by Grethtal (wowstead) on Sat May 08, 2010 1:37 am
Nickname (if any):
Class: Death Knight
Physical Appearance: He is large in stature with a heavyset build that is clearly muscular and strongly defined, but he keeps himself mostly covered. His movements are oddly fluid and appear out of place as they are somewhat calculated in appearance, though passively so. He keeps his head shaved and his beard tight to the face.
Brief History: Grethtal never lived up to what his father expected of him, his mother resented him for that. Not only did her husband have to go to war, he came home and could not be happy. Grethtal grew up knowing only rejection. He was not normal by conventional standards. While others socialized he kept to himself. While others relished the thought of joining Horde forces and facing the enemy in battle, he was content playing in the dirt and building devices. He soon learned what the emotion of hate really felt like and learned to love the feeling, it became like a drug to him and in his eyes it justified his every action. He is emotionally flawed and to a severe degree to the point of no return. While many feel dying with honor is a great accomplishment, he sees it as ridiculous. He kills for the high and commits acts of sheer terror for the sake of eliciting hatred from his victims, a hatred he has become accustom to. It is unknown what history supports his becoming a servant of the Lich King, but after the fact he became even more terrible than before.
While battling the forces of the Light as an agent of the Scourge he found himself having to chose between self preservation and blind ambition. He had no care to wage or be a part of any war against the Lich King and so he kept up appearances until he could leave Ebon Hold to forge a new path. After his militia fell apart he was left alone to wander. Never having had a mission or a purpose he could define, he now finds himself at a crossroads. Does he look to belong somewhere or should he continue to aimlessly murder the innocent?
by Grethtal (wowstead) on Sat May 08, 2010 12:48 am
"Look at him! He plays in dirt and digs up rocks all day." My father would say that at least three times a day. Every day, the same complaints. He asks my mother why I'm not a "normal" like the others and all she does is stare at him without an answer. She puts her eyes on me as if to assign blame for making him angry with her. While they run and play war shouting "Blood and thunder!" like idiots with nothing better to do, I make my things and find books to read. I write in this journal because it seems to be the only thing that wont reject me. My father has all but disowned me, my mother doesn't even acknowledge my presence and it is all because my father is a war monger. I cannot help how I feel. Why is it expected from my father of me that I should follow in his footsteps? I feel so alone. Everyone trains to defend themselves, to fight our enemies, and I sit and play in dirt because I don't want to fight.
My parents are fighting again. Dad has to leave to battle. I stood by the doorway listening but all I could make out was shouting. I'm old enough to fight, but I don't. Everyone else my age is leaving to fight and they make fun of me and call me a coward. But I look at them and tell them that war is stupid. Their bodies will come back in wagons and I will live to see another day. The door opened and my father caught me eavesdropping. He was not happy and I was put to bed sore that night. I learned what hate feels like. A burning feeling in the pit of my stomach, a cold and tight feeling in my chest. A numb feeling in my head. I walked out as my father left and my mother turned to me with those eyes that judged and resented my existence. "Why can't you be like your father?" I spent that night digging around the house.
It was a great feeling, finally being able to release all that hate into one piece of machinery. Too many people try to justify war. I don't care much for war at all. But I need an outlet. Some way to express myself and to let the others know that I am everything they should fear. I finally figured out what makes me different. War is an institution fueled by ideals. I don't have a vision, I think I just love to kill. My parents are finally worried. I think my dad found all the dead animals I've been leaving half eaten outside. They look at me with more disgust now than ever, but at least now there is included in those looks a sense of fear. With time I can turn fear into respect or better yet... hate.
This is the letter you asked for sir. You're looking for a madman, you know this, right? Either way its none of my business. I won't put my name on this. If he finds me... he's a sick sick monster. Anyway, this took place in Westfall some time ago. This monster they call Grethtal was walking through there without a care in the world, like he owned the damned territory. He was dragging a body, a human body I'm not sure if it was dead or alive, but it was definitely not moving. I was hiding in a shack as soon as I heard the screams, VanCleef's men were scattering. My curiosity got the best of me. I found a hole to peer out of where I could see what was going on. He was leading some sort of military force, a small army of sorts. His men were taking care of the Defias while he tossed the body on the road. "WAKE UP!!!" he shouted. I almost jumped and would have been a dead man. The body stirred, sat up and looked up to the Orc, fear in his eyes. He started shaking and crying. Grethtal paced a bit and eventually posed a question, "You like feeding information to the enemy?" The apparent violator shook harder, "No" is all he could manage to get out. Grethal was immediately enraged "YES YOU DO!!!" He punched the man's knee cap crushing the center of his leg. The man screamed. Grethtal turned to one of what appeared to be his subordinates and asked them to bring out the cage. Soon a cage with a woman and a small child inside came on the scene and about that time I started to become frightened myself. The man on the ground began sobbing, "No please! Let them go! Kill me... KILL ME!!" Grethtal turned around and looked him square in the face..."Connor, killing you won't teach you a lesson," he said in his deep rumbling voice, "I need you to feel hatred for me." The man now identified as Connor just stared blankly. Grethal asked him if he hated him. "No... I mean..." Grethtal immediately turned, opened the cage and yanked out the woman. He turned her away and set her off free then turned to his nearest subordinate, "Kill her when she gets to the beach. Bloody the sand." With a grunt the soldier took off. Connor was crying now, screaming and could not move to do anything. Grethtal grabbed the young child, a girl, who began sobbing for her father and reaching out to him. "Connor, I am going to make sure that when I kill you, you completely despise me. I need that Connor. I need you to hate me so horribly, it pains you to be alive in my presence." I'm not sure what he meant by any of that, I was more concerned for the little girl. What would he do to her in front of her father? Connor sat crippled on the ground and made a sound. Grethtal leaned in, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Connor looked up a combination of hate and fear in his eyes, "I hate you." Grethtal smirked, if an Orc can smirk, and looked him square in the face, "Not hardly enough." What happened next I... I have trouble talking about, I'm not sure I can write it, but you need to know what you're dealing with. He...picked up the little girl and put her under his right arm.... then, with both hands, he grabbed her head and ripped it from her body. He held the head by the hair in one hand and threw the body at Connor with the other and then thrust the face of Connors dead daughter's head into his face, he shouted something along the lines of "hate me" and there was Connors enraged and pained screaming and then... my head was numb and spinning by then, the last thing i remember seeing is Grethtal taking the head and crushing it with both hands right in front of Connor's face... all I remember is passing out and waking up in my own vomit.
Don't ask me for anymore information, this is all I have.
I don't know how I made it out of that alive, but let me tell you I don't want anything to do with finding him. I've written this to you like you asked but I'm staying out of it. All I know is that this a monster we're dealing with. The bastard can kill without even being in the area. We never saw the traps coming, never new the building would kill everyone, it was a massacre. There's no way he's natural, he works machines for killing. He dresses like a soldier but doesn't seem to be a part of any real military. I think he leads his own militia. I'd seen him around a few times, but he's not the approachable type. I'm not sure how he rigged that building, maybe it's because its near a swamp, but it felt like an earthquake and then the whole building just sank into the ground and the hole filled up. I'm not sure how I survived, I remember waking to a hand pulling me out.
I left in the middle of the night, on my watch. In the dark one really has a chance to contemplate certain things. Such as why Grethtal surrounds himself with only people he considers intelligent enough to operate with him. Why he operates a militia with mixed races and why the hell could he possibly be such a sick monster. I'm leaving this note behind explaining why I'm leaving because you're my best friend, but I need to hide. I need to hide my family. We need to survive. What happens the next time someone makes a mistake? What if it's you? He'll make me cut your head off in front of everyone, or if it's me? What if I mess up? I don't want to stick around to find out. I'm leaving and hiding with my family somewhere safe... if there is such a place. Just do yourself a favor and leave when you can. Get the others to do the same. We can't beat him, but we can sure as hell hide. Do you remember when we were all walking through the Wetlands, how we had that cage we carry prisoners in? All I can remember is the look on that woman's face as she sat there with the three severed heads of her husband and two children rolling around in the cage with her. It's going to haunt me forever. She just stared at me, or stared at nothing... I'm not sure. I don't want that ever again. I feel empty because of what we've been through. He's not a leader he's a killer. He thrives on hatred, he loves being hated, if you don't hate him, he won't kill you and if he can't kill you he will make you hate him. Then he'll kill you. Leave, go back to Darnassus, you'll be protected there. I'm taking my family to Ironforge and living underground in the mountains. The world's a big place, hide well.
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