Vrothenar Ogrebreaker
-Race: Frostwolf Orc
-Class: Warrior/Spirit Champion
-Eyes: Blue
-Height: 7' 5
-Residence: Somewhere in Winterspring
-Weapons: Hunting Knife, Guardian Shield (Retractable shield attached to left arm that deploys when needed), Mastercrafted Warsong great axe that screams when swung a certain way (Ax is covered in a strange blue mist that swirls around and causes the weapon to glow a haunting ethereal blue)
-About: Honor, Ferocity, and Discipline...these are the traits of a Frostwolf Warrior. Vrothenar carries these ideals with him in as much as he is able...though there was one time in his life where his feral nature got the better of him.
Early life was as any other Frostwolf...hunt, eat, sleep, repeat. Mother and father were proud members of the clan...strong and generous it had been only a few years after his birth that this orc was killing game that even more ekder hunters would hesitate to track down.
TRagedy would strike without mercy as the boy witnessed his father and mother being beaten to death by ogres and his mother nearly being raped by the same raid were it not for the bold sacrifice of his father. When their broken bodies laid before him, Vrothenar remembered precious little of what followed. All that Vrothenar remembered is whan the rez haze dispersed he stood in the center of a massacre. The small raid of ogres strewn about on the field before him killed by various barbaric means including disembowelment and the ripping out of their throats which Vrothenar could only assume was his teeth as the metallic scene and taste eminated from his mouth.
After this he was finally found by another family within the clan who would regularly visit. It was then that Vrothenar would be adopted by one of the clans elders where he would continue to be instilled with the teachings of their clan...the responsibilities and the undaunted vigilance to protect family and clan.
The orc grew and eventually he would have learned all that the elders could teach him, but a rage boiled deep within and the Frostwolves knew that this would become a burden unless he was able to properly harness this rage in the correct direction...so he was then sent to the Warsong...there he would learn to expand upon this ferocity on the fields of battle.
-About: Honor, Ferocity, and Discipline...these are the traits of a Frostwolf Warrior. Vrothenar carries these ideals with him in as much as he is able...though there was one time in his life where his feral nature got the better of him.
Early life was as any other Frostwolf...hunt, eat, sleep, repeat. Mother and father were proud members of the clan...strong and generous it had been only a few years after his birth that this orc was killing game that even more ekder hunters would hesitate to track down.
TRagedy would strike without mercy as the boy witnessed his father and mother being beaten to death by ogres and his mother nearly being raped by the same raid were it not for the bold sacrifice of his father. When their broken bodies laid before him, Vrothenar remembered precious little of what followed. All that Vrothenar remembered is whan the rez haze dispersed he stood in the center of a massacre. The small raid of ogres strewn about on the field before him killed by various barbaric means including disembowelment and the ripping out of their throats which Vrothenar could only assume was his teeth as the metallic scene and taste eminated from his mouth.
After this he was finally found by another family within the clan who would regularly visit. It was then that Vrothenar would be adopted by one of the clans elders where he would continue to be instilled with the teachings of their clan...the responsibilities and the undaunted vigilance to protect family and clan.
The orc grew and eventually he would have learned all that the elders could teach him, but a rage boiled deep within and the Frostwolves knew that this would become a burden unless he was able to properly harness this rage in the correct direction...so he was then sent to the Warsong...there he would learn to expand upon this ferocity on the fields of battle.
Children
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