Gerkash

Information

Player: Mimloopen

Character Full Name: Ger’kash Grimfist

Character In-Game Name: Ger’kash

Nickname(s):

Association(s): Himself

Race: Orc

Class: Warrior

Skills and Abilities: Decades of experience have toned Ger’kash’s fighting skills to a masterful level. He is proficient with any weapon that might ever have passed through Orcish hands but favours great axes. In battle Ger’kash is a killing machine with no thoughts beyond the present and barely enough presence of mind to differentiate friend from foe, consuming himself in bloodlust and fighting tirelessly through wounds that would cripple a normal warrior, only feeling the full brunt of the blows after a battle has ended and his rage has subsided.

Age: 61

Sex: Male

Hair: Grey ponytail

Eyes: Brown

Weight: 210kg

Height: 1.89 metres

Usual Garments/Armor: Never to be seen without some sort of weapon strapped to his back or hip, he is often found wearing a mix of leather and chainmail to protect himself, his armour relatively light except for the massive pauldrons he seems to take fancy to, whether to intimidate the enemy or crush them on his spikes.

Other: His body is riddled with scars, ranging from long faded cuts by sword or claw to barely healed burn or stab wounds.

Personality

He is an orc of few words, preferring to share them only if necessary or if his passion were to be ignited. Outside of battle the orc is patient and slow to rise to insults, although he himself makes sure to belittle any in his company that were not orcs, or that he deemed failures to his race. Ger’kash strongly believes that orcs are destined for a greatness that Thrall cannot promise, that even the most meager orc is able to rise against any challenge without the assistance of allies or technology. He also considers himself very honourable, though to him honour can only be proven by fighting against stacked odds; the more desperate the fight, the better. Ger’kash has very little interest in friends or partners but is happy to surround himself with battle brothers who can relish in carnage as he can.

In battle his calm demeanour evaporates almost immediately, giving way to a blind and momentous fury that not even the death of his foe can quench, and only time can restrain.

History

Born into the Blackrock clan the third child of five, Ger’kash and his kin were taught the value of honour and strength from the moment they could comprehend the terms. He often sparred and wrestled with his other siblings, all under the approving eye of his father. During his childhood he had little contact with the youth of other clans, preferring the company of his own friends. His youth was occupied by sparring, gathering and accompanying hunters. Rudimentary weapon smithing lessons were thrown in but Ger’kash showed no real passion or promise for the art and he quickly abandoned it.

As he came of age he was quick to join his kin and friends in the hunt, proud and boastful of every kill he made. It didn’t take long for the hunting of beasts to become a competition amidst them, and soon enough they no longer hunted as a group but alone, each determined to tackle the greatest prey. This competition of sorts only ended when his eldest kin was found dead with several ogre footprints nearby. Although he mourned the loss of his brother, Ger’kash continued to harbour a desire to prove himself. However, since his friends had given up lone hunting, he did the same.

When war was declared against the Draenei Ger’kash participated with zeal, eager to follow the will of the spirits but also to prove himself against a worthy opponent rather than a mere beast. Throughout the war he slew countless Draenei for the cost of countless wounds; more often than not he found himself restless while being treated for his injuries, but he was always quick to jump back into the action whenever a warrior was required, relishing the sight of blue blood.

As the Horde fell further into Kil’jaedan’s influence, the spirits abandoning them and warlocks taking their place, Ger’kash found that there was no one to take care of his wounds. Such was the pace of their relentless campaign that the dying and wounded were often left behind. Refusing to succumb to the limits of his body he bandaged his own wounds with leaves and whatever other material he could find, fighting the war to the very end and the taking of Shattrath. By the end of it he was a limping mess, but it is a testament to his martial prowess – and dumb luck- that he managed to survive at all.

In the months after the annihilation of the Draenei, as the world around them turned to ash, Ger’kash spent most of his time crippled and recovering from injuries that a shoddy bandage could not comfort. He supported his clan chieftain Blackhand, now chieftain of the Horde, and strove to make himself useful to his clan in any way he could. Although he recognized and respected the fel powers that had replaced shamanism he personally found them to be an unsuitable replacement for a strong axe hand and did his best to distance himself from the warlocks, believing them weak for relying on power greater then themselves.

By the time the Dark Portal was opened and the invasion was ready he had recovered from the majority of his wounds. Thus he joined his clan in battle after battle as they stormed Azeroth, cleaving strange new creatures and plundering odd lands. There is little to be said of his deeds during both the first and second wars; he fought and fought against hopeless odds, he fought and killed and survived against any manner of foe. Always present in the thick of the fighting, his martial prowess evolved with every conflict won, his bloodlust becoming so common to him that it was like a second skin, refining his battle skills and leaving him blind to pain. It escalated to the point that the mere sight of an enemy coming towards him would drive him into bloodlust, eager to charge as fast as he could and rip the foe limb from limb.

Alas, the Horde was defeated not once, but twice. With the betrayal of Blackhand between the wars Ger'kash was furious, but proud to be a Blackhand he continued to fight with them in the next war. Ger’kash and the band of warriors he fought with were at the midst of destruction to a force far greater than them, but where his allies surrendered he continued to cleave and hack, blind to anything but the death of all within axe range. It was only when he suffered such grevious wounds that his body was physically unable to continue did he halt, falling to the ground and bleeding profusely. Still, he survived; eager perhaps to torture and humiliate him, his wounds were bandaged and he was thrown into a camp with the rest of his warband.

Unlike most of his brethren Ger’kash did not spend very long in the camps, lethargy barely able to set in when he was free. Leading the remnants of the Blackrock and Black Tooth Grin clan, the fierce Rend and Maim assaulted the unexpecting humans guarding the camp and recruited the orcs to their own purposes. He eagerly joined the remnants of his clan rebuilding itself within Blackrock Spire in what would later become known as the Dark Horde.

He served as an orc of the weakened Blackrock clan for the years to come, fighting and gathering supplies wherever he could. Knowing that the Horde was now a shade of its former glory Ger’kash only fought all the harder when an enemy was engaged, determined to leave his own mark on the world. Surrounded as he was by practising warlocks, lethargy never set in for the aging warrior. Amidst their ranks he earned the name Grimfist.

Several years passed before he learned of the lethargy that gripped the rest of his kind. He was furious at them for being so weak to succumb to whatever was ailing them, while simultaneously starting to become disillusioned with those at Blackrock Spire, for Rend and Maim were now looking towards trolls and ogres for aid as well as orcs. Ger’kash firmly believed that the Horde would only be strong if it relied on no one but itself, so these new additions were unacceptable... over time he even began to grow intolerant of the warlocks, who did not rely on their own ability. He tried to control his growing resentment but in the end he could see only one path for him. The new Horde led by Rend and Maim was doomed to fail if it continued to rely on warlocks and lesser races, so Ger’kash escaped following a skirmish outside the fortress, killing his clansmen after the enemy before fleeing with only one direction; away.

Ger’kash lived and survived in the wilderness for over a decade, foraging and hunting to continue his pointless existence. At first he had been hard as lethargy set in, his movements and thoughts becoming sluggish without demonic energy to fuel him. Refusing to admit that all his deeds were merely a result of warlock empowerment Ger’kash fought it constantly, forcing himself into frays despite his muscles feeling as heavy as lead and his mind almost blank. Bit by bit his lethargy faded and it was several months before he had roused himself from the crippling withdrawal. Heartened by his own success, he knew there would be hope for the orcs still trapped in the camps; desperately he hoped that he might somehow bump into more like him, and that they might attempt to seize a camp as Rend and Maim did, but his hopes went unanswered.

Word of Thrall’s reuniting of the Horde reached his ear half a year after the last camp had been liberated. He eagerly set off to serve under the new warchief, hoping for a return to the slaughter of the lesser races, but what he found disgusted him. The new warchief was timid as a lamb, allying with brutish trolls and simple cows in a desperate bid to hold his own. There were even rumours that he was a human sympathizer! It didn’t take long for Ger’kash to realise that his kin had suffered a fate worse than death; they had became the useless sheep of a weak warchief. He set off on his own again, unable to find peace of mind. To this day Ger’kash wanders Azeroth in melancholy, grieving for his once proud race and continuing to throw himself at monstrous enemies, all the while hoping to find those that share his hopes; hope for a Horde that was strong, and relied on no one.