Apr 18, 2025
Dor'lof Sinalba
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Independent WoW OC
New and open to asks
Open to all OCs, fandom or not!
Open to All forms of RP!
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Dor'lof Sinalba
About || Rules || Ask
Independent WoW OC
New and open to asks
Open to all OCs, fandom or not!
Open to All forms of RP!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Introduction
Name: Dor'lof Sinalba Title: Wretch The Good Doctor (Self described by him and his nurses) Nick Names: Dor works best, Doctor if you wish to be formal. Gender: Male Pronouns: He/They/Him Race: Quel'Dorei (High Elf) Height: 5'10 to 10' depending on his mental. Weight: 200 lbs whether he's 5'10 or 10' Age: Died at: [REDACTED] Orientation: Filthy Woman Enjoyer Heterosexual Relationship status: Married to his Work. (Open) Alignment: Neutral Good. Other: Has a love-hate relationship with fighting. Perverted and genuinely hates it. Generally doesn't like much about himself that he is trying to change.
Description:
Body: Strong, not built like your expected Death Knight. Preferrential treatmeant to dexterity and constitution as opposed to raw strength. Very flexible and ambidexterous but not without sacrificing enough power to be able to hold his weapon with grace. His skin isn't as pale as one would expect an undead to be. Hair: Blue-ish silver hair with bloodied locks that seems to be perpetual no matter how many washes he undergoes. Eyes: Blue eyes like your typical death knight, white pupils. Nos: Piercings, tattoos and, scars. No point in most body modification when he can change it on a whim.
Accent: Not of nobility, but definitely educated. However doesn't seem to always have the energy to keep up his vocabulary and will sometimes drop the pretenses and tell people how it is. Not afraid of swearing.
Outfits:
Doctoral Attire: His prefferred and most comfortable attire, while not immediately combat ready or focused on anything movement intensive. Perfectly clean and ready to operate on anyone in need! His pockets filled with fresh disposable gloves and candy. Oldskin: His armor that he worn since the days of Arthur Menethil. It's leather, filled with runic markings that death knights often used as well as various enchantments. The keen eye may note the similarities between it and his own skin. Dyed red hands and legs and seemingly...Alive and writhing. Often kept in an cold environment until it's needed. Only wears this when he needs to leave the clinic and can be easily worn under the doctoral attire. Wight's Carapace: When the going get's tough, the oldskin can form a thick keratin akin to that of nails and hair. This process often is rarely done and covers his whole form. Often this is only worn when things are tough for the poor doctor, and that wretched things need to be done in order to survive. Due to the fact that it's hair, the color is a bright bright snow white with a splatter of red.
Dear Diary
Clinic's Log #111
Simple things today. Peon's of both horde and alliance often end up here either after a poor accident or intense drinking. They don't even wake up by the time my Nurses takes them back from where they found them. None being the wiser for the clinic. I am thankful that due to my neutral status I've been able to fix some nexus points around both Alliance and horde territory, allowing my Nurses to come in and out with new patients with relative ease and thankfully, so far, extreme discretion. Not one inquiry after 3 months at 18 days of this clinic's opening. We've expanded nicely, and the Nurses are developing beyond their initial roles. While all of them share a desire to aid. They are developing skills, magic, hunting and gathering.
These Evolutions are not entirely unexpected, I've designed them to adapt to their enviroments.
A Nurse, too tall to be a gnome or a goblin, too small and thin to be a dwarf, boney structure, no feet visible and instead standing on two large points that they balance on with grace and dexterity. Their arms are the size of their whole body with hands bigger than their skulls which are pointed and gnarled with massive, bone-snapping jaws and teeth. Their face has no eyes, instead are replaced with chemical-receptors that line across the face that is visible with thick lines. Allowing them to walk with ease. Bursting through the office.
"DOCTOR! DOCTOR WE GOT A BIG ONE!" They shouted with the glee of a fisherman with a large catch. "Multiple serrations, burned with fel magic. I believe a fel-hunter? They're stable for now but we could use some help!"
Dor'lof eyes the Nurse, grabs his mug of mocha coffee, downs it in one go and places his note pad down, picking up his dual-scalpel polearm, his rune-weapon and focus for magic. "Take me to them."
Another day in the Clinic, another patient to take care of. Here's hoping that this one will last for as long as it can.
@drunkenworgen