Post
by Jam » Wed Jun 17, 2020 7:16 pm
Jam
Aliases: Chef, J-man, J
Relatives: Innkeeper Wiley (adoptive father)
Current Affiliation: Horde, Steamwheedle Cartel, Broken Keel Tavern
Former Affiliation: Frostwolf Clan, Venture Company
Date of birth: Year 1
Place of birth: Alterac Valley
Species: Orc
Gender: Male
Height: 7'2"
Weight: 425
Eye color: Blue
Jam is a large orc with an intense countenance. Even when relaxed and jovial there is a severity to his gaze and gravitas in his words. He works daily in the kitchen of the Broken Keel Tavern as a cook, cleaner, and cart runner, gathering supplies for the business, as well as for Wiley's engineering. He has served as the cook in the Broken Keel Tavern since Year 13 when he was traded to Wiley by members of the Venture Company to settle an outstanding balance.
Birth and Discovery: Year 1
The wind howled and whistled as it tore through the rocks in Alterac. Draka was in her birthing bed and the Frostwolves gathered around her, eager to see the birth of their chieftain's heir. As they moved towards the tent a word began coursing through the crowd. "Green." The whelp had green skin. "He is corrupted," she thought. Aghast, a female orc, belly rounded with child staggered back from the crowd. Durotan and Drek'Thar were speaking to the mass of Frostwolves. Her thoughts were a deafening cyclone. She was sure they were discussing the end of the child. The banishment of it's mother. They wouldn't abide a green skinned spawn. Her hand flew to her belly and she set her jaw in determination. She had left her home following Durotan's orders. His assurances that it was "best for the clan." She had watched as her lifemate died a coward's death from a swampspider's poison. She would not die, weak from giving birth, to the whims of an imprudent chief. She had seen a yeti cave on their journey in, not a full day's journey from where she now stood. They were a warrior race, she would die a warrior's death.
The goblin cursed as he entered the cave. The smell of burnt yeti hair, rotting meat, and feces inundated the frozen air. "Smells like money." the foreman said. He was still entertaining what, exactly, it smelled like when he saw a lifeless brown mass on the cavern floor. Surrounded by dead yetis yet too small to be one, it looked like a large human, only uglier. Stark naked and with an axe in it's hand. The goblin struggled to roll the humanoid over. As he did, a grunt escaped from within the corpse. Greed lit a fire in the goblin. A small yeti, a parasite, a flesh eating spider? "Look at this," he yelled, to no one in particular, as he produced a small knife. The goblin cut open the orc and withdrew her son. The small orc flailed about as the goblin held it up by one leg. "Hells," he said to the infant, "You and the axe are worth more than a day's wage." "Send in the 'volunteers', it is all clear," he yelled, chuckling to himself. He spun on his heel, hooked the axe under it's blade and headed for the cave entrance.
Venture Company Internment, Fel involvement, and Release: Years 1-13
Jam learned to speak by listening to the goblins on the journey around the Eastern Kingdoms and back to the barrens. He was kept in a sack whenever he wasn't behind a locked door. They told him he was uglier than a gnome, with teeth like a pig and that they'd have to pay anyone who saw him. They poked his tusks and mocked his skinny ears. At three years of age, Jam stood taller than his goblin taskmasters but did not resist their orders. At five he was removed from the travelling expedition team he had been on and placed at the Boulderlode worksite. There, the ventrue company had made an agreement with rogue warlocks. Jam was empowered as the raging orcs of the invaiding force, forced to develop to a more usable age and size by their fel magics and demonic assistance.
Kept hidden from sight, Jam was overseen by human and ogre taskmasters due to his size. He was kept at the head of the workforce but separated from the other slaves. Guarded like a trade secret, the wars and events of Kalimdor had no impact on Jam as he toiled in the dirt, dust and rock.
The first time Jam saw another orc he was 11 years old. The chaos that ensued took all five human taskmasters and one ogre to quell. After subduing him, Boss Copperplug decided that it wouldn't be cost effective to kill Jam and lose an experienced and relatively content worker or to lose his newly acquired, and much larger, orc. Copperplug made the two orcs an offer. In exchange for his continued service, Jam would be taught to speak the language of the orcs and would also take on new responsibilities at the site. Jam did not hear any terms offered to the large orc that still looked alien to him.
As his orders stated, Jam ran mine carts and quelled disputes amongst the smaller "volunteers," as they were called, when directed. He didn't fear the electric jolt from whatever goblin machinery they were currently testing as a motivator, nor did he fear the beatings of the gnoll or human taskmasters. He only spoke goblin and orcish, so the jumbled mess the gnolls gibbered as they kicked or threw things at him just sounded comical. The humans sounded nicer but there intent was the same. The only thing Jam cared about was getting to talk to his friend, Rekgor, at the end of each day. Rekgor was a crafty old orc and Jam admired him. He was shorter than Jam, standing 6'5" but he was almost double his girth. Rekgor explained to Jam that he was a prisoner and told him of the orc's story outside his captivity. He spoke of their bloodlust, and the lethargy that gripped them now. He reminisced of the old ways, of shamanism and of another world. Jam was in awe of the stories but never doubted Rekgor's sincerity. Jam spoke very little and Rekgor talked almost constantly, growing more energetic and strengthening each day. Jam came to trust Rekgor completely. Numerous times Rekgor seemed to do the impossible, stopping rocks from falling right as Jam was sure they would. Producing water from the rock when Jam could find no stream. For two years Jam and Rekgor dug at the site in the Northern Barrens, turning the boulder lode worksite into the boulder lode mine.
The Barrens sun burned down on the Boulder lode mine as Wiley approached in his wagon. "Copperplug!" He shouted. "Where's my payment?!" Wiley looked around at the scene before him. "Slaves," he thought disgustedly, "No different than the trolls."
"Ahh, Wiley," Copperplug began, coming down from the second level of the site's outbuilding. "Let me cut ya short, pal." Wiley interjected, "I ain't here ta hear your pleasantries or excuses. I'm here for my gold, or Gazlowe'll be here for your hide. This is the balance." With that Wiley tossed a small clamped bill at Copperplug. Copperplug looked over the bill and then looked past Wiley at his wagon. "You alone, Wiley?" he asked perfidiously. "What's it matter to you, Coppertop? Send one of your lackeys to get my gold already, I got the cook watchin' shop." Copperplug tucked the bill into his vest pocket and looked back at an ogre "Send for the green," he said, "both of them." "Money'll be up in just a tick ol' Wiley," Copperplug sneered.
The sunlight was brighter than Jam wanted to endure as he approached the mine's entrance. He'd been digging inside and not allowed to leave for at least a year. "Listen, pup," his old friend said in a whisper, "whatever this is, it isn't good." The ogre that fetched the pair walked in front of them, his footfalls mixing with the pings and thuds of mining. "If anything starts, I want you to run. You've a life to live and I've a lifetime of blood to pay for." Jam nodded his understanding. "This conversation has happened before," he remembered, "close to when we met. This old orc is certain he must die to make up for his past." The piercing sun broke Jam's thought. The two orcs emerged into the warm Barrens air. Jam noticed the new goblin immediately. He was dressed nicer, not wearing leather or ragged cloth. His outfit looked soft. He was cleaner than any goblin he'd seen and had gold jewelry in his ears. "Here's my payment, Wiley," Copperplug said as the orcs arrived by his side, "These two are gonna allow you to leave and we're going to be even." "Well Copperslug," Wiley said chuckling, "I see you still think you see opportunity when you're staring at defeat. That's how ya ended up owing me so much if you recall. Thalo'thas, let's show 'em the collection cannon!" The canvas top on the back of the wagon was tossed aside and Jam raised his brows as a tall slender humanoid was revealed leaning on a large gun. "You see "Boss"," Wiley said mockingly, "What you've done here is brought me my payment, yeah? Cuz if that wasn't why you called these two orcs, I'm going to be forced to ask T up there to light the cannon." Copperplug stared ahead at the ship size cannon. "Yeah... Yeah Wiley, that's what I was doing. I don't have the money to pay ya," he blubbered, "so I called for my two best workers! You can take 'em! We're even now right?"
“The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there.. and still on your feet.”
Slowly turtling my way up.
:: Meow!! :: 
