Rorik Dotharl

Rorik Dotharl

Ever heard of this tribe? No? That's probably for the best.

The Dotharl tribe were not singular though one fact holds true above all else. They were trained since childhood to fight and kill. There were few things that kept their values in the nomadic tribe other then the very act of taking another's life. Rorik was born into such tribe and even as a child he showed the thirst to fight that overshadowed those around him. He trained day in and day out honing his skill with his ax. As he grew to the age of war his life was filled with losses, his father a mere month after he was born was killed in their attack on the Hotgo tribe, his brothers and sisters were all killed while defending from another tribe's attack and were killed right in front of him at the age of 5, his beloved mother died the same day covering him from the invaders.

The first rite

Your first battle within the Dotharl tribe was your rite to adulthood one that every member had to take. If you see an adult Dotharl then the fact that they are alive shows their resilience and an unbreakable will to live thus fighting them should not be taken lightly. Rorik's first was what showed him the true colors of his world of crimson colored earth. The hate filled Xaela took up his ax upon their charge with the roar and began killing one tribesman after the next as if they were the ones who took his family from him. It was here where he found that beneath the anger he used to fuel him he enjoyed the act of fighting, of putting ones life on the line, and of testing his strength. There was another lesson learned that day. It was one learned in the blood of his friends and allies as they laid on the ground around him only fueling that overbearing rage of the Dotharl tribe.

Some say their anger was what drove them in battle, making them fierce, making them stronger, and making them the very epitome of what fighters could be. The fight lasted hours and Rorik spotted his tribes leader locked in battle with the defending tribe's. He began to take one out after another in order to make his way over to his leader to aid him seeing the wounds he suffered from. He let his eyes fall from him for a second when he was slammed into by a large Xaela warrior sending him flying into the blood soaked ground. When his gaze returned he saw the man who practically raised him, who taught him what it meant to be a warrior, to be a man, fall... His mind went numb as the Au Ra raged and let out a blood curdling roar.

The second in command tried to stop his charge but Rorik did something unconventional... his ax dropped the last second and his hand reached for the small dagger in his back holster.. For a Dotharl to drop their weapon in battle was almost never seen as it was an act of dishonoring their teachings. He wasn't a Dotharl warrior but the the very rage of an Au Ra and drove the dagger into his eye causing him to stagger back. Rorik reached for his ax and sliced the man's back open with a powerful stroke. "You dishonor your people...Dotharl." their tribes leader spoke but his words were met with the intense yellow glow from those raging umbral rings. "I see.. you will not be satisfyed unless you've taken your revenge.. I take it back, you embody a true Dotharl.. now come. I'll end you like I did your leader." Rorik charged the man and they exchanged blows. Axe vs axe as their swings clashed sending the loud sound of metal throughout the defending village as it begun to burn. The Dotharl's had begun to overtake and in fact the few who resided laid down their arms to save their lives leaving only their leader locked in a fierce battle with Rorik. None dared interrupt for they saw the look in his eyes and the gash that opened their once strong leader. This wasn't a simple fight man to man... Rorik was avenging their leader. Avenge he did as the more tired older Xaela made a single mistake and didn't fully swing down and loosened his grip. Rorik's axe crashed upward sending his weapon crashing into a near burning building. Out of breath the leader looked at Rorik "Do....it. There is nothing left for me.. you killed my people.. burned my land... just... end it."

"You fought well.." Rorik spoke and the mans eyes widened... Rorik was never taken over by rage.. He looked up to the intense hardened glare looking down on him and laughed. "You'll make a great leader." he said as Rorik's axe raised and he closed his eyes before his head was cut clean off. The other tribesman watched the entire battle and watched Rorik who started to command them out of instinct. "Take those who can still walk, they will either fight for our tribe, or they will work in the houses making our weaponry!" Rorik commanded. The war was meant to be a rite to being a man but forged in that battle came a leader instead. A leader who would bring his tribe to their highest point. But the higher the peak the steeper the fall. There are those in the world who despise another's success and Rorik had yet to learn exactly what that meant.

The thriving war tribe

Dotharl's were known for their high mortality rates due to their war set minds. Rorik's tribe was no different but there was an undeniable fact that his nearly tripled in size over the next few years. Numela, one of the woman of the tribe that was taken over by his the night he started to take his place as their leader, had fallen in love with Rorik. The two of them were nearly inseperable and when it came to leading she was just as harsh a leader as him, he loved her more then the gods could imagine. As time went on they continued to grow and Rorik became proud of the tribes progress and was often found just smiling as he overlooked his people. There was a force of multiple tribes in the making that were coming together to try and take his out. While in his hut Numela pulled him back in as he tried to leave. Lately she had been acting weird but he thought it was the stress of helping him lead the people.. he couldn't be further from the truth. "Rorik.. I wish to give you an heir to the tribe.." she whispered into his ear while she kept herself wrapped around him, nuzzling against his cheek lovingly, fingers curling around his bear chest. Rorik's eyes lit up.. she had been taking the tea leafs to keep herself from bearing a child knowing that a leader must focus on his tribe first... he was so happy. They needed to wait for the effects of the tea to go away before they could even attempt it and there was an impending war along the border of their territory. Rorik kissed her lovingly and pushed her back onto the bed.. they didn't need to wait for the tea leaves' affect to stop for them to show each other their love. The morning brought the grimmest news, the tribe had begun to invade their territory and Rorik commanded them once more to take their arms to drive out the enemy. He looked back to his beloved wife and smiled however. "When we this war is over we will have our child my love." he said softly then as he turned she could see the softness wane and that fierce man she fell in love with come out once again. Rorik took precautions of the preemptive attack and sent a messenger to a neighboring tribe who swore their loyalty to his in order to maintain their lands of farming. Rorik wasn't like most of the other Dotharl leaders.. he knew the value of allies and even though he enjoyed battle more then most he made every attempt to keep his losses to an absolute minimum.

The dagger of betrayal

He as usual lead the charge against the invaders and his forces were completely outnumbered but it didn't matter. A Dotharl worrier was worth nearly 5 normal Xaela fighters and.. he'd been working tirelessly making sure that every person that wanted to be in their tribe knew of the Dotharl way. The battle was long and arduous and for a moment it looks like they overcame the enemy forces and his eyes lit up at the sight. His call was answered by the neighboring tribe but that relief was crushed when they began to clash with his own.. It was a pincer move leaving his own in the middle. Rorik raged once more as he fought off the mixed forces. "Xur!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he roared when he saw him on the battlefield. "You coward! I should of wiped you out!" he shouted with a powerful stroke that sent the man flying back as he blocked. Magic began to fall across the battlefield from both sides of ice, fire, lightning, and earth. The leader of the invading tribe had come to the side of Xur as they both looked upon Rorik.

"You're nothing but a young ambitious leader who knows nothing of this land. Nobody will let a Dotharl tribe grow out of control without doing something about it. It's bad enough you guys litter this land with smaller tribes... yours threatens the very order of it. Though the man couldn't be further off.. the very fact that Rorik chose to keep his tribe alive showed it but now it was a mistake he'd never make again. He charged the two men and so began the fight for his own tribes survival. In the corners of his eyes he could see his men falling, his healers being run through, his mages being bombarded by theirs. There was no way they'd be able to win.. and the two men he was fighting were both extremely versed in their ways of fighting. Throughout the fight Xur landed a stab to his back a mere few centimeters away from his heart. Rorik dropped to the ground and was kicked through the mud. They thought they hit his heart but he laid there bleeding out as the battle went on and his vision blurred. That was it for him... he'd never see Numela again... their child.. gods he just wanted to see her again. The battle was over... his tribe was annihilated by the combined forces.

While he was on the brink of death he felt the warmth of magic bringing his body back from the edge and nearly fixed his wounds... it was one of the healers who'd barely been alive.. "Why didn't you heal yourself?" he said with a loud grunt as he tried to gather his strength enough to get up. "Leader....go...please... they went.............the village.." the man breathed out and Rorik felt his heart sink..."No... NO!" he shouted as he stood with his legs shaking from exhaustion and slowly made his way back using his ax as a support to keep him up. What he returned to.... plundered his very world into darkness. His tribe's home set aflame, bodies scattered throughout the village, and his wife bound and beheaded. "Numela..." he choked out staggering through the blood soaked pathways to the center of their village. Tears fell from the battle hardened warrior while he undid her bindings and let her body fall onto him. His arms clenched around her tightly as he cried.. There was nothing left. His village, his work he put so much into for all these years, but they took the most important thing from him.. The very thing that gave him light.

He spent the next few days burying every one of his people with his eyes glazed over with sadness and his heart locked up from the world. Her grave was littered with the white flowers she loved so much... he always made fun of her for liking such soft looking flowers while being such a fierce woman. While he kneel'd over her grave the tears fell again or what little he could produce as he said his final goodbyes to her. He spent the next few days hitchhiking his way to the nearest port... he didn't care what he had to do. His memories on that land had weighed him down completely and to anyone else who looked saw nothing but an utterly defeated man. It was a ship he snuck on that took him to Eorza to the small shipping yard of Aleport where his new life began.

From shore to shore

His new life quickly began after arriving at Aleport in La Noscea. A few odd jobs here and there the shell of a Xaela made a meger living and eventually saved up for his first suit of armor and weapon. The first time he held the axe it felt heavy almost as if it were too heavy for a man who literally had been born into war. Still though he found job after job from guarding a single merchant to being hired in groups to protect caravans. Funny isn't it? A man tailor made to take anothers life now spent his time protecting others. The true funny thing about it was that Rorik found some sort of peace within himself when fighting to protect instead of going for the kill. For nearly a year the Xaela earned a small reputation and went from a struggling fighter to finally being able to afford his way through life but this time it was with a more humble heart. He took his time with his travels around La Noscea finding solice in the solace in the silence and the sound of the crashing waves against the shoreline. The other difference was a need to keep himself distant from others. After all you can't be betrayed if you don't trust anyone right?

Eventually he found himself in the pits of Ul'Dah after protecting another convoy of merchants. Rorik didn't like the look of the city from afar. Some would consider the large structures and walls to be a symbol of power but he wrote them off as rich people toting their money that built a cesspool for the poor to squak over rags and bread. With the final paperwork finished at the Flames he took to the cobblestone main street of Ul'Dah to spend some of his earnings at the local tavern only to be stopped by a fellow and overzealous Xaela. The man screamed at him afar when he noticed Rorik wielding his axe going on about how a warrior should be willing to fight just about everywhere. That couldn't be the furthest from what Rorik thought he wanted and wished to shrug the probably drunk man off but he couldn't help but notice the look in that man's eyes. A fighter indeed and one not too willing to let another strong looking fighter pass him by without a good swing of his greatsword.

From shore to Yor

Oddly enough the one person to try to break the testerone filled air was a beautiful green eye'd and dark haired highlander female. She stood between the two demanding the other Xaela to calm himself and whispering to Rorik. "Just play along and pretend to be my guard." she said which drew out a curious gaze from him but to avoid making his already long day even longer he played along with her. It didn't work. The thick headed Xaela insulted the woman which was the last straw that had Rorik gently pushing her aside with his axe drawn. It seemed that the night spent drinking and relaxing would have to wait because the man irked Rorik with his insults. A flurry of axe, sword, stone, and roars echoed through the streets as the two Xaela men fought with the end having the thick headed one hunched over on his knees. Rorik held his axe in hand, dragging it along the cobble stone, and holding his hand over the deep gash in his arm which trickled blood out over his armor and onto the street. After demanding that the man apologize to his new ally of circumstance only to have her deny the man any right to do so Rorik finally introduced himself. The raven haired woman looked at his wound first and them himself before introducing herself as Eorla Shirica with a sigh. It was that abnormal meet in which Rorik Dotharl finally found someone he liked. She hired him to protect her on her travels around the continent for her work and the small kindling friendship turned into something Rorik thought he'd never find again. Someone that he could trust and love.

This page is a huge WIP

This page is a huge WIP