Mazhga Rimewind

Rashka · March 15, 2016, 02:03:16 PM

Name: Mazhga Rimewind
Alias: Little Wolf
Rank: Newblood

Age: 31
Gender: Female
Race: Orc
Clan: Born Warsong, raised Frostwolf
Class: Shaman
Alignment: Neutral Good

Family: Rashka Facebreaker(Sister), Deceased mother(Agrona) and deceased father(Gronargsh),Saynaria Sunweaver (Blood Sister).
Known Friends: Her wolf Malakai, Rak'mal Ironskull, Ul'guruk Truthflame, Claudine Moore, & many more!
Known Enemies: -

Appearance:
Mazhga is not particulary tall, her body appears small, frail and rather thin, as if she doesn't eat much, or just haven't for a while.
Her azure blue hair is almost always tied into dreadlocks, very well kept, and fresh smelling.
She has a single scar on her face; A small one going over her lips.
Around her neck is a string of leather, adorned with wolf teeth, tufts of fur, and different kind of bones.
Her garments is adorned with several important memorial tokens, such as bones from hunts, small carved totems, and inscribed stones.

Personality:
She is very generous, and genuiely cares about others around her.
Very shy at first glance.
Has a very soft-spoken voice.
Tends to be anxious, and nervous about people she doesn't know yet.

History:
Mazhga
It all started out with Mazgha sitting by a campfire that night. Her head was spinning, she was exhausted and completely drained from energy; And as if it couldn't get worse, old memories started going through her head.

They had been out picking herbs, her and her mother. It was nothing new for her, for it was something they often did. Only that tonight was going to be completely different. She just didn't know it yet.

Her mother suddenly stopped, standing completely still. And as Mazhga was about to say something she planted a hand over her mouth. She didn't quite understand what was happening, after all, she wasn't all that old, but she kept quiet.
After a while, her mother grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to a nearby bush, telling her to not move, nor say a sound. Her mother then took out the weaponary she had brought; a knife from her belt. Sneaking a bit down the road they had just been walking upon. Mazhga could nothing but look, as her mother nearly disappeared from sight. Just she had.
Suddenly two male Orcs clad in black leather appeared out of nowhere, attacking her mother and pinning her to the ground. She was outmanned, and out-muscled by the larger males. She may of been muscular, but she was no match for the two males. She was screaming.. No. She was roaring. But the attackers just laughed it off, as one of them kept her pinned to the ground, and the other started cutting her clothes up. Mazhga shut her eyes together so hard that she thought that they might explode, her hands covering her ears. If only she had been able to completely shut out the sound.

As they were done with their.. Business, they cut her throat in one clean cut, the blood gushing out rapidly as her body lay there, lifeless and broken. It was first when she heard their footsteps moving away, that she'd open her eyes once more. They were dragging the dead body of her mother off, and Mazhga was as frozen in the spot. Her mind shut completely off as she stumbled backwards, turning, then crawling in a fast pace before running off as fast as she could, in a most distressed manner, falling over her own feet several times during the process. She couldn't think, her mind was a in a muddle, images of her mothers dead body being dragged away, and the sound of the gushing blood going over and over within her mind. She couldn't return to their village, where her sister'd be waiting for them, what if the Orcs saw her? What if they did the same to her, as they did to her mother? She kept running, stumbling, and flailing, her clothes now muddied and wet from the recent rain earlier that day.
Her mental state was harmed forever, and she just kept running that whole night, not stopping once to rest, nor look back. She ran untill the first few beams of sunlight appeared from the horizonth. She stumbled over a branch, and fell as long as she were. Her head hit something. It was soft, yet terribly cold and wet. But she did not care. She was so exhausted, both physically, but also mentally, that she just passed out. However, to her luck an Orc clad in white fur apeared, he was on his morning patrol, and as he saw the small she-orc he instantly ran to her, picking her up and wrapping her in his wolf-fur cloak.

The Orc then proceeded to take care of her, feeding her hot soup and telling her stories. She didn't speak. Not a single word. All she'd do the first week, was to just look at him, either nodding or shaking her head. She didn't speak, the whole first year. But it didn't matter to the Orc that had saved her. He saw it as his task to take care of her now, and thus he became her whole world. He didn't only become the person who took care of her, he also became her tutor. The Orc was a Shaman, and he wanted to teach her. Shamanism already known to Mazhga was a warm, familiar feeling, and she did not say no to the offer. So he started teaching her. Like if she had been one of the Frostwolves themself.
Years passed, and even though she had mastered a whole lot already after the first year had gone, she did not stop training, nor did she stop talking with the Spirits. She kept listening to them, devoting herself to them. She offered them all her time, and her tutor were proud. When he believed that she had come of age, and was ready, he took her with him to a tent. Many Orcs were gathered infront of the tent, whispering, looking to her as she and her tutor appeared. She herself was wearing a warm leather robes decorated with tufts of fur, bones, and other relics she'd of aqcuired, along with a thick fur cloak. It was needed in the cold of Alterac, after all. As they approached the tent, all the gathered Orcs became quiet. Slightly confused, she and her tutor entered the tent.

Inside an Orc laid on a bed, scarred and bloodied, his blood dripping down onto the ground and pooling. There was blood everywhere. She froze; She hadn't seen blood since that time she had lost her mother. Flashes of old, unwelcome, memories flew through her mind, and each time a picture appeared infront of her eyes, a sharp pang of pain went through her head. She wanted to help the Orc infront of her, but she couldn't. The pictures were too sharp, too strong. She colapsed, the sheer force of the memory knocking her out. Her tutor could do nothing but carry her out, nodding to the rest of the menders in the tent, which quickly took over the job that she had been supposed to fix.

Time went on, as time does, and as she was 27 years old, her tutor became sick. He was old, and had aqquired a cold. Mazhga saw it as her task, to take care of him as he had of her; Their roles suddenly switched. She fed him soup, read stories for him, she even drew pictures by his bed so that he was entertained. She did not leave the Orc's side, and as months went, the cold lasted, he became weaker and weaker, and as fate wanted it, he would soon die. Mazhga was heartbroken. For the second time in her life, she lost an important person who had taken care of her, loved her. A ceremonial rite was held shortly after, sending him off to the eternal plains, the Howls of the Frostwolves echoing through the cold night.

She spent the next many weeks mourning his death, offering several things to the Spirits, in hope of hearing from him. But she heard nothing.
There was a closed envelope on the table. It'd of been sitting there for a while now, carried by one of the Frostwolve's Elders. She knew what it was, but she hadn't wanted to touch it yet, she hadn't been ready. But she was now. And thus she opened the letter, reading the text within. It had been written in a dark purple ink, the letters carefully written, yet with a slight shake to them, likely due to the weakened state her tutor'd of been in. The letter read: "Dear Mazhga. We both know how ill I have been lately, and the invitable will happen soon. My wolf, Whitepaw, is with cubs, and is set due a day after the next moon. One of the cubs will be yours, just head to the stable master, and show him this letter. And at last, but not least, I will give you my armor. Wear it with pride as I always have. - With love, Koramak."
As she read the last sentence, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Next moon.." she whispered softly. It had been that, a week ago. She blinked the tears away as she ran towards the stable master, and as her tutor had written, his wolf was with pups. The stable master allowed her to pick one of the pups, as the letter had proclaimed. She eyed each and everyone of the cubs, untill her eyes fell onto one particulary small and scrawny cub. It seemed that its brothers and sisters kept bullying the poor thing, which reminded her abit of herself. With a slight chuckle she motioned to the cub, and the stable master nodded. "In a moon he will be ready to come with you."

A moon later, she picked up the wolf pup, whom now had grown into something that resembled a wolf much more, yet it still was only a pup. She smiled a bit, as she was wearing Koramak's armor. She had gotten it adjusted so that it'd fit her perfectly. And it did. The pup and her quickly formed a strong bond.

It wasn't untill one day, when she sat down by the waters, reflecting over the recent happenings, and the past, she realized something. She had completely forgotten about the fact she had a sister. Was she still alive? How was she? Was she doing well? So many questions formed in her head. The spirits talked of her, and her deeds. And of some.. Tribe. She didn't quite understand, but she understood one thing. She had to find her sister. They had to be reuinted.. She returned to her and Koramak's house, or well, her house now, and packed as much of her belongings as she could. She donned on the heavy leather and mail armor, and wafted her hand at her wolf, whom she had named Malakai. She didn't know how long the journey would be, but she did not care. All she cared for was reunition with her resumed dead sister.

Things you may know about this character:
She is very generous, and genuiely cares about others around her.
Very shy at first glance.
Has a very soft-spoken voice.

Things you may not know about this character:
Witnessed her mother being raped, and murdered as a child.
Is infact Warsong.
Is Rashka Facebreaker's Sister.
Can enrage if angered enough, and act out of rage. (Has only happened once in her entire lifetime.)
Once promised an Earth Elemental to listen to his tale, the next time she would return to the Spirit realm, during a spirit walk featuring 'yote.
Carries a warm burning ember stone within her bust.

Memorable Quotes:
None.

Other Information:
None.

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Rashka · November 14, 2017, 02:39:39 AM

Aaalso updated!

Throm'ka!

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Mazhga Rimewind

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