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The Eternal

The Eternal of Dominion WoW


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    Sinclair's Backstory.

    Sinclair
    Sinclair


    Posts : 61
    Join date : 2010-02-13
    Location : Sweden.

    Sinclair's Backstory. Empty Sinclair's Backstory.

    Post  Sinclair Mon Mar 15, 2010 3:22 pm

    My character Sinclair's backstory.

    Childhood to early Twenties.

    He was born in the town of Andorhal in Lordaeron, now commonly known as the Western Plaguelands.
    After his birth he was taken care of by his mother and sister, who later on left for adventure, he lived in Andorhal for half a year. Eventually he and his mother moved back to the farm where his father and older brother lived. Early on he was recognized for a will to explore, but he already had darker wills then. During his youth he lived quite the peaceful life, until one day when he was about the age of thirteen, he just left. He had no reason in the world to leave his family and peaceful life without notice, but he was certain he was meant for greater deeds, atleast that was his own thought of it all.
    At this tender age he moved to the grand capital of humanity, Lordaeron.

    Though he was incapable of doing any kind of manwork, he started to spiral down into the darker and dirtier parts of the slum, from the mercenary part, to the part of the town where all the brothels were situated, where he was stealing from the rich men moving in and out of the city part. The boy was already turning into a cruel criminal, even though he still kept himself to only moving sometimes to the finer areas and pickpocketing the people there, if he got caught he would utilize his already growing quickness and speed to outmaneuver the people chasing him.
    At the age of sixteen he had risen so far in the youth criminal underworld that he was the leader of a small pack of thugs who did several tasks for different people, usually larger criminal groups which of who'm the young criminals wanted to join, so they attempted to make their best to prove their worth to that organization.
    Only after leading the small gang for half a year he was recognized by the leader of the largest but also most secret criminal group in the underworld, the Ebon Cartel.
    The Ebon Cartel was a criminal circling around alot of dirty buisiness, drugs, illegal slavetrade, prostitution, hiring out thugs and also, and the most secret of them all, assassinations. The Cartel didnt send out their people to assassinate someones wife, they were master assassins aiming for the nobles, politicians and such. In the beggining Sinclair started out as a hot tempered thug, but he worked himself through that too, very quickly. He had a goal, and when he set up a goal he never gave up, he once said to a comrade thug. At the age of eighteen he was swallowed up by the assassins brotherhood within the cartel, he dissapeared from the streets and his old friends never heard of him again. Inside the brotherhood he was trained by the greatest of the active assassins. When he had his twentieth birthday, he had his first mission. The mission was a complete success and he continued to work for the Cartel, up until one day.

    It was quite the routine mission, he was to take out a non too important politician that had been working against the Cartel in different ways, but this day was no regular day, he was caught by a skilled spy that the politician had hired for his own safety. He was sent to prison in the deep dungeons of Lordaeron, actually not too far from the sewers that would eventually become the Undercity.
    His escape from the prison was, least to say, thrilling. He used his wits and help from another prisoner to make it out of his cell, beat down the guards and start moving to the exit. During the escape he ruthlessly ended the life of the prisoner who had helped him, he then managed to escape by looting the keys to the exit from the prisonchief's body, who had been sleeping when he found him.

    But when he escaped his life had turned against him, The Ebon Cartel froze him out and sent assassins after him, his friends turned their backs against him in fear of that the Cartel would kill them too, but he managed to escape. But he wasnt the same, he had settled as a drunk in the slums and was presumed dead.


    The Backalley.

    Blurringly Sinclair could make out a couple of voices.

    - Oy! Look at 'tis one, A voice echoed in his head.

    Sinclair woke up from his drunken slumber with a striking headache, recalling to yesterday. Regretting the huge quantities of bourbon he had stuffed himself with, knowing he'd still fall back to it in a couple of hours. He also gave his ruined liver a thought, when the dizzyness slowly faded away he looked around him, it was early in the morning and the moon was still in the sky albeit soon gone. Around him four men and a dwarf stood, obviously a band of thugs, Sinclair twitched slightly. Of course that was to regret as these thugs usually took any sign of weakness as a go for buisiness, darn vultures, thats what they are.

    - Ey, drunkman. Get up on ye feet, The tallest man said, he was about 6'4, muscular and harshly sunburned. But didnt seem too smart.
    - Yea, why dont ya! Said the one in the middle, he was either naturally bald or shaved bald, he too was quite muscular but not as tall and looked to have a southern heritage, he was around 5'8 tall.

    Sinclair moved his hand to his forehead, grinned slightly and then opened his mouth to speak.
    - Right gentlemen, may I call you that? You look like pretty smart lads so I thought that before you're going to beat me up and steal whatever I possibly can be carrying, lets discuss this...

    - Shit no drunkard, get up and we'll get 'tis over. We'll mess ye face up real good! Said another one of the thugs, a dwarf with a black beard and grim eyes.

    - Calm down, now listen, gentlemen. I'm completely broke and I wont prove too fun to beat up, let me just take my bottle and leave.

    - Shut up you dog, said the tall one as he leaped forth and aimed for a straight left punch at Sinclair's face.

    Sinclair gave up a slight sigh and then spun around from his seated position, drew the bottle from its spot. He kicked the tall man on his right leg, getting the gargantuan man to trip and fall, given the surprise moment of the rest of the group. Sinclair slammed the bottle into the ground and creating a temporary weapon, he was in a hunched over position after the sudden movement, a couple of feet away from the shorter bald man. The bald man was in the middle of a kick aimed at Sinclair's head, he attempted to dodge the shoe which was growing uncannily larger as it approached his face. The kick hit him on the lower part of the jaw, it was a pretty hard kick with a lot of force behind it. When it struck Sinclair flew backwards with his head sent in an upwardly going arc.
    As Sinclair hit the stone street below he quickly rose and stabbed the bald man who was coming in for another kick, in the left thigh.
    As the man screamed in pain and fell backwards, Sinclair went for the two other men, who was apparently younger and with less rutine of the backalley fights of Lordaeron. He was about to strike the youngest one, a boy of around his late teens or early twenties, but he had forgotten about the dwarf.
    As the thought came he felt a punch in his side which felt like a hammerblow.
    The dwarf had circled around him, assessing the situation and obviously an educated fighter. He wasn't going to be an easy fight. Sinclair's leap was abruptly stopped and he was thrown sideways and he struck the stone street, again.
    - By the damned light, this is tearing on me. Sinclair quickly rose up only to get another hammerblow in his face, breaking his nose. During the fall he slammed the bottle into the ground.

    --

    - Hah, ye humans are real wusses, ye 'no that? The dwarf went in for the final knockout as he threw a punch going in an arc downwards. The dwarf was strong, but slow. Sinclair had completely pulverized the bottle when he fell, he took the small glass pieces and threw them into the eyes of the dwarf, blood spraying out from the dwarf's left eye. The dwarf cried in pain and Sinclair lifted his two legs and sprung them out at the dwarf's groin. The dwarf let out a shriek and fell down onto the ground, as he rose he noticed that the tall man had risen again, but to Sinclairs relief the man had watched the fight against the dwarf and had taken the smart approach, fleeing together with the two boys. The dwarf was totally knocked out, he had feinted in the pain and was going to die in the alley sooner or later. The bald man had already died due to heavy bloodloss. Reflecting on the fight Sinclair said to himself.

    - No fight's too dirty, no task too cruel. This is really the slum of the slums...

    Then the adrenaline dropped and the pain picked up, his whole face aching and his body being totally exhausted. Sinclair rose up. He was a man in his mid twenties, with a heavy facial hair growth, it was obvious that he was a man of the slum. His breath was always stinking of alcohol. He was a wreck. Still, he had a well built body and a quite long black hair.. He was, apart from his obvious alcolism and slowed senses, a man fit for fighting. Which was something he had been doing alot, to survive the slum you had to be able to fight.

    He looked around, assessing to the surroundings. It was the same old slum, the same old backalley, the same city. Lordaeron, the grand capital of humans. Of course, it too had its backsides...
    One was himself, a drunkard, brawler and now a killer. But foremost, he was going to need a good lot of bourbon, or stout, or ale. Well fuck it then, it doesnt matter, any kind of sensedampening toxic he could get his hand on. Lets blunt the nerves some.
    Noone was there apart from a sleeping drunkard and a quite tall man with a rugged face and dark leather clothes.
    The man was observing him intensely...


    Rottigar.

    Sinclair observed the man in the dark leather clothes, the man had a well trained body, a rugged, hardened face and a well trimmed beard. The man was in his middle to late thirties. He had a very short brown hair and dark eyes.
    The man started moving, the movement was stiff but still very flexible, he had an extremely good balance sense and walked forth like he was a carnivore, silently moving forth for the leap. Sinclair started going through his options, in his state he wasn't going to outrun this man, so he was going to bet on that the man wasnt going to be violent. Sinclair lifted his hand in a greeting movement and wobbled slightly, his body feeling like weed flowing to the currents of the sea.
    - Hello there, you look like a nice gentleman, could you help me to the bar please?
    - Cut the bullshit, the rugged man said with a hard tone in his voice, You're coming with me.
    - You're a guard or something? You dont look like it, you're too old and you're wearing the wrong uniform, An Ebon Cartel member? If so then I'll just give myself up, show mercy my good man! Sinclair lifted his hands up in a surrending motion.
    - Shut up you drunk, just follow me and we'll get you taken care of, the man slapped Sinclair, the pain was, however, very strong due to his face already being wrecked.
    The rugged man lead him through the city, Sinclair heard the slight metal sound of daggers under the mans long leather tunic. Both of them didnt say a word during the long walk through the city, they graduatly went through the slum, they eventually got to a small cornershop just at the entrance to the slum area of Lordaeron. Sinclair had seen the cornershop sometimes when he had passed, it had a sign announcing it was selling boots, but above that sign a smaller one hung, that sign said that the shop was closed until further notice. The rugged man knocked a long code on the door and a small hidden lookhole opened with a slide, on the other side there was two intensely blue eyes. From the other side Sinclair could hear a voice,
    - Hmm?
    The rugged man replied, with a low voice, but clearly.
    - Magnetian Pores, all gibberish, my newfound cousin, one three three seven. Cartel man.
    The lookhole closed and on the other side you could hear different locking mechanizm's being unlocked and the door slowly slided open, the rugged man threw Sinclair inside the shop and he fell handlessly on the wooden floor on the other side, the door closed behind him and the different locking mechanism's was locked again.
    - What in the fuck Rottigar, why do you bring a drunk here? I was first going to shut you out. A man with intense blue eyes and a long blonde hair stood in front of the rugged man, the man was in his late twenties and was about 6 feet tall, he too was wellbuilt. He was speaking to the rugged man who was apparently named "Rottigar".
    - Shut up Claude, you didnt see this man, and you dont know who he is.
    - Well who is he Rottigar? He cant be that important since we usually only care for the big freakin' cheese!
    - What by the light is going on!?, a womans voice abruptly interrupted the argumenting men...

    The Bureau.

    As Sinclair took another sip of the strange brew the blonde man called Claude had given him, Claude had been looking at Sinclair suspiciously all the time since Sinclair had arrived, Sinclair looked around the table he was sitting in, sitting on the opposite side of where Sinclair was sitting, a woman was sitting. She had presented herself as Isabelle, she was about 5'6 and her too, well built, with black curly hair and a relatively dark skin, she was indeed very good looking, no doubt about it... To Sinclair's right sat the man who was named Rottigar, who was a well known veteran of the group, but also a veteran assassin of another well-known criminal group then the Ebon Cartel. To Sinclair's left sat a thin tall man with dark skin, mail armor and his long black hair tied into a ponytail, the man had been presented by Rottigar, he was named Moby and was apparently mute, his tounge been cut off, standing at the door was another woman, she had blonde hair and blue eyes, in her belt there was rows of throwing knifes and a pair of longer stillettos.
    To Isabelle's left sat Claude, the blonde man with the deep blue eyes.
    - Now, Rottigar, tell us who the fuck this is, said Isabelle with apparent irritation.
    - You do not recognize him? Rottigar gave her a mocking grin, This is Sinclair, the failed masterassassin of the Ebon Cartel.
    - You mean the Sinclair? Him? Never, and for that matter the Sinclair you're talking about should be, and is, long dead.
    - Well he's sitting right here!
    - No he ain't, this isnt THE Sinclair of the Ebon Cartel, everyone knows the Cartel cleans up after its visit on the toilet. Said Isabelle with even more irritation.
    - Doesnt matter, said the blonde woman at the door, Let him rest and we'll continue tomorrow, then we'll decide if we'll "dump" him or continue the thinking process.

    The next day Sinclair rose up from the temporary "bed" on the floor, which was in reality just a thin carpet, with an incredible headache and a swollen face and an aching stomach, both from hunger and from the pain of the dwarf's blow from yesterday. He rose up from the carpet and looked around him, the others were already awake, all five observing him.
    - Guessing from the fact that I ain't dead, I guess you've decided to let me live for the moment. Said Sinclair with a groan.
    - Shut up, we ain't letting you go though. Claude was obviously irritated by his prescence. Then Isabelle cut in.
    - We do have some question though, like, how the hell did you manage to survive as a damn drunk in the slums when almost every assassin in the Ebon Cartel was looking for you.
    - Well, I know how they think, to say the least. Wasn't too hard...

    --
    Time before the meeting with the Cultists.

    The time between his meeting with the Cult was probably one of the most enjoyable times of his life, he had a quite easy profession, the protection The Bureau gave politicians was very well and since he worked in a group they were able to stop all of the assassination attempts at their designated people to defend. He was starting to, he had engaged friendship with the majority of the group. Even though his relations with the majority of the group, the blonde man Claude didnt trust him a second, it seemed. He was also having a small romance with the leader of the bureau.

    Sinclair walked up the steps, at the end of the creaking path of stairs there was a small roof-hatch, he had a slight trouble getting through it. He could hear her laughing, that beautiful laughter.
    She was sitting with her well shaped legs over the edge of the roof they were on. The roof was a regular wooden roof, simply nailed in place but quite strong since it had carried Moby's weight when he had been up there.
    He silently walked over too her and sat next to her, just observing her watching out over the sea of other roof's, stretching over the horizon, the sun was slowly decending from its reign over the sky, leaving place for the moon. Suddenly she spoke with a soft tone.
    - It's beautiful. Sinclair responded with an almost matching tone after a secondlong silence.
    - Indeed. He looked out over the horizon, letting his arm slide over her back slowly and softly as he spoke. She didn't respond to it at all, just accepting it.
    - Mhm... She mumbled, he pulled her arm over his shoulder and he slowly pushed her down to the ground, then he just stayed on her, lying with his chest at hers, looking into her eyes, for what? A quarter? When he eventually proceeded.
    - No... It wont work, lets keep it professional. She said, rejecting him. He was struck with pain and sadness, but he backed off. He left the roof and slowly opened up the roofhatch, leaving her there. When he came down he cupped his both hands over his face, he then walked down to the floor below the one he was on, they were having a mission done soon, he had to straighten it up.

    It was on another simple routine mission his life took another turn, he came into contact with a group called The Cult of the Damned. He was sent to spy on their operations to judge if they were of any kind of danger, or just some cult filled with maniacs and apocalyptic preachers.
    He got to know what the Cult was planning by acting like he was interested and in truth, he was becoming more intrigued with the Cult for every day that passed whilst he was investigating them.
    Eventually, after a lot of talking around he got an audience with a high rank member, who had a preaching of their great leader Kel'Thuzad and about their mighty king who would one day arrive to bring them to their justful elevation.
    He caught the eye of one of the member who was working directly below Kel'Thuzad in the cult, the man apparently knew who he was and wanted to introduce Sinclair to the mighty Kel'Thuzad himself.

    Introduction to Kel'Thuzad.

    He was damn nervous, why he didnt know. But Sinclair felt like he was going to be part of something big, he sat on a small stone bench in a hall which was deep below the earth, several staircases. The hall was made of stone and in the end there was a large iron door.
    Suddenly the large iron door opened with a creak, on the other side there stood an old man, in his late sixties maybe, he had a well developed grey beard and wore a black robe with a hood over his head of the same colour. He was about 5'9 tall, had a slight hunchback and a pale skin.
    - The master will meet you now, the man spoke with a voice which was constatly breaking up.
    - Thank you, Sinclair responded and bowed, he then entered the room on the other side of the iron door. The room was larger then he had imagined, it had a roof three times higher than the regular height found in houses on the surface. The room had a couple of stone benches, but the central thing was a large circle in the middle with different runes on it, it was in the center of the room on the floor.
    When he had looked around he heard a loud bang, the iron door had shut behind him and infront of him suddenly stood a man. The man had a quite brown skin, grey hair and a beard. He wore the skull of some kind of animal on the top of his head.
    - Greetings, I see you have come here for the first time. You are welcome, child. The man looked at Sinclair, suddenly the mans eyes started glowing, the other cultist's behind Kel'Thuzad started grinning, one saying.
    - The master is amazing, isnt he? Kel'Thuzad's eyes started glowing even intensevily then before, then he held his hand out and put it on Sinclair's shoulder. Instantly Sinclair felt some kind of feeling, he couldnt put his finger on it but it was a nice feeling, he felt like never before...
    - You will be of great use to us, Kel'Thuzad said with a wide grin.

    - Great use... Child...

    Time before the final mission.

    The time before his final mission was of great importance for the rest of his time, during the time he was taught low level necromancy, which he failed at..
    He also learned some shadow based magic and he was able to augment his skills in assassination using them, he also kept doing the regular missions with The Bureau and keeping his Cultist actions a secret and giving them vital information so they could avoid being too investigated by the Lordaeron officials.
    Until one day the group got a strange mission, it had been sent by a royal messenger and was from the head chief of the personal defense of the king, Terenas Menethil II, they had sent an order for The Bureau to immediatly prepare to defend the king during his meeting with his own son, Prince Arthas
    Nevertheless the bureau started their preparations and kept the schedule, Sinclair would play the very important role of stopping the prince and also giving the sign for the others to move in and stop the prince, should he show any signs of violence towards the king. The Bureau was told by the Lordaeron officials that they had heard from different sources that prince Arthas had turned mad and attacked his own men and unleashed a storm of death and decay accross the humans of Northrend...

    When Sinclair was walking on the street casually the morning before the mission, he was called by the cult. He quickly found himself in their headquarters after rushing down the stairs to the room.

    The Final Mission.

    - You will come to the greatest importance for us yet to come today... We have heard about your mission to protect the king and we wish of you to do... Or rather do not do a couple of things... My friend... He stood infront of a familiar man, his current mentor was as loved as a father to him, and now he was asking him to do something for him, he would of course gladly obey.
    - What do you wish of me, master? Looked at his mentor with his concentration aimed directly at the next words Kel'Thuzad would utter...

    - W-why? Sinclair hadn't expected that from his old mentor, but he was willing to do it.
    - Ah, I will not answer that. Now go, I guess your comrades are awaiting you...

    Sinclair was walking back to their headquarters, time was to prepare for the upcoming mission, which seemed to be of utter importance.
    He stood outside the door he had used many times now since he first got here, he knocked on the door in the current day's code. He then answered with the long code and was let in.
    They were all sitting there, ready with everything.
    - Let's get a move on now that we're gathered. You've got all your stuff ready Sin? Claude stood with his arms crossed over his chest whilst speaking.
    - Yep, lets go.
    He looked across the room again and locked his eyes on Isabelle, she looked at him for a second and then turned her head away, checking the straps keeping her throwingknifes in place.
    They walked out of the room, shut the door. They left Moby and Claude's sister to guard the headquarters whilst going out on the mission. They were walking down one of the many streets of Lordaeron, as usual there were loud noices everywhere in the city they went, people chatting, yelling and whispering. Dogs barking or growling. Sinclair thought of the fact he had never stopped to listen to the city, the city was as it was alive. It was breathing. Living.

    They reached the citadel, it was quiet. They walked up on the upper floor, surrounding the king from above, having a good eye from all directions in the citadel. It was funny that the king didn't know about their prescence, as they had been hired by someone else who did not trust Arthas the way the king did. They started making the preparations in the case of any hostility towards King Terenas.
    He looked at his fellow's, giving them a last look before the mission. He looked at them all, doing their things. Then Isabelle started speaking with a clear but low tone.
    - Right, lets get ready, get into your positions. Remember not to harm the prince unless he shows any hostility towards the king. He looked at Rottigar, who looked back into his eyes and gave him a nod in acceptance. Sinclair stood slightly to the side, above and behind the throne. Having a good view at the prince when he was going to speak to his father about his return. Now the clock's started ringing from above, people started cheering, the prince was here. Everyone of the team hunched over, hiding from the prince entering, Isabelle and Claude had left to the lower plane, the same level as the throneroom. They were going to guard the king more closely.
    Sinclair gave Isabelle a thought before he readied himself. But suddenly he felt another being inside him, someone he knew...

    - Give her up, she doesn't love you. The voice echoed in Sinclair's head, it was the voice of Kel'Thuzad.
    - None of them cares about you but we, now carry out the masters will. It ringed in his head again, and suddenly the two large wooden doors slammed open, the cheers of the people could now be heard even more intense, pieces of roses were flying at the prince outside. He looked at the prince really good, the prince was wearing a very odd armor decorated with different ornaments, most of them being skulls...
    He walked forth and stood infront of the king, he had two captains behind him, Sinclair knew who they were, Captain Falric and Captain Marwyn. Strange men the two.
    Then the king suddenly spoke, greeting his son.
    - Ah, my son. The king spoke, but what he was going to say next was interrupted by the prince, speaking in a whispering tone.
    - You... No longer need to sacrifice for your people... You no longer need to bear weight of your crown... I've taken care of everything! The prince then rose up, the greatsword he was holding glowing in a weird way. The prince aimed his sword at the king and then started walking hastily towards the king sitting in his throne. He saw Rottigar starting to move, getting ready for taking the prince out with surprice. Then the voice of Kel'Thuzad echoed within Sinclair's mind.
    - Stop him! It lingered in his head, and Sinclair aimed and quickly threw the small throwing axe into the face of Rottigar, killing him instantly. He noticed Claude and Isabelle moving around their hiding spots, also attempting to stop the prince who now was halfway to the king.
    - Kill them, she doesn't love you! Kel'Thuzad's voice echoed once again. He did as ordered and struck Claude with another throwing axe. Isabelle turned up and saw him, Sinclair could read from her lips;
    - Why...? He stopped for a moment in his aiming with the next throwing axe.
    - Give her up, she is working against the master's plan and must be stopped. He watched Isabelle looking at him, they were in a stalemate. And in all this chaos in his mind he heard the king ask his son, with surprise in his voice.
    - What is this?... What are you doing my son?... Isabelle then attempted to leap out of her hiding place but was struck down by the throwingaxe of Sinclair. Then he heard the prince speak again...
    - Succeeding you... Father...
    Shryke
    Shryke


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    Post  Shryke Mon Mar 15, 2010 4:32 pm

    Long backstory is long.
    Tirillion
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    Post  Tirillion Tue Mar 16, 2010 3:41 am

    Sinclair wrote:
    - Succeeding you... Father...

    ^ read that one.





    Jk, I read some of the text, awesome tbh ^^
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    Post  Guest Tue Mar 16, 2010 7:23 am

    No fair, you didn't do much to summarize it.
    Sinclair
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    Post  Sinclair Tue Mar 16, 2010 8:07 am

    It's not even finished actually, theres from the fall of Lordaeron to modern day Azeroth, how he survived that chaotic era, we'll see.
    Shryke
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    Post  Shryke Tue Mar 16, 2010 11:26 am

    Sinclair wrote:It's not even finished actually, theres from the fall of Lordaeron to modern day Azeroth, how he survived that chaotic era, we'll see.

    Olawdie.
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    Post  Guest Wed Mar 17, 2010 5:43 am

    Oh for the joys of short-lived characters. If I put detail in the majority of my backstories I would never finish.

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