Priest of the 'oly Lig't
Morvyth is old and looks it. Her pale flesh covered with age lines gives the impression of a cracked porcelain doll. She wears the same old robes of office she did in life, though they're now covered in so many cobwebs it's impossible to tell the original colour. Her back is arched and she has a limp causing her to hobble around everywhere with her staff, Despite this she has an iron vice of a grip and is suprisingly nimble if she spots someone who might hear the lights message or a heathen in need of smiting.
Morvyth Blackthrone's dead. She's been dead for the past ten years, unfortunatly no body told her about it, she's not best happy about that. One minute she's making her living as a hedgewytch selling cheap love charms, curing jethro's sheep of the squizzles and wondering if that war in Lordaeron's still going, from her small secluded shack in the swamp of sorrows, the next she's got a nasty cough palid skin and a bunch o' folk yammering on her door with pitch-forks and torches and yelling in a language she no longer understood.
Now she's had to leave her beloved little shack, her pet crockolisk Emmet and her gumbo recipes behind and set out into the big wide world away from the village idiots throwing holy symbols at her. Eventually she found a bunch of other dead people in lordaeron who seem intent on making some potions to give everyone arthritis or something.
Finding them a little too nihilistic she's come to Ogrimmar, after wandering around the city wonderin' what these long horned things are and why the elves are suddenly riding giant ostriches, a kindly young orc directed her to an a small office in the drag, the sign read "Scorpin's orffise, Tusks N HorNss" she's now sat pleasantly in the waiting room looking suspiciously at the giant cow-man-thing and hoping this scorpin can explain exactly what it means to be 87 years old, dead and horde in this bright new age, and maybe where she can find a new book of gumbo recipes.
Things have progressed a little since then. After a few false starts trying to emulate the trolls of tusks and horns because "I don't wannabe dead." she's finally come to accept her unnatural state of being and indeed embraced it. as far as she's concerned the holy light's kept her alive for a reason, and she'll hang around untill the final nights if she has to, to make sure everybody else receives the lights message too....Even if she has to beat all 738 pages of the book of uther into your head with her staff.
"If'n yer not Undead yet, yer not tryin' hard 'nuff!!"
"What yer mean cast smite?? If it's immune to been hit with a 5 foot hardwood staff it's immune to bloody magik too!"
- As the eldest surviving Blackthrone, Morvyth's actually heir to a sizeable forutne.
- Morvyth is in a constant state of Warfare with her sister Mephala, the dispute probably stemming from said fortune.
- Morvyth views the rest of the horde as unruly children and treats them as such. like most old folk though she also has a fondness for children. the exception been Roifa Ashlocke who she believes is always up to mischief and needs a "Sound thrashin" with her belt for leading poor Eshidu astray.
- Morvyth's butler Maelvyre is actually the scourge assassin sent to kill her under heavy mind control. He's recently taken a disturbing tendency towards cross-dressing.
- Morvyth hates animals and keeps only her horse Maggit and her pet Moff mostly because he "won't bugger off an' leave me alone". She keeps a staff to hit small dogs and stray elves.
- The exception to the above is pigeons, or any winged animal resembling pigeons (literally anything if she squints hard enough) which she has an obsession with cooking.
- Morvyth hates anything necromantic or demonic (Everyone that isn't in Church on sunday)Especially night elves who're "Primitive Moon-worshipers" and beyond redemption.
- Morvyth may actually have children, current whereabouts and status unknown.
- In her youth Morvyth wrote dodgy romance novels, they proved quite popular selling 9 copies worldwide, 8 of them being bought by her mother.