#stonehoof

[korammstonehoof]

OOC: Thanks to the ever amazing @brothersemberfell, this blog, and Koramm himself, now have a face! Side note, that’s not fluff, that’s just a very poofy scarf thing. Maybe. Haven’t decided. Maybe he’s just a very fluffy cow?

[korammstonehoof]

A letter to Adrianal Novastorm

A letter arrives to the desk of Adrianal Novastorm, carried by a small earth elemental that waits around only long enough to deliver the letter before disappearing back into the earth. The print is surprisingly delicate and well-written.

To Dawnward Novastorm,

My name is Koramm Stonehoof, recently joined Emberward. During a recent meeting with the Greenseer, I expressed and interest in studying psychology, to further my ability to heal by not only healing the bodies of the injured, but helping those who may need healing of the mind, and of the spirit. She suggested that I speak to you on the matter, as you are the one most well versed in the subject within the Dawnmenders.

This missive is intended for two purposes, an introduction, though I believe we have already met informally, during the brief get-together at the lodge, and secondly, to make a request of you and your time. As I am to understand it, you have recently had a number of situations occur, and this has led to you and your partner bringing a young child into your lives. As much as I would care to learn from you, I understand that a young child can take much of a parent’s free time. Even so, if it would not impose too much, I would request some of your time, if you are willing to teach me.

In exchange, alongside whatever form of payment you care to request, I would be willing to offer my services as a babysitter, should you and your husband require a night off. I have been told that I am very good with children, and I do find that non-Tauren children can find me an odd and entertaining sight. If you have no need of such services, that is fine as well.

Thank you for your time, and whatever the reply, I appreciate the consideration of my request,

Koramm Stonehoof. @thesunguardmg @ocarina-of-what

[korammstonehoof]

[Magmire Miseries] The Lesson of Staying Focused

The woods surrounding the town of Magmire felt darker and more foreboding than Koramm would have liked. He had expected, of course, for there to be some sense of dread, that was why the Sunguard had been dispatched there, the tales of corrupted plants and animals that magic alone could not cure. The air held the stench of rot and foul magic that even the wind, when it deigned to make its presence, could not take away. It was more than that, however. The elements themselves seemed to be giving the area a wide berth, and that spelled danger.

The Tauren paused, looking to the area around him. Much further ahead, almost out of hearing range at this point, he could still make out the larger contingent of the Sunguard that was planning to clear Magmire of any hostile elements. Around him, though, spread out and mostly working on their own, he could see a few of the Elves that had signed on for the task of trying to gather plants to help make an antitoxin for whatever it was that was corrupting the forest and its inhabitants.

Koramm shifted his weight from foot to foot as he pulled out a set of tools from the satchel on his side. He was a shaman, and one with plenty of experience in herbalism. Finding and properly harvesting a few flowers and other plants for testing wouldn’t be too hard for him, although the conspicuous absence of the elements continued to unnerve him. It brought to mind far too many memories of their absence from his life when he had ignored their calls and stayed at home in Mulgore. If even they tried to avoid whatever was corrupting these forests, the Tauren questioned if it was wise to be going into them himself.

It did not matter, though, and Koramm made his way deeper into the woods. He could not find any corrupted plants on the outskirts of the forest, though a short walk into the more dense and crowded area of the woods gave him what he was looking for. It looked at first glance like bloodthistle, although the signature red petals of the plant were streaked with black and purple. With practiced care, the Tauren began to harvest the corrupted bloodthistle, taking precautions to avoid the sharp thorns along the stem of the plant. It would do no good to risk getting infected by the corruption due to being careless.

A loud bellowing rang out through the trees, coming from a great distance away and yet sounding far closer than Koramm would like. “Was that a bea….”

The Tauren’s words to himself came to a pause as he felt a prick on his finger. Looking down, he could see thorn still in his finger, the blood pooling slowly around the small wound. “Shit,” was all Koramm said before he pulled his thumb away from the plant. The Tauren’s head rushed as he sat down, and then crashed the rest of the way backwards as the world faded to black.

——

Compared to the dark forest in which he had passed out, the bright light of the Dawnmender’s Infirmary was nearly blinding to the Tauren. He moved to rise from the bed, but groaned as the blood rushed away, leaving him lightheaded once again. With a muttered curse, he let his head fall back against the pillow.

“Oh, good, you’re awake! That means the antitoxin is working as it should.”

Koramm glanced over to the red-haired elf that was smiling at him from nearby. “Ugh. What happened to me?”

“It looks like you managed to get some of the corruption from Magmire into your blood. Thankfully, a few of the others noticed you and managed to get you back here safely. We managed to get an antitoxin made, though we weren’t exactly sure what the proper dosage would be for a Tauren, so it was touch and go there for a while.”

Caeliri spoke again as Koramm made another move to get up. “I wouldn’t try to move quite yet. Your body’s still working the last of the corruption out of its system, so you’re still quite weak. Just try to rest and recover for a while. You should be out of here within a day or two, thankfully, since we got you back and treated rather quickly.”

With a sigh, the Tauren resigned himself to bedrest for a few days. Though he internally cursed himself for being so stupid and careless with a corrupted herb, he was thankful to the elements that he still yet lived. @Thesunguardmg

[korammstonehoof]

[Your Affairs] A Tauren in Elven Lands

Koramm sat at the desk of his room, the piece of furniture far too small for his size, but fully appropriate for the elves who would normally see it used. He was hunched, the fur near his hands dotted with ink as he wrote the final few lines on the last of the three pages set before him. As he set the pen back in its slot, he sat back in the chair, the light above providing more than enough illumination to read the words now that his head no longer cast them in shadow. The words on the paper are scrawled in surprisingly tight, well-written letters.

--

To the High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof,

I know not who else to send this letter to, and so I have sent it to you. My family has long since passed, fallen in battle against the Legion in Hyjal, and from simple illness not long after that. I have no mate to leave behind, to make arrangements should I fall in battle, or succumb to illness as one of my parents did before me.

So to you, my Chieftain, I send this letter, and a copy of the will that I have drafted at the behest of the leadership of the Sunguard, in whose service I now work. The call of the elements led me to them in the wake of the Legion’s arrival on Azeroth, and so it is with them that I shall serve. And as odd and bewildering as I may find these elves at times, I shall serve them as I would serve you and our people, for it is the will of the elements.

Enclosed below is a copy of my will. Should you receive word of my death, and see that the few requests of my will have not been met, I would greatly appreciate it if you would try and grant a Tauren’s last request.

--

To whom it may concern,

I, Koramm Stomehoof, currently write this document while of sound mind and body, and under no duress. Unless otherwise indicated this document shall be taken as my final will and testament, to be read and carried out in the event of my death, whether of natural causes or otherwise.

I have no true worldly possessions to speak of. My current dwellings are lodgings that I am provided by the Sunguard, and as such will fare no worse with my departure. What little coin I have, I request be used to make the arrangements outlined at the end of the document. Should any coin remain, please see to it that it is put to use housing and taking care of any younglings that may be forced into terrible circumstances due to our battles against the Legion.

My herbs, reagents, and other alchemical supplies, I request be given to other alchemists among the Sunguard, so that they may be used in the protection of their people.

And, finally, I request that my body, my weapons, and my totems, should they be recoverable, be returned to my people in Mulgore. It is my greatest desire that I may be laid to rest amongst my own people, in my own homeland, and in the customs of my people. If my body is not recoverable, please see to it that my people get as much of me, or what can represent me, as possible, for I would hope my spirit to be at rest, so that I may walk with the Earth Mother when I am gone.

--

When the ink had finished drying, the Tauren stood and took the three sheets in his hands. One, a copy of the will, he folded, placing back down on the desk. The others he rolled, placing into a hollow tube and sealing the end shut with wax. With a sigh of resignation, Koramm wrote the name of his High Chieftain on the outside of the tube, and slipped it into a pouch on his waist, so that he could mail it out at the first opportunity. @thesunguardmg

[korammstonehoof]

Day 4 - Experiments

Describe your character’s perfect day

—

“Attempt 16 seems to be progressing nicely, although 14 and 15 are wilting,” Koramm muttered to himself, jotting down a series of notes in a small book that he held in his large hands. Within it, pages upon pages of columns listing experiment numbers, soil compositions, watering times, as well as locations.

With a sigh, the Tauren closed the book, tucking it back into a pouch. Sunlight shone down into the forest clearing in which the Tauren stood, surrounded by rows of herbs, both plated in the ground and within planters, mostly dead. Getting down on his hands and knees, Koramm began emptying the planters off to the side of the patch, leaving the still living herbs where they were. Eventually, all that remained were the few so far successful experiments.

“I’ll have to leave these for today, still need to make a trip to the greenhouses to buy some more fertilizer, and hopefully some seeds. The Foxflower seems to be adapting nicely to the local weather conditions, but the rest, not so much,” the Tauren mused to himself. “The Aethril was the one I expected to adapt the easiest, but it’s being the most fickle. Too delicate. Have to keep trying, though. If I can figure out how to get these growing properly out here in the Dawnspire, it would make ingredient gathering for our alchemists much easier.”

Turning to head once more through the forest path he had come here on, Koramm paused to toss more dirt on the still smouldering embers of his earlier fire. Still the elements of fire and air refused to respond to his calls, but he could not let it deter him. At the very least Emerite and Azulon still responded to him when he requested the aid of earth and water.

The long walk back to the Dawnspire from the forest clearing gave the tauren plenty of time to think about possible soil and nutrient mixtures for his next batch of experiments. Perhaps he should start looking into the amount of sunlight as well, though that would be a bit harder to manage without constant supervision. Perhaps it would be a good idea to bring his findings to the Sunguard proper, see if there were a way to get proper funding and assistance for the experiments, rather than running them by himself out of a random patch of uninhabited forest. He’d make a note of it, bring it up to the Greenseer.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Koramm made it back to the Dawnspire. The tauren found himself stopping as he walked through the market, a particular smell catching his nose. Seeing the store that the delightful scent was coming from, Koramm ducked inside, returning to the street a few moments later with a still steaming slice of meat pie in his hand, which he ate readily, the remainder of the pie within a box tucked securely under his arm. The pie would make for a delightful dinner.

As the tauren walked deeper into the citadel, he wondered if he should make a trip to the alchemy workshops or not, but he put those thought aside for the time, content with simply enjoying the fresh meat pie.

[korammstonehoof]

Site Write Day 3 - Whispers

Write about a conversation your character overheard and wished they hadn’t.

—

The morning’s light filtered through the small window of Koramm’s dwellings, creating a line across the wooden floor and the tauren’s face, rousing him from his sleep. With a groan, Koramm rolled over and rubbed at his eyes, slowly forcing himself to sit up and just breath for a few moments, trying to wake. With a large yawn, and a scratch at the back of his neck, the tauren got to his hooves, using the bed’s frame to help him up.

With two lethargic steps, the Tauren crossed the small room and reached down, taking a pair of light, soft clothes from the pile of folded fabric, and dressed. Satisfactorily covered for the public, Koramm grabbed a nearby towel and opened the door to his small room, entering a small, walled off hallway with a closed door on the other side, and the path to his right leading out into the morning sunlight.

It was a short walk in the brisk morning air from Koramm’s rented room to the Dawnspire’s public baths. Though the Dawnspire provided housing for those who required it amongst the Sunguard’s forces, the tauren had found that the communal living of the barracks had not… suited him, and had taken to renting a very small room from a thankfully accommodating family nearby. Of course, it had taken many assurances that he truly was a member of the Sunguard, though only an initiate at the time, and a promise not to break anything, not that there was much to break beyond the bed and the desk, before they had allowed him to take of residence. He was certain that if he so chose he could afford a more spacious accommodation, but the distance to the Dawnspire, combined with hosts willing to actually rent to a tauren, made the small space livable for the present.

Still, one thing that was not provided for by his payments was access to a bath, and as much as it would do in a pinch, the thought of bathing in a river wasn’t exactly appealing to Koramm, not when there were the public baths at the Dawnspire. And so, the tauren made his way to them, down the stairs, and at the edge of the baths, stripped off the clothes that he had put on not long before, set his towel down, and slipped into the waters of the baths.

Only a few others were there at that hour, doing, assumedly, the same thing as the Tauren; stripping away the grime of the previous day, and preparing themselves to take on the challenges of the new one. Tuning out his surroundings, Koramm set to work at scrubbing the dirt and dust out of his fur.

“…ace smells like a fucking barn. The baths shouldn’t smell like that.”

The tauren’s ear’s perked as the voices got nearer. Coming from behind him, Koramm couldn’t see the speakers, only hear their words as they walked down the steps towards the baths. “There’s your answer, Jace. There’s a tauren in the baths. It smells like a barn because there’s a cow here.”

“Quiet down, Man, what if he hears you?”

Koramm continued washing, acting as if he heard nothing, no turning around to look at the pair as they approached. “I told you not to call me that! My name’s Manaeri. And what do I care if it hears me? Bloody cows shouldn’t be allowed in the Sunguard. Chop ‘em up and turn them into steaks to feed the real soldiers.”

Koramm couldn’t help it, flinching visibly at that remark. “See, guess the thing did hear me.” Manaeri’s voice grew louder, shouting towards the tauren. “Hey cow, get out of the baths! You’re making it smell like a fucking barn!”

Ignoring the insult, Koramm continued scrubbing down his fur until he felt a foot hit him on the shoulder. Finally, he turned, looking up at the two elves, each clad in only a towel wrapped around their waists. “Didn’t you hear me? I told you to get lost so we can bathe without your stench assaulting us.”

The tauren simply turned back around and reached under the water to scrub at his legs. “I have just as much a right to use the baths as you, I am a member of the Sunguard too. If you find the sight or smell of me too offensive, you can come back later.”

He could hear the elf audibly fuming behind him, and tensed his shoulders before the kick he knew was coming once again. Ignoring the blow, Koramm continued scrubbing his legs, finishing off his cleaning before he turned a final time and looked up at the elf once more. “What’s your name and rank, soldier?”

Manaeri scoffed, his face growing arrogant. “Emberward Shortspear, Oathsworn. Not that you’d know anything about that, you damn cow.”

Koramm chuckled, scooping a handful of water and cupping it against the part of his shoulder that the elf had kicked, calling for the elements’ aid to act as a preemptive measure against possible bruising from the kick. “You are correct, I am not Oathsworn, at least not at present. It is something I may do in the future, since I have no intention of leaving the Sunguard. However, I, too, am an Emberward, so as your equal, you have no right to be giving me orders.” With a sigh, it pulled his hand away from his shoulder, the cooling effect of his healing leaving him. “And, furthermore, as you should well know, attacking a fellow member of the Sunguard, especially unprovoked, is punishable.”

He saw the realization creep into the elf’s face as he stood, angling his head so that his horn caught on the elf’s towel, pulling it off as he rose. The large tauren stepped out of the baths and on to the stone walkways, now looking down at the elves. He let his eyes glance down at the uncovered elf and chuckled. “I see the name ‘Shortspear’ fits you well.” Koramm bent down and gathered up his clothes, his own towel, and removed the towel caught upon his horn. “As there has been no harm done, I’ll refrain from reporting your actions to your superior. Should it happen again, I will not be so forgiving.”

With a smile, the tauren turned and headed towards a nearby bench, his clothes and both towels in hand. “As much as you may dislike my kind, should you ever end up in the infirmary on my rotation, I will ensure that you receive the absolute best of care. Anything less would be a disservice to the Sunguard.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at the elf one final time. “Oh, and thank you for the extra towel. One truly isn’t enough for all my fur.”

Chuckling under his breath, Koramm found the driest spot on the bench lining the wall of the baths and set his clothes down, laying the two towels on top of them. With a rough shake, he sprayed water in all directions, his fur sticking out on end from the motion. With a sigh, and the smile slipping from his face, the tauren began drying off his fur as best he could. Even with the extra towel, all they would serve to do was remove the dampness, he would have to let the air and sun dry him before he could dress once more. Grabbing his clothes, he moved himself further from the baths at the centre of the pit, taking the two sets of stairs to the outer ring, where he sat, setting the one towel over his groin, and the other over his head, leaning back with a sigh.

It was not the first time a blood elf had insulted Koramm, not even the first time that one had done so to his face since he had joined up with the Sunguard, and he was certain that it would not be the last. As much as he wished to do all that he could, that thought weighed him down, as the sun’s rays slowly worked their way towards drying out the tauren’s fur.

[korammstonehoof]

Site Write Day 2 - Loss

Day 2: What is/was your character's relationship with their parents? How do they express their feelings towards one another -- or, if their parents are deceased, do they carry on their legacy in some fashion? -- Koramm sniffed, rubbing at the matted fur around his eyes. Even now, at sixteen, he was still just a child amongst his people. A older child, nearing adulthood within a decade, but still a child nevertheless. All around his, more tauren were gathered, many weeping, others consoling those who were. At the centre of the large circle were a number of funeral stands, and a pyre, and scattered amongst those stands many small effigies, representing those whose bodies could not be recovered. The dead and lost of the battle of Mount Hyjal. It was one of the small effigies that Koramm stood in front of, sniffling and wiping away the tears as they formed. The older Tauren behind him laid an hand on his shoulder, and he leaned into her side. “Why did he have to go, mom? If he had just stayed behind, he’d still be here with us!” The elder Stonehoof rubbed his head, soothing him. “Koramm, you know that your father died a brave man. I wish with all my heart that he had survived that horrible battle, but without his sacrifice, it is possible that none of us would be standing here today.” She leaned down, kissing his forehead. “If you truly wish to do your father justice, you’ll keep up your training, and keep taking lessons from Pand to become a great healer. Then nobody will have to suffer as your father did.” The younger tauren continued to sniffle, but he nodded, wrapping an arm around his mother. “You’re right. I need to keep getting stronger, getting better, so I can help people like father did.” Though he knew it not, Koramm would return to that burial hill only a year later, to see his mother leave him to walk once more with the Earth Mother, struck down nothing more than a simple cold, and the cruel hand of fate, his healing gifts not yet come to bear.

[ablacktalon]

Beach Assault (3)

From the grey walls on either side of each passenger, as well as below those that sat in the central row, ejected every manner of menacing blade, mace, gun and bladed staff. Each decorated in their own right, many by specific cultural quirks of their origin. Baldris took up his phoenix guarded longsword, looking over to Odenka to examine her weapons of choice. Gripping a slightly angled stone maul into her right hand, the Tauren's eyes opened with a glint of fury deep within, still suppressed by a relatively approachable exterior natural to her typically peaceful race. Her left hand dove into the straps of a rather large punch shield, at one point it might have bore the insignias of the Horde races, a scarlet, proud calling card of any aspiring champion. The colors have long since been worn, now taking on a metallic mesh of rust-brown with the occasional speck of white paint trying to sneak out in between.

She returned the glance, knowing the Blood Elf's rising anticipation and sharing it despite years of experience. This was it. This is where the bloodshed begins. She rose in the very front row on the right side of the ship, brows furrowing – this is where she wins! The down-sloped front of the ship ejected steam, depressurizing and being pushed out to the front with around 3 meters to maneuver. Its enormous steel plating encountered gunfire right away, but did not bulk an inch, its plates then extended to the sides with 4 on each, and the internal mechanics growled and fumed. A natural wall formed for the crew to exit in temporary safety, pushing and dividing cumbersome sand in the process. "Go go, disperse!" The leading Shaman called and the 30 ran out to make use of the new room created by a barrier. Odenka took a central position before the giant wall, slamming her shield into a specific central socket left on her side. Even now, her ears harangued with the drumbeat of a bullet rain chewing at the steel on the other side.

"Enchant!" she called, signaling her preparedness to a nearby mage. The Undead pressed both hands into the wall and it was detached from the rest of the ship's mechanical handling. It then began to glisten, a chorus of magic into which 4 of the designated priests joined, raising their hands towards the sky. Creating a temporary barrier of Light, they gave the mage time to convert the natural energy of the steel into mana by means of draining its existing enchantments. These were specifically designed to do nothing more than give additional mana when removed, aiding the spellcaster and destroying the material in the process to give soldiers view of the coming battlefield. The mana was redirected into Odenka's shield, creating a golden glowing barrier with a crimson tint, which the priests immediately began empowering.

For but a brief second, Odenka could see her comrades in the other platoons in the distant sides, their shields either preparing or already set and awaiting the co-joined move. Orash's first was to the left, and give or take 98 other ships stretching into the distance on her right. "Second platoon, advance!" the leading sergeant cried out and the packs sprung into action as others have done the same. Marching up the sandy beach, she immediately felt her hand ache as the machine gun fire increased in quantity. She saw the bullets strike and ripple, dropping lifelessly to the ground as the crimson bulwark attained endless repair from the priests behind. Her shield arm began to quiver – not due to fear, but the sheer amount of kinetic force distorting its hold. Most of the shieldbearers had this issue along the coast, even if most of them were designated for either great magical inclination or sheer physical force. Her forte was the latter.

Leading the way on her rise ahead, she made great care not to slip on the initial sandy slopes – it wouldn't seem like such a big deal if one mishap could kill her entire platoon. Squinting as the first rays of the Sun's light pierced smog and rising smoky sand, Odenka saw a fiery hellscape. The land was uneven, crawling with ironbound soldiers and their cries of anguish. The artillery had certainly done a number on them, and only halted now to avoid friendly fire. Through the disarray, desperate officers tried to coordinate the Kor'kron elite into formations at the coming vanguard. Their few nests were still working their best to keep the Third at bay, only serving to slow their advance to buy precious seconds for recuperating organization.

Her sergeant howled out, "This is it, prepare the scroll--!" his command was cut short however as the shield tore a heavy ripple with a glowing tracker line coming right through. Yelping, the great Tauren was stopped dead in his tracks, tipping backwards and falling over with a look of horror as the last reflex frozen upon his face. Odenka stopped with the disaster setting into the hearts of her comrades and yelled out as immediate as she could, "Armor piercing-- reinforce the shield!!" Kneeling, she steadied the defenses, allowing the priests to focus harder. Another tracer round sent harsh waves across its red sea, but this time withheld. Stonehoof's eyes widened, along with those of Baldris behind her, as they saw the sniper round stuck in the shield, dropping just millimeters short of piercing her head in the same fashion as their commanding officer.

An Orcish Shaman ran over to the dead and glanced to Odenka with grit teeth. "He's gone. I can resurrect him with some time, but we need to move now." The pack exchanged looks and Stonehoof grit her teeth, giving Baldris a brief glance. The kid was shivering and meeting her grim eyes gave little comfort for the road ahead. "...I will take command of this attack! Barrok, resume resurrecting him." The Shaman nodded and began singing and chanting to the spirits, attempting to retrieve the round and maintain his spirit within the living world. She lifted the barrier, bringing her frightening hammer close to the side in preparation and called out the new, old command. "All on me, activate the scroll of speed!" They were falling behind the other platoons because of the loss, leaving gaps in the line, making every second precious. Their mage rose a crumpled piece of paper, whispering a chant to him self, causing the runic letters to begin glowing. Odenka then glanced behind her to a nearby druid. "And scroll of the beast!" The latter nodded and rose a slightly neater looking paper scroll, chanting something and then roaring out a savage call of inspiration.

With both cantrips prepared, Odenka glared forth, opened her eyes wide and roared a hoarse instruction: "Bloodlust! Sons of war, CHARGE WITH ME!" And to a Shaman's searing song, the platoon saw red dead ahead. Their feet sprang forth, raising sand in their wake and were unperturbed in the rising adrenal rush. With the empowerments they'd received, the range of their charge was far greater than before and they'd managed  to catch up with the other parties in great haste, reforming the line without issue. Like a tidal wave of blood, they came over the hill to witness the iron shores on the other side, preparing to face them. Their lack of sleep had them on edge, causing heavy armor to be more of a detriment.

Odenka saw this ragtag up close with each step, time slowing down in the haze of their Shaman's menacing chant. She saw the frightened eyes of her enemy behind their spiked tin cans, she heard their heart beats increase, and felt their final breaths in her mind. Augmenting the grip of her rune emblazoned warhammer, she cried out. "Release the shield, we'll break their line!" And so it was, allowing the Tauren to finally lower the arm into a more proper, self-defensive guard. Now was the time... The throes of bloodlust consuming her mind, a battle trance slowly starting to take the hearts of her comrades, she let out a savage cry and slammed away a rising enemy spear, following suit with the rotating grim reaper's scythe of a mallet that collapsed the Kor'kron's helm -- and everything it hoped to protect.

"FOR THE HORDE!"