Name: Steve / Sky Feralbane
Level: 42
Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:
Have been RPing on WoW since Vanilla WoW. I started on Moonglade and moved over to Argent Dawn about a year ago where I RP'ed a Blood Elf in a guild named the Phoenixstriders. Have pretty much tried RPing everything from Civilian Humans to Psychopathic Trolls
And finally, please write a short story and/or (IC) introduction about your character:
Sky Feralbane
Sky, he took the name himself at a young age - it was where he always knew he'd end up, atop the back of a Rylak riding into glorious combat or raining down death upon some great beast in a hunt. Though truthfully it's been many, many years since then. He took his share of glory in his younger days, rolls the dice against death more times than he could count and while initially surviving those close encounters were something to toast about over a fire alongside his clan, those days have long passed.
The Rylak, a loyal and savage beast when broken. But when wild they're a dangerous foe - cunning and vicious. He's tamed more than he can remember over his life but like any beast used for war their own lifespan is short. He reaches his wrinkled hand up to grasp the rusty iron chain around his beasts left head. The left was always more gentle, if such a word could even be used for a Rylak. Age has slowed him down, and given his body an unnatural shake - so much so a few years back he had to abandon his trusty longbow in favour of a blackpowder rifle. Even with the chance some nights he struggled to get the shots loaded. Tonight was a good night, the shakes were calmed and he stowed the rifle on the beasts back as he mounted it. The only place he really felt alive anymore was when he was in the air, soaring through the clouds and tracking the herds movement. Tonight they were hunting a herd of Clefthoof and he'd had his eye on a large male for a week now. The Clan would be following on their wolves but as the Rylak Rider it was his job to keep them going in the right direction. The Clefthoof had stopped at a river to drink, it was as good a place as any to strike. With a firm kick of his heels the Rylak beneath him flapped it's wings in against it's body and dove. The beast crashed into the side of the large Clefthood, rending the flesh and fur with both mouths. The herd spooked but the howling of the wolves was loud by now, they could smell the blood and were bringing in a dozen more hunters ready to finish the hunt.
The clefthoof was bigger than he first suspected, maybe his age had finally started to effect his eyesight? Did he swoop at the right angle? Did he pull back too soon? ... it didn't matter, they were all dead now and being skinned by the younger Orcs. The Rylak had not come out so well, the wings were torn, and a limb was broken. It would serve as little more than a pet now. Or it wouldn't. Sky pressed the barrel of his rifle to his beasts chest and rested his finger on the trigger. "Rest now, you've done me proud" he whispered as he pulled the trigger... The Warchief had called his clan to help fight the Lightbound and he would first have to make the climb up Frostfire Ridge once again to tame another Rylak, though perhaps this time the Rylak would get the better of him and let him take his final rest instead.
Level: 42
Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:
Have been RPing on WoW since Vanilla WoW. I started on Moonglade and moved over to Argent Dawn about a year ago where I RP'ed a Blood Elf in a guild named the Phoenixstriders. Have pretty much tried RPing everything from Civilian Humans to Psychopathic Trolls
And finally, please write a short story and/or (IC) introduction about your character:
Sky Feralbane
Sky, he took the name himself at a young age - it was where he always knew he'd end up, atop the back of a Rylak riding into glorious combat or raining down death upon some great beast in a hunt. Though truthfully it's been many, many years since then. He took his share of glory in his younger days, rolls the dice against death more times than he could count and while initially surviving those close encounters were something to toast about over a fire alongside his clan, those days have long passed.
The Rylak, a loyal and savage beast when broken. But when wild they're a dangerous foe - cunning and vicious. He's tamed more than he can remember over his life but like any beast used for war their own lifespan is short. He reaches his wrinkled hand up to grasp the rusty iron chain around his beasts left head. The left was always more gentle, if such a word could even be used for a Rylak. Age has slowed him down, and given his body an unnatural shake - so much so a few years back he had to abandon his trusty longbow in favour of a blackpowder rifle. Even with the chance some nights he struggled to get the shots loaded. Tonight was a good night, the shakes were calmed and he stowed the rifle on the beasts back as he mounted it. The only place he really felt alive anymore was when he was in the air, soaring through the clouds and tracking the herds movement. Tonight they were hunting a herd of Clefthoof and he'd had his eye on a large male for a week now. The Clan would be following on their wolves but as the Rylak Rider it was his job to keep them going in the right direction. The Clefthoof had stopped at a river to drink, it was as good a place as any to strike. With a firm kick of his heels the Rylak beneath him flapped it's wings in against it's body and dove. The beast crashed into the side of the large Clefthood, rending the flesh and fur with both mouths. The herd spooked but the howling of the wolves was loud by now, they could smell the blood and were bringing in a dozen more hunters ready to finish the hunt.
The clefthoof was bigger than he first suspected, maybe his age had finally started to effect his eyesight? Did he swoop at the right angle? Did he pull back too soon? ... it didn't matter, they were all dead now and being skinned by the younger Orcs. The Rylak had not come out so well, the wings were torn, and a limb was broken. It would serve as little more than a pet now. Or it wouldn't. Sky pressed the barrel of his rifle to his beasts chest and rested his finger on the trigger. "Rest now, you've done me proud" he whispered as he pulled the trigger... The Warchief had called his clan to help fight the Lightbound and he would first have to make the climb up Frostfire Ridge once again to tame another Rylak, though perhaps this time the Rylak would get the better of him and let him take his final rest instead.