Post by Martin Brownfield on Jan 31, 2009 22:30:52 GMT -5
Name: Martin Brownfield
Age: Who knows, been dead for a while. 6 years since raised.
Gender: Male
Race: Undead Human
Faction: Sylvanas' Forsaken
Position: High Apothecary of the Forsaken
Magical Branch: Alchemy, Enchantment, Transmutation, Artifice, Necromancy.
Appearance:
Very pale skin (like most forsaken). Green eyes that seem to glow a little. Black hair down to his ears. Gaunt features and several scars on the left cheek. Somewhat tall, about 5'10'', and not particularly bulky.
The intensive healing he has invoked on himself has covered up almost anything that might make you think he was dead other than the pale skin and scars... he does live underground, after all. Slightly muscular due to weapon training. Talks with a Lordaeron accent (equivalent of a London accent).
Personality:
Always seems occupied, there is always something in his mind. Even when he's not working, he is always thinking or calculating something. Has an interesting sense of humor, very sharp and witty, but also rather cynical and bitter. Easily annoyed, but can control his temper. Very proud of the fact that he looks almost human compared to the other Forsaken. He is known for flirting with human and elven necromancers/warlocks all the time.
Most males who have met him say he is a stubborn, arrogant, egotistical, vain, cynical drug dealer.
Most females who have met him say he is a strong-minded, proud, realistic, attractive, witty brewer of magical potions.
Weapons/Items: Just about every trinket he owns is enchanted in some way, and most of the things he has conjured or made. He has a large stock of potions and flasks. His most powerful item is a wand that allows him to animate dead.
Talents: Chemistry/alchemy. Making potions. Crafting items and enchanting them. Mechanics and engineering. Fencing. Lying. Insults. Getting information. Sneaking. Convincing people. Getting out of trouble. Diplomacy in general. Acting.
Weaknesses: Brawling and unorganized battle. Casting spells without a book or wand. Combat casting. Intimidating people. Hard, manual labor. Horseback riding. Prone to annoyance. Pessimistic.
History Interview (RP Sample):
[IC] Before I start, I'd really like to point out that I made this device with my own hands. I really love it now, I really didn't expect it to work. If I lose connection, well, I don't know how to re-establish it yet, so if that happens you're just going to have to deal with it.
Hmm... Before I died is a bit hazy... I remember something about not liking it too much -- and perhaps other people not liking it very much either -- hence the dying part. After that, I sat in a grave for a few years, and then I was dug up by a Scourge necromancer. It was rather unpleasant, to be honest.
He took me back to his little lair, gave me a bow and arrow, and told me to go hunt him some dinner. Really, he was a bit of an idiot to do that before controlling me, so I shot the bastard in the face and ran off with his spellbooks and this nice little wand here. A few days later, I was found, lying in a ditch, after casting a stun spell on myself, by a patrol from the Undercity.
I don't really know what else they did to me, but they brought me back and I had this d**n interview with this stupid banshee lady who called herself Sylvanas. She asked me all the nuts that you just asked me, and I told her something entirely different. I told her that, before I died, I was a master alchemist who traveled the world, gathering the finest ingredients to brew powerful potions and sell them in the Dalaran bazaar. The stupid woman actually bought it, so yeah, that's how I got here... In my job, that is.
Now I've been here as an Apothecary for about five years. I got promoted to Master Apothecary two years ago, and yesterday I replaced the recently re-deceased High Apothecary of the Undercity. It really is an honor to most people, but I think it's just more power, more toys, and, most importantly, no rules.
I've talked to Sylvanas, the stupid banshee woman, about espionage missions to Stormwind City. Since I look so much like a human, you see. So right now I'm *feedback* positioned in *feedback* an *feeeeeedbbaaaacckckk* *transmission cut* [/IC]
Age: Who knows, been dead for a while. 6 years since raised.
Gender: Male
Race: Undead Human
Faction: Sylvanas' Forsaken
Position: High Apothecary of the Forsaken
Magical Branch: Alchemy, Enchantment, Transmutation, Artifice, Necromancy.
Appearance:
Very pale skin (like most forsaken). Green eyes that seem to glow a little. Black hair down to his ears. Gaunt features and several scars on the left cheek. Somewhat tall, about 5'10'', and not particularly bulky.
The intensive healing he has invoked on himself has covered up almost anything that might make you think he was dead other than the pale skin and scars... he does live underground, after all. Slightly muscular due to weapon training. Talks with a Lordaeron accent (equivalent of a London accent).
Personality:
Always seems occupied, there is always something in his mind. Even when he's not working, he is always thinking or calculating something. Has an interesting sense of humor, very sharp and witty, but also rather cynical and bitter. Easily annoyed, but can control his temper. Very proud of the fact that he looks almost human compared to the other Forsaken. He is known for flirting with human and elven necromancers/warlocks all the time.
Most males who have met him say he is a stubborn, arrogant, egotistical, vain, cynical drug dealer.
Most females who have met him say he is a strong-minded, proud, realistic, attractive, witty brewer of magical potions.
Weapons/Items: Just about every trinket he owns is enchanted in some way, and most of the things he has conjured or made. He has a large stock of potions and flasks. His most powerful item is a wand that allows him to animate dead.
Talents: Chemistry/alchemy. Making potions. Crafting items and enchanting them. Mechanics and engineering. Fencing. Lying. Insults. Getting information. Sneaking. Convincing people. Getting out of trouble. Diplomacy in general. Acting.
Weaknesses: Brawling and unorganized battle. Casting spells without a book or wand. Combat casting. Intimidating people. Hard, manual labor. Horseback riding. Prone to annoyance. Pessimistic.
History Interview (RP Sample):
[IC] Before I start, I'd really like to point out that I made this device with my own hands. I really love it now, I really didn't expect it to work. If I lose connection, well, I don't know how to re-establish it yet, so if that happens you're just going to have to deal with it.
Hmm... Before I died is a bit hazy... I remember something about not liking it too much -- and perhaps other people not liking it very much either -- hence the dying part. After that, I sat in a grave for a few years, and then I was dug up by a Scourge necromancer. It was rather unpleasant, to be honest.
He took me back to his little lair, gave me a bow and arrow, and told me to go hunt him some dinner. Really, he was a bit of an idiot to do that before controlling me, so I shot the bastard in the face and ran off with his spellbooks and this nice little wand here. A few days later, I was found, lying in a ditch, after casting a stun spell on myself, by a patrol from the Undercity.
I don't really know what else they did to me, but they brought me back and I had this d**n interview with this stupid banshee lady who called herself Sylvanas. She asked me all the nuts that you just asked me, and I told her something entirely different. I told her that, before I died, I was a master alchemist who traveled the world, gathering the finest ingredients to brew powerful potions and sell them in the Dalaran bazaar. The stupid woman actually bought it, so yeah, that's how I got here... In my job, that is.
Now I've been here as an Apothecary for about five years. I got promoted to Master Apothecary two years ago, and yesterday I replaced the recently re-deceased High Apothecary of the Undercity. It really is an honor to most people, but I think it's just more power, more toys, and, most importantly, no rules.
I've talked to Sylvanas, the stupid banshee woman, about espionage missions to Stormwind City. Since I look so much like a human, you see. So right now I'm *feedback* positioned in *feedback* an *feeeeeedbbaaaacckckk* *transmission cut* [/IC]
