Category:Deathknight
From OutcastWiki
|
"Death Knights are a different breed of characters. Something changes when you die, are resurrected and commanded to slay countless of innocents. The visions of your past never leave you, for some this would be agony, but a Death Knight no longer cares. The fact of the matter is, we enjoyed killing. We relished it. We understood our calling and for a brief instant we were able to become all that we truly could without any mortal restrictions holding us back.
Then all things changed.
A spark of recognition from a past life brought us to an understanding that the slaughter of thousands upon thousands of hapless souls may not be the best thing that Azeroth could require. Our cold, lifeless hearts and minds were cracked. Something changed that day on the hill. The light, whatever it was, forced our old shackled souls to shatter the very prisons that had kept them detached from our walking husks.
We were reborn again.
We are still cold however. Life and death are meaningless. The slaughter of innocents is not sought after, but it will not be avoided if it is required. We will never shed tears, we will never apologize, never again will we show any emotion except for the icy rage that beckons our souls into the true oblivion that we so desire. It is only the one single goal that keeps us tied to the land of the living.
The Lich King must be destroyed.
Only then will we embrace the final kiss of death herself."
-Reliquary, when asked, "Why are you here?"
Blood, Frost, and Unholy
We are tied to the elements. No, not like the shaman, druid, or mages, but the raw elements. The true elements, the ones that cause the cosmos to whirl and dance about. The blood that spreads life where it pulses, that causes the muscle to flex, that lifts the arm, that holds the axe, that splits its foes in twain. The icy death that awaits us all. The cold reminder that the knife edge we walk is the only small glimmer of mortality amidst the frigid abyss below. Finally, the unholy, the knowledge and understanding that we have indeed passed through the abyss and will forever be changed. No longer do hope and dreams form within us, for we have seen the truth. We no longer care, the dead we were, the dead we'll be, and for now, the dead will walk, and we will walk with them.
Blood
We understand the need for life. We see the pulse of our enemies, and we see the strengths and weaknesses it provides. We relish when it spills, we rejoice when it sprays, but most of all we savour in its power. The red ichor of life flows throw us, over us, and around us. We dance on our foes and drink to our fill. With every drop to the slaughter we grow in strength, in determination, and in power. We will not be stopped because we cannot be stopped, every blade plunged into us only serves to empower us to go farther. We are the absolute chaos, with which the world will bleed, and we will be there to devour it whole.
Frost
The frigid abyss awaits all of us. Some of us live with one foot firmly planted in the abyss and the other in the living world. The very air and ground we pass through and trod upon remains decimated in our wake, caught in a perpetual frozen nightmare. The mages, cocky in their intellect, believe they understand the power of ice, they are but children, playing with baubles. True frost is born, not of water, but from the void, the abyss, the absence of anything. This is the ultimate dimension of the bone-shattering cold that only the dead can comprehend. Leave the mages their chilled water, but to us, give us the frigid embrace of the abyss. It's where we call home.
Unholy
Fear death you say? Ha, I have been there, I have felt its sting, I have stared long into its eyes and I have laughed, oh how I've laughed. Death is but a paltry excuse to scare children and worshipers to follow religious zealots. No, we do not fear death, for we have lovingly fed death, shared in its seizures, its throes of maniacal intent, and we have celebrated in its victory. To all things, comes death, but from death only one thing is given, and that is us. We have returned, but we long to go back to her sweet embrace. It is not so however, we must move forward, there is but one who stands in our way. The one who snatched us from death's bosom and put us back into this world. We have not forgotten you Arthas, and neither has death, she has sent us back for you and with you, and only you, we will return to her.
This category currently contains no articles or media.
