Jhaktu

Jhaktu ("hock-TOO") was born in the jungles of Stranglethorn, the unremarkable trollish child of unremarkable trollish parents. As he grew, Jhaktu showed no aptitude for the voodoo arts, and he compensated with an untrollish fixation on superstition and luck (which didn't require talent so much as a touch of OCD). He developed odd habits like walking clockwise around a hut before entering, tucking the first bite of a meal into his cheek to save for last, and reflexively spitting after speaking his name, all with the intent of improving his fortune. These odd rituals, combined with his smallish size and plodding intellect, led to much bullying by his peers, and Jhaktu developed a submissive personality, seeking always to please others and avoid notice.

Pyrophilia
When Jhaktu was eight and nine, two particular events combined to form a lasting effect. The first was during one of his periodic bullyings, when Jhaktu was shoved aside by an alpha troll boy showing off for the other children. Jhaktu fell partway into a low-burning campfire, and his pants ignited. Jhaktu leapt up, slapping at his trousers and whirling about, causing the other children to recoil in fright and scramble out of his way. Jhaktu raced across the clearing and plunged gratefully assward into a convenient puddle of mud, extinguishing himself. As he sat cooling his nethers, Jhaktu noted how the other children had jumped aside as he hurtled from firepit to mudhole. He interpreted this as a form of respect, and a profound love of fire bloomed within his -- well, let's say his heart.

At first, Jhaktu's pyrophilia was limited to bouts of self-immolation, and he made good use of his trollish regenerative capabilities. When he felt threatened, Jhaktu would simply plunge an arm or leg into the nearest open flame and begin screaming and thrashing about, thereby averting other troubles. But a second pivotal event gave his combustive tendencies an outward focus. Jhaktu happened upon the recent corpse of an unfortunate human mage adventurer who had met his demise at the business end of a sawtooth crocalisk. Other trolls might have been drawn to the human corpse's delicate skull, just right for shrinking, or the fine fingers, perfect for a chic necklace or other ornament. But Jhaktu, being a voodoo nonstarter, was drawn instead to the smooth, gleaming wand still clutched in the corpse's clenched fist. He pried the wand loose, wiped it clean, blasted a fireball into a neighboring hut, and Jhaktu the Mage was born.

As Jhaktu became progressively more capable as a mage, he became even less popular among his fellows, and he eventually left the village, to the relief of all. He picked up odd jobs where he could, prefering the ones that called for liberal application of heat. He happily scorched bunnies, poached monstrous crawlers, and incinerated all manner of flora and fauna, working his way up to truly alarming conflagrations.

The Dream
During this period Jhaktu had a life-altering dream. In his own words (though Common is not his native tongue, and linguistics not his forte):

"I am to having dream of being there three animal: toads, anteaters and ferrets. In dreaming, the Rare Toads of Nether come and be telling me of to join the Horde. I am tell the Rare Toads of Nether yes, so I travel to join Horde. The Horde in dream is all anteaters. 'We are Anteaters for Horde' they are saying me to. I join with the Anteaters for Horde and they are take me with them to battle againsting Alliance.

"The Alliance in dream is all ferrets. Yes. So we Anteaters of Horde are begin fighting with Ferrets of Alliance, and I am being muchly of the nerves and scaredness. All of this frightening and scarement makes me to feel not so well in the bowel parts and -- excuse me please -- I make to release an odor there on the battle.

"The odor is of a bigness that makes even me to be wide in the eyes, and I am at first being embarrased of it. But then victory is being, because it is an odor ferrets hate. And the ferrets, they flee from battle with much pinch of nose and shout of discomfort. And the Anteaters for Horde, they cheer the big odor, because it is an odor ferrets hate, and they carry me on shoulders and toss me happy."

Jhaktu pondered the meaning of this dream for many weeks. He was superstitiously convinced that the dream contained an important message, but it eluded him until he chanced to overhear a conversation at the Booty Bay tavern. Vedaine Dulosse, an undead warlock previously unknown to Jhaktu, was interviewing a prospective guildmember at a nearby table. Jhaktu was puzzling over the significance of "Rare Toads of Nether", "Anteaters for Horde", and "an odor ferrets hate", when he overheard Vedaine mention the name of the guild, "the Tears of Draenor". In an uncharacteristic flash of understanding, the pieces fell together for Jhaktu.

All four phrases were composed of the same 20 letters, each an anagram of the other: Rare Toads of Nether. Anteaters for Horde. An Odor Ferrets Hate. THE TEARS OF DRAENOR.

Jhaktu was galvanized. He waited until Vedaine finished with the interview, then approached the elderly undead and enthusiastically stated his case, pleading to be recruited into this dream-foretold guild. Jhaktu's idiosyncratic language skills may have left Vedaine somewhat in the dark, but it was clear enough that Jhaktu was desperate to join the Tears. Desperate enough, even, for Vedaine's nefarious purposes.

The Little Man in the Head
For reasons of his own, Vedaine had been looking for a test subject, and Jhaktu presented the perfect opportunity. Assuring Jhaktu that it was perfectly safe, a mere trifling, he persuaded the troll to participate in a small experiment in exchange for the assurance of membership in the Tears (an assurance that, strictly speaking, Vedaine lacked the authority to grant). Jhaktu agreed without hesitation and watched as Vedaine produced a glowing orb the size of a pomegranate and began to incant in a chilly whisper.

...

Jhaktu awoke much later, headache raging, every fiber of his body twanging like an untended toothache, and an irate and unidentified voice shouting painfully in his skull. He managed to pick himself up from where he had been tossed on a pile of debris behind the Booty Bay tavern, apparently left for dead. He banged away at the right side of his head, in a painful attempt to silence the even more painful ravings of the mysterious voice, without success.

"Dat hellborn corpse-monkey! Dat be de las'time!  Insuffer'ble demon spawn!  Rattle-bone imp-loving soul-stealing mind-f***er!"

The incoherent diatribe raged on for days within Jhaktu's head, leaving him weak, his vibrant green coloring faded to a dingy gray. When at last the voice began to calm slightly, gradually sputtering to a barely tolerable level, Jhaktu was able to begin assessing his predicament. It was difficult to listen to what the voice in his head was actually saying -- like trying to extract meaning from an army of fingernails clawing at the world's largest chalkboard. But he eventually determined that the entity between his ears was named Oibix, and that Oibix had been irretrievably wronged by the warlock Vedaine and, for some reason, implanted in Jhaktu's skull.

Jhaktu set out to find the evil warlock and have this Oibix person evicted. He began by approaching members of the Tears of Draenor, but discovered that the mere mention of Vedaine's name would set off intense and debilitating rampages by what he thought of as the little man in his head. Even to think the name Vedaine would cause eye-watering pain, and Jhaktu came to refer to his nemesis only as "the dead one."

The Tears counseled Jhaktu kindly, and did their best to avoid mention of "the dead one's" name when speaking to him. But they were unwilling to attempt the extraction of Oibix's presence from Jhaktu's mind. As they told Jhaktu, Oibix was himself a member of the Tears of Draenor, or at least had been previously, and so they could not risk killing Oibix (or what was left of him) in the process. Elder Ruarc suggested that Jhaktu might eventually become acclimated to his mental guest, and might even benefit from the experience, two heads being better than one.

As time passed, Jhaktu did indeed become better accustomed to the whinging, irritable voice that had settled in his right ear. And the Oibix presence seemed to tire even of its own rantings, largely withholding comment as it observed Jhaktu's lackluster progression through life. When Jhaktu was later admitted as a member into the Tears of Draenor, Oibix was further mollified, and on rare occasions would even speak to Jhaktu for reasons other than complaint, nitpicking and beratement. But Jhaktu continued to feel sharp discomfort at the mention of his nemesis, the undead warlock, and he took care never again to be in Vedaine's presence, for fear that he might not survive the next meeting.