Greld "Ironfist" Rendgald

Details of your Orc character:
Name:Greld Rendgald
Class:Warrior
Level: 2, but soon to be 10 ; D

Tell us something about your playing experience:
I've played wow since the release in Europe.

Tell us something about your roleplaying experience:
I've been a serious and casual roleplayer since the start of moonglade, were I've been in the cathedral of light and the famed Kaboom Inc ^^

And finally, please write a short story and/or IC introduction about your character:

Greld is an old veteran, dating all the way back to the second war, when the horde first descended upon Azeroth bend on destroying the land of man.
He is also a very skilled blacksmith, since he believed that to be a good warrior, you must trust your weapon, therefor he learned the craftmanship of his favored weapon, the axe, because if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself!
He is a strong surporter of Thrall and put much trust and devotion in this figure, sometimes, if not often, too much.
He is proud, a skilled warrior and not a man of magic, it is too complicated for his like.
He now make a living of travelling around to gather materials and crafting weapon and fight for the local of Durotar and the Nothern Part of the Barrens at the border to Ashenvale, were his most spited nemesises live, the Night Elves.

Greld opened his eyes and sat up in a chok.
Just a moment ago he had been fighting the Night Elves of Ashenvale, which had been lying in ambush, waiting for his caravan and crush it in the shadow of the night.

He realised he was lying in a Kodo wagon (Horse Wagon?) with bandages around his chest and his shoulders.
He looked around and noticed he was lying in the midst of a pile of wounded orc soldiers, which were moaning and crying in agony of the pain which had been inflicted upon them by the Night elves ambush.

He rised only to be met with the pain which had been hiding in the back of his head, he fell on one knee holding a tight grip around his left ribs, his vision began to blur and as he tried to look at the coachman, he began to cough and a hand touched his shoulder, he turned his head to face the person, a mild voice spoke: "Lok'Tar ogar Warrior, you fought bravely, now rest, we have a long journey ahead of us.", "Were are we going?" asked Greld, surprised over how these words fell from his mouth like the a strong breeze, fighting to be free.

Greld could only just skim the small grin of the figure ahead of him, "We are going to the alliance main camp", Greld smiled at the irony of these words, he felt how the area were the strangers hand were laying upon his shoulder, how the pain floated away, like water dripping down your body.
He looked at the hand and saw it was glowing with a strange green light, he stood up, his vision slowly began to return.
It took him a moment to regain his lost strength, when he realized who it was standing in front of him
He fell upon his knees, the stranger looked surprised and asked him to rise again.
He a tear fell from Grelds eye, as he had finally realised who the figure was, a smile came from his mouth and more tears fell as he looked the person in the eyes, he felt that it would all be good now.
Nothing could stop them from having a home of their own anymore, not even the comming of the demons or ravaging hordes of the undead.
The feeling he had right now, had he never had before, a mix of admiration and awe of the persons appearance.
His shoulder fell, his eyes opened and only one word fell from his mouth.
"Warchief..."

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