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Messages - Abgaal

#1
Applications / Application: Abgaal
August 04, 2014, 09:12:38 PM
Name: Abgaal
Class: Hunter
Level: 88

I have been a roleplayer since I was about 12 (pushing 35 now), and have played a fair share of RPG since, mainly focused on D&D, VtM, Rolemaster (memory lane for some of you I bet), Shadowrun and many others. I have also been doing a lot of fantasy LARP when I was younger, as well as VtM LARP. Roleplaying has been a big part of my life, and will be until I drop dead.

I have always had a soft spot for Orcs in WC, ever since I played WC1 when it was released. Blizzard's take on Orcs are just spot on. I love them, and most of my time in WOW over the years has been spent on an Orc Shaman (started on Warsong, then moved to Neptulon). I have been away for a few years, and am now hoping to get back into a nice RP-guild such as your's.

As far as the gaming goes, I will be on pretty often, with the reservation of me having to handle the kids now and then. I guess I'd be called a casual gamer, with active streaks.

If you will have me, I will be playing a semi-depressed hunter, who has been in the wilds for too long. The story goes (let me know if you want me to change anything lore-wise):

*
The ancient tattered banner snapped in the cold wind, as the gravel it was planted in crunched under  weary old feet. The old orc stopped and looked up towards the ever-shifting skies of Draenor, absently patting his old wolf behind the ear. Garm, as the wolf was named, had been his only companion through the long and lonely years on Draenor. Named after the last leader of his clan, the Thunderlord Clan, Garm was a memory of times past. When his clan, renown for it's wolf rider Raiders, was at it's peak, before the rise of the hated Nerzul.

Now, Abgaal was all that was left of the Thunderlords, as far as he knew. The survivors of Nerzul's treason had drank demon blood and had become Fel Orcs. He had been young when members of the Blackrock Clan had taken him and hid him from the extermination of the Thunderlords. Why? He never knew, but it was said that the Blackrock Clan had a strong friendship with the Thunderlords. He had been living of the land ever since, high among the peaks of the Blade's Edge Mountains, scraping a meager existence from whatever wild life his arrows found. Survival was tough, but the looming shame of uselessness was greater.

Most of his life had been spent in the mountains, hunting animals. But Abgaal had still remembered the old days, the days of his youth, when he rode across the plains with his brothers and sisters, raiding and killing, spreading the fear of the Wolf and drinking the blood of enemies. The old orc had all but settled with the thought of a lonely silent death in the arid peaks, when the Dark Portal was re-opened. War came anew, and with it came various warring factions. Abgaal cautiously stalked the newcomers, in order to try to sift out their intentions as well as capacity, for many moons.

The Alliance, as they were called, reminded him of the weak humans he had seen dragged through the portal during the First War, now coupled with puny elves and dwarf-gnomes, or whatever the knee-high runts were called. Politicians, sweet-talkers and soft-skinned. The Horde on the other side, seemed to be led by his kind, the orcs. There he had found familiarity.

Abgaal had seen his chance, and sought out his kine who had taken up residence in his clan's old home in the mountains. These orcs were different, belonging to the new Horde, under Thrall and then Garrosh. He was pressed hard into service, as his knowledge of the mountains was vast. After a few years of service at Thunderlord stronghold, Abgaal was freed of his bonds, and he set out to find a proper clan, a clan with which he could roam further, and earn a honorable death. Such a death would await him in Azeroth, past the Dark Portal. There he would find a clan to join, a clan who would accept him and let him bleed by their side.

He snapped out of his remembrance, as the old Thunderlord banner slowly fell to the ground and lay still on the ground. Symbolic, he mused, as he stepped through the Dark Portal, into a world he had never seen before.

Blood and Thunder!