Post by Astarii Silverwind on Sept 2, 2009 21:48:19 GMT -5
((I see that you accept cross faction RP, so I hope that this isn't frowned upon. My first RP character(s) were two Troll siblings, Zen'jie the elder sister and Tai'za the younger brother. These are two separate stories that I wrote a little while back that I never really had the chance to share.))
Stranglethorn (The Younger Years)
Stranglethorn was particularly hot that day; even the breeze coming from the surrounding ocean did nothing to cool its inhabitants. A young troll made her way down the Western beach, sticking near to the tree line, seemingly looking for something and very agitated. The troll’s name was Zen’jie and after being threatened with a good beating and maybe even a hex or two, she had been sent off to find some herbs to recreate the sapta that she had ruined earlier. As nothing more than her grandmother’s apprentice in the shamanistic arts, Zen’jie had such a difficult time concentrating in this heat.
“Lotus…t’istle…palm ash…” she sighed and looked up from her herb pouch, gazing longingly at the cool water just a few yards away. Remembering the last time that she took too long, she went back to shuffling through her cache.
“Goldt’orn…” rubbing at some dirt on the goldthorn stems, the sound was very close before she even noticed it. Hooves on sand and several people speaking in a strange language. Furious with herself for letting them sneak up on her, she snarled and started to back into the trees, dropping her herbs back into the pouch at her hip. She had nothing more than a small herbing knife to defend herself and cursed herself for this too. What sort of troll runs around without a good weapon?
The small band of humans and elves came to a stop just before her. The elves were sneering at her, their noses turned up at her as though she was some stinking thing they had found on the ground. The humans with them, though, were obviously drunk and seemingly very intrigued at the sight of a real troll. A female at that!
An obvious worker his entire life; A tall human, with black hair, tanned skin, and very worn hands stepped towards her with his arms out. “Ishnu-alah?” Zen’jie looked incredulously at him.
“Bal’a dash?” It was the elves turns to look at him with disdain. He sighed and dropped his head, when he raised it back up to look at her, he just smiled and waved.
Zen’jie had enough of this, her grandmother was waiting, and this idiot seemed to think she was some sort of deformed elf. She looked around for anything she could use, any sort of exit that she could take. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take a step towards her, and before she knew what she was doing she called on the only element that had ever answered her. She called on the earth hoping to raise some of the sand as a barrier between herself and them. Instead some of it shot up into his face. It was pitiful. It was weak. She would have been better off kicking it into his face, but it was enough to surprise all of them. She took that as her cue to start running, their agitated shouts behind her, and all she could think was “me and them earth spirits are gonna be havin’ a talk.”
((I need to write some stories to link this one and the next, but to fill you in she ended up having a romantic relationship with the human. While she was off with him she didn't notice that the elves decided that it would be funny to teach Tai'za the arcane arts. He ended up attempting a spell much too strong for him and it wiped his brain. (This was to explain the fact that as I was new to dual boxing, Tai'za never spoke, just shot things and mined ore.
) Shortly after their grandmother died and they left for Ogrimmar.
Here they joined The Stormrock Clan which was a clan in favor of the "true horde", one that does not accept undead or blood elves and wishes to return to the old Shamanistic/Druidic ways. Tai'za slowly began to get better and able to speak more, and more capable in his class. DK's were released and as I already had a high level shaman I decided to reroll as a DK. Here's that story.))
Northrend
Zen’jie lie on the stone floor, curled into a ball and attempting to ignore the pain that she was in. Trying to ignore how cold it was in these forsaken lands of the North. How stupid she had been to bring her brother here, her little brother.
---
Tai’za had healed over the past months, had become more like himself. He talked and joked with her, even had a crush on a barmaid in Orgrimmar. He had wanted to attune himself to the water spirit, to beg the elements forgiveness for turning his back on them in favor of the arcane. They traveled to Northrend, where some of the purest water elements dwell. They were going to be a family again.
Instead they found death at the hands of the Lich King’s knights. They had no business in these lands, these two young jungle trolls bundled up, their murmured curses visible as they rose, frozen, to the sky. When the Death Knights found them, they tried to fight, knowing that it was hopeless. Zen’jie fought forward in terror as they surrounded Tai’za; she fought in blind rage as they slit his throat.
In those last moments, she had never felt the elements surge through her as they did then. She could see nothing but hate, and she could feel nothing but raw power, borrowed from Kalimdor itself. She buried her axes into flesh, weighted with the strength of earth; she burned the faces of her attackers with bursts of fire; knocked them back with lightening that made the thin air sizzle. It was all in vain, even with the damage she had done them, it wasn’t until a great axe buried itself into her spine that she had realized all of the damage they had done to her. They had blinded her and as she fell, limp to the ground, she could smell blood in the snow. Troll blood. Her blood.
----
She smiled ruefully to herself as she heard the plate boots cross towards her. She had impressed them. She knew what they would do to her, what they would force her to become. She wept for Tai’za, for her broken family, as someone lifted her from the ground. And as the runeblade slid into her abdomen, she swore her revenge.
-----
The transformation and training hadn't taken long, a little less than a year. The torture that they put the Death Knights through was nothing compared to what they had already done to her, they had destroyed her family. Her brother was dead, and the worst part of it all were those months that she forgot about him. It made her sick to think of it, made even worse to think that she was training and living with the people that had done it.
She grinned widely, giving a feral look to her. She had been given a break, a large portion of the Death Knights were revolting against the Lich King. The newly formed Knights of the Ebon Blade, headed by Darion Mograin himself, retook Archerus as their first step against Arthas. She fought with renewed strength and purpose, to be free of this thing in her head.
When the fight was over, Mograin sent her to bring a message of allegiance to Thrall. Returning to Ogrimmar was going to be a difficult thing for her, she knew this. She scrounged up what was left of her old life; her shirt, given to her as an apprentice shaman, was torn in places, and stained worse than before but nothing that couldn't be repaired. Her belt of white wolf fur, a remnant from her Om'riggor was in terrible shape, but there were pieces that could be saved here and there. She walked toward the portal to Orgrimmar, and when she reached the balcony she released her eagle feathers into the breeze. The spirits would not hear her anymore, they did not recognize dead things.
----
The walk through Ogrimmar had been trying, young and old spitting on her, throwing rotting things at her. She laughed at the irony of depending on Thrall to do something she used to think was weakness, and he did not disappoint. Thrall himself declared that she and the rest of the Knights of the Ebon Blade be accepted as allies.
"So," she said to herself, as she walked from Thrall's hut, "one leada' down, one more ta go." She sighed and, pulling her hood further down her face, started the short walk towards the Stormrock Clan hovel.
Stranglethorn (The Younger Years)
Stranglethorn was particularly hot that day; even the breeze coming from the surrounding ocean did nothing to cool its inhabitants. A young troll made her way down the Western beach, sticking near to the tree line, seemingly looking for something and very agitated. The troll’s name was Zen’jie and after being threatened with a good beating and maybe even a hex or two, she had been sent off to find some herbs to recreate the sapta that she had ruined earlier. As nothing more than her grandmother’s apprentice in the shamanistic arts, Zen’jie had such a difficult time concentrating in this heat.
“Lotus…t’istle…palm ash…” she sighed and looked up from her herb pouch, gazing longingly at the cool water just a few yards away. Remembering the last time that she took too long, she went back to shuffling through her cache.
“Goldt’orn…” rubbing at some dirt on the goldthorn stems, the sound was very close before she even noticed it. Hooves on sand and several people speaking in a strange language. Furious with herself for letting them sneak up on her, she snarled and started to back into the trees, dropping her herbs back into the pouch at her hip. She had nothing more than a small herbing knife to defend herself and cursed herself for this too. What sort of troll runs around without a good weapon?
The small band of humans and elves came to a stop just before her. The elves were sneering at her, their noses turned up at her as though she was some stinking thing they had found on the ground. The humans with them, though, were obviously drunk and seemingly very intrigued at the sight of a real troll. A female at that!
An obvious worker his entire life; A tall human, with black hair, tanned skin, and very worn hands stepped towards her with his arms out. “Ishnu-alah?” Zen’jie looked incredulously at him.
“Bal’a dash?” It was the elves turns to look at him with disdain. He sighed and dropped his head, when he raised it back up to look at her, he just smiled and waved.
Zen’jie had enough of this, her grandmother was waiting, and this idiot seemed to think she was some sort of deformed elf. She looked around for anything she could use, any sort of exit that she could take. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take a step towards her, and before she knew what she was doing she called on the only element that had ever answered her. She called on the earth hoping to raise some of the sand as a barrier between herself and them. Instead some of it shot up into his face. It was pitiful. It was weak. She would have been better off kicking it into his face, but it was enough to surprise all of them. She took that as her cue to start running, their agitated shouts behind her, and all she could think was “me and them earth spirits are gonna be havin’ a talk.”
((I need to write some stories to link this one and the next, but to fill you in she ended up having a romantic relationship with the human. While she was off with him she didn't notice that the elves decided that it would be funny to teach Tai'za the arcane arts. He ended up attempting a spell much too strong for him and it wiped his brain. (This was to explain the fact that as I was new to dual boxing, Tai'za never spoke, just shot things and mined ore.
) Shortly after their grandmother died and they left for Ogrimmar. Here they joined The Stormrock Clan which was a clan in favor of the "true horde", one that does not accept undead or blood elves and wishes to return to the old Shamanistic/Druidic ways. Tai'za slowly began to get better and able to speak more, and more capable in his class. DK's were released and as I already had a high level shaman I decided to reroll as a DK. Here's that story.))
Northrend
Zen’jie lie on the stone floor, curled into a ball and attempting to ignore the pain that she was in. Trying to ignore how cold it was in these forsaken lands of the North. How stupid she had been to bring her brother here, her little brother.
---
Tai’za had healed over the past months, had become more like himself. He talked and joked with her, even had a crush on a barmaid in Orgrimmar. He had wanted to attune himself to the water spirit, to beg the elements forgiveness for turning his back on them in favor of the arcane. They traveled to Northrend, where some of the purest water elements dwell. They were going to be a family again.
Instead they found death at the hands of the Lich King’s knights. They had no business in these lands, these two young jungle trolls bundled up, their murmured curses visible as they rose, frozen, to the sky. When the Death Knights found them, they tried to fight, knowing that it was hopeless. Zen’jie fought forward in terror as they surrounded Tai’za; she fought in blind rage as they slit his throat.
In those last moments, she had never felt the elements surge through her as they did then. She could see nothing but hate, and she could feel nothing but raw power, borrowed from Kalimdor itself. She buried her axes into flesh, weighted with the strength of earth; she burned the faces of her attackers with bursts of fire; knocked them back with lightening that made the thin air sizzle. It was all in vain, even with the damage she had done them, it wasn’t until a great axe buried itself into her spine that she had realized all of the damage they had done to her. They had blinded her and as she fell, limp to the ground, she could smell blood in the snow. Troll blood. Her blood.
----
She smiled ruefully to herself as she heard the plate boots cross towards her. She had impressed them. She knew what they would do to her, what they would force her to become. She wept for Tai’za, for her broken family, as someone lifted her from the ground. And as the runeblade slid into her abdomen, she swore her revenge.
-----
The transformation and training hadn't taken long, a little less than a year. The torture that they put the Death Knights through was nothing compared to what they had already done to her, they had destroyed her family. Her brother was dead, and the worst part of it all were those months that she forgot about him. It made her sick to think of it, made even worse to think that she was training and living with the people that had done it.
She grinned widely, giving a feral look to her. She had been given a break, a large portion of the Death Knights were revolting against the Lich King. The newly formed Knights of the Ebon Blade, headed by Darion Mograin himself, retook Archerus as their first step against Arthas. She fought with renewed strength and purpose, to be free of this thing in her head.
When the fight was over, Mograin sent her to bring a message of allegiance to Thrall. Returning to Ogrimmar was going to be a difficult thing for her, she knew this. She scrounged up what was left of her old life; her shirt, given to her as an apprentice shaman, was torn in places, and stained worse than before but nothing that couldn't be repaired. Her belt of white wolf fur, a remnant from her Om'riggor was in terrible shape, but there were pieces that could be saved here and there. She walked toward the portal to Orgrimmar, and when she reached the balcony she released her eagle feathers into the breeze. The spirits would not hear her anymore, they did not recognize dead things.
----
The walk through Ogrimmar had been trying, young and old spitting on her, throwing rotting things at her. She laughed at the irony of depending on Thrall to do something she used to think was weakness, and he did not disappoint. Thrall himself declared that she and the rest of the Knights of the Ebon Blade be accepted as allies.
"So," she said to herself, as she walked from Thrall's hut, "one leada' down, one more ta go." She sighed and, pulling her hood further down her face, started the short walk towards the Stormrock Clan hovel.
Founded April 26, 2005