Acherus. As he realized this hole in his mind existed, Otaraa was overtaken by a sudden chill. He was outside now, and from the feel of the air, he was well off the ground.

And there, standing just in front of him, stood his Dark Lord. The dark armor. The legendary Frostmourne. The power. Otaraa knew these things like he knew his name. He knew his master. The Lich King.

"My Lord." Otaraa knelt before him.

"Rise, Death Knight, and hear my voice. All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so that you may herald in a new, dark age for the Scourge.

"Gaze now upon the lands below us. The Scarlet Crusade scurries to undo my work, while Light's Hope stands defiantly against us - a blemish upon these Plaguelands. They must all be shown the price of their defiance.

"You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, death knight." The Lich King touched Otaraa's head with the tip of Frostmourne. A new power entered him then, and the haze he'd been fighting passed. Otaraa was fully reborn.

Otaraa rose, and marched to Instructor Razzvious. He found him standing beside a strange forge, instructing an acolyte to do away with a human female.

"This one still has feelings" he said. "Do away with it." Razzuvious turned to face Otaraa. "You have heard the call of the Lich King, death knight. Now is the time to answer your master. Your training begins now."

He showed Otaraa how to inscribe the runes to a blade he'd had Otaraa retrieve. After many minutes, Otaraa had succeeded in forging them onto the blade and cast the enchantment that would give the blade it's power.

"Very good, death knight. Now use it. Strike down one of these initiates deemed unworthy of our King's power. Slay him, and your trials here will be over." Razzuvious handed him a key and pointed him to the pit in the center of the room.

Otaraa did not hesitate. He spied a large Tauren and unshackled him. The Tauren met his gaze.

"You'll look me in the eye when you kill me, yes?"

Otaraa stared him in the face for a moment, and then drove his sword into the beast's chest. As the blood gushed freely, pooling at his hooves and spraying his face, Otaraa felt a surge of ecstasy. He reveled in the bloodshed and killing. This was what he wanted to do; kill for his King and end the lives of those deemed unworthy.

"Excellent! No hesitation, no mercy. Death knight, you'll be one to watch. Go now, and tell your King that I've shown you all I can. Suffer well, Otaraa." Razzuvious saluted him and walked away.

Otaraa cleaned the Tauren's blood from his sword. He sheathed it, and returned to the Lich King.

"I've been expecting you. Do you see them, death knight? The Scarlet Crusade stands defiant, and the Argent Dawn huddles below us at Light's Hope. We will show the that hope is folly. The Scourge will wipe them, and all life, away. I've given orders to Highlord Mograine. The war begins now. Go forth, my chosen knight, and slay in my name. Leave only death in your wake!"




That's part 2...gonna try to cover all the death knight starter quests, then begin the tale of his freedom, and the beginning of Otaraa's quest to Icecrown.
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