"Most folks have to choose between gettin' busy livin', or gettin' busy dyin'. We do a bit o' both."
The Progenitor
Name: Redamous
Nicknames: Red
Gender: Male
Race: Worgen
Status: Undead, Death Knight
Age: Thirties
Family: Nicole Malcolm(Deceased), Sara Malcolm(Deceased), Ben Malcolm(Deceased)
Position: Current General of the 1113th Reformed Scourge Regiment/Brigade/Irregulars, AKA "The Knights of Menethil"
Titles: Private(former), Corporal(former), Sergeant(former), Captain(former), Major(former), Colonel(former), General(present)
Aliases: None
Appearance: Red carries most of the traits associated with his kind, that being those of a large hulking wolf creature. Undeath has made his fear somewhere between a black and blue shade, and he stands tall even in comparison to other Worgen. His left ear is half the size of his right, with the torn appearance giving the impression that such is not a natural occurrence. He is almost always adorned in standard issue Saronite armor, noticeably lacking any sort of pauldrons or a cloak as some prefer to wear. A black and white tabard with an image of a skull to represent his unit covers this. A metal chain hangs around his neck, two rings intertwined on it. A worn leather had rests at all times on his head, holes cut in it near the sides to allow his ears room to poke out.
Biography: Nathan Malcolm, a name Redamous would have long forgotten upon being pulled back into the world of the living, was born to an average farming family a few short years prior to the raising of the Greymane Wall.
Years of growing up in such an environment would leave him longing for adventure, which would be the main factor in his joining the King's Army, being trained as a basic combatant and stand-by medic.
During a civil uprising that was a predecessor to the Northgate Rebellion, he would become separated from his squad, spending the night under a bridge to hide from passing rebels. The following morning while attempting to return home, he would cross paths with three rebels in a cramped alley, all three of them letting out loud cries. After a long scuffle, he would be the last man standing, only to find out that they had been celebrating a ceasefire.
The powers that be would take some pity on Nathan, foregoing sentencing him to prison and instead putting him to work on an estate as a servant. The next few years of his life would pass by here, before the day came where his sentence was up.
Upon returning to the city, he was met with awkward glances and hate-filled glares. While many who had remained loyal to Greymane could sympathize with his troubles, others saw him as a cold-blooded murderer, which was not made any better by the popularity of those whose lives he had ended, rebels or not.
Out of a crowd of many, one woman would show concern and compassion, offering him a place to rest his head and food while he found his way back into the swing of things out in the 'real' world again. This woman, Nicole Brenner, would eventually end up being his wife. The two would leave the city to settle on Nathan's parent's land, as they had decided the time for retirement had finally come.
Years would pass as the two's lives became filled with others. Only a dog, at first, before they were joined by two children, the first of which was Sara followed by the second, Ben. As the years passed, another thing would begin slipping into Nathan's life, more and more. Alcohol.
At first something of a social drinker, before reaching the point of being easily classified as an alcoholic, the habit would create tension between the man and his wife, until things came to a head with an argument that would involve their children being woken in the night to their parent's screaming, and ending with the majority of the family in tears. The following day, Nathan would take a walk through a forest to collect his thoughts. It was here that he would encounter a Worgen, getting into a drawn out struggle that resulted in his victory.
That night he would return home, happy to be alive. By the next morning he awoke his family around him, dead. With the locals stirring to see what the commotion was about, he fled, eventually joining up with a pack of feral Worgen as his mind slipped off to some dark corner of his head. Weeks later he would find his own end at the point of a guard's pike.
His body would be found by geists sent on a scouting mission behind the Wall on behalf of the Lich King, bringing back the Worgen to bolster the Scourge's already growing numbers. Pushed alongside those being brought in from Arugal's Wolfcult, it was almost impossible to tell the Gilnean from everyone else.
After many of the Lich King's Death Knights broke away from the Scourge, forming the Knights of the Ebon Blade, the Worgen found flashes of his life finally breaking into his mind as he regained something of himself. One of the few things he seemed to be lacking was a proper name. Finding no one to give him one, he began referring to himself as Redamous, a crude and twisted take on the word 'redemption' in his mind.
Redamous would do as the other Knights would and venture northward to pursue and put an end to the Lich King, becoming paired alongside a small group consisting of other Knights, among them varying races of the world. Looked down upon by his leading officer, he was reported to the Ebon Blade's command upon said officer's realization that he was a Worgen, which had thus far caused nothing but trouble on the eastern side of Northrend in the Grizzly Hills.
Those in command initially showed no signs of concern, but upon risking a potential outbreak of some sort, designated that the entire squadron be removed as to not cause anymore trouble. Hiring a living hunter with a vendetta against a Worgen, said hunter proceeded to defeat and return most of the Knights to death, before his defeat at the hands of a human and an elf. While the rest of the Blade continued on with their mission, those that remained decided that their time was best spent elsewhere.
Redamous would end up travelling south from the Ebon Hold, eventually finding himself in the Swamp of Sorrows where he would have an encounter with a band of highwaymen. Among them was one knowledgeable in druidic methods, who managed to lull him into a sleep. He would awaken days later to find that before they had even had the chance to go near him, a Draenei huntress had rescued him, managing to drag him back to her home. His next few weeks were spent in Outland with the Draenei and her young daughter.
The time eventually came, though, when he left, upon hearing of the Cataclysm, and the return of Gilneas to the Alliance. Taking the opportunity to return home, he recovered a few trinkets, among them a few old, long forgotten rings, and a hat which he had received as a present years before.
Near the end of the campaign against Deathwing and his cultists, Redamous would join the 1113th, or the Knights of Menethil, a unit of the Ebon Blade sworn to the Alliance. Over the next few years he would be a part of many of their exploits during that span of time, ranging from recovering brains and dealing with plagues, to situations where his commanding officers had the delusion of life.
All through that time he would slowly work his way up the ranks, despite attempts against such. Eventually he would find himself at the head of it following the forced changing of positions, or in one case retirement, of his superiors.
Personality: To many, Red appears calm, collect, and controlled. This, combined with a sarcastic, if dry, sense of humor makes him a bit easier to get along with when it comes to the living at times, though there are many occasions where others would be preferred for diplomacy. He maintains his sarcasm at almost all times, even in situations of tension. He can become serious when the situation calls for it, as well as being gentler or calmer than some others among the ranks of the Ebon Blade. If pushed far enough, though, any sign of calm can be replaced with nothing short of bloodlust for those who may be making threats to those around him.
While he generally shows some semblance of understanding for the living's distrust of his kind, he is far from immune to being disgusted by their actions and behaviors, and tends to prefer the company of the damned. Even then he can find those which he cannot stand.
Compared to his predecessors, his leadership style is lax, and he is far more personal rather than professional with those under him. Engaging them in casual conversation as well as referring to them by name over rank, this has gained him criticism from those above him, as well as less direct respect from those under him at times. When needed, he has shown the ability to press people into line, and intimidate should there be need.
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