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Mal'fon "Malichi" Zandal
Game Name


Race Troll
Gender Male
Class Mage
Professions Tailoring Herbalism
Guild Alea Iacta Est
Affiliations Wheres Northrend?

I grew up the son of a mystic in the city of Zuldazar. My family lived on the edge of society because of my father’s strange magical practices. While others practiced Voodoo, my father studied the ways of the Magi which combined the disciplines of the arcane, fire and frost. As a good son should, I studied along with my father but all I wanted was to be like everyone else.

At the age of 15 under great protest from my father, I left Zandalar Island to seek adventure and fortune in the ruthless land of Stranglethorn Vale. Finally, I was free of my father’s crazy ideas. Three days after I set sail for Booty Bay my vessel was intercepted by Bloodsail pirates. I was pressed into service on the Devil Shark, the flagship of the Bloodsail fleet. For years I served as a deckhand. Eventually my hard work and my inclination for magic caught the favor of Duke Falrevere. I spent my days toiling in the hot sun on the deck of the Devil Shark and my nights entertaining the Duke with, what he called magic “tricks”. My father’s magic is not a “trick”. He had no idea what I was capable of. He also changed my name from the “vile” troll name Mal’fon to the more “proper” human name Malichi.

Despite changing my name and dismissing my father’s magic as mere “tricks”, the Duke was very good to me. Through hard work, loyalty and the Duke’s backing, I found myself excelling up the ranks of the Bloodsail Buccaneers which eventually lead me to my own ship the “Wandering Anger” and the rank of Bloodsail Admiral. Looking back, that was a fitting name for my ship.

For two years I commanded the most lucrative pirate ship in Azeroth. The Wandering Anger sent chills down the spines of the most salty of sailors. While on a three month voyage off the coast of the Wetlands, I learned of my father’s capture by my superior officer Fleet Master Firallon. He spoke of a plot in which my father was sent by the Steamwheedle Cartel to assassinate Duke Falrevere but was foiled by Firallon’s “superior intelligence”. I could see through his lies. Firallon had been envious of my relationship with the Duke for years and had a deep hatred of me. I rushed to Bloodsial Hold on Plunder Isle to ask for my father’s release. Despite my pleas, the Duke called for my father execution. I warned him that if my father dies he will soon follow. The Duke called for his guards to take me into custody for treason. Enraged, I could feel the power of my father’s magic flowing though me. With a great explosion of arcane energy, everyone near me fell to the floor. While trying to save my father, the Duke fled like the true coward he is.

…on the eve of the 26th year of my birth, my father died at the hands of the faction that I had pledged my loyalty.

I kept my “proper” human name to fuel my hatred for Duke Falrevere…I hate my name. My only thought is revenge. My only emotion is anger. I will never know peace as long as there are Bloodsail Buccaneers sailing the seas of Azeroth.