What's your Warlocks lore?

[faberun]

Just as the title says. im lookin for CREATIVE warlock lore. This is for simple entortian ment issues (yet again, im bored!) What i mean is,
lets say, uhhhh
short description of your warlock
as a child, I ( insert name) never got along with other children. There was always somthing.....inside me. pushing me, making me crave power.
Most of my childhood friends, growing into famous warriors and pallys.
What fools. they dont know where true power lies.
History.
After losing my parents at an early age, i was forced to fend for my self.
In time, a powerful mage from dalaran took me as his apperentice. When Archimond destroyed Dalaran, killing my teacher, i was once agian left alone.
How you bacame a warlock
The craving never left. After a brief tast of majic, i realised that i wanted power, dominance, and that demonic majic would feed this...need. Combined with my hatred for the leagion and the scourge, my warlock training began.
personality.
Although my life is based on killing the legion, I am as much of an Explorer as a warlock. In battle, i am cruel, diabolic, and sinister.
Out of battle, i love partyes, and realise that every one needs to stop and smell the roses.



Think you get the idea. tell your story, reguardless of how bad a writer you are ( your probably more creative then me, thats my warlocks actual lore. took me months to think of that ).

[RomaGoth]

Actually, I started my warlock's lore with my blog. Only have 2 chapters done so far, but eventually his entire life story will unfold (kind of like "As the Warlock Turns").

[Winter]

Excellent thread I've come up with one for mine, don't normally share it being on a PvP server and all.

As a Human she grew up in South Shore but would spend most of her time over at Pyrewood Vilage where she was taught the art of Fire Magic. When the plague started to consume all over the forest she got in a vicious battle against one of the nearby Gnolls which ended up killing her. After weeks passed somebody found her corpse near the lake in which they took it to Tirisifal Glades and left her in the Morgue to rot, but for some reason unknown to her she was raised as an Undead. After looking around she found that there may be some answers and a way to bring her back to normal in Undercity in which she found she'd have to go back to Silverpine forest. In concern that the same thing may happen again she felt that the prospect of being a Fire Mage was not going to help her so she delved into the art of Shadow Magic and "transformed" into a Warlock.

Before she would make her way back she felt the need for a minion to serve her so she quickly found somebody who taught her to summon an Imp by the name of Nalnam. Knowing that the utility of the Imp was great, the need for a stronger bodyguard would also be important so she went to Undercity in which she learned how to summon a Voidwalker by the name of Chakrit. After having her minions to command she made her way to Silverpine.

Basically thats the beginning, the basic reasoning behind her story is she starts off trying to get back into the Alliance only to find that they're not that accepting of the Forsaken when she gets to Hillsbrad. Upon making good relations with the Horde especially the Blood Elves she decides to serve by their sides. She however is not really concerned over the alliance races by themselves but just the ones who hate and try to kill her which she feels is due to her becoming Undead, but is indifferent to people who attack the others in the Horde so long as they don't touch her.

Cheesy I know .

[lianightdemon]

ah character backgrounds

I don't have one for my warlock but I larp (live action roleplaying) and thus those characters have a background.

[Vaell]

*deep breath*

Ok, huge wall of text coming up. It's Vaell's background in the form of an RP story. It's a loose transcription of an actual RP moment where I was telling my story to my now girlfriend not long after I met her in game. Apologies for the bulk of it. I'm not a great writer and there could be some lore holes. But if you've got some time to kill, it might just do that

--

The warm afternoon sunlight slid lazily off the tight, dry Kodo skinned roofs and onto the faces of the two Sindorei sitting facing the other opposite the guild masters of Thunderbluff. They blinked and smiled at each other, happy that after all, there could be hope for their kind and, in their lives. These new friends had only met a couple of weeks previously in the ravaged Ghostlands outpost of Tranquilien. Vaell had been working on his jewel crafting, and whilst he was no master he was proud of his improving skill. What better way to help his people he thought, than to give freely his produce in the hope that others would benefit. He called out to all that may hear him "Free Jewelry! I need not sell it if I can help you!". There were many responses "did someone say free?!" and "Yes... please! me, me!". He spoke with each one in turn, weighing up what would suit them best. "just a moment" he said as he remained silent to concentrate on his work. Young, would-be masters of beasts, mages, priests and one particular warlock all took something away from Vaell which gave him a warm satisfaction... even for a short time these items will help them overcome their difficulties he thought and perhaps they will remember the day they met him. He had been lonely for a long time. Disillusioned with politics, so called friends and such he faced many enemies alone and felt that perhaps he should reach out, forge alliances and give hope to others, perhaps wishing to restore his own.

Some days previously

Caetor, a rare, long standing friend, and Vaell were sitting and talking in the dusty streets Orgrimmar. The relentless hustle and bustle surrounded them but they continued. The Horde's strongest and weakest alike clashed in a sea of colour, cursing and other worldly remarks, flailing limbs and the occasional foul stench as they fought to reach the mail box, eagerly awaiting news of loved ones, supplies and deliveries of weapons purchased from the ever popular auction house. The noise around them would rise and fall like the tide...or a symphony of disorder.

Silence.

Vaell looked up from where he sat and was charmed by the figure gracefully moving past him. Her white hair reminded him of his own and the light glistening from the rings on her fingers suddenly brought his memory of that afternoon in Tranquilien sharply into focus. Vaell muttered "my work... I know her". "eh?" Caetor responded bemused and half interested. "it's Sellanna... I met her in the Ghostlands... she's wearing my rings... I must ask her how she's doing!". Caetor went back to drawing a provocatively posed succubus in the rust coloured dirt with the shoddy wand he was thinking of ditching. Vaell stood and patted down his pants and tried to look half presentable.

"Hey... Sellanna, it's me, Vaell!"

The two warlocks talked for some time, made introductions to Caetor and were pleased that fate had deemed their paths to cross once more. The made a semi vague plan to perhaps meet up again. Maybe kill some things. They giggled at the prospect of doing their shadowy work together but there was something softer about Vaell now. He still wore a mask most of the time but underneath there was this feeling that perhaps he could be happy again.

Back to Thunderbluff

"It's so peaceful in Thunderbluff" Sellanna exclaimed as the two, lost in conversation started to learn about each other "I find it confusing... never really spent much time here to be honest" "it's much nicer than the Undercity, Orgrimmar where there's so much noise and filth" "you have a point... fancy showing me around sometime?" Vaell smiled. he carried himself differently now and Sellanna noticed... or was it the other way round? "ah yes... the Undercity... that's what I'm more familiar with... mutations, blood, bones and experiments..." Vaell frowned a little "something wrong?" Sellanna asked, her brow furrowing slightly. Vaell fixed Sellanna with his gaze, arched an eyebrow and said "well... if I told you... I'd have to kill you". They both giggled and sipped tea. "but seriously... I think I can trust you... I mean... you seem different to the others... I feel like I've told you so much already but I warn you... you may be surprised at what you learn about me". Sellanna's natural curiosity was aroused.



*** Information added 0 Minutes and 24 Seconds later... ***

The sun had become shallower over Mulgore and the sky took on warmer tones. Peach, some cream and a softer breeze enveloped the two as Vaell began his story.

"I'm not proud of what I've done... I mean it's what led me here and I feel that I've made up for it... but... I did some awful things... I was ashamed of myself, of what I became. I don't always look like this you know..." Sellanna looked at Vaell... noticed the mask and smiled. "Many years ago, as the third war came to an end I had spent many months plotting and fighting against the campaign on Silvermoon. I fought the Scourge like my brothers and sisters beside me but our beautiful city was almost lost. A massive offensive left us in ruins, Arthas was victorious. Kel'Thuzad was resurrected and our Sunwell was destroyed in the process... we had little hope. I saw many around me, crazed by their needs of magic. I stood vigil on the dead scar that blights Quel'Thalas for weeks on end. I was named Vaell of the Scar for this reason. I would patrol alone and bring back the spoils of my Scourge hunting to support those nearest and dearest but I was spending so much time away that I didn't notice what was happening to my family. They became outcasts, warped by their dependency. I finally realised that I was going insane myself... my fervour for defeating the Scourge became all consuming. In a rare moment of clarity I tried to reason with my family... but it was too late. They were too far gone"

Sellanna listened intently, punctuating Vaell's story with affirmations of how their race had fallen, and how they must never give up hope.

"I felt lost. My family now strangers to me and no matter how many Scourge I could slay, there were always more. I was maddened, guilt ridden and exhausted. A keen student of the fel arts, dark magics kept me away from the arcane and they sustained me, but not without it's own risk. In my frail emotional state I was slowly being manipulated by The Shadow. I felt that there must be a more cunning way to defeat the Scourge, besides brute aggression. Was this reason talking? I heard about Illidan Stormrage's battle with Arthas. Of his survival. Perhaps if I could ally myself with him there could be a way to dethrone the Lich... and perhaps grow more powerful in the process" Vaell's eyes filled with sadness as he remembered those days. The emerald glow became liquid as a tear welled up. Sellanna sat closer.

"I made contact with an agent of the Burning Legion, I promised them my servitude in return for some glimmer of hope... that there was a power capable of overturning the Scourge. I became a spy. My loyalties were divided and I became hopelessly confused. I lived in Silvermoon and ran lowly errands for my new masters when I wasn't studying the new books that fell in to my hands. People noticed a stranger among them. Me. I had ideas above my station and became arrogant. I had all but turned my back on my people and yet I lived among them. Understandably the people of Silvermoon where angered by my presence but without proof they could not have me exiled"

The tea had long finished and the fire flickered dancing shadows around them. Echoes of Taur-ahe in surprisingly soft voices talked about how full the Mu' sha looked that night. Vaell gulped back, his words almost choking him. Sellanna looked into Vaell's eyes as if to say 'go on... it's ok. I'm not judging you'. The corner of Vaell's mouth curled slightly and gave a hint of a smile.

"one night I had tried to get a quiet drink at the Silvermoon City Inn...what was I thinking? I sat down at an empty table and drained the contents of several jugs of bourbon. The glasses floated on the deserted beach of my fore-thought like anti-personality mines. I was keeping a terrible secret, one that I hoped would help and yet I faced much hostility. I wanted to disappear... and then, without warning, a group of angry Silvermoon citizens marched in hurling abuse at me, pushing and shoving me 'what is your business here Vaell?' 'You've changed...' 'leave this city.. we no longer want you among us!' 'I wish you had gone the way of your mother!!'

Vaell's face contorted with anger remembering this final, fatal remark.

"I rose up with a ferocity never experienced before... not in battle... not ever. I grabbed the man by the throat, lifted him clean off the floor and threw him to the wall. The others pulled and tore at me... I felt a sharp whack to my head as one of the empty bourbon jugs was used against me... I fell to my knees, quickly rose and with tears streaming down my face , scrambled my way into the alley and up the ramp that leads on the the court of the sun. I doubled back and ran along the edge opposite the Students of Shadow academy... they gave chase and cornered me by the mail box. They closed in and partially obscured the street lights. What light I could see sparkled, the blood and tears glistened on my cheeks. The seething shadow grew. I panicked and lunged at them, punching kicking and gnashing my teeth, my rage, tunnel vision. I broke through. The mob was pushed back and one lost his footing on the platform above the ramp... he fell to the ground below... and the sickening crack echoed out into the night as we fell silent..."

Murder Row.

"I didn't mean to kill him... I don't know what came over me!" Vaell cried. Sellanna nodded "he pushed you too far... he deserved it if you ask me"

"I was arrested that night, taken to a cell and badly beaten up. I tried to sleep on the cold hard floor but couldn't. I was wracked with so many feelings... as soon as my sobs died down there would be loud bangs on my cell door as the guards butted it with the heels of their swords... their footsteps echoed in the corridor with their laughter.. 'got him where we want him at last... he'll be sentenced to death for sure' ... "

"...my trial came and went... there was a small part of me somewhere I'm certain, that wanted to be caught.. for the madness to stop. I confessed my intentions... that the death of that fellow was accidental... but still I was to be sent to the gallows. I was sent back to my cell... my wounds almost healed now... perhaps death would be the release I yearned"

Sellanna gasped "I'm so glad you are here now... what happened?" There was hope in Sellanna's voice... she fidgeted almost excitedly despite the sad tale.

"the next part..." Vaell continued "will make your blood run cold..."

*** Information added 0 Minutes and 44 Seconds later... ***



"I had come to many conclusions whilst imprisoned. I no longer heard the influence of conflicting voices. I seemed at peace. I had realised that the path I took was dangerous and whilst I was angered by the remarks I heard, I realised that those citizens were only trying to do what they felt was right. I forgave them. Forgiving myself took more work..."

Sellanna's hand rested on Vaell's knee.. then she slowly withdrew it as their eyes met. Vaell cleared his throat meekly.

"one morning... the sunlight warmed my body and I slowly awoke... I realised it was the day scheduled for my execution. My hand slid out as I started to push myself up and found a sliver of parchment... half concealed by the dust on the cell floor... I knocked it away... and as it flipped I noticed the beautiful writing on the other side. I looked up quickly... to check for guards... as if it was a test... I brought the parchment up to my squinting eyes and read the words 'choose death... you may live to regret it...'. There was an unusual marking at the end.. not quite a seal, but insignia of sorts. I'd never seen it before but none the less... I tore the note up into tiny pieces... the words unable to leave me...."

"I waited to be led from my cell... to an audience of jubilant Sindorei for my death but it never came... the sky outside grew darker and the noise of Silvermoon died down as night fell. Footsteps got louder from the corridor outside and the seldom heard rattle of cell keys became dull as the lock turned with a clunk. The door creaked open and a hooded figure, flanked by two Silvermoon Guards motioned me to rise to my feet. I was shackled, blindfolded and led out. This is it, I thought... every second of my life, every fight and struggle, every ounce of hope I ever felt condensed into this moment. My life, a waste. we walked in eerie silence but for the clinking of chains against my legs until I heard the familiar hum of a Translocation Orb... within seconds we found ourselves in an altogether different place... the smell, unusual... the temperature a little warmer.

A Voice spoke to me....'Vaell of the Scar... you stand guilty of murder and treason. What possible reason do we have for sparing your life?'

I was silent. I'd been through this before... and my pleas fell on deaf ears. I'd be damned if I'd beg. I said 'none sir... I'd be a liar if I didn't think I deserved any of this' ... the Voice boomed "that is what we have been discussing... are you a liar?... or are you too honest for your own good? You acted irresponsibly but it came from the deepest desire to destroy what nearly destroyed us. You couldn't hide it... and yet..." the Voice trailed off.... then more commanding "Vaell... you were prepared to die for us, in your days on the Dead Scar... and we ask you would you be willing to die for us now? A final tribute to your people... for all you have caused... the death of that poor fool... the unrest in the city... could you give us peace of mind by laying all that to rest... and to cease any doubts we have about Sylvanas?" ... "Sylvanas? Where does she come into all this?" ... "Answer me boy!! will you die for your people Vaell of the Scar?... answer me true.. for I will know if you are lying!"

Sellanna's hand made a fist... her lips trembled.

"I cried out 'Yes!... just stop this... do I have a choice anyway?'... the Voice told me of the alternative... that I would be dumped in the middle of the western Plaguelands with nothing but my wits. The Voice broke into a dry, throaty cackle "good... at last you have seen the error of your ways... you aren't entirely without merit... I had a good feeling about you..."

"I was strapped to what I can only imagine was a operating table... my wrists, ankles, legs even a thick leather strap pulled down on my head tight against the hard surface... mutterings and the shuffle of several pairs of feet and then at once the most painful jabbing in my neck, chest arms and legs. I stiffened and strained at my bindings. Useless...I moved nowhere.... my teeth clenched and bit... foam filled my mouth... my veins bulged.

Then nothing... true nothing... the place where the words feel, see, smell, hear, taste do not exist..."

--

"that night... I can only assume that I was taken, under cover of darkness to the crypt in Deathknell... to start my life over... in my new body. I came to, and coughed up blood, my body feeble. I struggled to get to my feet, which now resembled skeletal claws... my legs buckled under me like a newborn deer. I dragged myself half way across the floor and gave up. Exhausted. In the half light I squinted into the dark corners. A rat scratched at something, caught my gaze and scuttled off. I stretched my arms and cracked my neck. I traced the line of my arms, finally resting on my hands, now bone and talon. I wept. I had realised what had happened. A proud, vain Sindorei reduced to living corpse...

Sometime later... and after my first meal, except the tail, I felt a little stronger. I got to my feet, disgusted with myself and and made my way up the crypt stairs..."

Sellanna wept. How awful for a Blood Elf, so full of pride and beauty to be turned into this.

"I exited the crypt and was immediately taken to one side by a Forsaken, a powerful yet heavily disguised priest called Di... which I thought was apt for an undead... she told me I should make contact with the great warrior, and leader of the House of Praetoria, Drakarm... he would brief me on my "mission".. though not before showing my sense of duty to the forsaken. I realised at once that all but the slightest hint of my power was gone. I approached the towns folk in turn and took their tasks. One asked me my name... I replied 'Va-s-scar'... and from that moment on I was known.... I felt a hatred for life, a bitterness that I had come to this. I became a warlock, harnessing my past knowledge of the shadow..."


I could go on... about the days of Praetoria and their secret war on Sylvanas, of meeting Daedrowe and Quintilius who fought bravely by my side as we destroyed legions of invading harpies in the Needles... about realising that Sylvanas was true and was not acting as a pawn of Arthas... of Drakarm's disappearance and the fall of Praetoria... of my days alone... fighting endlessly as I grew in strength... my eventual realisation that hatred between races was futile... that the forsaken were good people... I forgave myself at last... but with little hope of being the old me... I sought an antidote. The best I got was that it may fade in time... no cure, no magic potion... I fought on and had a little hope again. I repented for all that pain and suffering that I caused and I promised to use my dark powers for the good of those around me... if they proved worthy. But I was hopelessly alone..."

Sellanna reached to Vaell's hand and took it softly in hers and gave it a little squeeze. Vaell's eyes filled with tears as he felt the warmth of his people once more... a warmth he had not felt in years. He looked to Sellanna and smiled.. his eyes closed as he wished that moment could be felt forever.

"not so long back something started to happen to me... after finding some peace I would have the odd occasion of returning to my true form. I took to wearing masks to buy myself some time as I would frequently have to leave people, mid sentence without explanation. my behaviour puzzled many but I swore that I would explain one day... in fact... I think today is the longest I have been like this... you must have a positive effect on me..."

Vaell smiled widely at Sellanna, his eyes bright, the burden of his secret lifted.

"you are the first I have told this tale to, Sellanna... I'm sure you will see the other me... but not now..."

Vaell nervously fingered the mask that he had round his neck, unsure for a second whether he should lift it over his mouth... then stopped and grinned... tonight he felt alive.

--

And there it is... hehe

[azrael_1]

Loved reading some of the stuff in this thread so having been inspired here goes.



Mine is a familiar and yet strangely other tale, which may jar or strike a chord with some.

As a child I didn’t remember my parents, only that something happened and I ended up here in Stormwind at the orphanage. Like the other children I looked forward to that one week of the year when our local heroes and friends of the orphanage would take us adventuring and traveling with them.

We were hardy little tykes, always in and around things and up to stuff. I wanted to be like one of the warriors or a follower of the light, a paladin. As I grew though I found myself spending more and more time alone, enjoying my own company and thoughts.
Whenever one of the bigger kids hit or bullied me or any of the smaller ones such thoughts would burn in my mind. The deeds I would do and pain I would extract if my thoughts could become actions. As this was spotted by one of the attendants she arranged for me to visit the mage tower. She had claimed to see things move on their own and half see demons and imps around me. Of course I humoured the adult as she obviously couldn’t be correct and must be weak in the head.

The next few years were spent in books and libraries and did nothing to thicken out my muscles or frame, I had always been less than robust. My mind though, now there was a different matter. Thanks to the mages I could do so much, pity it had.nt been more when I was sent to the Kirin’Tor.

My apprenticeship was to an old kind man who even saw the good in the undead and some of the blood elves. He educated me to see the possibilities that others offer and that we should celebrate our differences rather than use them as excuses to violence war. Tragic then that Arthas scourge passed our way. I watched what was done from hiding as he had told me to do. When they had gone it was myself, a human youth, and an undead female warlock who buried him.

She took me in and helped me to Southshore to leave me with “my own kind” as she put it. I spent moths being little more than a slave to earn my roof and food and clothes. I grew to resent the treatment and decided to go back to the only one outside the orphanage and mages to show kindness.

Hathor took me in and made me her apprentice and showed me what a mage can become if they let go and use all at their disposal. Part of me struggled with the rules and strictures of the mage orders, but part wanted the power.

As time passed in our travels I grew powerful and the name Abell began to be known, eventually we found ourselves in Westfall. In the hamlet’s with windows and doors closing as we passed we traveled till we found ourselves in Moonbrook. It was here that Hathor told me of the village being attacked and people killed by members of the horde raiding there.

She had told me her real and secret name not the one she took as an undead, and there on a gravestone was her mothers name. She had wandered searching for those horde and died while fighting them but had eventually killed them all. Now she charged me with finding and righting my wrongs. She told me “If you clear the taint from your memories you will be free to do great good with great craft”.

We parted soon after and since then I have unraveled my own web and took vengeance when needed and helped others when needed. I will kill those who attack me but as in my youth still defend the weak, of any “side”.

I am a warlock and proud to be a human who counts an undead as his future bride.

[BigShox]

Biggles Showsworth was born to a family of travelling entertainers. His childhood was a happy one, nestled in the bosom of the troup and visiting towns and cities the length and breadth of Azeroth. As he grew older he bacame interested in magic and illusions, but showed no aptitute or talent beyond simple tricks to be performed for the amusement of the audience.

The troup had gained a good reputation across the Eastern Kingdoms and were asked to perform for the garrison at Theramore during the winter festival. The night they boarded the ship at Menethil was clear and cold, with glistening stars carpeting the night sky. As the voyage commenced beer flowed, song flourished and banqueting enjoyed by the all aboard the Rosedew with the entire troup and other passengers looking forward to the coming festivities. Biggles' father took him to one side and informed him that during the first performance the next evening he would announce his retirement and that Biggles was to become the new troup leader. Swelled with pride and not less than a few beers Biggles settled into a deep sleep in his hammock below decks that night.

Disturbing dreams trouble his sleep however, dreams of wailing and great sorrow, ice cold water, green auras of putrid magic, howling demons and rotting flesh.
Seemingly unable to wake himself a cold dark mist descended, more demononic faces would peer from the gloom as it seemed an eternity passed.

Biggles opened an eye and was shocked into full alertness by his surroundings. He sat up, confused, how could this be? Was this still a dream? Then the stench struck home and a further shock juddered through his body, not only was he somehow transported to the dank confines of a crypt, but his skin was green and putrid with bones protruding from the torn flesh and salty rotten clothes hanging from his withered frame.

Staggering into the light at the top of the short crypt stairway Biggles found himself on the edge of a small decrepid town, the entire place populated by undead creatures similar to himself. As he stumbled down the dirt track towards the edge of the cemetary a creature wearing what appeared to be a military uniform approached him.

" Ah, Warlock. Welcome to Deathknell. Your trainer awaits you, you should go imediately . . . "

As the warmth of the morning sun thawed his aching bones Biggles became aware of a power within him, power of great potential. He knew that the man he had been was somehow now gone, though the means of his demise were a mystery.

Many mysteries would confront him in his journey through a new and war-torn world. His entertainment would now come from battle, his pleasure from destruction. Death almost without meaning, life without sanctity.

Accepting his new role he took on the task required by his mentor.
As he unleashed a searing wave of death upon his first target as smile came to his face . . . transformation complete.

[Absalom]

As with RomaGoth my warlock's back story is on my blog. I had thought about bringing those posts to a Den hosted blog.. but haven't thus far.

[Belmilia]

Most of my character's information is found in her blog, but her background statement is below:



If you must know, I was born to parents of good family - yes, those Carringtons - and educated as well as our diminished fortunes would permit. Like many others of good birth, our family holdings had been sadly reduced by the wars. Unlike others, we were never forced to stoop to actually working for a living.


I was fortunate enough to contract a favorable marriage to Lord Howell, whose ... unfortunate ... death left me his title and considerable property. It really is a shame the rest of his family predeceased him. Why I believe the shock of their deaths might have hastened the poor man's demise.


More tea?

[Pernicious]

Heh, I'm currently working on it. The first part does a good job of summing up the background.

Chapter 1 - Redemption - The Warlocks Den Forums