Anji

This is the Wikipage dedicated to my troll Anji, better known and ICly known as Kiharu, Zitajie, Shi'ki and a slew of nicknames and other different titles she's gained through the years. Come here if you want to take a look at her recent exploits and the like.

Generally this is going to be a continual WIP, art if any is posted is not to be used anywhere else, as it is of my character.

Currently, Anji aka. Kiharu is a Beast Mastery Hunter, whom seems to have a great affection to the large devilsaurs inhabiting the isle of giants.

Appearance
At first glance, if one were to see the increasingly reclusive trolless around they'd see one thing that stands out about her: the scars. They litter her body as commonly as the tattoos that cover nearly every inch of skin she has. Upon her face a myriad of imperfections sit, and yet she takes secret pride in each one, reminders that she is a survivor and she will keep surviving. But they also betray a story of a woman who's lived and seen an incalculable amount of bloodshed, and likely has taken more lives than she cares to count. Looking her eye to eye you'd see the mask she wears, one that morphs slowly with the changing times and tides. At one point she was a naive, young brawler who's name; her true name rang through the jungles of Stranglethorn Vale, a name cheered by the Berserkers whom enjoyed watching her fight, and scorned by the families she tore apart in the arena.

Her stature has changed and morphed with time too, having grown fully to her seven foot, eleven inch height Kiharu has filled out to be a nicely endowed woman. Tightly corded muscle twists and turns its way over her form, hinting she's kept herself in peak shape even though she seems to be a simple Darkspear civilian now. However, those whom are observant would note she towers over any of the Jungle trolls that are Darkspear. In fact, those who are familiar with the different physical differences between troll tribes would note immediately she shows tell-tale signs of Drakkari heritage, even if she outright denies it to most who inquire.

Her body is shaped and formed for battle, and slowly changing to be formed for a new sort of combat. Slowly her muscles have been trained to handle the shock and blunt force trauma that will likely come of her as a brawler in her troll form. But beyond that if one saw her arms revealed, you'd note the musculature on her arms and shoulders have been further strengthened as if being trained to carry and hold the weight of a heavy weapon, or bow. If you guessed she was going to use a bow you'd be right. On her back, would be a troll-crafted bow made for her by an old friend. It looks heavy made from sturdy but flexible materials. One may at times see a quiver one her back, usually hidden from view or she might not be wearing it at all.

She walks with a limp, a terrible one. Her left leg seems to be completely unable to move without causing her excruciating pain. A weakness she ignores, or does her best to ignore. She can't afford someone looking at her as though she was nothing; or weak. You'd notice the scaring only continued, and if she was caught wearing garb that exposed her abdomen you'd see something that'd shock most people. Evidence of torture, evidence of days, perhaps weeks spent at the hand of a vengeful witch doctor. A deep, ropy horizontal scar stretches across her abdomen just under her rib cage, then at the mid-point of that Horizontal scar, there is a vertical one, just as deep and as ugly as the last, and connecting once more a horizontal scar that spans the length of her hips. The three scars form an " I " shape on her body, one of the hardest things to miss on her form.

Generally speaking her garb is simple. Robes, for casual times and her mail combat armor for those times she needs to fight. Also tending to be seen with her is a devilsaur... sometimes an entire clutch of them that took to the trolless faster than they did the Zandalari trainers from which she stole the knowledge to train such beasts. No worries, she makes sure they won't bite anything she doesn't tell them to.

Personality
Her persona shifts with the people she is around, or those who are observing. She's never true with anyone, not even her blood kin. Not even with herself. Like a spider she's developed a web of lies and truths to hide what she is within, and what she wishes for. Not even the closest friends of hers will truly understand what motivates her, even those who've gotten a glance into her history would truly know. Perhaps it's because she doesn't know who she is, or what drives her.. herself. But there are a few constants you'd likely see when first meeting her. She wears the ghost of a smile on her face like she wears her robes. It's habitual, nothing true about it, nothing false about it. It's simply there, and it hides her moods well. Upon first meeting her, you'd see she's generally polite, unless of course you had done something to hurt those she values.

Nods, smiles, nothing too fancy upon meeting her the first time. Though she has an odd fascination with things she cannot read like a book. People who cannot be read or simply hide themselves well enough to avoid such, they fascinate her like a light does a moth. Innately drawn to such, you'd find her to be a very curious woman if you saw her with her initial barriers down, unafraid to ask questions but still usually polite enough to not ask unless... she knew the person would have no problem with such. But as she is drawn to people she is drawn to relics as well. Upon her belt are usually relics she'd dug up from lands far from the Darkspear shores, several voodoo dolls hang at her belt, perhaps for decor, or maybe she made them.. or dug them up from the ruins of troll empires long past.

Past her curious exterior you'd find her loyalties are as obscured as the rest of her. She forsakes the Loa in such a way that.. most trolls would call her a herretic, and likely try to kill her. Instead of asking for the Loa's assistance, she curses their names out of a long-standing bitterness. A select few have her loyalty, and even then those loyalties are relative and only used if it furthers her own.. unknown ends. The people who have her loyalty know who they are, she bears scars from saving them in one way or the other. But to those who do have her loyalty they'd see a warmer, less harsh side to her. They'd see a peek at who the troll is beneath the the many masks she wears on a day-to-day basis. Those select few are the ones she trusts, and though she may show it in odd ways, they are the ones she cares about the most.

Her bitter war-haggard exterior is the side most would see. And the reason she seems to be more of a recluse than a socialite. Her bitterness to the Loa emanates from her, and hearing the prayers of other trolls seems to only cause her to become further annoyed. She views the "Loa" as simply lies. They are tales, and that is it and it's useless to pray to things that don't exist. After all, if they did exist, why would they have cursed her as she did? Cursing a child to a life spent in Gurubashi blood pits for something she didn't even know she could do. She despises spirituality and yet, it also piques her curiosity. Why do other trolls seem to rely on beings that don't exist? Why not simply buck the fuck up and do what they need to do alone, without the help of some invisible being that is too cowardly to show it's face?

Early Years
A young child born in the snow-laden lands of the Drakkari was brought into the world, a fierce cry escaping her throat. Her mother exhausted but proud, her father now holding her in his arms, blessing Har'koa for giving him such a strong child. Her birth was the sign of a darkening time in the Drakkari history, there were rumors that disease was beginning to spread in other parts of Northrend. But the father refused to allow his newborn to go, not unless he had to. And so, the parents raised the little girl, the innocent trolless having taken to her father's passionate and fiery personality far more than her mother's more quiet and reserved persona. One day her father had brought her to the Altar of Har'koa, in order to give the child the leopard godess' blessing. But he was alarmed when Har'koa refused, outright to bless the child.

Perhaps her Loa was not of the Leopard like himself..

When Anji was around two her mother had become pregnant again with another child, who'd later come to be known as Ki'ji, her younger (But eldest) brother. But the little girl never got to meet her brother, or at least she doesn't remember meeting her him at this age.. as disease began to run through the part of Zul'Drak that she lived in. It was then had been handed off to a young Zandalari Shaman, a friend of her father's and a 'soul-bother' to her father. He'd intended for his daughter to live and grow with the Zandalari, away from the blight that he knew would hit their home soon enough.. and it did. While his daughter was on a boat on the way to Zandalar, the sickness overcame much of Zul'Drak, causing illness wherever it went. Nobody knew what would happen to them if they'd gotten ill.. no Drakkari would have guessed..

Anji's boat crashed. The only thing saving the child was the talents of the tidewalker shaman whom was gravely injured but kept the little girl safe as they washed ashore in Stranglethorn Vale. The great Gurubashi empire existed here, they would need to take the child. He wove a passing group of headhunters over, explaining his mission and.. making it obvious he wouldn't survive long enough to complete it. They agreed to take the child in, though what happened to her within the walls of Zul'Gurub was up to the priests of their empire. The three year old trolless would never guess this was the beginning to a road of greatness for her, a road to power.

Upon arriving the headhunters knew the little troll looked much different than the other younglings of the tribe. She was bigger, more muscled than a jungle troll child. Her hair was almost as black as the night sky, whereas the jungle trolls' had an array of colors and shades that reflected the colorfulness of the wildlife that lived within the jungle around them. Not that it bothered the child much, in fact she delighted in the brightly colored hair of her new family, expressing such with a smile that.. seemed to warm the heart of one particular priest. An elderly man nicknamed "Grandfather" by many. He was a priest of Shirvallah, and he accepted the Drakkari child as his own and as such made it clear to the other priests she was to be treated as any other Gurubashi child would.

It didn't stop the looks. Having been re-named Zitajie by the priests of Shirvallah, as she grew she noticed the looks she got.. wondering why people stared. She was a troll too, right? But that was also when she began to notice she was taller than the other troll girls, and stronger too. She found her first jobs in helping the priests raise and saddle tigers for them to ride on, and them moving to things such as the raptor pens as well. She had a connection, an affinity for wildlife. Something inexplicable brought animals from all around the jungle toward her. She'd calm an agitated tiger with a simple touch to the muzzle, charm a snake into dancing for the priests' amusement. Her connection was to the very earth Shirvallah had formed for the trolls of Azeroth. She gained respect for such and yet, it only made the looks linger longer..

To be honest, she'd seen some other children able to slink about the city unnoticed.. she wished she could do that. She wished she could spend a day without someone staring at her, or someone looking at her as though she was the strangest thing in all of Stranglethorn.

She felt envious for the first time. And from that envy spawned a turn of events that landed her in a place no troll would want to go.. in her envy and eventual anger she shapeshifted. In her stead a massive tiger, proud and regal. The priests knew of primals, and other Loa-priests. But none had completely shapeshifted into the Loa of choice, many called her hexxed, and feared her! She caused such a stir that she was thrown out, into the blood pits to spend the rest of her days fighting until she was killed. She'd live alongside criminals and murderers.. simply out of fear from the other trolls.

She hated it. She despised every moment of it, one would be able to hear her cursing the names of every Loa she'd ever learned about, they'd hear her forsaking troll-kind for what they'd done to her.. a seed of bitterness had been planted inside of the girl's heart.. one that never went away. For years she spent her time within the blood-pits, eventually moving to the grand Gurubashi Arena! And by that point she'd grown immensely, physically having matured into a woman, she'd not only lived, but she grew up in the pits. With the eyes of hundreds of trolls upon her, watching her fight for her very existence, and for their amusement. She came to resent them, and resent them all for what they'd done. And one particular night she'd killed her opponent, his blood spattered across her body and what little armor she was given.

She made a break for it.. she was going to try and escape..

The years Spent Brawling
"So, you were tryin' ta escape on us eh, bitch?" a voice, raspy and low whispered into her ear. She was unable to move, something had poisoned her.. or paralyzed her. She tried to struggle against this troll's superior weight and strength but it was in vain. Eventually she wore herself out to exhaustion, passing out only to wake hours later in pain unlike anything she could describe. A blade, coated in a poison and acid like liquid slowly cut at her body, burning her and splitting her open like a piece of wood..

"Let's see what makes you tick, girlie." the voice, said again. Her vision was blurred, tears streaked her face from the pain. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of any audible sounds of pain.. that was until she felt the blade simply stab through the muscle and embed itself within her. Her scream echoed through Stranglethorn, likely scaring many of the beasts in the area away. She could feel the blood running down her body, she was afraid to look at what he'd done but another troll forced her to anyway. He tilted her head up, the trolless almost getting sick at what she was seeing. He'd peeled away her skin and muscle layer by layer, a totem nearby was linked to her, the only thing keeping her from falling dead on the table she was strapped down to. She could see inside of herself..

After that everything went black, or perhaps it was simply too much pain for her to remember everything.. what she did know was she woke inside of her cell, her body mended but she bore the scars of the Witch Doctor's actions, a mark of shame across her abdomen. Within another hour she was forced back into the ring, perhaps a way of killing her mercifully. And yet, she continued to surprise. She brawled with increased fervor and ferocity, leaving opponents not cleanly killed, but their bodies in pieces, their blood splattered on the walls and floor of the arena. She'd stand soaked in the blood of Amani, Gurubashi, and any other troll brave enough to have a deathwish at facing her. She killed savagely, and heartlessly. Often removing said organ and throwing it to the unfortunate family member, mate, or friend of her victim.

The body count simply rose. As did her fame, and also infamy.

The Rescue, The Tragedy
There finally was a challenge for her, a shaman stepped up. Aiming to put her out of her misery, or at least knock sense into her. Their battle spanned three days and three nights until they both passed out from exhaustion, she woke only to find herself in the arms of said shaman, and waking not in her cell but.. inside a hut, on a real bedroll. Needless to say, she was alarmed, and unable to really express it. As the hours passed they'd begun to talk, she learned the Shaman's name was Maa'ji, and that he'd come from the isle of Zandalar to see just who this female-gladiator was. For the first time in years, the now nineteen year old troll laughed, and enjoyed herself in someone else's company. She found herself happily at his side, often the two sharing jokes and hunting together, inseparable by most standards. And with such a bond, came the inevitable.

Within six months he'd taken her as his mate, and she spent many happy years with him. In those years she bore a single daughter, whom she'd named Zeni. Tough and fiery like her mother, Zeni was Zitajie's pride and joy, and would often bring small joys to the trolless's life. But, not all was as it seemed, there was a day Maa'ji had fallen ill, he'd become sick with something she'd never seen before, she'd called to friends of theirs, even "Family" of theirs to see if he could be cured, and nothing worked. She watched her mate begin to waste away to nothing, and with that came a renewed fire in her soul. Zitajie began to look at ways to cure him, but these ways were not acceptable by any standard in troll society, especially by Zandalari society, and it costed her when Maa'ji found out.

She returned to camp, to find her daughter dead, and her mate on his own deathbed covered in the blood of their daughter.

"Ya be nothin' but a rabid animal, nothin' ya bitch. Leave, Ju not the last t'ing I want to be seein' as Samedi takes me ta rest."

Zitajie changed that day and disappeared completely from Stranglethorn, rumors had it the woman had killed herself from the shock and loss of her mate and child. Little did they know she'd wandered in her tiger form to the camp of a passing tauren druid, whom for two more years mentored her in druidism, helping her master each form he taught her and teaching her how to effectively fight in the feline form.

The Horde, The Blades
Needless to say she rarely left her feline form after that. She used it to hide the emotions that raged within. And through the tauren she joined the Horde, meeting friends and eventually her own blood-sister from Northrend Naa'iji. Such landed her in the ranks of the Kor'kron legion, under the leadership of the enigmatic rogue Githnji the Butcher. She served their ranks loyally, and without fail or question, until his untimely death. Where her innately suspicious attitude took over, she began to distrust the leadership, which costed her one battle. She'd ended up being discharged after sustaining a wound that made her unable to be fit for combat whatsoever, and simply wandered ever since, until she ran back into the Butcher, and his band of "Blackblades."

The Brotherhood of the Blade gave her a new purpose and a new zeal for things in her life. Githnji, and Mokraa gave her back a want to continue, and a want to better herself. But.. they also gave her back the warmth she'd lost through her years of combat and bloodshed. In many ways she'd lost touch with people, finding herself unable to relate to anyone, no matter how much they tried to open up to her and tell her little secrets, she was unable to truly understand or relate to them. Perhaps a band of assassins did more good than they realized.

The Blackblades were family, and she'd protect them all.

The Thunder King, The Zandalari
Rumors have it Kiharu now is hidden on the Isle of the Thunder King, somehow having infiltrated his citadel and on a mission to not only find her sister Naa'iji, who ran off in haste to make the Frost King, the leader of the Drakkari empire, Malakk pay for his betrayal to the Drakkari people... But she is there for her own gain, Blackblades would know, or have heard rumors of her researching the thunderous power that the Mogu wield. Perhaps looking to morph it and use it for the Blades' own gain.