Nhuala Baenhoof

Baenhoof is a female tauren protection warrior on Moon Guard.

All art on this page is drawn by Baenhoof, and is not to be used elsewhere.



=Appearance= Average height for a female, Baenhoof is thicker than many. Defined, although not unfeminine muscles can be seen through her thinnish fur, as well as a layer of fat. The fat seems to be most evident in her breast and thigh regions, as well as having an ample behind. Her black fur feathers out slightly at her shoulder, elbow and ankle. Recently she has begin putting on a bit of weight, most of it evident in her hips and rear. She is rarely seen without sporting a pair of complex, knobby goggles- commonly hanging around her neck or on her forehead. Her armour is well-worn, though also well-taken care of. The thick metal plates seem heavy, but she moves with a surprising speed when provoked.

=Personality= Brutish and blunt, loud and often obnoxious. However, she is not unfriendly. This tauren has no qualms with loudly and rudely interrupting anyone to start a conversation with them, or voice her opinion- those annoying things that she, in particular, seems to be exceptionally full of. She is arrogant, cocky, and brutally honest. Baenhoof often wears a crooked grin. More obvious to some than others, Baenhoof tries her best to maintain a gruff exterior to outsiders. She is quite aware she appears intimidating, and plays off that to her advantage...and often amusement. However, any amount of time spent with her will reveal a softer, more caring side. She is not without her wisdom, being especially versed in love and war, and will not hesitate to dispense anecdotal advice and counsel to anyone who halfway looks like they need it.

Baenhoof is exceptionally quick to anger, often flying into a rage at a single underhanded comment. This enraged state may be hidden, briefly, but it always shows itself after the tauren has confirmed that yes, they did INDEED call her a tin-can rustbucket cow, and she will begin throwing punches shortly thereafter. A wider-than-normal grin and a burning stare are two good indicators of this state.

Perhaps attributed to her dedication to boldly picking fights with dragons and getting hit in the head, Baenhoof exhibits a rustic manner of speech, seemingly cutting out as many vowels as she can. However this is likely due to a sort of uncomfort with using the Orcish language, as her Taurahe is fluent and nigh on well-spoken.

She holds a particular penchant for brawling, storytelling and badmouthing Garrosh Hellscream.

=Childhood=

Baenhoof was born in a hard and confusing time for her tribe. The Warbringer Tribe, once black sheep in Thunder Bluff, were approached by the Grimtotem as potential allies. The Warbringers refused- but because of their contact, they were exiled along with the rest of the Grimtotems. The Warbringer Tribe has since made peace with Thunder Bluff, but not without cost. They were hunted almost to extinction, and now only a handful survive.

She grew up angry, bored, and a problem calf.

Upon coming of age, the crone shaman told her what her trial would be. She was sent to kill a centaur. Whether she lived or died, she would be an official, adult member of her tribe, and honoured as such. She left Warbringer mesa on a warm summer night, armed with only a large axe and a waterskin. Five days later, she returned- caked in blood from head to hoof. She would not speak of what she had done, and her eyes held a kind of hardness to them. A scout returned a day later- she had massacred the children and women of a nearby centaur tribe. And so, she was given a name. Baenhoof- a dark, malicious name for a troubled child.

She was promised, after this, as the eldest daughter in the Tribe, to the son of the Chieftain in a neighbouring tribe- the Earthshaker. Young Rodakar and young Nhuala, two black-furred problem children. They spent much of their time together.

Baenhoof, growing restless with tribe life, left to find her own way. She journeyed with Rodakar to Orgrimmar. They joined up with the Horde militia, and grew in skill and muscle. Baenhoof found the simplistic combat training to be cathartic, a way to lose herself honing her muscles and joining the body with the blade. In time, again, she found herself becoming bored with the endless patrol schedules. Baenhoof hungered for more. She and Rodakar left the military as soon as they were able, and looked for work as mercenaries.

Their first contracted job was to supplement a sideguard going into an ancient cavern, hunting for something...the head of the expedition called it 'the Molten Core.' They faced ancient horror after horror- and with each foray, their numbers grew smaller and smaller. It was days, perhaps weeks, until they reached the bottom of the pit...then, utter chaos. A monolithic being of flame and rock, calling himself Ragnaros flung their allies aside, swatting at so many insects as if they were nothing. Baenhoof and Rodakar became split up. A lone warrior dared call the name of the elemental giant. Ragnaros sought to crush him...and failed. A nearby priest had shielded the warrior, and he had suffered only scratches. The expedition forces rallied. Bit by bit, it seemed they were wearing the monstrosity down. Baenhoof rushed into the fray. Rodakar, on the other side of the vast cavern, began channeling a spell...and something changed within Ragnaros. It was only seconds, however, before the giant's gaze was focused on Baen's mate and best friend...and the bull was instantly incinerated. Baenhoof will swear to this day that she could hear his scream from across the cavern...and that it was the darkest day of her life. She blacked out. She says she can't remember the days that followed. Only that there were no ashes to spread at the funeral. From that day on, Baenhoof vowed to devote her life to protecting others, and that no one she loved would ever come to that end ever again.

=The Kor'kron= ((Work in progress))

=Present Day Events= Baenhoof, a grown female, lives as a mercenary and a nomad. She kills to survive. With few posessions besides her armour and kit, she travels wherever her work takes her, rarely staying longer than a few days in one place. Her nightmares are still haunted by the screams and yells of her mate in his death throes, she still sees the flames when she drifts off to sleep. The dreams come duller, sometimes only briefly now...but they're still there.

Finding herself in Silvermoon city, just finished with a contract, Baenhoof took a few days with the elves to try and lose herself in the crowds, so to speak...with her height and width, it wasn't possible to actually lose herself in them.

She met an elf, a paladin named Venyas Silverhawk. The two hit it off immediately...then, unexpectedly, they fell in love. An uncommon union for sure. They resented the stares and insults they recieved. But in love they remained, forming a meaningful and deep relationship.

The tauren was visibly happy. Peaceful. She bought and set up a permanent home for herself- a simple and spartan tent on Hunter Rise in Thunder Bluff. Life was looking up.

The couple was not perfect, however. Their infrequent tiffs became fights became quicker and more violent. Baenhoof sensed she was letting the elf too far into her life, she was becoming too attached. Afraid to lose him and suffer the same as she had when she lost Rodakar, she became quicker to anger over smaller things, her hairtrigger temper amplifying itself a hundred times over. She exploded at him...and went home alone.

That night, she was awoken by someone standing over her in her tent. Fearing an attack on her life from some old enermy, she knocked him to his back and gained the upper hand- kneeling on his throat with a dagger held over him. She was enraged. The clouds moved from the moon, and it's light streamed down on his face.

Rodakar.

Baenhoof was so stunned she allowed the bull to shrug her off, weakly holding the dagger. Even if it was a disguise or magic, how could she ever strike the one she loved?

Dream-like, she let him explain.

"The spirit and the body are but water to a vessel- two seperate things, able to exist without the other should the spirit be strong enough. My spirit, banished to the Elemental Planes, set out on a new task- there is a war going on, Baenhoof. The Firelords seek to overturn the rest- they have forgotten their place. I fought for balance, and in my struggles, it was deemed that I was to return to Azeroth in the material. I was gifted a new body from the Waterlords. I have reincarnated."

She embraced his scarred and burned body, unsure of whether it was real, and thanked whatever powers that had allowed him to return to her. She vowed she would not lose him again.

The next few days were hard.

Promised to Rodakar from a young age and still very much in love with him, she resolved she could not let the charade with her beloved Venyas continue, though she still loved him as well.

Meeting in Silvermoon, she explained what had happened, her heart breaking at the sadness she saw in his eyes, and that which she felt within herself. The two exchanged a tearful goodbye, and went their seperate ways.

((Most of the following information pertains to the SOULFIRE Cataclysm lead-up storyline, a collaboration by Baenhoof and Rodakar's players.))

Days later, things began to happen. Rodakar's chest began to glow orange like fire in a strange rune pattern. The bull became worrisome, Baenhoof restless. Long, long hours of meditation, endless study...the bull worked overtime to discover it's meaning. Baenhoof was upset- surely she could help him?

Her help was denied, and she slowly returned to her old brooding habits.

A week passed. Rodakar had finally discovered it's meaning...and it was dire. Though he could not yet say who or WHAT had put it there, he knew the huge rune on his chest had one purpose. It was tied, somehow, to Ragnaros. Every time he cast a spell or communed with the spirits, the rune took some of that power and transferred it to Ragnaros. But a single rune on a single shaman could not possibly make a difference to the Elemental General...there had to be more runes. Many more. Hundreds, thousands...who knew?

But the die was cast, and the pieces set. The runes must be destroyed, altered or stopped in some way, and it must be soon. Rodakar returned to study and meditate, using his gifts as a Farseer to aid him.

Baenhoof set about finding help, friends and allies to aid her in the conflict she knew was coming. Choosing only her most trustworthy and well-known friends, she slowly created an elite force.

Baenhoof had maintained contact with Venyas. She could not allow him to leave her life so easily, as much as she wanted to distance herself for fear of losing him. He hadn't returned her messages, and no one had seen him for days. She ventured outside Silvermoon to Farstrider Retreat- where Venyas had mentioned his newfound order met. There she found members of the Sunguard, and asked if they knew where Venyas was. They exchanged glances, and broke the news.

Venyas was dead.

He had died in an Alliance assault on Silvermoon, they told her. She was crushed. She became angry with him- had hadn't told her. She could have protected him and prevented his death. She left to go home.

Baenhoof collapsed in her tent and expected to find Rodakar already asleep on his pallet. She found nothing. The signs became clear. Burn marks everywhere, broken pottery. The signs of a struggle. Baenhoof, stunned, found a scrap of parchment on the ground- an emblem burned into the paper. Its meaning was familiar to her.

The Twilight Hammer.

Panicked, angry with herself for having lost her mate a second time, she could do nothing else but go to her friends for help. Many laborious evenings pouring over texts, scrolls and thick dusty tomes, and they finally began to uncover some clues.

Baenhoof became almost maddened with grief and rage, her short fuse getting even worse. The bloodlust that had earned her her name began to show through more and more.

At a Stormrock Clan meeting in Thunder Bluff, Baenhoof met Mustadar Spiritwalker, a taunka deathknight who gifted her with flowers and a drawing. Baenhoof was disgusted. Not by the smell of the taunka, nor the glow of his eyes or the chill of his flesh- what kind of sissy idiot did he think her to be?! Flowers and a drawing...elf nonsense. But the taunka was persistent, and Baenhoof soon found a fast friend in Mustadar. Their relationship turned to love, then to lust.

Rodakar was still kidnapped.

She worked tirelessly to find and free him, endless raids on cultist camps for the slightest clue. Signs pointed to Arcatraz, a blood elf prison in the magic-infused wastes of Netherstorm.

Lonely and afraid, she turned to alcohol to ease the pain. And in doing so, uncovered a darker side of herself.

((To be continued!))

OOC
Taurahe is a SACRED language spoken only by tauren and CLOSE friends of tauren. If you know a few words, have an explanation for HOW you know them. If you have Tongues and are miraculously fluent, you better have a REALLY REALLY GOOD reason for knowing it.
 * Baen will RP duel, but I have no plans for perma-death for her. If you engage with the intent to kill, you will be disappointed. Sorry.
 * I do character sketch portraits for 1,000g OR ten bucks. See User:Baenhoof for a gallery link :3
 * No one bothers looking tauren crap up, so here you go, the official canon:
 * Game mechanics apply to RP. If your character is lv 20 and stealths, I'm sorry, but Baen can see you.
 * Nhuala, her birth name, is given on this page for the sake of transparency. To date, she has told two people this name. Tauren are born with one name- usually something like Khuta or Lahalo. Over the course of their lives, they earn more names. Tauren will usually only tell you one of these names, reserving more of them for shu'halo or VERY trusted friends.
 * All Baen's siblings exist ingame, and they are all played by me. Hurr.

Theme Song
Yes, they're lame. Plz to be dealing with it.

Seriously, its totally perfect. Watch it. thumb|400px|left thumb|400px|left