I'm dead. (Well, Gorico is, rather)

Lying in a hut, listening to the noises of the scorpids claking their claws, and of Centaurs trampling around, Gorico closed his eyes. "Heya, brotha, don't be sad now." He said, to a lean Troll sitting next to him. "I be goin'to da Loa now. I gonna be happy dere too, lil' brotha."
"Ya be happy, brotha, but I don't be." The night had fallen on Sen'ji Village, and in the Voodoo Doctor's hut the two Trolls talked further. "I don't wanna you to go, brotha. What will I be doin' without ya? I canna do what ya can, I needa ya to survive." The smaller of the two said. "Ya need me?" Gorico laughed as he coughed up some red-black blood. "Ya dun' need me. Ya nevah need me". He opened his eyes again. They were bloodshot, tired and rather unhealthy looking. "But... brotha.." The smaller Troll said. "Nuthin' but. I be dead soon, and I need ya to be strong. Like ya always be. May ya axe alwa..." He coughed, and spat out some more blood "... May yar axe always strike true, lil' brotha."
Gorico rested his eyes again, placed his head on the hard, wooden pillow the Voodoo doctor had given him, and with a peacefull emotion on his face, died. "Brotha...." the smaller Troll said as he put his head in his hands.

After several minutes, the smaller Troll came from the hut, and walked towards to Voodoo doctor. "He be dead, doctah." The docter moved his head towards the small troll. "I know dat. I be havin' somet'in' for joo, from 'im." The doctor gave the small Troll a crumpled letter. " 'E tol' me 'e dunna wanna joo to have it before 'he be dead." The smaller Troll took the letter, and read it.

"I know you don't like it that I didn't tell you this while I be alive.
But I couldn't tell you like I was. I need you to go to the meeting of the Heritage, so you can tell them of my death. I be sorry I didn't accept you because of wanted. You'll always be my brother, and I'll always guide you. Here on Azeroth, or with the Loa. I'll guide you.
There is one last thing, though. I still owe a debt to the guild. It don't be much, 3000 silver coins, but I still owe them. I place this debt on you. I know you can handle it.

Gorico"

And when the sun was rose, the little brother set out, preparing himself for that dreaded next meeting.
Corigo, as his name was, looked one last time to the hut where his brother had died, and then traveled to Orgimmar, to seek his luck, and those 3000 silver coins.


((OOC explanation:
I am getting a bit sick with Gorico. He's a hunter, and after playing a bit with other classes, I now recognize I hate no class more than hunter.
But, as I don't want to quit the Guild, I have made a new character, Corigo (I know, so much creativity) a warrior, and he will (if allowed) replace Gorico in the Guild. Of course, Gorico will remain in existance, seeing he will still be able to make more money than a lvl 9 warrior for quite some time. And perhaps he will make a ghostly appearance or something. In any case, he's not my main character anymore. That's the baseline, but I might change the story if you guys don't like it. I wrote this here, so you guys won't think it's a hoax when my warrior comes and pays you a visit on Monday. IC, you guys know nothing about this just yet.))

((If you want a funeral ritual for Gorico - Jimar be the Troll. Could be an interesting RP event. I try and associate Jimar with the 'darker' part of the voodoo - spirits of death and all.))