08-15-2006, 07:19 AM
I am Volion, an Orc Hunter in the 7th season. I am Slayer of Sarkoth, Finder of the Burning Medallion, and Bane of Warlord Kolkanis.
I barely have a history as an Orc. I was carried away to Alliance lands as war-spoil by a human that had, I suppose, sacked my home and killed my family. This beast tethered me and paraded me around everywhere she travelled as a joke to her comrades. She would cast fire spells upon me at times to amuse her tavern mates with my suffering. This caught the attention of a noble Druid one evening. Although Alliance, he was disgusted by such behavior and challenged my captor to a duel with the victor retaining me as the prize.
It was a short battle. I even managed to secure a bloodied scrap of the cowards' robe as she fled out of the tavern.
My Night-Elf savior was noble and strong, but not so foolish as to raise an Orc bull. We left immediately and head under cover of darkness to Horde territory. We travelled slowly, and he spoke of many things along the way. He taught me of honor, of the seasons of the Earth, of the Balance, and of the Burning Legion and how enemies are not always who we think they are. He even tried to teach me a few Druid spells, and my fingertips still bear the blackened scars of such folly. These scars have given me durable fingers for the bow, however.
He left me at the entrance to the Valley of trials. Before leaving, he took the bloodied memento of my former captor and enchanted it, so as to summon a zergling. His last words to me before leaving were to always consider those weaker and those in my charge. He would return to defeat me as he had that Human if called for.
He is the only Father I knew, and I am not ashamed of where my path has taken me.
I have had no time to consider a profession, but I will assuredly become an Artisan Cook, Fisherman, and Wound-Binder. It is the fool that does not learn to bandage their own wounds.
I am new to this land and have not even been to the Mother-City of Orgrimmar. I have had little interaction with any others, but for inviting a Troll to share the killing of the Warlock that had stolen the Burning Medallion. I seek to join the Ironsong Clan because it appears to know it's path, and is ruled by Law. I hope to see that it is ruled firmly and fairly by it's Warchief.
My greatest challenge was taking the life of the Warlord Kolkanis. I was bloodied and wounded having just defeated one of his craven guard. He appeared from behind his tent, but did not seem to notice me. I nocked an arrow and carefully stepped back to mend myself. At the moment my health returned, I fired a Scorpid Sting and watched the venom do it's work. I followed up with a few more arrows as he closed for our grim contest, drawing my axe to receive his charge. Upon closing, Warlord Kolkanis immediately stunned me with a blast of electrical energy that slowed my attack and muddied my thoughts. Despite my earlier advantage of firing at distance, my own condition was soon no better than my adversaries. Up to our meeting, I had already slain many of his minions with no effort. I am not shamed to say that I know why Kolkanis is Warlord. He quickly brought my health down, while I only managed to do small damage to him with my axe. I considered retreat for a moment, spin-shooting him as I moved, but knew I could not get to bow range without taking more blows. We fought on, both of us on the verge of death, when I finally pulled a small red bottle from my pack and gulped it's contents. The liquid burned in a good way, and I felt a surge of vigor within my blood within a moment. I also saw fear within the eyes of the Warlord, but he did not run.
He died a good death, and I am proud to wear his cloak as a trophy.
My current goal is to learn pet-taming, and then to tame this "Rake" that I have heard of. He will be my peerless minion, and I his good Master. While there I also wish to see this city of cattle of which I have heard. I have not yet seen a Tauren, and am interested in their females. Is it right to call their females "cows"? I do not know this.
Sometimes I dream strangely. I have visions of being a mighty Dwarven Hunter, of running as a powerful Night Elf Druid, and even being a Priestess once charge of a powerful guild in distant lands... When I awake, I shake the scorpids from my boots and simply seek adventure, unfettered with such concerns. I seek to learn this new homeland and find good fellowship among worthy companions. This is what I enjoy.
I have read the totem and will obey it's message.
I barely have a history as an Orc. I was carried away to Alliance lands as war-spoil by a human that had, I suppose, sacked my home and killed my family. This beast tethered me and paraded me around everywhere she travelled as a joke to her comrades. She would cast fire spells upon me at times to amuse her tavern mates with my suffering. This caught the attention of a noble Druid one evening. Although Alliance, he was disgusted by such behavior and challenged my captor to a duel with the victor retaining me as the prize.
It was a short battle. I even managed to secure a bloodied scrap of the cowards' robe as she fled out of the tavern.
My Night-Elf savior was noble and strong, but not so foolish as to raise an Orc bull. We left immediately and head under cover of darkness to Horde territory. We travelled slowly, and he spoke of many things along the way. He taught me of honor, of the seasons of the Earth, of the Balance, and of the Burning Legion and how enemies are not always who we think they are. He even tried to teach me a few Druid spells, and my fingertips still bear the blackened scars of such folly. These scars have given me durable fingers for the bow, however.
He left me at the entrance to the Valley of trials. Before leaving, he took the bloodied memento of my former captor and enchanted it, so as to summon a zergling. His last words to me before leaving were to always consider those weaker and those in my charge. He would return to defeat me as he had that Human if called for.
He is the only Father I knew, and I am not ashamed of where my path has taken me.
I have had no time to consider a profession, but I will assuredly become an Artisan Cook, Fisherman, and Wound-Binder. It is the fool that does not learn to bandage their own wounds.
I am new to this land and have not even been to the Mother-City of Orgrimmar. I have had little interaction with any others, but for inviting a Troll to share the killing of the Warlock that had stolen the Burning Medallion. I seek to join the Ironsong Clan because it appears to know it's path, and is ruled by Law. I hope to see that it is ruled firmly and fairly by it's Warchief.
My greatest challenge was taking the life of the Warlord Kolkanis. I was bloodied and wounded having just defeated one of his craven guard. He appeared from behind his tent, but did not seem to notice me. I nocked an arrow and carefully stepped back to mend myself. At the moment my health returned, I fired a Scorpid Sting and watched the venom do it's work. I followed up with a few more arrows as he closed for our grim contest, drawing my axe to receive his charge. Upon closing, Warlord Kolkanis immediately stunned me with a blast of electrical energy that slowed my attack and muddied my thoughts. Despite my earlier advantage of firing at distance, my own condition was soon no better than my adversaries. Up to our meeting, I had already slain many of his minions with no effort. I am not shamed to say that I know why Kolkanis is Warlord. He quickly brought my health down, while I only managed to do small damage to him with my axe. I considered retreat for a moment, spin-shooting him as I moved, but knew I could not get to bow range without taking more blows. We fought on, both of us on the verge of death, when I finally pulled a small red bottle from my pack and gulped it's contents. The liquid burned in a good way, and I felt a surge of vigor within my blood within a moment. I also saw fear within the eyes of the Warlord, but he did not run.
He died a good death, and I am proud to wear his cloak as a trophy.
My current goal is to learn pet-taming, and then to tame this "Rake" that I have heard of. He will be my peerless minion, and I his good Master. While there I also wish to see this city of cattle of which I have heard. I have not yet seen a Tauren, and am interested in their females. Is it right to call their females "cows"? I do not know this.
Sometimes I dream strangely. I have visions of being a mighty Dwarven Hunter, of running as a powerful Night Elf Druid, and even being a Priestess once charge of a powerful guild in distant lands... When I awake, I shake the scorpids from my boots and simply seek adventure, unfettered with such concerns. I seek to learn this new homeland and find good fellowship among worthy companions. This is what I enjoy.
I have read the totem and will obey it's message.