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Started by Ghora, December 30, 2009, 03:54:02 PM

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Hi, Orcs of the Red Blade.

Firstly, I'd like to point out that Ghorana doesn't exist yet. At the moment, I'm experiencing difficulties faction changing my Draenei shaman into an orc. So, basically, my getting accepted into your guild will decide whether I go ahead with the transfer or not. :)
This Draenei shaman might be known to you, since she's called Onelu, and was the leader of the Pilgrimage to Oshu'gun a few weeks back.
Secondly, I'd like to apologize for the incoming wall of text.

Character: Ghorana (future name, haven't tested to see if it's available, liable to change).
Class: Shaman
Level: 80

I've been playing WoW since October 2005, and I have only ever raised one character to maximum level: my shaman. I started out with him as a Tauren shaman on a French realm (I'm a French kid). I've only ever known shaman at end-game raiding, be it level 60, 70 or 80. With the high-end instances now being quite accessible to a casual player like me, I have been able to experience every end-boss of every L-80 instance in the game so far, in varying levels of difficuly.

Roleplaying experience.

Fast rewind to about a year and a half ago: I suddenly develop an acute interest for roleplaying. Forgoing French RP-realms, I set my sights on the EU-English ones, and a few days later, Totemar is known as Ironail, an elderly Tauren teacher on Earthen Ring [EU]. The character develops himself, I become a regular and, if I may be so vain, respected member of the ER Horde community.
3 months ago, something happens IRL, in conjunction with the dying out of the Horde RP on ER, that makes me transfer back to my old french realm. This is where I get back into intensive raiding for a month. But I miss RP too much, and start looking for a new RP realm.

Defias Brotherhood sees the arrival of a shaman, Draenei now, about a month ago. I try to get involved into the Alliance's RP-scene, with more or less success.
And now... I realise that my heart lies with the Horde, as it has always done. I miss the rough-edgedness of this faction, the primal feeling of races such as Trolls/Orcs/Tauren, and the insidious nature of the Forsaken.

Ghorana Windaxe.

An elderly shaman from a village in Nagrand, Ghorana is wracked by guilt about the destruction of Draenor and the genocide of the Draenei. She sees herself as partly responsible for not being able to placate the elements to save her village. The following story happens during the dislocation of Draenor.


She stumbled on the rocky slope, and blinked rain out her eyes. Thunder boomed across Nagrand, rolling across the plains in great peals.

And the earth screamed in tortured pain.

She gritted her teeth, and ploughed on. The summit wasn’t far off now. Wind roared up the mountain, pushing her onwards, stinging the sleet into her arms.

And the seas roiled and hissed in boiling anger.

Deep cracks in her mind echoed across the world. What was happening? Why were the elements so angry? Who had unleashed their fury?

And the wind howled like a wounded animal over the bleeding landscapes.

The peak was in sight. Her palms bled on the jagged rock, her bones ached with each peal of thunder. Every lightening bolt was like a swordthrust into her brain. A deep sound, unearthly yet terrifyingly familiar, rose from the land.

And fire consumed itself in wrath, scorching the wind, melting the very bones of the earth.

She dropped to her knees, clutching her head, and closed her eyes. The terrible cacophony of the screaming elements instantly replaced everything. She couldn’t bear it. She opened her eyes again, as rain continued to hammer the land flat with its bolts of iron.
Her land, her ancestors’ land, her children’s land, was being torn asunder. She watched, helpless, aghast, as the village she had to protect, the village she had tended to for years, broke away. The earth and rock screamed and bellowed, cracked and boomed, and suddenly sank. Crumbling away, as if a titanic force was breaking up a piece of bread, the rockshelf disappeared from sight, and lava sprayed like blood from the vessels of the planet. The roar rose to a climax, until she felt her head, her soul, her mind split like the world.

And she knew no more.

When Ghorana woke from her dreamless sleep, a sight that would haunt her until her dying breath greeted her.
The sea, the beach, the village were gone. She was staring at the edge of the world, a shattered reach, a ragged wound like that of an amputee. There was nothing but void.
She got up, to her knees, bitter tears stinging her eyes.

She had been unable to placate the elements.
She had utterly, despicably, failed her kin.


Ah, and I'd also like to add that I'm a hardcore explorer when I'm not roleplaying.

Like... really hardcore (although not very skilled).


Character faction changed.


Good application in my eyes, you can whisper me on Rargnasha for an ingame interview.

And glad to see that you went green!
Appendix means... What?!