"Upon this hollow ground I weep,
Upon this shadow's haunt I keep,
Alone in darkness, festers deep,
This vengeance I still do keep."
Horace Nevermore, Horace Gilder in life, is a "retired" Forsaken warrior that had served in The Dark Lady's army in the campaign against the Lich King in Northrend. He spends most of his days learning the arts of potion brewing, taking a keen interest in all different forms of alchemy. He lives a life of solitude, away from the Undercity and the town of Brill in the countryside of Tirisfal Glades. Seldom does he leave his small cottage, unless it is meant for to collect herbs growing in the forest, or traveling to the capital for new alchemy equipment.
In Life[]
"What I remember from my previous life, most of it escapes me. I am left with only the memories which haunt me to this day. My parents I know little of, except for their names Matthias and Ether Gilder. My father was a blacksmith originally, but left that trade to pursue a life tilling the land. He bought a small cottage in the countryside, outside Brill where we had previously lived. Then, sometime when I had grown into adulthood, they sent me off to the capital to study as a physician. I spent many years there, although none of them do I remember."
"When I had finished my studies abroad, I returned to Brill. By the time I returned, plague had gripped that town with such a devastation I have yet to see its ilk to this day. The bodies lying in the streets with no one to care for, rotting day by day as they laid there are the images I see most clearly in my memories. There were so many dead the living could not bury them all. For fear of catching the disease, many did not want to. I and a few others dedicated ourselves to removing the bodies. Our days were spent hauling wagons full of mangled corpses to grave sites already plagued by the dead in burdensome numbers. After doing my part, I left for Stratholme, where there was news that plague had already spread across the countryside to the east. By the time I arrived, the sick there were already dying. Arthas and his knights came, purging the entire city."
"I too fell, afflicted by the plague at last. Arthas' men drew their swords and slaughtered us all like dogs. From that point on, darkness consumed my vision, a thick black void that barred me from the world of the living and of the dead. The light of the world extinguished before me. The next time I saw that light was when I had risen, as if I had awaken from a great sleep. It was in a tomb surrounded by skulls and skeletal bodies, rotten and decayed. I had discovered that I too was like them, a walking corpse, a shadow of my former self. Within me I discovered a hole in my heart, a dark void much like that blackness I had seen in my death. Except this blackness spoke out to me, whispering into my mind dark whispers of hate and malice. The voices burned within me, craving what I learned to be a hunger for revenge, a hunger to strike down those who cursed me, who defiled me and turned me into what I am today. I knew that only one thing would sate this burning sensation within my body, my soul, and that cure would be to satisfy my vengeance."
In Undeath[]
"To be continued"