Post by jerknowme on Jun 8, 2007 3:15:44 GMT 1
Born a lowly troll jerk (as he will be known from now on) was brought up by his close family in the southern wastelands of Durotar. Life was harsh and to make ends meet he had to live by his wits, his parents were getting on in life as they had Jerk at the ripe old age of 72. Jerk's father Keretin was a mariner and all his life smuggled armaments and weapons across the great sea to supply the horde outpost of Hammerfall. This life took its toll on Jerk's father and so when he left his seafaring career he decided to buy a small outcrop near his beloved
capital city of Orgrimaar, however, as with all dreams they didnt pan out the way he would have liked.
Keretin couldn't adjust to being a land lubber and soon decended into self pity and depression. He became a recluse rarely leaving the outcrop he had purchased and relied instead on his wife, Diddanial, to provide for the family. It was fortunate that Diddanial was a very resourceful woman, and she soon had the outcrop manned with local orc peons who tended her crops and her boars. She dotingly cared for Keretin who now had become bed ridden and was slipping into dementia. Jerk was doted on by his mother, she related tales of heroism to him regarding his fathers involvement in the Horde invasion of The Eastern Kingdoms.
It was early spring of Thrall's reign year 31 when Jerk's life was shattered, an Alliance raiding party was headed for the port of Ratchet when 2 of the supply ships were caught in a maelstrom and wrecked off the coast of southern durotar, around 40 marines survived the disaster and made their way ashore. Fearing for their lives as they were now stuck behind enemy lines they decided to hole up in the first available buildings they came across, tragically the building they stumbled across was the outcrop that Jerk's parents owned. Swiftly and decisively they massacred the peons working in the fields and then headed for the homestead, Jerk still hears the crys of his mother, the gut wrenching screams of agony that passed her lips as the evil humans brutally took away the life of
the person he loved most in all of the known world. He never knew what fate awaited his father as he ran for his own life vowing with every step that he would be back.
Fate, Kismet, destiny call it what you will but the last thing Jerk remembered as he ran through the wheat fields behind the homestead was stopping briefly to retrieve a glinting item that caught his eye as he made his way through the fields, he ran for what seemed hours and when he finally collapsed he found himself in a small fishing village about 5 miles south of his parents outcrop,
feeling safe here amongst trolls he decided to relate what had happend to the local chieften, who was reluctant to send a party at this late hour as daylight had slipped into dusk, angry and annoyed Jerk clenched his fists and as he did so he felt a sharp pain as something hard bit into his skin, he looked down and saw the crimson flow of his lifes blood dripping from around his fingers, he opened his fists and saw the small letter knife that he had picked up
during he escape from the outcrop. Anger that he had initially felt at
getting no immediate assistance slowly slipped from his thoughts and his mind raced in many different directions as he decided the best course of action to avenge the cruel fate that had taken his beloved mother from him.
Slowly, silently he slipped into the darkness and made his way back to the outcrop.............
The return journey seemed much quicker and when he arrived although his home was illuminated with candles the fields around the building were draped in the blackness of the darkest of nights, no moon offered any light to assist in focusing shapes that appeared to be moving in the distance. Edging closer to the house Jerk heard the unmistakable chattering of humantongue and tried to make his way toward the sound, he held the letter opener tightly in his grasp but this time with the blade outwards. Caught briefly in the light flickering from the homesteads window he made out the shapes of 2 male humans and as he drew closer he could smell them. Something rose inside him, it was like a wave of confidence and without taking time to think about what he was about to do he felt around his feet for a stone or pebble, his fingers snaked around a fist sized boulder and as quickly as he had discovered it he raised his hand aloft and cast the rock forward with all that he could muster ..................... CRACK!!!! the rock had hit its mark and a squeal came from one of the humans, the other raised his voice and shouted towards Jerk but made no move, instead he seemed to support his tribesman and awkwardly made movement towards the homestead.
Jerk saw his chance and lunged from out of the shadows, with the humans backs towards him he raised his makeshift knife and plunged it deep into the back of the human who was supporting his injured companion, as swiftly as it went in the knife was out and this
time found another mark nearer the humans neck.
For a few seconds nothing happened both men had slumped to the floor and neither were moving. jerk just looked down and waited. Still nothing, Jerk thought to himself 'was killing this easy?'. Adrenaline rushed through his veins now and confidence was building, it wasn't over yet, not by a long way - and he knew it.
Jerk worked his way around the outside of the farmstead but always staying to the shadows, it was obvious to him that he had the element of surprise on his side, the humans had remained close to the light of the homestead but this only hindered them as Jerk could make out the shapes of the humans without ever giving away his position. It went on like this for the most of the night, Jerk would wait for the whiteskins to be split into ones and twos and then he would strike, another two dead, and another, on and on it went and the numbers of humans was dwindling. Finally the outside of the homestead was cleared and Jerk estimated the body count at
around twenty, he moved close to the window and peered inside.
On first sight he thought what he saw was his father sitting in chair infront of the fire, he was about to knock the window when the figure rose from the chair, the body was tall, very tall too tall to be a
troll and as it wheeled around he could see deep black eye sockets with burning red eyes 'is it a demon?' he thought. Jerk had to duck as the figure made his way to the very window that had offered this view, no this person was definately human, Jerk had almost a point blank look now as the man peered through the glass into the night, looking up Jerk saw the white beard he had not noticed before, the man was old but obviously very powerful, he must be the leader of the party that took everything he had away from him.
A plan entered Jerks mind and as the man was at the window he knew if he could crawl to the door that was no more that ten feet away he would again have the element of surprise. Jerk made it to the door and in a single movement open it inwards and with knife raise he swung around to wooden portal and buried the blade up to the hilt into the mans back. Instantly the man also wiped around as an instinctive reflex reacted to the pain he had felt in his back, his fist caught Jerk and knocked him into the air and away from his grip on the knife. Stunned for a few seconds Jerk had to shake off the feeling of disorientation and tried to get his bearings back, when he did he saw the man with his eyes closed and hands outstretched, the figure was chanting and Jerk knew this was not good, the man was obviously some form of magic user. What could he do? The knife was still in the mans back and nothing was at hand to fight with. A searing pain came over Jerk, it was as if his whole body was on fire and by Thrall did it hurt. The human had stopped mumbling and now was doing something Jerk could understand, he was laughing! As Jerk watched hopelessly he sensed something else in the mans tone, the slightest grimace passed the mans lips and Jerk knew that the blade in the magician's back was still causing him pain. Jerk quickly worked his hands through his clothing looking for anything that he could use to fight this monster, and suddenly he felt the cold feeling of hope, inside his jerkin he had a stash of rocks that he had gathered outside for dealing with the humans in the night, he palmed one and looked at the figure looming over him, he had started chanting again and Jerk knew he had to stop him, one more of those burning sensations would surely leave Jerk too incapacitated. Jerk took aim and fired with all the strength he could muster, the rock grazed the man's forehead, not causing harm but stopping the chanting and making the figure open his eyes. Jerk saw a brief glimpse of panic enter the man's expression, he closed his eyes once again and resumed his chant. Again Jerk reached into his pocket and took out his missile, with more deliberate aim Jerk launched his attack and this time the rock caught the human full in the jaw and Jerk was sure he heard the sound of bone snap. The impact was so perfect that the magician was knocked back against the wall, the man screamed in agony as the stone of the homestead made contact with the hilt of the knife, driving it further into the back of Jerk's attacker, more stones hit the man as Jerk continued his salvo, the battle was over, the magician slid down the wall into a seated position, his head tilted forward, and his eyes closed for the last time.
Almost in unison Jerk's eyes closed as he was overcome exhaustion as his body could muster no more reserves of energy, he could hear his mother calling and went to meet her.
It was daylight when Jerk was awoken by the Chief of the village, he had many men with him and in the confusion that ensued all Jerk could make out were the odd words that washed over him from the Chief's rantings, such as marines..... warlock ............ bodies.............hero .................. Thrall.
When Jerk finally had his complete senses back he was informed by the chief that Thrall had personally asked that Jerk be brought to Orgrimaar to relate the events that lead up to a young farmhand slaying thirty five marines and warlock. Was it really thirty five? Jerk had obviously lost count during the night but having thought about it the number seemed ridiculously high but Jerk was assured that all the marines bodies were being shipped to orgrimaar along with Jerk. Thrall was so impressed with Jerk that on his arrival in Org Thrall's personal guard were sent out to welcome Jerk into the city.
A private audience with Thrall was not the norm in Org but Jerk was privilaged to receive one where his deeds where discussed at length with the Horde Commander. At one point Thrall related that a thirty five strong body count and a warlock on top was revenge enough for Jerk, thirty five thousand would not be revenge enough was Jerks reply and Thrall could see that Jerk was probably going to become one of the Alliances most feared enemies. Thrall himself set Jerk on his way to becoming a Rogue by paying for the training bill personally. All the attributes that Jerk had used on that fateful night are still embraced today by the Guild of Rogues.
The story continues even today with Jerk but you will have to meet him and ask him of his endeavours.............. well thats if you can find him, but hes out there, in Azeroth or the Outlands, somewhere, try looking in the shadows, because one day you just might bump into him or god forbid he bumps into you if your HUMAN................
capital city of Orgrimaar, however, as with all dreams they didnt pan out the way he would have liked.
Keretin couldn't adjust to being a land lubber and soon decended into self pity and depression. He became a recluse rarely leaving the outcrop he had purchased and relied instead on his wife, Diddanial, to provide for the family. It was fortunate that Diddanial was a very resourceful woman, and she soon had the outcrop manned with local orc peons who tended her crops and her boars. She dotingly cared for Keretin who now had become bed ridden and was slipping into dementia. Jerk was doted on by his mother, she related tales of heroism to him regarding his fathers involvement in the Horde invasion of The Eastern Kingdoms.
It was early spring of Thrall's reign year 31 when Jerk's life was shattered, an Alliance raiding party was headed for the port of Ratchet when 2 of the supply ships were caught in a maelstrom and wrecked off the coast of southern durotar, around 40 marines survived the disaster and made their way ashore. Fearing for their lives as they were now stuck behind enemy lines they decided to hole up in the first available buildings they came across, tragically the building they stumbled across was the outcrop that Jerk's parents owned. Swiftly and decisively they massacred the peons working in the fields and then headed for the homestead, Jerk still hears the crys of his mother, the gut wrenching screams of agony that passed her lips as the evil humans brutally took away the life of
the person he loved most in all of the known world. He never knew what fate awaited his father as he ran for his own life vowing with every step that he would be back.
Fate, Kismet, destiny call it what you will but the last thing Jerk remembered as he ran through the wheat fields behind the homestead was stopping briefly to retrieve a glinting item that caught his eye as he made his way through the fields, he ran for what seemed hours and when he finally collapsed he found himself in a small fishing village about 5 miles south of his parents outcrop,
feeling safe here amongst trolls he decided to relate what had happend to the local chieften, who was reluctant to send a party at this late hour as daylight had slipped into dusk, angry and annoyed Jerk clenched his fists and as he did so he felt a sharp pain as something hard bit into his skin, he looked down and saw the crimson flow of his lifes blood dripping from around his fingers, he opened his fists and saw the small letter knife that he had picked up
during he escape from the outcrop. Anger that he had initially felt at
getting no immediate assistance slowly slipped from his thoughts and his mind raced in many different directions as he decided the best course of action to avenge the cruel fate that had taken his beloved mother from him.
Slowly, silently he slipped into the darkness and made his way back to the outcrop.............
The return journey seemed much quicker and when he arrived although his home was illuminated with candles the fields around the building were draped in the blackness of the darkest of nights, no moon offered any light to assist in focusing shapes that appeared to be moving in the distance. Edging closer to the house Jerk heard the unmistakable chattering of humantongue and tried to make his way toward the sound, he held the letter opener tightly in his grasp but this time with the blade outwards. Caught briefly in the light flickering from the homesteads window he made out the shapes of 2 male humans and as he drew closer he could smell them. Something rose inside him, it was like a wave of confidence and without taking time to think about what he was about to do he felt around his feet for a stone or pebble, his fingers snaked around a fist sized boulder and as quickly as he had discovered it he raised his hand aloft and cast the rock forward with all that he could muster ..................... CRACK!!!! the rock had hit its mark and a squeal came from one of the humans, the other raised his voice and shouted towards Jerk but made no move, instead he seemed to support his tribesman and awkwardly made movement towards the homestead.
Jerk saw his chance and lunged from out of the shadows, with the humans backs towards him he raised his makeshift knife and plunged it deep into the back of the human who was supporting his injured companion, as swiftly as it went in the knife was out and this
time found another mark nearer the humans neck.
For a few seconds nothing happened both men had slumped to the floor and neither were moving. jerk just looked down and waited. Still nothing, Jerk thought to himself 'was killing this easy?'. Adrenaline rushed through his veins now and confidence was building, it wasn't over yet, not by a long way - and he knew it.
Jerk worked his way around the outside of the farmstead but always staying to the shadows, it was obvious to him that he had the element of surprise on his side, the humans had remained close to the light of the homestead but this only hindered them as Jerk could make out the shapes of the humans without ever giving away his position. It went on like this for the most of the night, Jerk would wait for the whiteskins to be split into ones and twos and then he would strike, another two dead, and another, on and on it went and the numbers of humans was dwindling. Finally the outside of the homestead was cleared and Jerk estimated the body count at
around twenty, he moved close to the window and peered inside.
On first sight he thought what he saw was his father sitting in chair infront of the fire, he was about to knock the window when the figure rose from the chair, the body was tall, very tall too tall to be a
troll and as it wheeled around he could see deep black eye sockets with burning red eyes 'is it a demon?' he thought. Jerk had to duck as the figure made his way to the very window that had offered this view, no this person was definately human, Jerk had almost a point blank look now as the man peered through the glass into the night, looking up Jerk saw the white beard he had not noticed before, the man was old but obviously very powerful, he must be the leader of the party that took everything he had away from him.
A plan entered Jerks mind and as the man was at the window he knew if he could crawl to the door that was no more that ten feet away he would again have the element of surprise. Jerk made it to the door and in a single movement open it inwards and with knife raise he swung around to wooden portal and buried the blade up to the hilt into the mans back. Instantly the man also wiped around as an instinctive reflex reacted to the pain he had felt in his back, his fist caught Jerk and knocked him into the air and away from his grip on the knife. Stunned for a few seconds Jerk had to shake off the feeling of disorientation and tried to get his bearings back, when he did he saw the man with his eyes closed and hands outstretched, the figure was chanting and Jerk knew this was not good, the man was obviously some form of magic user. What could he do? The knife was still in the mans back and nothing was at hand to fight with. A searing pain came over Jerk, it was as if his whole body was on fire and by Thrall did it hurt. The human had stopped mumbling and now was doing something Jerk could understand, he was laughing! As Jerk watched hopelessly he sensed something else in the mans tone, the slightest grimace passed the mans lips and Jerk knew that the blade in the magician's back was still causing him pain. Jerk quickly worked his hands through his clothing looking for anything that he could use to fight this monster, and suddenly he felt the cold feeling of hope, inside his jerkin he had a stash of rocks that he had gathered outside for dealing with the humans in the night, he palmed one and looked at the figure looming over him, he had started chanting again and Jerk knew he had to stop him, one more of those burning sensations would surely leave Jerk too incapacitated. Jerk took aim and fired with all the strength he could muster, the rock grazed the man's forehead, not causing harm but stopping the chanting and making the figure open his eyes. Jerk saw a brief glimpse of panic enter the man's expression, he closed his eyes once again and resumed his chant. Again Jerk reached into his pocket and took out his missile, with more deliberate aim Jerk launched his attack and this time the rock caught the human full in the jaw and Jerk was sure he heard the sound of bone snap. The impact was so perfect that the magician was knocked back against the wall, the man screamed in agony as the stone of the homestead made contact with the hilt of the knife, driving it further into the back of Jerk's attacker, more stones hit the man as Jerk continued his salvo, the battle was over, the magician slid down the wall into a seated position, his head tilted forward, and his eyes closed for the last time.
Almost in unison Jerk's eyes closed as he was overcome exhaustion as his body could muster no more reserves of energy, he could hear his mother calling and went to meet her.
It was daylight when Jerk was awoken by the Chief of the village, he had many men with him and in the confusion that ensued all Jerk could make out were the odd words that washed over him from the Chief's rantings, such as marines..... warlock ............ bodies.............hero .................. Thrall.
When Jerk finally had his complete senses back he was informed by the chief that Thrall had personally asked that Jerk be brought to Orgrimaar to relate the events that lead up to a young farmhand slaying thirty five marines and warlock. Was it really thirty five? Jerk had obviously lost count during the night but having thought about it the number seemed ridiculously high but Jerk was assured that all the marines bodies were being shipped to orgrimaar along with Jerk. Thrall was so impressed with Jerk that on his arrival in Org Thrall's personal guard were sent out to welcome Jerk into the city.
A private audience with Thrall was not the norm in Org but Jerk was privilaged to receive one where his deeds where discussed at length with the Horde Commander. At one point Thrall related that a thirty five strong body count and a warlock on top was revenge enough for Jerk, thirty five thousand would not be revenge enough was Jerks reply and Thrall could see that Jerk was probably going to become one of the Alliances most feared enemies. Thrall himself set Jerk on his way to becoming a Rogue by paying for the training bill personally. All the attributes that Jerk had used on that fateful night are still embraced today by the Guild of Rogues.
The story continues even today with Jerk but you will have to meet him and ask him of his endeavours.............. well thats if you can find him, but hes out there, in Azeroth or the Outlands, somewhere, try looking in the shadows, because one day you just might bump into him or god forbid he bumps into you if your HUMAN................