
The last survivor of a long-forgotten religious order, Yorick is both blessed and cursed with power over the dead. Trapped on the Shadow Isles, his only companions are the rotting corpses and shrieking wraiths that he gathers to him. Yorick's monstrous actions belie his noble purpose: to free his home from the curse of the Ruination.
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Crowd Control
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The Cursed Horde: Yorick can summon Mist Walkers to swarm and attack nearby enemies.

The Undertaker is a wretched creature, cursed to shoulder every secret his city has buried. These old, unhappy things tear constantly at his mind, which is itself infected by his queen's unending ambition.

Yorick was resurrected with the undying soul of heavy metal inside him for the singular purpose of joining PENTAKILL and melting faces with his bass guitar. He can also summon an army of roadie ghouls, a handy trick for any seasoned stage performer.

The once-great king Yorick, given the gifts of power and immortality in an age long past, left his mighty kingdom to enforce the will of the divine. Hundreds of years later he returned, his lands naught but dust and ruins, and in his sorrow was consumed by madness.

A cat fancier hailing from the Forsaken Aisles of a Pets Supreme Superstore, Yorick does not have any unresolved issues involving or related to cats. Yorick is a perfectly normal gentleman dressed as a cat, surrounded by cats, who can call upon the esoteric powers of a giant, floating cat. You know, normal gentleman stuff.

With the rise of the Battlecast armies, Yorick found to his horror that the living minds Viktor fused to his machines bound the souls of his victims to their machine bodies. Harnessing his ability to command the dead, Yorick now raises destroyed and defeated Battlecast husks in an attempt to free all these souls from their machine prisons.

All hail, Yorick, the Four-String Fanatic! He bestrides the realms of the living and the dead, and knows the fate that comes to all mortal things. It pays to beware the honorable man...

The Ashen Caretaker was once a man who, alongside a timid fawn, tended to a sacred forest with the utmost care—until it burned to the ground before his eyes. His heart, too, crumbled to ash, for it had forgotten death gives rise to new blooms. Now the flowers he tends seem to blister in flames unseen, his gardeners now howling creatures of the night.

A somber titan from a long-dead galaxy, Yorick plants a garden of nothingness wherever he roams. He memorializes existence in silence, cultivating a grave in the negative space where matter once bloomed.

Father Yorick can still feel the whisper of his lost love's stifled breath against his neck. He can't forget the blood on her veil, nor the shot that stole her away, ringing in the vault of the church. But fleeing into the heatsick West ain't enough to outrun her ghost. He shoulders her coffin and ambles onward, warm revolvers dancing in his nightmares.