Brazk

Information

Player: Aphetoros

Character Full Name: Brazk Spirithoof

Character In-Game Name: Brazk

Nickname(s): -

Association(s): The Tauren, The Horde

Race: Tauren

Class: Runemaster

Age: 51

Sex: Male

Hair: Dirty Gray

Eyes: Dull Amber

Weight: 457-ish pounds (well-muscled)

Height: 7 and 1/4 feet, still growing a bit. He'd grow to only 7 and 1/2 feet, maximum.

Appearance

He wears a traditional shamanistic kilt of the Tauren people, and usually walks around shirtless, though he isn't bothered by wearing one if he needs to. Long crimson tattoos swirl around his torso, occasionally outlining his muscles as they spread down his arms. They spread beneath his kilt, reemerging on his legs. The scarlet runes are even present on his hooves.

Personality

Brazk occasionally acts more serious than he should, mostly to impress others, but truly he's rather naive fun-loving. He's very curious, having been sheltered in his home outside of Bloodhoof Village with his mother and younger brother. He is amazed by the natural world, but not in the way that druids or shaman see it. Once, a Tauren passed through the village with his body covered in dark red tattoos that flowed like water across his flesh. The Tauren claimed to be a Runemaster, and after some of the traits of the Runemaster were explained, Brazk lusted to be one, he felt as if exploring the world in this way would bring him answers to every question in his mind, including the driving force for his sudden departure from Mulgore.

History

Brazk was born to a young Tauren woman named Akira fifty one years ago in Bloodhoof Village. His father, Crescenthorn Spirithoof and Chieftain of his tribe, stuck around for the first few years of his life, and so they had a marginally good relationship. Around the age of fifteen, Crescenthorn ended up leaving to sate his wanderlust and curiosity of the Alliance races, races whom Akira had raised him not to hate, but to mistrust. Except for the Night Elves, "for their people are near as noble as the Tauren." She did, however, teach him (at a certain point) to dislike the dwarves. The small men and women care little for the planet, digging heir foul tools and machines into her precious soil to plunder for riches and secrets.

Had Crescenthorn been around, surely he'd have been raised as an Alliance-murdering soldier due to the old Tauren's terrible experiences with them. Instead however, Brazk stayed with the family, as the oldest he often helped his mother raise his younger brother-- a product of one of Crescenthorn's visits. Occasionally his father would show up, and those were happy times in his life, though eventually these visits ceased. When Brazk grew to the age of thirty-seven, he felt more adult than child. He had been in Bloodhoof Village, talking to a few friends while he performed his errands (buying fresh meat, collecting water and materials for sewing and the like). A massive Tauren male entered the town, tattoos covering much of his flesh. The man was literally gigantic compared to the young Brazk. A crowd of people flocked about the traveler, and he dismissed most of them.

It was later when he finally told his stories, recounting what he'd seen outside of Mulgore and outside of Kalimdor, even. The tales fascinated Brazk, and later he approached the man when he was alone. They had an awkward conversation, mostly because of Brazk's nervousness. "I want to be like you." It was probably something the man heard often, and so the Tauren merely smiled and patted Brazk on the head. "Perhaps you might be." After a few more minutes of conversation, the younger Tauren found out that the man was a Runemaster by the name of Muln Highmountain. Brazk begged him to teach him, even as the difficulty of the task was repeated by Muln over and over, Brazk's begging wouldn't relent. Eventually, though, Muln's denials did; He agreed to train the Tauren as a Runemaster. The training took place over the next thirteen years, and over that time, the two slowly entered a romantic relationship. It wasn't intentional, though; they simply grew fond of one another during their time spent together. They didn't often leave Mulgore, and when they did they made sure that Akira was adequately prepared to last until their return.

His training ended on his fiftieth year of life, though he'd mastered most of the runic patterns his teacher had shown him, or in the case of some patterns merely helped him see, his combative abilities were still in need of training. They traveled a few days to Stonetalon, up to the Windshear Crag. Both Tauren despised the Venture Co. for all they've done to the environment, and the horrors they've committed and still commit against the Earthmother. With a warrior's battle-cry Muln charged into battle, runes blazing with arcane fury. Brazk mimicked as best he could, even repeating the roar. The goblins came at them with their pickaxes and grenades, though the Tauren moved too quickly to be caught by the blasts and weapons. The employees began to flee from the growing mound of smashed olive flesh below them, and the two grinned to each other with triumph. So far the assault had been successful. That is, until an earsplitting buzzing sound rippled through the air from behind them; to Brazk it sounded like high-pitched thunder mixed with the whirring gears of Thunderbluff's elevators. Muln let out a blood-curling wail as mists of scarlet spewed from his body like the shimmering clouds at the base of a waterfall. The chainsaw of shredder continued to tear through his flesh like the titanic blade Gorshalach splitting a planet with a single, golden swing. Brazk screamed as his mentor fell to pieces, several shredders now working on his body. Brazk did what little he could do—flee.

He ran from the battlefield, not stopping until he reached the border from Stonetalon to the Barrens. He rested there the night, though he got little sleep, and returned to Mulgore within the next few days. He entered his home, outside of the village, only to find the headless bodies of his mother and younger brother, a large spear lying bloodied in their midst. By this point his shock became too great to even wail, and he collapsed in the pool of their mixed blood. He laid there for the night, shuddering and sobbing with a bastardization of hatred and fear. That spear, he knew it only as his father's.

He awoke the next morning, still traumatized, and by this point the shock had faded enough for him to weep over the corpses. He felt like the sorrow was his own skin, a writhing mass of desolation and mourning that only death would deliver from. He gripped the spear with hands, standing and finding something to tie it to his back. He refused to believe that his father would do this; he wanted answers. He needed answers. He began to dig two graves, and as he did he felt determination bubble over his despair. If Crescenthorn truly was responsible, then Brazk vowed that in the name of his mother and brother, he would bring them vengeance.