It was August of 2005 and in a college dorm two friends were conversing. Finally, one convinced the other to try it: World of Warcraft. Then came the hard decision of what class and race to choose. The friend was Horde, so the other would follow. What to choose? Versatility, that was the goal. Heals seemed essential, but not being able to get chopped in half instantly like a priest. A paladin would have been ideal except that they were not Horde. And so it was settled: it would be a shaman. Orcs had the ugly look of anger while tauren looked like cows, so a troll it would be.
And so began the Troll Shaman, Klepsacovic.
In keeping with the traditions of Azeroth, traditions which cross all boundaries of class, race, and culture; he killed boars to prove himself worthy of the second level. He exceeded expectations and after much porcine slaughter he was level three. Soon he would embark on his quest to interact with the elements of the earth and acquire his first totem. But first, he had to fight demons. He was of the Horde, after all. He was also weak, and so first he hunted scorpids and hit sleeping peons, getting lost along the way and failing to find the abundant, roaming herbs of scorpids which crawl majestically along the plains of Durotar, instead contenting himself with stray stragglers, slim pickings when he needed many stingers. When it came time to fight the demons he performed his duties admirably and came away stronger and with a new, but still terrible shield.
It was time to speak with the earth. After much searching, he failed to find the Hidden Path, which should be understandable, considering it was hidden. Instead he found the cruel beings known as Makura, having fallen off a cliff into a gathering of them. For the first time, he met death. But he was resilient and returned to his body, swimming to the distant shore upon which he saw a goblin town which he would learn was known as Ratchet. However his flight from the lobster-men, as the Makura appear to be, took him away from the town and towards the Southsea pirates. They shot him and stabbed him and just as the Makura had done, they killed him. From this day after he would carry a loathing of the pirates and Makura.
It was in this way that the shaman discovered the Southern Gold Road and began his first mapping of the Barrens. But before he ventured fully into that land, he left it and navigated Durotar back to the Valley of Trials, which he promptly completed (the trials, not the valley, how would one finish a place? That makes no sense) and then left for Sen'jin, a nearby troll village.
The events of Sen'jin would wait for another day.
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