Server:Feathermoon US/Tarohu and Iliendri

The Spiritualist and the Sun Priestess

 * Full Names: Tarohu Sunspear and Iliendri Sunsoul
 * Races: Troll and Blood Elf
 * Relationship: Keeper and Servant
 * Titles: Spiritualist and Sun Priestess
 * Birthplaces: Stranglethorn Vale & TBD
 * Tarohu's Religious Affiliation: The Loa. Particularly Shango, Lukou and Ogoun and the Ancestors
 * Illiendri's Religious Affiliation: The Light and The Sun
 * Tarohu's Occupation: Shaman
 * Iliendri's Occupation: Priest
 * Guild: None, but they plan to seek the clan known as Noxilite
 * Combined Professions: Alchemy, Herbalism, Enchanting, Alchemy
 * Server: Server:Feathermoon

Description
The rune carved tusks, hanging feathers, worn furs and weathered leathers mark this troll as a lean and tall example of shamanism. With beads, bones, herbs, potions, tribal paints and cunning eyes, he whispers constantly to the spirits around him. The spirits in all things. His blue skin bares an abundance of scars, some of them, possibly self inflicted, ritualistic markings while others are from the hostile nature of the beasts and tribes of the land.

His totems hang about his neck, dangle from his waist, rest across his back with his axes and shield. From his waist hangs a green medicine bag bulging with herbs.

Three serpents hiss and rattle from within his bags and can be seen resting about him along his soulders and arms or trailing behind him. Often he whispers to them almost having conversations with them. Perhaps they are his spiritual guides.

With him, almost at all times, is a Sindorei woman, dressed in uncharacteristically tribal clothing. Her skin is dark and sun tanned and the two of them share an interesting bond. Clearly he would kill to protect her. She seems very much, to be his treasure.

Personality
Though he was not always this way Tarohu has become primal and savage, possessing a sense of nobility within his untamed nature. He is superstitious spiritual and lives in the moment. He is fond of the pleasures of life and seeks them when he can, be they food, drink or the arms of his Sun Priestess. It's not uncommon for Tarohu to wade into battle completely drunk to test his skill. He has a tendency to be drawn to physical and spiritual challenges as well and it is not unlike him to test himself against the savage beasts of the land, whatever they may be. This has lead him to numerous injuries and scars but have earned him many trophies of battle an challenge. His belief is that when you defeat something and take a piece of it with you, you carry its strength with you, its spirit with you both around you and within.

Pride in his People
Despite his savage nature, Tarohu is educated. haing once lived the life of a trader and having walked many roads through Azeroth he has come across many tales and has made it a point to dedicate them to memory. Most of them center around the trolls and their struggles throughout history but a select few center on different topics as well.


 * The Troll Wars are a subject of great interest to Tarohu. It is not uncommon for Tarohu to be found telling tales of this great war to those he knows and to his treasure, Iliendri.
 * Darkspear trolls are his kin however his tribal name Sunspear comes form the hope of his ancestors to one day pierce the darkness that has, historically befallen his people.
 * Raptors are the quintessential bestial companion for Trolls and when the time comes for Tarohu to tame his, he plans to hunt it alone and defeat with his bare hands.

Description
Iliendri's possesses dark sun tanned and long black shiny hair that is pulled back with a jeweled clasp. Large gold hoops and a small choker made of colorful leather straps adorn a gentle face and slender neck. Her shimmering eyes are often downcast, mostly due to shyness, yet always glancing subtlely to those around her. Iliendri's lithe, delicate form is best suited for one who follows the path of faith and worship. Having embraced the more tribal ways of her companion she is always seen wearing tribal dresses adorned with beads and feathers that reveal her slender curves, and on her feet are leather sandals or boots.

Personality
Iliendri became a different person the day she lost her former love and nearly died at the hands of the Amani trolls. Where she was once a proud at times pretentious woman, she has become humble and grateful for every day, for every gift granted to her, be it a warm smile, a kind gesture, a tasty meal or the company of good people.

Tarohu's selfless act changed Iliendri and made her the woman she is today. She is soft spoken, observant, curious about the new lands she is traveling through and eager to understand its people.

Guided by Spirits
A tale of their first tragic meeting.

Tarohu had been wandering the Ghostlands with his caravan for several weeks. He had established trade with several settlements. Carrying his wares and trinkets as he made his way. He was a simple man but proud. Keen of mind and shrewd in his tactics. He had caught news on the winds of the kaldorei encroachment, the troubles of the dead scar and more. These Blood Elves were in a land they didnt belong and he knew that more than a few would meet gruesome ends out in the lands past the Dead Scar. These green eerie eyes unsettled him and he had no love for them at all. More than once in the night, he watched as many traveled off the beaten paths, out into the wilderness. There would be silence sometimes as those lucky and smart enough made their way safely through. But more times than not, there would come screams as the hunting cats, bats, gargoyles or undead found and slew the unwise and unprepared.

He had made his way out and through the Ghostlands, pushing north to the recently unearthed lands near Zul Aman ... to the greedy adventurer this was a place to find riches and fame .. Fortune. Another way to rape and pillage, steal and raze a the lands of those who had little left but a small fortress to call home. The Amani were enemies of all... brutal, vicious, but deserved to be left alone. No were best left alone.

Near the base of the ruins, he made his way to the encampment. Kinsmen as well orcs and others were here and there in various war camps and scattered gatherings. Adventurers from all walks of life and from both the Alliance and Horde waited and prepared to enter. Fools! All of them were fools. The Amani would send them out, wailing and wounded. If the stories of the Gods were true, these ‘heroes’ would meet their end at the end of a spear or in the pots ofthe cannibalistic inhabitants of Zul'Aman. Such ways often shamed him.

Days had passed and his trading was done, he had taken the supplies to the smiths and merchants and was on his way back down the valley. He had reentered the Ghostlands and was settling in for the night to rest. The fire was rising. A few more pieces of wood would be all he needed to get through the night. He left the safety of his camp and companions and went out into the forest. He was not an adventurer but his mind was sharp. He had no weapons but had a knack for getting out of trouble. It was a secret of his. A way that the earth whispered to him when danger was near. Where others would shrug off that chill up their spine, Tarohu would listen. Always, would he listen and it saved him every time.

Tonight was no different. His arms were filled with wood and the land whispered to him .. "STOP" but it wasn’t the word he heard .. It was his interpretation of the creaking of the trees and the direction of the winds. The rustling of leaves and the direction of the clouds. It was undeniable. He needed to stop and he did. He froze in place and remained completely motionless. A tree creaked, bending to the will of the wind. A distant branch snapped to his right followed by a gentle breeze and the scurrying of a spider. Yes, the spirits were speaking to him, loud and clear. Several branches fell from the dried, dead forest, falling all about him. "DUCK" Another message that he heeded. As he sat there crouched, he saw through the low shrubs, a pair of elves. Blood Elves. One a man one a woman and they were clearly a couple. Somewhat skilled but quickly traveling into dangerous lands.

He thought to stand and warn but then he saw them. A scouting party of Amani trolls, heading towards their general direction. The spirits gave him no sign to move and so he did not. Moments later the two found themselves face to face with the Amani. The man drew an old blade and called to his mate to run. Her desire was to stand by him. They argued but only for moments. An axe whistled the air and landed squarely in the shoulder of the man. Both of their screams were tragic. His eyes grew wide as his blade fell. The amani were cunning. Any tendon that could have helped him hold that blade aloft was now severed. The blade fell to the ground and the amani encircled them.

Their mocking glances, their chuckles and smiles, their utter desire to enslave these two small elves shone brightly in the eyes of Tarohu’s barbaric kinsmen. Fists, feet, stones and staves reduced the elven man to a bleeding mass. Alive, but barely. Atop him lay the form of the untouched priestess. Her calling became clear, as through tear filled eyes, she prayed and pleaded at the same time. His wounds began to close light and heat surrounded them. A priestess of the Sun. The amani approached and attacked. Mercilessly they beat her as well, nearly to death. They dragged away the man first and as they touched the woman, the wind whistled and the moon was cloaked by the passing clouds. "STOP THEM" cried the spirits. This was his interpretation. This had to be the sign they were sending him, but how?

He thought quickly and remembered the heavy bag of gold he carried on his waist. The full earnings that he and his companions had gained on this dangerous trip. Surely these Amani would stay their spears and not slay a kinsman who offered gold. Without another thought and in disbelief of his actions, Tarohu stood tall and ran out towards the scouts. Over the shoulder of one, hung the limp, barely breathing body of the Blood Elf man. His injuries and wounds were many and Tarohu felt he would soon suffer a worse fate. They approached quickly and eyed the slim lanky form of the troll before them. Tarohu knelt and spoke.

"Amani .. You ‘ave the stron’ body of de man. I’m sure ‘im will serve you well. But .. I ask fa de woman" His heart raced and his head lowered. He fully expected for it to be met with some blunt or sharp instrument. After a pause one massive Amani spoke. "Wat das one such as you, have fa de Amani, hmm?" Tarohu spoke "Gold .. A bag full of gold for dis small frail ‘oman. She won’t even liv fa two weeks in ya’ jungles. Let me tek are from you. Jus tek me gold and give de ‘oman to me."

The trembling Blood Elf was terrified. She heard every word and managed to understand them despite their accents. The Amani paused and looked at the gold then asked. "What makes dis ‘oman so important to you?"

"Spirits, guide my decisions. De spirits whispa to me an I heed dem callin’. I don question da will of da spirits." Tarohu raised his eyes to meet those of the Amani. They stared for a moment at one another. The Amani snatched the gold and they made their way past, then dropped the beaten body of the priestess to the forest floor. "Take ar with you den, Tarohu. Do wit’ ar what y’ will. Your gold is wort more than that pile a bones." The Amani broke into laughter and left into the forest with their new slave. Her scream pierced the air as she clawed and fought, kicked and scratched in an attempt to leave Tarohu and remain with her mate, but the troll did not let go. Tarohu held on to her and soon she calmed and he whispered. "They will kill ‘im den they will torture, use and ave dem way wit you. Dere’s no tellin what the Amani would do to you oman. Be silent an stay wit me. De spirits .. Dem tell me to take you from dem. I don know why but dem tell me so Tarohu listen. Now its time fa you to listen. Death waits fa you in dere wit dem. But life waits fa you ere wit me."

In the time to follow, Tarohu would return to his companions but only to be cast away for the foolish and selfish decision to spend all their gold in this ridiculous trade. They stripped him of all his things and left him and the woman there in the wilderness alone. It would not be long before news spread through the trade routes of his actions. His life would be ruined. Nevertheless the spirits had guided him to this Sun Priestess and with her he would make his way to a place where he could learn more about the spirits that called to him.

Accepting Her Fate
Iliendri's understanding of her new path in life with her keeper

As she laid there watching him sleep, her heart went out to this man, this troll that had given all he had to save her a year ago. Iliendri sighed softly remembering that day, wishing she could finally put it out of her mind, but his screams, their shouts, the image of his body beaten beyond recognition, then her own pain and fear all lingered painfully. He would have wanted her to live, she knew this, to survive their deadly mistake in venturing well beyond the lands they knew. Salvation had come for her, in the form of a complete stranger, a man she would never have looked at twice in the streets of Silvermoon. The young priestess felt a great debt to the troll she came to know as Tarohu. He had lost everything to save her, including companionship and acceptance amongst his friends and peers. His actions had humbled her, changed her and opened her eyes to a world she realized she had never given much thought to… the allies of her people. Her life was in Silvermoon, amidst its comforts and luxuries. In truth she knew very little of the other members of the Horde, and did not care to. But that had all changed when he saved her life.

Many nights she had spent in prayer trying to understand why she had been spared by the gods, why he had saved her, yet demanded nothing of her but to simply remain at his side. In time she came to realize he himself did not know why fate had brought them together but he had faith in the elements that guided him. His faith brought her closer to her own. Iliendri dared not admit, to herself or to Tarohu that in these months she grew to care for him, for his humble and giving nature, for the manner in which he always took care of her and kept her safe. She found beauty and nobility in his harsh features and rough voice. Settling in to rest once more she nodded slowly her hand resting on his, she would remain by his side and continue to embrace this second chance at life with a man that had over the months become less of a stranger and more of a close companion. Perhaps in time they would find friends to share their stories with and a place to call home at last.

One year has passed since then and Iliendri still walks by the side of the Troll who saved her life. He has been good to her and is on the path to understanding the ways of the Shaman. Together they travel the burning lands of the Barrens, learning and growing. For all intents and purposes, she has and will remain his servant but a tenderness exists within him for her. One that may well soon become manifest in more ways than she may want or desire, but he will take that risk with his Sun Priestess. He will guide her through the lands of his people and teach her of their ways. Her life, in these hostile lands is in his hands.