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Zanthier Beldane is a modest Forsaken medic working for The Apothecarium as part of the Research and Development branch.
Zanthier Beldane | |
---|---|
Dejected Doctor | |
Vital statistics | |
Gender | Male |
Race | Forsaken |
Faction | Horde |
Health | {{{health}}} |
Level | 61 |
Status | {{{status}}} |
Location | Brill |
Contents
Overview[]
Appearance[]
Zanthier is of an average build and height that you would expect of any human soldier, even if his muscles have slightly diminished. He stands straight and tall for the most part, though his shoulders do tend to roll forward in a slouch. More out of bashfulness than physical weakness. His fingers have taken on a more bony looking quality, though the increased slenderness gives them a long and almost elegant look. The rest of his body is almost always hidden beneath a collection of modest clothing, which are always kept clean and mended. He tends to wear a mixture of greys and browns, nothing extravagant or eye-catching, but extraordinarily normal. His hair, though pale and somewhat limp, is usually kept combed. A pair of spectacles are occasionally perched on the bridge of his nose, and without fail, a scarf is kept wrapped over the lower half of his face and about his neck. His entire appearance is terribly mundane, but also entirely human.
Personality[]
Like his appearance, Zane is rather bland and exceptionally mild. He hardly ever raises his voice, or objects. At first he tends to come across as somewhat sniveling, and cowardly. It is not however driven completely out of pacisfism, but out of the concern of losing a limb or two should he speak out. Being fairly new to undeath, he remains terribly concerned about decaying or otherwise injuring his rather intact state. Death has also granted him some insight and patient however, and he remains fairly amiable and forgiving in most cases. He remains painfully 'shy' as it were, terribly self conscious about his replacement jaw and lack of skin, even when taking steps to hide it.
The cruel, hateful streak that many Forsaken display tends to appall him, though he would never speak out about it. Loathe to speak his mind about his concerns, he also remains painfully secretive about certain aspects of his past.
Background[]
As a Human[]
As a human, Zanthier had a fairly uneventful life growing up in Tarren Mill. He studied under his uncle, who was a prestigious doctor in Lordaeron. Though he became fairly adept at traditional medicine himself, he was otherwise not terribly educated. Ignorance lead to stubbornness when presented with different people and situations. When the brother of his best friend, Darius, became romantically involved with a High Elf woman, tensions rose, as said friend was no more forgiving. When the pair became engaged, things started to fall apart. Soon after the two were married, the plague spread throughout Lordaeron, and the Scourge became a new enemy. Zanthier and his like-minded comrade joined the equally xenophobic Scarlet Crusade, and in a fit of frustration, Darius killed his own brother, causing the High Elf to flee in turn. With no other attachments to the 'outside world', the pair became engrossed in their duties as crusaders. Though Zane trained in becoming a paladin, he never made it to be recognized as a master, usually stuck serving as a field medic and occasionally as a foot soldier.
His death was less than glorious. Having fallen ill was no excuse not to be on the battle field. Though pale and weak, he continued his duties as a medic. While tending to a fallen soldier, it would seem that someone mistook him for a Scourge by his pale complexion and the blood on his hands and face (from tending his fallen brethren!) Looking up at a shout, Zane had only a moment to realize what was happening as a wicked mace was being swung into his face.
As a Forsaken[]
While the transition to undeath is not a topic Zane openly discusses, it most certainly occurred. After dealing with the initial mixture of panic and rage upon waking in the midst of a Forsaken settlement, Zane came to realize that he was in fact one of them. And then that it wasn't a nightmare, or at least, not one he was going to wake up from anytime soon by pinching himself. He was appalled by the state he found himself in, despite being far better off than many Forsaken. The death blow had shattered his lower jaw beyond repair, so that it could only be removed as an improvement. In his early delirium, the locals had seen fit to fix him up with a jaw made of metal. Though it allowed him the ability to speak almost perfectly, and to eat or drink should he desire, the ex-paladin found it horrific to look at. Death had not robbed him of his memories, nor of his taste! In severe embarrassment, he took to wearing a heavy scarf that he would wrap over the lower half of his face, feeling it looked less conspicuous than a mask. In another vain effort, he took to wearing a pair of glasses. Not because his eyes had failed him, but because it seemed to give him a more 'human' look. He hid himself away in Brill. It was close enough to the main city should their ever be an emergency, but it seemed less frightening, still holding some familiar touches. He would not speak to anyone, and spent much time out in the safer portions of the woods, taking long walks while trying to rationalize what had happened. He realized how the Crusade was wrong, and became certain that the Light had forsaken him for his crimes as a Crusader. He also pondered... how could he redeem himself? Would the Light turn him back...?
Fitting In[]
Staring forlornly at the inn one morning, Zane was shaken by a small impact. Looking up from his reverie, he saw a Sin'Dorei crouched on the mailbox nearby. Uncertain what had transpired, he waited a moment to see if the Elf would explain himself. Instead, the strange pointy eared one threw another pebble at him. In terror that it was a xenophobic hatemongerer, Zane did the only thing he could think of, which was to run in terror. The Elf chased after him, obviously surprised by this reaction. After a short conversation, the situation was cleared of any hard feelings. The Elf was apparently working as a lumberjack in Tirisfal Glades, and was quite open-minded towards the Forsaken. As the only person to show interest or friendliness, Zane couldn't help but to explain his fearfulness and woes. Though Zane was but a stranger to the Elf, he still took it upon himself to comfort the awkward Forsaken. Zane and 'Harry' became steadfast, though odd, friends.
In an attempt to be 'social', Zane dragged 'Harry' to the Hallow's End celebration in the Undercity, which was hosted by a section of the Royal Apothecaries.
Involvement[]
Zanthier only recently became involved with the Apothecarium. Being 'recently' risen, and somewhat awkward, he has no other true contacts or associations. Having heard rumors that the Apothecaries were searching for a cure to undeath, he became intrigued and intent on seeking them out to aid. The rest, as they say, is history.
Strategy[]
As a former paladin and soldier, and only recently dead, Zane's muscles remain rather present and usable. However, he has kept away from physical matters, afraid of injuring what remains intact. One hardly needs tactics for fighting this flighty Forsaken. He's more likely to flee a worthy opponent, preferring to stay at the back, where he can tend to others. One simply needs to engage him directly to win.
Other Info[]
What I'd consider to be Zane's 'theme song'. Also, I would say it is a good example of Zane's voice as well. (If he could sing. Which I'm not sure he can.) So please have a listen!
"Once my life was plain and clear
I recall once my ignorance was bliss
Nightfall came like a serpent's kiss
To my troubled mind
Why, oh why, my god
Have you abandoned me
In my sobriety
Behind the old facade
I'm your bewildered child
So take me across the river wide
Binding promises were made on my soul
Grand illusions led astray
Ice cold winds swept my heart away
Bring me back to you
Why, oh why, my god above
Have you abandoned me
In my sobriety
Behind the old facade
I'm your bewildered child
So take me across the river wide"