Full Name: Gorthag Bloodscar
Titles: "The Bloodthirsty"
Race: Orc
Sex: Male
Age: 25 in human years
Occupation: Warrior
Notable Features: Yellow Green skin, body covered with scars from past battles.
Description: Large and hulking, Gorthag stands above the heads of many orcs. He has a dangerous air about him, as if staring at him for too long would prompt him to separate your head form your body. His arms are thick and sinewy with muscle capable of hefting two giant axes permanently strapped on his back. Rarely seen out of his armor Gorthag's body is covered with scars.
Current Residence: Frostfire Ridge Garrison (under construction)
Family: None all dead.
Religion: None former Black Dragonflight worshipper
History: Gorthag Bloodscar was born among the Dragonmaw of Azeroth and raised to worship the Black Dragonflight's twisted notion of Deathwing's ideals. His mother raised him by herself, his father was never a part of his life. As Gorthag grew it became very apparent that he was born to shed blood, and the Dragonmaw used that. He was trained as a powerful warrior since he could first raise an axe. As the clan waged bloody war against the people of Azeroth, Gorthag was often at the forefront of the charge. He fought wildly, not caring about what injuries he sustained. In his mind death meant nothing but the inevitable end of his bloody career and all he could hope for was that it would be glorious.
As the years went on and the clans power began to fade after the death of Onyxia, Gorthag's mind began to fill with doubt. In his mind the great dragons should have been unkillable, the very power which he strove to attain. He spoke outwardly to the denunciation of the service to the black dragonflight but the elders would not hear him. His mother, now a high priestess, spoke against her son and recommended death by combat. Gorthag was thrown in a ring with no armor or weapons. He tore his foes apart with his bare hands bathing in their blood. No warrior they sent against him returned alive. As he stood there in the ring surrounded by all the clan soaked in the blood of their elite, he challenged them all to prove their worth. His mother entered the ring. Gorthag paused, he could not stand against the only person that cared for him, but he could not die a coward's death.
His mother held no quarter, she lashed at him with magic and he nimbly avoided the most deadly spells. He was a blur as he made his way up to his mother's throat and closed his hands around her neck. Gorthag pleaded with her but she would not live and disgrace her son even more. Tears were in her eyes as Gorthag choked the life out of her. He took her lifeless body in his arms and looked back at the crowd which had fallen deadly silent. He walked from the Dragonmaw encampment and buried his mother at the foot of the Blackrock mountains. He walked then, and kept walking until he was found by a passing Horde patrol. They took him to Durotar and nursed him back to health. It was there he met other orcs and learned of his people's heritage. He would continue his battle but this time his rage was pointed at the enemies of the Horde.