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Oargoth the Bloodied
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« on: January 03, 2012, 07:21:42 PM » |
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Name: Oargoth the Bloodied
Class: Shaman
Level: 85
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Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:
I have been RPing on Defias Brotherhood for quite a few years now, roleplaying mostly on the Alliance with sparse attempts inbetween with the Horde. One of these was Eraggor, a Hunter previously in OotRB. Mostly however, you would know me as the Arathorians; Nygarth and Orthur.
I enjoy PvP, moreso than any PvE however more than either I love to Roleplay. If it wasn't for Roleplay, I wouldn't still be playing WoW. Fact.
I enjoy Roleplay so much infact that I've dived into many different guilds in attempts to locate myself a home, I've found that in Kingdom of Stromgarde, and always end up returning to them alas when I think to my time as Horde, I always prefered OotRB and SGE over anything else. Thus this return.
And finally, please write a short story and/or IC introduction about your character:
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"Listen here, ye might learn somethin'...Imagine this..."
Smothered in dirt, a dark haired Orc mutters desperate pleas to the spirits as he's kicked awake by a Soldier's foot. In an uncommon tongue, the Human curses and spits, leading Him to work. As His eyes grow accustomed to the unusual sunlight, He begins to see other Orcs equally as irritated and lowly being treated as slaves by the Race they once conquered. But it wasn't always like this...
There was a time when the Orcs stood strong against the oppressors, when He, smothered in Blood, called forth the Wind, Fire, Earth and Water to strike against his foes but now, the Elements ignored his pleas. The Earth refused to shatter underneath his feet...Fire refused to summon infernos at his bidding and so on and so forth...The Orc didn't understand it, perhaps it was this alien planet he was now on. This was no Draenor and somehow, somewhere, within him felt an emptiness due to it.
Days went by without a word said, nights were spent without sleep and meals were missed. The Orcs had nothing in them to feed, no rage to sate. Only emptiness.
Til one day, as the great tales utter, a Shaman named Thrall evacuated the Encampments. Revived the spirit in the Orcs and rose the great Horde that works tirelessly today, still simply surviving in this new world. By the Blood of our Ancestors, the Blood of our Tribe, the Blood that fuels our spirits we now own this Planet and it all began with the Orcs that were suppressed.
"I am one of those Orcs, pups. I am Oargoth. -Te- Orc that once paled at te sight o' a Pinkskin, -te- Orc tha' was forgotten by te Elements but I'll tell ye this. Tha' Boot could never awake within me what Thrall did that day; a burning passion. I pray one day, you feel the same sensation boiling yer Blood with an Axe in one hand an' a willing Flame in te o'er."
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