Appearance

Special abilities

The Curse, transforms people into ferocious creatures known as worgen. It can be transmitted to humans or elves through the Scythe of Elune, the bite of a worgen, or drinking the blood of a worgen. The worgen curse has been referred to as an affliction, sickness, curse, gift, and a blessing, and is a topic of debate between worgen. There is no full cure, though treatments are available to regain sanity and control. Worgen shapeshifting is gradual, and muscle and bone can be heard growing and shifting as the worgen grows a third in height and girth, often tearing out of human-sized shirts. Unlike a druid's shapeshifting, the worgen curse persists through death, and worgen druids return to worgen form when slain. Cenarius, a druidic demi-god, says the worgen curse is beyond druidism.

Mentality

Personal history

The former Gilnean nobleman was forced to flee from Gilneas after the outbreak of the Third War. He took his wife and kids and any refugees he could find and sailed west across the sea towards the western world. Sir Tristan was indeed a noble man, but just like all Gilneans he as well bears the curse.
 
During his time at sea, Sir Tristan spent many days and many nights fending off the threats of the sea and numerous attacks by pirates. Day by day he grew more weary. But he needed to protect the passengers aboard his vessel. Days went on and more threats emerged. Still, Sir Tristan grew more weary and erratic. After spending many sleepless nights standing watch, his wife begged him to lay down and rest. Knight complied with her wishes. He laid sleeping for 3 whole days, unmoving. When he awoke, he awoke in chains. Cackling of pirates could be heard along with distant screams. He looked around and saw most of the refugees he had saved either badly wounded or deceased. In this dark, damp room he stirred angrily. Having to listen to every scream that came from the room across the dark hall, Tristan finally gave in to his primal instincts. He did what he swore he would never do again. He used the Curse's power and began to grow. His arms grew longer, thicker and hairy. His legs began to transform into a dog-like appearance. Claws sprouted from his now elongated hands and feet. His face turned into a snout and a hound-ish maw with several sharp teeth and fangs. His eyes glazed over and began glowing a bright yellow. His growth spurt had shattered the bonds around his hands and feet. When he fell forward, he fell onto all fours, his clothes torn to shreds on the ground at his side. The refugees stared at Sir Knight, baffled by the transformation they had just witnessed. They didn't know whether to be afraid or frightened. Tristan's head shot around the room like a dart. He raised his head to the sky and sniffed; pondering for a few seconds. Then, he stood upright and gazed at his body and what he had become. He felt oddly relaxed. His glowing eyes began to fade and soon the hound's eyes became recognizable as Sir Tristan Knight. A little girl no more than ten feet away asked Sir Tristan if he was okay. His head shot her direction. Startling many of the refugees that still lived. "I think I could get used to this..." was all that was said. He had gained full control of the curse. He smiled at the little girl before leaping down on all fours and darting down the hall towards the source of the screaming. He was fast; faster than a galloping horse. He saw candlelight from underneath a door ahead. Softly and silently he moved towards the door. He tried turning the handle. Nothing. He leaned back and sniffed the air, a scent he recognized. His daughter was behind the door. Instinct took hold again and he broke through the door with a terrible charge. Catching everyone off guard, he used his claws and mutilated them all. He grabbed the last man alive by the neck and held him high to the roof. He looked deep into his eyes as he slowly began squeezing tighter and tighter until the light faded from his eyes. As he dropped the lifeless body, cowering and sobbing in the corner sat his daughter. He fell back on all fours and cautiously walked towards her. With the softest face he could muster, he stared at her only mere inches away from her face. When his eyes caught his daughter's he collapsed forwards, slowly transforming back to his human self. When he came to after a minute or so, his daughter had her arms wrapped tightly around him. Gathering himself, he stood up and looked around the room. On a table at the back laid his wife, unbreathing. Sadness began to engulf him as tears poured down his face. He looked down at the floor for he could not bear to witness the sight. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. On one of the deceased men were what appeared to be a set of keys. He grabbed them along with his daughter and made his way back down the dark and damp hall. When he reached the refugees, many questions were asked as he unlocked the latches around their arms, legs and necks. He had no answers unfortunately. After he was finished releasing the refugees, he made his way back to the dark cell where his wife laid. He grabbed her body and carried it out of the dungeon where they were being held. When he stepped outside, the light was blinding. Many refugees helped Sir Tristan dig a grave. There, he would bury his wife. His ship was left unscathed. He boarded and sailed off into the horizon with the terrible memories buried alongside his wife.

Mental Trauma

Sir Tristan is still torn apart by the loss of his beloved wife.

Known Languages

Common

Personality

Social

Birthplace

Gilneas

Current Residence

Shipwreck Isle