User:Vraul/Premo

"Sometimes people be tellin' ya wha' to do. If ye be willin' to live fah yaself, nevah listen to dem.  Dey be only willin' to hold ya down.  Even me own stubborn faddah had to understand dat eventually."

Premo is a Zandalari troll assassin and merchant who has allied with the Horde in recent times. In his early youth, he aspired to become an adventurer, traveling to lands away from the islands his people had claimed for so long after the Sundering. However, he was raised to have a distaste for any outsiders, and a particular hatred for non-Zandalar trolls was led to believe are devolved filth.

His early goal was eventually fulfilled when the Zandalari trolls joined the Horde, which encouraged some of their numbers to explore the unfamiliar continent now known as Kalimdor. Premo garners a living the only way he knows how: by fighting for it.

Youth
Born to an intelligent Witch Doctor for a mother and a brutal warrior for a father, Premo's life was destined to be filled with ridges and trials along his way to maturity. Growing up, Premo was often insulted by his father for his lack of ferocity. Premo dreamed of becoming a successful merchant, and he was deemed weak and stupid for doing so. His father would often try to birth another child in hopes of raising the perfect son, but to no avail. He would be granted no more offspring, as Zar's mother would perish in combat against the Blood trolls when Premo was still very young.

Although trolls often live harsher lives than most, having to fight tooth and nail for their own worth, such distinctive disowning by his own father, along with the death of his mother, caused Premo extreme anguish that he would carry on for the rest of his days. While physically frailer than the rest of his family's line, he was nimble and clever. He would often find it easy to pickpocket other trolls, and to navigate and hide within the jungles of Zuldazar was especially simple to him.

Eye of Da Tigah
As he grew into young adulthood, Premo decided to give in to his father's wishes, and he trained to become a fierce fighter for his people. Unfortunately for him, his physical frailness still couldn't meet up with his father's standards. Premo couldn't carry a large blade or axe, nor could his body withstand the harsh, heavy metals required of a warrior. After months of trying and failing to mold his son into a formidable warrior for his people, Premo's father officially disowned Premo and cast him out of the tribe in a permanent exile. Unable to comprehend his father's actions, Premo stormed off into the wild, expecting himself to be knocking on death's door within the week.

Trailing off into nowhere, Premo was forced to fend for himself in order to survive. The beasts within the islands only grew fiercer and more intimidating as he walked deeper into the jungle. Instead of tacking the animals head on like his father would, Premo had an instinctive ability to crawl around and avoid detection, even by the most fearsome of predators. For what seemed to be an eternity, he would tiptoe his bare feet over countless sharp rocks, through itchy grass, and onto many disgusting, oozy insects until he had the perfect angle to strike his prey.



One night, as the sun disappeared over the horizon and the wind became fiercer, Premo came onto what seemed to be a hut made of sticks and leaves.

Drawing closer, Premo prepared for the worst as he had heard of grim tales of the deadly murlocs taking members of his tribe and dragging them out into the sea, never to be seen again. His heart thumped and his head ached as sweat seeped through his body. Peeking through tall grass, he could see little but an old troll, adorned with trinkets but clothed in a most raggedy attire. The mysterious robed troll, ever wise, spoke out, "Ay, there, young fighter. Don't be shy of ol' Jam'baji, I won't be hurtin' ya."  At that instant, Premo questioned the elderly Jam'baji as to how he had detected him, and the elderly troll pointed to his totems. The old troll proclaimed, "Indeed, ye have a cunning skill about ya, but ol' Jam'baji ain't standin' around unprotected. I be seein' all dat comes around here, don't ya worry."

Da Old Man and Da Young Rogue
Accepting the young Premo into his hut was risky, but Jam'baji was no fool. He was willing to take the risk in the belief that Premo was a child born with a good heart. However, life along with the elderly troll wasn't free: Premo was of course expected to earn his own keep. Jam'baji, though slowed by the sands of time, still had enough energy left in the tank to show Premo how to hunt and kill animals and take what was needed. He also showed the aspiring youth that just before taking such earnings, it was expected to thank the beast for such good offerings and wish them the best in the afterlife.

For many weeks, Premo gathered many pelts and meat from the beasts of the wild, while old Jam'baji told him stories of his visions. Many visions spoke of blue-clad men carrying a blood-stained banner around, with the sieging of the Zandalari home following. He told Premo of how he had often shared these visions with the other trolls, but most of them had disregarded his visions as miscommunication with the spirits. Still, Premo enjoyed the stories, as they allowed his imagination to soar beyond the harsh upbringing he had endured. Unfortunately, such paradise was not meant to last.

Visions Come True
On a particularly rainy day, Premo and Jam'baji were woken to terrible screams from a dreadful Blood Witch. As her echoing voice spread throughout the island, Premo and the old troll could hear footsteps crowding in nearby. Afraid and confused, Premo was pointed away by Jam'baji after hearing a heartfelt farewell speech:

"Young Premo, the day has come where ya be flyin' off da nest. I been too kind to ya and now da harsh spirits be comin' for us both.  But don't ya be worryin' a tin', dere is a green one that can help ye.  Take me totem and head southward 'til ye can find him.  Go, now, or you'll never make it in time!  Go and claim ya fate, young one!"



With tears in his eyes, Premo took off and heeded the old troll's message. Treading through the slushy land nearly overtaken by the saltwater of the seas, Premo made it just in the nick of time to the docks. Floating next to it was a large, fortified ship carrying a red banner, and it was just about to take off to gather more soldiers. Premo asked to be allowed boarding off of the island, and he just barely fit in with other like-minded trolls. Also onboard the same vessel was Premo's father, whom he hadn't seen in over a month.

Throughout the travel to Durotar, father and son had barely made eye contact. While his father conversed heavily with the other trolls, Premo did his work and gazed deeply at the waters in awe until the great city of Orgrimmar had manifested into his vision.