Bloodtotem Chief

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Bloodtotem Chief last won the day on June 2

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About Bloodtotem Chief

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    Disney Sjov Crusader
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  1. Rumors begin to spread from the Warsong scouts of Splintertree Post, and the Kaldorei Sentinels patrolling the Ashenvale forests, telling grim stories of the once quiet and isolated encampments of Satyrnaar and Xavian. They have become a seething united heart of the Satyrs, and the loud guttural braying from the corrupted goatmen boom from beyond the makeshift walls of twisted treelogs. The scouts and sentinels all report, they have seen large groups of Satyrs with wide variations of fur and size arrive to the gates of the capital, who are all let through the gates with no trouble at all. The thick smoke from pyres rise from within the capital, and the music of wardrums boom through the forest.
  2. Not approved... Consult the "How to make a character sheet" guide, pretty please.
  3. Constitution - 3 Senses - 0 Strength - 6 Dexterity - 0 Wisdom - 0 Willpower - 0 Ingenuity - 0 Haste - 0 Fortune - 0 Raciel - Orc Grunt +2 Constitution. Total HP - 19
  4. Although, the city was full of guttural cries, screams and roars from the festival beneath the pale moon, there were very little of it making itself heard inside the makeshift throne room of the prince. Instead, the crackling sparks of fires and the moaning Kaldorei was prominent. It was far from a pleasurable moan, and in truth something more like a painful weeping full of blood and saliva. Yet, the prince was delighted beyond explanation at the symphony played by his new favourite captive. Such music could never be found anywhere else in the world. Such wonderful strokes of tunes to the rhythm of his ritualistic fires. It was ancient art in a truly revealed manner, and it was all for him. However, his captive was not able to keep his magnificent eyes upon her, for one of his subjects approached. Whenever one of his lesser subjects would approach, they would lower themselves to an almost crawl, as they entered the throne room with stuttering humble voices and shaking clawed hands. The prince loved their frightened voices, but never revealed it, for what was he if not superior to all others before him? And, no royalty needed lower themselves to please the filth and muck of bastard children. The young subject placed its head against the damp grass beneath them, for he dared not look upon his prince, in fear of what horrible consequence might follow for such reckless actions. “My prince! Let me first say how honoured I am to be in your presence yet again, and I am humbled by your magnificence and magnitude!” The messenger’s voice was high pitched and hoarse like most of kin, and his curved horns had reached an impressive length for his age. The prince grunted quietly in acknowledgement of his subject, but not his words. “I come bearing word of the lands beyond your borders. Word that weighs heavily upon my lesser mind. I have served you at your pleasure, and now seek to speak freely in your presence. The news regards the warlord in the southern lands, and the lord of the temple in the east!” Of all nights the messenger could have returned, he had chosen the night of the festival. A night which was supposed to be a feast of flesh, blood and new powers granted by the eyes. It was a night for celebration and pleasure, not for thoughts of nuisances and mortals stabbing at his greatness like busy mosquitoes. However, a prince’s duty to his people was never over, and he grunted once more in a deep rumbling voice. The messenger continued. “The warlord in the south is dead. Slaughtered by the mortals from beyond the high white walls, but he was able to carry out the assignments given to him by the masters.” The prince smiled, but like everything else in his city it was far from anything resembling the ordinary gestures. His lips curled up in a slow wet motion, showing all of his large yellow fangs, while saliva dripped from his lower lip, and trickled down into his thick beard. It was a smile of arrogance as thick as oil. “But news from the east are troublesome, my prince. The lord in the temple has only supplied us with a single Sentinel for your personal harem, while our scouts report he let another go, and have met with mortals from the sea. They gave him a ship and weapons. The one he let go had eyes like yours. An ideal subject for breeding strong warriors, my prince.” The prince’s hooves clacked loudly, as he rose from his throne of bronze, bone and stone. He smacked his subject across the face, drawing blood as his corrupted claws ripped his flesh open. The subject wailed loudly, and was swiftly removed from the prince’s presence by large Legashi warriors. He didn’t harm his subject, because he was infuriated of the situation in the east, but because the inferior creature had assumed, if the news would be troublesome for him. Of course, the news was troublesome, but the lesser subjects in his princedom had to remember their place, and he would save his anger for the mortals. He regarded his living music box for a moment with his slit eyes burning bright with the Fel. She was still laying in the dirt inside her cage, made specifically from the bones and hair of her own kinsmen, so she might realize how highly the prince thought of her. She was desperately clambering both her hands against her stomach, where he had cut her. It was far from a lethal wound, for the prince had exquisite experience and talent with his blade, and knew exactly where and how deep he could slice without killing her. Besides, she would bear him sons when he grew bored of her, and a dead concubine bears no sons. He sat down on his throne again. For a moment he almost lost all thought of where he was, and began laughing quietly in the back of his throat. Every part of his body was shivering with ecstasy and delight, for the time had come for his great war to begin. In that second, he had a brilliant thought. I should invite my enemies to gaze upon my magnificence...
  5. Constitution - 4 Senses - 1 Strength - 4 Dexterity - 0 Wisdom - 0 Willpower - 0 Ingenuity - 0 Haste - 0 Fortune - 0 Racial - Human soldier +1 Consitution, +1 Strength. Total HP - 22
  6. Valon recieces a +1 willpower from the RAID THE RAIDERS event.
  7. Kirion recieves a +1 Wisdom from the RAID THE RAIDERS event.
  8. Anseln recieves a +1 wisdom from the RAID THE RAIDERS event.
  9. Auvray gets a +1 Willpower from the RAID THE RAIDERS event.
  10. Constitution - 1 Senses - 2 Strength - 0 Dexterity - 4 Wisdom - 0 Willpower - 0 Ingenuity - 0 Haste - 2 Fortune - 0 Racial - Draenei Rangari +2 Dexterity. Total HP - 13
  11. RAID THE RAIDERS! While Theramore tends to its wounded, buries their dead, and prepares their forces for the coming war, after the Feltotem raid on the city last night. It quickly becomes clear, the ONLY reason Rodan invited the leaders of Theramore to dine with him, was to leave the city without commanding authority during his daughter- and son's raid. A raid which failed, and cost the Feltotem warlord more raiders than he could spare. However, a fire rises in the north. Against the barren mountains of pale rock and dust, Blackheart village now spurs to action unlike anything seen before. While the few surviving raiders return to their hearth from their giant failure, they are greeted with bitter smiles and cold gazes from people once thought to be their families. Yet, there are no families left in the north. Only the Fel remains. The tortured mutilated corpses of defiant Grimtotems, the failed raiders and prisoners from both the Alliance and the Horde, are hung over the wooden walls of the village. The very logs used for the walls and the surrounding nature have been affected too. Corruption has seeped deep into them, and the entire place now seems alive with seething foul green taint. The village has become a deathtrap to all but the Feltotem and their demon allies. Smoke rises from beyond the walls, and the wailing cries of the few Grimtotems who tried to resist, echo through the night as they are used to fuel the rituals of the twisted Feltotem elders and shamans. The north is preparing for war, and their warlord has never been more ready. Nor, felt more alive. While he has lost the majority of his raiders in the long war against Theramore, he knows the forces of the Light will come for him, and he will welcome them with open arms. Either to die in a pool of his own blood, or to rip every single enemy apart with his own claws and fangs. Rodan the Blackhearted, his many children and the demons supporting them... are waiting for you. - Who is this event for? The forces of Theramore and their allies. - When? Friday the 9th of June - 19:00 Servertime. - Will there be spanking hot loot? Yes. - What's the risk? Chance of death is high. Not maiming, losing a limb or getting hurt... Death. - Who is going to ST this? Bloodtotem Chief, Solomons, (maybe) Sevencix. Just like the Theramore siege.
  12. Rejoice Theramore, for the peace... is... OVER. A new rumor of blood and gore, although old, begins to spread through Theramore like a plague. Mostly among young men and women who used coin in the tailoring business to look fancy, but the corpse of Katherine Dawnblade the Artisan Tailor of Theramore was found a few days ago, outside the walls of Theramore. Although, the corpse had its skull caved in like a children's toy depleted of battery, then the woman has been identified on her dress, which she often wore as it was her signature work.
  13. Finally some refreshing news and stories hit Theramore again, as Marines once held prisoners by the Feltotem in the north, have returned to embrace their families once more. Five prisoners, although in sorry states, returned after a successful mission in the north was carried out. Some people say it was the Lieutenant Brayden who went on a solo mission into the village, and through his strength, prowess, cunning and intelligence, he managed to outsmart the foul Rodan the Blackhearted, and left with five of his people. However, some say that is just flattered noble ladies' speech who have never seen nor felt the thick atmosphere of battle. Other stories tell that Brayden was accompanied by the Lord Regent himself, but many dismiss that as utter nonsense. Darker stories say that Brayden Browne may have cut a deal with the Feltotem, and that the release of the prisoners is actually just another piece in the Legion's puzzle. But, concerned citizens are calmed by Marines from the military, who say the release of the prisoners was indeed the result of cunning and strength. Rejoice Theramore.
  14. Not as much a rumor as it is a story, begin spreading from North Point Tower and southwards. The sentries there saw a group of Grimtotem charge out of the marshlands on the northern bank of the river. In the beginning the sentries thought they were under attack, but mere seconds later a team of fel corrupted beasts leading a pack of wild giant black wolves, emerged from the darkness of the marshlands as well. The Feltotem swiftly chased down many of the Grimtotem, and savagely slaughtered them in manners a crazed butcher would his meat. Two of the Grimtotem managed to get away, and disappeared into the thick bog of the marsh to the east. The Feltotem seemed far from satisfied at their trophies, but didn't continue their hunt, as they noticed they were spotted by the sentries of the tower. After a few rude handgestures, yelled insults, and a rifle shot to one of their faces as a reply, they pulled back to the north. Whatever is going on behind the walls of the newly renamed village, Blackheart Fortress, it would seem the remaining Grimtotem are now preyed upon as well.
  15. An old rumor resurfaces in the Dustwallow marshlands and within the walls of Theramore itself. During the night of the 25th in the days of May, a terrible creature has been spotted wandering the northern parts of the marshland. A creature seen before, but lost to the efforts of war. Word reaches south from North Watch Point. The rumor is much like one from a long time ago. It speaks of a giant creature, clad in a heavy dark green suit of armor which reeks with the scent of brimstone and decaying flesh. The lumbering giant has four horns sprouting from its head, and on its back it carries a giant weapon of green blazing power. Its very eyes, corrupted to the point of where they burn with a green taint, stares out at the world with a hunger impossible to satisfy. The creature was spotted several times in the north, then a few times in the central eastern region of the marshes.