Orcs of the Red Blade

 

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Topics - Nakobu

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1
The Campfire / Heart and Soul
« on: April 10, 2020, 06:53:42 PM »

A gentle wind blows calmly through the autumn air, small crystalline decorations swaying with its movement, chiming softly for the ears of two kneeling before a grand shrine. A mag'hari boy and an old draenei.

Before them at the base of the shrine lies a depiction. A depiction of the fabled Ata'mal crystal being broken into seven shining shards and soaring off into the open skies, streaks of their coloured light behind them. The depiction symbolising a flight from a world many, many millennia ago.

Above the shrine's base towers a tablet of etched names, a list of those whom never managed to escape on that flight to safety. The sun had past its zenith, the angle of light casting a shadow over the draenei's sombre expression as he focuses on a name etched near to the bottom of the tablet. 'Shaala'.

The mag'hari boy squints from the intensity of the sun's rays as he turns to looks up to the draenei, studying his face. His face was wrinkled, the corners of his mouth pulled into a depressive frown as he sits in contemplation, his eyes dull and unmoving. His heart, heavy.

The boy's expression begins to turn worried, his small hand reaching up to grip onto the draenei's sleeve. “G-Grandfather..?” The draenei turns his head at the name, his gaze moving down to the boy next to him. Slowly, the light returns to the old one's eyes, chasing away the darkness that veiled them. He smiles warmly, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair.

“Do not look so worried, Nakobu. Everything is all right. It is just being here, remembering her... Remembering our good times before. It is on these days where the feeling of being without her weighs especially heavy. You will...” Vedaan trails off slightly, looking down at Nakobu's confused expression, the boy trying to work out the meaning behind his grandfather's words. He exhales slowly and smirks, shaking his head. “One day, when you have found one to give your heart and soul, you will not look so confused at me, my dear boy.”

Nakobu blinks a bit, only looking more confused. “My... heart and soul? But to who..?”

Vedaan chuckles softly before responding. “I cannot tell you such, Nakobu. But the Light has destined for you someone, somewhere. Just as it did for me long ago. I am certain of that. You just need to find her.”

Vedaan grins, leaning in closer to Nakobu to speak in a low, teasing manner. “Perhaps we will come across her in our travels, hm? Do not worry, I will not tell her too many stories of when you were younger, or get in your way.”

“Wh-.. W-What do you mean?!” Nakobu's face turns a shade of red as he jumps up from his spot, embarrassed. He pouts at his grandfather before turning away in a huff.

Vedaan laughs heartily, his previous melancholy all but gone. He pats Nakobu firmly on the back as he rises up to stand from his kneeling position. “Forgive me, my dear boy! Come now, let us go home.”




Nakobu smiles at the memory, heaving up the remainder of cut up talbuk into his arms to take over to the hut turned makeshift smoke-house. He looks over to Meri sitting on the pier as he walks, beautifully illuminated by the moonlit night. Though did she look... upset, just now? He stops, his face flashing with worry, but she soon waves to him with a wide, warm smile. He smiles back,  returning the best wave he could with the talbuk meat still in his arms. Perhaps he was just getting overly worried. It wouldn't be the first time, and surely it won't be the last knowing himself. Nakobu shakes his head a little, walking off into the smoke-house to begin hanging up the cured meat - part of the spoils of the hunt that they had triumphed over the day before. The hunt they had bested together.

Years later, he's finally come to understand his grandfather's words that day. His state in remembering the one he himself had held closest. Meri had been the first to believe in him - wholly, completely. To place in him her unwavering trust. To support him with her strength when he stumbled – even when that stumbling is perhaps far too often. She had filled in him a hole that he did not even realise that he had. A pit of deep loneliness. Of isolation. An empty heart.

He had found her. He had found the one that he would not only give his heart and soul, but everything that he was. Everything, that he would one day be.


2
Game Related / Character Voices
« on: March 31, 2020, 01:18:25 PM »
Hey orcs! We've spoken about our characters' voices a few times in Discord, but I thought to myself: "Why not make a permanent thread on the site like we do the IC opinions of other orcs?". So that is exactly what I did, as you can plainly see! I'm sure our orcs all have slight (or major!) differences from the standard orc and mag'har voiceovers in-game, so this is the place to share those! Whether it's just a description of how you imagine the voice to be, or a reference to a real life person, in-game NPC or character from another bit of media, feel free to state it in here. I'll start us off with Nakobu!

Nakobu:
Having been raised within draenei society upon Draenor since he was practically a newborn, Nakobu has developed quite the heavy draenic accent - something that is very obvious and apparent whenever he speaks the Orcish or Common tongue. Thus, Nakobu slows down his speech somewhat when he speaks such langauges, aiming to make himself more easily understood by most. Due to his orcish vocal chords, Nakobu's voice sounds a bit lower than perhaps your average draenei's.

Grand Artificer Romuul from Legion gives a good idea of what comes to mind when I think about how Nakobu speaks:

3
The Campfire / Everything Will Be All Right
« on: July 11, 2019, 06:57:45 PM »
The waters of the cool Zangar Sea laps against the small boat as it gently moves through the dark of night, its lilac sails fluttering slightly in the wind. In the distance lies Shattrath City, the jewel of civilisation on Draenor, shining like a beacon for the vessel, guiding it homeward.

“Our path is one of compassion. We do not take up arms in anger or fear, but in the defence of others. We do not ignore a plea for help, we do not ignore a call for mercy. Always do we extend our hand to those in need. And if one is willing to change from their path of darkness, never do we shun. … Are you listening, Nakobu?”

A young mag'har sits near the prow of the ship, his hands aglow as he levitates a small wooden crate in front of him, the sides marked with the crest of the Frostwolf clan. His eyes are fixed upon the crate, carefully maintaining the spell.

“Of course, grandfather. When do I not listen to what you say?”

The aged draenei smirks at the boy's words, shaking his head. Even by draenei standards Vedaan looked old, grey hair having taken much of his natural brown away from him. His skin was wrinkled and worn, his eyes belonging to one whom had seen much in his time.

“How about fifteen minutes ago when I told you to give your practising a rest for the night, hm? Come, sit with me.”

Nakobu releases his spell, the crate falling and landing with a loud thud upon the wooden deck. The young mag'har winces at the sound, slowly turning to sheepishly peer at his grandfather. “...Sorry.” Nakobu glances back down at the luckily undamaged crate, before running to the back of the ship. He takes a seat next to his grandfather, looking up at him.

“Now then. As I was saying my dear boy, you will come across those that need aid. They may ask for your help, they may not. If they do, then you must never turn your back upon them. The path to righteousness is never an easy road travelled, Nakobu. However, that does not mean we can shy away from the task, hm?”

Nakobu keeps staring upwards at his grandfather's face as he speaks, the mag'har clearly in thought. After a few moments, he responds.

“But... what if they do not want my help? What if they need help... but they turn me away? What do I do then?”

Vedaan smiles in response to the boy's questions, the draenei reaching back to adjust the ship's course with the rudder as he speaks.

“Sometimes you will have it all in hand. A plan to solve whatever problem plagues a person. If they take your hand, then that is that. You can solve the problem together. But sometimes you will offer that hand and they will pull away from you. They will refuse to take it, even if the need is dire. If it comes to such... then you need to make a choice. Do you stay there with your hand held out, waiting for them? Or do you reach out with that hand to take a hold of them yourself? The world is not black and white, Nakobu. There will be consequences for either action. And it will be up to you to decide which of those consequences you face.”

Nakobu nods slowly, looking down at his lap deep in thought. After a minute, his face suddenly flashes with fear, the young mag'har quickly looking back up to the draenei.

“Y-You keep saying that I will have to choose what to do but... I won't be alone in choosing, yes? You'll be there to help me, won't you? Y-You aren't going anywhere, are you grandfather?”

Vedaan laughs softly, putting his arm around Nakobu in reassurance. Taking his hand off the rudder, he ruffles the boy's hair.

“Of course I will be here, Nakobu! It is just that when you get older, you will have to make choices for yourself. Know that I will not be going anywhere though, my dear boy. Why would I? You can always come to me for help with anything, even when you start looking as old as I do. So don't be so worried, yes? Everything will be all right.”

-     -     -     -     -     -

Nakobu opens his eyes as he feels Skint toss and turn in the bed, her movement having once again woken him from his slumber. He turns his head to look at her as she lays next to him, smiling slightly at her still holding onto his arm. The morning's light shines through the doorway next to them both, lighting up the inn's interior. A new day is here. Hopefully a better day than the last. Time to get up.

4
The Campfire / Sharguul and the Soul
« on: June 25, 2019, 10:19:13 PM »
Sharguul and the Soul

An sea of endless stars and twisting streaks of bright pastel coloured energies was all Nakobu could see as he opened his eyes. The orc looked around in confusion. Where was he? He was mending Zi'tani's wounds only a moment ago... but now he was in the Great Dark? The Nether? He did not know. The entire scene before him constantly spun and changed as he drifted through the space, the feeling of nausea confirming that it was him spinning rather than the stars themselves.

Try as he might, Nakobu could not stop his body from its tumbling over and over as he drifted further onwards. No amount of flailing his arms and legs or twisting his body could stop the motion that he had apparently been placed into. As he turned and turned, his movements caused his pouches to come loose from his belt, their contents flooding out all around him. His last remaining gemstones from his home world floated off into the pastel lights around him. Skint's crystal that lights up upon his touch was now dark, having sailed out of his sight. The communicator to Vin'scadrial and the radio to Zapdrill began their drift into the stars beyond.

Nakobu stared at all of his belongings as they span around and around in his vision, heading further and further away from him. Only a single thing lingered close to Nakobu, still having stayed close. It was the crystal linked to Skint's soul, a deep shade of purple and around a finger in size. Nakobu reached out desperately with his right hand, failing to grasp onto the crystal before it decided to leave him as well.

Upon his failure, Nakobu's stomach dropped as he felt himself begin to fall. No longer was he being suspended to float through space, now instead being left to begin his decent. Faster and faster did he fall, the distant stars and bright colours becoming a blur as he rushed further and further down. Eventually, Nakobu saw what looked to be some form of white, mist-like barrier, a barrier he was fast approaching. Scrunching his eyes and bracing himself for impact, Nakobu plunged through the ghostly mists.

Nakobu opened his eyes as he passed through to the other side of the misty barrier. What he saw was... not what he expected. Great fields of green grasslands, stretching from horizon to horizon, as far as the eye can see. The lands were dyed orange by the setting sun, it's glow casting the final light upon the realm. His fall began to slow as he neared the ground below him, his tumbling now stabilising. Looking up at the sky, he saw the swirling barrier of white mists at the sky's zenith, the rest of it gold and pink from the sun's rays.

Before long, Nakobu landed gently on the grasses, feet first. Looking around, it reminded him much of the Fields of Farahlon back home... Nakobu stood a moment, feeling the cool breeze move over his skin. He might have had no idea where he has ended up, but it was a nice enough place... “So. The one known as Nakobu makes his appearance.” Nakobu near jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice, spinning around to face it. Coming towards him was a massive black wolf, with eyes of ice and leaving shadows with each step. Sharguul. How did he not spot him before...?

Sharguul made his way up to Nakobu, stopping before him as he spoke. “You know who this one is. And know that I have not called on you without reason.” Sharguul motioned his nose in the direction behind Nakobu. The orc turns to look in the direction pointed to, his eyes growing wide at the sight. A spectral looking Skint floats in the air, her fluffy hair flowing outwards and her eyes looking in his direction. A portal to what appears to be Shattrath has formed behind her, waiting to be used. Below her lay her body, with some form of crystal and a scroll resting on her chest.

Nakobu begins to run towards her, before Sharguul's voice rings out. “I know of your plans to save that one. To rescue her from her fate. But are you sure you can ascertain her safety? Or will this end in the worst case imaginable?” Nakobu kept running despite Sharguul's words, dashing across the green of the grasslands. The sun finally fully set behind the horizon, plunging the realm into darkness as Nakobu stopped before Skint.

From behind her, a figure emerged. A troll with a face like a rush'kah mask and bone adorning his body. Bwonsamdi. He places his hands around Skint's soul, causing her to start fading away. Nakobu attempts to reach up and grasp her before she disappears, but... his hands find nothing but air. Bwonsamdi laughs as Skint disappears, her soul consumed. Nakobu cries out in sorrow, falling down onto his knees. His eyes welled up with tears as they begun to stream down his face, his heart rent at his failure.

Sharguul shakes his head as he speaks once again. “If one had a second chance, what would one do? Let us see, shall we?” With his words, the realm began to move in reverse. The sun rose back up from the horizon. Bwonsamdi disappeared. Skint's soul returned. And Nakobu was dragged back next to Sharguul.

Nakobu quickly sprinted up to Skint's soul, not waiting for anything, holding his hands out to her whilst speaking rapidly in Draenei. Blessing after blessing is placed upon Skint as Nakobu goes through verse after verse, the orc becoming visibly more and more worn out. Shields of power, holy runes of fortification, sanctifying barriers; anything he could think of that might keep the Loa of Death away for those few precious seconds needed.

Bwonsamdi soon makes his appearance, glancing at the holy works illuminating the area around Skint, before turning his cold gaze to Nakobu. Grinning widely, the Loa grabs a hold of the heavenly wards around her, slowly crushing them with his dark spectral powers. One by one, the barriers and fortifications crack, break and shatter, before once again Skint is consumed. With a flick of the trollish death god's hand, Nakobu is blasted back towards Sharguul, his head crashing onto the hard earth with an audible thud.

Sharguul spoke once more, this time Nakobu hearing it in his very mind as he feels himself begin to fall unconscious. “Hrm. So, one has chosen to struggle vainly against the odds... So be it. But what, this one asks, would you do if you could not even be there for your ever desperate struggle?” Once again, everything rewinds, Nakobu now back to where he was when he was mid-sprint. Ghostly chains wrap around his form, forcing him to the ground. “One cannot always account that one will be there upon the time of demise.” Nakobu writhes against the chains as he once again witnesses his failure to stop the fate befalling Skint's soul, Bwonsamdi causing her to fade away.

A spectral dagger forms above Nakobu, plunging deep into his back and through his heart. Nakobu convulses as Sharguul speaks once again. “Perhaps even, one would not be alive to see it happen. And so this one asks again. Can you ascertain her safety? No. Not alone.” The realm once again rewinds itself, back to when Nakobu was first wrapped up by the chains. This time around, Sharguul leaps forth himself to fend off the Loa of Death, before, with a flash of ghostly light, he sends Skint's soul through the portal.

Nakobu blinks from the bright light, suddenly finding himself standing before Sharguul once again. Nakobu hurriedly looks behind him, but Skint is not there. Nothing was there. Sharguul stares down at Nakobu as the orc looks back to the great wolf. “Alone, one cannot ensure the safety of her soul.” Sharguul begins pacing around Nakobu, leaving his shadowed paw prints in the grass. “Do you know of this one's role? It is to protect the pack. All of the pack. To guide them to their afterlives. You and the one known as Skint may be New Bloods of the pack now, but before long you will be oath bound same as all the rest.”

Sharguul stops his pacing, standing back in front of Nakobu. “To save her soul, you need this one. And this one, needs you. Seek out the one known as Madeye. It is with him that your path will begin.”

Nakobu woke with a start, glancing around the room of his imprisonment in a panic, his breathing heavy. A dream? An illusion? No... He felt it to be truthful... but why? Question after question go around and around in his head, the orc unable to come to a conclusion on his own. It seems he would have to seek out Madeye for answers after all...

5
Notice Board / Dealing with Death
« on: June 06, 2019, 06:52:31 PM »
Writeup for Side-Event 4 in the 'Whispers in the Shadows' campaign:

The orcs had been sensing the ill presence of twisted magics to the temple to the north over the course of the day. Some hear the sound of combat on the wind... As the day drew on, the ill feeling only grew stronger, the sound of combat louder. It was clear that the orcs would have to take action lest their camp soon come into danger from whatever was going on.

Gashuk, being the experienced arcanist he is, could easily identify the ill magics to be based in necromancy and blood. A difficult threat to face. Taking precautions, the orcish mage enchanted a number of stone amulets to protect against necromantic energy in particular. The enchantment was strong, too strong for the stone in fact. The orcs would have to act soon before their defence crumbled under its own strength.

Though many wished to not venture to the temple, it was clear that action had to be taken! The orcs began their slow walk along the broken causeway to the temple, stepping over stone and wading through water. As the orcs neared the stairs up into the temple grounds, those magically attuned among them noticed something. Barrier than once was. It was certain that the defences of the temple has fallen to something.

Upon their entry proper into the grounds, the scene unfolding became clear. Undead swarmed the entirety of the area, being combatted by the temple's defending constructs. Though the constructs cut down the undead in swaths with their great might, they were having a very difficult time repelling them.

The troll spirits that usually calmly float overhead to meet with Bwomsamdi were instead seemingly being forcibly dragged through the air. And it's not to the Loa of Graves... On the other end of the courtyard, at the entrance to the inner portion of the temple, floated a trollish lich – a foul being whom drew in and consumed the souls as they desperately attempted to get away. But alas, their efforts were in vain...

A barrier of swirling shadow and rushing blood surrounded the lich as he dined on the sounds, three runes of power glowing bright at his feet to maintain it. Steelheart, with her senses keen, noticed that these runes were leaving a trail to the three main hallways situated in the undead infested courtyard below. It seemed the orcs would have to ventured down and destroy whatever was maintaining them.

As the orcs discussed what they were to do, a voice rang out from seemingly everywhere, but also... nowhere? It said: “Well, well, well. If it isn't the orcs who be holin' themselves up in me ruins! Finally decided to pay a visit to a lonely old loa at his temple, eh?” The voice laughed to himself. “Tell ya what. You send me da soul of the one who dares to desecrate me temple... and I'll consider givin' ya a hand while you are here in Nazmir... Sound like a deal?”. The orcs did not get much time to think on the offer, for Gashuk near instantaneously took the the voice up on his deal! The voice laughed once more, before fading away.

Many were shocked at Gashuk's quick decision to take up the offer, wondering if it was wise. But they did not have long to stand around, for a ground of undead broke away from the combat with the constructs rushing up the courtyard stairs to charge at the orcs! Dwarves they were! Once heroes of their people, clad in the patriotic blue colours of the Alliance, now nothing more than shambling puppets. However, the orcs reacted quickly, fighting off the short stacks under the efficient command of Rrosh-tul Bloodpaw.

With the immediate threat dealt with, the orcs followed through with their previously discussed plan, the group making their way down the stairs to the courtyard! The temple constructs formed defensive lines against the undead, creating a path to the western hallway and the first rune that the orc would have to disable! The orcs sprinted through the small zone of safety created by the stone constructs, one them moving to stand in front of the door to the hallway once all of the orcs were inside.

The western hallway was dimly lit, with many of the orcs sensing the ill feeling of twisted blood magic get stronger and stronger despite the protection offered by Gashuk's enchantment. It wasn't long before the source of the feeling was unveiled, a large blood totem surrounded by a number of what looked to be the drained corpses of Bwonsamdi's followers.

The totem exuded a very large amount of energy, using its powers to defend itself as the orcs prepared to strike! It used weakening magics to drain orcs of energy, but luckily, only a few were affected! The rest made their move, and in a combination of starlight, arrows, reversing the blood magics and brute force, the totem was torn asunder! The first rune was deactivated, and Gashuk took the remenants of the totems power to restore his drained energy.

The group then returned to the doorway, where a plan was made. The construct would move, and then Vin'scadrial, a demon hunter follower of the clan, would burn away any of the dead that managed to squeeze past and into the safe line made by the stone golems. And to everyone's elation, the plan succeeded, the orcs making their way to the southern hallway.

As the construct stood in front of the door of the hallway, the entire passageway was dark, orcs unable to see much more than a few feet ahead. The sound of bone of stone alerted that they were certainly not alone... Some of the orcs created artificial light with their magics, guiding them all down to the main room of the hallway. It was there they were greeted by undead! But not the same undead as aboveground. These were purely skeletal, swirling spheres of blood resting in their chest cavities. They turned to the orcs as they approached, more of them climbing out of their various coffins. The fight was on!

And what a fight it was. Through steel and spell, the orc carved through the strange undead, their cores of blood falling to the floor. Before long, only one remained, damaged and on its last legs. However, it then did something strange. It drawed on the power of its fallen comrades cores, using them to empower himself in a case of swirling bloodied armour! But even this empowered state wasn't enough to stand against the valor of the Red Blade, the foul undead soon returning to the ground.

The second rune was deactivated with his death, but at a certain cost. Borrock, friend of the clan, was stabbed through the abdomen with a rusted blade... Normally, such a wound would surely be fatal. However, Borrock seems to be no normal orc, his strange fel-infused allowing him to survive the injury and even very quickly removed after having the blade taken out. Certainly an oddity, that orc is.

With the second rune dealt with, the group repeated their plan to make it safely through the infestation of the dead in the courtyard and make their way to the final hallway on the east. Unlike the last one, this hallway was well lit, seemingly by some form of magics coming from the main room ahead...

In the main room, a number of living blood trolls were positioned at the outskirts of the room, each monitoring their own ghastly spell kept on a captive spirit that floats before each of them. They seemed to be ever so slowly draining the spirits' power to keep the lich's final rune active! The orcs were certainly not going to stand for this, the group using stealth to sneak up on the trolls and dispatch and number of them before they even realised what was happening! The rest soon fell, but the spirits still were trapped in their spells! Luckily, Gashuk found various talismans on the bodies of the trolls, and upon their destruction, the spirits were freed from the foul spells grasp! As thanks for their efforts, the spirits blessed them with power, strength that were certainly be needed considering the lich's barrier was now gone!

As the orcs hurriedly formed a plan the lich called out: “So, Bwonsamdi's pets think that they can stand against me! I have consumed countless souls while you have been scurrying about underground... Come then! Try your luck if you dare!” The orcs applied their former plan to make their way through the courtyard and up the stairs to the lich, finally facing him down. Shadowbolts went flying in all directions, the lich demonstrating his great power. Orcs retaliated, striking at the lich's body and causing some quite noticeable wounds!

But as all with knoweldge of the dead know, liches need their phylactery destroyed to be truly defeated. Vin'scadrial used her demonic sight to try and look for the object and... it was on his person? While it had special defences placed upon it, why on Azeroth would he keep such an important thing on him in this dangerous situation? Either way, it soon became the focus for attacks as Gashuk disabled the defences and Vin'scadrial broke the thing apart!

The fight should have been over but... the lich still lived. What was going on? The orcs had no choice but to carry on, soon managing to cause enough damage to the lich's physical form to cause him to meet his temporary end.

Orcs stood confused at what just occurred as all of the undead fell unmoving upon the lich's demise. A construct soon walked up holding something. Something strange. It was the lich's phylactery! Soon all was revealed as a laughing trollish figure appeared in a flash of spectral energy before the orcs, taking the phylactery from the construct. Orcs questioned what was going on, they did not understand! “Ya didn't think he actually had dis ting on him did ya?” The loa laughed. “Ya were a good... distraction. Don't ya worry... I'll be keeping to our little deal.”  The orcs continued to wonder and question, before the loa sent them all away! “Remove ya from me temple! But I have a feeling I'll be seein' some of ya soon...” The figure looked to Dhak, a friend of the clan. “Real soon.”

With the situation at the temple sorted, the orcs slowly made their our out of the temple and back to their camp at the ruins, using the rest of the night to try and take in all of the strange things that just occurred.





6
Red Blade Records / Nakobu
« on: May 04, 2019, 02:17:10 AM »

                                                                                                               Nakobu by ShadowPriest

Name: Nakobu Shadowbreaker
Alias: 'Lightflinger', 'Light-marked one'
Rank: Clan Follower

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Mag'har Orc
Clan: Bleeding Hollow
Class: Priest
Alignment: Lawful Good/Neutral Good

Family: Vedaan (Adoptive grandfather, deceased), Meri 'Skint' Soulwalker (Mate), Kind-ear (Wolf companion)
Known Friends: Kyrazha Throatrender, Rhonya Steelheart, Tahara Beastgrin, Tagrok Valorwind, Har'kuna Spiritsong, Urzoga Unbroken and others of the clan.
Known Enemies: Burning Legion, Undead (Forced or mindless), a particular Loa.

Appearance:
Nakobu stands at an average height, with dark brown skin and a fairly developed muscle mass for an orc of his age, showing that he at least does some modicum of exercise to keep in good physical health.
He has citrine yellow eyes, along with a face that is normally calm, relaxed and kind in appearance. His brown hair is done into a long braid that goes down his back. His beard done also into braids, being three separate ones. Both his hair and beard braids are adorned with metal rings and cloth as accessories.

Voice:
Something instantly notable about Nakobu would be his accent - being clearly draenei in origin. He often speaks a bit slower to ensure he's better understood.
(Link to Nakobu's 'Character Voices' post!)

Notable scars:
Since joining the Red Blades, Nakobu has gained a fair few light scars here and there across his body. Some are more obvious and notable however:
- Stab from a dagger to his right side, angled up towards his organs. Caused by Tagrok Valorwind while afflicted by mind control.
- Slash from a dagger across his left palm. Self-inflicted for his mating oath to Meri Soulwalker.
- Slash from a dagger across his right palm. Self-inflicted for his oath to the clan.

Personality:
Nakobu is a very soft-hearted orc, one ruled by his sense of right and wrong. He is exceptionally stubborn when it comes to bending his code of ethics, unwilling to take action that he personally believes to be wrong.
He is also very, very curious, often barraging people with questions upon meeting them in order to get to know them better and become friends. Sadly, he often doesn't quite realise how much of annoyance he might be to said people as he launches volley after volley of prying questions...
When seeing someone in distress or trouble, Nakobu often feels compelled to help that person in whatever way he can – regardless of whether they have actually asked for help or not.
Nakobu tends to get over-emotional at many things, his worries often appearing to him as a much bigger deal than they actually often are in reality.

History:
Spoiler: show

Nakobu was born to two orcs from the Bleeding Hollow, where they lived manning one of the clan's smaller outposts in the Tanaan Jungle. During the 'good years' of Draenor, this outpost was razed by Legion remnants, Nakobu only surviving by chance when a group of draenei vindicators came to investigate the demonic presence.

Nakobu was severely weakened from the exposure to the fel-energies of the demons' razing when the vindicators came across him. To send such a weak infant back to an orcish clan would have surely resulted in his demise – so the vindicators took the child back to Shattrath. With the child so highly exposed to the fel, particular treatment was needed.

Vedaan, a former anchorite of the Aldor was called upon by one of the vindicators, the priest purifying the weakness sickening Nakobu. Though it was indeed purified, a close eye still needed to be kept... so the vindicators were instructed to take the young boy to Shattrath's orphanage. It was there he was left, the carers given no information on the boy other than a name. 'Nakobu'.

As he grew a bit older, Nakobu was eventually adopted by that same Vedaan whom cured him, Vedaan now worked as a trader in his retirement, moving goods and offering services to the many different races of Draenor. Nakobu came to refer to Vedaan as his grandfather, the draenei taking the boy along the length and breadth of Draenor as he worked.

During their numerous travels, Vedaan taught Nakobu what he knew of the Light and his personal values associated with it. The young orc picked up using the Light at quite the pace, being able to learn the various techniques shown to him and memorise holy texts with relative ease.

Things carried on in this manner all through the 'good years', until the eventual rise of the Lightbound in draenei society. The 'Light Mother' made her demands of a world united in following the Light, and the draenei leaders convinced the vast majority of the population to follow in her vision.

Vedaan, however, did not agree with such a vision. To him, it stood against all the values he held, all the values that he passed onto Nakobu over the years. He spoke out, using his weight as a former Aldori to attempt to persuade those he could from their current path. As a result, Vedaan was dragged out to the centre of Shattrath by the vindicators to be made an example of.

Nakobu could only watch as the vindicators called for his grandfather to revoke his previous statements – or face the consequences. And face the consequences he did, for his demise did Vedaan meet upon the vindicator's hammer. Upon seeing this act – and the acts of the Lightbound subsequently, Nakobu's faith in the Light was shaken, resulting in him only being able to call on it in the slightest of ways.

After his grandfather's passing, Nakobu was forced into service as an artificer's apprentice for the Lightbound, due to him taking the art as hobby previously. He was put to work developing and maintaining a number of different devices and equipment. It was during this time that he was quietly approached by a group who's aim was to aid draenei and mag'har whom wished to escape the reach of the Lightbound.

This group had men and women in the majority of the different sectors of the Lightbound war effort, from the vindicators to the anchorites, from the artificers to the administrators. And so he spent the entirety of the war working alongside this group in secret, fighting on the front-lines to reduce the number of lives taken via artificer artillery and to attempt to convince those he could to lay down their arms so that they may survive and escape at a later date.

This continued until the march upon Beastwatch, one of the last bastions of the Mag'har. Before the battle began, Nakobu sent a number of the artillery he had helped built into a haywire state – using it as a distraction to run north to the mag'har base. He ran, all with almost assuredly futile the goal of convincing those he could to lay down their arms when the Lightbound army came. However, as he neared the base... everything flashed white. As his vision cleared, an orange land surrounded him. A different sky above his head. He might not have known it, but he was in Azeroth. And there he would have to stay.

Things you may know about this character:
- He seeks to learn what it means to be an orc and the various orcish ways of doing things. He hopes being a part of the Red Blade clan will allow him to eventually come to understand his heritage.
- He is a devout follower of the Light.
- He has the understanding to work as a draenic artificer – though his lack of proper tools causes his projects to take a exceptionally long time to complete.
- He gets overly worried about even minor things very easily.

Things you may not know about this character:
Spoiler: show

- He casually practiced Jed'hin in his youth, the sport being one of the reasons he enjoys keeping himself in good physical health.
- Unbeknownst to Nakobu, being in an area saturated with excessive fel energy (or being directly affected by the magic) makes him physically unwell due to previous high exposure.


Stories:

Additional art:
Spoiler: show

Nakobu by Rhonazha:


Nakobu, Meri and Bwonsamdi by Link:


Nakobu and Meri by Veritasket:


Nakobu by Trinkety:


Pin-Up Style Nakobu by Gufy:


7
The Campfire / An Initiate's Task
« on: October 08, 2018, 10:55:49 PM »
Nar'thak leaned forward against the side of the goblin barge, eyeing the small fishing village of Sri-La as the vessel began to dock. The multi-levelled village lay in darkness, not a single lantern or house having been lit. The great mogu statue that towered over the town was visible only by the faint light of the moon, the figure casting it's shadow against the cliffs behind it.  Normally fishermen would be seen sitting in their boats by lamplight, but instead their vessels lay empty, dragged up onto the shore. Not even the tavern, where tales would be spun and laughter would roar right until the early morning, sat in silence.

“Hey, hey! Where's our welcome party, huh?!” yelled the goblin captain, his frustrated voice breaking the silence. Nar'thak grunted in response, finding the lack of activity to be strange for pandaren, a race that always aimed to live 'in the moment'. He walked his way down the gangplank to the pier, leaving the goblin huffing and puffing about the lack of welcome.

 The old orc was closely followed by Feng, the wood creaking under the turtle's weight. Nar'thak's gaze moved from house to house as the pair began their ascent up the village's many stairs, making their way towards the path into the greater Jade Forest. Each home had it's doors locked tight, the windows blocked with bamboo blinds or dark cloth. Strangely, outside each door lay a small fireworks launcher, preloaded and pointed heavenward. “For some festival or another, I presume.” Nar'thak thought, shrugging to himself. The launchers serpentine visages gleamed in the moonlight, making it seem as if they were almost watching the pair as they made their way higher.

Eventually, Nar'thak climbed his way to the summit of the stairs, looking up further along the path. Just like in the village, none of the lanterns that adorned the sides of the road were lit. “Ghrm, the lamplighters all on strike or something?” Nar'thak sighed to himself as he clambered up onto Feng,  rummaging through his packs for a small set of matches. He lit the two lanterns that hung at Feng's sides, causing them to emit their faint amber light.

The pair pushed on further into the forest, the trees soon forming a roof-like canopy, leaving only the glow of the lanterns to guide their path. They soon passed Greenstone Village, the situation being the exact same as previous; doors were locked, windows blocked, and no light to be seen. Nar'thak grunted once more, pushing Feng further onward, north to the Arboretum.

Pandaria is a land with very few changes from season to season, the Jade Forest especially so. There was one change however that Nar'thak was particularly pleased about as he and Feng pulled into the seemingly ever-blooming orchard. During the autumn and winter months, the huge wasps that often plagued the wood were much fewer in number, and certainly less daring. Nar'thak shuddered at the thought of the creatures as he made his way towards the gigantic locked gates of the Temple.

He knocked the large brass handles hard against the wood of the door, the sound echoing into the night. The hurried sound of wood of sliding across wood responded to the knocking before the grand gates creaked open, a hissing voice calling out. “What do you think you are doing?! Why are you not in your home?!” A young pandaren poked his head around the door, a scowl on his face. He looked to the old orc, his expression soon softening. “Ah, disciple Nar'thak! You have returned! Come in, quickly now!” The pandaren pushed the gates open wider, allowing the orc and turtle to pass through.

Nar'thak's gaze moved over the temple grounds. Dark. Empty. The opposite to how it should be. He looked to the pandaren shoving the massive gates shut. “Mind telling me exactly what is going on here?” asked Nar'thak, sending a questioning look the pandaren's way. “You have have bad timing, my friend.” replied the pandaren, sliding the large wooden beam back into place. The pandaren, clad in the heavy armour of the temple guard, turned to face Nar'thak. “The saurok on the Windward Isle have risen to great numbers these past few weeks. All of the Order and even the majority of our monks here at the temple have had to rush in an attempt to push them back.”

Nar'thak nodded slowly, looking over to the pavilion where students of the Order of the Cloud Serpent would normally spend their time learning and training. The pandaren continued: “This incursion, as you can imagine, has thrown the serpents of the isle into a frenzy. One especially so. It lost everything. Its children, its mate, its home. In its despair, it has been taken and twisted by the remnants of the Sha. It now flies around the Jade Forest at night, attacking anything it can see. And with everyone dealing with the situation at the isle...”. “No one is there to challenge it.” Nar'thak replied, frowning. The pandaren nodded, a frustrated look on his face. Stepping down from Feng, Nar'thak took off his blade, shoving it into the paws of the guard. “Then wait here.” Nar'thak stated. The pandaren began to question and protest, but the orc had already turned heel and ran towards the village that lay nestled in the corner of the grounds.

As Nar'thak made his way through the settlement, Beastbane's words rang in his head. “...slay it using only what your surroundings can provide you with. No magic, no weapons of your own.” “If said armoury be the wilds, I shan't complain.”. Nar'thak rubbed his head in thought. “I wouldn't exactly call him a weapon... And he's certainly of the wild.” said Nar'thak as he pushed a pair of small wooden gates open into a large garden.

A pair of cerulean eyes shone in the dark, staring at the old orc as he made his entrance. Nar'thak shut the gate behind him, their gazes soon meeting. “Zhang! Good to see you are not flying around in some far corner of Pandaria as usual. Decided to actually listen to Master Yao for once?”. The serpent snaked it's way forward out the shadow, the moonlight now shining off it's sunset coloured scales. The beast appeared as if it was sneering in response to the orc's question.

Zhang. The companion of Nar'thak's master, and a very temperamental thing. Nar'thak had learned to ride the great cloud serpents on the back of him, but the creature always found it ever so amusing to twist and turn mid-flight, dumping him into the sea or to the ground. Nar'thak strode over to it, giving it a firm pat on the back. The creature kept on staring the orc down, a knowing look now upon it's face. “You can already tell what needs be done, hrm?” muttered Nar'thak as he walked over to a corner of the garden, breaking off a large piece of bamboo to use as a makeshift spear. He then made his way back and threw a nearby saddle over the serpent climbing on top. “Then don't try and throw me off this time!”. Nar'thak was sure a smirk appeared on the serpent's face,  Zhang now rising higher and higher as he took off. The great beast pushed on, bursting through the thin layer of grey clouds that loomed over the land and into the open night sky, letting out an ear-splitting roar. It wasn't long until that roar got a response.

A bellowing cry echoed from below the clouds. Nar'thak gripped onto his spear, looking down to Zhang before speaking: “Well that certainly got it's attention. Just try to keep a good distance, hrm?”. Zhang was visibly tensed, the serpent's eyes darting from left to right. Nar'thak suddenly felt a very familiar feeling begin to close in upon him, quickly sending a sharp kick to Zhang's left side in response. The serpent's body recoiled and twisted away from the blow, just as what looked like a beam of dark energy ripped though the clouds to his left. Through those clouds came the awaited serpent; a twisted, demented avatar of madness. Sha growths covered it's body, a shadowy swirling mist surrounding it.

Pure despair and sadness flooded from the creature as it screamed at the pair, rushing them with fang and claw. Zhang quickly responded to the charge, flying headlong into battle, the pair of serpents twisting and turning as Zhang dodged the Sha's blows. Nar'thak lashed out with his spear, carving away at the large Sha growths that stuck out whenever the serpent drew near. The serpents flew through the skies before they crashed down through the clouds.

Further  and further away from the Temple they drifted as it continued, the battle now raging above the town of Dawn's Blossom. Over the war cries of the beasts, a large bell chimed out, Nar'thak looking down at the noise still clinging as talon and maw clashed around him. What he saw was small shining objects located outside each and every house of the town. He saw pandaren rushing out their doors torches in hand. His eye went wide, quickly yanking hard on Zhang's reins and directing him away from the combat with the monstrous creature. The serpent protested, wanting to stay in the thick of it until it heard the screech of the rockets. The fireworks blasted up into the air from their shining launchers, their shrieking and whistling drowning out everything else. Zhang soon disengaged from his foe, leaving the Sha-serpent floating alone as the countless fireworks erupted around it in a kaleidoscopic explosion.

The pandaren cheered as the serpent was sent flying to the ground in a smouldering heap, crashing into the deep wilds a ways outside town. Nar'thak directed Zhang to land, leaping from the prideful serpent. The serpent narrowed it's eyes, looking to the orc as he dismounted. “You have my thanks, Zhang. Perhaps you can be cooperative after all?” said Nar'thak with a grin. The serpent huffed in response, Nar'thak giving the serpent a firm nod before running deep into the forest.

Over roots, through trees and off any known path he ran, chasing the fallen serpent into the wilds. It wasn't hard to tell if he was headed in the right direction; the further he went, the more he felt the negative energy that poured from the beast like a leaked goblin oil rig, staining and ruining the land around it. He ran until he reached a small clearing, the serpent writhing on the ground in it's centre. Burned and bleeding, it stared down the orc.

It breathed a wave of shadow towards Nar'thak, the orc diving to the side just in the knick of time, the place he stood scarred black. The elder went into a sprint, running at the serpent, dodging and rolling away from the foul magics it spat at him with each step. With the gap finally closed, Nar'thak slammed his spear across the snout of the beast, stopping it's next gout of darkness. It retaliated by slashing it's mutated claws at the orc, slicing through his staff and cutting through his right leg. Nar'thak roared in pain, dropping his broken weapon and grasping the serpent's flailing limb, yanking it forward. He twisted it into a complex pandaren joint lock, snapping the bone in two. The beast shrieked, Nar'thak following up the blow by grabbing two parts of his broken spear from the dirt and throwing himself at the serpent's side.

He quickly clambered up onto the creature's back, clinging to it's scales as the beast shook and jolted in an attempt to fling him off. Slowly, Nar'thak crawled his way to the serpent's head, shoving a shard of the staff deep into it's right eye socket. The serpent screeched out in pain, flailing around ever more desperately to knock the orc off it's head. Nar'thak hung on tight against the flailing snake, reaching down and driving the last remainder of the weapon deep into it's final eye. The serpent's screeching suddenly cut out as the beast seized up, it's head falling to the floor, laying motionless. Nar'thak slid off it's hide and crashed into the dirt below, breathing heavily.

The old orc shoved himself to his feet, looking over the corpse of the once great serpent. Sha energy still clung it's flesh as Nar'thak drew his small blade, cutting into the flesh and skinning a portion of the hide. He grimaced as he endured the foul magic, slicing deeper into the beast's body and retrieving various bones, placing them onto the floor.

With the serpent skinned and the bones collected, Nar'thak pulled up a young sapling from the edge of the clearing. He roughly cut it to size, adorning it with the bones and placing the newly, but crudely, made totem before the serpent's body as a sign of respect. Reluctantly picking up the hide, he began the long trek back home.

By the time he reached the Temple, it was dawn, the sun's golden rays casting its warm welcoming glow over the land. Making his way through the temple grounds and back towards the village, the old orc soon stopped in front of small house. Lifting the plant out of a nearby pot, Nar'thak picked the small metal key that lay at the bottom. He pushed it into the lock, turning it and sliding the wooden doors open, peering inside at the dusty interior. At the centre of the room, a large wooden table and two chairs sat, a Jihui board game setup and sitting mid-game upon it.

On the right hand side of the room, a bed was tucked into the corner, a dresser to it's left. Above the bed hung a large banner bearing the colours of the Burning Blade, waving slightly from the light wind coming through the open door. A blademaster's warblade hung alongside it, the blade itself having been shattered into three pieces.

Nar'thak's gaze moved to the other side of the room, where the furniture had been mirrored. A bed in the corner, with a dresser beside it. However, on this side an old and battered shield hung from the wall. The shield's dull metal bore the crest of Stormwind, the blue lion chipped and worn.

Nar'thak made his way inside, sliding the door shut behind him. He walked towards the large table, eyeing over the board game before moving a few select pieces and pushing the game to one end of the table. He walked over to his drawers and began rummaging through them, eventually pulling  out a small needle and thread. Placing the skin and needle down on the table, Nar'thak slumped  into the chair beside it with a deep sigh, slowly closing his eye.

8
Red Blade Records / Nar'thak Strongarm
« on: September 03, 2018, 09:18:11 PM »


Name: Nar'thak Strongarm
Alias: Nar
Rank: Gosh'kar Initiate

Age: 61
Gender: Male
Race: Orc
Clan: Burning Blade
Class: Monk
Alignment: Neutral Good

Family: Ro'thar (Brother, deceased), Ashka (Mate, deceased), Sidgar Cailen (Honor-brother), Kargnar Bloodpaw (Blood-brother)
Known Friends: Master Yao, Rhonya Steelheart, Lom'rak Steelskull, Uron Lonetusk, Okiba Spearbreaker, Zouyo Rainclaw, Luciouz Dalton and others of the clan.
Known Enemies: Unknown.

Appearance:
Nar'thak is clearly quite the old orc. While you may not be able to tell the exact number of years he has walked the realm, his wrinkled and worn face shows it must be considerable. He wears an eye patch covering his right eye, his face having a good number of old scars upon it.
His hair is long and a white-silver colour. Part of it is done into two braids, which fall to his chest, the rest of it falling down his back. As for his beard, this is also done into a braid at the chin.
Standing at an average height, Nar'thak is powerfully built, clearly having undergone some intense training. Like his face, his body also has numerous scars, the majority looking quite old and faded.

Personality:
Nar'thak seems a kind old orc with a calm presence. Always willing to lend a hand and to aid those in need, he is certainly an orc that can be counted on by his fellows.
Having fought in war after war, Nar'thak has grown tired of many of his fellow orc's lust for the battlefield; a feeling that has only grown that much stronger after his years with the peaceful pandaren.

History:
Spoiler: show

Year:
-36:
• Ro'thar, Nar'thak's brother, is born.

-24:
• Ro'thar begins his training as a blademaster.

-22:
• Nar'thak is born.
• Nar'thak's mother passes due to an illness not long after his birth.

-19:
• Hallvalor attacked by a large warband of marauding ogres, Nar'thak's father dying in its defence.
• Ro'thar is left to raise Nar'thak alone.

-17:
• Nar'thak is nearly eaten alive by a Laughing Skull's out of control ravager beast during a Kosh'harg.

-15:
• Nar'thak begins his basic fighter's training.
• Nar'thak meets Ashka for the first time.

-12:
• Nar'thak fails to be chosen as one to be trained as a blademaster.

-8:
• The Burning Blade clan join the formation of the Horde.

-7:
• The Burning Blade as well as most other clans begin sporadic attacks on the draenei.

-5:
• The majority of the Burning Blade's flameseers become warlocks.

-4:
• Nar'thak and Ashka join together as mates.
• Nar'thak joins the orcs gathered for their attack on Karabor.

-3:
• Nar'thak drinks the Blood of Mannaroth at the Throne of Kil'jaeden.
• Driven by bloodlust, he joins the march against Shattrath and aids in it's destruction.

-2:
• Nar'thak, Ro'thar and the rest of the Burning Blade work alongside the Shattered Hand and the Outcast Arakkoa to conquer the capital of Skyreach.
• Once withtin the city, the orcs betray the Outcasts, killing High and Outcast Arakkoa alike.
• Many High Arakkoa are thrown down into the Pools of Sethe, twisting them into wretched, cursed versions of themselves.

-1:
• Construction of the Dark Portal begins.

0:
• Nar'thak and the rest of the Horde pass through the completed Dark Portal.
• The First War begins against the Humans of Azeroth.

1-2:
• Nar'thak participates in the destruction of numerous human towns and villages.

3:
• Nar'thak joins in the first siege of Stromwind, which ends in stalemate.
• The second siege of Stormwind, in which the gates fall. Nar'thak is among the orcs who raze the city and wipe out the majority of its inhabitants.
• Sidgar Cailen is one of the knights charged with the evacuation of the remaining civilians.

4-5:
• Start of the Second War.
• The Horde push north into Khaz Modan, trapping the dwarves and gnomes within their cities.
• The Horde sail further north, making landfall in Lordaeron.

6:
• The Horde fights through Hillsbrad, the Hinterlands and Quel'Thalas.
• The Capital City of Lordaeron is sieged, but is met with strong resistance.
• The Horde loses the Second War.

7:
• The orcs split off alone or in small packs, wandering the wilderness. Nar'thak and Ro'thar become split up during this time.
• Nar'thak and Ashka travel alone until they are captured and placed into an internment camp.

8-14:
• Ashka passes from illness due to the poor conditions within in the internment camp.
• Nar'thak and many other orcs are experimented on by a wizard of the camp, resulting the loss of his right eye.

15-18:
• The internment camp is freed by Ro'thar and a small warband of orcs.
• The Horde is reformed into the New Horde by Thrall.

20:
• The Horde sails past the Maelstrom to the continent of Kalimdor.
• The Third War begins against the Burning Legion, with the combined mortal forces achieving victory.
• The Horde found their new homeland of Durotar and the orcish city of Orgrimmar.

21-26:
• Nar'thak and Ro'thar assist in various Horde efforts across Kalimdor, most notably against the silithid in Silithus.

27:
• Nar'thak and Ro'thar join the expedition to Outland.
• Nar'thak is stationed in Thrallmar and Ro'thar in Shadowmoon Valley with the Kor'kron.

29:
• Nar'thak and Ro'thar join the Horde Expedition to Northrend.
• Ro'thar falls to the nerubian forces in Dragonblight.
• Nar'thak fights alongside the Kor'kron and Fordragon forces at the Wrathgate.

30-32:
• Nar'thak assists in relief work done to aid the Horde's population put in crisis by the Cataclysm.

33-34:
• Nar'thak sails with the forces headed for the strange southern continent, their ship wrecking after a battle with the Alliance.
• Nar'thak survives the wreckage, being taken to the Temple of the Jade Serpent.
• Nar'thak joins the monks of the Temple and is taught by the supposedly 'mad' Master Yao.
• Sidgar is another student of Yao's, having wound up at the Temple under similar circumstances.
• Nar'thak and Sidgar are taught the Peak of Serenity curriculum, giving them the basics of the pandaren's ways.
• Nar'thak and Sidgar are sent on a journey around Pandaria in order for them to learn how to deal with the Sha.
• Nar'thak and Sidgar become honor-brothers.

35-36:
• Nar'thak continues his training under Master Yao, specialising the the manipulation of chi.
• Nar'thak learns advanced pandaren medicine under the Temple's apothecaries.

37-38:
• Nar'thak and Sidgar assist in the defence of Pandaria against the Legion.
• Master Yao leaves for the Wandering Isle in order to join with the monks of the Broken Temple.

39:
• Nar'thak returns to Kalimdor in order to train his skills amongst his own kind.
• Sidgar returns to Stormwind, joining the war effort as a mender.
• Nar'thak joins the Red Blade clan.


Stories:
In the Footsteps of an Emperor:
Soon to come!

Other stories:
A Journal and a Scroll (Guild Application)
An Initiate's Task

Things you may know about this character:
Nar'thak has spent over six years training under the guidance of the pandaren.
Trains as a monk to chase the ever-elusive 'Inner Peace'.
Fought through the First, Second and Third Wars, as well as served in Outland and Northrend.
Lost his eye in the internment camps to a wizard that had a fondness for testing his magics on the prisoners.

Things you may not know about this character:
Suffers constant nightmares of his acts whilst he was under the effects of the Blood Curse.
He has a close bond with a human named Sidgar Cailen, one he considers to be an honor-brother.
Considers himself to be incredibly selfish, having originally taken up the monk arts solely for himself.
Has a fear of large insect-like creatures.

Belongings:
Spoiler: show

Object:   Created/Gifted by:   Location:
Blademaster's Necklace   Ro'thar   On his person
Cloth Eyepatch   Internment Camp's wizard   On his person
Satchel Bag   Master Yao   On his person
Herbs, brews and other medical supplies   Himself, various vendors   In his bag
Bamboo Monk's Staff   Master Yao   On Feng
Aged Warblade   Ro'thar, repaired by Steelskull   On Feng
Banner of the Burning Blade   Ro'thar   In his home within the Temple Grounds
Basic Cobalt Knife   Horde Expedition quartermaster   In his bag
Bear Hide Armour   Wildmark   On his person, on Feng
Red Blade Tabard   Wildmark   On his person
Red Blade Marks   Himself   In his bag
Link Trinket made of Marks   Steelheart   On his person
Totem to Magor   Himself, items placed upon it taken from battlefields and gifted by others   On Feng
Red Blade Banners   Clan storage   On Feng
Ghost Iron Footguards, Elbowguards and decorative pieces   Temple of the Jade Serpent   On his person, on Feng, decoration used as part of Bear Hide Armour
Dark Talbuk and Red Cloud Serpent Hide Ritual Garb   Himself   On Feng
First War Era Stormwindian Knight's Badge   Sidgar Cailen   On the totem to Magor
Night Elven Tome   Lonetusk   On Feng
Prototype Red Blade Badge   Atar'ka   On his person
Runed Scalemail Gauntlet   Magmafist   On Feng

Other:
Views on others in the clan!
 

9
Notice Board / Tournament of the Blades
« on: June 25, 2018, 09:24:08 PM »
A poster hangs from the noticeboard. It reads:
"The tournament returns once more!

The chance to test your skills!

The chance to witness your clansmen in the fiery heat of battle!

So take up your spell, spear and sword!

Prove your worth and emerge victorious, in the TOURNAMENT OF THE BLADES!

Planned date: The twentieth of next month! If you have any enquires, please speak with Nar'thak Strongarm."

10
Applications / Application: Nar'thak
« on: April 15, 2018, 09:48:06 PM »
Name:
Nar'thak

Level:
110

Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:
I'm fairly new to roleplay: I did some roleplay as a Human Mage near the end of WoD, and I also recently roleplayed as an Orc Warrior when I came back during the later part of Legion. It was a lot of fun! So much so, that I wish to continue with Orc RP on this new character. As for outside WoW, I roleplay as an Orc Cleric in DnD with some friends.

And finally, please write a short story and/or (IC) introduction about your character:
<A journal lies open amongst a burning shipwreck, beached upon the sands. Wind blows down the length of the beach, causing the pages of the journal to be blown to new entries. Any who might be looking would likely only be able to read part of the first line at most, before the wind turns to a further chapter.>

“The ancestors claim that the Draenei are conspiring against us--”

“The elements no longer even whisper to our shamans--”

“The warlock Gul'dan offers us power in the form of the demon blood. We travel to--”

“We prepare to go through the so called 'Dark Portal', to the other wor--”

<The wind picks up even more, flicking the pages by rapidly. By the time it dies back down, the journal has moved on considerably.>

“The Blood Curse has been lifted, and we are finally free. Free to relive what we have done--”

“Every time I close my eyes, I see the unthinkable acts that I--"

“I can only hope to redeem myself by being honorable, fighting for our place--”

“The terrible memories they won't--”

<Suddenly a large gust billows down the beach, snapping the journal to it's final page.>

“We are currently on route to to the newly discovered continent. Going from the information we have, the Alliance must be entrenched in the land by now. However, I cannot agree with our Warchief. Bringing our war to yet another shore. We make landfall tomorrow.”



<A Pandaren scroll lies open on the table. However, rather than it's words being written in Mogu, as most would expect, Orcish is inscribed onto the paper. It reads:>

“It has been many years since my broken body was found on that beach by the Pandaren. They healed my wounds the best they could, using what was at the time, strange unknown powers. At first I assumed they were blessed by the spirits, using their aid in order to aid me in turn. However, I soon found out it was their own spirit, their 'Chi'.”

“I had been taken to the Temple of the Jade Serpent, a temple known for monks who train in the art of manipulating their chi through constant practice and the wisdom granted to them by Yu'lon, the Jade Serpent. These strange powers, celestial beings and monk's temples were not what interested me as I watched them in my injured state. What interested me was that they all seemed so, peaceful. As if they had fully gained peace of mind.”

“I was envious of the monks. I had fought for so long to find this peace, but it always eluded me. When I had recovered enough, I made my decision. I did not return to the Horde, now fighting its full-blown war in Pandaria. Instead I turned to the monks, and asked for them to train me. To train me in how to move as they do. How to use my spirit, my 'Chi', as they do. How to finally achieve inner peace, as they have.”

“And so I trained. And trained. And trained. The war in Pandaria came and went. I heard tales of some being able to go back, back to Draenor as it once was. Somehow. I don't think I could have faced going back. The Legion returned. I fought alongside my fellow monks, helping defend Pandaria as the invasions came, one after another. Having fought demons before, I was more valuable to the people in Pandaria who had not, rather than returning to the Horde.”

“The rebuilding of what was lost in the invasions is currently underway. I have learned much and more in my time spent here. However, I still have not achieved true inner peace. I don't know if I ever truly will, but I will strive for the rest of my days to reach that goal. Many in my point in training travel Pandaria, to reflect on what they have learned, and to develop independently for a time. I have decided instead to finally return to Kalimdor. Instead of roaming the lands here, I wish to see how my skills as a monk can aid those who need it, and how those skills will develop in such a far off place from where I trained.”

“I have heard whispers of a tribe now calling themselves a clan. 'Red Blade' was its name. Perhaps I should begin my journey by seeking them out...”

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