Allow me to introduce myself...

[Dibbuk]

My name is Dibbuk and I have come to think that my roots are centered in Thunderbluff but I may never come to know my heritage. I only have faint memories of my life before I was taken in the war against the scourge. From what I was told by my elders, dreams, and visions of the past. I was a funloving young tauren. I loved to eat and I was extrememly social. The only other thing I know about my past is that I was a sort of Druid. I had a vast love of nature which I think comes with the territory of being my kind in the first place, yes?nnDuring the war I was wounded in one of the many battles that involved the scourge and also the forsaken, they're the devil they are. I was left or even assumed dead by my comrades who fought on to win the battle but with massive casualties. I was thought to be one of those casualties but also, was missing in action. My memory is blurred since I was barely concious, but I do remember one distinct thing: the smell. The smell of the Ebon Hold before it was neutralized by us Knights of the Ebon Blade was that of death and destruction. It was then that I knew I was going to be chosen to do the Lich King's bidding. The execution process was surprisingly painless. Maybe they felt some pity for me, I don't know.nnWhen I woke up, I felt a searing pain running through my entire body. The light all turned a shade of blue and I felt not myself. I was given orders to go and speak with the Lich King and I went without thinking. He had me do horrible, unspeakable acts of evil with no ending outcome other than my face spattered with innocent blood. I was told later that I indeed was the one who had killed my own mother. It still frightens me how powerful the Lich King is. I still stir in my sleep.nnI'm sure you all have heard of the battles between Mograine and the King. It is all a blurry veil over a shadow of a memeory I may have had at one point. But alas, it is now gone. The next thing I remember was showing up in the middle of a cottage just outside of Thunder Bluff. Standing before me was an old tauren who then told me of my current status. Before this moment, I had never heard of the term "Deathknight" but when she uttered those words, I knew what they meant. I looked in the mirror and saw my blue eyes and blood drenched face. I asked if the blood was that of the innocent. She only stared into my eyes. I knew. I broke the mirror. The woman told me of my roots; of my heritage. The fate of the tauren and the current state of the world. nnShe then had me sit around a fire and then proceeded with a ceremony. She had told me that as a Tauren, my coming of age meant a re-naming of myself. In the old world of Azeroth, the old mystics talked about rogue spirits that took the bodies of the recently deceased and stood as them. They were sometimes good, and often sinister in nature as well. These spirits were named Dibbuks. She felt that for me, this name was best suited considering my recent journey and present state. My name was from then on: Dibbuk Mongkek Longhoof. nnI assure you all I am far from sinister. But due to my current state of undeath; I tend to lash out at times. Though I usually lash out at tthe enemy. The scars that run up and down my body; as well as the faded runes that cover my chest and arms are a reminder of what I used to be and what I am now. In essence, I am an abomination. But in spirit I am a Tauren. Long live Bloodhoof and Long live the Horde!