Race: Dark Troll.
Languages: Zandali, Darnassian, Orcish.
Faction: Shadowtooth Clan.
Personality: As one of the last few of his kind, Chinga is extremely cautious and defensive on free times, and extremely aggressive and dangerious in battle. He is not one that could easily be angered, but once his patience is breached, few things can keep his bloodlust sated. He is not one to calculate and plan. Rather a simple and straight-forward personality, he likes to keep things short and private. He feels lonely.
Likes/Dislikes: He likes to lose himself in battle, as he was taught to do. Likes to wander around in night, in jungle environments, and hunting. He dislikes sun, daylight and too bright places. He hates Twilight's Hammer above and beyond anything else, ever. Anything or anyone related to Twilight's Hammer tastes his battle axes.
Appearance: A hulking giant at 10.5 feet length, he has a fearsome and intimidating posture. His skin is dark-grey, and is covered in scars of various sizes. Most of his battle scars are focused on his arms and chest. He has long, bright, dark-blue hair. Two enormous tusks pop out to front, but the right side one is broken in half. In his early years, he used to wear tribal garments, but after the events which he considers his "Great Exile", he adorned himself with a black leather curiass and pants, similar to his people's traditional fashion. He carries his dual battle axes on his back, clinging on primitive leather leashes which he stitched together. His battle axes, while shaped as normal one handers for him, could be considered as medium sized two-handers for the smaller races.
Strengths/Weaknesses: His huge size plays a role as both a strength and weakness, depending on the situation. It makes fighting harder in confined places, but in open areas his brute strength is unmatched, even comparing to Tauren and Vyrkuls. His natural troll regeneration granted by his loa Goldrinn makes him a persistent and remorseless fighter, but also makes him vulnerable againts fire attacks. He lacks any ranged combat tactics and weapons, but hurls his axes if need be and can continue fighting by tooth and claw, to compensate. He is not very talkative and still savage, making life in a civilized social environment very disturbing, both for him and for people around him.
History: Born to the mystical Shadowtooth Clan of Dark Trolls, neither him nor anyone he met remembers his birth date. He spent his early years in his clan's barrows, never to see any kind of light. This greatly incresed his other senses, especially smelling. Dark Trolls were a savage race, feared even upon their other troll kinsman, and the less civilized race of all. Most of the other Dark Trolls were considered complete savages, but his clan was somehow a more civilized society. They lived on the outskirts of Mount Hyjal, in the dense forests that overlooked Ashenvale. Shadowtooth were shamanistic at core, and they had witch doctors, shadow hunters, priests, berserkers and warlords.
After some time spent in darkness, on a full moon night, he was brought to open air. There he was trained, for many years, in the ways of spear, tooth an claw. Theirs was a small community, spread on a few barrow dens that were close to each other. Seeing his physical capabilities, elder shaman chose him for 'Jang' training: The protector. It was an honor for their small community, one which he carried proudly. He used to go out hunting with a group of kinsman, allways in the night. They used to tell tales of past, some of which were passed by many generations. One of them which he liked most was about an ancient wolf, that fought ferociously in a battle that was long ago. Stories tell of an ancient time that chaos and darkness swept the world, and demons flooded the hills like a cold rain. But there was this huge, white wolf, among the demons, and he feared none. He threw himself upon the demons, and slaughtered them like they were sheep. Tales were different each time, depending on the one that told it, but every time 'the Wolf's savagery and combat provess were given as an example. Young Jang swore that he would do the same if his people were to be endangered. He even began to see the Wolf from the tales in his dreams.
One hunting trip, he was careless and got ambushed by a night prowler, a shadowy panther species native to the region. A few moments passed before his fellow hunters saved him from the panther, but he had severe injuries already. They carried him back to Clan's hideout, but he was surprised to see that his wounds were already closing on the road. By the time they reached the dens, he was healed enough to walk by himself. They explained what happened and elderly shaman said "You be blessed by de Loa, Jang. Tell me, who ye be seein'?". He told him "De Wolf". Shaman was delighted to hear that, and told him about how the spirit world and loas worked and what he should do to further please his favored loa. He did not tell the young warrior by then, but shaman thought that he carried potential even to be a shadow hunter.
Jang grew even bigger and reached his prime, becoming a fearless berserker of the Clan. He used two crude battle axes that was granted to him by the elder, and he joined his clansmen in many skirmishes and conflicts. Sometimes they fought satyr, sometimes fulborg, sometimes other creatures of the forest. Hostilities never ceased in this densely forested part of the world. Their shaman used to communicate with the mysterious night elves to keep hostilities at a minimum between them. He taught Jang and some other promising warriors the night elven language, in hopes that one day they would take up the mantle of elder and carry on the relations with them.
Then, a day came, that demons crowded the forest like a swarm, with many creatures with them, just like the tales of the past. When Malfurion and Tyrande called upon the forces of nature to fight back the demonic invasion, surprisingly Dark Trolls also heeded the call. Jang, with many other jangs and their warlords and witch doctors, joined the fight againts the demons. It was the true and ultimate test of his skills, and he dove into a deep state of berserk each fight.. Deeper and deeper. Each time he sunk his axe in an undead or demon skin, he felt closer to his Loa. Bloodlust covered his entire mind, and blood of his own and his adversaries covered his body, he stood alive at the end of the day. Malfurion blowed the horn and spirits of the forests gathered around the World Tree. It was a sight to be seen, one Jang never forgot.
Few returned home, victorious and proud, yet mournful of their loses. Still, they fested and celebrated their victory over an ancient enemy, and all of their warriors, including Jang, were honored. Peace was restored, although at what cost: World Tree was lost, forests ravaged and tainted, and some demon groups remained, retreating to the depths of the forests. There were battles to be fought, and in his delusions of grandeur, Jang joined other warbands to occasionally clear out the forests.
After one fight, they were returning home, in the pitch black night. He was wounded again, this time a fel guard's huge glaive left a mark on his chest. His regeneration was doing well, but he ordered his fellows to go ahead and not to wait. There, he lied down under a huge tree, to rest and recuperate, where he fell asleep. He woke up to the day light, which he despised much. It was the first time he saw day ligt since the Battle of Mount Hyjal. He approached the Clan's camp, and his keen senses caught the stench of dead. He rushed forwards, only to find the great trees which housed dens for his clan burned down, his brothers and sisters killed, his people in ruin. Little beings, in their dark purple clothings remained there, with storm elementals and magics at their command. He saw them planting banners and defiling the dead. A great fury rose inside him, image of his beloved Loa covered his entire mind, and he let loose a ferocious battle roar. After some fighting and some killing, a huge dark purple wyrm chased him off through the forest. He fell down from a waterfall to Ashenvale and passed out.
Following years, he vowed vengeance for his people. He learned about his enemy: The Twilight's Hammer. In their twisted plans to prepare the world for their Master's return, they had wiped out his people for no reason. He hunted in the night, stitched together a dark leather garment and began a guerilla war againts the immense enemy. He could trust no one, he was all alone in the forest, in the night. Hence he took up the name, Jang'fon, the lone protector. He was the sole survivor of his people, and the only remaining Dark Troll warrior. He ambushed caravans, killed Twilight agents, murdered and cannibalized them... All in the dark of the night. He slowly got himself consumed by his hatred.
Then, time has changed once again. Orcs, taurens an even troll of other tribes came to the forest. That was no longer a forgotten part of the world. Night elves fougt to the bitter end, and forest was engulfed in war once more. Jang'fon stayed his hand and never intervened, it was not his fight. His enemy was the damned Twilight's Hammer and he kept his bloodlust for them. He got caught twice, once he broke out of the cage and ran away, the other time he choked the ogre who was dragging him to a work camp. Finally, he heard rumors that Goldrinn was seen once more. Almost immediately he set out to find him. He managed to reach the Shrine of Goldrinn, and found it crawling with feral worgen. He spent some time in the forest, hiding, waiting for an oppurtunity to sneak in, but it was impossible. They would have smelled him far away. By sheer luck, a group of strange adventurers cleared the place out, and cleansed the soul of Goldrinn. He approached the shrine and offered a bunch of human and ogre skulls, taken from agents of Twilight, as an offering. Goldrinn welcomed his devout follower and blessed him.
After a long time hunting in the woods, all alone, all by himself, hiding from tree to tree, from rock to rock, sleeping in the day and killing in the night, finally he found himself a new home. What he considered to be his "Great Exile" came to an end, and safety of the shrine gave him renewed purpose: He was the ultimate killing machine, poised to strike down any enemies of his revered Loa, Goldrinn. He took up his arms dutifully and marched with his new brothers to avenge his fallen people, and to put an end to whatever kind of evil the Twilight's Hammer tried to unfold.
Today he still resides at the Shrine of Goldrinn in Mount Hyjal, occasionally killing agents of Twilight wherever and whenever he encounters, in the dark of the night..