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Read through all of this on my lunch break and enjoyed it very much.

The streets of Orgrimmar had emptied in the passing weeks. Warriors, hunters, shaman… any and every capable orc, troll and tauren had been summoned. With the rise of Deathwing, the Cataclysm had begun.

For Rukorah, this was both a blessing and a curse. While there were fewer guards around to disrupt her “business” it also meant there were fewer pockets to pick. And fewer pockets to pick meant that Rukorah would go hungry. She had recently taken to skulking around the Cleft of Shadow. The dregs of Orgrimmar were not so eager to go to battle and the mages and warlocks were often in possession of small magical trinkets. They could potentially be highly valuable, depending on the enchantment; managing to acquire one would mean Rukorah could keep herself fed for weeks.

The more magically inclined denizens of Orgrimmar sold their wares in a ragged looking marketplace at the centre of the Cleft of Shadow. An assortment of weary and withered orcish wizards gathered around to buy and sell. The stalls were lined with a medley of magical goods; alchemical reagents, bottles of potions, dusty old tomes, wands and staves, stacks of parchment, glittering arcane dusts, faintly glowing shards and, more importantly, jewellery.

However, today, Rukorah was stalking different prey.

He was a troll. Tall and lithe with dusty brown hair tied in a top knot. He seemed well-dressed for someone wandering the cleft, with an expensive looking dagger sheathed at his side.

What a fool, Rukorah thought with a smirk, I’m surprised he hasn’t been robbed already.

Rukorah studied her quarry from one of the higher ledges within the cleft where she had a good view of almost the entire market. She considered her next move as she watched him browse the alchemical wares on display. He seemed particularly interested in the potions, picking up each vial in turn and scrutinizing it carefully. The alchemist, a wizened orc mage with a long grey beard and balding head, would chatter excitedly about the supposed properties of the potions.

Rukorah’s stomach growled indignantly, as though urging her to make a move soon. She hadn’t eaten in days. Swiftly and silently, she began to make her descent towards the market below. There were not many people in the cleft today. Most of the warlocks and mages were a reclusive sort and rarely ventured far except to sell their services and exchange knowledge. A few dishevelled looking robed orcs and trolls were milling around the stalls. Rukorah would have preferred a bit more cover, but this would have to do. None of them seemed to notice her anyway â€" and why should they? She was a skinny little thing dressed in tattered black rags. A runt of an orc. Not worth noticing.

As quiet as a shadow, Rukorah weaved her way through the rabble until she spotted the troll again. He was inspecting some odd necklace on a warlock’s stall which glowed ominously in the dim light of the cleft

“Ah yes,” the shopkeeper began eagerly as Rukorah darted towards a small alcove in the wall nearby and crouched down. “You have good taste, troll. The one who possesses this necklace should be able to bind most minor demons to their will. Though, I wouldn’t advise attempting to control anything more powerful… we wouldn’t want any horrible accidents, now, would we?” The troll raised an eyebrow and looked quizzically at the warlock. Rukorah held her breath and surveyed the rest of the market. If anyone had noticed her, they certainly weren’t showing any signs.

“I see,” replied the troll, who placed the sinister trinket back on the stall, frowning. He had his back to her and Rukorah had the advantage of the cover provided by the nook. She began to lean forward, her heart fluttering in her chest. The dagger was within her reach. That was when she also noticed the large pouch of gold hanging from his belt. Deciding that it would be far easier to steal the gold, Rukorah took out a small knife from her pocket. In one deft movement she cut the purse from his belt. She caught it expertly in the other hand, but just as she began to turn to make her escape the troll swung around and grasped her wrist, pinning her up against the wall easily with just a single hand. Rukorah’s knife fell to the ground clattering as she grunted in pain from the impact.

The troll took the pouch of gold from her other hand and moved in closer so that his tusks were merely inches away from her face. He grinned wickedly as her eyes widened with horror. She had never been caught before.

Until now.

“Looks like I finally caught you, little cat,” he said.

This rarely happens to me, - but.. Your actual story for your character is pretty inspiring. Now don't get me wrong, but people like me who sucks at writing, yet love good stories, rarely get inspired to write. So when it happens it's usually a great story. I agree with Rhonya, with this caliber of a story I doubt you'll have any problems with RP'ing. Though obviously you might need some tips for the usual 'rules' when RP'ing. (I.e, when attacking someone it's an attempt, etc) - Tl;dr, great story.

Wow, thanks, that really means a lot. ^^; To be honest, I don't write very often but for other games that I play (usually anything that's more open world like the Elder Scrolls series) I'm always coming up with character ideas and scribbling them down.

But that's totally different from RP where you have to interact with other people in real time so it's a bit daunting for me.

Anyway, I seem to be having some weird latency problems in Battle.net (been happening for the last few days not just in WoW, having issues with Hearthstone too) and I got booted off last night whilst stealthing around the camp and kept getting stuck on loading screens.  I shall attempt my IC interview when things are a bit more stable.

Thanks for taking the time to read my application.   I'll keep an eye out for you guys when I'm online. It'll be my first time doing any kind of RP so... be gentle.

And, yup, I think if she was in the position where her loyalty was tested in that way it would be a pretty big dilemma for her. On one hand, she wants to prove herself as being just as capable, valuable and honorable as any other orc but then on the other... she considers the Shattered Hand to more or less be the only "family" she has.

Then of course you have to consider that she was a thief and although that was primarily just a method of survival for her, who knows what she would do if she was backed into a corner like that.  

EDIT: Not sure if it matters or not but I don't have any transmog yet so Rukorah is currently running around looking like some kind of Pandaria reject so... yeah. x_X I'm working on it, though.

Name: Rukorah
Class: Rogue
Level: 90

Tell us about your (role)playing experience: Absolutely... none!  In terms of RP anyway. I've been playing WoW on and off for the last 6-7 years or so. I've raided a bit but found I usually end up getting incredibly burnt out with that side of the game. I find that I'm constantly creating back stories for characters I play in single player RPGs and RPing them so figured why not do the same for WoW? I'm really keen to get involved in RP on my new rogue.

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

“Should have been drowned at birth”…

These were the last words that Rukorah had heard from her mother before she was left to die in the desert.

She had heard them from other orcs too, of course. Rukorah remembers very little of her childhood â€" it was something that she wanted to forget. She had been born small. “The runt”, she was often called as a child, but at the time her parents had bigger things to worry about. No sooner than Rukorah had been born, her family were captured by the Alliance and brought to one of their internment camps. There, Rukorah would remain until she was three years old when her people were eventually freed by Thrall. Two years later, they made their journey to Durotar with the rest of the orcs during the Third War. Rukorah stayed with her mother whilst her father, a skilled shaman, went to support the Horde forces as a healer. She never saw him again.

Free from the internment camp, Rukorah’s mother returned her attention to her daughter’s training. She was fiercely aggressive and harboured some of the more cruel (although she would consider them “traditional”) orcish values. She would often remind Rukorah that, had she been born under different circumstances, she would have been killed “along with the other sick, frail and worthless pups”.

Rukorah was presented with her first weapon at age six, her mother’s war axe, but was too weak to wield it. To her mother, this was a great dishonour. A year later, when still no progress had been made, her patience had worn thin and Rukorah was discarded into the Barrens to die.

But Rukorah survived. She got by on thievery and cunning. Like a ghost, she stalked the smaller Horde outposts, stealing food, a small knife for defence and what little amount of gold she could find. Eventually, Rukorah had enough gold to pay for the protection of a caravan travelling to Orgrimmar where there would be far more pockets to pick.

The years passed and Rukorah grew into her teens. Though she was a head shorter than an average female orc, her small size meant that it was easy for her to go unnoticed on the streets of Orgrimmar as she went about her “work”. Or so she thought. In fact, Rukorah had caught the attention of the Shattered Hand guild of assassins. Her quickness, subtlety and skill with small blades had been noted. And she was a prime target for recruitment. They purposefully sent out a guild member as a lure for Rukorah to steal from. She took the bait and was captured by the Shattered Hand. Gordul, leader of the guild, offered her a place in their ranks; a chance to redeem herself by using her skills to assist and protect the Horde. Though the Shattered Hand did not condone her thievery, they did not want to see good potential go to waste. Rukorah accepted, believing that she would finally find honour.

Gordul planned for Rukorah to become a wyvern rider. She was small and light â€" the perfect candidate for aerial reconnaissance. Of course, as a wyvern rider, Rukorah needed a mount. She was brought before a litter of cubs to select her partner. Together, they would train until the wyvern was large enough to mount. As Rukorah surveyed the cubs, there was one that caught her eye. He was much smaller than the others â€" a runt, just like her. Despite Gordul’s protests, Rukorah was adamant that this was the wyvern for her. She named him Skyshadow.

Rukorah and Skyshadow grew stronger together and became great assets to the Shattered Hand. Over four years of training, Rukorah had become more confident and served the Horde with pride. Her days as a thief were long behind her. However, this small victory was not meant to last. During a scouting mission in Ashenvale, Rukorah and Skyshadow were spotted by the night elves and swiftly came under fire. They were knocked out of the sky by a glaive from one of the elven glaive throwers which tore through Skyshadow. Though Rukorah survived the fall and was promptly taken to a healer, when she regained consciousness she learned that Skyshadow had been slain. Devastated by his death, Rukorah turned to mourning.

Rukorah was almost twenty now, but she knew very little of the world outside of the Shattered Hand and the assignments she had been given on Kalimdor. She had never been part of a true orcish tribe since she was left in the desert… and she was nearly eligible for her om’riggor. Gordul pondered this as he thought of her next mission. With the loss of Skyshadow, and currently no suitable replacement wyvern available (not that she was ready to accept a replacement anyway), it seemed the time was right to let her explore and learn more about her orcish heritage… and eventually undertake the om’riggor rite of passage. These were things that the Shattered Hand could not provide.

Eventually, he approached her with a task: to find her place within an orcish tribe and learn their ways. She would always be part of the Shattered Hand â€" but she had missed out on much during her turbulent childhood and now was a good time for her to grow further. Initially, Rukorah was reluctant. She was incredibly cautious of most other orcs due to her mistreatment as a child â€" the thought of returning to that filled her with fear. On the other hand, she was eager to prove herself so that she could finally put those memories to rest. Gordul managed to convince her that this was the right path and so Rukorah began her search for a new home…