Zila

Information

Player: ChampionMouse

Character Full Name: Zila Kinslayer

Character In-Game Name: Zila

Nickname(s)/Titles: “The Red Dog”

Association(s): The Horde

Race: Orc

Class: Warrior

Age: 35

Sex: Female

Hair: Black, pulled back in a very tightly woven braid. The braid is held together at various intervals with decorative gold bands.

Eyes: Red

Weight: 203 lbs.

Height: 6'3"

Skills and Abilities: Zila has dedicated her life to working on melee combat. More specifically she favors using a single blade. It is because of this primary choice of weapon that she has mostly neglected learning other styles. She doesn't fight in a particularly clean manner and is prone to using effective yet cheap tricks in combat such as throwing dirt in an opponent's eye to catch them off guard.

Appearance

Zila always wears the scalp of a red worg over her face. The thing is very dusty, tattered, and matted with dried blood from past battles and seems almost as much a part of her as her own skin. Red leathers and hides are her normal choice when it comes to the style of clothing. However, Zila has been known to scavenge particularly effective or nice looking things off of the dead. She has no qualms about re-using what the dead will never touch again.

She's usually not very clean because of this scavenger hobby. She wanders too, so her boots are almost always covered in a thick layer of mud. Her training and violent nature also lead her to the frequent use of linen bandages which she ties about her arms for support. They might be bloody and gross for a while before she bothers to change them again.

At her side she always keeps a single short sword for use as her primary weapon. While she may grab other things here and there, it is not likely that she will use them. The sword is curved towards the end in the style of something that almost resembles a cutlass, but the tip is more jagged and cruel looking.

Other: The other possession that is of importance to Zila are her pauldrons. She often carries around a simple, but old looking pair of Grunt's pauldrons that belonged to her Father.

Personality

Filled with anger and superstition, Zila tends not to get along with many others. She counts her friends on one hand currently, and her sword takes up the number one slot. She is rather prideful and does not take defeat well. When she loses, she will not continue an argument, but she will certainly not accept help or pity. It shames her deeply to rely on other people because she views it as weakness.

Zila is an Orc Supremacist through and through, sincerely believing that she is of the strongest race. She will deal with others, though she is not usually polite unless an individual has raised her curiosity or proven themselves to be strong. It typically helps soften her up if someone has at least a little something in common with her.

Zila is wary about dealing with Shaman and others that dabble in business with the Spirits. She is worried that they will know too much about her business and it bothers her. She likes keeping most of her personal information to herself and emotional conversations, or talks about the mind and other deep things, rather agitate her and make her nervous.

History

Zila was born thirty-five years ago beyond the Dark Portal. Her mother died during childbirth so it was left to her Father and Clan to raise her properly as best they could. Things were very much so chaotic during her early years of life. With Draenor collapsing, the Clan was in a rush to move through the Dark Portal and into Azeroth.

The wilderness became Zila's home as the Warsong Orcs began carving their path through this new world. Things were dangerous out in the forests, but Zila rather enjoyed the freedom of being able to explore and ride as soon as she was able. She was quite smitten with her first Worg, as it was one of her best friends. “Heartfang” she had named it, and rode it as often as she possibly could. Despite the fact that her people suffered from lethargy and other things, Zila always felt better when she was with the Worg. Her Father often praised her skill with the beast, telling her that she would grow into a very fine Raider when she was older.

By the time Zila had reached adulthood she had fulfilled her Father's wish and taken up the path that he had laid out before her. Being stationed in Ashenvale was thrilling, but also dangerous. Battle against the indigenous Night Elves made casual rides into the forest a living nightmare and Zila was no longer riding for fun, but for Elvish Blood.

Like many of her Clan, Zila drank of Mannaroth's Blood when the chance became available and joined in the battle against the Demi-god Cenarius. For the first time in her life, Zila felt unstoppable and drunk with bloodlust and power. It was on the way back from this battle, her Father and Heartfang at her side, that things began to go downhill for her. The small group was taken by surprise, and her Father was wounded by an arrow through his gut. Zila practically dragged him, with the Wolf following, through the brush, trying to find a place to hide so he could rest. Her Father was in so much pain from the barbed arrow that he began to groan and make faint gurgling sounds that Zila feared would be overheard by their Elvish pursuers.

Seeing no other choice, and being blinded by blood rage and survival instincts, Zila slit her own Father's throat rather than be taken down by the roaming group of Elves out for vengeance. Even Heartfang must have felt betrayed by Zila's actions, for the great beast began to howl as if announcing the Elder's demise at the hands of his own kin. Zila, despite all her love for the animal, gutted him as quickly as possible with her sword, much to the beast's surprise, and kept moving to find her way back to the rest of the Clan.

It wasn't until after Grom had felled Mannaroth that Zila began to feel a heavy sense of guilt for what she had done. She tried speaking to one of the Clan's Shaman about her act of brutality, and from there the rumors began to circulate; earning her the surname “Kinslayer.” She felt awkward and shunned. Even though no one ever openly accused her of committing any atrocity, she perceived hatred in their eyes and gestures and imagined every so often that they were whispering about her as she passed by. Haunted by the memories of howls and dying gurgles, she returned to the Shaman and asked if there was anything she could do to make this right so that her life would return to normal.

“The Spirits have no hand in aiding you, child,” the Shaman told her. “It is you that must forgive yourself. Tell me, what is the price of a life?”

But Zila had no answer. She did not want riddles or more questions. She wanted absolute truth and comfort. When that did not come, she took her sword and moved out on her own. For the next several years, Zila wandered from battle to battle trying to find redemption in spilling the blood of the Horde's enemies. Perhaps if she took enough of it, she could find some sense of comfort. But no comfort ever came. She continually showed up as a mercenary, willing to work for the Horde. She always wore a red worg mask over her face in remembrance of Heartfang and the blood she had spilled in Ashenvale, and when she refused to give her compatriots the name she was so ashamed of they took to calling her “Red Dog.” The name stuck, and Zila even started using it herself.

Even after the great victory in Northrend, the land of snow and ice, where a terrible enemy had been defeated; Zila still felt no peace. She is still wandering, looking for answers, and fighting off the remnants of rage and hate that poison her blood to this day.