In-Game: Vassali, Vass
Clan: Tears of Draenor
Race: Undead human, not allied with Forsaken
Professions: Herbalism, Alchemy
Age: 22 at Death, 29 current
Eyes: Glowing yellow
Weight: 198 lbs.
Height: 6' 1"
Vassali's self-conciousness in regards to the effects of the plague still lingers with him. He is nearly always seen wearing something to cover the lower half of his face where the Crusade affixed a steel plate. Be it a simple cloth mask or a concealing helm, he has come to feel somewhat naked with it exposed.
For the majority of the time he wears very casual, and more importantly, comfortable garments; cloth robes and a pair of thin leather gloves complimented by a light silken cape. Due to his primary occupation being an entirely defensive warrior, his armor is very thick and heavy. Thus, given his frail composure, he prefers to be free of the bulky weight of it whenever he can. However, when fully armored, he is literally encapsulated within steel and is able to stand firm against the most viscious foes, despite his frail appearance.
Vassali harbors many secrets deep within him, among which are the fact that the plague had seemingly no affect on his mental states; he rose from the grave with the mind of a devout Alliance Paladin. It took him quite some time to become open to the Horde and the races which comprise it. To this day, he still considers himself "A human with a condition, and a changed mind," and is entirely opposed to being labeled as a "Forsaken." He is, however, quite understanding when others assume him to be loyal to the Banshee Queen. His loyalties are entirely to his clan, and only to a lesser extent, the Horde. He will defend his new home if the need arises, but his interest in carrying the war to the Alliance front is nearly non-existant; for somewhere in his heart, Stormwind is still his home.
Since his death, he has not slept. This is mostly due to his having horrid visions and dreams which he believed to be some sort of memory early on in his new 'life'. Combined with the fact that he had been dead for four years, and woke in a location entirely different than where he was buried alive, he has often wondered and feared what had occurred to him during that time. As yet, he has been content to simply ignore the entire matter. Regardless, he carries around a fear that he may have done harm, somehow. He is overly cautious as to how he affects other people, and sensitive to doing any further harm, as if to make amends for his fears.
The one facet of Vassali's existence which he has successfully kept hidden from even his closest clanmates and friends is the one attribute the plague robbed him of - his sense of touch. Since his awakening, he has been completely unable to feel tactile sensation, as if he was fully paralyzed, but still able to move. An inoperative nervous system can be helpful to his chosen occupation in life, being that he cannot feel pain. However, this one 'perk' far from outweighs the deep hole in his heart it creates; as he often feels as if he exists behind a glass wall, forever on the outside, sadly and longingly looking in.
Vassali de Gahl was born in the city of Stormwind, in Elwynn Forest.
As a boy he watched the great paladins of the city train and ride by proudly on their majestic steeds. He knew from his earliest days that he wanted to be just like them. He worked hard in his studies as he aged and there came a time where he too trained among the knights he held in such awe as a child within the Keep of Stormwind City. In his early twenty's, he graduated from his schoolings and was sent out to serve across Azeroth in the name of the Light. He dreamt of adventure and valor, of gaining honor and becoming one of the men he marveled at as a child.
But this was not to be.
After a few years serving under different banners and stations across the lands, his work was noticed. He was doing patrols with a small attachment in the Arathi Highlands when a courier reached him with a letter. It was a commission; an opportunity to serve among the renowned Scarlet Crusade. To him it was a bit more than a chance in his career...it was a chance to fufill his dreams. Not a month later he had arrived at the grand gates of the Scarlet Monestary in the vile Tirisfal Glades, lands soaked in the Scourge. For nearly a year he was posted in the Monestary, fighting the Scourge left and right. All seemed to be going well; he was moving up in the ranks of the Crusade, and was gaining esteem with his commanders. Then, things started to change.
Slowly, Vassali began to take notice of certain ongoings around him. The monotony of the spirit of his comrades, the bland callous will they each possessed. Sometimes, too callous. A number of times he had thought the Crusade's ways and methods too zealous, too harsh. Perhaps even wrong, on occaision. But he held his tongue, his pride willing him to silence. Until one day, he spotted a child no older than eight, bound in shackles amongst a batch of prisoners. He was huddled next to his mother, bound as well, and weeping. Vassali brought the matter immediately to his commander thinking there was some mistake, some error. He was informed that the child had been caught stealing a pumpkin from a nearby farm. That his evil must have a root in the Scourge, their plague. That he must be purged. That evil has no shape or size, nor age. The tears of the child's mother nearby were the last straw. When his commander noticed Vassali glance at her, he informed him that she must also! die, for it was her tainted womb which brought forth her son's evil habits. Purification was the only option.
Vassali did what he had been raised and trained to do. He had spotted injustice, he had stumbled across the oppressed. Thus, as any paladin should, he defended them. It was the act which should have defined his career as a knight of the Light. Instead, it was the act which ended it.
As skilled as he was, he could not fight off his once-comrades. He was subdued after only a short battle, at which point he threatened to report these ongoings back to Stormwind, to shed true light on the Crusade's nature. He had not yet fully grasped what the Crusade was capable of as he swore this, but soon learned. He was beaten, and stipped down bare. A steel plate was brought forth and excruciatingly nailed to his face to seal his mouth. He was deemed a traitor, a sympathizer to the Damned, and a carrier of the Scourge itself. Sentenced without debate or trial, Vassali was cast into a pit to spend his last dying hours with those he had sympathized with: The rotting bodies of the Scourge.
Then, suddenly, he woke.
He woke with new eyes to the world, in a crypt in southern Tirisfal. His strength had left him, he felt frail. In his heart he no longer felt ambition and pride, but now only regret and sorrow. His muscles had withered, his body had rotten, and the Holy energy that once filled him had dried up and become rage. And so, the great paladin of the Light had in the end become the thing he'd spent his life fighting against. He did not know how to live, what to do with himself. He had been forsaken, and now was Forsaken. The Alliance and their lies held no more sway with him. Yet, he could not trust the Horde, the enemy he'd known since childhood.
It was Ruarc who introduced him to a new family, and through them Vassali came to see that not everything was black and white, as he'd been taught and trained. Not just good and evil; there was more to life than just that. And so, having had to experience death to learn this, he slipped comfortably into a shade of grey.