Name: Dregnon

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Surname: Brackett

Title/Nickname: You can just call me Dregnon.

Race: Forsaken

Class: Warlock/ Necromancer

Age: 36 (counting the undeath years)

Appearance:Dregnon is a classy Forsaken, well.. He tries to give off the appearance of a grandfather/ respectable gentlemen depending on the situation. He will spend weeks tailoring his own clothes, mainly finding the supplies, its so hard to trade when you look like a Scourge.

Alignment: ....Chaotic Neutral....

Psychology: Like most Forsaken Dregnon is stubborn, and determined. Like most Forsaken life in Undeath has left him void of most feelings, such as love and all that butterflies in the stomach feelings. Aside from this Dregnon can be very gentlemen-like, and courteous. Though, whats on the exterior is very different from the interior, his gentlemen attitude is just a facade for his real feelings, he is always looking to further his own cause in every situation, and unless it benefits him, he casts off the person or situation with a wave of his hand. Recently, Dregnon has gone insane from the many pressures closing in on him. While he has gone from a more logical standpoint to a more radical standpoint he is quite dangerous, and should not be trusted at any costs. While more reckless he still takes the time to think about things, he just doesn't try to predict the outcome.

Birthplace: He was born in the stables of Agamand Mills.

Actual residence: At the moment a Floating Rock in the sky, but he still travels a lot, never staying in one place to long to get anything done really.

Background: Dregnon was born in the stables belonging to the Agamand family, which around the time were becoming the richest family in the Lordaeron area. He was a bastard child of the Agamand the Father assumed to be Devlin Agamand, the one who ended up betraying the Family to the Lich King. For twenty years, Dregnon's mother was able to keep his birth and parents a secret, then the feud between the Agamand brothers began...

Each were trying to find dirt on the other, Devlin knew if Dregnon's true identity was discovered and it was told around Lordaeron that the firstborn of the Agamands was going around getting simple peasants knocked up, then the family would be the laughingstock of Lordaeron. Devlin did what he called the most logical, thing. He was simply going to kill Dregnon. Which.. Didn't sound fun to Dregnon...

Dregnon at the time would be a simple stable boy, would be in the stables believe it or not, tending to the horses, when a friend of Dregnons whom was Devlin's personal 'helper', told of the plot to kill him. Dregnon would laugh and shrug it off. Then Devlin himself walked in and said he was going to kill Dregnon right there. Dregnon would blink before throwing a bucket at Devlin, which made contact with his gut, Dregnon would take the chance and run out of the stable and run away from Agamand taking nothing. Just running. Like a coward.

He would make it to Brill. The year was 20, on the king's calendar it would be around 612. It was in Brill Dregnon would change his name to.. Well Dregnon, and his apperance, he grew his hair out and had a rather large beard, visiting Dwarves would be impressed. For five years Dregnon lived on the streets of this small town, occasionally he would see people from Agamand Mills friends and his mother, he would speak to them through begging, and they would simply push him away.

Anyways Dregnon. Hobo. Yeah. Lets fast foward to a better part.

The year 25, Arthas would be visiting shortly, or so said the rumor mill. Dregnon would be leaning aganist a gypsy wagon, talking amongst the others his age, when a man hurried past, he was in such a hurry that he tripped causing the crate in his hand to fly out and spilling the contents, which included a few empty vials and papers. Dregnon went to help the man, as he was hoping for some change in return, the man would try to push him away, Dregnon used to this reaction would cast it off and continue to help when the man got enraged, he was pale, but slowly turning red with anger. He pushed Dregnon away and quickly packed things back into his box and would run off. Dregnon would shrug and go back to his conversation with the Gypsies, who told him they were headed to Southshore in Hillsbrad, tired of the Brill scene he asked if he could tag along. The gypsies not really wanting to add any outsiders to their caravan discussed it for a few hours before finally agreeing, but they were not taking him any farther then Southshore. He just shrugged and within a month he was in Southshore. He waved by to his new friends and he parted ways with the caravan.

After a few days of begging for more money, he was rather missing Brill, he was leaning aganist a railing in the middle of Southshore when he wished a piece of his past would land in front of him. He opened his eyes and saw a very familiar figure striding towards the outskirts of the city. Dregnon noticed he had gotten some sun finally, but he looked slighty thinner. Bored he decided to follow the man. The strange fellow walked, and walked, and walked. Until finally reaching a crossroad he stopped and waited, and waited, and waited. Until another figure walks from the Direction where Tarren Mill would be. Dregnon got closer and followed them, hearing the following:

Kel'Thuzad says: Keep your voice down, Helcular. Strangers abound... Helcular nods. Helcular says: So you can teach me this...this... Kel'Thuzad says: Necromancy. It is called necromancy. And yes, I have it within my power to bless you with this gift. Helcular says: And the Kirin Tor? What have they to say of necromancy? Kel'Thuzad says: That is none of your concern, Helcular, as you are neither Kirin Tor nor a necromancer. Kel'Thuzad says: But to be perfectly frank, I do not give a damn what the Kirin Tor think! They are fools, set in their archaic ways. Helcular says: Then teach me, Kel'Thuzad. Teach me everything you know... Kel'Thuzad nods. Kel'Thuzad says: In due time, Helcular... All in due time...

Frankly Dregnon was shocked, he had heard whisperings of the Dark magic but it was illegal, and here were these two men speaking openly about it. Dregnon then had a choice. He could turn these two in, and possibly earn some money. Or. He could get in on this.

Dregnon would head back to Southshore when the ground around him turned to ice and his feet were locked in place, as he fell he caught a glimpse of two men running up to him before his head hit the ground knocking him out.

He would wake up on a cart, an odd smell filled his nostrils that caused him to cough and gag. In front of him walked the stranger, that met with the man from Brill. Pulling the cart were two fellows clothed in black robes, they were very pale and thin and smelled wretched. The man would look back at Dregnon and grin before slowing down so that he could walk alongside the cart, Dregnon was paralyzed as the man explained they drugged him so he wouldn't run off. He also explained that he had been chosen for greater things and that they were headed towards Caer Darrow. Dregnon would notice as the man talked, the more he came to like him. He had a.. Casual gentlemen like appearance, something that Dregnon would learn to use in the future. The man would grin as Dregnon tried to speak and drool simply poured from his mouth, before blacking out again.

Dregnon would awake a searing hot poker jabbing at his ribs held by one of the black clothed figures his face was brunched up in hatred. Dregnon would yelp as he was ushered into a room full of people, smelly people was his first thought, but then again he didn't smell so well either. There was a women next to him, she looked scared, she wasn't the most pretty girl he thought, but he also wanted to comfort her. He touched her shoulder and she immediatly fell into his arms. Dregnon would act suprised but then turn to the guy next to him who was staring akwardly, "Even in a prison I've got the touch." A blacked clothed figure would part Dregnon and the girl growling. A voice would echo the hall, it asked, "Those who want to go home you can exit through the front here." Dregnon shrugged and began walking when he was pulled back by the man who brought him here shaking his head, the girl kept walking as well as a few others. The figure who told them to leave simply watched with a disgraced look, Once the room was clear of people who wanted home, screams could be hear and the snapping of bones echoed the room. Dregnon cringed and began to panic as well as a few others. Across from Dregnon he would notice a man huddled in the corner his head in his lap, Dregnon and that fellow would become best friends in the future... Much to the dismay of said man.

The Man looked at the few still left a proud grin on his face, "you have all been chosen to serve a new master, one who will bring you riches and power. Welcome to Scholomance, here you have been intiated into the Cult of the Damned!" Dregnon would cough loudly and a few glares would be cast at him before the room was cleared. In the next room Dregnon was forced to drink something, he would strike out at the person feeding him, only to have everything go black again..

.....The next few years flew by like a dream. Dregnon would be isolated with the man who he came to know as Helcular, trained by Kel'thuzad himself, Dregnon was basically receiving the washed down stuff straight from the leader of CoD himself. One day Helcular had to return back to Hillsbrad to oversee the Cult of the Damned forces there, Dregnon would accompany him to continue training. The only person he said bye too was the man known as Jaquio who was training to become a Warlock, Necromancy must have been a mute topic for him. The world outside the school was a whole new thing for Dregnon. It had changed, Lordaeron had become overridden with death. Undead shambled through once proud establishments. While in the Scholomance, Dregnon's personality and outlook on things had been brainwashed and changed forever, instead of feeling sorrow for the once proud Kingdom, he simply laughed at the misery that Lordaeron had crumbled too. When he heard of Agamand Mill's fate, he would simply cast it off his mind, the place forgotten to him. When Helcular and Dregnon arrived in Hillsbrad they set up shop in an abandoned cave, where Helcular begin to work on something so secret that he wouldn't share it with Dregnon. Angered by this, Dregnon went into the town, he also forgot the way he looked.. He was pale and skinny, he smelled of death and the towns people tied him to a stake outside the city and questioned him. He had under gone the most worst types of torture possibly imagined in that school, so a few threats didn't bother him. Finally they simply all left him there to be eaten by the wildlife. They sent mobs out until they found the cave, it was in there Helcular was becoming a Lich, when he was.. Lynched. His body was still given a burial in Southshore's graveyard and the citizen's went on with their lives believing the threat gone. Cultists found Dregnon and eventually untied him. They were.. Not happy with his failure. He was simply killed in Caer Darrow and was later ressurected by a Necromancer..

Skip forward a year!!

Sylvanas does her thing and Dregnon was one of the few able to follow her. He did all the retaking and stuff finally arriving, in the Undercity, Sylvanas and the other Forsaken leaders were doing a census of sorts giving each Forsaken a duty. Dregnon told them his skill, and he recieved yet more disgust and was Forsaken by the Forsaken. While his profession was not spread, he still felt betrayed, but yet after having no success in finding a safe home in the wilderness of Tirisfal he decided to set up shop in Brill's basement acting like he was a part of the newly established Royal Apothecary Society.

For seven years he practiced his trade going from Tarren Mill to Deathknell. He ignored the petty fights in Northrend and the Outlands, he had no care for. Without any restrictions to his art he was able to practice as he pleased, by the time the battle of Ice Crown Citadel ended in a stalemate, Dregnon was known by Sylvanas and was considered a threat to the Forsaken populace. But Sylvanas needed some help outside of the Apothecary now that Orcs watched their every move. So she kidnapped Dregnon and the small group he had become friends with, and forced them to make her plague or, actually die for good. For the next two years Dregnon worked with his group to do this. Until finally getting somewhere, his demonsration a success. His team unfortunatly was sent away to the far corners of the world to study. It was wandering in Brill when he came across Jaquio again, he had become a powerful Warlock and wasn't on the greatest of terms with the Banshee Queen. But he had a plan, a scheme he had been working on for months. Together they worked and worked until they built their own Necropolis.. Of course Sylvanas didn't know, but the Scourge in Deatholme sure as heck did.

It was some time later Dregnon failed in a test run of his plague.. Sylvanas was next to another Forsaken, Dregnon only knew him because of his standing in the RAS. He was Richard, Dregnon would soon come to hate his guts very very soon. A few conversations later, Dregnon and Jaquio are leaders of a resistance against the Forsaken people, because Richard had brainwashed the people.

Skip foward a few petty fights and meetings and Dregnon is in the Undercity being thrown into a portal. This was rather a bad situation Dregnon would think as he blacked out. Awaking surrounded by Fel goop and weird beasts. After walking a few miles a Demon would appear in front of Dregnon. Together they struck a deal. In return for getting them both out of here, dregnon would allow himself to host the demon. The already insane Dregnon now wanting blood is currently in Hillsbrad undercover.