Selkoth

==Statistics==
Name: Selkoth
Race: Forsaken
Class: Warlock
Professions: Herbalism and Alchemy
Guild: None
Age: 20 (at death)
Height: 5’5
Weight: 120 lbs.
==Physical Appearance==
(Under construction.)
==Description==
Having recently escaped the control of the Lich King and the undead Scourge, Selkoth has found his world turned upside-down. In his time as a human, he had been preparing to study magic at Dalaran. He originally grew up in the quiet town of Southshore, located in the Hillsbrad Foothills, known as Samuel Carlson. As of now, he has no knowledge of the whereabouts or well-being of his family and friends. 
==Connections==
(None.)
==Lore==
====Awakening====
I cannot claim to remember much of my past, and can neither say I care. Nevertheless, I find myself slowly reclaiming my memory through dreams. I suppose that is when my subconscious is most at work, or whatever decayed remains are left of it. Shortly before awaking to my dreadful reality in the crypt, I remembered something of my past life.
I was studying to be a mage in Dalaran, and had grown up fairly comfortably in the quiet port of Southshore. I needed something, likely reagents, for an experiment I was performing. I can only guess that it was for some absurd entrance exam. As if the old fools could have taught me anything nearly in comparison to what I have learned from my new peers. I guess that’s besides the point, though.
I had traveled north to Lordaeron, and entered what presumably must have been the shop selling the particular ingredient I was looking for. The building burst into flames, just as I was about to bring a small vial to the register. I can recall hearing the vial crash as I dropped it, forgotten in my fear. The building collapsed.
I’m sure that necromancers animated my body shortly after, and I went into service of the Scourge, having no functioning mind of my own. How long I stayed in such a horrid state, I have yet to discover. Needless to say, I eventually must have regained some of my own mind - similar to these memories, most likely – as perhaps the Lich King focused his effort to the defense of the Frozen Throne. At that point, our Lady Sylvannas Windrunner seized the labyrinths of the destroyed Lordaeron from Arthas, and we took residence.
But enough of history you must surely know. My recent memories are much clearer: I awoke in a crypt, numb and confused. This alone was much shock to me, and I praised the Gods for delivering me from the disaster in Lordaeron. I began to wonder whether my family believed me to be dead, when a cold realization came over me. Looking down at my hands, I saw not human flesh, but bone. Tatters of cloth and a few remaining pieces of decaying skin were all that covered the mostly exposed bones that formed my arms. I raised my hand to feel my decaying face, the eye sockets void of anything but a slight flicker of light; and my dehydrated and desiccated hair. I must have sat in the crypt for hours, trying to take in all that had happened, cursing the Gods for leaving me in such a cursed form (an oddly ironic twist from when I first awoke, looking back on it), and wondering what I would do with my life, or rather lack thereof.
Eventually I steeled myself up to travel up into the world. I prepared myself for the reaction any sentient being would surely make upon seeing me. When I stepped up the final set of dreary grey steps, I was greeted by a man in a condition almost exactly a kin to mine. As I stumbled out into the rain, I quickly glanced over my surroundings: to the left, rows of graves, one of which seemed to be in the process of being excavated at the moment. To my right, another crypt, with its doors shut (and surprisingly intact, a sharp contrast to everything else I could see). I returned my gaze to the …man standing, clothed in drenched grey robes, in front of me. He too had decayed, and had actually fared worse than me, which served to cheer me up, however slightly – he was completely bald. He introduced himself as Mordo, and informed me of my past slavery to the Lich King. Although I currently had no recollection of that name, I decided it was best I save my questions until later. I needed time to think.
However, it ended up I was not meant to have such time, or not right then. I was immediately instructed to travel down the hill to speak with Shadow Priest Sarvis. Upon entering the chapel, I noticed how fortunate I truly was. I could see the priest, and noticed at once that he was missing both the faint glow that most forsaken eyes possessed, and a lower jaw. Nevertheless, he sensed my entrance and told me more of my situation.
He elaborated on the nature of the Lich King’s slavery, and sent me to kill nearby undead, possibly coming from the same crypt as I – however, they had not been as lucky to regain their free will. Standing beside him were trainers of various magical arts. I realized why as I was about to leave the chapel: I had forgotten the incantations to all of the spells I had learned in Dalaran. It was unfortunate, but I did not dwell on it for very long. Turning back into the room, I made my way to not the mage trainer, but the darker magician standing on the other side of the room. I had no interest in relearning spells that I had known in my past life, and the man’s control of a small demon by his side, along with strong schools of magic intrigued me.
Just as I had changed in physical appearance since my time as one of the living, so had I changed in mind. My past was nothing to me; the few memories I had of it now disgusted me. One such memory was that of my name. I resolved never to return or think of my past again, and start anew with a name more fitting to my new life, one which did away with the weaknesses of my past: Selkoth.
Category:Horde
Category:Forsaken
Category:Warlock
Category:Herbalist (H)
Category:Alchemist (H)