Ares

Ares was a part of the Twilight's Hammer Cultists as a young child and raised by a Night Elf Captain until the age of 13. After training with the Troll Vi'ji, Ares has set off to join the Horde and conquer the demons of his past.

His journal can be found here[1].

## Social

### Immediate Family

Father - Twilight Lord KelrisMother - Deceased

## History

### The Twilight’s Hammer Cultists (Year 10)

The skin on Cho’gall’s chest peeled back where he had been
sliced open by the sons of Blackhand, Rend and Maim. The gash revealed muscle and blood as the two heads of the ogre argued with one another about a plan of escape.

Memories from when he was that young are hard to come by, but
the image of the thing responsible for corrupting his parents would forever stain
his mind. That would be the only detail of Cho’gall Ares could remember, but it
was the proof he needed.

Ares was a child born into the Twilight’s Hammer Clan. His
parents were manipulated by Cho’gall, the clan’s chieftain. They delved into the
void energies that would eventually lead to their complete subjugation to
Cho’gall’s will. Ares had been forced to attend sacrifices and ceremonies the
cult held to appease the dark entities that guided them. He had been groomed for training with void magic but had been too young to start. Their
prophecies had already been tattooed across his body.

When Cho’gall and the Twilight Hammer cultists followed Gul’dan to the Tomb of Sargeras. The sons of Blackhand attacked Cho’gall and the cult, forcing their retreat to Kalimdor. Lord Kelris was commanded to take
a small group of cultists into Ashenvale and follow the whispers that had been calling
to the cultists and Cho’gall. Meanwhile, Cho’gall would head south towards Tanaris.

The cultists found
themselves on Zoram Stand at the ruins of a partially submerged temple that
once served Elune. The passageway had collapsed but the whispers unmistakably
came from within. As the cultists attempted to clear the path, a group of Night
Elf rangers attacked. Ares was pushed away and told to stay hidden by his
mother. Defiantly, the young Ares started to push forward when his mother’s succubus
appeared in front of him.

The succubus’ slender fingers ushered his eyes to gaze into
hers. Before he could think to look away, everything except the face of the
succubus faded. Her pale blue eyes entranced him in a way he had never felt
before nor could he understand in that moment. Time seemed to go on forever as
he fell in love.

After what felt like an eternity, he was snapped back into
the world around him. Chaos was everywhere, succubus nowhere in sight, the cart
he had traveled in since arriving on Kalimdor laid scattered in pieces. On the
ground partially covered in debris, his mother was dead under a violet and now dark
red cloak. A wound from a slash of a sword could be seen across her back.

Ares looked around for his father, but he was nowhere to be
found. The passageway the cultists had been clearing now had enough space for
someone to pass through. Remembering the whispers and terrible dreams, seeing
his mother’s bloody corpse beside him, being abandoned by the cultists and his
father. Ares had no intention of following them into that temple.

Anger filled the young Ares. Angry at the cultists. At the
Night Elves. At Cho’gall causing all of this. Ares vowed to never follow their
path. Never allow the corruption of magic to control him.

“Dorei, Dorei” yelled out a ranger. A Night Elf ranger
spotted Ares. Looking around, Ares could not see where the noise had come from.
The Night Elf Captain Cydaan Moonshade stepped out from the nearby foliage. Ares
was astonished that the elf was seemingly able to do this without displacing a
single leaf.

The captain smirked “Iszera duna bantallas” as he called out
behind him. He had no weapon drawn and did not take the small Orc to be a
threat. Ares, filled with anger, lunged towards Cydaan. Caught off guard by the
sudden threat, Cydaan barely dodged out of the way before the young orc could
land a wild swing.

The captain let loose a surprised “Ah ha!” as he took a step
back and reevaluated Ares. He was intrigued by the Orc and not just because he
had never seen one in person. That being apart from the few cultists he had slain
moments ago.

Cydaan would go on to keep Ares in Maestra’s Post outside of
Astranaar. Over the next few years they insisted that Ares was a guest in the
tower, but he always knew he would not be allowed to leave, even if he did have
somewhere to go.

During his time at the post Ares did not grow any fonder of
the Night Elves. The elves had given him a warm place to stay when he had
nowhere else to go. Yet, in the back of his mind he knew they were the ones
that cut down his mother. An unforgivable act.

Cydaan had been forbidden to teach Ares their language of
Darnassian but that wouldn’t stop him from teaching Ares other things. How to
live as part of the forest. How to scout through the trees. How catch, clean,
and cook fish. The captain also tried teaching discipline, but Ares proved too
ornery for that.

Ares was still never at home in Maestra’s Post. When the third war began, Cydaan
no longer had time to teach Ares and as the days stretched Ares grew restless.
That was when Ares overheard a conversation that was not intended to be
overheard, especially by him. Orcs had invaded Ashenvale and were cutting down the trees.

Orcs. In Ashenvale.

Ares was beside himself. Under the cover of darkness, Ares
would leave the Night Elves set out to find these Orcs.

### For the Horde (Year 21)

Considered an orphan and no one believing where he had been
living for the last few years, Ares earned the reputation in Splintertree Post as
being quite peculiar. Most Orcs his age despised chores. Feeding the boars,
collecting the various missing tools Stone Guard Drakaro seemed to misplace
daily. Ares was always the first one to complete his chores and as soon as he
completed the last one, he would grab his axe and leathers and head for Master
Vi’ji’s hut in the secluded hills towards the boarder of the Barrens and
Ashenvale.

Master Vi’ji was an expert weaponsmith and the occasional
campfire story would be told about how he was one of the first Trolls to join
the new Horde. Vi’ji had been sent to keep a quiet eye on Grommash Hellscream’s
developments in Ashenvale.  The troll was
typically known to not enjoy the company of others and was not shy to say so if
someone was bothering him.

Splintertree Post is where Vi’ji would first see Ares. As
customary, a few of the orc children would regularly test each other in the
streets as a sort of feat of strength. These so-called tests would occur
whenever the opportunity arose, and the adults weren’t paying them any
attention. A group would typically surprise attack whomever the unlucky target was
that evening, taking turns swinging with brooms, throwing rocks, kicking, or finding
whatever other makeshift weapons they could quickly dispose of if an adult came
near.

This day the group had Ares in their cross hairs. He had
noticed their following of him, two kids splitting off around a building to
surround him. He had seen this before. Acting as if he had not taken notice,
Ares put down the crates he had been carrying. A smile streaked across his face
as he subtly reached for the rake close to him.

What happened next is what made Vi’ji take notice. In a
whirlwind of blood, screams, and dirt, the children attacked Ares. Ares had
positioned himself, so his back was towards a wall, not allowing the other
children to flank him. As Olka attacked first, Ares kicked him back into Cald
and Gohlekk who were pursuing quickly behind. He turned his rake sideways and
charged towards the children, knocking all three to the ground and pinning them
with the rake. At that moment Shajun, a small troll girl with remarkably great
aim hurled a rock from across the street. Thunk! The rock hit Ares square in
the top of the head. Ares paused for a second and looked up to see Shajun. Ares
eye’s, already a piercing red, seemed to explode with fire and furor. He took
the rake, pointy end forward, and flung himself towards Shajun who had quickly
found herself in the way a considerable amount of harm.

It was at that moment, Master Vi’ji stuck out his axe,
quickly parrying Ares’ attack.

Ares had always spent more combat training than the other children.
There was an unquenchable rage that filled him and often when the children
would end their training for the day, Ares would keep practicing by himself.

When Vi’ji first parried the attack, Ares was caught off
guard. Now Master Vi’ji had his full attention. The other children quickly
backed off, as they knew that a child attacking an adult had severe
consequences. Ares paid no mind. He didn’t know who Vi’ji was, that he was a
master weaponsmith, or even that a few of the other adults in the camp had
heard the commotion and were now watching. There, the young Orc holding a rake,
made attack after attack against the veteran troll. Vi’ji easily dodged the
attack and Ares quickly pressed the attack again. Faster swings, more power,
less control. Ares’ rage overwhelmed him like never before.

Swing. Sidestep. Swing. Block. Swing. Parry. Nothing could
get through.

Eventually, old Brugg Bonelash called a stop to the ordeal.
Ares, caught up in the frenzy, quickly realized the trouble that laid before
him. An act like this could push back his training for weeks if not longer.

Master Vi’ji spoke to Brugg privately. Since Ares had attacked
Vi’ji, Vi’ji held the right to pick his punishment. He decided, that for the
foreseeable future, Ares would have to go to his hut after his normal chores
and work for him the rest of the day. While most thought that Ares would spend
hours completing additional chores, Vi’ji had other plans.