Ricolne 'The Scarless' Blackwood

The origin story of Ricolne Blackwood.

Ricolne was born to a lesser noble family. His father was a coward, fearing battle and avoiding it all cost, and his reputation cost his family greatly. Ricolne witnessed his mother be ridiculed and rejected by other nobles, and this angered him greatly. This instilled in him a drive to become great unlike his father, and to redeem the blackwood name.

He acted out in his youth, often getting into fights with other noble boys and beating them soundly. He earned himself a repution, although a violent one. His mother tried to temper him, but he'd have none of it. He continued his fighting, easily being provoked when others would mention his father's cowardice or his less than noble name.

Things escalated when he beat a noble boy so badly that he was left with permenant scars on his face. Ricolne's father, desperate to not upset the nobles above him, beat his son and sent him to fight against the orcs in the second war, despite him only being 12 years old.

Ricolne was glad to be gone from his family and given a chance to prove himself. His youthful fighting had made him a decent fighter, and as he fought battle after battle he became only more skilled. Men in the army of Lordaeron began to call him Ricolne 'The Scarless', because no matter how many battles he fought he seemed to come out without a scratch every time. This reputation lead him to being promoted to a commander, where he continued to prove himself even more, leading many troops to victory without suffering much losses.

When the war was over, he returned to find his home in ruins, his leader Baron Garithos dead. The survivors gathered under the new Lord Othmar, but unfortunately for Ricolne his mother had been raped and killed by orcs as they tore through their home. His father was nowhere to be found, but the rumor was that he had fled as soon as the orcs came upon Blackwood, leaving his wife and Ricolne's mother and sister, Samantha, to their fate. Samantha survived, and Ricolne learned that she had a child, Cayene, who had been born out of wedlock to the new Lord Garithos. He ordered several of his men to protect his sister, and also to travel to where his niece was and to protect her as well.

Ricolne himself left Blackwood, no longer seeing a future for himself there. He went to Capitol city and sought more orders from the king.

There he served as a bodyguard, and it is there that he met Prince Arthas. Though the two did not know each other well, Arthas had heard how Ricolne had gained honor for himself despite his low noble birth. Admiring this, Arthas requested Ricolne as one of his many retainers, taking him away from the army for some time.

As a retainer, Ricolne was given more opportunity to perfect his swordsmanship, having access to the best sword trainers in Lordaeron. He also learned much from the Silver Hand, though he had little faith in the light after witnessing the horrors of the second war and the tremendous power of the dark orc warlocks.

Finally, after some time, he left with Arthas to fight blackrock orcs and was by his side during the events leading up to the Third War. Ricolne followed Arthas to Northrend, staying loyal to him throughout, even during the purge of Stratholme.

During the expedition, Ricolne and a group of soldiers got seperated during a battle with the scourge and were forced to retreat into the mountains of Northrend. Cut off from the main force, Ricolne and his allies had to survive in the pitiless cold of the great northern continent. They travelled hundreds of miles, men falling periodically to the elements. Finally, Ricolne remained as the sole survivor, his body wracked with hunger pains, his skin blackened by the icy wind.

Climbing to the peak of one of the mountains, he fell to his knees, looking over the cliffside and finally seeing the main camp off in the distance. He looked off with tired eyes, his cloak being whipped violently by the merciless wind. It was still miles and miles away, and his body had finally reached his limits. He felt glad that his allies had survived, and he assumed that Arthas had succeeded. He died as he was, on his knees, becoming a frozen statue of Northrend, gazing off into the southern sea.

It wasn't until two years later that he suddenly awoke. Wasn't he dead? He couldn't understand what was happening until a voice spoke to him in his mind.

"Awaken, warrior. Your king needs you in Icecrown. Quickly! Before all is lost!"

Ricolne stuck his sword into the ice, lifting himself to his feet, ice cracking and falling off of his body as he did so. His eyes opened, glowing with a pale blue light. His king was calling him, and he was never one to ignore a call to arms. He marched steadfastly, no longer feeling the pain of the cold or the fatigue in his body. He made his way to Icecrown, to join the now Death Knight Arthas in his ascent towards Icecrown Citadel.

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Years later, Ricolne was sent back to the plaguelands on orders from the Lich King. While he was there, he travelled to Blackwood to see what had become of his old home. His sister had died of disease, and her body was cremated and buried with his mother. While searching through his old home, he heard a rustling in the attic. He opened the attic door, pulling a person from it swiftly and throwing it hardly to the floor. He pointed his sword to the man's neck, who seemed strangely familiar.

"Ricolne! It is me, your father! How I am glad to see you again, it's been so long. You seem... Pale. Are you feeling alright, my son?"

Ricolne looked at him with his cold, glowing eyes.

"Ricolne, don't you recognize me? Do you... Blame me for your mother? Please my son, forgive me. There was nothing I could do. The orcs were coming. I tried to save her, but there was nothing I could do. They took her before I could do a thing."

Ricolne said nothing, keeping his sword poised to his father's throat, listening to his story. Ricolne's father looked at his son, and his eyes widened suddenly.

"What has happened to you?" He asked rather frantically. "Did you succumb to the plague? Are you still human?"

Ricolne said nothing.

"That matters not to me. you are my son, regardless. Here, help me up, let's get out of he- URGH!" He was silenced suddenly as Ricolne's sword pushed into his father's chest. Confusion came over his face first as blood pooled at the sides of his mouth, then his eyes widened with fear, then finally despair washed over them as tears formed at the corners. Finally he died, and Ricolne watched the entire time, looking down at his father with a silent fury behind his eyes, but otherwise expressionless. He stepped on his father and ripped his sword from the dead man's chest. He wiped the blood off of it and returned it to it's sheathe, then left his home, leaving his father to rot there.

He left Blackwood without looking back. Everything he had ever loved was lost, and all that remained was his honor and loyalty.

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Author's Note

Let me know what you think!

Reviews

[Bryad Polis Valentino]

Read this twice. Had to grasp it better.

Has many terms and names that remind of me Dark Souls series and Lordran, Lord of the lands. This made me dig it.

I like Lich King adversaries, they are classic, undead mages, ones who can be seen easily and clear villians.