Weasel of Mictlan
Weasel
- Pronounced like the animal
- The Illustrious, The Innumerable, The Quite Possibly Enamored, High Priest of Mictlan, Engineering Core Veteran, Head of Gilded Tankard Tavern Auction, Maytan of Bloodface Tribe
- Started fighting 2020
- Started eventing 2021
Pronouns: They/Them
Realm: Mictlán
Unit: Engineering Core
Race: Hat Troll
Tribe: Bloodface tribe
Event Attendance
- Return to Moria: 2021,2024
- Armageddon: 2022,2023,2024,2025
- Oktoberfest: 2022,2023,2024,2025
- Olympics: 2024,2025
- Wolfpack Opener: 2024,2025
- Numenor Opener: 2024,2025
- Gathering of the Clans: 2024,2025
- WAR: 2024, 2025
- Monster Mash: 2025
- Scars and Stripes: 2025
Lore
Character story
Weasel is the chosen name of a Hat Troll cursed with an eternal, ravenous hunger due to the Void Shard located deep within his stomach. Weasel has wandered long and far, and rarely until recently involved himself in the affairs of the mortal aether creatures. That is, until they discovered gold. Suddenly, they had things he wanted. Shiny, delightful things that glittered so beautifully in the light of Damun. Before long, he discovered not only did it look pretty but it tasted DIVINE. He roamed far and wide in search of ever more gold to fill the unfillable hole in his belly. He slew men, elves, dwarves, wizards, dragons, even his fellow trolls. All in search of his glimmering loot.
One day, after a particularly fine meal that was ever so conveniently placed in a large pot at the end of a rainbow (seriously, who does that? a fool who wants his gold eaten, that's who) he relaxed back in the baleful light of his old friend up high until an angry short fellow poofed into vision. He screamed and screamed about the gold Weasel had eaten being his and how the troll would regret his decision to steal it (steal it? has this fool not considered I'd eaten it? Does he not know how delicious gold is?) right up until the troll snatched him up in one large hand by his (admittedly rather nice and fancy if small) boots. No sooner than he could make a single noise of protest, the troll swallowed him whole and forcefully choked him down (fae are always a delicious meal). Weasel of course, did not know this was no ordinary fae but rather the King of the Leprechauns, an ancient manifestation of Greed itself. Now suffering the Curse himself, Weasel finds his hunger EXCLUSIVELY applies to gold and precious things. All of which clearly belong to him and him alone. In addition, he finds large stints of being stuck in the accursed accent of that little fellow. The one positive of this whole thing is he finds any gold that does happen to leave his possession has an odd habit of finding its way back to him.