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Player: Rosencrat

Character Full Name: Moriok Forepicker

Character In-Game Name: Moriok

Nickname(s): Mor, Scav, Rag

Association(s): Orgimmar, Shattered Hand Clan

Race: Orc

Class: Hunter

Alignment: Neutral Good

Age: 27

Sex: Female

Hair: A mane of short, dark purple hair

Eyes: Golden yellow

Weight: 230 lb

Height: 6'6”


Scornful of the ‘designer' armor sets bought by most heroes of Azeroth, Moriok has set out to make her own fashion statement of sorts. A scavenger at heart, the orc makes and fiends all components that she wears. Mismatched and lacking in any sort of aesthetic beauty, the leather and metal carapaces that Moriok favors is function over all else.

Adding to the mismatched wardrobe is her packs. An odd assortment of bags, backpacks and satchels all over her person contain and house all the odd trinkets, tools and treasures that she finds, sells and keeps. Little tools also dangle from her belt and gloves, rolled into segments of her clothing and tucked away in boots and gloves. Function over form, any and every day of the week.


Moriok's defining aspect is her pack-rat mentality, a trait that almost borders on the neurotic. The orc collects everything, from rusty weapons to little toys in the belief that they can be sold, re-fitted or used at a later time. Whenever she finds something edible she will either devour it or keep it later for consuming. To her, the act of survival ranks above all else.

She also takes a passive role in her wanderings, letting the winds of fate carry her from adventure to adventure. A firm believer in Ancestral Pre-destination, Moriok is assured that her ancestors are guiding her actions for a higher purpose. Every object she finds she believes they are giving her for later use; every boon they give is a reward and every woe they deal is a trial. She feels that they will carry her through to her purpose.

A sarcastic and head-strong hunter, Moriok firmly believes in her own strength and ability to survive. She honors the purity of combat and keeps an even temper in a fight. She is an adventurer, a collector and a playful soul.

Other: Though the right of passage was never enforced, Moriok –in an attempt to follow the rules of her Clan- mutilated her right hand. She dipped her hand in acid, submersing it all the way to the forearm before washing it in water. The skin of her hand is cracked and covered in sores, every inch matted beneath scar tissue.

She firmly believes that her fate is controlled by her Ancestor Spirits. She prefers to follow their perceived path, taking a passive role in where she travels.

She is a hoarder, picking up and keeping even the oddest little trifle and tool that catches her fancy. She sells what people need, keeping only a percentage of her loot for her private collection.


Moriok was the second child of her family, the youngest born to the warriors Gakalma and Kurkan. The parents held a modest standing in the Shattered Hand Clan, the two serving the clan as warrior and scout respectively. Schooling was simple and the lessons invaluable; what little time the two fighters had was dedicated to instructing their two daughters in the art of survival. Hunting, mining, weapons making and combat were all drilled with a stern but tender hand into the girls, any hints of weakness and laziness smothered out through toil. To the parents, the chance to go to war in the world of Azeroth was just another chance to teach their girls. When the Shattered Hand clan passed through the Dark Portal Moriok was there upon her mother's shoulders.

A year and a war later and little Moriok, now four, sat upon her father's shoulders as they and the rest of the bloodied remnants of the Old Horde were marched into the Lordamere Internment Camp. Her mother and sister had been slain in the Second War, casualties of the Alliance's counter attack against the disorganized masses. Moriok's schoolroom, once on the fields on Draenor was now the trash heaps and slave mines of Camp Lordamere. It was here that her faith was built and kindled; day after day her luck brought her to new and exciting treasures, the winds of fate carrying her through dangers. She suffered, yes, but she saw her pains as tests of strength. She felt that her Ancestors were guiding her to wealth of body and mind.

The lethargy of the orcs consumed her farther soon enough. Mariok, untouched by the corruption of the fel persevered. The youth spent her days in the mines, dragging out basketfuls of rock from the tunnels. At night, after work she found her way to the trash heaps, foraging away in the odds and ends of the Alliance soldiers. Her only toys were the little baubles she could craft from bits of tin, cloth and food rinds, her only friends the fellow picker children. Every day she would scrounge the heaps, bringing back her meals and toys to share with her father. In this way she survived, keeping herself from the depths of defeat that other children were falling into.

By the age of eighteen Moriok was already a mother. She earned comfort from her trade, digging out pieces of gold, jewelry, documents and treasures from the bins of trash which she sold back to the Alliance soldiers in exchange for extra rations and work reprieves for her father. Through her care her father, consumed by the lethargy, remained fit and healthy. Beneath the lax control of the guards she had amassed a small treasure-trove of trinkets and toys, little tools and treasures that she reveled in crafting, collecting and trading amongst the other children. Her horde kept the despair away, giving her something in life to call her own when she had little else. It was the only feeling of joy that she felt when she gazed upon her treasures; the only joy she felt until the day that word of the New Horde reached the camp.

Moriok was one of the many orc youth who helped design the armament of Camp Lordamere. For months they stole armor and weapons from the guards, hiding them away around in pockets around the camp. She and her friends sabotaged the defenses, whittling away at the watchtowers and walls. When the time came and Thrall was beginning to lay siege to the camp she and her friends did everything they could to help. When the camp fell she and her father deserted, leaving to join the New Horde. It was the first time she had seen her father strong and passionate in almost a decade; that alone gave her reason to commit herself and her strengths to the new Warchief Thrall.

Moriok and her father Kurkan soon found their place in the New Horde, serving Thrall with a new ferocious passion. She worked as a scout during the Third War, traveling with the Horde while her father fought as a grunt. She was one of many trackers who helped in the Battle of Mount Hyjal, ferrying orders and information back and forth between the lines. When the call came to build Orgimmar the two were there, ready to lend their might to the project. The family has carved a living in Orgimmar ever since, operating a curio and salvage shop. While the now elderly Kurkan works the counter Moriok stalks the world, letting the winds of fate carry her to the next adventure and heap.

A scavenger from youth to adulthood, she values her luck and skills to keep her safe and bring her the treasures that she still cherishes. She collects everything, a voracious scavenger who treasures both the trinkets she uncovers and the lessons she learns.