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| - If Silvanus Desiderius Capstone had known that the Third War was going to be so damn inconvenient, he just wouldn't have bothered with it. It had, after all, always been his opinion that wars are a hobby best accomplished by Dwarves or Orcs who value crude sharp and pointy things and the study of how to hit one another with those crude sharp and pointy things to optimum effect. Yes, while Silvanus was sure that attempting to find the perfect hack/slash ratio while seeking to learn the secrets behind which metallurgical compositions suffer the most, they were schools that the Arcanist had no desire to take part in. He was, after all, a Pyromancer in the service of Baron Silverlaine of Shadowfang Keep, and an Pyromancer needs not the simple machinations contrived by the tools of the warrior creed to solve problems! The Mind is a weapon! Silvanus had long ago decided this to be true, and though an axe might be able to cleave a mind in two, that very same intellectual device could utterly eviscerate the person holding the axe long before the axe in question had even considered the possibility of getting wet that day. Conversely, the mind could also settle the situation with the power of the written and spoken word long before any physical violence might even become an option. The power of intellect! Able to hurl the unbridled cabalistic forces of the universe at a foe, lecture his corpse on the proper methods of battle etiquette (for if you're going to kill a man, you may as well be polite about it), and then tear open a portal through space and time itself to get you home in time to check on the process of your latest alchemical ponderment. Yes, Silvanus Desiderius Capstone was a Pyromancer who was very much pleased with his position in life. It has, after all, been a position that had been five decades in the making, and - though the powers of the arcane, that beloved mistress of Magi the world over - would most likely be a position he could hold on to for five, ten, or perhaps even twenty decades more! With the venerable Baron Silverlaine as his employer (who needed him more than Silvernus needed the Baron), Shadowfang Keep as his bastion and library, the limitless forces of the arcane at his command, Pyrewood Village within blinking distance, and Silverpine Forest as his enclave empire all around him, life was decidedly good. He had never married, devoted as he was to the lady that was the Arcane, and his position was one of illustriousness and grandeur, free as he was to pursue the arts of burning things to a cinder and creating items that did the same thing, only with less flare. And as Shadowfang was, for the most part, decidedly safe from bandits and the like, Silvernus was very rarely bothered by the common people who dwelt within the walls of the Keep, able to study the arcane and document his research in total peace. Even better, the Dwarves and Orcs that valued crude sharp and pointy things and the study of how to hit one another with those crude sharp and pointy things to optimum effect were, for the most part, leagues away to the south. Indeed, life was very good. And then the Third War had to go and happen, which spoiled Silvanus' entire day. The Undead Plague was, Silvanus had decided, actually quite ingenious from a Mage's point of view, and he had to admit that Kel'Thuzad didn't seem THAT bad of a Wizard to know, from what he'd read. After all, it took determination to raise a Cult as dedicated as the one that the Lich King commanded, and Silvanus - from a professional point of view - had to respect that. The Scholomance also seemed quite an interesting place to study, Silvanus had concluded, and once things settled down, he thought that he might quite like to visit the place and sample the arcane delights that Kel'Thuzad would have undoubtably collected by that time. Thus, as long as Kel'Thuzad's little war with the rich blonde boy from Lordaeron didn't cause too much vexation for him, the Pyromancer of Shadowfang Keep entertained the idea that he may quite enjoy having an Undead Scourge as neighbors. They'd certainly bring a little culture to the drab region, if nothing else. Of course, Silvanus had little grasp on the greater scope of events as they unfolded. He had, after all, seen the Second War as it happened, and had even taken part in it. A small part, mostly from the back rows, hurling fireballs at Orcs that valued crude sharp and pointy things over the delicate embrace of the arcane. His command of pyromancy had been outstanding even back then, however, and Silvanus was sure that IF it came to it, he could quite easily defend his way of life from those who might seek to take it off him. A little immolation here, some combustion there, a dustpan and brush, and life would return to normal. And then the Kirin Tor arrived, and the Archmage of Shadowfang Keep, Arugal, decided to become friends with them and aid the wizards in their battle against Kel'Thuzad and his Undead Legion, and Silvanus found that he day was about to get REALLY bad. Annoyed that the Kirin Tor who fell to the Scourge were returning as Undead Kirin Tor (an improvement, as far as Silvanus was concerned), Archmage Arugal convinced Baron Silverlaine to offer the services of the Keep and all who dwelled within it to the Wizards of Dalaran. Pyromancers included. Vexing, to say the least. However, Silvanus wasn't one to refuse an order. Besides, a little immolation here, some combustion there, a dustpan and brush, and life would return to normal. Undead be damned. Right? Deciding to summon extra-dimensional entities to bolster Dalaran's diminishing ranks (which Silvanus assured him was a BAD idea), Arugal's summoning brought the ravenous worgen into the world of Azeroth. Suffice to say, the feral wolf-men slaughtered not only the Scourge, but quickly turned on the wizards themselves, much to the dismay and utter annoyance of one Pyromancer Silvanus Desiderius Capstone. Though he put up a valiant fight, and withstood the acrid scent of burning fur, and although his robes and possessions were utterly RUINED by wolf-man drool (and claws, and teeth), Silvanus was forced to flee his home and life and turn rogue, living each day in fear of the Worgs at his heels, as well as all the other delights that the Third War now had to offer. Having fled north towards what is now known as the Plaguelands, Silvanus was one of those unlucky enough to eventually succumb to the effects of the Plague of Undeath, falling victim to the touch of death that it placed upon him, before rising once more as one of the Undead. In the wake of Illidan's failed attempt to melt the icy continent of Northrend, after the powerful energies possessed by the Lich King inside his Frozen Throne began to decay, the Lich King's mental domination over Silvanus lost hold, restoring the former Pyromancer's conscious will. However, Silvanus would also find that the talents he held in life had not survived the transition into living death, much to his dismay. He spent the next few years attempting to help build and secure the Undercity, working as an enchanter and dabbling in the creation of outlandish devices as an engineer until Bethor Iceshard - who had been a passing associate of the former Pyromancer decades before in the Mage City of Dalaran - convinced Silvanus to visit the Mage Quarter of the Undercity, and take note of all those who were in situations such as his who were now attempting to do something about it. And so, Silvanus has embarked upon a personal quest to regain the legacy that he had forged in life, and become a Pyromancer once more.
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