Race of character/NPC; Orc (ICly Mok'nathal Half-orc Half-ogre)
Class of character/NPC; Warrior.
In-Game Name of character/NPC; Grokax.
Name of character/NPC; Grok'ax Skullbreak
Exact modelID requested; 17452, scale 1.33
Duration that character will be used; Persistent. I plan to RP him on a regular basis like any other character.
Purpose for the character/NPC; Outland RP comeback, as well as coming to join the Horde further into his story. Furthermore, he will join the Horde in Cataclysm.
Location the character/NPC will reside; Wanderer, mostly Outland, especially Blade's Edge Mountains.
Level requested; 80 (so I won't be attacked by -everyone-).
Any special equipment needed; Nothing.
Profile:
Warning on history!
Class of character/NPC; Warrior.
In-Game Name of character/NPC; Grokax.
Name of character/NPC; Grok'ax Skullbreak
Exact modelID requested; 17452, scale 1.33
Duration that character will be used; Persistent. I plan to RP him on a regular basis like any other character.
Purpose for the character/NPC; Outland RP comeback, as well as coming to join the Horde further into his story. Furthermore, he will join the Horde in Cataclysm.
Location the character/NPC will reside; Wanderer, mostly Outland, especially Blade's Edge Mountains.
Level requested; 80 (so I won't be attacked by -everyone-).
Any special equipment needed; Nothing.
Profile:
Warning on history!
Spoiler:
Player: 13kira13
Character Full Name: Grok'ax Skullbreak.
Character In-Game Name: Grokax.
Nickname(s): Grok'.
Association(s): Mok'nathal Clan, neutral.
Race: Mok'nathal (Half-Orc Half-Ogre) (OOCly an orc)
Class: Warrior (ICly a Bone Crusher)
Skills and Abilities:
A bone crusher, Grok'ax needs no armor or weapons, relying onto his pure strength. Again, as all bone crushers, he is most effective when charging, doing so despite when fatique is starting to appear. Exhaustion happens very rare. Being so strong, he can lift an armored tauren off the ground if he catches him good. His fists have become so strong, they can even bend plate armor. Furthermore, his rage increases with each wound he gets, making him stronger and harder to control, even himself.
Of course, his training and new state has given him some weaknesses, such as poor maneuverability and no natural protection to magic.
Age: 59.
Sex: Male.
Hair: Black, tied up in large tail following the length of his back.
Eyes: Hazel.
Weight: 200 kilograms.
Height: 2.80 metres
Armor/Clothing: Grok' wears very little armor, mostly made of leather and cloth, his gauntlets and shoulders being the only pieces made of mail.
Other: Grok's body looks entirely like a battlefield. He is full of scars and bruises, giving him another way to be recognizable from afar, despite his immense stature.
Personality: Not being accepted by neither the orcs after the demonic corruption emerged, nor by the ogres for being half-orc, Grok'ax has become quite shy of any other race that can talk back. But being pushed back by both races has given Grok' some good parts, as well. He has great understanding and knowledge of nature. Unfortunately, though, he is a great fighter for his beliefs, his impulsive personality taking showing of, choosing to rather point out his ideas with his fists, than his brains. This, of course, has given him quite a reputation in Azeroth's towns. And even though his rage has lowered down now, his reputation is following him.
History:
Grok'ax was born due to the orcish 'experiments' with the purpose of combining the great strength of the ogres with the orcish intelligence and cunning. But the truth is, his mother clearly opposed the experiment, but was forced into it. After weeks of planning an escape, she finally came up with the best plan. She, bearing her child in the sixth month, used a little planned conflict between some ogres and orcs to slip unheard or seen past the orcs in her clan, and run straight to the forests of Blade's Edge Mountains, where she met with her true mate. They went as far away from the orcish clans as they could, building a little tent in a single, little cave and living in it. And so, the day Grok'ax was born came. Before he was born, though, his parents wanted to kill the newborn. But luckily for him, they decided that they've gone past too many for their ever-lasting love, and that they would spare the child and raise him as their own.
Grok'ax was half-ogre half-orc, it is true, but he was brought up as a true orc. By the age of ten, he was as tall as his adoptive father! His life was happy. At least until the age of eleven, when tragedy struck. His parents' old clan found them! But they were not the same. They were wearing the same standard. His parents told young Grok'ax to run for the wilds as they were taking care of the other orcs, assuring him that they will follow him close by. But, of course, that was but a way of saving the young mok'nathal's life. He did exactly as his parents told him. He ran back in the woods, where he waited for two long days for his parent's return. But they didn't come, and young Grok'ax decided to go to the cave and look for them.
When he got to the cave, the home he was familiar about, he was surprised to see some giant, brown-skinned humanoids that did not resemble the orcs that attacked him at all, but neither his parents. They resembled the young Grok'ax, instead. They were mok'nathal. But in front of them, stood Grok'ax's house, now destroyed, his parents' corpses laying dead on the ground, their bodies destroyed. The young Grok'ax slowly approached, his eyes drenched in tears. The other mok'nathal had nothing to do but watch the young boy cry for his dead parents. And there he stood for an entire day, crying. The mok'nathal left, leaving him alone. All but one. A single old woman approached him and chose to stay and comfort him. She became his new mother, his adoptive mother. She took him along in the mok'nathal clan. Grok'ax had, again, a home!
Out of pure luck, his new mother was also a spirit champion, having learned the profession from her own mother. And, again, out of pure luck, her natural son,, Grok'ax's new brother, who was a fully grown adult, was a beastmaster. But there were some bad parts in joining the Mok'nathal Clan, for mok'nathal are known to be skeptical on newcomers, at least until they prove themselves. But what could an eleven years old boy that was not trained to fight before do? But mok'nathal are always great fighters. Grok'ax, seeing the attitude the other mok'nathal have taken up on him, decided to go into training, prove the others that he was useful, and that he can prove himself in front of the dangers of Blade's Edge Mountains!
And so he began training with both his second adoptive mother, and his new brother. She thought him all about the spirits and the elements, how the world was ruled and created by them, and how he was supposed to respect them and gain their favor. He learned how to concentrate and focus his mind and how to find peace in the worse situations possible. But from some reason, he was not able to call for the elements' help, nor for the spirits'. There was something missing. But at least I learned about them, he thought. And so, without further delay and with just a basic understanding, he began taking lessons from his brother. Slowly, he learned about nature, about the beasts of the wilds and the different herbs that grow on Draenor.
Soon enough, by the age of twenty-four, Grok'ax was a brave warrior with knowledge on both shamanism and survival. But his body was still weak. He wanted to train, become stronger, ever stronger. Thinking his skills were enough to train on his own, he left the clan for the forests of Draenor to live in solitude. But things weren't so easy as Grok'ax thought. The beasts were stronger, the nights harsher. At first, it was hard for him to familiarize with it all. But this only steeled his determination. Through immense numbers of hours and massive training, Grok'ax's muscle mass tripled, his skin becoming as hard as metal.
At the age of thirty-two, Grok'ax was as strong as he has ever been. He was a fully armored ox, ready to burst into fight at any moment if deemed necessary. Finally, it was time to return to his clan. What Grok'ax found, unfortunately, was not his adoptive mother and brother waiting for him, but laying on the blooded ground, dead. Destruction and death awaited him, only. The tents were all burning, there was a dire smell of putrid in the air, as well as a strange silence. Only dead bodies littered the floor, all grossly disfigured. "What could've done all of this?", Grok'ax thought as his fingers were twitching, afterwards closing his fist swiftly. Grok'ax released the hand, seeing as there is nothing to do. He fell to his knees, defeated, looking at the sky that had a strange coloration. Grok'ax's training has been a waste.
Or so he thought. Some orcs arrived from behind a tent's wall, their armor spiky and bloodied, their weapons more brutal than Grok'ax has ever seen. But the most characteristic feature they possessed, was their red skin and the glowing eyes, showing rage and contempt. They were chaos orcs, true berserks. They didn't seem to care where they threaded, or what corpses they were stepping on. They were slowly approaching Grok'ax, their eyes flaming with madness. Upon seeing the disrespect the strange orcs have given Grok'ax's fallen mok'nathal brothers, he stood up to his feet and shouted at the orcs. They readied their weapons, and with a roar, the battle started. Grok'ax's training and experience proved quite valuable. The very first charge he made left two of the orcs unable to defend. Grok'ax had no mercy. He tore through the chaos orcs with ease, bending, breaking and destroying their armor, as well themselves.
Only afterwards has Grok'ax learned that the red skinned orcs were the result of demon blood into their system. This fact, though, only deepened Grok'ax's drawback of the orcs. "Are orcs so easy to manipulate? So greedy for power? So.. bad?", his questions were. Grok'ax had nothing to do, but return to the forests he was most familiar with, now that both of his past families were no longer.
Traveling through the Hellfire Peninsula, he stumbled across the Dark Portal, now awakened. Curious of what it might be, and especially of what it might be on the other side, Grok'ax went through, only to find himself in a truly different world. Once again, Grok'ax would not join any orcish, or any other's race numbers, choosing to stay alone in the wilderness. Before he was able to return to his homeland, though, the portal was destroyed, leaving him stranded on a strange planet with nowhere to go. Living off the land, Grok'ax managed to survive on his own, at least for some time. Not after long, Grok'ax encountered goblins. He automatically liked them, seeing as they were more neutral than Horde or Alliance allied. Even so, Grok'ax didn't manage to get any good connection with the goblins. Other than one or two that became his friends after rescuing them. Occasionally, they would help him in any means they were able to.
Some day, one of the goblins came to Grok'ax and informed him the orcs were going to steal a fleet and go to another land, a new land. Agreeing to take part in a plan, Grok'ax got onto one of the orcish ships hidden amongst the cargo. Fortunately, the ship got over the troll islands, but soon fell to the reefs of Kalimdor. Only a handful of orcs were left, amongst those Grok'ax himself. Again, the orcs looked at Grok'ax with unease, and the feeling was sent back. Once again, Grok'ax left the orcs for the wilderness, only this time it was the wilderness of Kalimdor.
And there, he remained, amongst the plains and forests of the mighty continent Kalimdor, frolicking on his own and surviving, only some times conversing with goblins. Until some day, when another goblin that has won Grok'ax's respect has told him that the portal has reawakened for some time, and that they are going to get a zeppelin through. Hearing this, Grok'ax accepted to join them, and return to his home! Reaching Draenor, now Outland, Grok'ax's eyes twitched. The land was absolutely destroyed. Very little remained the same. There were ruins all along. Draenor has become a barren land, all together. The zeppelin slowly took him to the neutral city of Shattrath, where Grok'ax spent some weeks. In the old city, most likely, at the suburbs.
Later on, though, Grok'ax wanted to go to his real home, the Blade's Edge Mountains. It was a perilous journey, but the experiences Grok'ax had before departing for Azeroth, as well as the ones on Azeroth, helped him a great deal. He was able to get to the mountains with great ease, though the changes have shaken his heart. Finally there, though, he quickly found the Mok'nathal clan, led by Leoroxx, which were settled in Mok'nathal village. Happy that he has finally found some other of his kind, which he thought extinct, Grok'ax has joined them entirely. He was finally home!
But trouble soon stirred up, as both humans and other races from Azeroth, forming something they called 'The Alliance', and orcs and their own allies, forming the usual Horde that Grok'ax was already known to, came to the village. Though shy at first, the mok'nathal finally understood some of the orcs, even if their disliking will forever be etched onto their memories.
In the end, Grok'ax's vision on the orcs as a race has become less blurred. He has become more understanding. But not of the Horde, especially after the news the goblins told him. Confirmed rumors as to which the orcish Horde has accepted undead and elves into their numbers has made the Horde take two steps back in Grok'ax's eyes.
What Grok'ax is going to do in the future, it is still to come.
Character Full Name: Grok'ax Skullbreak.
Character In-Game Name: Grokax.
Nickname(s): Grok'.
Association(s): Mok'nathal Clan, neutral.
Race: Mok'nathal (Half-Orc Half-Ogre) (OOCly an orc)
Class: Warrior (ICly a Bone Crusher)
Skills and Abilities:
A bone crusher, Grok'ax needs no armor or weapons, relying onto his pure strength. Again, as all bone crushers, he is most effective when charging, doing so despite when fatique is starting to appear. Exhaustion happens very rare. Being so strong, he can lift an armored tauren off the ground if he catches him good. His fists have become so strong, they can even bend plate armor. Furthermore, his rage increases with each wound he gets, making him stronger and harder to control, even himself.
Of course, his training and new state has given him some weaknesses, such as poor maneuverability and no natural protection to magic.
Age: 59.
Sex: Male.
Hair: Black, tied up in large tail following the length of his back.
Eyes: Hazel.
Weight: 200 kilograms.
Height: 2.80 metres
Armor/Clothing: Grok' wears very little armor, mostly made of leather and cloth, his gauntlets and shoulders being the only pieces made of mail.
Other: Grok's body looks entirely like a battlefield. He is full of scars and bruises, giving him another way to be recognizable from afar, despite his immense stature.
Personality: Not being accepted by neither the orcs after the demonic corruption emerged, nor by the ogres for being half-orc, Grok'ax has become quite shy of any other race that can talk back. But being pushed back by both races has given Grok' some good parts, as well. He has great understanding and knowledge of nature. Unfortunately, though, he is a great fighter for his beliefs, his impulsive personality taking showing of, choosing to rather point out his ideas with his fists, than his brains. This, of course, has given him quite a reputation in Azeroth's towns. And even though his rage has lowered down now, his reputation is following him.
History:
Grok'ax was born due to the orcish 'experiments' with the purpose of combining the great strength of the ogres with the orcish intelligence and cunning. But the truth is, his mother clearly opposed the experiment, but was forced into it. After weeks of planning an escape, she finally came up with the best plan. She, bearing her child in the sixth month, used a little planned conflict between some ogres and orcs to slip unheard or seen past the orcs in her clan, and run straight to the forests of Blade's Edge Mountains, where she met with her true mate. They went as far away from the orcish clans as they could, building a little tent in a single, little cave and living in it. And so, the day Grok'ax was born came. Before he was born, though, his parents wanted to kill the newborn. But luckily for him, they decided that they've gone past too many for their ever-lasting love, and that they would spare the child and raise him as their own.
Grok'ax was half-ogre half-orc, it is true, but he was brought up as a true orc. By the age of ten, he was as tall as his adoptive father! His life was happy. At least until the age of eleven, when tragedy struck. His parents' old clan found them! But they were not the same. They were wearing the same standard. His parents told young Grok'ax to run for the wilds as they were taking care of the other orcs, assuring him that they will follow him close by. But, of course, that was but a way of saving the young mok'nathal's life. He did exactly as his parents told him. He ran back in the woods, where he waited for two long days for his parent's return. But they didn't come, and young Grok'ax decided to go to the cave and look for them.
When he got to the cave, the home he was familiar about, he was surprised to see some giant, brown-skinned humanoids that did not resemble the orcs that attacked him at all, but neither his parents. They resembled the young Grok'ax, instead. They were mok'nathal. But in front of them, stood Grok'ax's house, now destroyed, his parents' corpses laying dead on the ground, their bodies destroyed. The young Grok'ax slowly approached, his eyes drenched in tears. The other mok'nathal had nothing to do but watch the young boy cry for his dead parents. And there he stood for an entire day, crying. The mok'nathal left, leaving him alone. All but one. A single old woman approached him and chose to stay and comfort him. She became his new mother, his adoptive mother. She took him along in the mok'nathal clan. Grok'ax had, again, a home!
Out of pure luck, his new mother was also a spirit champion, having learned the profession from her own mother. And, again, out of pure luck, her natural son,, Grok'ax's new brother, who was a fully grown adult, was a beastmaster. But there were some bad parts in joining the Mok'nathal Clan, for mok'nathal are known to be skeptical on newcomers, at least until they prove themselves. But what could an eleven years old boy that was not trained to fight before do? But mok'nathal are always great fighters. Grok'ax, seeing the attitude the other mok'nathal have taken up on him, decided to go into training, prove the others that he was useful, and that he can prove himself in front of the dangers of Blade's Edge Mountains!
And so he began training with both his second adoptive mother, and his new brother. She thought him all about the spirits and the elements, how the world was ruled and created by them, and how he was supposed to respect them and gain their favor. He learned how to concentrate and focus his mind and how to find peace in the worse situations possible. But from some reason, he was not able to call for the elements' help, nor for the spirits'. There was something missing. But at least I learned about them, he thought. And so, without further delay and with just a basic understanding, he began taking lessons from his brother. Slowly, he learned about nature, about the beasts of the wilds and the different herbs that grow on Draenor.
Soon enough, by the age of twenty-four, Grok'ax was a brave warrior with knowledge on both shamanism and survival. But his body was still weak. He wanted to train, become stronger, ever stronger. Thinking his skills were enough to train on his own, he left the clan for the forests of Draenor to live in solitude. But things weren't so easy as Grok'ax thought. The beasts were stronger, the nights harsher. At first, it was hard for him to familiarize with it all. But this only steeled his determination. Through immense numbers of hours and massive training, Grok'ax's muscle mass tripled, his skin becoming as hard as metal.
At the age of thirty-two, Grok'ax was as strong as he has ever been. He was a fully armored ox, ready to burst into fight at any moment if deemed necessary. Finally, it was time to return to his clan. What Grok'ax found, unfortunately, was not his adoptive mother and brother waiting for him, but laying on the blooded ground, dead. Destruction and death awaited him, only. The tents were all burning, there was a dire smell of putrid in the air, as well as a strange silence. Only dead bodies littered the floor, all grossly disfigured. "What could've done all of this?", Grok'ax thought as his fingers were twitching, afterwards closing his fist swiftly. Grok'ax released the hand, seeing as there is nothing to do. He fell to his knees, defeated, looking at the sky that had a strange coloration. Grok'ax's training has been a waste.
Or so he thought. Some orcs arrived from behind a tent's wall, their armor spiky and bloodied, their weapons more brutal than Grok'ax has ever seen. But the most characteristic feature they possessed, was their red skin and the glowing eyes, showing rage and contempt. They were chaos orcs, true berserks. They didn't seem to care where they threaded, or what corpses they were stepping on. They were slowly approaching Grok'ax, their eyes flaming with madness. Upon seeing the disrespect the strange orcs have given Grok'ax's fallen mok'nathal brothers, he stood up to his feet and shouted at the orcs. They readied their weapons, and with a roar, the battle started. Grok'ax's training and experience proved quite valuable. The very first charge he made left two of the orcs unable to defend. Grok'ax had no mercy. He tore through the chaos orcs with ease, bending, breaking and destroying their armor, as well themselves.
Only afterwards has Grok'ax learned that the red skinned orcs were the result of demon blood into their system. This fact, though, only deepened Grok'ax's drawback of the orcs. "Are orcs so easy to manipulate? So greedy for power? So.. bad?", his questions were. Grok'ax had nothing to do, but return to the forests he was most familiar with, now that both of his past families were no longer.
Traveling through the Hellfire Peninsula, he stumbled across the Dark Portal, now awakened. Curious of what it might be, and especially of what it might be on the other side, Grok'ax went through, only to find himself in a truly different world. Once again, Grok'ax would not join any orcish, or any other's race numbers, choosing to stay alone in the wilderness. Before he was able to return to his homeland, though, the portal was destroyed, leaving him stranded on a strange planet with nowhere to go. Living off the land, Grok'ax managed to survive on his own, at least for some time. Not after long, Grok'ax encountered goblins. He automatically liked them, seeing as they were more neutral than Horde or Alliance allied. Even so, Grok'ax didn't manage to get any good connection with the goblins. Other than one or two that became his friends after rescuing them. Occasionally, they would help him in any means they were able to.
Some day, one of the goblins came to Grok'ax and informed him the orcs were going to steal a fleet and go to another land, a new land. Agreeing to take part in a plan, Grok'ax got onto one of the orcish ships hidden amongst the cargo. Fortunately, the ship got over the troll islands, but soon fell to the reefs of Kalimdor. Only a handful of orcs were left, amongst those Grok'ax himself. Again, the orcs looked at Grok'ax with unease, and the feeling was sent back. Once again, Grok'ax left the orcs for the wilderness, only this time it was the wilderness of Kalimdor.
And there, he remained, amongst the plains and forests of the mighty continent Kalimdor, frolicking on his own and surviving, only some times conversing with goblins. Until some day, when another goblin that has won Grok'ax's respect has told him that the portal has reawakened for some time, and that they are going to get a zeppelin through. Hearing this, Grok'ax accepted to join them, and return to his home! Reaching Draenor, now Outland, Grok'ax's eyes twitched. The land was absolutely destroyed. Very little remained the same. There were ruins all along. Draenor has become a barren land, all together. The zeppelin slowly took him to the neutral city of Shattrath, where Grok'ax spent some weeks. In the old city, most likely, at the suburbs.
Later on, though, Grok'ax wanted to go to his real home, the Blade's Edge Mountains. It was a perilous journey, but the experiences Grok'ax had before departing for Azeroth, as well as the ones on Azeroth, helped him a great deal. He was able to get to the mountains with great ease, though the changes have shaken his heart. Finally there, though, he quickly found the Mok'nathal clan, led by Leoroxx, which were settled in Mok'nathal village. Happy that he has finally found some other of his kind, which he thought extinct, Grok'ax has joined them entirely. He was finally home!
But trouble soon stirred up, as both humans and other races from Azeroth, forming something they called 'The Alliance', and orcs and their own allies, forming the usual Horde that Grok'ax was already known to, came to the village. Though shy at first, the mok'nathal finally understood some of the orcs, even if their disliking will forever be etched onto their memories.
In the end, Grok'ax's vision on the orcs as a race has become less blurred. He has become more understanding. But not of the Horde, especially after the news the goblins told him. Confirmed rumors as to which the orcish Horde has accepted undead and elves into their numbers has made the Horde take two steps back in Grok'ax's eyes.
What Grok'ax is going to do in the future, it is still to come.
![[Image: lorn_signature.png]](http://www.powerwordstudio.com/avatars/lorn_signature.png)
