|Occupation|| Leader of The Beastmaw Warband |
|Trades:|| Fishing |
|Spoken Languages|| Orcish |
Physical Description Edit
Torakk bears the common features of an orc warrior - bright green skin, massive and brutish looking body. His eyes are easy to notice as they contrast with all the other, wilder parts of his body, and clearly speak of his young age - deep and blue, uncommon for the orcs of older generations. His hair is long and untamed, with the shade of violet, usually kept tied in a topknot. Several old scars mark his face on his cheeks and below his right eye. His chin is dark, covered by a short black beard.
Due to his ways in Beast Mastery, Torakk has acquired some very feral features. His nails have grown longer and claw-like and his tusks are larger than those of most orcs. The look in his eyes has become one of a predator, often narrowed as if constantly observing his surroundings. His nose wrinkles in a wolf's manner whenever he sniffs the air around him. He walks with the agility of a lynx. Slight growling can be noted in his intonation as he speaks.
Torakk's usuall attire consists of leather armour, one or two battle axes and a longbow, strapped to his back over his long leather cloak as well as a harpy-hide quiver. He also tends to wear a beast mask covered with red markings of war. His clan colours stand proudly upon his chest, ornamented with various medals and marks of honour, bearing the signs of different chieftains and war leaders, such as Hellscream, Thrall, Cairne Bloodhoof. His own signs are carved on several draconic scales of various colours and different beast fangs, all hanging from his necklace.
Notable skills and abilities Edit
- Torakk is skilled dragonscale leatherworker.
- Beast taming
- Fishing - Master angler; Has won the weekly Booty Bay fishing contest.
- Military tactician and strategist
The only person who most likely knows of Torakk's parents is the Dragonmaw warrior Orgathak, who took care of the child. He later grew up in a human internment camp with his younger sister Tannaka. In his search to discover his roots, Torakk has found out that he is a Blackrock by birth, and that his father was once a warrior of that clan. Still, many more questions remain unanswered and he continues to seek the answers.
My name is Torakk of the line Bloodrain, Blackrock by birth. I have never seen Draenor as it used to be before its destruction, nor have I ever had the chance to take the traditional orcish rite of adulthood. My father was a warrior, and my mother a hunter - both serving under the flag of the Blackrock clan. I remember little of them.It was in Azeroth that I was born, as was my sister Tannaka, and it was by luck that we avoided the warlocks that sought to increase the size of the Horde's armies by forcefully growing orc children into soldiers. My sister and I were taken away at a young age by a Dragonmaw drake-rider by the name of Orgathak Cloudbreaker soon after my parents fell to the human swords and mauls. I am uncertain about his relation with them, but I am certain it was one bound with honour. Orgathak brought us up and taught us many things; but most of all I would always remember his concept of war and mercy...
We were still young when Grim Batol fell to the Alliance. It was in that mighty fortress that Orgathak's clan was based, its great halls housing dozens of large red dragons - all trained for war. I was but a whelp so I was never allowed to examine these beasts closely. I do not know if the clan had accepted our presence. There weren't many other young orcs. In fact, I remember none. We were treated with indifference, but I understood then we were insignificant next to the priorities war had given. I hadn't seen a battle with my own eyes, either. When the dwarves attacked Grim Batol, my sister and I were hidden in a hut. All we could hear was the clashing of metal and screams of war and pain.
Orgathak left us in a hut on that day, but he never came back to us. The humans came instead. We were taken away, treated in the manner we treat pigs. The travel was long untill we reached a vast grassland. It was the humans' land and I would always remember it. I will always remember the building we were taken in, too. It was like a fortress, but much smaller in size. The walls were made of wood and the towers were only two, both waving the strange blue flags above them. I could not count then, but my memory now recalls no more than twenty humans stationed within.
We were thrown into a place that now makes me think of the part of a pig farm where the pigs sleep. There were other orcs, too. Old ones, mostly, none that I could recognize as Dragonmaw. They all looked tired, bored, some were lying in the filth unmoving. I never understood the lethargy untill I had spent many seasons there.
My life in that internment camp, as I had heard the humans call the small fortress, was more colourful than that of those orcs who suffered from the lethargy. Yes, I had learnt to understand the human tongue over the years. Orgathak himself thought I would be more useful to the Horde if I knew the language of our enemies, so the roots of my knowledge in Common - as they call this world's universal tongue - derived from the old Dragonmaw orc. I listened to the humans while the other orcs lay in the dirt. I attempted to speak with them on several occasions. I found quickly how foolish it was of me to do so. As the sun and moons came and went, I was mocked and sometimes taken out of the guarded area so I could fight the humans for their entertainment. I always had one leg chained to a pillar. Or my both hands tied to one another. There were other disgraceful events that I will never forget. Sometimes instead of me the humans would choose to take my sister outside in the courtyard and fight her. I was always filled with rage whenever I watched it happen. She was much smaller and weaker than any orc in the prison-camp, including myself. Trying to defend her, I would often misdirect the humans' attention on me and then they would beat me instead untill I could no longer stand. I never won a fight against the humans, but it was enough for me to give birth to an undying hatred to their miserable existence.
I had tried to speak with the older orcs, too. Some never spoke back to me during our entire stay in that wretched place. Others shared tales with me... I remember well the late nights when Tannaka and I would listen to the stories from some orcs about the days before the defeat at Grim Batol. That way we learnt about Draenor, we learnt that magic existed, and we learnt that our people were not always the defeated bunch of cads with the pride of worms, but were once noble souls with ancient traditions, and magic unlike that of the humans. The old orcs called the orcish magi shamans, and spoke of them with what I now think about as shame. There were other tales: we heard about glorious battles won at impossible circumstances and great leaders of the orcs whose names were legendary. We heard about the mighty wolves the orc clans bred and trained for war and many other things that, back then, always left me awe-struck for days. Naturally, there were tales that saddened me. These tales were of defeat, loss of personal honour, and loss of spirit, from which all orcs around me suffered. I was saddened most by the proud stories of bloodlines and ancestry, knowing that I would never learn about my ancestors.
The most memorable day of my imprisonment was the day when we were freed. We learnt from the humans that some other camps had been attacked. It was many winters since my first arrival there. The humans would often talk openly, caring little that we orcs could hear them. Or perhaps they didn't believe we could understand them - their arrogance had never ceased to get on my nerves and had it not been for the fact I was caged and lacked the support of the other orcs, I would gladly have torn the arms and heads of every single pinkskin in the camp. But I digress. The rumours we overheard were that free orcs existed, and they were destroying internment camps to free other orcs. I was filled with hope and excitement, anticipating the arrival of the same liberating army to our prison. Not a week after, a thunderous crash awoke me in the dead of the night. The far side of the camp was burning, and, too dazed to think soberly upon being awakened, I assumed that it was merely another fire. Such accident had occured before when a human had accidentally set the stables on fire. But this time the cries were different.
The wooden walls shattered one by one and I could see under the moonlight the horde of orcs advancing through the breached gates. We were quickly freed, given weapons, and for the first time in my existence I had the chance to spill the blood of my enemy. Human blood. I felt drunk with rage and I gladly joined my liberators in finishing off the pinkskin plague that had given me pain over the years. And that felt good.
When we had left the camp I quickly learnt the name of our liberators. Orgrim Doomhammer I knew about, from the tales the older orcs in the prison-camp had shared with me. I also knew the name Grom Hellscream, whose Warsong Clan was one of the leading forces in the assault that razed the human buildings to the ground. The third leader among them I did not know until then. He was about the same age as I, and was labeled as a slave. I did not understand it then, but the name he had chosen to bear - Thrall - was an ironic testament against his own past. He was one mocked by humans, just like my sister and I. We were impressed by the fact one would escape them and rally the few free orcs against them. Our respect for him grew quickly.
I fought along side the Warsong clan in the next couple of attacks against the humans. All were successful. I learnt a lot from the other warriors, and they were open enough to teach me. Having grown used to the humans' constant attitude and disrespect, the way the Warsong orcs treated me led me to respect every single one of them. By the time Durnholde, the Alliance major fortress in the land fell, I was accepted by the Warsong clan and I made my decision to stay with them. Tannaka, however, having made friends with Thrall's Frostwolf Clan, chose to be with them. She intended to study our ancient heritage and become a shaman like Thrall himself, whom she admired so much both as a leader and a shaman.
When the Horde took the human ships and set sail into the sea, I was oblivious as to where we were going. I had a mentor by then - a strong Warsong berserker by the name of Krol'gash. He was the strongest warrior I had ever met. When I think back now, I can easily compare him to a blademaster, and I know them to be the most skillful of all orcish fighters. He taught me how to hold and use every single weapon we had back then. Having joined the Warchief's men at the time and not Hellscream's, Krol'gash fell in a battle against the Alliance atop Stonetalon Peak, in Thrall's quest to seek out some kind of a prophet in the mountains. I was not there to fight at his side one last time, but I was told that his final battle against that human knight was glorious. Walk with the ancestors, brother, may the songs of your glory never fall silent!
I was there when Grom Hellscream discovered that well. I remembered well the teachings of Thrall and the orc elders; I was probably the only one who had never before tasted the powers the demons offered, so I resisted the temptation easily. My mind was clear and my thoughts sober. I did what I thought wise at the time and deserted while no one was looking. As my brothers corrupted themselves by drinking the demon's blood and defiling the noble path we were supposed to have taken, I traveled all the way to Stonetalon Peak where Thrall had his army stationed outside the peak itself. I reported to the captains and remained with the Warchief's forces untill the end of the war.
As for the war's end, I saw it firsthand, as did thousands of others. I was there at Hyjal, killed many undead and demon soldiers, and joined the Horde's cry of victory. Fighting together with humans was not a fact that I cherished, but paying little attention to them helped me focus on butchering the stronger enemy present. In the following months, when we orcs settled in the land that we named Durotar, I tried to seek out my former comrades from the Warsong clan. I re-joined what had left of them, but I was not accepted as easily as I was the first time. I could only guess how they felt after making that mistake in the woods of Ashenvale. I did not share their mistake; I did not share a bond with them any longer.
With the founding of Orgrimmar, I set out to explore our new land. I was present at the battle that Rexxar led against Theramore. I was inspired by the half-bood, I admired the way he controlled beasts. It seemed both as a power and a blessing. In my travels that followed, I visited many orcs, trolls, and tauren that I had found out to know the way of the beast. I was taught something by each, and as the months passed I improved more and more in the path I had chosen to walk. The first beast I tamed was a mighty raptor I encountered while wandering the barren plains north-west of Dustwallow Marsh. I was the target of the same raptor's hunting pack. I slew some of the beasts as I fought for my life, hardly believing that I would live to see the next moon. When I somehow gained the upper hand and the remaining reptiles scattered in fear, only the biggest one of them remained. For the first time did I hear the Spirit of the Wilds whisper to me. I did not understand it then, it took me a long time afterwards to begin to comprehend its words. But the raptor that now gazed at me and would no longer attack me became my companion; the first of many. He followed me on his own, understood what I wanted of him and I in turn learnt how to understand him. I named him Splinter - his talons reminded me of a sharpened piece of wood.
I would have accepted Raptorslayer to be my name, for that was my very first and most significant achievement as I followed the path of the beast, and I had never had the chance to take an orcish rite of adulthood. But I had already sworn long before that Bloodrain is what I would call myself untill I discovered my true heritage one day; if my father and mother were a disgrace and worshippers of the same demons that enslaved our race then I would abandon the name of those cowards and accept a new one.
I was a mercenary in the following years. I swore an oath to my Warchief that I would serve him once again should the Horde march to war. But untill such a call is sounded, I would explore the world on my own. So I wandered both continents and lent my axes to whoever needed them, hoping that as I earn my gold, experience would be my teacher, and instincts - my guide. I witnessed many fights, experienced the warmth of a female as I traveled with the assassin Maenna Shadowgrin for a time, and won myself many trophies. I made many allies but also many foes. My travels would take me to Outland when I heard the Dark Portal had reopened. I didn't approve of the new name they had given to Draenor, for much of its former magnificence still lingered in the otherwise poisoned land.
As I traveled, I never ceased to search for knowledge regarding my parents. I learnt from someone in Orgrimmar that Orgathak, the old orc from the Dragonmaw Clan that brought me up, still lived and was with the New Horde, not with the Dragonmaw renegades that still lingered in the east, unwilling to accept the rule of our new Warchief. I also learnt that he was a warlock, and I believed in that easily, for whenever I tracked him down, he disappeared as though he was never there. It took me entire years until I finally found him, but even then my questions were not fully answered. Even today, my sister and I keep striving to find out who our parents were.
When I returned from Draenor, I joined a clan of orcs sworn to follow the old ways, the ways of shamanism. They called it The Earthfury Clan. Their chieftain, the wise shaman Hrisskar Doomforge, saw strength in me and entrusted me with leading his warriors by elevating me to the station of a Clan General. The old shaman died proudly in battle against the dwarves of the Alliance a few months after I had joined the clan's ranks. I was honoured to have been named Chieftain not long before his death. The clan survived that harsh battle, and continued to flourish in the coming seasons. My loss to Doomforge's son in a duel, in which he demanded that the clan leadership was his blood right, was crucial to the clan's downfall. When the Earthfury crumbled, I returned to Orgrimmar and stood up for the promise I had made to my Warchief a few years back. I gathered some of the former Earthfury hunters and formed a new warband under the banner of the Horde. I named it the Beastmaw, and swore allegiance to Thrall; The Beastmaw Clan would be his to command! I managed to retain my rank of General, but that is a different story, one which I cannot tell here. Under the command of my Warchief, my warband emerged victorious in many great battles!
Whoever you are, if you now hold these papers and understand the orcish runes they are written with, see to it that my legacy does not remain forgotten. Spread the word that Torakk lived and died for the Horde, that he has no regrets for his actions, and his name will always remain loyal to the common goal of his people. FOR THE HORDE!
Pets and Companions Edit
Current Companions Edit
- A mighty tan lynx called Bason - Torakk found the strong animal in one of his travels. Having tracked down the beast, he intentionally entered its domain, seeking challenge in taming its untameable spirit. Although he failed and nearly perished to its claws, the respect between the two grew after their confrontation was had. The lynx willingly subdued himself to the orc and became his companion.
- Zixx - A growing black wolf Torakk found as a pup. The den mother and the rest of the pack had been hunted down and killed, yet this one had somehow survived. Sick and starving, Torakk took the wolf with him, tamed and raised him, giving him the name Zixx. Zixx has a playful spirit and always seeks others' attention, yet he is fierce in combat and would even kill if his master demands it.
- Bemarr - A mighty rhino-beast hailing from the frozen wastes of Borean Tundra. Torakk located and tamed it after having set foot on Northrend soil for the first time. Although Bemarr may give the impression of being Torakk's pack-beast or mount, he has been trained well ever since; his fury in combat is primal and his abilities vary from impaling the enemy on his horns to stamping them down in a most brutal manner.
Lost & Abandoned ones Edit
- Splinter - A Barrens raptor Torakk tamed in the months after Orgrimmar was founded - one of his very first accomplishments as a Beastmaster. It followed him as his companion during his years as a mercenary. Torakk released Splinter back in the wilds shortly after the Dark Portal was reopened.
- Silverfang - A frost wolf that Torakk managed to tame on his first visit to the Frostwolf Clan's village in Alterac. Silverfang is the second beast he would call a companion after Splinter. The wolf is large and old, with impressive snow-white mane and large vicious fangs. It fought beside him during his travels in the east and his first journey to Outland. Silverfang was also beside him when he joined The Earthfury Clan. Months later, Torakk made a trip to Alterac and allowed the frostwolf to return to its pack, for it was growing old and weak. Torakk would later call on him when the Earthfury laid siege to Dun Garok, and secure its aid during the battle.
- Ripper - An owl Torakk sought favour from in his first journey to Nagrand during the Burning Crusade. The bird aided Torakk in his tasks in Outland for a period of time and remained there when its master decided to return to Kalimdor. Torakk last saw it taking off into the night sky of Nagrand; its fate remains unknown.
Significant Belongings Edit
- Necklace made of different bones and dragon scales. In his years as a traveler, Torakk slew many a mighty creature and took a trophy from each. Each one bears a letter precisely carved on its surface - orcish runes symbolising Torakk's personal signature - a traidition he picked up from his stay with the Warsong Clan. The items attached to the necklace are various: a serpentine skull hangs next to a massive raptor talon located in the middle of the cord; dragon scales can be seen on each side, some small and whole, others merely chunks of what appears to have been a large lizardy scale. Most of them are coloured in black, but there are a few blue and green ones as well.
Torakk’s collection is not nearly done – he keeps adding new trophies to his necklace as a show of strength. Each item attached to it has previously belonged to a foe that he saw challenge in. The raptor talon is a memory from his first trial as a Beastmaster in which he earned the name “Raptorslayer”.
- Beast Mask made out of the skin of a bear. It is padded with a second layer of leather underneath to keep his head warm as well as protected. It is cut in a hardly visible line underneath the fur on its back, leaving it open for the wearer's hair. The front is painted in red, markings of war surround what were once the beast's eyes and muzzle.
The mask he currently wears is the second one he had to craft for himself. The first he lost upon getting captured by Celegil Moonwatcher’s sentinels. It was recovered and is currently worn by Torakk’s sister Tannaka. After his brief captivity to The Frayfeathers, Torakk hunted down a bear in the forest of Ashenvale. He skinned it and used its hide to make an exact copy of his original mask.
- Harpy-hide quiver in which Torakk keeps his arrows. It is divided in two parts, one bigger and used for normal arrows which Torakk would use in any battle or hunt. The second part is smaller and it contains specially-wrought arrows that are put in use if the circumstances demand it. Some are coated with different types of poison, others bear strange runes all over them. He says little of how he obtained the magic arrows, but they are obviously not orcish in origin. The quiver is coloured in brown and has the insignia of the Horde carefully drawn on it.
Torakk used to own a Frostwolf-made harpy-hide quiver for some time in the past. He lost it in his travels, but he had learned the way in which the quiver was made. Through trial and error, he eventually succeeded in creating a quiver by himself that looks like the Frostwolf one.
- Wooden battle horn which he tends to keep chained to his belt whenever he wears armour for battles or hunting. The horn is an impressive piece of woodcraft: the insignia of the Horde is pictured on either side; a number of metal spikes and a patch of animal fur ornament the wider end of the item, which is also shaped in order to resemble a horned bestial maw.
The so-called "Horn of Howling" was gifted to Torakk by Vrakk Bonefist so he could rally his warriors with its specific animalistic sound. The purpose of its unique roar is also to frighten and demoralise the Horde's enemies in battle. While the horn was to be carried and sounded by the clan's chief only, it belongs to all of the Beastmaw, representing their strength and close bond with the wilds.
Personal Notes Edit
-Torakk has no love for the races of the Alliance, no matter whether they are affiliated with it or not; most of all he hates gnomes, for reasons only known to him.
-He is a very skilled archer and he often prefers the bow instead of the axe in his fights.
-Torakk pretty much likes fishing and he's quite good at it.
"Love is for the weak minded..."
"The wise warrior always accepts all allies!"
"WE are the deadly predators who roam this jungle!"
"Every new warrior must know fear in order to beat it."
Current Status Edit
Serving the new Warchief.
Torakk's character is based on the typical orc grunts seen in Warcraft III and "Day of the Dragon" and some ideas were taken from great heroes of the Horde, such as Rexxar (http://www.wowwiki.com/Rexxar) and Broxxigar from the "War of the Ancients" trilogy (http://www.wowwiki.com/Brox).
His appearance was greatly inspired by Grom Hellscream (http://www.wowwiki.com/Grom_Hellscream), mainly his topknot, dark chin (which is just bearded, not tatoo'd like Grom's), and the necklace with his own signs carved on it.
The way he thinks and acts is based on the Mandalorians from the Star Wars Lore (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandalorian). His ambition to rise in power in the Horde may have been partly inspired by the Fullmetal Alchemist character Roy Mustang (http://fma.wikia.com/wiki/Roy).