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Kaszmfaz The Tracker
Of all the most useless body parts, tusks is easily at the top of my list. Big old bony protrusions that frankly, make eating and a drinking more of a chore then cleaning the pens of twelvescore Dragon Whelps.

But i digress. I'll save my pointless excursions into bemoaning my physcical forms for another day.

And wipe that puzzled look off your face. I may be a troll, but I certainly dont have to mumble the gibberish my estranged bretheren do.

I am Kasmfaz the Tracker, originally of the Vilebranch Tribe. My parents were killed by a raiding party of Wildhammer Clan Dwarves. I, being an infant only a few days old, was spared and kept as a pet by the Dwarves. Owing to my young age, i have no actual recollection of this, but I am told I was brutally mistreated at their hands.

I was bought from them by a traveling Mage and his two slave/hirelings. If you want a long campfire story of my childhood, then get me a campfire and a Bronze Dragon, because I have no intention of wasting time with a verbose retlelling of it. I've done that far too many times already.

Heres the short version. I was raised as a human child would be by the Mage, Mystarfar Torel. Taught to speak, read, write and all the other necessities of life. I was trained not in the magical arts, but to be a tracker and a hunter. His two underlings, supposedly bound to his will by magical incanations, were imbecilles named Jeg and Jag. Foul smelling, dim-witted and altogether un-pleasant human thugs. They had training as body gaurds and little else. So I did as was expected by my Owner (a title he emphasized. I was not his apprentice, son or anything else. He bought me, and i was his property), and hunted for their food while he travelled from village to village, selling his magicla powers and enchanting services. When i erred in any way he saw (or imagined) I was beaten mercilessly by Jeg and Jag.

It wasn't until last year that I had ever considered escaping from my Owner. We had crossed the great sea for the first time, coming ashore in a goblin town named Ratchet. My Owner bribed our wya through the pirates that had taken hold of the Merchant Coast south of the town, and got us passage into a human fortress named Northwatch Hold.

My Owner had been hired, along with a great dela of other adventurers to assault an Orc village called the Valley of Trials. Now, something to keep in mind is that up and until this point, I'd never actually seen Orcs or Trolls upclose, my Owners fights had mainly been against the Undead in the northern reigons of Azeroth.

So at night, when my Owner and his cohorts were asleep, I would sneak my way from the keep and spy on my people from afar. But it was a troublesome task. I knew nothing of their languages, customs, or anything else! dark-skinned trolls? I'd never heard of such a thing before.And the Orcs and Taurens seemed awe-inspiring to me. So massive and strong!

Then one night, I was returning to my room before the sun rose, when a band of Horde soldiers stormed Northwatch! They slew many of its defenders, claiming their badges as some kind of trophies! In the confusion, I saw my Owner killed! And the moment that the Orcs axe sunk into his flesh, I ran like a Duskbat out of Hell, firwst towards Ratchet.

Being hiomeless, gold-less, and unexpectedly free, I tried to find anyone in Ratchet I could speak with. But the Goblins would not help someone who had no gold, and the travellers who came through were either memebers of the Alliance, who more often then not attacked me on sight, or the native Orcs, Trolls and Tauren, whose languages I could not speak.

But after a few days, a femaly Goblin took pity on me when i was beaten by a Ratchet Bruiser for trying to steal some fish to eat, and she told me in the human tongue that I should go to the Valley of Trials. She said it was where all the young warriors of the Hoirde were trained.

So I went East along the coast, until reahcing the end of the Southfury River.where it met the bay. Finally, after following several very picarious mountain paths, I came to be on a rocky hill top overlooking the Valley itself. But it was not to end well. I lost my footing and went tumbling down into a small ravine, filled with scorpids! They chittered furiously, then scampered away in fright! From a rocky outcropping came a massive red and black scorpion with one painfully mangled claw!. THe behemoth advanced towards me, and just as I climbed out it struck me in the left leg, injecting what felt like fiery magma into my veins!

The next 9 months are a complete blur to me. I awoke in the very back of the cave in the Valley of Trials. While I slept in a coma from the venom, my wound had become infected, and disease ravaged my body. While the healers at the camp worked on cleaning me, the Shaman Trainer of the village used his strange powers to instill into me the ability to speak Orcish!

So now, after nearky a year of illness and recuperation, I have started down the long path to becoming a properly-trained Hunter in service to the Horde.


Now that that is out of the way, lets press on to the other items of importance.

I do not at the moment have any professions to speak of, focusing on regaining my strength and skills. I do plan to take up Skinning however, as a source of income.

((OOC: I have been in 2 major clans on Warsong and Gururbashi Servers, Crescent Moon CLan (CMC), where I was a second-in-command, and Evolution.))

I have spoken with many other recruits in the Valley of Trials, and have also listened to the rumor mills* ((OOC: The WoW Realm Forums)) and have decided that the Ironsong Clan seems to be the kind of close-knit yet large group of people with which to begin my adventures anew.

My greates trial? Does fighting for your life for 9 months against a deadly venom-induced illness count? ((OOC: I've downed Ragnaros and up to Firemaw in BWL on other characters, as well as extensive PvP))

My greatest goal is to become a powerful hunter of the wilds, and an expert marksman. I would use these abilities to further the aims of the Horde and fight the crual and oppressive Alliance on the current and future battlefields.

My favorite part of my adventuring is meeting, and fighting besides new and interesting people. I also find alot of satiisfaction in educatiing newcomers in any way I can.

I have read the CoC and aggree with all of it wholeheartedly and without reservation.

((OOC: Ok, whew. Lets get down to bussiness here. I've played WoW since Closed Beta, and have 3 lvl 60's. A Troll Rogue on Stormscale, a NE Priest and Gnome Mage on Gururbashi , and assorted mid-30s Horde characters on other servers. But Gururbashi, in terms of social groups, is sick and falling apart, and I want to start fresh somewhere else. And since I've discovered my passion for forums-based Roleplaying, I really want to extend that into WoW..I have extensive, encyclopedic knowledge of WoW Lore, covereing every topic I can think of. I used to host online Lore-knowledge competitions for my friends. If I get accepted here, and find myself enjoying myself, I am very open to the idead of paying the $25 fee and moving my 60 Rogue (or my 36 Warrior or my 30 Druid) here for Roleplaying as well, if his services are needed. In RL< I am a college student and amateur author, so my writing, language and Roleplaying skills are quite advanced (in my opinion at least). I am very mature in my speech and actions, and love to help WoW newcomers anyway I can.))

So thats my story. Hopefully my Orcish language skills are strong enough now that you understood all that. I've been studying it dilligently.
Whoah now little man. That there is my donkey!
*Blademaster Merrina straightens slowly as she hears the insult in the newcomer's voice when he refers to the 'gibberish' some other trolls speak* Little man, you should be careful what you say. You generalize. Not all Trolls speak 'gibberish' as you refer to it. The Warlord who leads this Tribe is Troll. I wonder if you think he speaks gibberish. And our high priestess, Shillatae, is also a Troll.. I shall have to think on this. *Merrina eyes the newcomer up and down* And if you don't like your tusks, we have several in the Tribe that will be happy to remove them for you . . . . *Merrina walks away muttering about Trolls who want to be human and insult other Trolls, then glances back over her shoulder* We have gatherings once a week, 6 pm, Orgrimmar time, find us, if you think you can stand the presence of other Trolls . . .. *shakes her head and continues walking away*
I'll be there.

Ill be the first to admit I carry the baggage of my Owners, contempt, for the Horde. Prejudices not easily lost after being so heavily ingrained over the years. Nonetheless, its one of many areas I'm still working on. But in my defense, Common being my native tongue, its a huge difference learning Orcish and Troll. Orcish has many more unique sounds needed, for instance, then Common does.

But I'll shut my mouth now, before I dig myself an even deeper hole. I'm trained as a hunter after all, not a translator.
Whoah now little man. That there is my donkey!

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