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Topics - Trakmar

The Campfire / Visions
November 12, 2017, 05:22:44 PM
"Spirits are complicated, as they have always been. Since the days of the first Shaman, Orcs have known this best as none upon the homeworld could had the connection with them that we do. Though we revere them, always be careful for they are mischievous as often as they are helping."

It had been months since Trakmar had heard from any of the tribe. Ever since the members dwindled and the spirit link as mysteriously broken, he like the others had faded to his own path. He himself had spent his time serving the wild spirits, sacrificing, honoring them. The Legion put the world in turmoil, and so it was only natural such work was needed. At times, even the spirit of earth had answered to his sacrifices though only in faint whispers, something he had not experienced since his youth on the homeworld.

Back on Kalimdor, the wilds of which he now strangely called home he had largely remained. Winterspring had become a welcome refuge for the old orc, especially since it seemed more or less untouched by the Legion save for the odd demon. He had considered remaining here, retire as it were and focus on raising his daughter.

"Rokarna... Been months since I last saw her. At least she is safe on the homeworld."
A comforting thought. Though with the Legion invading he had not dared bring her back to Azeroth in case the world would see a similar fate to Draenor.

Trakmar sat by the fire outside his den, eating a stag he and Kyrazha had hunted. He had tried to make her join his rites and rituals, albeit with varying success, and some difficulty in the beginning. The effect of being raised by another race still sat to some degree, though he had done what he could in order to make her a more traditional orc which had worked to some success.

He looked around in their small camp, thinking. Everything appeared normal. He and his mate enjoyed the result of their hunt, as well as their companions. Lian  and Ka’rogh resting in their den and J’ror resting by the two orcs near the fire. He set his eyes on the fire again, thinking until Kyrazha broke the silence.

“Thinkin’ about them visions again, Trakmar?”  She asked, while looking at him.

Trakmar suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, looking to Kyrazha and nodding.
“It’s been months since we last saw the Tribe. The link mysteriously broke, along with the connection to the old clan’s ancestors.  What the wolf first showed me in the visions was mountains and vague figures. But now they be more clear - The Chieftain, Rhonya, Kargnar and others residing in red mountains. And a  wolf howling in pain. All I know, it shows old tribesorcs, and Stonetalon. Though  I cannot make sense of anything else.”

The old orc grunted, bothered by the visions vagueness, despite being perfectly familiar with how visions tend to be like that. After a pause he spoke again; “We should go there. Though I can’t get rid of the feeling that bad things will happen.
He looked back to the fire in contemplation, then to Kyrazha again as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Then we go. Of what use be we here in these mountains anyway? Demons invade this world and we do… What exactly? We go south. Maybe meet with Steelheart. Then you two can talk about the vagueness of spirits together instead of boring me with it!”

A snappy tongue on her as always, Trakmar thought. He grunted at what he found to be somewhat insulting to the spirits granting the visions, but nodded in agreement anyway. She was right. If Rhonya was still in the Barrens and alive, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume she’d have visions as well. Perhaps some answers too. As he spoke, he pushed himself to his feet and took his poleaxe, then looked down at Kyrazha.
“Then we had best move. Days don’t last long here this time of the year, and we be having some distance to cover.”

With her usual smirk, Kyrazha pushed herself to her feet as well, grabbing her bow and the few other belonging they had, followed shortly by Lian and the two worgs.

They put out the fire, then started wandering...

Red Blade Records / Trakmar
April 25, 2015, 06:17:41 PM

Name: Trakmar Beastbane
Alias: Old beast, Grey Wolf, Trak
Rank: Gosh'kar

Age: 55
Gender: Male
Race: Orc (Mag'har)
Clan: Earthwalker
Class: Beastmaster
Alignment: Neutral

Family: Trak'grun Grimfang and Senna Lynxclaw (Grandparents, Deceased), Tregar the Beast and Greka Spiritclaw (Parents, Deceased), Senna (Twin sister) Rokarna (Daughter), Krala (Daughter), Keishara (Mate, deceased), Sinami Swifthowl (Bloodsister), Shargla Thunderfang (Bloodsister), Revax Hellbrew (Bloodbrother), Grogona Marshfang (Bloodsister)
Known Friends: Red Blade Tribe, Shargla, Revax, Valeni
Known Enemies: Kiro Youngblood

This old Mag'har stands very tall among his kind, towering well above most Orcs, and appears to be very strong. He is most often seen in leathers and with an old and ragged large wolfpelt going down his back with the head of the wolf worn as a hood. Four large tusks sprout from his lower jaw, with the leftmost one being broken, and a large, wild and grey beard hangs from his jaw.

His face carries many scars. The right half of his face is disfigured by an old burnscar, scretching back to his right ear which looks partially melted, as well as skin having melted a bit over his eye, making it appear half-shut at all times. The left of his face seems mostly unscated, save for four scars going across it, from the upper left of his face, going down across and fading into the burnscar. Some claws decorated with runes are pierced to his ears.

His hair is mostly free, save for a braid which goes down his back. The braid is decorated with a few feathers.

His back is also covered with scars, which also streaches over his shoulders and goes down his arms. One might tell these are from lightning strikes, judging by how they look. His lower right arm also has a quite bad burnscar on the upperside, going from the elbow to the back of his hand.

Long claws sprout from his fingers and toes in place of where his nails should be. Considering the yellow colour that's stuck on them, it seems he uses these claws for at least weapons

Trakmar seems to generally be considered grumpy, racist, stubborn old bastard. And it's all true, upon first meeting at least. He is silent and observant, and others often find it hard to get through to him. Though what's under the shell is entierly different. He is very much plagued by his past, and it is not something that he will easily let people in on. Even though he dislikes how magic and technology develops as he firmly believes Orcs need neither of those, he will remind other to look forward instead of looking back, though has a hard time actually following that advise himself.

Being born before the corruption of his race, Trakmar has held an iron grip on old traditions and values. He has seen what the Orcs were before the physically weaker warlocks and mages walked among them, and is find it shaming that the Horde still allows them to stay, in spite of what Warlocks brought the race, though it oes not stop him for having some mild respect for just a few mages.

He respects those that can pull their own weight and survive on their own, an ability he puts much more value in than strength or honor. To him, strength is irrelevant as long as one can pull his own weight, and hold his own without magic. Honour is something he simply doesn't care about, seeing as everyone uses it as an excuse to do anything, and everyone has different opinions on what is honourable. Instead, he just does what he feels -should- be done instead of having some code enabling him, or preventing him.

Trakmar escaped the blood pact with his clan inFrostfire Ridge, having bigger issues with the Ogre clans in the area around his village. The Ogres launched an attack and sacked the village, leaving a few lucky ones, including Trakmar and his sister, Senna alive. Trakmar went into exile after the clans downfall, ashamned and blaming himself, while his sister took the survivors to Garadar. He wandered the remnants of Draenor for many years before finally going to Garadar, shortly after the Portal had reopened. First treating the newcomers with distrust, he got a growing interest in them after he heard of the Horde on Azeroth and their history - Especially Grommash Hellscream slaying Mannoroth. After the efforts on Draenor ended, he waited a while before finally deciding to enter this brave new world, only a couple of weeks before the efforts in Northrend started. He arrived in Orgrimmar, then joined the voyage to Northrend, joining the Warsong Expedition to the Grizzly Hills. Eventually, he grew fond of the wildlife and returned to the wilderness, rather wandering and helping different bases he came across.
When the Cataclysm hit, Trakmar joined the war in the Southern Barrens, but grew tired of the constant war as he again heard the call of the wild. A third time he went to wander in solitude alongside his lynx, Bamak, until he eventually came across the Red Blade tribe in Tanaris.

Things you may know about this character:
-Dislikes most young orcs of the present day, as so many of them prove to be aroogant, gloryseeking puppies.
-Has a half-draenei bastard daughter
-Has great dislike for alcohol
-Finds more comfort in the company of animals, rather than that of orcs
-Hates ogres to the point where he might just slaughter them on sight
-Firm believer that the Orcs are superior to other races

Things you may not know about this character:
-Like his clan was before, he is a cannibal when need be. Though claims to no longer practice it.
-Dislikes kittens

Memorable Quotes:
"Ghrm?" - Trakmar's way of saying "What?"
*Snort/grunt* - Often heard when he disapproves

Other Information:
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Spoiler: Gallery • show

Include more pictures of your character here, with IMG tags.
The Campfire / Home...
November 22, 2014, 04:30:25 PM
The dust from the portal's destruction setteled as Trakmar woke up and and looked around. He couldn't have been out cold long, but long enough to be separated from the others. Seeing the large number of Iron Horde forces at the docks, he guessed his allies must have run for the ships. "Good... seems i' be time t'go". He rose to his feet and coughed, then pulled his two companions on their feet, the wolf Gra'dak and the lynx, Bamak. A broad smile was on Trakmar's face as the seemed to be in good health. They ran the opposite way of the docks, through the flooded Blackrock forge and into the jungle. Little was unfamiliar. The old Orc had spent much time here before, and the memory of the jungle wasn't gone.

He made his way to the coast, then turned west, following the coastline. A few days later, he had come into Gorgrond. The smell of both forest and wasteland alike was a blessing. He made his way up to the land, into the lush jungle. Ravagers and giant wasps stalking the wilds, while the screams of what sounded like tortured orcs filled the air. The old Orc looked around for an familiar signs that could tell him where he was, and tell him which direction is which. Not east, seeing the place was covered with trees. And to add on it, he was ambushed by Orcs! Pale skin and the left hand replaced with crude blades.

"Bah, t'slaves come t'fight?! Come at me, Shattared Hand runts!" yelled the old Orc. A bit overconfidently too, not considering most of these Orcs had likely fought a lifetime in arenas.  And there was three of them. Trakmar raised his axe and turned to the first Orc leaping at him. He gave the Orc a kick to the chest, sendhim him back and landing hard on the ground. Then Bamak and Gra'dak made quick work of him. The two other Orcs leaped at the beasts, killing them quickly in return. "NO! Y'two will pay f' t'a, slaves.!"

Trakmar let out a roar at the two Orcs, then ran at them, striking, trying to cut them down, but they easily evaded his strikes, then made quick strikes on him, making one small gash at a time each in the older, larger Orcs flesh. And the bloodlust started taking effect as well, a feeling he hadn't felt for many years. He struck at the large of the two Shattared Hand Orcs, but the pale orc parried the strike, breaking the axe. Then, Trakmar lunged at the Orc, took hold of him and bit his throat out. Seeing this, the other Orc ran off.

Trakmar looked at the running Orc, then snorted. "Coward". He looked to Gra'dak and Bamak again. Gra'dak was dead, but Bamak seemed alive, though struggling to do so. With a worn sigh, Trakmar took his knife, then knelt down next to the lynx, running his hand through his mane before stabbing the heart, putting the beast out of its suffering. "Hunt well on t' eternal plains, brothers..."

Trakmar raised his head again to look around, then up to the mountain range where he saw familiar spired of volcanic rock. "Frostfire Ridge... Home..."

The old Orc got on his feet, then lifted the two beasts over his shoulders and started walking slowly to the frozen wastes...
Game Related / Spy
April 12, 2014, 11:56:41 AM
Hello! Seeing we've had a bit of fun lately with that Alliance guy in Terokkar, I thought it would be nice if I told about this AddOn: Spy

Whenever a nearby character of the opposite faction gets close, he's going to show up on the Spy interface, and try to determine class and level based on what ability was used.

To add on it, if a stealther is nearby, you'll get a blue bar on top of your screen with name, class and level of the stealther from the two second he might've been visible.
A stag stood grazing in Ashenvale, not too far from the Lumber Camp the Rebellion now called their base. In the nearby bushes hid the Mag'hari Orc, waiting for just the right moment  to take it down.

He started crawling out of the bushes, silently, and licking his lips like a hungry wolf. If it would just stay for a few more seconds...

A loud, but half-hearted howl could suddenly be heard in the distance! The stag raised its head, startled, and saw the Orc who was just moments away from killing it. He roared out in frustration, and slammed a fist on the ground. Seem the stag had luck on his side.

(( More of Trakmar's stories and throughts will be posted here. ))
The Campfire / A Chieftain's promise
March 07, 2013, 10:25:33 PM
Crawling in the high grass, Trakmar watched a clan of Ogres. One he was well familiar with. It was the clan of ogres that once feared the Earthwalker Clan. The Rockskull clan. Most stayed within Blade's Edge, but after most Orcs left, they were free to move around. Pillaging and destroying whatever they saw. Nothing but a sorry bunch of Ogres. And this was just a small portion of the clan.

Trakmar slowly crawled closer on to a hill overlooking the mound. He watched the Ogres, to see if he could make a route in. He intended to kill them all except for one. Make sure they their warlord got the message.

He started climbing down into the mound as silent as he could. When he got down he remained low and watched his surroundings, making sure he was not seen. He spotted a lone watcher, picked up a rock and threw it at him to get his attention. When the Ogre got close, Trakmar leaped at him, and cut over his throat with his axe, making a loud "THUMP" as the body landed on the ground.

"So much fer bein' silent. Guess I'll have t'make a different approach."

Trakmar looked over the mound, then spotted Bamak, who was ready to pounce an approaching ogre at any moment. Bamak growled, getting the attention of a nearby Ogres, who quickly got some teeth into this throat when getting too close. Upon hearing another loud thump, the Ogres was distracted again, all five of them going toward te second corpse. Taking the oppertunity, Trakmar ran at them, the two first Ogres he got to got some axes into the backs of their heads, whereas a third one was decapitated. Bamak tore the stomach of the fourth Ogre open and left him to bleed out. The last one got his legs severely cut, and fell over.

Trakmar approached the last living Ogre and placed his right axe against the fattys throat, and stared straight into his eyes.

"Yer Warlord, Ogre. Where in the face is he?"

The Ogre pointed at the mouth of the cave , fearing for his life.

"Warlord in da cave! Mean Orc go far into cave and find him!"

Trakmar nodded and walked toward the cave as Bamak made quick work of the Ogred, clawing out his throat.

As they entered the cave, they saw more Ogre corpses. And Orc corpses, no doubt some had tried to put these ones down before. As there wasen't many Ogres left, this could be easier than Trakmar initially though.

He picked up a rock and tossed it against the cave wall, followed by some heavy footsteps. Trakmar saw the Ogre right around the corner, and waited a few seconds before jumping from the corner and send his axe straight to the Ogres face, killing it instantly. Seeing he had no other way out, and more Ogres had heard their friend thumping onto the ground. He threw the axe in his left hand at the first Ogre, getting is nicely stuck in his shoulder. The next Ogre, Bamak made sure didn't get to strike, where as a third one managed to slam Trakmar to the cave wall. Roaring, Bamak leadped onto the Ogre and bit its neck.

Having slain the Ogres, Trakmar picked up his axe again and and walked further into the cave, Bamak walking at his side. With a roar, Trakmar ran at the Warlord who knocked Trakmar against the cave wall, then grabbed his throat and lifted him up.

"Wat little Orc want? Puny we--"

With a roar, Bamak was leaping at the Warlord, who was met with a plated fist, knocking the lynx out as quick as he came. Then, the Warlord threw Trakmar against another wall, and picked up a large maul, as he slowly approached the Orc.

"You familiar. Me saw you in Blade's Edge. Destroyed the clan of weak orcs. Caged da Chief."

With a smirk, Trakmar replied:
"Aye. Good ye were kind enough t'leave the Chieftain alive t'see his clanmates get slaughtered. Nice of ye t'leave a few alive."

Laughing, the Ogre raises his axe, and as he was about to chop Trakmar, he suddenly roared out, as he got two arrows in his back. He turned towards the direction the arrows came from, and saw an Orc behind himself. A female Mag'hari Orc by the looks of it.

"-I- be the ONLY orc allowed to beat my brother to a bloody pulp, Ogre!"

She fire two more arrows at the Ogres left leg, causing him to tremble, and lay down, breaking the arrows on his back and pushing what's left of them further in. Being left defenseless, Trakmar quickly drawed his knife and placed it agains the Ogres throat, starting into his eyes as he gave a warning.

"Ye go back to Blade's Edge and tell yer Chieftain that the biggest mistake he did was leaving some of my clanmates alive. As long as i'm alive, the Earthwalker Clan still see me as their Chieftain. We be few left, but we are be a strong pack. The remaining once thirst fer Ogre blood, and wants to wipe yer clan out. Go back t' Blade's Edge and tell yer Chieftain that the clan he used t'fear still lives. And he has a score t'settle."

The Ogre pushed Trakmar away, ridden with fear. He got himself up and in a hurry, limped out of the cave. Senna took hold of Trakmar's shoulder and looked at him.

"You do realise the he is not likely to make the trip back, no? He'll likely get killed on the way."

Trakmar shrugged his sisters hand off and started walked out, Bamak and Senna following behind.

"Pah, don't think I care fer that sister. Send word to where the remnants of my Clan. We're headin' out t'slay these Ogres. We'll either slaughter them all, or die trying.

Senna smirked, seeing her brothers old spirit coming back to life.

"Always fierce. And with bestial instinct, as I remember you, Brother. We'll make sure every Ogre knows the name of our clan. And we'll make sure they fear it."
The Campfire / Bound by Honour
January 15, 2013, 06:18:11 PM
Trakmar sat on the side of the ship, deep in thought. Turning his back on the Horde had left an impact on him. They offered shelter when his kin was nearly extinct. A troubled look has been on his face for the past few days, since he decided to stay with the Tribe, rather then the Horde. Perhaps he made the wrong choice? After all, Garrosh is his own kin, and while he has said Garrosh is dead to him, did he believe it himself?

He looks out at the ocean in the night, then suddenly lunges forward to the side of the ship, throwing up. He is obviously no seadog.

"Egh, damn this ocean..."

He sat down again, snorting as he wipes his mouth and drinks some water, and his troubled expression comes back. He thought back to the days in Garadar, where he and his clan had been welcomed with open arms. Such hospitality is rare among Orcs these days.

Having helped the Mag'har for so many years, and serving under Garrosh even back then, he was only left with a sickly feeling. He had made an oath to never turn his back on his leader. A promise now broken. Trakmar is bound by honour to Garrosh, like any other Mag'har. He tilted his head backwards, looking at the star-filled sky. Not a cloud was near, and there was a calm breeze, just as he remembers Nagrand.

Turning m'back on what I had sworn ter protect...

Trakmar knew of the atrocities. He knew that Garrosh's newly sprung Warrior spirit could get in the way of doing what is right. Then again, if he truly sees it as right, is it wrong? This new world brought oppertunities. A new life. A time for Orcs to become what they once were was Trakmar's dream. Seeing them return to their shamanistic heritage. By now, that all seems long gone.

Trakmar shook his head, and got onto his feet, grunting. He went down below deck, the snoring of the other Orcs strangely giving a secure feeling, dispite some of the Orcs sounding like a Goblin shredder. He sat down on a bench close to his mate and looked at her, all the thoughts still running through his head.

Was it worth it? He stood by the Horde in Northrend, and later aiding the Horde in the war during the Cataclysm. Serving well, and now a traitor.

Traitor means you're honourless. You've stepped on what you made an oath to. Was the whole tribe now just a bunch of honourless whelps? Thinking this, Trakmar softly places a hand on his mate's stomach, a faint smile slowly forming on his lips, and speaks with a hushed voice, to not wake anyone up.

Hrm, maybe it'll be like old times? The tribe be on its own now, like the Clans once were.

It be what I've been after fer so long...

He took his hand off Keishara, then went back up onto the deck, again sitting down by the side of the ship. He looked up at the sky again, grunting.

"Maybe we be better off this way... Dispite how treacherous we be..."

With that, he went back to thinking, pondering what to do next. Conflicted whether he should be staying with the Tribe or the Horde.
Game Related / World server and Grog giving birth.
January 12, 2013, 11:33:51 PM
Just as Grog's water broke, world server went down. Seems it coulden't handle the awesome.
Game Related / Hello!
November 23, 2012, 07:31:44 PM
After a storm here, I am currently at a lack of good internet. So, I won't be online much until this is fixed.

- Trakmar
Off Topic / PETA going rediculous.
October 09, 2012, 07:00:40 PM

The title should be able to speak for itself.