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About Fhenrir

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  1. Your Character Chart

    "Prideful" is more like "elitist" for Zuffid, and I couldn't work in Fhen's significant anger issues (because none of the others really deal with anger). It's an excellent thought exercise to see how your characters compare and contrast.
  2. A Story About A Cow

    Fhenrir stood near the entrance to his outpost in Draenor, arms folded. The heavy plate armor over his thick Taurahe fur kept him well insulated, but he was still close to shaking. Not from the cold, but from sheer frustration. "No." Standing on the path just outside the gates was a herd of cattle. Run of the mill cows, the sort native to Elwynn and the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms. The cows had already been parked on the path for over an hour, and they seemed to arrive just as a shipment of resources was due to leave on that very same pathway. In the center of the herd was a lone orc with the features of an old man, but the energy of a young buck. A young buck that had frequently tried to seduce Fhenrir's wife back in the day. Jobolg wore the same grin Fhenrir had unfortunately come to know very well over the last decade. "Come on, Fhen. I wouldn't approach you about if it wasn't important!" "Yes, you would." "Okay, maybe, but listen. This really is important. Like, really important. Just take a chance and trust me on this. What do you have to lose?" "A lot." "Noooooo. Who's even paying attention to this Draenor anymore? The princess has left for another castle. The ships have sailed. The armies have moved on." "Not all of them." Fhenrir still took regular duty as a tactical officer on the planet, and helped hold positions against the Alliance. Both forces maintained fairly regular excursions to take advantage of the planet's ample resources. "A lot of them! There are demons everywhere on Azeroth! So this is the perfect chance to sneak in to Draenor and- err, totally innocently examine the effects of Azerothian life forms entering the ecosystem." "Let me be clear: No." "Come oooooooooon. The Horde has a lot to gain from this!" "Such as?" Jobolg paused a moment. "Unlimited supplies of meat?" Fhenrir was hesitant; that sounded too good to be true. But if there was even a chance, he'd be remiss to ignore the opportunity. "How so?" "These cows are clones!" Fhenrir took closer stock of the cattle. Sure enough, every cow had the same spotted pattern as the cow next to it. One patch of black over the left eye, and mixed black and white across the torso. "And you can produce them... indefinitely." "Absolutely!" Jobolg coughed after that, in such a way that he was probably mumbling some clause under his breath that Fhenrir couldn't quite decipher. "And you'll only do this if I help." "Your words, my friend!" Jobolg clapped him on the shoulder. "Your words." "And you'll move this herd so my supplies can be delivered." Jobolg grinned wide and devious. "So you'll do it?" Fhenrir wasn't sure how he always ended up agreeing to help Jobolg in his schemes. Every logical part of Fhenrir's brain told him he should hate Jobolg's guts, but there was something to Jobolg's charm that always won over some small part of Fhenrir. A small part that always got Fhenrir in trouble. ~ So Jobolg, Fhenrir, a squad of Fhenrir's Garrison troops, and a herd of cloned cattle began a trek through Draenor. "What's the destination?" Fhenrir asked. Again. "You'll see, you'll see!" Jobolg was positively thrilled. Fhenrir was not. "Jobolg..." "Trust me!" "Why would I ever do that?" Fhenrir grinned, the remark meant as a tongue-in-cheek jab. Though both knew there was truth in the statement, it didn't bother either of them. Jobolg offered a friendly laugh. ~ "Why would I ever do that?" Fhenrir asked again, this time with no smile. The caravan had come to a ledge overlooking Shadowmoon Valley. From a suspicious engineering bag that held far more material than anything its size rightly could, Jobolg had produced and assembled a mechanical cannon on the edge of the cliff, with a cow-shaped hole on the back just large enough to load the cattle into one at a time. "Fhen, this is critical. How else will I find out how these cows react to being introduced to Draenor?" "I'm not a biologist, but-" "Exactly, Fhen, you're not! But I AM a scientist! It's got "ist" on the end! Are you anything with "ist" on the end?" Fhenrir paused. "I don't think so?" "I don't think so, either! So help me shove this cow into the Cowapult!" Jobolg has already started shoving one of the cattle toward his machine. "I'm not shoving a cow into anything." Before Jobolg could protest further, one of Fhenrir's troops interrupted with a terrified scream. "ALLIANCE!" A team of troops descended upon the caravan. It was instant chaos. Blades clashed and the cows scattered. Fhenrir leapt into battle and immediately cleft some unfortunate gnome in two, then whirled himself toward a crowd of Alliance. They scattered in fear, but Fhenrir got a sinking feeling he and his troops were on the wrong side of this fight. One of the soldiers he smashed was carrying a pitchfork, and that brought Fhenrir to a halt. He leapt to the edge of the cliff and looked into Shadowmoon carefully. There, between a small crop of trees, was an Alliance farming outpost. With Jobolg's Cowapult aimed at it. "Jobolg!" Fhenrir shouted. "What?" Jobolg had just launched a volley of imps at some poor farmer. It was clear Fhenrir's caravan would take this fight; there didn't appear to be any Horde casualties. But even so, Fhenrir was enraged. "You're launching cows at a VILLAGE?" Fhenrir was fine with battling the Alliance, but these looked like civilians. And the plan was to fire cows at said civilians. "Fhen." Jobolg smiled. "I'm introducing them to Draenor's ecosystem." Fhenrir took a step forward to bash Jobolg's head in, but his attention was pulled to a stray cow wandering a little too close to the Cowapult. The machine reached out and enveloped the cow; it barely had time to moo before being sucked into the machine. "DAMN IT!" Fhenrir shouted. Jobolg grinned. "Fire in the hole!" He pressed a button on his belt. The Cowapult fired. Fhenrir ground his hooves into the ground, and leapt into the air over the cliff. He'd trained for years to leap directly onto his targets, to leap onto enemies, to leap from one airborne beast to another. But never was he aiming for an airborne cow. Still, Fhenrir collided with and caught the terrified animal midflight. They hurdled toward the village, but Fhenrir refused to become a tauren cannonball now. Just before they hit, Fhenrir mustered his energy and leapt again. With the cow in his arms, Fhenrir smashed into the dirt just outside the town. Fhenrir and the cow left a huge crater, and certainly drew the attention of every farmer in the village. "Fhen..." Jobolg's voice crackled over a small engineering device he'd glued to Fhenrir's belt. "I must admit, that was pretty cool." Fhenrir's back was buried into the dirt and the cow was resting on top of him. The beast had no interest in moving, especially as humans from the village, armed with torches and pitchforks, surrounded Fhenrir and his new crater. Fhenrir thought carefully about his next move, but that's when he looked at the cow and noticed something odd; the black spot was over its right eye. "Jobolg. Why does this cow look different?" "Oh, that! It turns out stealing cows and casting an illusion over them is a lot easier than actually cloning an army of them. Cloning cows would be immensely difficult and really not worth it at all." "So..." "Thanks for helping me get these little guys here!" Jobolg's voice crackled over the device one last time. "Fire in the hole!" The humans surrounding Fhenrir scattered as the Cowapult fired from the cliffs above. One by one, cows being used as ammunition rained down upon the poor farming village and people fled for their lives. Fhenrir sighed deeply, still pinned under the one cow he'd managed to save. The cow stupidly looked into Fhenrir's eyes, completely oblivious of what he'd just done for it, and lazily licked Fhenrir on the snout. The End.
  3. Greetings old friend!

    1. Fhenrir


      Hey, Grim! Good to hear from you! Hope you're doing well.

    2. Grimfury


      So far so good, i have gotten Grimfury up to almost level 86 and i levelled a worgen up to level 12 last night.  It's been a lot of fun experiencing all of the content i missed.


  4. Haha you're neutral too. A step up from hated!



  6. How/Why You Choose Your Characters Name?

    Fhenrir: I liked the name of the Final Fantasy summon. Fenrir was taken, so I added an H. Zuffid: Came up with the name a long time ago, forgot about it for years, then remembered it around the time I rolled a belf paladin (for the explicit purpose of being really annoying in PvP). Makul: Named after a barbarian from D&D that I had named "Makulishtenalla" because I thought it sounded neat. As far as I know, it doesn't mean anything (or fit into the name generator!) Foozle: Goblin wizard. Reference to wizards that I think predates my existence. Leon: He's an undead hunter. Yup. Coward: Originally would have been a tauren paladin, but I already had a tauren paladin. Now he's a monk because that's what I was leveling at the time. Ow: I'm just showing off that I have silly names now. He's a Pandaren because it kind of works. Scorpion: Get over here!
  7. <p>


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    <p>D R E A M</p>

  8. <p>All good! Things are well - would be fun to catch up sometime soon. <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin.png" alt=":D" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>

  9. <p>Eeeee, the dad-ening! Sorry I missed your message yesterday, but I hope everything is going wonderfully in that respect!</p>

  10. The Clickening

    Fhenrir Phoenix Upon selection: "Lieutenant General Fhenrir Phoenix, at your service." Click: "Orders?" "Ready." "Ready for orders." "Say the word." "Where am I needed?" Excessive clicking: "Uh, Lok'tar?" "We need to move." "You're wasting time." "You're not Xara, back off." "I need more rage!" "Not enough rage!" *sigh* "Moo. Are you happy now?" Ordered to move: "Got it." "Understood." "Let's move." "On my way." "For the Horde." Ordered to attack: "Charge!" "For the Horde!" "For the Horde." "Out of my way!" "For Kalimdor!" Taunt: Fhenrir plants his sword in the dirt, speaks, then draws it once more. "Surrender. We've seen who the greater warrior is." "The might of the Horde is unstoppable." "Our time is now. Press the advantage." Joke: Fhenrir crosses his arms over his chest, then covers his face with one palm. He speaks behind his hand. "No, I'm not protection, and I won't carry the flag. Stop asking." "This was a lot easier with a healer glued to my backside." "How does the rotation go again? Mortal strike, whirlwind... rend? Or overpower?" (resigned) "Let's get... mooooooving." *sigh* Death: Fhenrir takes one last swing with his weapon, then collapses to the ground face first. Rebirth: "Not my time yet." "There's too much riding on this one." "I need to be here; for my family. And for the Horde."
  11. <p>The Dadrir-ening is almost upon us! Due date is a month away now!</p>


  12. <p>ermagerd <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333</p>

  13. <p>You're bad and you should feel bad.</p>

  14. <p>Moo2u2, Dadrir. Fatherigo. You get what I'm driving at.</p>