Kenjin

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About Kenjin

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  • Birthday 04/04/1983

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  1. Kenjin

    A Druid's Regrets

    The druid of the claw coughs blood up onto my gloves. Her purple skin fades to a dull blue, much closer to mine than any of her race. As I look up and around the fields of Lordaeron I see them...us...dying everywhere. I am Kenjin. A Zandali Troll. A part of the Horde. A member of Sanctuary. That means a lot to me. More importantly, I am a Druid. I have sworn to help who I can and heal any who need it. My true loyalty is to life and nature. I will keep any I can alive. I’ve spent years working with Druids of every race to ensure there is balance in the world. As I hold the night elf, dying, in my arms, I try to figure out how we let it get this far. I feel as if we, the druids, have failed. There has always been a common bond between us, no matter our race or faction. We serve nature. When the “Warchief” struck down Malfurion I was torn. I was furious. He was a symbol of Druidry, not just alliance Druidry, but for all of us. The elf coughs, sputters, and dies in my arms. My healing arts can’t overcome the massive blood loss. I say a blessing as I lay her down to rest on the field of battle, searching for someone I can save. There is a small troll boy, maybe sixteen, but he looks much younger. I run over and begin healing him, hoping I can do something in the face of this stupidity. I look down at his face. ~~~~~~~ The night elf girl looks up at me, confused and hurt. I helped her shift out of her bearform, but that may not have been a good idea. The weapons stuck in her hide that were an inconvenience as a bear are debilitating as an elf. As she looks up at me, I begin a rejuvenation on her. The pain on her face eases and she lets her head relax to the side. That is a mistake. She sees the tree. I’ve been avoiding looking at it. I can’t stand the shame. The feeling of failure. The betrayal of everything I’ve ever stood for. The little elf sees it and collapses. Her wails rip my heart apart. I can’t meet her eyes, right up until the moment her cries die out, and her body goes slack. ~~~~~~~ I lower the troll to the ground, lift my mask and brush the tears off my face. There are more dead or injured here than I could help in a lifetime. That doesn’t mean I should stop. I drop my bear mask back in place and run to the next downed person. A dwarf this time. I start again. ~~~~~~~ I’ve saved a few, most have died. I’m exhausted. I can’t stop now, there are too many that still need help. The fields of Lordaeron are covered with the dead and wounded of both sides. At this point I’m reluctant to consider myself a part of the Horde. As I bend over a human, trying to return her to life, I think back to the druids I have gotten to know since the legion war began. We had, if not peace, then at least a solid understanding between druids of all races. Under Malfurion’s eye we had a community that worked for the betterment of the world. The girl coughs and her eyes open. There is at least one more saved. The gates of Undercity open and a team of Forsaken emerge. They have green, glowing tanks on their backs. I pick up the human girl, looking for someone to hand her off to before I find out what the Forsaken are here to do. As I’m walking toward a group of dwarves I begin to cough. A green fog floats around me. My head goes light and I wonder how we ended up on the ground. My last thought is of a burning tree.
  2. Kenjin

    Arboreal Musings

    What a busy week. I have relocated from the Guild Hall in Orgrimmar to the Sanctuary Garrison on this side of the red portal. We’re in Outland, except it’s not. The land here feels so much more alive than the desiccated husk that is the Outland I’m used to. I dread visiting Shattrath for just that reason. When I’m there I feel like a weight is crushing me down into the stone beneath the dirt. In this land, which I’ve learned is also Draenor, I can feel what Outland could have been, had the planet not been rent asunder. The energy of the world is not unlike Azeroth. It’s full of life and wonder. I’ve seen more battle than I would like since coming through the portal. This iron horde is worse than the worst of the goblin engineers. They insist on ravaging and polluting their world. I’ve yet to spend a good amount of time as a tree in this new land enjoying what it has to offer. I have, however, been scouting out locations for a nice, relaxing sit. Once I get my field hospital up and running I will make the time to enjoy this world. Speaking, or writing, of which. I spoke with Julilee about my ideas for a Sanctuary Field Hospital and have her blessings to use a patch of land in the Sanctuary Garrison for the venture. If all the supplies can be put together, I hope to have it up and running within two weeks. We have a good number of talented healers in the Guild, and having proper facilities can only decrease downtime due to injury. We need this, especially now with the growing numbers of Sanctuary and the associated followers and hangers on.
  3. Kenjin

    Not New but New To Most

    Welcome back. The game has indeed changed a great deal, but it has mostly been for the better. Enjoy rediscovering the world.
  4. Kenjin

    Arboreal Musings

    Today was not a good day. It’s a shame. It started off so well. I accompanied my friend Somer and her adorable turtle Steve into Alterac Valley to help out the Frostwolf Clan. I spent much productive time healing the wounded and ensuring that none succumed to their wounds. Many were spared today that otherwise would have perished. After we accomplished our mission, Somer and I parted ways, and I traveled to the Serpent Shrine, where I might relax in the open space and listen to the tales of the warriors maintaining their equipment. Alas, my plan for the rest of the day never came to fruition. As I arrived at the Serpent Shrine I saw a wasteland of bodies. Dozens upon dozens, left laying out in the sun to rot. I did what I could to return the bodies to the ground, but the evil ones who perpetrated this massacre returned. I managed to find a pot to hide in and was overlooked as a mere tree, but what I saw still chills me to this moment. The destruction they felt necessary to bring upon people sitting, talking and repairing their gear, essentially helpless, unequipped people, defies logic. I made note of their tabard, a gold arcane eye, with decorative markings above and below, on a blue field with rust colored trim, before I was discovered and driven away. After consulting the guild register, I discovered they were members of the Army of the Blue Wizard. As I sit in the hot spring at the Tavern in the Mists I wish there were more I could personally do to help stop these monsters. I don’t know who this Blue Wizard is, but stopping him seems to be a worthwhile goal. I will recount the details of my experience to my friend Mister Nojinbu in a letter, so he may pursue the matter at his leisure. In the mean time I shall make inquiries and discover what I can about this wizard. Perhaps Stranglethorn Exports can find out what we need to know.
  5. Kenjin

    Arboreal Musings

    An interesting thing happened today. As I was soaking my roots in the waterside soil on the Timeless Isle I saw a most peculiar occurrence. One of those interesting little gnomish folk was set upon by a troll. This in itself is regrettably not all that surprising. What I didn’t expect was that the troll would then turn his blades on an orc. Clearly this troll has mental issues. I have recorded in ink the likeness of the troll’s face and tabard to give to my friend Nojinbu later, as he is much more capable of investigating this incident and deciding what is to be done about it. I did what I could to nourish and heal the fallen orc, but the damage was too severe and he once again joined the earth. That was regrettable. In lighter news, these frogs lend a beautiful sound to the waves crashing against the rocks. I believe I will observe them more.
  6. Kenjin

    The NEW TNG Master Invite List

    Kimiji - Horde Kenjin - horde Somer -horde
  7. Kenjin

    Arboreal Musings

    Most people never give a thought to what a tree must be feeling. Trees are just there, a part of the landscape. Why would anyone give them any thought? People don’t realize how much life is involved in being a tree. My name is Kenjin. I am a druid. Through study and training I have learned to take many forms. I’ve run with the stags in the Moonglade. I’ve slipped through the water with the seals in Booty Bay. I’ve hunted as a cat on the Barrens and know the secrets of the Bears. I’ve soared through the sky with Wyverns and Griffons. I’ve experienced more aspects of life than most beings could ever hope for. I am a Druid, and I love life in all its aspects, but mostly, I love being a tree. Today I planted myself by the riverside near Farstrider Retreat. As I sat, toes sunk deep into the earth, feeling my roots soak up nutrients from the rich earth beneath me, I saw two elves walking hand in hand. They leaned up against my trunk and spent several minutes talking of life and current events. I pay little attention. I heard them as a dull murmur in the background, focusing instead on the sound of the wind through my leaves. After they wandered off, I let myself enjoy the sun pouring down onto my leaves, feeding and restoring me with every second. A squirrel tries to gnaw on my branches, but a gentle shake sends him scurrying away. Life is good. If only people would stop banging those swords around. The sound would be so much nicer without them.