Guild: None yet
Title: Fallen Brave of Bloodhoof Village
Nicknames: "The Raptor Rancher" as of recently, as she has developed a fondness and fascinatin for raising raptors as companions and mounts
Game Name: Muti
Class: Death Knight (Blood/Frost)
Age: 22 at death
Hair: Midnight blue mane with two long braids in the front
Eyes: Glowing Undead Blue
Fur: Blue-tinted ashen brown
Alignment: Lawful Good
Professions: Herbalism and Inscription
Likes: Rain, sunrises, home-cooked meals, flowers, and good company
Dislikes: Hot climates, shellfish, arrogance, small children, and being alone
Friends: None yet
Foes: None yet
Mother: Fabana Raindancer
Father: Ruug Proudmane (deceased)
Siblings: Qiros Spearhorn (younger brother), Sita Howlingwind (youngest sister)
Other Kin: Gura Stormrunner (grandfather; deceased), Shimbekh Longstride (grandmother; deceased)
Scythe (Ivory Raptor)
Rip (Swift Purple Raptor)
Gnash (Darkspear Raptor)
Sneer (Venomhide Ravasuar)
Tremor (Ice Mammoth)
Solace (Acherus Deathcharger)
Reverie (Winged Steed of the Ebon Blade)
- Garments/Armor: When at leisure, Muti prefers the comfortable simplicity of fur and leather garments, as she preferred in life. In matters of ceramony and war, however, she dons the dark-plated battle regalia of a Knight of the Ebon Blade. She carries two sets of weapons for different battle circumstances. At each hip is sheathed a razor-sharp runeaxe, ready and eager for a lightning quick flurry of vicious attacks. Strapped to her back, however, is a huge two-handed runemace that is as long as she is tall, the massive head wider than her shoulders. Her unnatural strength makes it possible for her to swing and parry with this monstrous weapon with impossible ease. With it, she becomes both a fearsome wrecking ball and an impenetrable bulwark. With these three weapons, she is more than prepared for any confrontation.
- Other: You see a tall lean-muscled sinewy undead taureness with a blueish-tinged ash-colored pelt that lacks any semblance of shine or luster. Her mane, braids, and the tuft at the tip of her ever-swishing tail are a deep midnight blue and also lacks any form of sheen. It is literally as if natural light refuses to reflect off any part of her body, save for her dark plate armor.
Her abnormally long curved ivory horns are engraved as intricately as the totem poles so commonly seen throughout tauren villages. The base of each is wrapped in aged leather straps encrusted with ice. Her broad ebon hooves are shoed with heavy-studded dark iron, making each step clank loudly upon hard surfaces. These, too, are hard-packed with ice in the nooks and crannies.
Her entire form is cold to the touch, small amounts of frost ocassionally seen clinging to her fur and armor. Her glowing blue eyes burn with cold flame and frosty vapors puff from her mouth and nostrils with every breath. She leaves frost-encrusted hoofprints wherever she treads.
She regards you with a gentle, friendly smile that puts you right at ease, despite her appearance, and yet ... somewhere in her soft expression there is an undeniable sense of sorrow that you feel eminating from her. You can't help but suspect that the taureness carries the guilt of some great unspoken burden...
Muti is kind and compassionate to a fault. Her extreme loyalty to her people makes it near impossible for her to see any faults among her friends and allies. She is quick to anger against those she deems a threat, however, and has a bad habit of swinging first and asking questions later. To members of the Horde and its allies, she is overall as patient, honor-bound, and loyal a friend as you could ever hope to find. She always does her best to make sure her companions are happy and is quick to forgive ... but she reserves no forgiveness towards herself for her perceived crimes.
Born in the unforgiving savannahs of The Barrens, Muti grew up as the oldest daughter of a nomadic family wandering the open grasslands, following the various herds of grazing animals that called The Barrens home. Nomadic life was never peaceful, however, as her family was always at odds with centaur, quillboars, or other predatory beasts. Always competing for food and safe shelter, Muti had to learn at a very early age how to defend herself and her kin against all threats. She took to the finer arts of combat with surprising ease and when she finally turned of age, took on the honored position of Caravan Guard, protecting the family's prized pack kodos and their precious cargo.
Time would see Muti and her family witnessing the history-altering arrival of Warchief Thrall and his Orcish Horde and Muti's family banded together with Cairne Bloodhoof's Tribe and these greenskinned orcs, daring to believe in the hope of a land of their very own, free of their hated enemies at long last. Muti was awe-struck by the honor and battle prowess of these orcs and spent much of her free time during guard shifts watching the grunts train. She adopted many of the orcish techniques into her own fighting style, combining agile dodges and quick attacks with the brutality and frenzy of the orcish grunts.
The road to the promised land of Mulgore was hard and long with many losses along the way. The harsh wilds and the centaur claimed her father and grandparents, and Muti grieved for them deeply, but with a strength and dignity beyond her years she refused to give in. Inspired, the remains of Muti's kin perservered through their hardships. At long last, Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof and the various tribes and family groups he led arrived in the wind-swept plains of Mulgure, with the aid of their new orcish allies.
Every step of the way, Muti helped their family and the tribes construct the homes and villages they would now occupy. Though Mulgore was, indeed, a safer place than The Barrens had been, Muti's kind still needed able-bodied fighters to protect their weaker brethren from harm. She became among first of the Braves of the newly-erected village of Bloodhoof. There, Muti lived an uneventful life of driving off marauding centaurs and thwarting the disturbances of gnoll poachers and quillboar invaders. Sometiems she would even assist her tribe in hunting the kodo, striders, and swoops for food and the wolves and cougars for furs. It was a simple life surrounded by family and tribesmen ... until the floating ziggurauts descended over their once-tranquil grasslands.
Horrific unliving monstrocities staggered across the landscape, seeking a prize of evil. Muti's breathren and young heroes of the Horde fought hard to drive the pestilence from their lands, eventually succeeding. Many moons later, war criers visited the many towns and villages across Kalimdor. Forces were amassing against the Lich King and the Scourge in Northrend. Muti knew the need to combat this threat must be dire, if this 'Scourge" could so easily descend upon Mulgore, as it had before. Muti knew what she must do...
Against the wishes of her kin and tribe, she signed into the Horde Expidition to assist the war front. Muti was caught unawares by the hardship and rigors of military life (not to mention the construction of Warsong Hold) but quickly adapted. But by the end, the Horde now had a strong foothold upon the shores of Northrend's western coast; the first of many staging grounds against the Scourge and its allies. Almost immediately, the Hold was beset on all sides by Nerubian monstrocities, hell-bent on dislodging the Horde from their master's land like a bloated tick from a kodo's hide. But the fury of the Horde would not be so easily snuffed out. The initial tidalwave of skittering limbs and clicking mandibles was driven back with a ferocity never seen upon those death-stricken shores. it was a sound victory ... but it would be Muti's last. The next time the Nerubians mustered the nerve to strike it was in the dead of night, during Muti's post. Patrolling the outside perimiter of the Hold by torchlight, Muti thought she was keenly aware of her surroundings ... but she never saw the venomous stinger of the Nerub'ar Corpse Harvester until it was too late. She never even had a chance to cry yout; the creature's parylizing toxin would see to that.
Muti's next self-aware memory was one of her standing outside an Argent Dawn stronghold surrounded by death knights. The initial horror gave way to grim realization ... which, in turn, gave way to bitter loss and deep regret. Though she had no memory of it, she had no doubt that she had taken innocent lives while under the Lich King's thrall. Muti sees her forced unlife as a cross to bear; a crime that only a second life of honor and duty can attone for. She dedicates herself whole-heartedly to the fight against the Scourge and its allies. If the Alliance come between her and this goal, then in her mind, they, too, are the enemy. The defense of the Horde and her people come before all else. Lok'tar ogar ... Strength and honor!