Vallar Shadowbourn

What does one do once they awaken from death? Are they shocked, going mad from their rebirth? Perhaps they cannot handle the reality and die once again; either by their own hand or others whom are disgusted with their new life? Both are typical outcomes when a soul becomes undead. For it is considered one of nature’s greatest sins, defiling one’s mind, body, and soul. Some would even call these undead abominations, monsters, killers; though they are not wrong on most cases. Are we not allowed to seek redemption? The living would agree we deserve none, but who are they to judge.

All ebon knights know their sins, their crimes, their acts against nature and all living creatures. But do they all remember their life before death? Do they ever wonder what their lives could’ve been if none answered the call to war. If none stood up to fight the against the old Scourge, where would we; they be now? I can’t say, nor can they, for the only task is to press on. Such horrors happened ages ago, though to many still, it felt like only moments or perhaps even an instance. For even I can see it in the eyes of a mortal, their pain, hatred, sorrow, and disgust with my very being as well my fellow un-kin. Such strong feelings, emotions are beyond me. For it is sad to say that I feed off such emotions.

But sometimes the truth isn’t always pretty, many times the truth is ugly. Which is why many mortals are keen on tall tales, boasts, and falsehoods. For a death knight our duty to one another, to our order; as what little remains of it, is all that matters. Those whom would forsake the Ebon Blade for considered traitors, deserters, and exiles. Though I have no distaste for brothers and sisters whom leave our family, I do however look down on them; for what and whom could offer more love than those whom know you the best. These are my emotions.

Am I cold? To cruel? Heartless? Perhaps, for such burdens of a mortal’s heart can only ever lead to another demise. I should know, least I’ve had experience in an ‘attempt’ at regaining my old life, my ‘family’. Look where that got me...never again. The only family I shall ever need is among my fellow ebon brothers and sisters and mostly to my eternal fire of the abyss. “My precious Gem...”

BASICS

FULL NAME:

Vallar Shadowbourn

Pronunciation:

Vv-a-ll-are  Shad-oh-born

HIS NAME MEANS:

If it had been ‘valor’ like his father wanted it would represent:  great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. His father saw a young man whom wanted to be a protector. Of not only his family, but of his friends, comrades, and loved ones.

HE WAS NAMED BECAUSE:

From the words of his father he wanted to name him after something great or someone; believing it would bless me in some manner, originally he wanted ‘Valor’. But ended up with ‘Vallar’.

NICKNAME(S) AND WHY HE HAS THEM:

He wasn’t one to have nicknames as some would give out to friends or to a sibling. However he did ‘earn’ a title from his little brother: Kinslayer. To why he has that? The name is enough to tell the reason.

BIRTH DATE AND STAR SIGN:

June 1st - Gemini

Do you ever feel the need; an urge to bring out that beast inside, the demon that lurks in all living and damned souls of this world. I’m not speaking of desire, not of want, nor of lust; all is mere child’s play when it comes to souls such as I. My brothers and sisters understand the curse that’s been placed upon us after our unholy rebirth, the terrible ‘itch’, this constant beckoning to bring harm to others. To bring agony and suffering on anyone and or anything that’d be unlucky to run into our path or perhaps we had a ‘selective’ prey.

It claws at the back of minds. A voice of our own darkness. “Kill. Break. Slaughter.” The voice never ceases when the urge arises. “Maim. Torture. Rip them all apart!” It’s a terrible feeling...but at the same time, it is bliss. One must understand and see from our boots. As death knights, we all have the NEED to bring horrible actions upon others, for if we do not sate the ‘desire’; we’ll go mad with blood lust, killing any and all; be them friend or foe. All will suffer and then die, but even then. Death is no exit from our suffering. For we command death itself.

Looking into my hands, I could recall every action I ever committed. Every word I spoke to those I’ve come to maim, break, slaughter, and sometimes even raise them for my own needs or wants. I stood up and went to the window of my study, looking out over my home, my people, and my fellow brothers and sisters. They’d be the only family I’ll ever have in this cursed world. For my path was for and with them always. Sighing deeply then turning away to return to my chair; glancing towards the half melted candle, back to my hands. “I will never bring harm to my own ever again. I shall halt any urge that claws at my mind. Nor will any seek to bring misery to them ever again.” Sometimes I felt the need to make promises to myself. To remind me that I’m in control, no false crown, no Light heretic preaching their ‘honor’ or ‘divine purpose’. Only I ruled my fate and wished to vanguard over theirs.

My ‘desires’ will never reach them. I will take my own un-life should it be a means to safeguard over them...over, her. Moving my right hand to my lifeless heart. I clenched it tightly, feeling the urge to shed a tear; groaning in pain I took a breath of reassurance, cold breath as lifeless my heart filled the room for a moment before it faded. “Gem...the fire of my abyss. The mistress of my darken eternal soul.” The first memory of our encounter came to me. Suddenly I was in the Mage district of Stormwind, sitting outside the Slaughtered Lamb; contemplating my brother at the time. Then at the same time I saw you. A woman that none could compare to; a mortal who’s beauty and voice made an undead knight’s dead heart feel a sensation of love and desire. I reached out and the memory faded with me back in my study, my right hand was still on my chest; clenched. Dropping it back down. “I’ll die again for your continued existence.” 

All whom are precious to me will never fall to my curse. However. To keep my oath to them and only them. Others must die, I must bring my wrath upon those poor souls as to keep those dear to me alive and safe. Sometimes I take pity on those I break or raise. A majority of the folk don’t deserve it, but happen to be at he wrong place of the wrong time, but then there’s the lot whom do deserve it. The scum of humanity and beyond. I may be a monster, but I am no demon.

A home has been decayed from within whilst one family slept once; I don’t know why, just had the need to ‘desecrate’. Another time I came across ‘traders’ on the road. They asked if such ‘graceful’ knight wished trade with some fine goods; the band was dirty, their wagon was the only dignified part them; even though that was covered in scratches and looked recently attacked. Originally I was going to spare such a pathetic group of souls; but then the itching began and I accepted their ‘trade’. I was slightly hoping their goods were good at all, however when I followed the man to the middle of his camp; he suddenly laughed, whistled and I was surrounded by at least twelve men. Armed with swords, spears, and even some were armed with rifles and bows.

He took out an ebony short sword with an golden hilt, placed to my neck line, then demanded that give them all my gold and anything else of value. But instead I laughed, hearty and deeply; a good laugh I hadn’t felt in ages. Then he pressed it against my skin, black blood leaked out against the blade. He was shocked at both the blood and my unflinching reaction. “Is that all?” He flinched then stabbed into my collar line. “Well done.” I complemented his courage as most by now would have fled, however that courage soon shifted to fear. He pulled out the blade, horrified by two things. One being his blade drenched in my dead blood. Second was my sinister grin the grew.

I grasped his wrist before speaking with dreadful intent. “Now you decay.” In almost an instant the man’s flesh was rotting and dropping like muck. His groans of agony was just the start of their suffering, for as I turned to look at the rest of them they all took a step back or two. “Who’s next?” I asked before lunging at one of the swordsmen and grasping his face. “ROT!” I roared as his skin melted away leaving only the skull. It began. Their suffering would be merciless. The dishonorable’s only reward is damnation. Next came rifle shots and a few flying arrows, I grasped a near by spear-man into the crossfire. Then I gave them plague of rotten flesh as well, but from within. It was amusing to watch them cough and choke on their own breath, one I actually rose as he was dying from the disease.

One by one, the bandits fell to either my hand or those I risen. Only half of the band remained, the rest were under my control; save the man who still cried from the loss of his hand and being watched by hungry, drooling undead constructs. “Not yet.” I said with my malevolent smile still dawning since this began. “PLEASE HAVE MERCY! SPARE US!” I turned back toward the souls whom actually tried to beg, plead for a second chance as my undead were closing in on them. What did I do? Nothing. “Please...we’ll do anything...take our stashed loot! All of it, it’s yours!” They attempted to bribe their freedom, that erupted another laugh, a mad cackle. “NO PL- AAAGGGGHHH!” My new ‘kin’ were feeding well today.

Their screams were a melody to my ears, but then it grew silent and only the whimpers of the bandit chief remained. He was clutching his stub of a wrist. “P-Please...I’m sorry. Y-You don’t have to do this...” For a moment, he caught me in thought but also chuckled. “You’re right...I’ve got something better for a rat like you.” Looking around I spotted a run down house which seemed to be the group’s living quarters. I ordered two of the constructs to drag him into the cellar and await further instructions. I think his head was banging down against the steps because I could hear a constant thud on each step down. As I too made my way down into the dark and quite damp cellar. It was a mess of ripped and tattered goods of food, supplies, and what I could only assume were wine bottles on an old rack; with rats crawling from ever nook and cranny. “What fine home you’ve managed to obtain.” Looking down to him. “Now it’ll be your tomb.” And with a snap of my fingers they shambled to chain him up; his struggling and cries were like icing on a dessert, which he’d be for the rats as well.

With a parting gift, as well a final insult to injury. I left his prized blade before him. “Be a good lad...and entertain your new friends.” With that he cursed me to a thousand hells. Stepping up out of the cellar, back outside looking over my work before taking in a deep cold breath then exhaling it out. “That’ll do.” I then proceeded to leave the camp with my few bands of undead. “Time to go home my children.” They bowed their heads and followed behind me, forever loyal to their new master. My urge, the itch was gone...for now.

Peace. Is that so much to ask for? Can the sinful never attain this; is my journey a lost cause, am I to be forever condemned? Perhaps I’ll never know the answer, but another question rises. Romar. My dear little brother, how can you speak of family and love; when all that is within is hate and bitterness? 

You are the one whom lashed out at me when I only welcomed you with open arms. It was you whom decided to forsaken me for the wrongs of the past. But you can dare act and speak of matters of the heart with another? I spoke my first to you...and what did you say? “For someone to actually take pity on a fiend such as you, is truly an act of mercy from the Light; even more for the soul to ever love you.” Such bitterness from one whom claims honor and justness. 

 I never wanted this burden, this curse of undeath. None of my un-kin wanted this path, but it was made for us. Instead of wandering, we chose; I chose the path of retribution for the old Lich King, for our sins. But even after all that, after all that has happened. You continue to resent me for actions that were never in my control. So I am to be doomed without love, without care, without peace? Why should I be the only one to suffer this path, because you deemed it so? My dear little brother, if only you knew what was to come; for such a betrayal you’ve given me. You want me to be alone? Then that was a day I decided you’d never share a home with another, if I am to be alone; always, then so shall you.

Seemed like time moved slower since her passing. “Kaidy. I’m sorry.” You died for loving me, for choosing to stand with me. I’ll never let another innocent soul share with my fate ever again, as to keep their souls safe from my abyss. But seems my brother didn’t share his concern after I informed him of her death. No. He dared to claim what happened as ‘divine karma’. Saying: ‘Now you know the feeling of loss.’ Bastard. I began to feel the same as he did, for he was no longer my brother. He was nothing more than wretched blood. Scum. Taint under faith.

I thought I’d never hate my own family, my own brother. But I’ve made attempts to make peace or even work it out. Time and time again. Now, it’s over. If wants to clash swords, then one day it’ll come. On that day. My love for family died and my hate and resentment was born. We stared at each other, a look that was a message to one another. ‘One of us will fall, whilst the other rises’.

Love. Happiness. Joy. Comfort. Peace. These are all I wanted when I returned home, I wanted to see my little brother grown up; into a man. Wanted to see my father and mother growing old together, seeing their love was something I wanted to strive for. But now, it’s all gone. My family, their love, everything. No one could ever love a being such as I.

But one day, as I was mopping around, enraged and filled with sorrow on the abandonment that was now my life; a kind soul, a curious soul approached me. A draenei named Kaidy. I’ll never forget her, for she is was my first love, the first one to take my pain and sorrow and turn it into something better. “Why do you approach me mortal?” I looked away from her smile, a beautiful innocent smile. “Come to laugh at me? Throw stones and or mock my existence? It is all anyone does, so have at it.” She did nothing of the sort instead she sat beside me on the bench. “Of course not. I only wanted to see why you are sitting all alone back here.” I was shocked and confused as no one has ever bothered to ask such a question, even more so to sit beside me.

So we talked, I spoke of my past and what led me to sit alone behind the Cathedral in Stormwind, alone and never showing myself to or in the public. I could tell she felt sorry for me, in some ways hurt that someone’s own blood and kin could do such a horrible act. “Oh my...that’s terrible. But...in a way we’re alike.” I turned to look up at her, witnessing a tear trail down her blue cheek. “Pardon?” I inquired. “My family abandoned me as well...for...for.” I placed my palm onto her shoulder as to reassure her. “They left me alone because I wasn’t ‘right’ in their eyes. A ‘mistake at birth’. My sister was the only one they cared for. She was the pride and joy of the family name.” 

I was at a loss for words. The living were just as cruel to their own as I? Not humankind, but draenei? A people whom’s very existence is dedicated to the Naaru, the Light; which was supposed to care and cherish their own as well life. My confusion soon turned to hate. Hate filled my mind as she continued to cry, a waterfall of tears trailed down her face. I didn’t know what to do, so I hugged her. “You are not alone miss. We are the same. We’re never alone now.” She turned with a smile, the same innocent and beautiful smile she approached me with. She then embraced me back and we shared a first kiss. 

A few weeks past since that redeeming day. A living soul actually fell for me, me of all beings. I also never though I’d see this day, to feel...loved, to share it. I thought I finally found my peace, but I was wrong. For in those past weeks I discovered that one of my own un-kin had feelings for me. An undead kaldorei;  Illyia, whom I shared many old hunts with. Though only ever saw her as a comrade in arms, like a sister.

On afternoon as I was training in the Ebon Hold she approached me with a embrace from behind. “Dearest brooother~.” She was always a playful one, though I never payed it any mind. “ *Sigh* What is it Illyia?” I was a bit annoyed as I dislike being bothered when training and or sparring with another. Though she never seemed to care. “Ooh what’s the matter? Haven’t you missed your daaarling sister~?” I could hear the flirty tone in her voice. “Yes I have and am happy to see you, however I am bus-” She let go in annoyed huff. “You’re ALWAYS busy! Never come up here to say hello or come see me.” She had her arms crossed, glaring at me. “I’ve had duties for the Ebon Blade to fulfill.” Her blue orbs were like icy daggers pushing through me. “Oh is that so? Duties for the Blade....not roaming around with the Light filled harlot?”

My eyes narrowed on hers. “Pardon?” She smirked. “Oh, did I strike a nerve? Good. That harlot you prance around with is nothing more than a wench of the Light and those stupid humming crystals, why you’d ever lo-” I raised my sword toward her. “Do. Not. Speak of her.” Her smirk faded. “Excuse me? You’re choosing some mortal bitch over me?” I sheathed my sword as I’ve never strike at another Ebon Brother or Sister. I turned to walk away. “Don’t walk away from be Vallar Shadowbourn. We’re more meant for each other than that Light filled whore! Vallar!” I wouldn’t face her and instead made my way back home, back to Kaidy.

“Damn it Illyia. Why are you like this?” I’d ask myself the more I flew on my Ebon Gryphon home. However when I arrived back at our home, it was in wreck. As if a battle took place here. I didn’t understand what could’ve happened, but then it struck me like thunder. “Illyia.” But then a harder realization hit me. “Kaidy...” I searched every inch of the home, but couldn’t find her; however it was at that moment I saw a blood trail leading the garden. As I followed it outside I fell to my knees. “No...this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.” I found my love, Kaidy was crucified on icy pillars. She was naked; cuts all through out her body. And on her stomach was a message, cut across her flesh. “Such a weak soul, couldn’t even hold through basis of torture. This wench wasn’t worth loving, I was and still am; come find me and we can still be together. Always yours, Illyia”. 

Illyia. She did this. I didn’t want to believe it, but no one else could’ve or would’ve done something to such an innocent soul. I would find her, I MUST find her. But where? I thought of one place, an old settlement that was long dead and rotting away to time. I knew the grounds felt familiar. This was one of the many settlements that we of the Ebon Blade hunted for the old Lich King. I made my way to largest home with in that place, her Deathcharger was stationed there. She didn’t even try to hide her location. She was waiting for me and I was coming.

Once I entered she stood at the top of the stairs, looking at portrait of a happy couple; no faces could be made out as the portrait was long faded out by time. “Such a delightful couple. Strong, loyal, and eternal.” She sighed. “We could just like them, now that she’s gone.” She turned to see me, sword in my hands; gripping the hilt tightly. “Still? You still are having thoughts of that cur, that whore?!” She drew her own. “Why!? What did she have that I don’t?!” She yelled in rage. “Innocence. Purity. Kindness. You’ll never be her.” I finally replied and with that we clashed. 

“Innocence?! Purity?! How rich that is for someone of your stature. She could never love you like the way I can.” I grew more hateful, more enraged as she spoke. Only thing on my mind was indeed Kaidy, but not as she was; how she became. “Shut up!” My strikes became harder, faster; wanting nothing more than to plunge the blade deep into her cold un-beating heart. “You don’t know what love is. I’ll never love you. Not even as a sister anymore.” With those words she herself grew enraged. “You...you bastard. T-Then...then you’ll join her!” She declared and went to strike back in leap. But in that moment I death gripped her with my might, all my hate. “You will first.” I threw and slammed her against the wall. “Damn yo-” Before she could finish I spear threw my sword directly into her chest, impaling her against the old wood.

She dropped her blade, attempting to remove the blade but I kept it there with the same power I used to throw her. My hand was raised and the closer I got the further my sword plunged into her chest plate. Her black blood seeping through. She even coughed up some onto the blade’s guard. “Ngh...so this is how I die now...*cough* *cough*...by my beloved’s hands. F-Fitting for traitor like me.” I shook my head. “Why. Why did you do it Illyia?” She managed to dawn a smile. “Love is...is a powerful emotion V-Vallar. Even in death...*cough*...it can drive one to do unspeakable things...for the o-one they care for.” I felt no mercy for her, no pity; but I did feel sad. Saddening to kill an Ebon Sister. An act I swore I’d never do. But she became a traitor the Ebon Blade on her actions. “Illyia, I’m sorry.” She looked to me. “S-Stay...Stay with me...t-till I fade...” I took her gauntlet in my own. “Sleep now dearest sister, you oath and duty is done.” She kept her smile till she fell limp. Death took her one final time.

My only family. My father, my brother; both have abandoned me, forsaken me. All for what happened in a long dead past age, yet because of the sins I did not wish to carry out. I must be alone, all alone. I grew sad. I grew enraged. I grew lost. No one would ever love a soul such as I, a being whom’s every presence was a walking sin of the old Scourge war.

I did not disregard these sins. I knew I caused them, knew what I’d done when I took the time to recall them. I’ve ruined many families. Razed hundreds of villages, broken many whom resisted the Will of the old Lich King. Did I enjoy it, revel in the bloodshed of the innocent? During the time, yes. I was a chained blade gripped by his Will. It wasn’t a choice as many of the living like to assume or perhaps they like to think this way as to somehow make their views of me seem more right. I’ll never forget the sins I’ve created. Never will I be able to atone for them, bring those I’ve slaughtered back to the families they’ve lost. I can only continue to march, but never forgetting where I came from, what became of me.

I remember one quite clear. It was like any other, a settlement was refusing to cope nor accept the offer of the Lich King; nor were they unknowing to his ‘gifts’. As such as unit of the Ebon Blade was deployed to handle any more resistance. “If they won’t kneel. Then they’ll be risen into doing so.” Those were our guiding orders for the settlement and all it’s villagers. To kill, maim, break, and slaughter any whom fought back. And so we rode out, the beats of our Deathchargers was enough for the sounds of screams to be echoed. 

We were death’s stampede, trampling any of whom tried to stop us or attempted to flee. I recall a young man, no older than sixteen; raising a dull blade up to me. I could see the fear in his eyes, the pressure causing his hands to shake. If I could feel I’d know his skin was pale and cold. “R-Release my father you b-bastard!” I was in fact holding the lad’s father; his throat began to decay in my grasp. “As you desire child.” In that moment the man gagged, unable to scream in agony as his entire body was decaying at a fast rate. “FATHER! NO! Please stop...please don’t do this...I beg of you.” His cries and wails were of great sorrow indeed; however I had no mercy for him, nor his home. He fell to his knees, tears trailing down his face as he watched his father become nothing but bones and rotten flesh. 

“Y-You monster...you f-fiend.” He crawled up to his father remains, holding his rotten skull in his hands; tears dripping onto it. I approached him, placing my palm upon the skull. “You wish to speak to him once more, allow me.” I used my power to raise the skull, just the head. As it reanimated in his hands it began to cackle as eerie green orbs appeared in the skull’s eye sockets. “F-F-Fath- AGGGHH!” He couldn’t finish his words as the animated cackling skull lunged at the lad’s throat. Ripping and tearing his flesh like a piranha swarming it’s prey. I stood over him. Watching what my power could do. The skull continued to cackle like a madman as it tore his own son’s flesh apart.

 After he was dead, his head no longer attached to his body as the skull tore his throat out and into pieces. I walked away, not looking back, only continuing to march as ordered. “There are worse things than death.” I always would tell myself during this rides, these ‘hunts’ as I began to call them. It didn’t take long for the rest of the settlement to burn. As far as the eye could see, houses came up in flames. The streets were littered with the corpses of mixed villagers and lesser undead. They fought hard, but were to weak to overcome us. Those whom died fighting were taken and later risen to fighter undead. Whilst the rest of the corpses were throw in the pile of ‘extra flesh and parts’. Not even fit to be lesser undead, merely extra parts for abominations or other weak undead.

Solitude. Peace. Order. These are the ideals of which I chose to follow keep myself at least in some manner of discipline, for being alone and lost for so long after a ‘heart’ warming reunion with my brother and the ‘uplifting’ letter from my father. I came to learn that I and my un-kin were the only family I had left. The only family I’d ever get. I knew and did many horrible things whilst in the ranks of the old Lich King’s Scourge; many of us of the Ebon Blade and those who’ve walked away from it, all of us did. We are our living breathing sin and we can never atone for that, for what we are.

Never the less, it’s not as if we don’t attempt to seek redemption. But does the living want to grant us such grace, no; never for we are forever scum in their eyes. No matter our path, no matter our sacrifice to protect them for the current issues. Be it from their own blood feud with the Alliance and Horde, to our own kind who’ve strayed from honor, and even demons. But none of it was enough, it’s never enough; no matter how many of us die to continue their existence, it’ll never sate their hate of us. Are ‘we’ truly the monsters, the unwanted, the a cursed to forever walk this world in order to seek their acceptance? No.

We all have our sins, our dark secrets, for no one is truly a saint. The pure aren’t so pure. But I digress, years of distrust from the other side can do that to you; ever more so when your only blood in the whole world turned their back on you. But one didn’t. My mother, my sweet, darling mother; she was the only voice I never got to hear, never was able to see her after my rebirth. Neither of them would tell me of her; to think they’d honor me with that at least. No, they had no honor, but neither did I.

Even as I attempted once more to make peace with my brother, I once again headed to the Cathedral district of Stormwind. He was no where around, likely praying but I would not dare to ‘desecrate’ the church; as he wasn’t the only voice to speak against my visit, though not as hostile as him as such violence was against the church’s rules. So I waited. I waited long till he had finished, I made myself known; he wasn’t happy. His body movement showed that alone. “What are you doing back here cur?” I sighed but kept my composure. “Good to see you too brother.” He already grew annoyed by me calling him that. “Oh come now. Surely you must understand or at the least comprehend that I wasn’t in control bac-” He raised his hand. “Don’t. Even. Dare.” I could not even speak mere words to this man without them feeling like knives into his heart. But I’d not give up on my only family. I opened my arms, dropping my sword. “Brother. Please, I know I did you a great wrong; a deed I can never repent.” I took steps forward, trying to embrace him, hoping he’d do the same.

It has been many years, no. Many ages since I last thought of my own kin, my blood; for I know that it is their blood on my hands. Still, I think on lonely nights such as these to ponder the paths I’ve taken, wandered, and walk to this day; some I question dearly but as a knight I aspire and strive to keep what oaths I have left as well hope I can retain the little honor I hold onto. Am I alone to this day, no far from it; however being a ‘Lord’ other wise known as champion(s) of the Ebon Blade.

And what a great ‘Lord’ I am. I don’t take my order for granted, I NEVER have nor will I ever; for they are the one’s whom I can call true family, my un-kin. Men, women, human, orc; it didn’t matter. For as death welcomed all, so did I, I treated and treat all undead and un-kin as my brothers and sisters; giving most at first impressions high respects. Not only that, but we’ve all shared a painful, sorrow filled, and blood drenched past; a lifetime we can never take back. Some days I can remember back to when I was first born or alive as it’s called; so full of spirit, charisma, and a want to be other’s strength and tower for their burdens.

I remember seeing the joy in my family’s eyes, their hope; what they wanted for their children. But I knew my path and would march into it with my head high with no regrets. My father was a simple man and only wanted what was best for me and my little brother, he was noble, kind, and a fair man. He taught me the value of one’s own family, about the unbreakable bond that it represents; I truly was inspired to one day have a family of my own. A wife and a child to call my sanctuary, this is a dream my mother wanted for me. 

My mother, oh my loving sweet mother. She only wanted one thing and that one wish was to see her boys happy and have good wives to keep them in check, but loving included, as for her lover she only wanted to spend every second of every day with him. Oh, I almost forgot about my little courageous brother; he aspired to be just like his big brother Vallar and serve a righteous cause like me, to be strong like me, to carry others just like me. He always wanted to be by my side when he came of age to walk out into Azeroth and claim a banner in honor and faith; I won’t lie, I admired his faith about the Light and it’s blessings and strength.

All of them were my mountain, my pillars of strength, of happiness, and of peace. For no matter where I went in this world; I knew they’d wait for me. But sometimes life just shoves a cold blade into you; sometimes your death isn’t restful, sometimes your second chance isn’t a chance at all instead a terrible nightmare of which you have little to no control over. My rebirth was one such event I could not will not to be, my will was no longer my own; the Scourge was my new life.

Being reborn into undeath is an experience unlike being born; alive you can recall details and memories of that life. Being undead, you have all those memories, but they seem more like dream; as if they didn’t exist. For when you’re undead; Scourge, you are nothing to those ‘dreams’, to the ones who created them. I thought that’d be a lie, that my own blood; either it was pumping or not, that I’d be welcomed home. I was wrong. So gravely wrong. My family was gone. Our family home was in ruin; as if it had aged a lifetime.

Were they dead? No they couldn’t be and so I searched for them, long after my old King fell; his grip of us broken. I wandered Azeroth from the Eastern Kingdoms to Kalimdor and it soon came to thought that I’d never see them again till one day in Stormwind’s cathedral district, I happen to walk into that holy church in hope’s the Light would at least heed my prayer. But then I told to halt via “Stop fiend!”, which I turned to see a paladin glaring at me with such disgust, hate, anger, and the want to slay me. “Don’t even think of tainting that house with your unholy footsteps.” Few would dare to speak to me, fewer so to approach me in such a manner. I turned around and immediately sensed a familiarity among the man, I responded with “I meant no harm nor offence good sir.” This only angered the man further, speaking like he knew me and proclaimed that my words were as rotten as my unnatural form. “You do more harm than you know by merely breathing; if you’re able to do even that, fiend.” At that I was getting irritated with him, I did not know him or so I thought and wanted to be on my way. “Listen. I do not know why I am gaining this hostility, But I’ll apologize for any off-” At that moment the man gripped a hand full of my cloak. “You know damn well what you’ve done Vallar Shadowbourn!” I was called out by name. “You and the rest of you dishonorable kind, you’ve done a lifetime of misery, of pain and loss!” His grip increased as did his angered tone. “You took everything from me...to think, I dared to name my boy after you.” I was confused, but then it hit me. This man, this enraged paladin; he was my brother Romar, all grown up into a man.

“Romar...my little brother; you’ve found me. I am so over joyed to se-” He shoved me back and immediately drew his sword, pointing it at me. “Broth-” He pressed it against my throat and then spoke as cold as my own body. “You. Are. Not. My. Brother.” I could see his hand shaking, but not of regret nor fear. No, it was of rage and pain; he wanted to strike me down; but wouldn’t do so on holy ground as well within the city’s walls. He’d glare at me for another moment, eye to eye before lowering his sword and sheathing it. “If you ever, show your face around here or even DARE to set foot in the cathedral of the Light; I’ll show you true judgement of your fate...kin-slayer.” Then he turned and left, leaving me his own flesh and blood abandoned; alone. As for my other family, it seemed my father was dead, but undead as he was Forsaken. I was sent a letter from him, it said “Vallar, my boy. My son. It’s with great sorrow and pain that I write to you; for normally I’d be over joyed to hear that my, our family could be whole again. However, much has past since your passing, the family as I’m sure you’ve noticed isn’t the same as you left it.” I did not understand, why would he not talk to me in person such as Romar did, Forsaken yes, but we could’ve met somehow, but as I continued to read I learned the truth, the soul breaking truth of my ‘family’. “Romar, my youngest and your little brother is changed after what you did; you may not have did it with content, but the actions were made.” As I read to the near end, another realization took place. “In the midst of your un-willed campaign, one of your many stops happened to be at your brother’s family home; how you’re terrible Lich King found it was a mystery to us. None the less, you visited with death and misery; you plunged your blade into Romar’s wife and for their young child you slew as well. He attempted to avenge his mother, taking up his father’s sword and attempting to fight. But of course the he was no challenge. You then made him watch as your minions tore the house to bits; wood by wood then you left him there.” I...I killed my brother’s family, his wife, his son, and their home. All to dust by my hands. “My son, I shall always remember the man you were, what you stood and fought for. I say remember because I am afraid what you’ve become has taken you from us. Please. Stay away from your brother, stay away from us. Live your new life to the fullest my boy. Your father always, Travick Shadowbourn.”

What does one do when given leadership? Command all others, demand respect, inspire your fellows, or dominate them under your power? For many this is a process that takes a great deal of time, some are natural born leaders who believe that they can lead an army or a legion to glory by speaking on faith. Belief by mere words or in a single soul will only lead to downfall.

Leaders, champions, heros. All start from the dirt before they can take up the sword and even heros break when looked upon by others. To gain power, to gain a foothold on those you’ll lead into battle, into death; one must abandon all emotions of fear or regret and show they have an iron grip, just as my brothers and sisters of the Ebon Blade continue to display. I am no leader, but I am a Lord to my knights, I am the soul they look to for direction or guidance.

I have walked this a cursed world known as Azeroth or ‘home’, for many years I waited for the day a worthy blade would meet me on the battlefield and end this burden. But as death itself can’t be stopped, I can not truly die and abandon my only family left. But in death there is peace? That is a lie, to any soul that believes that death finally releases you from the pain and burdens of the world, you are gravely mistaken.

We Death Knights know better than any living soul that the burdens we chose or must take on never leave you, that the oaths we swear upon for the honor of those we wish to serve, protect, cherish, and uphold. No matter the cause or the reason, when we are given a task; we complete it no matter what or who stands in our way, they will die a painful and dreadful death. I say this for a warning to those who break their oaths or chose dishonor: The death we Ebon Knights give unto you is not a slow nor a ending death; for if we chose to we can keep your soul, mind, and body as our slave and victim to any and all of what we chose to. Do not cross an Ebon Knight or dishonor in their presence, to do so is to wrath death itself.

I am Lord Vallar Shaowbourn, a sort of champion of the Ebon Blade, I say this for the reason I never wanted this title nor the leadership over other Ebon Knights. In life I was always the solider, the man to fight with and for others in the name of our people. But as time went on, and wars came and gone, one after another. Then finally my reckoning was set, Northrend, home of my rebirth. Second chances some like to think, I see it for what it really was, an opening of what life really was: Illusions. False faith. Abandonment of honor and duty for personal vendettas or gain. When we Ebon Knights, we death knights take to uphold the honor and oaths of our bound duty we swore in life as well to whom, we take and honor that to our graves. But I have witnessed what the world of the living truly cares for and how they ‘honor’ our sacrifice.

The living shows their true nature when their loved ones, families, friends they once knew and grew up with. The ones they shared bonds with, now walking back from the dead. About what they were forced to do under the Old Lich King’s command. We are shunned, cast aside out like outcasts, treated as scum worse than any evil that has walked this world. There may be the truly blessed knights whom’s family honors them, I am thankful and give the highest respect a knight can give a living soul of this nature. But not all are lucky to get this...’love’. Love turns to hate. Cares turn to priorities. Memories become a weapon.

All that is, all that ever was in the life before becomes an abyss. Nothing matters but the path ahead and where it may lead if anywhere at all. That is my duty, that is the mission for MY people. I aim to preserve what honor my people hold left as well create a utopia for my people. A place for them, far from the true cruel reality of this world and it’s people. A home where both the living and the damned can be one, even the dead can still dream.

Many of my own kin think or even believe I am a fool to wish for a peace between the living and the dead. They would be right, such a goal is pathetic, but to wish for a peace between MY damned brothers and sisters and between MY people. I am a Ebon Knight of the Ebon Blade, but I am also a Lord; a  commander to other knights who aspire to be champions of their fellow kin as well. But those who follow me, all know that I aim to protect those I take in as kin. 

Basic Description 

Name: Vallar Shadownbourn

Hair: Long

Hair Color: Raven Black

Eyes: Icy Blue

Skin: Pale White

 * I am a man of mostly simple design or I’d like to think so. I may sound young in stature, but that is the luck of dying in a youthful state. Regardless I am a knight of honor, least to a good enough extent so that my means are understood. I carry myself with my sword always ready along with my dreadsteel armor, why am I always so on edge? I think the better question is why not? I am a Death Knight, a walking image of the old Scourge and any mortal with a hate for my kind would love to cut me down.

But for those who’d dare attack an ebon knight like a coward in the shadows, take heed. For all my kin walk different paths of the runic schools, I for one hail from the unholy path; so be careful less you become my new puppet or perhaps I’ll enjoy watching your very flesh peel away and turn to sludge from my decomposing aura.

Status 

Spouse: N/A

Sexuality: Straight (But undead)

Family: Mother - Deceased, Father - Deceased, Brother - Deceased

 * Do not expect a sorrowful story of how I’m alone, nor will I weep for my lost loved ones. Why? Because what use does mourning do for the dead? The dead does not listen to the worries or burdens of the living. They all lived and chose their way out of this life...some more harsher than others, but they chose their path. As do we all, in this life and the next.

The fallen are meant to be honored and remembered. Their memory means nothing if you choose to define it as sorrow and despair. I will always carry the memory of my family, eternally always.

Personality Traits

Honest, truthful, Honorable, Quiet, Respectful, Aware, Combat Ready,

Reliable, Just, Vindictive, Calm, Peaceful, Well Mannered, Melancholy,

Eerie, Observant, Tranquil, 

 * I can be many things, a gentleman, a bit conversational, or even a horrible night. How I treat the public is one thing, how I treat the souls that would dare defile my good time or that of my allies will be greeted with the same attitude. I may be undead, but I am still a knight at soul, so my good behavior and pleasant attitude falls on the individual.

What is that someone wants most out of life? To be rich, to be famous, or perhaps even to be a god? Every soul be it man, woman, or simply mortal want something great out of their journey on earth. Something to make their name or themselves great or perhaps leave something behind for the next era of people. No matter the reason or dream we try to strive for the best. I merely wanted to be strong for myself, for others who’d need it, and for my family more than anything. I was a young man who wanted to be the big and strong man of the Alliance military, just like any other kid. For days, which turned to weeks to begin training my mind, body, and soul for whatever would come to me and to threaten my home and loved ones. Day after day I would train my body till it couldn’t work no longer. I would take breaks as little as a few days to rest off the work out.

Not the best of training routines or the wisest but I would do what I thought was best to better prepare myself the age when I could be a soldier. My family had great praise for me, my parents were proud to where’d I would serve the Alliance and my little brother looked up to me as a future hero. I would join at an early age to get a head start in my career, seventeen was perhaps to young for some, but it was my first steps into the solider’s life for me.

To be among my fellow brothers and sisters of the Alliance was like a dream come true, something that I thought I’d be to weak to even attempt at. But as I trained and fought  under the lion’s banner I understood what a brotherhood was like, to meet a whole new family in arms and in comradery. Just like when I first begun my training I’d enjoy all the time I could get out of it. Whether that be sparing with my friends or fighting with them all in whatever war would come for our homeland and family. Eventually what felt like mere months became years, twelve to be exact, twelve long good serviced years and wasn’t about to retire either. For even when I became old and gray, I would give my life to the Alliance for my strength was theirs as much as their will was my own.

There was one tour of duty that I’ll never forget for as long I as walk this forsaken world. A world breaking war with demons was thought to be the end of all life and good that was in Azeroth, so many cities would burn, even our own world. However, by some miracle and great unbreakable will, we all lived and fought back the demons to their twisting hells. I thought that to be the end of all war, for it took the combined might of both factions to combat this threat. But alas war never changes anything,  no matter the foe and so it would be that the call to war was blown. I remember the faces of worry and fear my family had, but like the solider I was I’d assure them I’d return with a letter of hope for them and so soldiers like me set sail for the cold north known as Northrend. I’ve been to the land, only ever heard stories of the frozen land far across the sea. Tales of waters so deathly cold that merely falling the sea would freeze you dead.

I was at first not used to the cold harsh winds that blew past me and into my steel blue plated armor which only made me hate the coldness of the land ever more. What was worse I was a deployment of vanguard, soldiers who’d be put in the upfront battles of both the Horde and the true enemy the Scourge. How the Alliance would manage to fight two heads at the same time was beyond of position of thinking or questioning. I would follow my orders given by my generals and commanders alike. I will admit for I can not lie, war had always been horrible for both sides only wanted the same thing: peace and good health for their people. But war against the Scourge was something else entirely, the minions of death didn’t want land, power, or wealth. No the servants of the Lich King only wanted to bring death and decay to any land they could taint and defile. Walking the dreaded frozen plains of Icecrown could only be described as nightmares. Battlefields always carried the stench of death, but the field for Scourge was natural for them. Anyone that fell from combat, Alliance or Horde would be marked by death and be risen as a new soldier of undeath. With only the will of the their Lich King to guide them.

I’ve always been told when death comes for us, there was a certain peace that came to it. For us in this war, the peace of death was a lie. For there was none in the frozen north to begin with. What I wanted to be months were mere weeks as the casualties would pile up for both sides and which only lead to a greater force for the undead legion. I just wanted now was to go home for no one should die in a pointless blood war only to feed a greater foe’s strength. Alas, I was a soldier and would get out a soldier’s way; by service. Then one day it finally came, a mission which was to bring a turn of tables to this war. Our Job was for a battalion of us to team up with the crusaders of the Agrent Crusade for a special task. The objective was to recover a relic that was previously lost when a gargoyle took fallen crusader’s body deep into Icecrown. Our job was to journey with the crusaders to a place known as the ‘Cathdral of Darkness’. It supposedly a place where the cult of the Damned would preach and practice the influence of the Lich King.

How some little relic would change the tide of war against the Lich King was once again beyond I, but would follow orders as followed: “Troops of the Alliance are to delve into the midst of Scourge territory with crusaders of the Argent Crusade and recover the holy relic known as ‘Light’s Cleansing’.” The goal was to drop from a skybreaker as close down to the cathdral as possible. Once on the ground the force would travel up and through the cathdral, killing any Scourge that was in the way. But on the journey to the dark church however they’d come in contact with little undead, which seemed odd to me. But the crusaders would assure me and any other worrying troop that is was the ‘Light’ watching over us, yeah what little comfort that brought us. But after another hour or so we’d all arrive at the entrance to the dark cathdral.

This supposed ‘cathdral’ looked more like a small fortress as I recalled. Even something so small seemed so terrifying. Never the less I’d ignore the chill down my spine and march with my comrades into the cathdral of darkness, the stench of death wasn’t much but the utter feeling of dread as we walked the unholy halls of that cathdral. Everything was wrong, from the arts that went on here to the lack of enemies. In the end we’d find the fallen crusader’s corpse at the center of it. Our mission was complete, that’s what we thought, no. The ‘holy’ crusaders wanted us to take part in the ‘cleansing’ as to make sure the cult couldn’t use this place for their practice anymore. We wanted to get the hell out of there, but were compelled to aid them as orders dictated. We the troops would set up around the cathdral as the crusaders prepared their ritual for ‘cleansing’.

It seemed like ages as the crusaders  began their ritual to cleanse the cathdral, to in their words would burn all undeath presence around the area. But as their ritual was nearly over a grip of fear blew over everyone, it was as if death itself was breathing down their necks or perhaps standing behind them. At the entrance to the cathdral was blocked by shadowed wall and out stepped our demise. The Lich King himself his own force of knights in black armor, we’d been led to a trap.

After what seemed like a nightmare only became a reality as I awoke to find chains wrapped around my whole body as well find my allies and even members of the Horde were taken prisoner. When the Lich King granted them his presence I was sure we’d die, but it seemed the King of death saw to torture our minds and bodies till we were dead then raise us to serve. It was horrific to see and watch one by one of my friends and comrades being succumbed to disease, slowly watching their skin decay. Or perhaps freezing slowly from the inside out till they were a frozen husk. Even the torture of blood magic was enough to instill fear as even imagining having one’s own blood boil till exploding into a pile of gusts and blood.

The Scourge was truly a foe like Azeroth’s never seen, an enemy which not even the laws of nature can abide. I wanted to be able be strong enough to spit in the eyes of death itself, but found myself being reborn into something much greater. I was reborn into death, I die and would be risen into a death knight.

Taking the first breath of undeath was cold, but a chilling sense of peace. More peace than I was lead to believe when I was alive. I was a man who feared death and tried to fight it off, even more so think that death could be overwhelmed. But such burdens were gone as my unlife was to begin and his service to a new King. I soon and quickly came to see the perks of undeath. I found my strength greater than any normal mortal warrior or magic caster, the Lich King bestowed his death knights with his own power over death. I found myself enthralled by the power of both frost and unholy; freezing the living to a fate worse than frostbite or laughing as the smooth flesh of any mortal becoming diseased and decaying.

Truly the tools of death were something to behold, for I would serve the Lich King as any loyal knight would to his or her king. I would’ve gladly brought defilement to every inch of this world, but it wasn’t to be as once a traitor always a traitor for our own king would plot to throw our lives away to a battle that couldn’t never be won. Once such battle was at Light’s Hope, the famous chapel that held the oldest crusaders and paladins of ages. Such a small temple seemed easy to crush, but it was in our arrogance as we charged onto holy ground we were sealed. No matter how hard we fought, how many paladins died by our blades we found our troops being purged before us.

Defeat had come, I was again broken before the mercy of judgement. I thought to finally see peace in death but to my surprise our defeat became a lecture in how we were blind, how our faith in our king was false. Hearing the words back then was enough make raise my blade again into that old Highlord’s throat. But his old wise words would be true, for at that moment our Lich King would grace us but became more of a disgrace. He’d go to boast how our lives were nothing to him, how’d he’d all his death knights to die a thousand times to secure victory. We were fools indeed. The old Highlord Darion Mograine enraged at his betrayal attempted to slay him only to be cast aside like nothing.The other ebon knights could do nothing to the Lich King either and so he turned his attention to Tirion.

The Lich King sought to kill the Highlord and corrupt his soul as he did ours, but like our victory it was not meant to be. Darion Mograine would give his corrupted Ashbringer to Tirion purging it  once more and breaking the Lich King’s hold on his soul. Fearing the divine power of the old man he’d retreat and curse that we’d all die. Our defeat had open our eyes and freed our souls from being slaves to the Lich King. We had a new purpose,to bring redemption to our order and bring the fall of the Lich King. What seemed like an era of war was finally coming to an end. Crusaders, death knights, and all living combatants were at the gates of icecrown to end the reign of death once and for all.

It was over, the Lich King had fallen. His cursed sword Frostmourne had been broken and with it the souls of all it’s ever consumed were free. We were free, but as we all made our peace with the victory over death, some of us didn’t feel the true peace of the burden. Why you may ask yourself? Because we would be the last of the Scourge. No matter how it seemed or how it was, we knights of the Ebon Blade would always be seen as agents of the damned. Our crimes never to be redeemed, we had been freed yes. But the world would never accept us for who and what we are. But we didn’t care, our goal was now to make a place for our kind in this world. Watching out for each other and those alike. We had sacrificed much to bring an end to the traitorous king and their wasn’t much of us left after it all. My purpose now was to follow my brothers and sisters of the Ebon Blade and serve them all and anyway I could. For in death they are bound together and would stand together.