Shorok

  Hayo! Its Shorok Morien, Mist Walker again. With Real ID available if any one out there wants to talk to me on Wyrmrest Accord. Just message my account and I'll give you my E-mail. I understand that its a poor chance that any of you do. But still! Hope every one is enjoying there game!

    My Lords and Ladies, I must bid you all good bye. I've served, battled, horrified, disapointed, and made many both hatefull and loved here for more then four years. But I have left! I've taken my self to the Server named Wrymrest Accord. It has been a great honor knowing you all. You have all made me think better and worse of my self. But alas, no creature is perfect. I wish prosperity to all of you, and those that you share your life with.

 
If any of you find your self on the Accord feel free to look me up. I'll by my ole demonic self as I always am.

  With little to nothing to really say, sense I dont really have anything in common with any of you.

  TTFN!

       Hi! Long time no see. Or type rather... I think I need to start again. Something normal...ish. I love Shorok, I've played him for 4 years.. Though from Warlock to DeathKnight; Or rather Demon caster to Demon Warrior. I dont want to stop playing him nor will I... But! with the new druid skins. I've decided to make a normal. Level one, male druid. Fresh from Mulgore part of the Bloodhoof tribe.

   I am looking for a friend, or <insert witty name here?> Teacher, ally, what not. A fresh druid looking for some friends. Or rather if you know some one. This will be a test of my skills as it is. I've played Shorok for so long I'm not sure how else to act. So if you answer this call be mindfull... Theres a demon hidden in the cats fur....

I hope to hear from...some one...any one... Take care my fellows and writting giants of the Haven. Peace and best wishes to you!

  Shorok.......

         The clear moon and its surounding little lights in the dark ocean called the night sky shone brilliantly. Not a cloud in the sky, of course it was Northrend it was common not to have clouds. The bristling cold chilled even the most stalwart heros and adventures. But not for this one...Not for this warrior of Darkness and Soldier of light. For he was never cold nor hot. He just was. Standing in The Dragonshrine. Shorok Morien, Mist Walker. Keeper of the Horde stood as tall and massive as ever; as a demon warrior of his clan should. Clad in the armor earned on the field of battle for the Horde. A Giant mace strapped to his back. His tail twitched ever so often, though the rest of him sat perfectly still. Like a stone. His eyes percieved a confusion. Seeking an understanding. The demonic runes carved into his scaly hide glowed a deep red, as he twiched his head at his subject of his confusion.  

    Akoo! My new favorite word.. Akoo! I have no idea what it means but it brings a smile to my face. Met a very larg Yeti today when training some softskin elf in Hillsbrad. He called me Akoo and began to pet me. First instict was to ripp the creatures arm off. But I kept myself in check and let it pet me. The elf that was with me delved into the creatures mind and told me. That I reminded the Yeti of a pet snake it use to keep. Its not often I meet creatures that are bigger then me. Twice more that are fluffy and somewhat cute I must say. I'd say a Tauren. But that was a long time ago....

   Akoo! As my pack would say. It is for the win......

   Shorok rolled his shoulders, hearing the soft cracks of his joints under his scaled hide. Smiling at the fur of the Worgen he had killed in Black Rock Depths only a few hours ago. It would make a fine rug or blanket for the little ones in his Tribe. Tap..Tap... Shorok looks at his right leg and see's a wee little black skinned orc;female. Wide curious eyes looking up at him. Slithering out his long fork tongue he scoops his charge up eyeing her curiously. Though you would never tell past his flame tipped eyes.

  "Yes, My little Softskin. How may I help you tonight?" Coiling his tail back and forth across the earth surrounding his Keep in Silverpine Forest. It was starting to be come  a rock like substance. Much like the typ of earth you would find around the Dark Portal. This botherd him so. But that was for another day as the little child. Blushed a brighter shade of gray against her skin.

      --Shorok pressed his scaled and gauntlet hand into the cover of his flesh bound book. Not long ago his being had been made of Nether. But after a time he realised he yearned to have physical contact, he wanted it..He did not need it. The runes of warding across his journal lite up brightly with a red glow. Protecting the book from outside infulence. Opening the pages, Shorok dipped his quill into a ink jar..Though ink was not what it contained--

  Why? Why is the concept of what I am so hard to understand? I was not born a demon, I was not born a warrior of Darkness. I grew into it! Once a human so long ago, then a Forsaken. Simply by an accident! Did I become swallowed in my demonic armor. By simply casting a common spell. Trying to make it stronger I doomed my self to this life. I wallowed, despaired, Emotionally shut my self out from the world by what I had done....

     ((Written on a dried piece of flesh, pale pink in color with what appears to be red ink, written in orcish))

   To Dear Emissary Moriurya,

Journal,

I do love reading poetry, but there are few collections I can really find. Don't be jealous, I like reading you too, so I am going to put some poetry in and keep you at the top of my interest list. A jealous journal makes for a stressful entry. So here, tell me what you think.

         Shorok stood at the mail box outside the pavilion tent in the Argent tournament grounds. Ignoring the disgusted looks he got from the races of the world. His Fel green Proto-drake pawed at the icy ground as the fel-ichor from its mouth litterally boiled the ground to ash. Shorok smiled at him.. Not long ago the little thing had been a troublesome companion on his shoulder.. Now it was his steed through these frozen lands.

   Shorok turned the letters of hate mail to ash (I actually get these from players. Its freaking hilarious that I'm hated this much) A fel green flame erupting from his scaled hands. He hears the tapping foot of an elf behind him waiting for him to move... Shorok snapps his jaws at the little softskin huffing out black flame from his nostrils...

  "I'll move, when I'm ready to move. Elf! Be thankfull I dont ripp your legg of for being annoying"

She wrote in her journal, a pass-time she took to when she was a child, though it had been quite a while since her last entry to of her soul. But last night was different. She signed off her name as her eyes were closing to find rest after a long day. When she awoke there was a blanket on her and a small paragraph on the bottom of her latest journal entry.

Do you regret meeting every one in Silvermoon, Lady Moriurya? How are your Kodo ridding lessons coming? And are we ever going to go on the Expidition into Zul'farrak?

She was stunned at these words, surprised they were there in a journal of which was part of her. And she knew who it came from, this message that appeared overnight. She wrote back, no idea what would happen.

    The Furbolg sentry Torgon stood, his feet spread apart. A spear held in his firm and confident gripp. His shift was almost over, he wanted to show his clan that we was a valiant fighter from begining to end. Winning both respect and adimiration. The name Torgon will be the named of sons and daughters! He will be the next clan chief! He..... Sees a monster Coming towards him. Growling fiercly The Bolg Torgon the Mighty Warrior readies his spear. Prepared to die for his clan... But let us hope not?

   "Steady on Torgon! Surely you wouldnt hurt your old friend Shorok!? Now would you?".....

                                           **********************************

     Everything about demons screams! Un-natural. They devour, taint, destroy, and kill. The corruption can be subtle or extreme.. But any and all cases the demon in some form or another wins the day. For what they do in the long run makes your soul bitter to no end......

  At leaste that is what one of my teachers had told me...

    **Posted on every town entrance to every major Horde city**

  Greetings and salutations warriors of the Horde! In celeberation of my seven hundered and first birthday! ((Also May 25th is my RL B-day :P)) I have decided to help give back to the Horde that has been so good to me for so many years. I will re afirm my oath that I took nearly 4 years ago. I will help and aid all that ask for it. By taking you and your friends through the long dungeons of both trivial and great. In return of this service I ask only that you give me your respect as I shall give unto you, and that in future days will you speak well of this Lesser Demon. We are only as strong as our weakest link, with your permission I wish to reforge those that are willing in the fires of combat... I hope to hear from you!

  With respect and honor. Shorok Morien, Mist Walker.

       ((  Hello! A mental reminder! Im the guy that failed english in Highschool and is still saving for colledge out of his own purse:P So if this is out there with little doubt of making sense. Keep in mind its a working progress!))

  What am I?

   Remember, you cant have slaughter with out laughter. My elders use to tell me before we were sent on Missions. But where were my elders now? Probebly enjoying the pleasure of rebirth as a cat or a dog... Or one of the many youths I'm slaying before me.

Am I truly alone? Gone all gone....

   A flash of blue and green light, Flaring in the darkness of Ashenvale. Mere throwing distance from the Warsong lumber camp, and the Silverwing hold. The muttering chants of the Priestess of Elune, and the chants of the Shamans to the Horde, in the summer night. United in a comon cause it would seem.... Heh, united...

        Rain..... I've always love it when it  rains... I've always loved the wind. If I wasnt what I was, what I am. I would have tried to have been a shaman. But life is full of surprises I suppose. I watch the rain fall across my armor; this armor so finely crafted in the Death Forges in Shadow Moon Valley. A new aqusition of my clans armies. Still maintaining its Crusade agains The Burning Legion and its instruments.  My armor a black steel fitting for a Void Knight.... For a Knight of my people I have become.

     Not some human whelp or Blood elf Paladin! Narrow minds they hold...Zealotry! If it does not fit their perfect ideals then it must be destroyed!   My *human* Brother was a Paladin so long ago...... He...I did not hold such idiotic Ideals. But I suppose that was to long ago... Nothing is the same any more. Nothing ever stays the same.

Dear Journal,

Been a long time since I've written, had a bunch of stuff going on. I'm sorry, this sucks. Feels like I am neglecting an old friend or something.

Liore stayed with me for a while. Something's really wrong with him, I'm worried. He was all, like, quiet and broody and stuff. But we had a bunch of time to hang out. It was nice, having someone around again. I miss having friends around, more than I'll admit to any of them. They are having a hard enough time up north, they don't need to be worrying about me here.

I have a crib now! Well, guess Connor has a crib. Liore built it for me while he was here. *doodle of a crib*

   Hello! Sweet and simple... Shorok is with out a Master... This is usualy when I offer my Self OOC, into IC To a player. I'm not looking for hand outs or to be spoon fed plot and RP. I take care of myself, House broken.. and the like. This just helps introduce more of an Intrigue to my Character and to some one else. How many warlocks or Dark related characters wished their Minions talked back to them? Now this is not entirely simple I fear as well.. This helps develope character growth. Like a student traveling from teacher to teacher learning the trade of each....  Any one from level 1 to 80.. Wanting to give it a shot give me a message or look for me in the game.... I'd love to talk to you, even if it doesnt work out I'll have a greater veiw of the Roleplayers on H-side.....  I'm currently playing a DK orc...With funny little things above the O's. But you can message my Main Shorok.. The warlock if you cant find me..

Last orders Recieved: Defeat The Burning Legion.

    I returned to my Clans home World as I usualy did... Well World is a loose term.. Its much like Outland.. Scatterd regions floating nearly lifeless..Till the Greatest of us..*Fallen ones* Our Master Carved himself a home...  We are the lighter dark in the Verse my elders have told me time and time again.. We are not evil..Just dark.. Though some of us give into our natural born tendicies..Others dont... We are the by products of The burning Legions creations. We retain our memories.. We retain our desire for Free will.. In many ways I suppose we are like the Forsaken.. In a trial, in rites to earn our Freedom... Like the forsaken we fight an overwhelming enemy...

Dear Journal,

I have a fun little story for you!

Once upon a time there was a preistess that SUCKED at keeping things to herself and not butting in when help's not wanted or asked for.

New spells made: One

   Eeris, a younge elven Death knight. No matter her age... Though she counts her self as a 10,000 year old.... You would think some one so old would welcome the passage of death. But no she Desires more time. She met the demon Immorthal in Diremaul... One of the great forgotten elders of our time. Siphoned for centuries by the long lost Kaldorei...Bah even in my younge years I can spell in this damn book of mine!

**Shorok leans back in his chair lost in though his flamed tipps eyes flicking like candle flames**

  With my fel knight and my Nephew Koodles (pet name) We ventured into DireMaule... That poor boy needs to stop and think where he's going. Always in a hurry, Never takes the time to see the worth of things nor the safety of others. Always running ahead to face a new challenge..But allways defeated by the challenge of life.

Days since my return: 1

Lovers: 1 and only 1.

Fights: 0..... for now.

Dear Diary....

Hmm where to start.

It has been so many months since I had left the lands I had known behind as a Paladin/Blood Knight Adept,  and since I left the side of the demon I had fallen for, Shorok , to take a journey into the lands of the dead and beyound, where I began my training as a Death Knight.

Some would say my journey started when I died, but truthfully, my journey started on that day when I met the demon they call Mistwalker, Shorok Morien.

I wouldnt call it love at first sight when I met him I suppose... but it seemed quite instanteous, and it felt so right... to fall for a Demon much older than I am.... but... I'm not complaining!

 Dear Diary

This is the first time I'm using the diary, I think my uncle gave it to me, he's always showering me with gifts for some reason.

*Tesstirina looks up from her diary in her temporary quarters, Ashe asleep on the bed in a corner.*

I think I can put this to good use by keeping track of my family which always seems to be expanding in one way or another. Now where should I start? I guess I should start with blood relatives, like Xannivard.

   Souls sent home: 87

    Life mates: 3

    Thralls: I think 37

     Prospects: 2

Do as we ssssssay....
He bassically told you to do it
Quit pushing us out....
The elf knows bessssssst...

*rezitar bows before Xannivard and bids him a farewell* Good Eve to you Mi'lord- May the Shadows Guide you....
*Rezitar is about to walk out when he hears an elf mention the scar on the back of his neck*

"I see shorok got to you too, Interesting"

    The temperd enviroment of the City Dalaran floating in the night sky of Northrend. Was still..for the most part. The armies of the Horde and Allaince hurried about. Deeds to be done, lives to be taken. So a soft scream over the commotion of races was barely audible....

       Kneeling at my old friends feet, Surprising her with my speed across the room. The *beast* part of me coiled and leashed to a wall.. The disciplined manners of old taking over. My tail coiling around me, Right knee down, left knee up. Left hand still and clasped over my knee as my right hand held aloft at her waist... Open and waiting for hers to pay respects. A soft sigh escapes her lipps as I felt her hand slipp into mine. Lifting my lipps to her hand, over turning it.. Cultures mixing as I softly lick and bite her wrist. A shuddering gasp leaving her. Her hear rate jumping...

      Remember always... cookies and milk.....

   Indoor plumbing! By the old gods and new! Indoor plumbing is for the win. Be it gnomish, Goblin, or mage.  The fresh water streaming down my scaled carpace felt so good. Even the feeling of it slipping past the cuts and bruises across my body. The protective wards spread through the shower room Flared. Keeping my....Pressence contained.. A little gift given to me by the Council, Still I wonder if it was meant to keep me in.. Placing my hands on the walls around me, Flexing my talons in and out of my finger tipps. Uttering a low growl from my throat, scales rattling across my body spraying the shower walls. I pull my clasp from my hair, letting my scaled dreads fall loose across my back and shoulders.

      The perfect dance of battle, The stepps, the way bodies move across the dance floor of the battle field. The smell of fresh blood mixed with sweat. The music of steel and screams of the fallen.

   The dank smell of Dalaran's  sewer filled my lungs, Combined with sweet loving taste of blood and whimpering fear. I slidd under my brother Shaaghuns Axe as he cleaved it into the elven gladiator's chest. The pleasent sound of the soft skins voice slidding across my scales like living silk. I blast an elven combatent in face fire smoldering in the palm of my hands. The fell  across the ground silenced, still, free from the world of pain.. So many wariors trying for our attention, my brother and me. I spread my hands out calling on the shadows, the runes carved in my flesh glow molten red. The screams of agony befall my victims. Shaaghun chuckles at my side; cleaning his blade. As warriors fell one by one.