Omarja is not particularly large for a troll, nor is he bright. In truth he looks something like a broken coat rack strung together with twine, draped with
soggy blue leather. His thought process would not be best described as complex nor intuitive. Possibly his only impressive features might be his well-groomed
tusks and his flaming red mohawk hairstyle, both of which he is very proud of.
It might then seem strange that he is able to survive among the ranks of The Risen. Though The Risen is not the most powerful guild on Azeroth, nor are they the largest or wealthiest, they are positively ambitious. This causes the members to constantly push themselves as well as each other to perform more challenging and astonishing tasks.
When Omarja first joined The Risen he was in Ghostlands. He had been in service of the city of Tranquillin for some time as a scout and saboteur. For one particular mission he joined up with a tauren Shaman named Marstrathin. This was the first tauren he had come to know personally.
Marstrathin and Omarja had taken a bounty to slay the Blood Elf traitor Dar'Khan. Dar'Khan had foolishly tried to steal the power of the Sunwell causing a backlash of arcane energy and scattering much of the Sunwell's power.
"How hard can one blood elf be to kill, Mon?" Omarja asked brashly.
"You're joking right?" Responded the less optimistic tauren.
Omarja just smiled as he fiddled with a crude garrote that looked about ready to snap.
"Alright, well you have potions and other supplies right, Omarja?" By now Mars had become a bit wary of the rogue's casual attitude towards the value of a life.
"Potions, food, water, bandages and napkins, Mon"
"Great. What, napkins? Fine… napkins. Let's go."
The road to Deatholme was not a long one out of Tranquillin, only true if you consider the Dead Scar a road. The Scar is populated by undead with no allegiances and a hatred of the sentient. The majority of the undead along the way were a mere nuisance to the pair, Marstrathin could often handle them on his own unharmed and when he couldn't a single well placed blow from Omarja was often enough to finish off just about any of them.
There mettle was challenged at one point when somehow a giant undead abomination known as Luzran managed to charge Marstrathin before either he or Omarja could react. The Rogue had been resting in the shadow of a nearby rock, lurking in the shadows as usual when Luzran first reached his tauren companion. The beast had the obvious intention and capability to end Marstrathin's existence and tried to in one swing of a massive chain. The large shield the shaman carried took the brunt of the blow. After almost being knocked over Marstrathin reacted first with a frost shock, slowing the three-armed abomination to a crawl with the force of cold. This allowed him to back up and avoid another attack while getting ready to channel a lightning bolt.
At first Omarja just watched: out of curiosity more than shock. He needed to determine what his companion was really capable of, and of course, what the abomination could do. Omarja quickly made the decision that working together they could win, but separately they would each die. With the creature distracted it was not hard for the rogue to sprint and maintain stealth at the same time. Quickly he covered the ground between himself and Luzran by leaping from a nearby boulder. With a flash the first lightning bolt struck just before Omarja brought his primary blade down on the rotting flesh of Luzran behind the beasts right shoulder. Omarja drove the blade in again violently stabbing at its back while as well using his second dagger to attack less directly.
Luzran staggered briefly, having been harmed so much, so quickly. The mindless abomination had been thrown off balance by the sudden force. Now, Luzran was more interested in the very dangerous Omarja. Turning with unbelievable speed Luzran threw a massive swing at his new and more convenient target. With impressive grace the troll dodged the giant cleaver. As any rogue, he had been trained in the art of evasion. This was all part of his normal combat routine anyway. The set up: let them swing big and hard. Watch for the openings, get them tired and finish off your target without having to work too hard.
Slicing and dicing the troll worked away as he dodged the cleaver, chain and sickle. Another lightning bolt blasted the beast from behind it's imminent destruction was obvious. Finally, the beast was beginning to fall forward it was so overextended from attacking. One careful stroke of a dagger combined with all the weight of a falling abomination, and Luzran was eviscerated. The abomination's body was so destroyed that the forces animating Luzran lost their hold and dissapated.
"Omarja, are you still alive under there?" Came the voice of Marstrathin.
"I hope not, Mon, 'cos me hip's not supposed to bend that way." An arm reached out from under the carcass. With the adrenaline gone the stench of decay became overwhelming. "And it stinks so really, I hope someone else is under this thing, not me at all."
Grabbing the troll's wiry arm Mars was able to help pull him out quite easily. It took only a healing wave from the shaman to mend all of Oma's wounds.
They were just outside Deatholme now and not far from their real objective. Omarja worked busily to remove Luzran's head.
"Dare I ask why you're doing that?" the shaman asked.
"Didn't you see the poster? Here I have a copy." After placing the giant head in a sack he handed the tauren a copy of a wanted poster. It read:
A bounty is hereby declared for the abominations known as Knucklerot and Luzran. These dreadful creations of Dar'Khan are extremely dangerous and have been sighted patrolling near the Howling and Bleeding Ziggurats. Individuals seeking to claim the reward must present the abominations' heads to Deathstalker Rathiel as proof of the deed.
"Thanks for the heals, Mon, now let's get a move on." The troll disappeared into the shadows of Deatholme making himself noticeable only to Marstrathin, only when it was necessary.
It might then seem strange that he is able to survive among the ranks of The Risen. Though The Risen is not the most powerful guild on Azeroth, nor are they the largest or wealthiest, they are positively ambitious. This causes the members to constantly push themselves as well as each other to perform more challenging and astonishing tasks.
When Omarja first joined The Risen he was in Ghostlands. He had been in service of the city of Tranquillin for some time as a scout and saboteur. For one particular mission he joined up with a tauren Shaman named Marstrathin. This was the first tauren he had come to know personally.
Marstrathin and Omarja had taken a bounty to slay the Blood Elf traitor Dar'Khan. Dar'Khan had foolishly tried to steal the power of the Sunwell causing a backlash of arcane energy and scattering much of the Sunwell's power.
"How hard can one blood elf be to kill, Mon?" Omarja asked brashly.
"You're joking right?" Responded the less optimistic tauren.
Omarja just smiled as he fiddled with a crude garrote that looked about ready to snap.
"Alright, well you have potions and other supplies right, Omarja?" By now Mars had become a bit wary of the rogue's casual attitude towards the value of a life.
"Potions, food, water, bandages and napkins, Mon"
"Great. What, napkins? Fine… napkins. Let's go."
The road to Deatholme was not a long one out of Tranquillin, only true if you consider the Dead Scar a road. The Scar is populated by undead with no allegiances and a hatred of the sentient. The majority of the undead along the way were a mere nuisance to the pair, Marstrathin could often handle them on his own unharmed and when he couldn't a single well placed blow from Omarja was often enough to finish off just about any of them.
There mettle was challenged at one point when somehow a giant undead abomination known as Luzran managed to charge Marstrathin before either he or Omarja could react. The Rogue had been resting in the shadow of a nearby rock, lurking in the shadows as usual when Luzran first reached his tauren companion. The beast had the obvious intention and capability to end Marstrathin's existence and tried to in one swing of a massive chain. The large shield the shaman carried took the brunt of the blow. After almost being knocked over Marstrathin reacted first with a frost shock, slowing the three-armed abomination to a crawl with the force of cold. This allowed him to back up and avoid another attack while getting ready to channel a lightning bolt.
At first Omarja just watched: out of curiosity more than shock. He needed to determine what his companion was really capable of, and of course, what the abomination could do. Omarja quickly made the decision that working together they could win, but separately they would each die. With the creature distracted it was not hard for the rogue to sprint and maintain stealth at the same time. Quickly he covered the ground between himself and Luzran by leaping from a nearby boulder. With a flash the first lightning bolt struck just before Omarja brought his primary blade down on the rotting flesh of Luzran behind the beasts right shoulder. Omarja drove the blade in again violently stabbing at its back while as well using his second dagger to attack less directly.
Luzran staggered briefly, having been harmed so much, so quickly. The mindless abomination had been thrown off balance by the sudden force. Now, Luzran was more interested in the very dangerous Omarja. Turning with unbelievable speed Luzran threw a massive swing at his new and more convenient target. With impressive grace the troll dodged the giant cleaver. As any rogue, he had been trained in the art of evasion. This was all part of his normal combat routine anyway. The set up: let them swing big and hard. Watch for the openings, get them tired and finish off your target without having to work too hard.
Slicing and dicing the troll worked away as he dodged the cleaver, chain and sickle. Another lightning bolt blasted the beast from behind it's imminent destruction was obvious. Finally, the beast was beginning to fall forward it was so overextended from attacking. One careful stroke of a dagger combined with all the weight of a falling abomination, and Luzran was eviscerated. The abomination's body was so destroyed that the forces animating Luzran lost their hold and dissapated.
"Omarja, are you still alive under there?" Came the voice of Marstrathin.
"I hope not, Mon, 'cos me hip's not supposed to bend that way." An arm reached out from under the carcass. With the adrenaline gone the stench of decay became overwhelming. "And it stinks so really, I hope someone else is under this thing, not me at all."
Grabbing the troll's wiry arm Mars was able to help pull him out quite easily. It took only a healing wave from the shaman to mend all of Oma's wounds.
They were just outside Deatholme now and not far from their real objective. Omarja worked busily to remove Luzran's head.
"Dare I ask why you're doing that?" the shaman asked.
"Didn't you see the poster? Here I have a copy." After placing the giant head in a sack he handed the tauren a copy of a wanted poster. It read:
A bounty is hereby declared for the abominations known as Knucklerot and Luzran. These dreadful creations of Dar'Khan are extremely dangerous and have been sighted patrolling near the Howling and Bleeding Ziggurats. Individuals seeking to claim the reward must present the abominations' heads to Deathstalker Rathiel as proof of the deed.
"Thanks for the heals, Mon, now let's get a move on." The troll disappeared into the shadows of Deatholme making himself noticeable only to Marstrathin, only when it was necessary.
