Vexos

Vexos is currently an agent and sub-officer in The Family, also known by few as Blackthorne. Although there is no official name for Blackthorne, they much prefer the more subtle name of their infamous nickname, The Family. Due to the name, one could already guess that this organization is a crime family, hence the nickname. This guild is run from an unknown local and houses many criminals and mobsters, all under the leadership of Renault Blackthorne and Daxterion Sinclair. He is known through the cities of Stormwind to be the shadow of Daxterion Sinclair, his boss and supervisor. Although not legendary, the whispers of his skills in hand-to-hand combat is one highly admired. His swordsmanship is nothing to sneeze at either. Vexos is known to constantly be on the move, doing various jobs and recruitment for his organization, mainly found in the Mage District of Stormwind.

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Vexos could be described as a tall human, but very thin with an athletic tone. This would signify he is very light on his feet even in leather. His figure would impose at a 6 foot 6 height, his body weight at a keen 175 pounds. He trains himself every day he's not loitering around in the city for a new contract. Vexos' speech pattern is noted as a very smooth monotone, a perfect fit for his silver tongue he uses to manipulate people. A useful tactic he worked on for quite a while.

None have been very lucky in catching a glimpse of Vexos' face. The only thing they usually see are the two red eyes his helmet wears. Seen without his mask, which is rare, would reveal his face to have a very pointed chin, thin pale lips, matching equally pale skin. His hair would be fairly well kept in good condition, white  hair covering the top of his head. The hair was very short, as not to catch on anything inside the mask. The hair is white due to so much stress he was under during his tortuous training when he was a child.

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Vexos now has an even newer look, from his old leather set to a new set. He says new, but to be honest, this armor has been seen many different times. Starting from the hood, the mask was real ornamented bone plastered over as to not grow brittle. It is bolted down to a steel under-helmet, which gives his head most protection. On the right side of the mask, a large slash mark chipped through the bone from the top of the eye to the bottom of the cheek. Under the helmet, he has the scar on his face, going over his eye, yet it did no damage to the eye itself. Only scratched the surface of his face. His shoulder pads have several throwing knives inserted into it, and still has the same toxic gas installed inside of them as his other shoulder pads did. They will activate on a whim. All his other armor is as it appears. Though, there are several bags on his belt and on his chest, all black and filled with various items such as: blinding powder, throwing kunai with different things attached to them and misc. items. He also has two truesilver daggers in sheathes behind his cloak, as to prove a surprise against any magic users. ((Basically, the Deathmantle set in-game is how his armor is seen. ))

Small bags adorn Vexos' leggings and chest. One on the right side holds blinding powder, made from dust, glass, salt, and other nasty artifacts. The other bags on his chest contain throwing kunai, weighted throwing knives. Some are just regular, some have explosives attached, and some have smoke bombs attached. A useful piece of equipment, these kunai are multi task objects. A holster behind Vexos' back holds anti-venom syringes, being affiliated with poisons himself, in case his poisons back fire.

Vexos' two daggers at his side are actually very unusual. They are made from purified saronite, a very strong material usually used by Death Knights in their armor. His are purified, though, so they will not cause the insanity as regular saronite will to mortals. His kunai are made of mithril, and the daggers behind his cloak, as mentioned before, are made of truesilver.

Vexos also has two new swords. They are purple, which is enchanted mithril, and silvery around the blades, which is Thorium. These blades are not normal, however. They were enchanted by a Warlock to have special powers. One being they each have their own personality granted by a sentience enchantment. They can talk, and even have their own mouths. Speaking of the mouths, they have abnormally strong teeth that can crunch through steel, the mouths inside enchanted to lead to a personal void storage so he can put things inside and take them out any time he wants. Zekiel, his right sword, has a high-pitched voice, while Zarow, his left sword, has a low-pitched goblin voice.

Has runes on his body, such as a Rune of Striking, Rune of Awareness, and Rune of Toughness. The first grants up to ten times the amount of normal strength, allowing him almost inhumane amounts of agility, strength, and speed. The awareness provides an advanced awareness, allowing his senses to be extraordinarily heightened, allowing all of his seven senses. Yes, seven. It not only amplifies his sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste, but also amplifies his senses so that he can actually feel two more: sense of balance and sense of proprioception, which is the intuitive sense of space and position. Lastly, the toughness makes his skin tougher and harder to damage. This reduces damage from being cut, beaten, and bruised. Almost as if he has a small shell around his skin. Also has a worn out Mark of the Leviathan on his upper left bicep, a small black skull with dim blue eyes.

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His personality is a very curious one to describe. Sometimes, he is only focused on the mission at hand and nothing else. Sometimes, he is easy to talk to and loves interaction from people. His personality changes on a whim; one he doesn't really control. He doesn't even notice the change in his attitude, simply acting as if this was the way he always acted. Though, these days, he is usually more of his dehumanized self that only lives to succeed at the missions he is given to prove himself as an assassin. His limbo between these two modes also acts to confuse people so they can never predict him. This tactic has worked quite well in akimbo with his silver tongue, as well. One moment, he could sell the most worthless plot of land to an old scrooge, the next moment he could flip his blades out and kill him in the name of the mission.

This new personality Vexos dawns usually has him keep his hood on at all times. Not like he would taken it off beforehand, but still. He is even more of a social outcast.

Though, sometimes, on a rare occasion, he sees one of his friends and loosens the 'professional' attitude and relaxes with them.

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"It's a boy! A bright, bouncing boy!"

As new light greeted the small child, his Father was nowhere to be seen. What one would expect to be a smiling doctor... was replaced with that of a blood-soaked man in a white apron with a mask on. He walked over to a nearby bucket, rinsing some form of bloody tools off inside of it as the baby cried. Chuckling, the man clicked his tongue as he stood back up, shiny black boots slapping against the cold stone while we walked back to the operating table.

"Shh...sh... it's going to be fine, alright? Your Daddy had to step out for a minute. He will be back just in time, don't you worry."

Despite the reassuring words from this strange man, the baby kept crying and crying. The man sighed as he placed the baby in a small blanket after washing him, walking back to the bucket and cleaning his bloody tools.

Now, then. Let's paint the scene in a different light.

This was no 'Doctor office'. This was a bloody cave full of rotting corpses and-- one of them including this young boy's new Mother. Her throat was cut open as her pale eyes fixated on the ceiling, her mouth gaped wide with constant shock and pain. The Father? He ran. Fled away from his pregnant wife and soon-to-be son. In all actuality, this had been an abduction. This Doctor was no Doctor at all. He was a murderer. A killer without a cause, and as such, he took the wife. Though, he did not expect her to be pregnant, of course. Despite this insane man's intentions, he helped birth this little boy from his still warm corpse of a Mother, cutting her woman parts open to grasp at the boy and free him. Yet, by no means was this boy safe. Not at all. The strange man took off his mask and smiled at the baby, still crying.

"Now, then. I always wanted a son. I'll name you William. William Wright."

Growing up, William never really got a chance to enjoy the normal life. Constantly on the run with his killer of a Father, he was raised to think death was just a natural ordeal. The screaming victims Daddy brought home? Just insects. Bugs. They had to die because they were weak enough to get caught. This is how it went for five long, long years. Until... they came. Men in black stormed the cave, wrapping his newly found Father in a burlap bag. As they left, one man without a mask entered the building. He wasn't in black. He looked... normal. Like a bug. When the man came forward and tried to talk to William, he screamed.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU DAMNED INSECT!"

The man sighed as he wrote something down. As soon as the pencil was lifted from the paper, he struck out at the boy and knocked him unconscious. Was this the SI:7, one may ask? No. Far from it. They, too, were killers. They didn't want the competition of William's Father, so they took him back to their headquarters and executed him in front of the child. After that, it was all down hill. They chained him to a chair and left him in a basement with their lead torturer. He constantly licked his lips and cracked his knuckles, enjoying every moment of the torture. He would beat the boy, drive hot nails into his skin, and other horrible things that shall be spared due to... discretion. For five more long years, this happened. All the while, the SI:7 slowly encroached upon this settlement of killers and criminals. Slowly, they began to pick them off until the camp was safe to enter. When they went downstairs, they saw a trail of blood from the stairwell down to the center of the dark room. What they saw was a small boy in rags, white hair stained with red as he ripped apart the man who tortured him for so many years. After all those years, he was finally able to break loose from his chains and destroy the man who caused him so much pain. The agents couldn't believe what they were seeing. Quickly, they attempted to restrain the boy and dragged him back to their headquarters while he was screaming at the top of his lungs all the way there. His mind? Broken. His body? Tormented. His spirit? Who can say?

-
After that day, the SI:7 did a mental stability check on this young boy. The tests did in fact report that he was mentally insane. So, they did the only thing they could. They locked him up and threw away the key. Tossing a small boy into a padded room is one thing, but to leave him there for so long without help was another. They left him there for six long weeks, with barely enough bread and water to keep his body moving. One day, though, an agent walked into his cell. This was a man only known as The Psychiatrist. He helped mentally insane people like this all the time, yet never one so young. Walking forward, he reached out to the boy and felt his cold skin. The boy was crying.

"I... I don't want to hurt anyone anymore... I don't want to... hurt anymore. My head... my head hurts! SOMEONE PLEASE, HELP ME!"

After a while, this new man sat down with the boy. He asked him what his name was. What his purpose in this world was.

"William Wright. I have no purpose other than to hurt and be hurt. I just... want to go home. Please..."

Settling his mind, the man decided to help this boy piece back his sanity. One by one.

After almost seven years of therapy, the Psychiatrist deemed him to be mentally sane. For the first time in those years, William stood in the sunlight and felt the breeze on his skin. Yet, when he was told he could leave, he stood still.

"Why do you not go? You can live your own life now."

William shook his head slowly.

"I don't wanna' go... I wanna' help people now. To make sure they don't... become like me. Become a monster."

With another few years training, William grew up into a fine young man and joined the ranks of the SI:7. There, he was sent on many, many tasks. Until, of course, one specific one. One so specific it changed his life forever.

The hunt. For an Elf called Vexos.

He hunted for days. Weeks. Even months on end for this Elf. He had to prove to his superiors that he was ready and able to become a junior officer of the SI:7. This was his ranking up mission. The big one. As he gathered his joint task force together, they set out to find this Elf and kill him. There were no orders to bring him back alive. Only to track he and his group down and eliminate them.

Well, they did find him. Outside the bounds of Stormwind, on a desolate plain. Charred earth crackled under their feet as they slid down a mountain slide, ready to surprise the Elf. He had no idea they were there. As they gathered around the elf, one popped out of stealth and instantly went in for a kill shot. Suddenly, the form the one agent assaulted warped violently with shadow energy as it became transparent. A shadow reflection! Inside the reflection was a small round object. As William suddenly knew what it was, he couldn't tell the others to get away quick enough. His entire party was engulfed in a plum of fire and smoke as the bomb inside the shadow reflection exploded. It killed some instantly, and was a slow death for others. Somehow, William was only slightly injured. As he stood up, he brushed the ashes off himself when he suddenly realized that there was blood all over his body. His comrades died right next to him and covered him head to toe in crimson blood. Suddenly, something inside him triggered. Old, repressed memories of his past. And... his Father. As clear as perfect sound, he could have sworn he imagined laughter. His Father's laughter. Snapping out of it, he came to the realization that it was the Elf in front of him, daggers out, with intent to kill. The laughter was coming straight from his mouth. After murdering all these people, all his friends, he could laugh. Just like a murderer. Just like Father.

"Just... like me..."

Licking his lips, he tasted the warm copper blood under his nose as he grinned. William grinned a grin that could have sent fear into any man's heart, taking the two standard issue daggers from their sheathes at his sides. The Elf and William collided in a flurry of clashing steel, assassin against assassin. Monster against monster. Until, suddenly, William did the only thing he could think of to get an advantage against such an equally skilled enemy. He threw a smoke bomb down on the ground and took his mask off, tying it to the hilt of one of his daggers like a parachute. With extreme precision, he threw the dagger with the billowing mask parachute through the smoke to make it seem like himself was the one moving through it. The Elf fell for it, propelling himself toward the dagger and striking out, yet finding only empty air. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, it was over. A glistening dagger found itself stuck in the side of the Elf's neck. Instantly, he collapsed to the ground, yet he still was not satisfied. Beckoning William over, he grabbed his ankle and forced him to the ground next to him on his knees.

"Listen to me... little pink skin. Listen well. What you do for the SI:7... what you do for the King... is futile. The real evil is this kingdom of Stormwind, forcing those in Westfall and the like to go homeless and starving while they build themselves... statues in front of their castles. What I do... is true good. For the people, and for those that would stand against such an unfair government. Listen to ME BOY."

The Elf grasped at the William's chest piece and lowered him down so he was in front of the Elf's face.

"My name.. is Vexos Flame-talon. I fight for the people. Against those that would wish us to die in the gutter. All the orphaned children, all the oppressed citizens. What of them? I fight... for the true citizens of Stormwind. For the TRUE ALLIANCE. If you had any sense in you... you would do the... same..."

Slowly, William stood up, something popping in his mind. What if he was a bad guy? What if he was good? What if he was being fooled? Fooled by WHO though?! William fell to one knee and grasped his head, repressed memories flashing back at a fast pace. Father laughing. Mother dead. Those people... the torturer... the murderers. The BODIES. Slowly but surely, William was taking apart the puzzle that structured his mind, yet instead of them remaining broken, he reformed them into a new personality. William slowly stood up as he wiped the blood from his hands on his face.

"You have shown me true light, Elf. For your sake, I will pick up your mantle and continue your quest. I am no longer William Wright. I am Vexos. Vexos of no house, of no family. I hold no bonds and I take no prisoners. I am Vexos. I am an assassin. I am a true criminal."

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Currently, Vexos wanders the streets under his false name and new mantle, continuing the 'just cause' of fighting against the machine. He detests the King and his people, especially those that involve themselves with governmental doings and oppressing the people of Stormwind. Yet, Vexos finds himself growing up each day, further and further beyond who he once was. He began losing count of the years, but one thing has remained ingrained in his mind. The people must be helped. The people must be saved. If he must kill the King himself, then that is what he must do to achieve true peace for the people. All the lives he takes, all the people he hurts are necessary to the cause. In his current crime family, what he does, he does for his cause. What he does, he does for his newly found companions. What he does, he does for his family. For those that have gone and for those yet to come. He is Vexos, and he is the hero Stormwind needs him to be, not the one it deserves.

The one thing he doesn't know, is that all this crime he does is actually evil. I know, right? He doesn't even know. He truly believes that he's doing all this murder, all this crime, for the 'greater good' of some sort, when in all seriousness, he was manipulated so easily. I mean, hey, he was an unstable kid who didn't have the greatest mindset. Who wouldn't fall for such a tall tale?