Churchill

From RavenholdtWiki

Churchill R. Waul
Feline Necromancer
Guild	Cabal
Race	Feline
Class	Rogue
Faction	Horde
Profession(s)	Engineering
Age
Player	User:Churchill

"They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. I like to break windows and take what's inside."

[edit] Physical Description

A decrepit, disgustingly hollowed out corpse that doesn't seem to walk quite right. Its' eyes are empty, even of the eerie glow of normal Forsaken. Its' innards turned to dust years ago. Parts have even fallen off, only to be replaced, the lower jaw as evidence. The jaw hangs down at an odd angle, only barely moving in time with its' words when it does speak. The most notable thing about it is the way it walks. As though gravity holds no sway over it, its gait is bouncing, like the corpse is held up by the scruff of its neck as it walks. Its gestures are exaggerated and wide and the voice that comes from its mouth could not be described as appropriate.

It's constantly followed by a small black cat that eyes everything it does with an appraising glare. The kitten trails behind him, often pantomiming the motions the corpse takes, such as swinging at a foe, or mimicking the gestures it makes. The cats eyes take in all that occurs around it, as though seeing for the corpse. If you were to call the corpses name, the cat would turn to you, followed soon after by the undead.

[edit] History

Strangely enough, nothing is known about the corpse. The cat however, has a long and non-invasive history. Churchill is actually the name of the kitten, not the undead it seems to follow. Churchill was born to a wealthy cat family of nine, but even from birth he realized he was not destined to prey upon mice and purr as he lay in the sunlight. He had goals! Lofty ones! So at the tender age of 4 months, Churchill enrolled in the Scholomance School for Gifted Wizards and soon proved he was a capable necromancer.

Graduating at the ripe old age of 5, Churchill promptly had a midlife crisis. Here he was, a full fledged Feline Necromancer, but he had nothing special about him. Sure, in his off time, Churchill would experiment with the machinery of the school, slowly earning a rudimentary knowledge of engineering and physics. But Percyval Northwind, a classmate of his, had just graduated with him and was off to follow Kel'Thuzad, who was head of those spiffy Cults. He'd have to find his own niche. With that, he set off on a two year journey to discover everything possible about the animation of the dead, what caused their bodies to move and, if possible, ways to control them far more accurately than ever before seen.

After months of dedicated research, catnaps and many a night pondering over a tall ball of yarn, Churchill had a breakthrough. Scrounging up the first corpse he could find, he welded his iron feline will to the very bones of the rotten husk. In an all night ritual, Churchill bound each individual bone to him, mentally controlling them as though they were his own. The result? A perfect puppet, under his direct control, responding to his every whim and thought. Instead of a slightly feral mind, craving flesh and carnage, Churchill's zombie was utterly his, not a thought in its head. Occasionally he will physically make the motion he wishes the corpse to perform, even though this is unnecessary. When this occurs, it looks as though he's controlling a puppet, pulling invisible strings to get the desired results.

Churchill is not a modest creature. But even his egotistical mind can see the need for stealth. This is why he poses as the corpses pet, using his theatrical skills from the Scholomance Drama Club, Churchill throws his voice to make it appear as though the corpse is talking. This facade fails under even the most casual of inspections. He only does this when needed, most of the time he simply brings attention to himself, hoping to show off his necromantic skills.

But the normal instincts for a cat remain within him, his every waking moment a constant battle of wits and instinct. He slinks and sneaks, is easily distracted and this, unfortunately, carries over to the corpse he controls as well. His hunger for mice has long been shed, though the craving has grown with his appetite for necromantic knowledge. As such, he craves the feral hunt...but does not wish to waste the calories of the chase. Using his mechanical knowledge, Churchill is designing a great machine capable of turning living creatures into processed snacks. These "Alliance Burgers" are merely step one of his plan to gain an army of completely controlled zombies and one day march upon the mice kingdoms that infest the cities.