Farseer

Lozaki

<Distinction>

(UNS) Barthilas

Zandalari Troll Elementar Schamane

Farseer

You want to know where I come from? Heh. Not from the gilded palaces of Dazar’alor, that much is certain. I was never meant for the priesthood, never meant to kneel before the Loa and chant the same words my father and his father did. Even as a child, I felt somethin’ different stirring inside me — a hunger in the air, in the water, in the earth beneath my feet.

When the storms rolled in off the sea, the others hid in their huts. Me? I climbed the cliffs to meet them. I thought myself fearless, a fool perhaps, until one night the storm spoke back. Thunder cracked so close it burned my skin, and in the crash of waves I heard it: a voice, older than Zandalar itself, askin’ me if I would command the storm… or be broken by it.

I survived that night, but I was never the same. My eyes carried the fire of the lightning. My veins burned with the pull of the tide. The priests shunned me, said I was cursed, touched by powers that were not the Loa. But I was not abandoned — the elements had claimed me. A few outcasts, shamans wanderin’ far from the temple walls, took me in. They taught me to listen, not demand. To bargain with stone, flame, wind, and water.

And when the Alliance came to our shores, I gave them a storm they’ll never forget. Lightning split their sails, waves dragged their soldiers beneath the depths. I fought not for kings nor priests, but for the land itself, for the voices that called me their own.

Now I walk the wider world. The Legion is gone, aye, but the scars remain. Azeroth bleeds, the Old Gods whisper, and the elements cry out louder than ever. Balance is broken — and I will not stand idle while the world shatters around me.

So, remember this: I am Lozaki, stormspeaker of Zandalar. I do not bow to Loa nor throne. I walk with fire, water, earth, and sky. And if you stand in my way… then may the storm show you no mercy.