Appearance: Almost nine feet in height and weighing in near three hundred fifty human pounds. He has broad shoulders and an impressive musculature. His hands are big enough to grip a full grown man's head (a bit of an exaggeration). He wears his hair in a warrior's pony tail and keep his beard trimmed, but still coarse. When not adorned in battlegear is often dressed in nothing, but his simple loincloth. He possess a tattoo of the Horde's crest on his left deltoid. His eyes are the color of dried mud(light brown). His most prominent feature however is his reddish brown skin pigment.
Personality/other attributes: He is as Honor filled as an Orc can be. He is extremely loyal. More intelligent than most Orcs (not along the lines of say Thrall, but of a lot of other Shamans). He is a very talented warrior and master tactician who is only going to be more impressive with experience. He is a member of the Kor'Kron Elite, he was chosen for his battle prowess and sound tactical skills. In battle he is level headed and always has a plan which he fluidly adapts as the battle progresses. While calm on the battlefield he is susceptible to jabs at things he hold dear (The Horde, The Warchief, his Honor, etc.) and will become quite enraged. Normally though, he thinks before he speaks, but always speaks his mind. He enjoys bettering himself and practice. He has a strong sense of right and wrong heavily dictated by his Honor (think Medieval Knight... kind of). His word is his bond. Very friendly, generally well liked. He doesn't particularly hate humans and their lot, but he hates the Alliance. He likes the members of the Horde, but is often skeptical of the Sin'dorei and the Forsaken.
Likes: (This will be separated by commas in no particular order) The Horde, The Warchief, Garrosh, Shamanism, Orcs, Tauren, Trolls, sometimes Goblins, good stories, old warriors, warm fires, good beer, training, sparring, hunting, battle, Garadar, Nagrand, Orgrimmar, Axes, more specifically his axe Gol'mash, his gun, his wolf Iluth, helping, Honor, courage, boar (best when fried in thin fatty strips), fishing, cooking
Dislikes: (same thing as above) The Alliance, undead things, Elves, demons and their magic, things that threaten his people, cabbage, cheaters/tricksters, cowards, warlocks, The Cataclysm/ Deathwing, The Twilight's Hammer, the arcane
Axe and Wolf:
Gol'mash translates to Axe's Heart from Orcish. Gol'mash is a very large axe with a crescent moon shaped blade on one side only. The haft of Gol'mash looks as if a whole tree were uprooted and a blade was attached; the earthern look of the axe, as if the whole thing were pulled from the ground, is rather evident. Gol'mash was his father's axe. (If not apparent, he does wield this monster with two hands)
Iluth (a name I made up) is a large sheworg with a dark fine pelt. She was given to Icro as pup when he entered Orgrimmar by the Shaman the journeyed with him. Iluth has trained with Icro since he acquired her and is equally competent on the battle field as he is (if not more so). She is fiercely loyal and defensive of Icro. Icro thinks of Iluth as partner rather than a pet; Iluth thinks Icro is her pup.
Icro was born in Nagrand to the brown skins, The Mag'har, the uncorrupted; this always makes him proud. He was born to orcs whose names have been lost to time, just before the Green Skins fought against the humans for a second time(If thats not clear, he was born before the second war). His father a large (even by the Horde's standards) brute of an orc was a skilled warrior and he hefted the axe Gol'mash before his son. His mother a almost nondescript orc save for her tracking and hunting prowess. Icro grew much quicker than the other children around him and was often looked up to(literally :P)by his peers as the de facto leader. He started training the day he could heft his first axe, his father taught him the finer points of combat, while his mother taught him skills needed to survive. At night Icro and his family would sit near a roaring fire as his father relayed fantastic tales of the Orcs beyond the Dark Portal.
After Thrall's arrival Icro's father was hard pressed by his son to join the green skins in Azeroth. Icro would always receive the response "When I am good and ready, son". Icro's duty to family was the only thing that kept him in Nagrand. During training one day Icro saw what looked be a shaman walk into the village. A normal occurrence to be sure, but this time was different, it was a green skin.
"I have come by Thrall's command! There is a call to arms for all able bodied warriors and farmers for the war against the Lich King! All are welcomed in Orgrimmar! Every orc has the right to refuse this summons." ended the shaman quietly. After almost a year and two years worth of Icro's pestering, Icro's family set out with a small caravan towards the Dark portal and further to Orgrimmar. This caravan included several small farmer families, none with noteworthy warriors, a greenskinned shaman guide and Icro's family.
Not even three steps into the Hellfire Peninsula the caravan was ambushed by a large band of Fel Orcs. Icro, his father, and the shaman worked in tandem. The other males took up arms while the females protected their young. After what seemed like infinity and incalculable amount of bloodshed there was few of the fel orcs left, yet fewer of the caravan. So many of the caravan died, including Icro's mother. Finally only a handful of fel orcs remained. Icro saw his father combating two fel orcs, so he quickly parried the blow his opponent and decidely rent the fel orcs torso. While sped towards his father's defense time seemed to slow as the smaller of the two fel orcs darted behind him and delivered a blow to the spine. Stunned (and paralyzed >.>) by his breach in defense the air left his lungs with great haste. The fel orc still in front swiftly decapitated him. A surge of primordial rage echoed forth from Icro as his father's headless corpse dropped to its knees and slumped forward. His speed and ferocity was unmatched. Dropping his own axe he rushed towards the pair of fel orcs. He started with colliding his shoulder into the ribs of the smaller orc. With an ear shattering crack as its ribs broke, the fel orc flew back a hearty ten feet. Icro turned to face his other enemy and delivered a swift blow to its gut with a knee to his chin following that. As both orcs recovered, Icro retrieved his father's axe, Gol'mash. As if on cue the smaller orc charged, only to be cut off at the knees. Icro delivered the killing blow as the larger orc rose to face him. Then looked each other in the eye for no more than a second, but it felt like one hundred years. The glowing crimson red of fel orcs eyes matched the fury in Icro as he made the first move. A swing right, the fel orc ducked and tackled Icro to the ground. In what can be best described as ten starving wolves fighting over a small piece of meat, the two fought. Using his head, literally, he bashed his skull into the bridge of his enemy's nose. While the fel orc was stunned Icro grasped its neck and tore out its throat.
Icro rose. Spying his father's axe, strapped to his back. He surveyed what was left of the caravan. In return the rest of the caravan gawked in awe as Icro walked towards them after felling the last aggressor. He was soaked in the dark blood of the fel orcs and breathing heavily. The shaman, still alive, limped towards him.
"Lok'tar Icro," the shaman started "I have you second name. Kneel that you might receive an old shaman's blessing. I name you Icro Grimblood, in honor of the blood you rest in and the bittersweet victory you have won us."
"I am honored by the name you have given me, old one." Icro uttered.
"We must honor the dead then press on towards the Dark Portal. We look to your guidance Icro, you will lead us now" said the Shaman.
The caravan continued on to Orgrimmar with no hiccups larger than the one in Hellfire Peninsula.
Icro's first year in Orgrimmar was everything he thought it was going to be and more. He spent a majority of his time honing his skills with the veteran warriors. He officially joined the Horde's warriors. Before he was sent to the Northrend front however the Lich King was slain by some human. Disappointed at missing his chance to serve the Horde, Icro waited with the warriors as they shared stories of great Orcs. He learned of his history, his people's follies and triumphs. He heard stories of Thrall, Varok Saurfang, and Garrosh Hellscream; though the tales of Broxigar Saurfang and Grommash Hellscream were always the ones he most requested. They fought demons until their dieing breaths, Icro could only hope his end would come in a similar fashion.
(This story will most likely be expanded and fleshed out, but heres a quick summary) Icro's chance to serve the Horde came after the world was shattered by Deathwing's return. That day had been an odd one to begin with, Icro had heard the rumors of cultists roaming around the city, but he hadn't seen any evidence. He was taking his patrol through the Cleft of Shadow as he saw out of the corner of his a group of hooded figures in one of the tents deliberating. From what he could tell the group consisted of two male orcs, a male goblin, and a female orc. Though they were talking in hushed tones he heard little bits as he passed about 'a plan, the Warchief, and some hammer.' The goblin was fiddling with something when he dropped it. The silver coin rolled towards Icro and struck his foot landing face up. the coin had what looked like a hammer adorned with rays all around it. The goblin scurried out, grabbed his coin, looked up at Icro, whimpered, and ran back to his compatriots. One of the male orcd closed the curtain to the tent as a flash of green light shone inside the tent illuminating the goblin's shadow on the curtain, followed by a shrill shriek.
Icro knew he would soon have a fight on his hands. He ran to the stables to ride his, now grown, wolf into battle. He rushed to the guard post and ordered grunts on either entrance to the Cleft of Shadow. He and the other captain, a older orc of about forty five, descended the ramp into the cleft. The cleft seemed to have more life than it did earlier. More inhabitants stirred and were moving about as if anxious. Icro spotted the she orc in the middle of the fray. He rode up to her.
"Sheorc I demand your name and purpose today," Icro barked.
"I will give you nothing brown skin. All you need to know is that this world will burn," She stated calmly. "FOR DEATHWING!" She roared.
"FOR CHO'GALL!" the cleft bellowed in response.
"GRUNTS FORWARD! LOK'TAR OGAR!" Icro shouted defiantly. The cultists never stood a chance. As they converged on Icro and company, the grunts under his command stormed in a slaughtered them all from the outside in. The problem arose when the casters, who were all close to the she orc, shot bolts of mad energy outwards catching some of the unaware. Icro cut a swath towards the she orc as his troops battled around him.
"I'm going to have to put you down bitch!" Icro commented with a throaty chuckle. She closed her eyes before he reached her and said something very lengthy, but very quickly under her breath.
"We will see who is laughing now," she said, which was the only sound Icro could hear. His gaze was fixed on her as ooze blacker than the darkest night seeped from her body. She started to grow and her limbs started mutating into long, thick tendrils.
"First you, then the Horde. All will be-frl grlgrllgmlrmlg molmlrglrogmlo" said the monster that now stood before Icro as its transformation finished.(SSDD) Icro hopped off Iluth and commanded her to attack. He watched the way the tentacles moved, analyzing their speed, force, and the way the recovered; he stepped in, Gol'mash shining with excitement.
Icro opened his eyes. (I'll flesh out this story later = P) He was in a large building with several orcs, trolls, and other members of the Horde spread out with some ailment or another. Gol'mash was leaning against the wall opposite of him.He looked down at his rib cage which was wrapped in bandages.
"Ugh... What happened?" Icro said to no one.
"You slew a monster and quelled the cultists... for the time being," a deep voice said over his shoulder.
"Who?-- Warchief!" Icro almost coughed. He stood up and saluted as fast he could albeit that wasn't very fast in his current condition. It left him light headed and very dizzy.
"Rest young warrior. We will speak tomorrow," Garrosh said. Without another word he left. Icro settled on the ground and collapsed.
The next day provided a similar excitement to the day previous. A dopey looking goblin was waiting for him when he awoke that day.
"Oi. The 'chief wants teh see ya," said the goblin before he motored off. Icro dressed in his gear and strapped Gol'mash to his back. He stepped out into the bright midday sun. Iluth was happily devouring a large ham hock in the small stable near the infirmary. When Iluth saw Icro she dropped the boar, pounced on Icro, and licked him vigorously.
"Alright girl, off. We have to go see the Warchief," Icro stammered. Iluth backed off and they departed towards Grommash Hold.
"In," the Kor'kron Guard commanded. Icro walked forth into main chamber and saluted Garrosh promptly.
"Warchief, you beckoned?" Icro questioned.
"Yes... You are brought before me today to honor your triumph yesterday. You are to be made one of my Kor'Kron elite, I heard the tale of how it seemed you danced with the blade, how you swiftly put down the cultists with few casualties." Garrosh said sternly. Icro knelt.
"Gol'kash, what would you have me do," Icro said humbly.
"I have too many guards here as it is. I am baby sat by my own warriors. You will be a champion. You will seek out where you are most needed and apply your skills aptly," Garrosh commanded.
"Swobu!" Icro acknowledged. Icro stood and saluted.
"Now go," Garrosh said sitting back in his chair.
Note: If you see any blatant grammar errors (nothing nit picky) I'll gladly correct them. I'm probably going to make a whole short story on the day he get his last name (I didn't want to fill his whole bio up) and his Kor'kron acceptance (same reason)
Edit: Changed age, I was actually kind of iffy on it too :/ I think a older character give me a little more freedom any way.
Edit2: added portion of history, finishing after noms
Edit3: Finished. Waiting for comments and acceptance.
Edit4: Took Black Mage's thought to heart and changed two through four I would appreciate thoughts and comments!
From what I can tell these are the points you are either missing, or have not done correctly :
-Your acceptance into Kor'kron is still not clear; I read the note at the bottom but still...
-Omit the name 'Paragon' in the bio. In the Lore, Arthas was slain by Tirion Fordring and the argent crusade ( or a group of brave champions.)
-Did he pick up his father's sword after the battle? I didn't read it.
-How did they get word of the happenings of Azeroth? caravan? Just explain that.
All in all, very good. No real attachment to a major lore character (thank god) and well written ( - a few spelling/syntax errors).
-I guess the acceptance into the Kor'kron wasn't explained all that well, but Garrosh brought Icro into the fold after saving Garrosh the hassle of dealing with the band of cultists.
-I didn't add that, thought it was implied since I named it >.> but I can add that. - added
-Thrall came to visit his grandmother and Icro was desperate to join the other orcs. Icro's father didn't really want to leave his homeland after so long. I think I will add a messenger (that shaman guide) brought news of the war with the Lich King