Kota Sorrowblade, Tyrant of Souls Edit
Basic facts about Kota:
- Full Name: Kota Lucius Sorrowblade
- Sex: Male
- Place of Birth: Unknown, presumably somewhere in Lordaeron.
- Date of Birth: 10/30
- Current Residence: Tempest's Reach, Gilneas
- Age: 63
- Eye Color: Pale Brown
- Hair Color: Grey
- Hairstyle: Long and messy; a little longer than shoulder length
- Weight: 168 lbs.
- Height: 6' 1"
- Intelligence Level: Very High
- Known Languages: Common, Gilnean, Gutterspeak, fragments of Nerubian
- Tattoos/Scars: Kota's body is covered in battle scars; he has seen much war in his life, and is proud to have every one of those scars. On Kota's left arm, he bears a wicked black skull design in the center of a gothic cross.
- Jewlery: Kota's fingers are covered in black and tarnished silver skull rings, or bands etched with an ornate, gothic design. Attatched to a silver chain on his hip, Kota wears his mysterious Cross of the Necromanteion, which he uses for Soulweaving. Also, Kota sports the amulet of the Reapers on his neck.
- Left/Right Handed: Right, but ambidextrious when it comes to weapons.
- Personality: Kota is a very intelligent, well-mannered man. When in a big city or out in public, he walks with his arms cupped behind his back and his head up. If he is alone, for instance on a walk, he walks very slowly, using his either a staff or his scythe as a walking stick, and he keeps his head down. Kota doesn't talk or interact much with those he doesn't know, but when he is with a friend or two, he loves to emerse himself in conversation. He does not care much for cocky people, or those who doubt his power; if you do irritate Kota, you'd best say your last goodbyes quickly, he can kill before you even realize what you've done....
- Voice: Kota has a light British accent, and usuallty speaks very quietly.
- Patience Level: High
- Optimist or Pessimist: Kota is somewhere in the middle; though, at times he can be more of an optimist.
- Greatest Fear: Kota fears nothing, he has witnessed horrors mortal men couldn't comprehend in their wildest nightmares.
- Biggest Regret(s): Betraying his wife for power, and ultimately being the reason she died.
- Biggest Accomplishment(s): Aquiring Death's Scythe, becoming a master Shadowmancer and Soulweaver, being the master of Assassin and Shadowmancing prodigy Cole Crowley, and helping in the creation of Azeroth's most infamous Assassin organization.
- Family: Abigail Sorrowblade (Wife, deceased), Cole Crowley (Apprentice, alive), Vlad Desmoulin (Close Friend, alive)
- Marital Status: Single
- Alignment: Lawful Evil/Chaotic Neutral
- Aliases/Nicknames: "Soul Sucker", Death
- Titles: Master Assassin, Master Shadowmancer, Soulweaver, "The Reaper of Souls"
- Affiliation(s): The Reapers
- Occupation(s): Priest, Rogue, Assassin, Shadowmancer, Soulweaver, Tailor, Chemist
- Mounts: Shadowsteed - Despair
- Skills: Weapons Master, Master Assassin, Master Shadowmancer, Soulweaver, Martial Artist
- Theme Song(s): Soul Sucker - Ozzy Osbourne, Dance of Death - Iron Maiden, Moonchild - Iron Maiden
- Likes: The Darkness, reading, long walks at night, a nice cup of tea
- Dislikes: The Light, loud noises, direct sunlight
- Favorite Color: Black or Purple
- Favorite Food: Cinnimon Rolls
- Favorite Drink: Honeymint Tea
- Favorite Music: Slow and quiet.
- Favorite Animal: Raven
- Religion: Previously a follower of the Light; now that his eyes have been opened, Kota is dedicated to the Shadows.
- Belief in Gods/Goddesses: Yes, but he only follows those allied with the Darkness.
- Belief in an Afterlife: Hell - Yes, Heaven - Yes, Purgatory - Yes
- Hobbies: Reading, tailoring, training with Cole, taking long walks by himself
- Quotes: "Your fate is decided: everlasting damnation for your sins..."
- Strengths: Master Shadowmancer and Assassin, complete resistance to dark/shadow attacks, very agile and strong, very intelligent
- Weakness: The Light
- Base of Operations: Sorrowblade Fortress, Duskwood
AppearanceEdit(( Coming Soon ))
Soulweaving (Kota's Tale)Edit
One cold night, after he had finished reading one of his many old tomes, Kota set out for a quiet walk under the moonlight. He finished off his glass of wine and headed out. As he strolled through the small, foggy marshland in south-central Gilneas, he quietly whislted a tune. He let his mind wander and carelessly rambled to himself while gazing at the bright stars. However, his peaceful walk was about to take a turn; suddenly, Kota heard a slight noise, perhaps a twig snapping. He stopped in his tracks and peered around. A sharp pain suddenly assaulted his mind, and he fell to his knees. As he began to blackout, he saw a humanoid figure dressed in full black armor coming toward him; the figure was accompanied by what appeared to be a Nerubian. Though, Kota finally did blackout, and the two assailants carried him away. The Nerubian-esque creature opened a swirling black portal, and the two walked through with Kota now in their possesion. Kota, still very dazed and confused, opened his eyes a bit, realizing he was no longer in Gilneas. He heard a strange chant echoing through the black stone chamber; it was spoken in an unfamiliar tongue. He turned his head a bit to see a circle of blazing shadowfire, and a mysterious altar behind it. Suddenly, out from a somewhat hidden hallway, came a group of humaniods dressed in all black; they wore either torn, flowing robes or wicked, spiked armor. Hearing a few quiet hisses, Kota managed to raise his head just enough to look up, seeing several of the Nerubian-esque creatures repelling down from the celing. The leader of the creatures spoke in their strange tongue to the apparant leader of the humanoids. The human leader, now speaking in Common, explained to the creatures' leader, "We have brought you your subject, now give us the Cross. Lord Eclipse's rule over the Plain of Nightmares begins here, and he requires the Cross of the Necromantieon to--..." "You Blacksssoul have done little for usss! We refussse to ally ourselvesss with you, unlesss you asssissst usss with our ritual, and continue to sssuply usss with sssubjects." The leader of the creatures snapped to the leader of the group of Blacksoul. "Hmph... You Chaos Weavers would be of great assistance to Lord Eclipse, we will help you preform your ritual... but if you do not hold up your end of the deal, the Dark One's mighty fist will crush your pathetic temple." "Fair enough... come, let usss begin the ritual." Kota, chained to the ground and on his knees, looks to the group closing in on him under heavy eyelids. One of the Chaos Weavers unchains him and another whispers for him to come over. Kota complies, but only because he cannot think straight. The chamber he was in was overcome with an extremely powerful dark pressence; the walls were cold, and he could literally hear souls cry out in pain. "Now, we begin our ancient ritual... thisss mortal will be the firssst human in agesss to preform the Dance of the Dead..." The Chaos Weaver's leader stood infront of the altar and summoned Kota over. He was led into the middle, and as he stepped into the circle of blazing fire, the flames seemed to do him no harm. Kota stood completely silent in the center of the circle, he was numb with fear. As the Chaos Weavers and Blacksoul began to chant, time seemed to slow for Kota. As if in a trance, Kota began to preform a strange dance, unwillingly of course. And suddenly, his spirit was lifted from his body.... As his spirit rose, it looked down to watch as Kota's mortal body danced and sang with the Chaos Weavers. Kota's spirit hovered a few feet from the celiing of the chamber; he howled and laughed down at his body as it danced and pranced in the circle of fire. Kota's spirit did however stop for a moment to analyze the beings in the room; these 'Chaos Weavers,' as the Blacksoul called them, had an arachnid-like look, which before led Kota to believe they were Nerubians. However, upon a closer examination, he realized that these creatures were not -only- arachnid-like; Kota made out that the upper half of their body indeed fit the description of a human's. Every one of the beings in the room was undead, Kota had no doubt about that.... They were all so strangely inhuman, however, Kota believed they had ascended from Hell. Spirits rose from the fire and formed a 'tornado' around Kota, infusing him with an extreme power. Finally, the chant began to die down, and Kota's spirit drifed back into his body. Kota stood in the center of the circle, not knowing if he was alive or dead. The beings continued to chant, and they began dancing and singing as Kota did. Fortunately for Kota, a skirmish started between twsome of the denizens, and as soon as the attention was taken away from him, Kota fled. He ran quickly out of the dark chamber, temporarily disrupting the tornado of souls circling him. He stopped for a brief moment to analyze further the black cross upon the altar, and without a second thought, he took it. Kota weaved through the nearly pitch-black hallways, with only dim blue torches burning on the walls. He did not look back, and he finally came to a large courtyard. Kota, out of breath, examined the cross; the large purple gem in the center flared with dark energy and a soul flew from it, tearing open a purple portal. Kota gazed into the portal and saw his house. Kota stepped through the portal, which consumed itself as soon as he did. Upon returning to Gilneas, the exhausted old man staggered to his doorstep, and nearly fell into his home. He managed to get himself upstairs and into his bed. Kota tried to catch his breath as he held up the cross; he watched as the soul energy danced in the center crystal, and heard a faint call to him from within. Kota smirked and set the cross on his nightstand, laying his head on his pillow. Still unsure of the full potential of this newfound power and trinket, Kota drifted off to sleep, knowing that all would be revealed, in time...
The Battle for GilneasEdit
It was a quiet, gloomy day, not unlike any other in the kingdom of Gilneas. Kota was secluded in his home in northern Tempest's Reach, studying some newly aquired tomes and trying to figure out the secrets of his Cross. Hearing the sound of hooves on the cobblestone road outside, Kota stood from his desk; he could make out distress calls of the Gilnean guardsmen. Knowing something terrible was about to take place, Kota stood, grabbed his staff, and exited his home. He headed for Gilneas City, figuring it would be the primary location for what was about to happen. Upon his arrival, he noticed soldiers everywhere, and citizens panicking in the streets. He walked towards Prince Greymane, who was mounted upon his steed and giving orders to the guards. The prince told Kota of ravenous beasts terrorizing the kingdom, the worgen. Kota offered to assist any way he could. Joining up with a small group of heroes who had agreed to do the same, Kota and his comrades set off to defend their homeland. After several hours of combat with the worgen threat, Kota and his teamates were tired. Having been given the order to "never surrender, but sometimes retreat," Kota, his team, and the few remaining Gilnean soldiers fell back into Light's Dawn Cathedral.
Kota appraoched Darius Crowley, asking him for a situation report. "We've got a good chokepoint here, Kota. Feel free to say a prayer, if that's your sorta' thing. Take courage and let's kill these mutts..." Crowley responded. Kota smirked and nodded, preparing himself for battle. The worgen began to swarm the cathedral, Gilneans were being slain left and right. Kota kept his composure, decimating the invaders with his mastery of the shadows. A final wave of worgen rushed inside, one of the beasts setting its sights on Kota. The old man looked over to Darius and offered a sly half-smile, readying his staff. The worgen leapt for Kota, who was standing just before the altar. With once powerful vertical strike, the fanged skull atop Kota's staff not only shattered the skull of the bloodthirsty beast, but took a bite out of its jaw. Lowering his weapon as the worgen landed on the floor, Kota slowly strode down from the altar, observing destruction that had ensued. He stopped and looked about at the last of the worgen as they were slain by the remaining heroes. Kota smiled as he tried to catch his breath, however, the victory would be brief. Unbeknownst to anyone in the cathedral, a stray worgen was climbing on the ceiling, using the rafters as footholds. The beast set his blood-red eyes on Kota and smacked its jaws in huger, leaping down at him. Darius turned and shouted, "Kota, no!" Kota arched a brow and turned his head slightly, but it was too late. The beast had sunk its huge fangs into Kota's neck, ripping away and leaving one of them stuck. A gunshot was heard and the beast fell to the floor with a 'THUD!'. Darius bared his teeth as he looked down the barrel of his rifle. Kota attempted to reach for the fang penetrating his spine, but he could not muster the strength and fell to his knees; finally, completely void of energy, Kota landed face-first on the ground, dead...
Though this is what the remaining heroes in the cathedral saw in the mortal realm, Kota's soul remained sitting on its knees. In the spirit realm, the cathedral seemed to be breaking apart, and the mortals vanishing from sight. Kota's soul slowly looked around, noticing a thick black smoke begin to fill the area. Rising from the black cloud of darkness was the Grim Reaper himself. His quiet, raspy voice echoed in Kota's mind as he lazily held out a hand, "Kota Sorrowblade, your fate is decided: everlasting damnation for your sins." Kota's eyes widened as the Reaper raised his head, revealing his ghastly skeletal face. "But that's not possible! I-I always thought..." "Come, face eternity... Soon you will be joined by those whose lives you have ruined, whose souls you have damned." Kota bared his teeth, slowly standing and muttering, "I will not let my sins damn those near to me..." He gripped the worgen fang still in his neck, forcefully ripping it out. He tossed it to the side and picked up his staff. "...I will redeem myself." Death readied his wicked scythe and seemed to grin under the heavy black cloak. "Mortal, you are mine..."
The Reaper held his scythe on front of him, the blade straight and pointed at Kota. "You cannot cheat Death!" he taunted. The Reaper swung his scythe, the blade returning to its natural curved position; he stepped through the shadows toward Kota, striking at him with the wicked scythe. Kota blocked with his staff, knocking the wraith off kilter. Sorrowblade then delivered a few brutal staff-strikes of his own, the Reaper grunting in pain. "Face your sins, Kota!" Death shadowstepped backwards and reared back, hurling his scythe at Kota. Luckily, he had raised his staff just in time to block it; however, when the scythe ricocheted off Kota's scythe, it flew behind him as a boomerang would. Death's scythe spun back around to Kota, who ducked but was still sliced across the back. Kota shouted in pain, charging the Reaper and delivering a few more powerful strikes. The Grim Reaper held his scythe out in front of him, the shaft growing and the blade pulling Kota towards him. Death held Kota's neck in his cold, skeletal hands, muttering, "You are mine..." Kota squirmed for a moment, but reached for a knife in his boot, slashing the Reaper across the face. Kota landed on the ground, now free of Death's grasp. He readied his staff once more, prepared to finish the fight. Death roared and gripped his scythe, unleashing a wave of darkness from his body in order to knock Kota back. Sorrowblade slid to the edge of what used to be the cathedral, now a circular piece of land floating in a black abyss. He regained his footing and stood as the Grim Reaper began to hover a few feet from the ground. "You will pay for what you have done!" he challenged. Kota snarled at the comment and ran at him once more, the two locking weapons for a moment. Sorrowblade was to be overpowered if he held on any longer, so with all his strength, he shoved the Reaper's scythe back at him, distracting him. Kota then roared as he leapt into the air, delivering a skull-shattering strike to the Reaper's head. Dazed, Death fell back to the ground on all fours, his scythe blade stuck in the ground. "Im... possible." the Reaper muttered.
Kota dropped his staff and ran to the scythe, ripping it from the ground. With the blade pointing straight out, Sorrowblade charged the Reaper, impaling him with his own weapon. Kota pulled the blade out slightly, thrusting it back in to knock Death back; he did this three more times, the final thrust pushing the Reaper a managable distance away. Kota smirked and flicked the scythe, the blade returning to the natural curved position. Death put up his arms, as if to sheild his face and he hissed, "Back away!" Kota held the wicked weapon in his hands for a moment. The shaft appeared to be that of a large, slightly curved spine; an evil skull sat atop the weapon, in the center of where the jagged blade met the shaft. Sorrowblade turned his attention back to the Reaper who seemed to be ready for another beating. He polevaulted using the scythe, kicking the Reaper in the chest. He then slashed at him a couple of times with the weapon, knocking him back to his knees. Kota grinned wickedly and swung the blade into Death's chest, holding him a few feet off the ground; he then swung back, throwing the Reaper to the ground. Death, now begging for his own 'life', begged Kota, "No, please... I can help you!" Kota ignored his plea and struck the wraith vertically, the blade plunging into his mouth and down his throat. Sorrowblade tugged down on the weapon, ripping down to the Reaper's midesection. As the wraith's hisses and cries for mercy grew louder, Kota bared his teeth and with one forcefull pull, ripped the Grim Reaper in half. As Kota did this, every soul in Death's possession flew to him, being absorbed into his body. The Cross on his hip glowed brightly with Soul Energy as the last of the souls entered Sorrowblade's body. Kota fell to his knees as Death withered away and his remnants seemed to evaporate. Extremely dizzy, Kota felt his eyelids become heavy. He looked to Death's scythe, gripped firmly in his left hand, and smirked before falling back to the floor, unconcious.
Kota lazily awoke to the sound of men cursing at each other. As he struggled to hold his eyes open, he realized that he could not move either his head or arms. Krennan Aranas slowly approached him, seeming to be extremely cautious. "Mr. Sorrowblade, you're... alive?" Kota shook his head in an attempt to wake up a little more; he eyed Krennan up and down. "Clearly. Why am I in the stockades, Aranas?" "Well Kota, those that have been bitten by the worgen have turned into the beasts themselves. I don't have a cure for the Curse yet, but there are treatments..." Krennan muttered. Kota arched a brow, "Have I exhibited any signs of transforming?" "None whatsoever, Mr. Sorrowblade. Actually, we presumed you to be dead... Not very many men could take a fang to the spinal cord and live to tell about it." Kota lightly chuckled and shook his head, "Yes well, it was an experience... Now, if you would be so kind as to let me out of here. I need to be getting home." Krennan nodded and smirked back at him, releasing Kota from the stockades. As Kota rubbed his neck he looked around the area, studying the caged worgen. "Now that I think about it Kota, perhaps your synch with the shadows has allowed you to resist the curse." "Ah, you may be right, Krennan... So, there's nothing more you can do for -them-?" Kota approached one of the worgen in the stocks. The beast eyed him and snapped its jaws; Kota jerked his head back and wiped some salive from his cheek. "Nothing more. We've done all we can." Kota took a deep breath and nodded, "I see... Well, good luck Krennan, I must be going. Where is my scythe?" Krennan's eyes widened as Kota asked; he pointed to a weapon rack holding the confiscated weapons of those that were presumed cursed. "How did you come by such an evil thing, Sorrowblade?" "Eh, it's a long story my dear friend. A story for another day..." With that, Kota sheathed the scythe on his back, smirked, and headed back home.
Upon arriving back at his quiet cottage in Tempest's Reach, Kota noticed something rather unsettling: his home had been ransacked. He cautiously approached the front door, which was slightly ajar, and slowly opened it. Kota stepped inside and closed the door, studying the destruction. He sighed and lowered his weapon as he found a picture of his beloved wife Abigail buried amongst the rubble. He said a prayer quietly to himself and did the sign of the cross, standing slowly. He leaned Death's Scythe against the wall and waved a hand, the shadows reversing the damage that had been done. Within moments, Kota's home was returned to its former neat and tidy state. He nodded with approval, but looked alert as he heard something outside. He grabbed his weapon and kicked the door open, only to be greeted by a large, shadowy behemoth. A terrifying creature with titanic horns, as well as clawed hands and feet; a massive blade gripped firmly in its right hand, a heavy sheild strapped to its left. Kota readied his scythe as the beast fully emerged from a swirling black portal. It roared and eyed Kota, "Return the Cross, human! You do not deserve such power!" Kota arched a brow and looked down to the Cross chained to his hip. The crystal in the center flared with Soul Energy and the cries of stolen souls could be heard. Kota looked back up to this Guardian of Nightmares with a devilish smirk; he spun the scythe masterfully and prepared for battle.
The Guardian of Nightmares slammed its sword against its sheild and roared, charging at Kota. Sorrowblade rushed forward as well, swinging his scythe vertically downward. The shadowy beast raised its sheild, the scythe striking it sharply. Kota kicked offthe shield and regained his footing, the Guardian already back on the offensive. It swung its hellish blade horizontally, attempting to slice Kota across the chest, but the old man was too quick; Kota leaned back, the sword mere centimeters from his face. Sorrowblade swatted the blade away with his scythe, skillfully striking at the shadowy beast. The Guardian grunted in pain but quickly shook it off, raising its sheild and barreling towards Kota. Watching the beast's every move, Kota waited until the ideal moment; as the Guardian came within five feet of him, Sorrowblade lept into the air and preformed a frontflip with his scythe drawn, slicing the Guardian down the back. The creature roared in pain but quickly turned to reface the old man, slamming its heavy shield into him. Kota flew back and skidded on the ground. He shook his head and quickly got back to his feet. Suddenly, cries echoed in Kota's mind, beckoning him to the Cross on his hip. Realizing that weapon attacks seemed relatively useless against this Guardian of Nightmares, Kota pulled the Cross from the chain on his hip and held it out in front of him, a massive burst of soul energy knocking the beast back. Kota grinned and felt the power of souls course through his veins; he sheathed his scythe and assumed his fighting stance, the Cross fimrly in hand.
The Guardian stood and shook off the blast, charging Kota once more. Sorrowblade muttered a spell and through out a hand, an angered soul flying at the beast. The soul struck the Guardian, who seemed to be quite surprised at this. Kota smirked, "It seems I'm getting the hang of this..." The beast snarled, "You dare presume to kill the Guard of the Dead?!" Rushing forward, the Guardian wildly slashed at Kota, landing only a few of the attacks. Kota held one of the wounds he sustained, glaring at the beast, "I'm afraid you've just sealed your fate..." Kota unleashed a barrage of soulblasts from the cross, each one painfully assaulting the Gaurdian. Becoming enraged, the shadowy monstrosity charged Kota again, this time tackling him to the ground. It roared and snarled at Sorrowblade as the two were now face-to-face. Saliva dripped from the beast's fanged mouth and onto Kota's cheek. Unable to reach his scythe Kota hesitated for a moment, but finally smirked with an idea. He reached for his Cross with his free hand, the other attempting to keep the monstrosity at bay. Finally getting it hand, Kota plunged the nearly bladed bottom into the Guardian's eye, causing him to rear up. Kota lept to his feet and drew his scythe. As the beast tried to pull the Cross from its eye, Kota jumped onto its back, placing the scythe's wicked blade at the creature's neck. The Guardian now ignored the Cross, trying to pull the blade away from its neck. Kota struggled to keep hold, but finally munstered all of his strength; he pulled back on weapon, decapitating the Guardian, and causing its body to be drawn back into the portal. Kota pulled the Cross from creature's eye and took a rag from his pocket, wiping the dark red blood from it. Kota smiled and reattached the relic to the chain on his hip, slowly striding back inside.
Sorrowblade spent the next day rigorously training with his newfound power. After taking a long look through his shelves and shelves of books, he finally found something that was of use to him; an old tome entitled "Ancient Magic: A Tyranny of Souls." Hours passed and Kota remained glued to the book. This mysterious form of magic came to be revealed as Soul Weaving, or the art of casting spells in sync with the souls of the deceased; Kota was fascinated. Upon reaching a section about using spirits to improve armor, Kota arched a brow and decided to attempt one of the spells. He laid his battlegarb out on the desk and held out the cross, whispering the spell from the tome. Within seconds, souls drifted from the gem in the center of the Cross and into the robes, infusing them with soul energy. As the magic ceased, Kota lowered the Cross and picked up his armor; the souls had woven purple runes into the cloth, each of them pulsing with energy. Kota let out a hearty chuckle and nodded in approval. Another hour passed and Kota came to a gloom realization: he could not stay in Gilneas, at least not now. The threat of the encroaching Forsaken constantly worried the citizens of the great nation, including Mr. Sorrowblade. He swore that he would return, however, when the time was right. He slipped on his newly improved battlegarb, grabbed Death's Scythe, quickly packed a bag, and slowly headed out...
To Rut'theran VillageEdit
Kota stood and looked about the port, comtemplating whether or not to leave Gilneas once and for all. He wondered if he would ever see his countrymen again. Admiral Nightwind called everyone on deck; Kota sighed, picked up his things, and walked to the harbourside, glacing back one last time. Every Gilnean aboard was fleeing their home nation, and leaving their old problems behind. Ships by the tenfold sailed out on the tide. At first, all aboard the ship seemed to be at peace, pleased to be out and embracing the open sea; all free from their troubles, and more free from the invading Forsaken menace. They were running from their cruel intentions, the evil tongues, rash judgements and selfish men, and were never to be seen on the Gilnean shores again. However, one aboard the ship kept his composure; Kota stood at the edge of the ship, thinking over the harsh reality. There had been word of an extremely powerful storm that was to move in that night. Kota wondered to himself, "Will death be the low mist that hangs on the sea..?" As they sailed into the ocean and lost sight of all land, Kota turned to go below deck, looking about at all the faces of contentment around him.
Riding the waves, the storm was upon them. The winds lashed the sails, but the ropes kept them tight. Off in the distance a dark cloud was approaching; no one could imagine what there was to come. No, there's no one going back, no there's not a second chance. Kota strapped to the side of the ship, praying that he wouldn't die. As they rode the rough seas those aboard the ship were soaked from the ocean waves. Kota hoped for all their lives, and just prayed that he survived. Four ships were lost as the storm began to condense. The spirits of the sunken crews, their phantoms followed them. Kota turned and watched through the heavy rain and raging waves as the souls of those taken by the seas slowly trailed the ship. Spirits and sails drove them on, through the all-consuming waves; The crew's cold mortality was no weapon against the ever-raging seas. After a sleepless night in the storm, things seemed to be calming; Kota rested against the edge of the ship, looking out over the dark blue waters. Their good fortune, however, was about to take a turn.
Four leagues and ten, they hit storms again. They just couldn't get away from the eye of the storm. The birds could outsoar the raging storm but Kota and the rest of the ship's passengers could simply not escape it. The abandoned earth that they now craved was many leagues away. Holding on for their dear lives, and praying once again, Kota looked around to the others with the Cross of the Necromanteion in his hand. Everyone was fatigued and trembling, soaked and cold. Blinded by the seaspray salt, they clasped anything they could hold. The heaven's rain fell upon the ship's demoralized passengers, just as heavy as ever. The storm had finally subsided, but the journey was still far from over. Twenty days without a meal and ten without fresh water, the ship's crew was weak and tired. Kota gazed at those scattered about the deck; those that didn't die in the storms, the scurvy slaughtered.
Westward the tide, westward they sailed on. They approached the other side of the ocean with the tide; it was in their favor just for once. Kota, along with several other passengers, made their ways to the edge of the ship, welcoming their new land. The elation in their hearts and the excitement in their veins filled them as they sailed toward the coastline of their golden promise land. Weary limbs and fatigue struck Kota as they came upon the dock of Rut'theran Village; he had no life left in him. Kota fell upon the dock, coughing and breathing heavy. With no more strength and nothing more to give, Kota searched for his will to live. Never thinking they would make it, truly the sight of the Village was divine. The sickness Kota was dying from quickly began to take him. His eyelids grew heavy and pretty soon, he blacked out; he never thought it would end this way....
Hearing murmured voices, Kota squirmed a little bit. His eyes slowly opened, and he found himself in a healing center in Darnassus. The Night Elves had done everything they could to help Kota, it seemed to have worked. Kota stood and thanked the elves for their help; he put on his robes and headed out. Upon reaching the Gilnean's section on Darnassus, Kota seemed rather displeased. A withering tree? Kota shook his head in disappointment, then just as he was about to turn and walk away from the Howling Oak, he realized his talents would be better put to use if they were used to aid the humans of Stormwind. Although he was greatful for the Night Elve's assistance, he knew his place was among the humans, even if he wasn't human anymore.
- Sorrowblade Piercers- Dual daggers forged of dark purple "soul"-steel (as Kota calls it) and infused with the energy of the Shadows. Black runes run along the blades, each pulsing with the light from Kota's stolen souls.
- Cross of the Necromanteion- The gothic, black-steel cross Kota stole from the Necromanteion. A rather large purple gem sits in the center of the cross, and glows a deep, dark purple. Kota has found that by casting through the cross, his spells are much more powerful, especially his Soulweaving abilities.
- Death's Scythe- Taken from Death itself and used to "kill" its former master, Death's Scythe is now in the possesion of Kota Sorrowblade. The scythe can change into a straight, spear-like form, or collapse into a blade on Kota's arm. Upon defeating the Grim Reaper, Kota aquired every soul he had taken, and became infused with the power of those millions of souls. The scythe allows Kota to collect souls much more quickly, and as he steals them, the scythe's power is increased as well as its master's.
- Kota's scythe looks like this:
Having been an assassin most of his life, Kota is very well-versed in martial arts. His combat style of choice is Tai Chi for its defensive techniques and its ability to coincide well with his spells. Kota utilizes the focus and calmness cultivated by the meditative aspect of Tai Chi in order to allow the dark magic and soul energy to flow through his body, making his spells far deadlier than that of the average darkcaster. Using Tai Chi, Kota studies the appropriate changes in response to outside forces; also yielding and "sticking" to incoming attacks, Kota is able to move with and evade an opponent's attacks, rather then meet them with opposing force. Kota's movements are quick, fluid, and in many cases, beautiful, but one should not be mesmerized by the grace of his martial art; Tai Chi is more silent than the shadow and more deadly than the dawn.
(( Coming Soon ))
- Cannonball Slam- Kota summons a tornado of souls under his opponent, lifting them into the air. He then slams them into the ground headfirst, breaking the skull, spine, and neck. Kota then hovers above his enemy with his tornado of souls and drops, cannonballing downward and crushing his opponent's spine and ribs.
- Cross Assault- Kota takes the Cross from his belt and fires a burst of soul energy into his opponent's face, mesmerizing them. He then tosses his opponent a shadowy skull and forces them to hit themselves in the head with it causing damage to their skull and brain; finally, he makes them snap their own neck.
- Heartbreaker- Kota distracts his opponent with a blinding wave of darkness. He then polevaults using his scythe, delivering a powerful kick to his enemy's chest, shattering their sternum as well as breaking some ribs. Kota then swings his scythe upward, the blade slicing one of his opponent's lungs, piercing their heart, and poking through their back. He finally swings his scythe over his head, throwing his foe to the ground behind him.
- Mind Over Splatter- Kota lifts his opponent in the air using a tornado of souls and tears off all of their limbs, mutilating their body in the process; then he smashes them headfirst into the ground causing their head to splatter on impact.
- Penance- Kota traps his opponent with soul chains which begin constricting around them. Kota draws a symbol in the air with his hand, causing souls to appear and lash out at the foe, as well as summoning a large soul portal in the air behind them. Then, he slashes upward with his scythe, breaking the soul chains and sending his opponent flying in to the soul portal screaming. The portal closes and Kota lowers his scythe, smirking; another soul portal opens above him, dropping his enemy's skeleton on the ground at his feet.
A Soulweaver is an adept in the art of both fighting and weaving using the spirits of the dead. These souls can be collected in a multitude of ways, the most common being scavenging them from corpses or taking them by force (i.e. killing someone by tearing their soul from their body). Using Spiritlooms, which each Soulweaver must forge themselves, they are able to weave Soulcloth. Soulcloth is used in the creation of very rare and powerful clothes which can never get dirty, cannot be destroyed by forced, and increase a caster's spell power greatly. Only those with the blackest of hearts may be fortunate enough to gain the power of a Soulweaver; Soulweavers are usually thought of as the embodiment of evil, as they refuse to let souls rest, and use them for their own purposes.