Muz

Information

Player: Frogspawned

Character Full Name: Muz

Character In-Game Name: Muz

Nickname(s): Muz

Association(s): The Horde, The Darkspear Tribe

Race: Troll

Class: Shaman

Age: 20

Sex: Male

Hair: Long, Braided, Green

Eyes: Red

Weight: 265 lbs

Height: 7'9” (Full length) 7'1” (Usual, hunched)

Appearence

Tribal kilts of deep reds and browns often cover his lower body, while his chest is seldom covered in much except feathery tribal fetishes and necklaces of leather and bone. Crude leather spaulders are usually worn to protect his shoulders, and clumsily fashioned stone weapons generally hang from his belt beside pouches of various herbs. He's only rarely seen without some form of shield slung across his back, whether small and metal, or a relatively large framework with leather skins pulled taut across it and painted.

Other: Tribal war-paint almost always smeared across his face. Large tusks.

Personality

Muz is patient and thoughtful to the point of being withdrawn, even shy. The only moments his trollish temper tends to show through are when facing naga, murlocs, or when the spirits are particularly disturbed, agitated or mocked - as they are around demons and the like. He's also quite partial to cheesecake, and has more than a passing interest in trollish history. On balance he's fairly glad they've left the old ways behind, but still has a fascination with the Voodoo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

History

Muz was born on the island home of the Darkspear; being the son of Faz; a powerful spear-thrower and hunter, and another troll whose name his father never bothered to learn.

She was Kemeni, youngest sister to Pol'li: a notorious witch-doctor and one of the notorious zulfi. He was raised at camp by the women, eventually entertaining visits by his father who hoped he might some day become a skilled hunter as well; becoming an asset to the tribe and reflect honour upon him. Unfortunately, Muz took to spears a lot less easily than other trollish youths, and eventually his father stopped coming. Being only nine at the time, Muz took this fairly hard, having tried his best with the clumsy weapons – living for the evenings where he could practice with his giant of a father.

In the months to come he sunk into a quiet grief that quite worried his mother, and who went to ask her elder sister for advice. Her sister agreed, coming to talk to Kemeni's son. She detected nothing intrinsically wrong with the boy; no malignant spirit troubling his mind. All there was was a great sadness eating away at the young troll's heart. She resolved to do something to help him, regardless, but before she could - strange ship landed on their island-forest home. Strange pink creatures emerged from them, diminutive and weak, but encased in shining metal. Sen'Jin warned the trolls to stay away. A few would not listen and were killed by the interlopers, and this news spread through the tribe to the various camps, making the people nervous.

Shortly after, however, other ships arrived. Unlike the first, which had carried frail, snivelling creatures - these bore warriors. Burly green giants bearing axes and cleavers. Sen'Jin himself went out to greet them, having prophecised their arrival. Many trolls joined the Orcs out of choice, gleefully hunting down the pitiful human forces. Despite their victories, however, any triumph was short lived. Many hundreds of Murlocs, followers of the Sea Witch, descended on the Darkspear. Trolls, orcs and human warriors alike were driven before her and scattered, with countless members captured and taken to their underground lair to be sacrificed.

Kemeni and Muz were among those captured, locked away below the island's volcano in dismal caves full to bursting with their panicked kin. Surrounded by the bleating wails of infants and the vicious vows of vengeance employed by the larger trolls; they feared for their lives. Every so often, the murlocs would return - their wide, staring, lidless eyes dispassionate as they selected another prisoner, their families putting up vain resistance against their fishy tormentors.

Eventually, Kemeni was selected. She was silent by now, resigned to her fate - but Muz was not. His scrawny body fuelled by rage, he flung himself against the murlocs, but being a child - and a feeble one at that - he was simply stabbed and mauled, left bleeding on the warm stone floor. A small group of orcs had also attempted an attack, and while they were just driven away from the fishy interlopers and left to lick their wounds, Muz was badly hurt; and though but a child his hardy troll constitution saw him through. Nevertheless, when Thrall arrived, liberating the prisoners - he fell behind, barely able to stumble after the main group. Pushing himself past the point of endurance, eventually, he simply fainted.

When next he woke, there was the smell of salt and the splash of water, as well as the suggestion of movement. A wolf was leaning over him, claws pressed against his injured body. After an initial panic, he realised that the wolfs' head was but a mask; when the orc wearing it spoke to soothe him. 'Be calm, young troll,' they said. 'You are safe here. I was one of those nearby when you showed your worthy spirit. Rest. You will need it.' A sense of trustworthiness saturating each of the shaman's words, and feeling weak - he did.

Once the Horde made landfall on Kalimdor, Muz followed his orcish saviour across the barrens, who in turn followed his warchief, Thrall. They encountered tauren, centaurs and quillboar - befriending the first and doing battle with the rest. Like the trolls, the Tauren were saved by the mighty greenskins, and Muz - brooding and almost silent as he was - began to develop an admiration for these peerless fighters and mystics.

Though his disappointment in failing his father was all but forgotten with the loss of his more caring parent, the fact of getting over it did not serve to pull him from his grief. Listening intently when the shaman he followed across the barren wastelands spoke of the spirits, of ancestors - of orcish beliefs and traditions, however, served to soothe his mind some. He came to believe that his mother - like all ancestors - was now at peace; watching over the world and their tribe - and this was reassuring.

Eventually - the burning legion's second invasion of Azeroth was defeated atop mount Hyjal, and the trolls settled on the Echo isles. Muz was reluctant to live there rather than the newly founded city of Orgrimmar, and did not go until his aunt came to find him. Pol'li explained that although what had happened could not be changed, it could be prevented from happening again if the trolls were to better themselves and keep their new allies.

Although the combined efforts of Admiral Daelin Proudmoore and the necromantic witch-doctor Zalazane meant that the Echo Isles were not the home many trolls had hoped for; most of the trolls survived their respective onslaughts and went on to live in Sen'Jin village on mainland Durotar - as did Pol'li and her nephew - or with the orcs in their newly founded warrior city.

Pol'li had adjusted quickly to the shamanic lifestyle, accepting their ways quickly during the later days of the third war as a witch doctor of the horde. She discovered Muz's enthusiasm for the orcs and their beliefs, and taught him not only about herbs and spirits and the magic they lend to their allies, but also a little of the loa and their tricks, so that the later generation should not forget where it came from.

Though Muz was not truly ready to help during the latest conflicts in Outland or in Northrend, he has now completed his training and suffered the rigors of the valley of trials where new entrants to the horde are tested. He is now a proud member and shaman, eager to prove himself and guide his people into the future.

Skills and Abilities

Muz, raised as a witch-doctor's apprentice in the shamanistic horde – possesses moderate skill with manipulating the elemental powers of air, earth and particularly water. His thoughtful disposition does not endear him to angry and impetuous fire, however, and he has had trouble invoking that particular element at times.

He knows how to brew certain herbs into crude potions and remedies, but this is not true alchemy in the strictest sense. He knows how to stew various herbs together to make helpful tonics but has no appreciation of the wider science behind it.

His training having lacked much by way of combat training, he is barely competent in hand to hand combat, preferring to lend support to allies better suited to the front line.