Zin'Zahr the Black
|Build||Big, bulky, muscular|
|Age||26 at death|
|Current Residence||Somewhere in the Barrens|
- "I 'aff become, tat wat I used te fight... ...A monster."
- —Zin'Zahr the Black
Dead cold skill all over his undying body, pale as the winter itself. His eyes reflecting a bright, icy blue glow. His hair, braided and ruffled. Unkept and wild, dirty. His tusks, coverd in black and grey symbols, however they are tatterd by the test of time. Fangs inside of his mouth, that gives off a foul odour.
Along the right side of his face, a long, tearing scar, running down the side of his face, over his throat and down to the left side of his torso. To his left eye, from the corner to all the way back, ripped and burned off flesh, the edges of the flesh that remained, blackened edges.
Muscular figure, but also flexible, as every other troll. Muscules even a tauren could envy, beneath the pale skin, black lines wanely noticable. The blood still flowing.
His hands, their palms, marked with two black symbols that correspond to one another, At times, pulsing faintly green with unholy energy. His nails, blackend, thick and dirty, sharp nonetheless.
This berzerker, cheated death time after time, had met his end, fighting those who destroyed his family. Fighting those who ment a threat to his tribe, fighting those, deemed unworthy to live. Fighting monsters, however in the end, became one of them.
Work in progress