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Player: GeneralDefyre

Character Full Name: Lotamu Spirithorn

Character In-Game Name: Lotamu

Nickname(s): N/A

Association(s): Cenarion Circle

Race: Tauren

Class: Druid

Skills/Abilities: Lotamu is a fairly experienced druid, and can shapeshift relatively easily due to his training.

Age: 74

Sex: Male

Hair: Black mane, with black chops and braids down the front

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 638 lbs

Height: 8'7"


Usual Garments/Armor: Lotamu usually wears his hand-made 'green' armor, with leaves, leather, and wood holding everything together and providing protection and warmth.

Other: He has black 'runic' tattoos on his chest and arms, spiraling up to his neck.


Alignment: Neutral Good

Lotamu is a very kind-hearted, fluffy Tauren. He enjoys helping others out, but most of all, he absolutely adores animals. If he sees a cute animal, he would love it's owner to allow him to hug it. He also likes cuddling with everyone. Although kind-hearted, every now and then he can get angered, mostly by fel-users, or corrupted actions he witnesses. He doesn't much like what the Horde does, but if he finds an Orc or Troll, or any other "Horde" member doing good, he won't despise them. Essentially, he waits until he knows someone before judging.


Lotamu was born into a spiritual, nomadic tribe of Tauren, who wandered the desert plains of Mulgore, The Barrens, and Durotar(before it was named as such). At this point, the tribe had a village where the Orc's would take refuge in the future, but for now, it would be home to Lotamu and his family. His father was the Elder of the tribe, and was a very wise, powerful shaman. Lotamu's mother was a shamaness, assisting her mate in any way she could with tribal matters.

Lotamu was raised into the path of a druid, even though both his parents were shamans. They believed that Lotamu would be a great druid, claiming the spirits had told them so. At a very young age he began learning the skills it took to fight as one, as well as the skills it took to lead as one. He grew up respecting his elders, and doing anything he was told to do. Though his tribe moved around a lot due to environmental conditions, as well as hostile beasts, Lotamu and his family always managed to bring the tribe back around to their small series of huts in Durotar, along the Eastern coast.

One day when his tribe was preparing for a hunt, harpies and raptors attacked his village. The young Tauren were taken by their mothers to a concealed den in a nearby mountain, where they would be kept safe by a small group of shaman and druids, prepared to die for the safety of the young. Lotamu was one of these druids. He watched in horror as his village was decimated, the few in the den unable to assist because they had their own assets to protect.

When the last of the harpies had left, Lotamu and the others ventured to where their village used to be. Nothing but burning piles of wood, and the dead bodies of friends, family, and the beasts that attacked them. Lotamu's father and mother were both killed, side by side, fighting the largest of the beasts, the ever-feared, harpy queen. The feathered beast lay dead on the ground, a large axe in her skull. Lotamu's father had killed the beast when he saw it slay his mate, taking his life in the process when she struck out one last time, piercing his heart with her long talons.

Lotamu broke down into tears, charging away from the slaughter. As he ran farther and farther south, turning into a canyon to run to a desert known as the Barrens, he had an odd vision. It was his father and mother, side by side, looking at him with pride. He stopped running, collapsing on the ground as he entered a trance, the figures speaking to him, “Lotamu. You have trained far too long to give up now... You have mastered your own prowess, and the spirits have graced you... You are now a druid. We hope you will bring honor to the name, Spirithorn. Farewell, Lotamu and may your adventures bring you fortune.” The vision fading with those last words.

Lotamu awoke from his trance, and it was dark. He heard howling in the distance, followed by screams, and ran away, charging across the River and running across the Barrens. He would eventually get to Mulgore, and live amongst the beasts there, adapting to life, alone in the wilderness. He would live there until Thunder Bluff would rise onto the plateaus, and Orgrimmar established, not too far from his old home. And he would hate it. The horde would do nothing but slaughter innocent men, women, and children, just as his village was slaughtered.

When the Cataclysm hit, Lotamu was atop one of the many mountains along the border of the Barrens and Mulgore, and he witnessed the great dragon-beast carve a large rift in the Barrens, scarring the land forever. Lotamu was terrified, as were many others, but used his prowess as a druid to aid all he met, as well as trying to heal the land near the rift. He would live his life despising the Horde, despising war, and loving wildlife and peace. He now wanders the lands, traveling great distances, if only to find a place to call home, and a new family.