Post by bebbit on Jun 14, 2014 20:18:43 GMT -5
Thunder echoed through the chasm and jolted the Tauren awake. Sunlight streaming down blinded him at first, and he had to squint through the glare. Pain lanced through his body as his surroundings slowly started to take shape.
He was on a ledge, perhaps ten feet below what looked to be the edge of the chasm. Struggling to stand, the Tauren quickly realized he didn’t have the strength to push himself up. Trying to get a handhold on the wall, he only succeeded in creating a small cascade of pebbles onto himself.
As he lay there panting from the exertion, he tried to remember the events leading to his present predicament. No matter how much he struggled though, the only image that came to his mind was one of gigantic black wings, and the earth below him crumbling.
Another peal of thunder rent the air as the Tauren took stock of his situation.
He had no food, no water, he was too injured to even stand, and he had no idea if anyone knew where he was. Even attempting to call out was useless. His throat parched and raw, he could only manage a faint shout that got lost in the winds.
Hours turned into days, and the Tauren’s strength drained away. Time lost meaning. He’d attempt to climb the wall whenever he thought he’d rested enough, but was never able to even stand. He’d always fall back, exhausted with the effort. His mind began to wander, and lack of food and water began to make him delirious.
As he laid on his back after yet another attempt, the sounds of stones crunching under wheels faintly reached his ears. He gathered his breath and shouted as loudly as possible, trying to gain the attention of whomever the cart belonged to.
A shout in an unfamiliar language set the Tauren on edge, and he grew more apprehensive when he saw the face appear over the ledge above him.
It was the face of a human male.
Not daring to move a muscle, the Tauren stared back as the human examined his situation. He could feel the adrenaline start to flow through his body, clearing his blurry vision and giving strength to his limbs.
The human said something that sounded like a question, then chuckled to himself and shook his head. Patting the air in front of him, his face disappeared and the Tauren heard a commotion as the human rummaged through the wagon.
Appearing over the ledge again, he shouted down at the Tauren and threw an object towards him. The Tauren flinched and braced as he watched what he imagined as his death fall towards him.
As the rope hit his chest, the Tauren looked up in bewilderment. The human hurriedly motioned for him to put it around his body, and tie it off. Still confused, the Tauren complied. The face disappeared from the ledge again, but almost immediately he heard a shout and the rope tightened across his chest.
As he began to inch upward, pain flooded up his leg and spread throughout his body.
Struggling to stay conscious, the Tauren attempted to steady himself against the wall as he scraped along it. The agony proved to be too great however, and he succumbed to the darkness that beckoned.
“What in the Light am I doing?” Bennit McCafferty wondered to himself as he coaxed his horse forward. “We’re at war; I should just leave him here.”
Certainly Bennit had no love for the Horde. He’d fought against them numerous times in the past, and had lost quite a few friends over the years. As he’d looked down at the broken and helpless Tauren though, sympathy had overwhelmed his usually hardened heart. He’d grabbed whatever spare rope he had in his wagon, and began to haul the Tauren up.
He could feel the Tauren struggling when he first began, but after a few moments he’d grown still. Worried, Bennit urged his horse to pull faster. As the Tauren was dragged over the lip of the chasm, Bennit halted his steed and rushed to the cow’s side.
Uttering a quick spell of healing, Bennit’s brow furrowed as nothing happened. He attempted another spell, and grew more upset as that had no effect on the prone Tauren as well.
“It shouldn’t matter what his affiliation is!” Bennit shouted at the sky. “Allow me to heal this wounded creature!”
Thunder rumbling in the distance was the only answer he received.
Sighing, Bennit racked his mind for a solution. Remembering a farmstead he’d avoided on his trek towards this location, He decided the only option available would be to bring the unconscious Tauren to his own people.
Drinking a potion of strength, Bennit grabbed the rope and attempted to pull the Tauren into the wagon. He struggled for the good part of an hour before finally leveraging him into the bed. Leaping to the front seat, the Paladin urged his horse forward at a run, and they tore across the Barrens.
Silently cursing his sympathy, Bennit kept a sharp eye for any observers. He didn’t want to attract any more attention than he needed; he was still deep in enemy territory. He hoped the night would mask their flight, but held no illusions as to the racket they made.
“This will definitely not be in my report when I return to Stormwind.” He mumbled to himself.
The plains seemed endless as the wagon rattled and shook every time they hit a rut or bump in the ground. Bennit had started to question his sense of direction when he saw a light in the distance.
Pulling on the reins to slow them down, Bennit strained his eyes in an attempt to make out what the light was attached to.
As they drew closer, he sighed with relief when the outline of a farmhouse took shape in the dark. Bennit stopped the wagon and staked his horse to the ground.
Walking around to where the Tauren lay, still passed out, hesitation overtook him. He couldn’t just walk up to the house and announce his presence to the inhabitants. His mission required that he maintain a low profile.
After puzzling out the problem for a few minutes, he came up with a solution. Gathering sticks and brush from around his wagon, the Paladin piled them up until he had enough to start a small fire. A few minutes of straining his muscles, Bennit was able to push the Tauren out of the wagon and next to the fire pit.
Striking his flint and steel, he started the fire. Quickly searching around, he picked up a fist sized rock and hurled it at the farmhouse’s door. Not waiting to see if anyone answered, Bennit quickly pulled the stake from the ground, jumped in the wagon, and thundered off into the night.
As he drew away, one last look over his shoulder confirmed his haste had not been in vain. He saw the soft glow from inside the house as the door opened, and two hunched figures shamble out towards the prone Tauren.
Shaking his head, Bennit cursed Deathwing for the desolation caused by his flight, and for the compassion he felt for the victims in his wake.
He chuckled as he thought of the surprised looks the inhabitants of the farm must have when they found the half dead Tauren lying by the fire.
Looking back forward, Bennit once again concentrated on his mission. Hopefully no more distractions would slow him down.
Something had changed.
The Tauren slowly grew more aware of his surroundings as the haze of unconsciousness faded. He realized that instead of rock, he was laying on a bed. His feet stuck out past the foot, and the bed creaked as he shifted slightly.
Orc voices whispered softly near him, and the Tauren turned his head towards them.
An elderly Orc male and female regarded him with concern and warmth in their eyes. Looking around he saw that he was in a small house made from wood and sod. Delicious smells were coming from the fireplace and his stomach started to rumble.
“Go fetch some of that stew for him, Derthag. He must be starving.” The female turned to the Tauren. “I’m Vorla, how did you come to be lying by that fire?”
He tried to answer, but only managed a small squeak as his throat was too dry for any words.
“There there dear, don’t try to overdo it. Have some water”
Vorla picked up a pewter cup that was sitting on the nightstand, and tipped the contents into his mouth. The Tauren couldn’t remember water that tasted any sweeter, and he greedily gulped everything she poured into his mouth.
“Not too much, you’ll make yourself sick.” Vorla chided, taking the cup away. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes” He rasped. “Some.”
Derthag walked over with a bowl of stew and started to feed the Tauren. For a time, the only sounds to be heard were the slurping of soup and the crackling of the fire.
After downing the entire bowl, the Tauren attempted to raise himself up on his arms.
“No, you must rest some more. You’re still too weak.” Vorla gently placed a hand on his chest and held him down. “What is your name, and how did you come to be here?”
With a shock, the Tauren realized he couldn’t remember his own name. Ransacking his brain, he couldn’t even remember his family name, or even where he had lived before falling into the fissure.
“I…I don’t remember.” He gasped. “Everything is a blur before I fell into the ground. I don’t even recall how old I am.”
Derthag leaned forward. “Well, what do you remember? Maybe we can piece together where you came from.”
Slowly, the Tauren recounted what he could about the chasm and waking up. When he came to the part about the human, he looked up into their faces.
“How did he get me here, and why? I thought we were at war with the Alliance?”
Vorla shook her head in puzzlement.
“We don’t know anything about a human. Something crashed into our door, and we found you outside lying next to a fire when we investigated it. Are you sure that it was a human who rescued you?”
She looked over at Derthag. “I’ve never heard of that happening before.”
Derthag shook his head in agreement. “It doesn’t matter right now though, we’re just happy that you’re still alive.”
He stood up and walked over to the fire, spooning more soup into the bowl.
“When you’ve regained your strength we will take you over to Camp Taurajo and see if the other Tauren there recognize you.”
The Tauren sighed gratefully and sank his head back into the pillow. He resolved to someday pay back the kind Orcs who had taken him into their home. But first, he would need to find out who he was, and why he had ended up in the fissure to begin with.
Sweat stung his eyes as another numbing blow smashed into his parry. Setting his feet under him, Craznys parried the next overhead strike. As his opponent wound back for another attack, he saw a small opening in the defenses and tried a short jab. The Orc swiftly spun around his axe and slammed the young Tauren in the side with his shield.
Stumbling to his left, Craznys barely managed to bring his axe up for another numbing parry.
It had been a year since Deathwing ravaged the world. The Orc couple had slowly nursed the Tauren back to health, even though they could barely feed themselves. Most of their livestock had run off during the Cataclysm, and what little crops they could grow turn out stunted and barely edible.
Still, they shared what little they had with the young Tauren. After he had regained enough strength to travel, they brought him to Camp Taurajo. They hoped that one of the Tauren inhabiting the village would be able to tell them where he came from, or maybe care for him.
Shock covered their faces as they beheld Taurajo in flames.
They dared not approach with signs of Alliance all around. They also couldn't approach the enormous wall in the passage between the Barrens and Mulgore.
Disappointed, they had trudged back to the farmstead. Upon arriving, Craznys had retired for the night. His wounds still affected him and the long trip to and from the Tauren Village had exhausted him.
As he slept, Vorla and Derthag talked long into the night about his future. They eventually came to the decision to keep and raise him as their own. They had been unable to bear any children of their own, and even though the Tauren didn’t look very young, his mannerisms betrayed a young mind.
When he awoke the next day, the Tauren was confronted by the Gordraks. They explained the situation to him, and expressed their desire to become his adopted parents.
After a few hours of mulling it over, the Tauren agreed. He asked that they choose a name for him, since he was unable to recall his birth name. They decided to name him Craznys, as homage to the time he came into their lives.
“Your mind is drifting again.”
Craznys barely had time to register the growling voice before a sharp pain in his temple drove him down to his knees.
The Orc walked over and offered his hand. As Craznys grasped it and pulled himself back up, the Orc shook his head in disappointment.
“When your parents asked me to come here and teach some young Tauren about the fighting arts, I was skeptical. Now I can see I had a right to be. Your mind wanders when you should be purging any thought but that of your opponent in front of you.”
“I can’t help it.” Craznys replied as he put a hand to his head. “I just keep thinking that I should be doing more to try and discover who I am.”
The Orc grunted and moved in front of him.
“And if I send you off into the world today, you’ll be dead within a week. If the Alliance doesn’t kill you, the environment will. I have been easy on you these past couple of weeks, but I see I need to push you even further.”
The Orc put his callused hand on Craznys’ shoulder.
“I’ll make a pact with you now. If you give yourself completely to my training, listen and learn, dedicate your whole life to it, I promise I will do everything in my power to help you find your heritage.”
“Why would you do that for me?” Craznys asked in puzzlement. “You don’t even know me, I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” The Orc replied. “I owe your father a debt, and training his adopted son enough so that he won’t get himself killed in his first outing is the least I can do. Don’t mistake me, if your father hadn’t asked that I do this I wouldn’t have stayed here after your third session.”
Craznys thought for a moment, scuffing his hooves in the dirt.
“Derthag really means that much to you?”
The Orc nodded.
“Then I would be a poor son if I didn’t give him the same respect. I will submit to your training. From now until you think me worthy, I promise I will not give you a reason to regret helping Derthag.”
“Good and I won’t forget my promise. Now defend.”
The Orc lunged forward, his practice sword aiming for Craznys chest. Sliding to the right of the two handed attack, Craznys brought his axe down over top in a forceful parry. The Orc immediately reversed his attack and brought the sword over in an overhead chop.
As Craznys brought his weapon up for a parry, the Orc suddenly stopped his momentum and instead kicked out and struck the Tauren in the chest with a booted foot.
Staggering back, Craznys growled in defiance and charged forward. As he came within reach of the Orc,
he spun in a complete circle, whipping his axe around him again and again.
As he drove his mentor back, the Tauren silently vowed that he would return to his quest of finding his history. But first he would honor his agreement with the Orc weapons master, and become a warrior worth training.
The Tauren shivered in the morning's chill. The birds hadn't even awoken yet, and dew covered the ground. Craznys hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, and looked back at the place he had called home.
The past two years since he'd been rescued seemed like a blur. From being rescued in the chasm, to training with the Orc, to hearing about a fantastic new land and the weapon master being called away for it.
After the Orc had left, Craznys felt an emptiness he'd never known before. Without his training to occupy the time, Craznys suddenly had more time to think about his future than was comfortable.
He knew that once day he'd eventually have to leave and forge his own path, but he didn't want to leave his parents alone. They had been struggling before he had arrived, and with the Tauren's extra strength the Gordraks had been able to revive their homestead.
Without him, his adopted parents would have to abandon their home and seek refuge in one of the cities.
Sighing, Craznys turned away and began to trudge forward. Determination quickened his pace, and when he came to the main road, he started down it without a moments hesitation.
When news had filtered down to them that both the Alliance and some of the Horde were moving to overthrow Garrosh, Craznys knew that he would have to act. Already the roads had begun to fill with various members of the Horde, and he could see the smoke from large camps begin to appear on the horizon.
Every day while he wasn't busy with his father, Craznys would stand by the main road and watch the migrations. Supply wagons and war bands would pass by, clearly on some urgent missions, and all he could do was watch them leave.
Occasionally a supply caravan would stop by their farm for some rest. The Gordraks never asked which faction they were, or who they supported. To them it didn't matter who the Warchief was, their farm would continue as it always had.
During one such supply stop, Craznys had struck up a conversation with one of the Orc escorts. He was a civilian who's farm had been burned by the Darkspear Trolls. He had a wife and three children that were following three days behind, but he was loath to leave them on the road alone for so long.
While listening to the Orc's malcontent, Craznys realized that his chance might be presenting itself to him. Asking if he'd be willing to leave the caravan, Craznys outlined his situation and persuaded the Orc to stay on his family's farm.
The Orc was more than willing to settle down in one place, even if it meant working for someone else. With an entire family able to help his parents, Craznys would'd have to worry that they'd lose the farm.
Excitedly, he presented his plan to Derthag and Vorla. They seemed enthusiastic about receiving more help, but soon saddened when they realized their adopted son would be leaving them. They had grown fond of the young Tauren in the time that he had lived with them. They wouldn't just be missing his helpful hands, but he had truly become as a son to them.
As the sky lightened with the coming morning, Craznys eased his axe in it's carrier. He knew that the weapons master had been hurried in his instruction, and that a single year was hardly enough for him to become a competent warrior. Hopefully, the way to the Crossroads village would be relatively clear and he wouldn't have to use it.
The night before his departure, Craznys had his final dinner with the Gordraks and the Axegrinders. The Axegrinders had arrived just the night before and had settled down in a large tent.
After Craznys had gone, both Orc families planned to build another house near the existing one, thereby expanding the farm and creating a truly equal partnership.
That night was one of the most conflicting of the young Tauren's life. He knew nothing of the world beyond except from rumors, and even those were few and far between. And now he was leaving everything familiar to try and find his heritage.
Try as he might, the Tauren couldn't escape the feeling that he might never see his home again. Even if he survived the long journey to his destination, there was no telling where he might end up, and if he'd be able to make it back.
When he awoke in the early morning, it had been very difficult to say his farewells. Vorla had clung to his arms, burying her face in his fur, and even Gerthag had a bit of moisture in his eyes. They had insisted he take more food than he could possibly carry, and he already had trouble fitting everything into his pack.
Eventually though, he'd been able to break away and start down the path leading to the main road.
Smoke from a village rose in the distance as the sun rose to mid morning. Craznys shaded his eyes against the glare and strained to see the source. Peering through the morning haze, he could barely make out a canvas wall, and multiple huts.
This was his first waypoint, The Crossroads on the way to his final destination. Orgimmar
Walking through the front gate of the Crossroads village, Craznys was overwhelmed with new sights and sounds. He'd never left the Gordrak's farm, besides the single trip to Taurajo, since he'd come to stay with them.
Passing through the front gates into the main street, the smells of meat cooking attracted his attention. The Tauren hadn't eaten since setting out, and six hours of walking on the road with nothing but a few snacks left him famished. He hadn't wanted to dig into his main food stores so early into the journey.
Following his nose, he passed many shops on the side of the fairway. He could see everything from animal skins, to weapons, what looked like magical supplies, and more.
Craznys was tempted to stop and browse the wares, but a slight breeze wafted more of that delicious scent towards him. Stomach rumbling, Craznys continued moving down the road.
As he approached the center of town, the Tauren realized how the town had gotten it's name. While the main road that he currently traveled continued straight, another main road just as large intersected it.
Both roads looked to be heavily traveled, which made the inn right at the corner of the intersection a prime location.
It also happened to be where the smells came from.
Walking into the Inn, Craznys was struck by an odd sense that he'd been here before. The layout of the inn tickled the back of his memory, like he should remember this exact inn.
The layout of the inn wasn't typical of most city inns. Instead of a common area, with branching hallways and stairs leading to other rooms, there was only the main room. Beds were lined against the walls, barrels full of supplies lined another wall, and a single fire provided the only warmth.
The Tauren innkeeper looked up from turning the spit over the fire, and walked towards Craznys.
"You look a bit young to be out by yourself, where is the rest of your family?" He ask, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth.
"Dead." Craznys replied, straightening his shoulders and staring straight at the innkeeper. This was his first interaction with another member of his race.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can get for you?" The Tauren replied, compassion evident in his eyes. "I'm roasting a boar one of the hunters returned with. It's usually for patrons of the inn, but I'll share some with you if you'd like."
"I would like that." Craznys grunted. The smells coming from the cooking boar almost overwhelmed his senses, and he had trouble focusing on anything else.
"Ha ha, you look famished. Here, let me get you a mug of Sweet Nectar to tide you over until it's finished." The innkeep walked over to one of the barrels and poured a mug full of some sweet smelling liquid.
"My name is Boorand Plainswind, what's yours?" He asked and extended the mug to Craznys.
"Craznys Gordrak." The Nectar, although he'd never had any on the farm, tasted oddly familiar. Craznys tried to place the memory, but it slipped from him as
Boorand looked up from the spit.
"That...that's an odd name for a Tauren. How did you come by it?" Sighing, Craznys took a seat on the ground next to the fire and began to outline the events that brought him to the inn. Finishing with his intentions of finding out who his real parents were, Craznys looked up at the other Tauren warily.
"Well, that's an interesting tale. Searching for your parents huh, and you said your destination was Orgrimmar? Why there? That's an Orc city. the place you want to go is to Thunder Bluff. If anyone can help you, it's the Druids and Shamans there." Boorand looked at Craznys over the spit.
"Haven't you seen the giant gate blocking off Mulgore from the Barrens?" Craznys asked incredulously. "Not to mention I'd have to make my way around that giant chasm just to get there."
"I suppose you do look a bit young to go traipsing off into the wilderness by yourself." The innkeeper looked at him doubtfully. "Still, you seem sure of yourself, and that axe looks like it belongs with you."
Boorand pulled out a knife and cut a small piece of the boar away, tasting it. Satisfied with the results, he called to the other patrons that the food wasready, and began to distribute chunks of it out.
"If you're really dead set on going to Orgrimmar, I suppose you could seek help in the Valley of Spirits. That's where all the Tauren live there, and you should be able to find some assistance."
Boorand looked over at Craznys. "In the meantime, are you plann-"
A shriek outside cut the Tauren off, and brought Craznys to his feet along with the rest of the patrons.
Continued shouts and screams filtered into the inn as Craznys hefted his axe and steeled himself. But before he could move towards the entrance, a bloodied Tauren woman stumbled through the door and collapsed at their feet.
"Alliance." She gasped. "Alliance are attacking."
“Go! I’ll take care of her!” Boorand shouted to Craznys as he rushed to the woman’s side. Several other patrons followed him to give aid, while the rest attempted to find whatever weapons they could.
Craznys dashed through the door, but stopped short as he took in the chaotic scene.
Several of the merchant’s huts had been set on fire, the black smoke rising high into the air. The Gryphon Master had been slain, preventing anyone from escaping or riding for help. At least fifteen Alliance invaders of almost every race were rushing up and down the streets, engaging anyone, but butchering most.
Craznys watched as a Gnome leapt from one of the guard towers onto one of the Tauren guards and repeatedly stabbed him in the neck with twin daggers.
Fury welling inside him at the unprovoked attack, Craznys tightened the grip on his axe and charged at the Gnome. Noticing the huge Tauren bearing down on him, the Gnome squeaked and scuttled backwards in an attempt to retreat.
When the Gnome saw that Craznys was gaining too quickly on him, he reached into a pouch on his belt, and threw a handful of pepper into Craznys face.
Craznys slowed his charge, trying to get the stinging substance out of his eyes. After a few moments he was able to see again, but the Gnome was nowhere in sight.
Crouched above him on a wooden beam of the guard tower, the rogue silently dropped onto the Tauren.
The instant he felt the Gnome’s weight impact his shoulders, Craznys knew what was happening. Desperate to keep the Rogue’s knives at bay, he did the only action he could think of. Craznys violently threw himself backwards, to the ground.
Caught off guard by the unusual tactic, the rogue tumbled over Craznys’ head and onto his legs.
The Tauren grinned and drew a knee up to his chest. Kicking out powerfully, he launched the Gnome away from his body and directly into the path of a stampeding kodo. He breathed a sigh of relief as the rogue was trampled into nothingness by the large animal’s hooves.
Standing up, Craznys realized that the encounter had only lasted less than a minute, and that Alliance still appeared to be overwhelming the meager defenses the town had to offer. Most of the merchants had been killed, and the civilians were being targeted next by the marauders.
Noticing Craznys, two of the attackers started to move towards him.
The human carried some sort of short weapons that were attached to his hands, and he was wearing tight fitting leather armor over his body. As he stepped towards Craznys, he moved with a grace the Tauren had never seen before in a fighter.
The other human stood a little to the side, and wore robes made from what looked like wool, but much lighter. Ornate runes and designs covered his clothes, and the staff he carried shone with a malevolent red glow.
Craznys narrowed his eyes, and tried to judge which would attack first. He thought he might be able to handle the human approaching him since his weapons had almost no reach, but he’d never fought against a magic user before. The Orc weapons master had instructed him only briefly on what to expect from them.
Before he could decide though, the monk suddenly rushed at Craznys with a flying kick to his chest. Shocked at the power from someone so much smaller than him, the Tauren stumbled back a couple feet before recovering.
Not letting up, the human followed up with a series of kicks and punches with his strange weapons that left Craznys bleeding and stunned. In a desperate attempt to create some space from this surprising manner of attack, Craznys gathered his legs under him and leaped backwards fifteen feet in a powerful jump.
Steadying himself, the Tauren charged forwards and crashed into the monk with a lowered shoulder. The human fell back, his momentum temporarily stalled. Craznys attempted to exploit the opportunity by stepping forward and drawing his axe back for a mighty swing.
Before he could get within range though, he felt a sharp pain and was suddenly unable to move his feet. Looking down he saw that his boots had been frozen to the ground by a layer of ice. Growling in defiance, Craznys struggled to free himself to no avail. Looking up he barely had time to register the blue flash before being impacted with a bolt of intense cold.
The mage had entered the fight.
Chilled, he realized with horror that his movements had become more sluggish, and so was barely able to deflect the monk’s next kick at his head. Craznys somehow managed to partially deflect the next three punches aimed at his stomach, and even managed a counter-swing that drove the monk back.
Undaunted the human laughed and circled Craznys, going for his back and the easy kill.
The monk rushed at Craznys’ undefended back. Before he could strike the killing blow however, a shimmering globe suddenly appeared around the Tauren. Startled, the monk launched a barrage of kicks and punches but to no avail.
The ice melted under Craznys’ feet, and he turned around to face the human. The globe that surrounded him appeared to be liquid of some sort, and had absorbed all of the monk’s attacks. Looking past, he could see a Forsaken female extending her hand towards him. As he watched, a faint glow extended from her hand and touched Craznys in the chest. Instantly he could feel the healing powers at work, knitting his cuts closed and stopping the bleeding.
Whirling around, the monk shouted in frustration and attempted to rush the Forsaken. A loud roar from behind her stopped him in his tracks however.
Thundering forward on a variety of mounts, three more Horde charged into the fray.
The first to engage was a bow wielding goblin. His helm appeared to be a large mouth with sharp spikes for teeth, and his bow was all bone and spikes as well. He leaped from his mount as it slowed, drew, nocked, and released his arrow before his feet hit the ground. As the monk slumped to the ground, the goblin peered through his curious looking helm and dashed towards the inn, firing arrows as he went.
Sprinting past Craznys, a Forsaken with a large purple Mohawk charged at the mage. Backing away, the mage attempted to cast a spell at him, but failed when the rogue vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Reappearing behind the mage, he quickly eviscerated the human and left him disemboweled on the ground, bleeding his lifeblood onto the sand.
The next member of the attackers wasted no time in establishing his presence in the battle. Swinging down from his mount into the middle of three Alliance, the Forsaken with a rams-head helm and a large sword extended his arms.
Instantly, purple ribbons of magic rushed out and grasped the Alliance fighters in their chests. Bringing his arms back in, the ribbons retracted, yanking their captives off their feet and towards the death knight.
Roaring in bloodlust, the Forsaken attacked the Alliance with his sword. Craznys could also occasionally see puffs of frost and diseases appear on them as the death knight used his unholy spells.
The shriek of a bird of prey drew the Tauren’s eyes skyward. He was startled to see a large hawk hurtling down towards them at breakneck speeds. Flaring its wings around twenty feet from the ground, Craznys could only stare in shock as the bird transformed into an enormous hunting cat.
As it dropped to the ground in front of an alliance, the cat lashed out with its paws, gashing the Elf’s armor and severing arties. The Elf sank to his knees, trying to stop the gushing blood. Growling, the cat lunged at him and with one ferocious bite, nearly decapitated him. Barring his teeth, the cat looked at Craznys for one terrifying instant before leaping away towards the other Alliance.
Hearing a rustle beside him, Craznys looked over and saw the female Forsaken leaping forward in a roll to join her companions. As they fought the Alliance, she would extend her hands towards them. Each time Craznys would see a faint line of smoke extending towards one, and their wounds would begin to heal. Occasionally she would also throw her arms up at one of the Alliance. Instead of healing magics though, they would get blasted by a line of crackling electricity.
Shaking himself out of his shock, Craznys noticed a hammer wielding Draenei rushing in at the cat’s unprotected back as it battled two other Alliance. Roaring, Craznys lifted his axe and charged the Draenei, crashing into him.
Transparent, angelic looking wings sprouted from the Draenei’s back, and the force of his hammer blow momentarily stunned the Tauren. Deflecting the next blow meant to cave his head in, Craznys countered with a short jab with the head of his axe. His blow impacted on the Draenei’s chest, and he followed up with another short jab to the face.
Nose bleeding, the paladin called upon his divine powers for protection from the assault. Caught in the heat of the moment, Craznys didn’t notice as his next blow impacted an invisible shield.
Startled, he tried hitting the Draenei again, but to no avail. Grinning behind his unbreakable protection, the paladin began to cast a healing spell on himself.
Racking his brain, Craznys tried to remember what his mentor had taught him about fighting paladins and their defenses. He could almost hear the Orc’s voice in his mind.
Remember, when a paladin enacts his divine shield, only a great blow will be able to shatter it. Such an attack will leave you drained, but you will have taken away his greatest defense.
Roaring, Craznys gathered all of his strength into a two-handed, overhead chop at the smug paladin. Pain jolted his hand and arms as his axe bore down through the powerful defensive shield. Gritting his teeth, Craznys continued the swing until his axe swung free.
The paladin stumbled back in shock, but quickly recovered and brought up his hammer. Exhausted from his attack, Craznys looked up and saw fear and pain on the Draenei’s face. Confused, he kept watching as blood erupted from the Draenei's stomach and his bowels spilled onto the ground.
The paladin fell face forward into the dirt, the cat standing on his back.
Looking around, Craznys could see that the battle was winding down. Most of the Alliance had been killed, and the ones that hadn't were running for their lives.
Hearing a groan and crackle of bones, Craznys looked back at the cat and saw in amazement a large Tauren standing before him instead. The Tauren’s armor was nothing like what Craznys had ever seen before.
Living tree branches sprouted from his shoulders, his helm was made entirely from an elk’s antlers, and the rest appeared to be a mix of leather and vegetation. His weapon was a brown scythe that's handle had been almost completely covered in notches.
Stepping forward, the druid shook his head and addressed Craznys.
“Thanks for the assist. Lex will never let me live it down that a dumb Draenei almost got the drop on me.” He wiped his hands on his leaf green tunic. ”You’re the only other one in this town that put up a fight it looks like, what’s your name?”
“Craznys.” Awestruck, he was barely able to utter his own name, let alone a complete sentence.
A shout from the Forsaken female made the Druid turn his head.
“Looks like she’s impatient to get these supplies to Ratchet.” He shook his head. “Work, work, work. Take care of yourself; I’d hate to see one with your heart killed off.”
As the druid turned to rejoin his comrades, Craznys shook himself from his reverie. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted after the druid.
“Wait, I didn’t even get your name. Who are you people?”
The druid looked back over his shoulder with a gleam in his eyes.
“Hi.” He grinned. “I’m Bebbit.”
Turning away, he leaped into the air. At the height of his jump, the druid transformed once more into a bird of prey, and flew off into the sky.
Dazed from the frantic fight, Craznys walked back towards the inn. All around him, the village’s inhabitants emerged from their hiding places and started to combat the fires that still burned. Before he’d gotten a few yards, most of the fires had been put out and the villagers had begun to clean up the debris.
Craznys was amazed at the speed and efficiency that they worked. He had thought that the village was doomed, and that the remaining people would abandon it for a new and safer place. Looking around that the rebuilding efforts though, he saw the error in his thinking.
Smoke still continued to rise from where the fires had burned as Craznys walked into the inn. Boorand looked up from the woman he was tending and grunted in surprise.
“I thought for sure you’d be one of the corpses out there.” He said. “I guess I underestimated you.”
“I may be young, but I was trained by a very experienced weapon master.” The comment stung Craznys more than he wanted to admit.
“It wasn’t all me though, a group of fighters came down and killed most of the attackers.” He admitted. Looking around, the younger Tauren noticed most of the patrons didn’t seem to give the fight much notice.
“What’s going to happen here now? I thought this place would be abandoned, seeing as how the Alliance were so bold as to attack one of our towns like this.”
“You really don’t know much about the world do you?” Boorand chuckled. “This wasn’t the first time they’ve attack, nor will it be the last. We’ll do what we’ve always done. We’ll rebuild, restock, and rearm. More merchants will come; this is a prime spot for trade. As I’m sure you’ve seen, we locals don’t stay down for long, and we certainly won’t be run off from our homes by some ragtag Alliance.
Boorand stood up and walked over to the fire pit where the boar was still on the spit.
“So, are you planning on staying the night before you head out? This boar is more than ready for dinner now, and you must be hungry from all that flailing about you did with that axe of yours.”
Sheepishly, Craznys nodded and joined the older Tauren by the fire.
The next morning, Craznys woke to find most of the inn’s patrons had already moved on. Helping himself to a quick breakfast, he gathered his belongings and left the inn.
The cool morning air cleared the sleep from his eyes as he looked around. He wasn’t sure how to proceed now. The roads would clearly be dangerous and he’d need to move quickly if he was to avoid being caught in the open. As he tried to puzzle out the problem, a sharp nudge in his back send the Tauren stumbling forward.
Cursing, he snatched up his axe at the ready and spun to meet his attacker.
Staring at him with large eyes, the Kodo that had trampled the Gnome sniffed him loudly.
Laughing nervously to himself, Craznys walked up to the large animal and patted its neck.
“What are you doing, huh?” He wondered aloud. “Where is your master?”
A loud snort made him turn his head. The inn’s stable master stood a few yards away, watching the exchange.
“His master was one of the merchants who got killed yesterday.” He spit on the ground. “Now I can’t get rid of the beast, and I have no room for him here. Do you want him?”
“How much would he cost?” Craznys looked back at the kodo. Its eyes seemed to be pleading with him.
“Since you helped us yesterday in that little fight, I’ll bring my price down to a single gold piece. And that’s me taking a loss.”
Fishing around in his coin pouch, Craznys found one of the coins and flipped it to the stable master. He only had a small amount of money with him, and that had just cut his wealth by half. He needed a mount though, and this friendly giant had seemed to choose him.
“Good luck with that one.” The stable master chuckled, flipping his coin in the air. “I heard he trampled someone yesterday.”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m taking him.” Craznys mumbled under his breathe.
After receiving the merchant’s tack from the stable master, Craznys mounted up and took one last look around the village. Almost all signs of the previous day’s fighting had been removed, and only a few scorch marks remained of the fires.
He could also see a caravan of merchants approaching the village from the south. Boorand was right; they would endure no matter what.
Nudging his new found friend with his heels, Craznys urged the Kodo forwards.
Orgrimmar waited.
Two weeks later, Craznys approached the rear gate of Orgrimmar. Leading his Kodo, Thunderstomp, by a rawhide tether, he gazed in awe at the enormous gate leading into the city.
Nothing more than a large opening in the massive wall surrounding the city, the twin towers to either side dwarfed anything Craznys had ever seen. A large, hide-covered bridge spanned a small river below. Gazing up at the battlements, he could see Orc and Tauren sentries patrolling along the top.
As he moved across the bridge towards the gate, Craznys felt a little unease when he saw the fully armored guards standing on either side. Ducking his head slightly as he walked up, the guards gave him a simple once over, and promptly ignored him.
Swallowing once, Craznys cleared his throat in an attempt to catch the guards attention.
"What do you want, heifer?" The largest Orc of the group growled. "Can't you see we're busy?"
"I'm not a heifer, I'm a bull!" Craznys protested, trying to stand a bit straighter under the guards hostile gazes.
"I don't care if you're a half-breed Troll. State your business or move along." The guard barked.
"Uhm, are there any Tauren in the city?" Craznys asked, a bit put off from the manner he was being treated. Even the visitors at his parents farm had all been polite, he'd never encountered this sort of brusqueness before.
All the guards just stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"Are you pullin' my leg? What kind of stupid question is that?" The lead guard asked incredulously. "This is the largest Horde city, of course there are Tauren here. Were you raised on a farm or something?"
"Actually I was." Craznys hesitantly replied. "This is my first time in a city, and I'm looking for someone who might have known my parents."
"Ok ok, I didn't need your life's story." The Orc grumbled as he fumbled around in a large sack at their feet.. "Here's a map. Be careful you don't lose it, because you won't be getting another. Now shove off!"
Thrusting the parchment into Craznys' hands, the guards all turned away and continued talking amongst themselves. Looking down at the map, Craznys gasped as he realized what he held.
The map showed the entirety of Orgrimmar in vivid detail. Names of shops and significant locations appeared over their respective locations. What drew the young Tauren's attention though, was a bright dot at the very entrance to the city that he stood at.
Testing his theory, Craznys took a few dozen steps forward. Grinning in delight, he watched as the bright dot mimicked his movements on the map. He realized that with this magical map, he wouldn't ever be lost again.
Noting what looked like a promising location for Tauren, a place called the Valley of Wisdom, the Tauren looked up and started walking. In his excitement over the map, he'd been completely oblivious to the sights around him as he moved deeper into the city.
Appearing to be carved straight out of a mountain, this section of Orgrimmar seemed to be more of a marsh than a city. The walkways were raised wooden decks, and shallow water covered most of the area. Various open huts filled with Trolls branched off from the main path.
Making his way forward, Craznys spied a tunnel leading further into the city. Checking his map to confirm it was the right direction, he continued to lead the increasingly agitated Thunderstomp along.
Taking a left as he exited the tunnel, the Tauren concluded that Orgrimmar was built in a series of enormous ravines and crevasses dug into the ground. The road he followed was narrow, but the rock walls on either side rose above his head until it strained his neck to see the top.
He followed the road until it widened out, and there his breath caught in his chest.
The path wove down between two levels, and large rawhide huts dotted the area. The upper level held a huge tent, and what looked like a market on it. The lower area was dominated by three totems, one which towered above even the tents on the upper level.
What caught and held Craznys attention though, was the dozens of Tauren that milled through the area. Bartering, training, crafting, and more, the din of activity sang like music in the young Tauren's ears.
A grin widening on his face, Craznys slowly started to walk towards the lower area. Venerable and wise looking Tauren gathered near the base of the totems, and he was sure that his answers would be found here.
As he walked up to the older Tauren, Craznys hesitated. Among the flurry of activity near the totems, six Tauren stood out from the rest. Each looked to be clad in different armor, and had a distinct air about them.
Taking a deep breath and hoping his guess would be right, Craznys walked up to a large, black horned Tauren. Clad in steel plate armor, he held his large axe as though it were an extension of his arm.
Unsure of the protocol, Craznys bowed slightly before speaking.
"Excuse me, sir. I've traveled from the Barrens in search of some information on my parents. They were lost in the Cataclysm, and I have no memory of my life before that. Is there any way that you would be able to help me?"
"Heh. I'm no seer, young one. I'm just an old warrior that trains our new recruits before they go off to fight. The Shamans and Druids in Thunderbluff is where you should be looking" The older Tauren noticed Craznys' crestfallen look as he spoke. Putting a hand on the younger Tauren's shoulder, he spoke with compassion as he continued.
"Look, I know how it is to lose family. I've lost a few myself. You look like you can handle yourself in a fight, and I see you favor the axe as well. Even if you go to Thunderbluff, who knows if they'd be able to find out who your parents were? So many were lost at that time. The best advice that I can give you is; stop living in the past, and look to the future. Go out into the world and make a name for yourself. You have a clean slate to do it."
The older Tauren looked past Craznys, and nodded at someone behind him.
"Do you know a Druid who wears trees? He looks like he's trying to get your attention." He chuckled. "But go, honor your parents by making something of yourself. Don't shame their memory by giving up your future."
Deep in though, Craznys slowly walked away. What the other Tauren said made sense, even though he wasn't particularly happy with the idea of giving up his search. He had no guarantee that even the most powerful seer would be able to find out who they were. Especially since he had no memory of them, and the location of their home was lost in the great chasm that separated the north and southern Barrens.
As he walked toward a small pond on the border between the Tauren section and the rest of the city, he slowly became aware of someone shouting his name.
"Hey! Crazyass! Over here!"
Blinking rapidly, Craznys looked around and spotted a large Tauren not ten feet away. Frantically waving his arms and jumping up and down, the Tauren was clad in various leafy tree branches and brown leather armor. A smile broke out on Craznys face as he remembered the Druid who'd fought at the Crossroads.
Craznys walked over and clasped the Druids forearm in greeting.
"Well met again! And it's Craznys, not Crazyass." He said.
"Yeah, that's what I said." Bebbit replied, grinning like a madman. "Listen, some of us heard about some fighting that's been happening in that new place. You know, with all those weird looking bears that talk?"
"Um, I can't say I've heard of it..." Craznys began, but was cut off as the Druid kept talking.
"Don't be dumb, everyone's heard of it. So I saw you and thought you'd want to come with us. There is a portal in the city that we can all go through, and then we can have some fun." Bebbit grabbed the younger Tauren's shoulder and started pulling him farther into the city, talking all the while.
Craznys wasn't sure if he wanted to go along with this clearly unstable Druid. As he let himself be lead along though, he came to the decision to take the old warrior's advice and seek new adventure. While he wasn't sure about the outcome of anything involving this Druid and his friends, he knew they were good in a fight, and that the journey would be interesting at the very least.
He was on a ledge, perhaps ten feet below what looked to be the edge of the chasm. Struggling to stand, the Tauren quickly realized he didn’t have the strength to push himself up. Trying to get a handhold on the wall, he only succeeded in creating a small cascade of pebbles onto himself.
As he lay there panting from the exertion, he tried to remember the events leading to his present predicament. No matter how much he struggled though, the only image that came to his mind was one of gigantic black wings, and the earth below him crumbling.
Another peal of thunder rent the air as the Tauren took stock of his situation.
He had no food, no water, he was too injured to even stand, and he had no idea if anyone knew where he was. Even attempting to call out was useless. His throat parched and raw, he could only manage a faint shout that got lost in the winds.
Hours turned into days, and the Tauren’s strength drained away. Time lost meaning. He’d attempt to climb the wall whenever he thought he’d rested enough, but was never able to even stand. He’d always fall back, exhausted with the effort. His mind began to wander, and lack of food and water began to make him delirious.
As he laid on his back after yet another attempt, the sounds of stones crunching under wheels faintly reached his ears. He gathered his breath and shouted as loudly as possible, trying to gain the attention of whomever the cart belonged to.
A shout in an unfamiliar language set the Tauren on edge, and he grew more apprehensive when he saw the face appear over the ledge above him.
It was the face of a human male.
Not daring to move a muscle, the Tauren stared back as the human examined his situation. He could feel the adrenaline start to flow through his body, clearing his blurry vision and giving strength to his limbs.
The human said something that sounded like a question, then chuckled to himself and shook his head. Patting the air in front of him, his face disappeared and the Tauren heard a commotion as the human rummaged through the wagon.
Appearing over the ledge again, he shouted down at the Tauren and threw an object towards him. The Tauren flinched and braced as he watched what he imagined as his death fall towards him.
As the rope hit his chest, the Tauren looked up in bewilderment. The human hurriedly motioned for him to put it around his body, and tie it off. Still confused, the Tauren complied. The face disappeared from the ledge again, but almost immediately he heard a shout and the rope tightened across his chest.
As he began to inch upward, pain flooded up his leg and spread throughout his body.
Struggling to stay conscious, the Tauren attempted to steady himself against the wall as he scraped along it. The agony proved to be too great however, and he succumbed to the darkness that beckoned.
“What in the Light am I doing?” Bennit McCafferty wondered to himself as he coaxed his horse forward. “We’re at war; I should just leave him here.”
Certainly Bennit had no love for the Horde. He’d fought against them numerous times in the past, and had lost quite a few friends over the years. As he’d looked down at the broken and helpless Tauren though, sympathy had overwhelmed his usually hardened heart. He’d grabbed whatever spare rope he had in his wagon, and began to haul the Tauren up.
He could feel the Tauren struggling when he first began, but after a few moments he’d grown still. Worried, Bennit urged his horse to pull faster. As the Tauren was dragged over the lip of the chasm, Bennit halted his steed and rushed to the cow’s side.
Uttering a quick spell of healing, Bennit’s brow furrowed as nothing happened. He attempted another spell, and grew more upset as that had no effect on the prone Tauren as well.
“It shouldn’t matter what his affiliation is!” Bennit shouted at the sky. “Allow me to heal this wounded creature!”
Thunder rumbling in the distance was the only answer he received.
Sighing, Bennit racked his mind for a solution. Remembering a farmstead he’d avoided on his trek towards this location, He decided the only option available would be to bring the unconscious Tauren to his own people.
Drinking a potion of strength, Bennit grabbed the rope and attempted to pull the Tauren into the wagon. He struggled for the good part of an hour before finally leveraging him into the bed. Leaping to the front seat, the Paladin urged his horse forward at a run, and they tore across the Barrens.
Silently cursing his sympathy, Bennit kept a sharp eye for any observers. He didn’t want to attract any more attention than he needed; he was still deep in enemy territory. He hoped the night would mask their flight, but held no illusions as to the racket they made.
“This will definitely not be in my report when I return to Stormwind.” He mumbled to himself.
The plains seemed endless as the wagon rattled and shook every time they hit a rut or bump in the ground. Bennit had started to question his sense of direction when he saw a light in the distance.
Pulling on the reins to slow them down, Bennit strained his eyes in an attempt to make out what the light was attached to.
As they drew closer, he sighed with relief when the outline of a farmhouse took shape in the dark. Bennit stopped the wagon and staked his horse to the ground.
Walking around to where the Tauren lay, still passed out, hesitation overtook him. He couldn’t just walk up to the house and announce his presence to the inhabitants. His mission required that he maintain a low profile.
After puzzling out the problem for a few minutes, he came up with a solution. Gathering sticks and brush from around his wagon, the Paladin piled them up until he had enough to start a small fire. A few minutes of straining his muscles, Bennit was able to push the Tauren out of the wagon and next to the fire pit.
Striking his flint and steel, he started the fire. Quickly searching around, he picked up a fist sized rock and hurled it at the farmhouse’s door. Not waiting to see if anyone answered, Bennit quickly pulled the stake from the ground, jumped in the wagon, and thundered off into the night.
As he drew away, one last look over his shoulder confirmed his haste had not been in vain. He saw the soft glow from inside the house as the door opened, and two hunched figures shamble out towards the prone Tauren.
Shaking his head, Bennit cursed Deathwing for the desolation caused by his flight, and for the compassion he felt for the victims in his wake.
He chuckled as he thought of the surprised looks the inhabitants of the farm must have when they found the half dead Tauren lying by the fire.
Looking back forward, Bennit once again concentrated on his mission. Hopefully no more distractions would slow him down.
Something had changed.
The Tauren slowly grew more aware of his surroundings as the haze of unconsciousness faded. He realized that instead of rock, he was laying on a bed. His feet stuck out past the foot, and the bed creaked as he shifted slightly.
Orc voices whispered softly near him, and the Tauren turned his head towards them.
An elderly Orc male and female regarded him with concern and warmth in their eyes. Looking around he saw that he was in a small house made from wood and sod. Delicious smells were coming from the fireplace and his stomach started to rumble.
“Go fetch some of that stew for him, Derthag. He must be starving.” The female turned to the Tauren. “I’m Vorla, how did you come to be lying by that fire?”
He tried to answer, but only managed a small squeak as his throat was too dry for any words.
“There there dear, don’t try to overdo it. Have some water”
Vorla picked up a pewter cup that was sitting on the nightstand, and tipped the contents into his mouth. The Tauren couldn’t remember water that tasted any sweeter, and he greedily gulped everything she poured into his mouth.
“Not too much, you’ll make yourself sick.” Vorla chided, taking the cup away. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes” He rasped. “Some.”
Derthag walked over with a bowl of stew and started to feed the Tauren. For a time, the only sounds to be heard were the slurping of soup and the crackling of the fire.
After downing the entire bowl, the Tauren attempted to raise himself up on his arms.
“No, you must rest some more. You’re still too weak.” Vorla gently placed a hand on his chest and held him down. “What is your name, and how did you come to be here?”
With a shock, the Tauren realized he couldn’t remember his own name. Ransacking his brain, he couldn’t even remember his family name, or even where he had lived before falling into the fissure.
“I…I don’t remember.” He gasped. “Everything is a blur before I fell into the ground. I don’t even recall how old I am.”
Derthag leaned forward. “Well, what do you remember? Maybe we can piece together where you came from.”
Slowly, the Tauren recounted what he could about the chasm and waking up. When he came to the part about the human, he looked up into their faces.
“How did he get me here, and why? I thought we were at war with the Alliance?”
Vorla shook her head in puzzlement.
“We don’t know anything about a human. Something crashed into our door, and we found you outside lying next to a fire when we investigated it. Are you sure that it was a human who rescued you?”
She looked over at Derthag. “I’ve never heard of that happening before.”
Derthag shook his head in agreement. “It doesn’t matter right now though, we’re just happy that you’re still alive.”
He stood up and walked over to the fire, spooning more soup into the bowl.
“When you’ve regained your strength we will take you over to Camp Taurajo and see if the other Tauren there recognize you.”
The Tauren sighed gratefully and sank his head back into the pillow. He resolved to someday pay back the kind Orcs who had taken him into their home. But first, he would need to find out who he was, and why he had ended up in the fissure to begin with.
Sweat stung his eyes as another numbing blow smashed into his parry. Setting his feet under him, Craznys parried the next overhead strike. As his opponent wound back for another attack, he saw a small opening in the defenses and tried a short jab. The Orc swiftly spun around his axe and slammed the young Tauren in the side with his shield.
Stumbling to his left, Craznys barely managed to bring his axe up for another numbing parry.
It had been a year since Deathwing ravaged the world. The Orc couple had slowly nursed the Tauren back to health, even though they could barely feed themselves. Most of their livestock had run off during the Cataclysm, and what little crops they could grow turn out stunted and barely edible.
Still, they shared what little they had with the young Tauren. After he had regained enough strength to travel, they brought him to Camp Taurajo. They hoped that one of the Tauren inhabiting the village would be able to tell them where he came from, or maybe care for him.
Shock covered their faces as they beheld Taurajo in flames.
They dared not approach with signs of Alliance all around. They also couldn't approach the enormous wall in the passage between the Barrens and Mulgore.
Disappointed, they had trudged back to the farmstead. Upon arriving, Craznys had retired for the night. His wounds still affected him and the long trip to and from the Tauren Village had exhausted him.
As he slept, Vorla and Derthag talked long into the night about his future. They eventually came to the decision to keep and raise him as their own. They had been unable to bear any children of their own, and even though the Tauren didn’t look very young, his mannerisms betrayed a young mind.
When he awoke the next day, the Tauren was confronted by the Gordraks. They explained the situation to him, and expressed their desire to become his adopted parents.
After a few hours of mulling it over, the Tauren agreed. He asked that they choose a name for him, since he was unable to recall his birth name. They decided to name him Craznys, as homage to the time he came into their lives.
“Your mind is drifting again.”
Craznys barely had time to register the growling voice before a sharp pain in his temple drove him down to his knees.
The Orc walked over and offered his hand. As Craznys grasped it and pulled himself back up, the Orc shook his head in disappointment.
“When your parents asked me to come here and teach some young Tauren about the fighting arts, I was skeptical. Now I can see I had a right to be. Your mind wanders when you should be purging any thought but that of your opponent in front of you.”
“I can’t help it.” Craznys replied as he put a hand to his head. “I just keep thinking that I should be doing more to try and discover who I am.”
The Orc grunted and moved in front of him.
“And if I send you off into the world today, you’ll be dead within a week. If the Alliance doesn’t kill you, the environment will. I have been easy on you these past couple of weeks, but I see I need to push you even further.”
The Orc put his callused hand on Craznys’ shoulder.
“I’ll make a pact with you now. If you give yourself completely to my training, listen and learn, dedicate your whole life to it, I promise I will do everything in my power to help you find your heritage.”
“Why would you do that for me?” Craznys asked in puzzlement. “You don’t even know me, I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” The Orc replied. “I owe your father a debt, and training his adopted son enough so that he won’t get himself killed in his first outing is the least I can do. Don’t mistake me, if your father hadn’t asked that I do this I wouldn’t have stayed here after your third session.”
Craznys thought for a moment, scuffing his hooves in the dirt.
“Derthag really means that much to you?”
The Orc nodded.
“Then I would be a poor son if I didn’t give him the same respect. I will submit to your training. From now until you think me worthy, I promise I will not give you a reason to regret helping Derthag.”
“Good and I won’t forget my promise. Now defend.”
The Orc lunged forward, his practice sword aiming for Craznys chest. Sliding to the right of the two handed attack, Craznys brought his axe down over top in a forceful parry. The Orc immediately reversed his attack and brought the sword over in an overhead chop.
As Craznys brought his weapon up for a parry, the Orc suddenly stopped his momentum and instead kicked out and struck the Tauren in the chest with a booted foot.
Staggering back, Craznys growled in defiance and charged forward. As he came within reach of the Orc,
he spun in a complete circle, whipping his axe around him again and again.
As he drove his mentor back, the Tauren silently vowed that he would return to his quest of finding his history. But first he would honor his agreement with the Orc weapons master, and become a warrior worth training.
The Tauren shivered in the morning's chill. The birds hadn't even awoken yet, and dew covered the ground. Craznys hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, and looked back at the place he had called home.
The past two years since he'd been rescued seemed like a blur. From being rescued in the chasm, to training with the Orc, to hearing about a fantastic new land and the weapon master being called away for it.
After the Orc had left, Craznys felt an emptiness he'd never known before. Without his training to occupy the time, Craznys suddenly had more time to think about his future than was comfortable.
He knew that once day he'd eventually have to leave and forge his own path, but he didn't want to leave his parents alone. They had been struggling before he had arrived, and with the Tauren's extra strength the Gordraks had been able to revive their homestead.
Without him, his adopted parents would have to abandon their home and seek refuge in one of the cities.
Sighing, Craznys turned away and began to trudge forward. Determination quickened his pace, and when he came to the main road, he started down it without a moments hesitation.
When news had filtered down to them that both the Alliance and some of the Horde were moving to overthrow Garrosh, Craznys knew that he would have to act. Already the roads had begun to fill with various members of the Horde, and he could see the smoke from large camps begin to appear on the horizon.
Every day while he wasn't busy with his father, Craznys would stand by the main road and watch the migrations. Supply wagons and war bands would pass by, clearly on some urgent missions, and all he could do was watch them leave.
Occasionally a supply caravan would stop by their farm for some rest. The Gordraks never asked which faction they were, or who they supported. To them it didn't matter who the Warchief was, their farm would continue as it always had.
During one such supply stop, Craznys had struck up a conversation with one of the Orc escorts. He was a civilian who's farm had been burned by the Darkspear Trolls. He had a wife and three children that were following three days behind, but he was loath to leave them on the road alone for so long.
While listening to the Orc's malcontent, Craznys realized that his chance might be presenting itself to him. Asking if he'd be willing to leave the caravan, Craznys outlined his situation and persuaded the Orc to stay on his family's farm.
The Orc was more than willing to settle down in one place, even if it meant working for someone else. With an entire family able to help his parents, Craznys would'd have to worry that they'd lose the farm.
Excitedly, he presented his plan to Derthag and Vorla. They seemed enthusiastic about receiving more help, but soon saddened when they realized their adopted son would be leaving them. They had grown fond of the young Tauren in the time that he had lived with them. They wouldn't just be missing his helpful hands, but he had truly become as a son to them.
As the sky lightened with the coming morning, Craznys eased his axe in it's carrier. He knew that the weapons master had been hurried in his instruction, and that a single year was hardly enough for him to become a competent warrior. Hopefully, the way to the Crossroads village would be relatively clear and he wouldn't have to use it.
The night before his departure, Craznys had his final dinner with the Gordraks and the Axegrinders. The Axegrinders had arrived just the night before and had settled down in a large tent.
After Craznys had gone, both Orc families planned to build another house near the existing one, thereby expanding the farm and creating a truly equal partnership.
That night was one of the most conflicting of the young Tauren's life. He knew nothing of the world beyond except from rumors, and even those were few and far between. And now he was leaving everything familiar to try and find his heritage.
Try as he might, the Tauren couldn't escape the feeling that he might never see his home again. Even if he survived the long journey to his destination, there was no telling where he might end up, and if he'd be able to make it back.
When he awoke in the early morning, it had been very difficult to say his farewells. Vorla had clung to his arms, burying her face in his fur, and even Gerthag had a bit of moisture in his eyes. They had insisted he take more food than he could possibly carry, and he already had trouble fitting everything into his pack.
Eventually though, he'd been able to break away and start down the path leading to the main road.
Smoke from a village rose in the distance as the sun rose to mid morning. Craznys shaded his eyes against the glare and strained to see the source. Peering through the morning haze, he could barely make out a canvas wall, and multiple huts.
This was his first waypoint, The Crossroads on the way to his final destination. Orgimmar
Walking through the front gate of the Crossroads village, Craznys was overwhelmed with new sights and sounds. He'd never left the Gordrak's farm, besides the single trip to Taurajo, since he'd come to stay with them.
Passing through the front gates into the main street, the smells of meat cooking attracted his attention. The Tauren hadn't eaten since setting out, and six hours of walking on the road with nothing but a few snacks left him famished. He hadn't wanted to dig into his main food stores so early into the journey.
Following his nose, he passed many shops on the side of the fairway. He could see everything from animal skins, to weapons, what looked like magical supplies, and more.
Craznys was tempted to stop and browse the wares, but a slight breeze wafted more of that delicious scent towards him. Stomach rumbling, Craznys continued moving down the road.
As he approached the center of town, the Tauren realized how the town had gotten it's name. While the main road that he currently traveled continued straight, another main road just as large intersected it.
Both roads looked to be heavily traveled, which made the inn right at the corner of the intersection a prime location.
It also happened to be where the smells came from.
Walking into the Inn, Craznys was struck by an odd sense that he'd been here before. The layout of the inn tickled the back of his memory, like he should remember this exact inn.
The layout of the inn wasn't typical of most city inns. Instead of a common area, with branching hallways and stairs leading to other rooms, there was only the main room. Beds were lined against the walls, barrels full of supplies lined another wall, and a single fire provided the only warmth.
The Tauren innkeeper looked up from turning the spit over the fire, and walked towards Craznys.
"You look a bit young to be out by yourself, where is the rest of your family?" He ask, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth.
"Dead." Craznys replied, straightening his shoulders and staring straight at the innkeeper. This was his first interaction with another member of his race.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can get for you?" The Tauren replied, compassion evident in his eyes. "I'm roasting a boar one of the hunters returned with. It's usually for patrons of the inn, but I'll share some with you if you'd like."
"I would like that." Craznys grunted. The smells coming from the cooking boar almost overwhelmed his senses, and he had trouble focusing on anything else.
"Ha ha, you look famished. Here, let me get you a mug of Sweet Nectar to tide you over until it's finished." The innkeep walked over to one of the barrels and poured a mug full of some sweet smelling liquid.
"My name is Boorand Plainswind, what's yours?" He asked and extended the mug to Craznys.
"Craznys Gordrak." The Nectar, although he'd never had any on the farm, tasted oddly familiar. Craznys tried to place the memory, but it slipped from him as
Boorand looked up from the spit.
"That...that's an odd name for a Tauren. How did you come by it?" Sighing, Craznys took a seat on the ground next to the fire and began to outline the events that brought him to the inn. Finishing with his intentions of finding out who his real parents were, Craznys looked up at the other Tauren warily.
"Well, that's an interesting tale. Searching for your parents huh, and you said your destination was Orgrimmar? Why there? That's an Orc city. the place you want to go is to Thunder Bluff. If anyone can help you, it's the Druids and Shamans there." Boorand looked at Craznys over the spit.
"Haven't you seen the giant gate blocking off Mulgore from the Barrens?" Craznys asked incredulously. "Not to mention I'd have to make my way around that giant chasm just to get there."
"I suppose you do look a bit young to go traipsing off into the wilderness by yourself." The innkeeper looked at him doubtfully. "Still, you seem sure of yourself, and that axe looks like it belongs with you."
Boorand pulled out a knife and cut a small piece of the boar away, tasting it. Satisfied with the results, he called to the other patrons that the food wasready, and began to distribute chunks of it out.
"If you're really dead set on going to Orgrimmar, I suppose you could seek help in the Valley of Spirits. That's where all the Tauren live there, and you should be able to find some assistance."
Boorand looked over at Craznys. "In the meantime, are you plann-"
A shriek outside cut the Tauren off, and brought Craznys to his feet along with the rest of the patrons.
Continued shouts and screams filtered into the inn as Craznys hefted his axe and steeled himself. But before he could move towards the entrance, a bloodied Tauren woman stumbled through the door and collapsed at their feet.
"Alliance." She gasped. "Alliance are attacking."
“Go! I’ll take care of her!” Boorand shouted to Craznys as he rushed to the woman’s side. Several other patrons followed him to give aid, while the rest attempted to find whatever weapons they could.
Craznys dashed through the door, but stopped short as he took in the chaotic scene.
Several of the merchant’s huts had been set on fire, the black smoke rising high into the air. The Gryphon Master had been slain, preventing anyone from escaping or riding for help. At least fifteen Alliance invaders of almost every race were rushing up and down the streets, engaging anyone, but butchering most.
Craznys watched as a Gnome leapt from one of the guard towers onto one of the Tauren guards and repeatedly stabbed him in the neck with twin daggers.
Fury welling inside him at the unprovoked attack, Craznys tightened the grip on his axe and charged at the Gnome. Noticing the huge Tauren bearing down on him, the Gnome squeaked and scuttled backwards in an attempt to retreat.
When the Gnome saw that Craznys was gaining too quickly on him, he reached into a pouch on his belt, and threw a handful of pepper into Craznys face.
Craznys slowed his charge, trying to get the stinging substance out of his eyes. After a few moments he was able to see again, but the Gnome was nowhere in sight.
Crouched above him on a wooden beam of the guard tower, the rogue silently dropped onto the Tauren.
The instant he felt the Gnome’s weight impact his shoulders, Craznys knew what was happening. Desperate to keep the Rogue’s knives at bay, he did the only action he could think of. Craznys violently threw himself backwards, to the ground.
Caught off guard by the unusual tactic, the rogue tumbled over Craznys’ head and onto his legs.
The Tauren grinned and drew a knee up to his chest. Kicking out powerfully, he launched the Gnome away from his body and directly into the path of a stampeding kodo. He breathed a sigh of relief as the rogue was trampled into nothingness by the large animal’s hooves.
Standing up, Craznys realized that the encounter had only lasted less than a minute, and that Alliance still appeared to be overwhelming the meager defenses the town had to offer. Most of the merchants had been killed, and the civilians were being targeted next by the marauders.
Noticing Craznys, two of the attackers started to move towards him.
The human carried some sort of short weapons that were attached to his hands, and he was wearing tight fitting leather armor over his body. As he stepped towards Craznys, he moved with a grace the Tauren had never seen before in a fighter.
The other human stood a little to the side, and wore robes made from what looked like wool, but much lighter. Ornate runes and designs covered his clothes, and the staff he carried shone with a malevolent red glow.
Craznys narrowed his eyes, and tried to judge which would attack first. He thought he might be able to handle the human approaching him since his weapons had almost no reach, but he’d never fought against a magic user before. The Orc weapons master had instructed him only briefly on what to expect from them.
Before he could decide though, the monk suddenly rushed at Craznys with a flying kick to his chest. Shocked at the power from someone so much smaller than him, the Tauren stumbled back a couple feet before recovering.
Not letting up, the human followed up with a series of kicks and punches with his strange weapons that left Craznys bleeding and stunned. In a desperate attempt to create some space from this surprising manner of attack, Craznys gathered his legs under him and leaped backwards fifteen feet in a powerful jump.
Steadying himself, the Tauren charged forwards and crashed into the monk with a lowered shoulder. The human fell back, his momentum temporarily stalled. Craznys attempted to exploit the opportunity by stepping forward and drawing his axe back for a mighty swing.
Before he could get within range though, he felt a sharp pain and was suddenly unable to move his feet. Looking down he saw that his boots had been frozen to the ground by a layer of ice. Growling in defiance, Craznys struggled to free himself to no avail. Looking up he barely had time to register the blue flash before being impacted with a bolt of intense cold.
The mage had entered the fight.
Chilled, he realized with horror that his movements had become more sluggish, and so was barely able to deflect the monk’s next kick at his head. Craznys somehow managed to partially deflect the next three punches aimed at his stomach, and even managed a counter-swing that drove the monk back.
Undaunted the human laughed and circled Craznys, going for his back and the easy kill.
The monk rushed at Craznys’ undefended back. Before he could strike the killing blow however, a shimmering globe suddenly appeared around the Tauren. Startled, the monk launched a barrage of kicks and punches but to no avail.
The ice melted under Craznys’ feet, and he turned around to face the human. The globe that surrounded him appeared to be liquid of some sort, and had absorbed all of the monk’s attacks. Looking past, he could see a Forsaken female extending her hand towards him. As he watched, a faint glow extended from her hand and touched Craznys in the chest. Instantly he could feel the healing powers at work, knitting his cuts closed and stopping the bleeding.
Whirling around, the monk shouted in frustration and attempted to rush the Forsaken. A loud roar from behind her stopped him in his tracks however.
Thundering forward on a variety of mounts, three more Horde charged into the fray.
The first to engage was a bow wielding goblin. His helm appeared to be a large mouth with sharp spikes for teeth, and his bow was all bone and spikes as well. He leaped from his mount as it slowed, drew, nocked, and released his arrow before his feet hit the ground. As the monk slumped to the ground, the goblin peered through his curious looking helm and dashed towards the inn, firing arrows as he went.
Sprinting past Craznys, a Forsaken with a large purple Mohawk charged at the mage. Backing away, the mage attempted to cast a spell at him, but failed when the rogue vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Reappearing behind the mage, he quickly eviscerated the human and left him disemboweled on the ground, bleeding his lifeblood onto the sand.
The next member of the attackers wasted no time in establishing his presence in the battle. Swinging down from his mount into the middle of three Alliance, the Forsaken with a rams-head helm and a large sword extended his arms.
Instantly, purple ribbons of magic rushed out and grasped the Alliance fighters in their chests. Bringing his arms back in, the ribbons retracted, yanking their captives off their feet and towards the death knight.
Roaring in bloodlust, the Forsaken attacked the Alliance with his sword. Craznys could also occasionally see puffs of frost and diseases appear on them as the death knight used his unholy spells.
The shriek of a bird of prey drew the Tauren’s eyes skyward. He was startled to see a large hawk hurtling down towards them at breakneck speeds. Flaring its wings around twenty feet from the ground, Craznys could only stare in shock as the bird transformed into an enormous hunting cat.
As it dropped to the ground in front of an alliance, the cat lashed out with its paws, gashing the Elf’s armor and severing arties. The Elf sank to his knees, trying to stop the gushing blood. Growling, the cat lunged at him and with one ferocious bite, nearly decapitated him. Barring his teeth, the cat looked at Craznys for one terrifying instant before leaping away towards the other Alliance.
Hearing a rustle beside him, Craznys looked over and saw the female Forsaken leaping forward in a roll to join her companions. As they fought the Alliance, she would extend her hands towards them. Each time Craznys would see a faint line of smoke extending towards one, and their wounds would begin to heal. Occasionally she would also throw her arms up at one of the Alliance. Instead of healing magics though, they would get blasted by a line of crackling electricity.
Shaking himself out of his shock, Craznys noticed a hammer wielding Draenei rushing in at the cat’s unprotected back as it battled two other Alliance. Roaring, Craznys lifted his axe and charged the Draenei, crashing into him.
Transparent, angelic looking wings sprouted from the Draenei’s back, and the force of his hammer blow momentarily stunned the Tauren. Deflecting the next blow meant to cave his head in, Craznys countered with a short jab with the head of his axe. His blow impacted on the Draenei’s chest, and he followed up with another short jab to the face.
Nose bleeding, the paladin called upon his divine powers for protection from the assault. Caught in the heat of the moment, Craznys didn’t notice as his next blow impacted an invisible shield.
Startled, he tried hitting the Draenei again, but to no avail. Grinning behind his unbreakable protection, the paladin began to cast a healing spell on himself.
Racking his brain, Craznys tried to remember what his mentor had taught him about fighting paladins and their defenses. He could almost hear the Orc’s voice in his mind.
Remember, when a paladin enacts his divine shield, only a great blow will be able to shatter it. Such an attack will leave you drained, but you will have taken away his greatest defense.
Roaring, Craznys gathered all of his strength into a two-handed, overhead chop at the smug paladin. Pain jolted his hand and arms as his axe bore down through the powerful defensive shield. Gritting his teeth, Craznys continued the swing until his axe swung free.
The paladin stumbled back in shock, but quickly recovered and brought up his hammer. Exhausted from his attack, Craznys looked up and saw fear and pain on the Draenei’s face. Confused, he kept watching as blood erupted from the Draenei's stomach and his bowels spilled onto the ground.
The paladin fell face forward into the dirt, the cat standing on his back.
Looking around, Craznys could see that the battle was winding down. Most of the Alliance had been killed, and the ones that hadn't were running for their lives.
Hearing a groan and crackle of bones, Craznys looked back at the cat and saw in amazement a large Tauren standing before him instead. The Tauren’s armor was nothing like what Craznys had ever seen before.
Living tree branches sprouted from his shoulders, his helm was made entirely from an elk’s antlers, and the rest appeared to be a mix of leather and vegetation. His weapon was a brown scythe that's handle had been almost completely covered in notches.
Stepping forward, the druid shook his head and addressed Craznys.
“Thanks for the assist. Lex will never let me live it down that a dumb Draenei almost got the drop on me.” He wiped his hands on his leaf green tunic. ”You’re the only other one in this town that put up a fight it looks like, what’s your name?”
“Craznys.” Awestruck, he was barely able to utter his own name, let alone a complete sentence.
A shout from the Forsaken female made the Druid turn his head.
“Looks like she’s impatient to get these supplies to Ratchet.” He shook his head. “Work, work, work. Take care of yourself; I’d hate to see one with your heart killed off.”
As the druid turned to rejoin his comrades, Craznys shook himself from his reverie. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted after the druid.
“Wait, I didn’t even get your name. Who are you people?”
The druid looked back over his shoulder with a gleam in his eyes.
“Hi.” He grinned. “I’m Bebbit.”
Turning away, he leaped into the air. At the height of his jump, the druid transformed once more into a bird of prey, and flew off into the sky.
Dazed from the frantic fight, Craznys walked back towards the inn. All around him, the village’s inhabitants emerged from their hiding places and started to combat the fires that still burned. Before he’d gotten a few yards, most of the fires had been put out and the villagers had begun to clean up the debris.
Craznys was amazed at the speed and efficiency that they worked. He had thought that the village was doomed, and that the remaining people would abandon it for a new and safer place. Looking around that the rebuilding efforts though, he saw the error in his thinking.
Smoke still continued to rise from where the fires had burned as Craznys walked into the inn. Boorand looked up from the woman he was tending and grunted in surprise.
“I thought for sure you’d be one of the corpses out there.” He said. “I guess I underestimated you.”
“I may be young, but I was trained by a very experienced weapon master.” The comment stung Craznys more than he wanted to admit.
“It wasn’t all me though, a group of fighters came down and killed most of the attackers.” He admitted. Looking around, the younger Tauren noticed most of the patrons didn’t seem to give the fight much notice.
“What’s going to happen here now? I thought this place would be abandoned, seeing as how the Alliance were so bold as to attack one of our towns like this.”
“You really don’t know much about the world do you?” Boorand chuckled. “This wasn’t the first time they’ve attack, nor will it be the last. We’ll do what we’ve always done. We’ll rebuild, restock, and rearm. More merchants will come; this is a prime spot for trade. As I’m sure you’ve seen, we locals don’t stay down for long, and we certainly won’t be run off from our homes by some ragtag Alliance.
Boorand stood up and walked over to the fire pit where the boar was still on the spit.
“So, are you planning on staying the night before you head out? This boar is more than ready for dinner now, and you must be hungry from all that flailing about you did with that axe of yours.”
Sheepishly, Craznys nodded and joined the older Tauren by the fire.
The next morning, Craznys woke to find most of the inn’s patrons had already moved on. Helping himself to a quick breakfast, he gathered his belongings and left the inn.
The cool morning air cleared the sleep from his eyes as he looked around. He wasn’t sure how to proceed now. The roads would clearly be dangerous and he’d need to move quickly if he was to avoid being caught in the open. As he tried to puzzle out the problem, a sharp nudge in his back send the Tauren stumbling forward.
Cursing, he snatched up his axe at the ready and spun to meet his attacker.
Staring at him with large eyes, the Kodo that had trampled the Gnome sniffed him loudly.
Laughing nervously to himself, Craznys walked up to the large animal and patted its neck.
“What are you doing, huh?” He wondered aloud. “Where is your master?”
A loud snort made him turn his head. The inn’s stable master stood a few yards away, watching the exchange.
“His master was one of the merchants who got killed yesterday.” He spit on the ground. “Now I can’t get rid of the beast, and I have no room for him here. Do you want him?”
“How much would he cost?” Craznys looked back at the kodo. Its eyes seemed to be pleading with him.
“Since you helped us yesterday in that little fight, I’ll bring my price down to a single gold piece. And that’s me taking a loss.”
Fishing around in his coin pouch, Craznys found one of the coins and flipped it to the stable master. He only had a small amount of money with him, and that had just cut his wealth by half. He needed a mount though, and this friendly giant had seemed to choose him.
“Good luck with that one.” The stable master chuckled, flipping his coin in the air. “I heard he trampled someone yesterday.”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m taking him.” Craznys mumbled under his breathe.
After receiving the merchant’s tack from the stable master, Craznys mounted up and took one last look around the village. Almost all signs of the previous day’s fighting had been removed, and only a few scorch marks remained of the fires.
He could also see a caravan of merchants approaching the village from the south. Boorand was right; they would endure no matter what.
Nudging his new found friend with his heels, Craznys urged the Kodo forwards.
Orgrimmar waited.
Two weeks later, Craznys approached the rear gate of Orgrimmar. Leading his Kodo, Thunderstomp, by a rawhide tether, he gazed in awe at the enormous gate leading into the city.
Nothing more than a large opening in the massive wall surrounding the city, the twin towers to either side dwarfed anything Craznys had ever seen. A large, hide-covered bridge spanned a small river below. Gazing up at the battlements, he could see Orc and Tauren sentries patrolling along the top.
As he moved across the bridge towards the gate, Craznys felt a little unease when he saw the fully armored guards standing on either side. Ducking his head slightly as he walked up, the guards gave him a simple once over, and promptly ignored him.
Swallowing once, Craznys cleared his throat in an attempt to catch the guards attention.
"What do you want, heifer?" The largest Orc of the group growled. "Can't you see we're busy?"
"I'm not a heifer, I'm a bull!" Craznys protested, trying to stand a bit straighter under the guards hostile gazes.
"I don't care if you're a half-breed Troll. State your business or move along." The guard barked.
"Uhm, are there any Tauren in the city?" Craznys asked, a bit put off from the manner he was being treated. Even the visitors at his parents farm had all been polite, he'd never encountered this sort of brusqueness before.
All the guards just stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"Are you pullin' my leg? What kind of stupid question is that?" The lead guard asked incredulously. "This is the largest Horde city, of course there are Tauren here. Were you raised on a farm or something?"
"Actually I was." Craznys hesitantly replied. "This is my first time in a city, and I'm looking for someone who might have known my parents."
"Ok ok, I didn't need your life's story." The Orc grumbled as he fumbled around in a large sack at their feet.. "Here's a map. Be careful you don't lose it, because you won't be getting another. Now shove off!"
Thrusting the parchment into Craznys' hands, the guards all turned away and continued talking amongst themselves. Looking down at the map, Craznys gasped as he realized what he held.
The map showed the entirety of Orgrimmar in vivid detail. Names of shops and significant locations appeared over their respective locations. What drew the young Tauren's attention though, was a bright dot at the very entrance to the city that he stood at.
Testing his theory, Craznys took a few dozen steps forward. Grinning in delight, he watched as the bright dot mimicked his movements on the map. He realized that with this magical map, he wouldn't ever be lost again.
Noting what looked like a promising location for Tauren, a place called the Valley of Wisdom, the Tauren looked up and started walking. In his excitement over the map, he'd been completely oblivious to the sights around him as he moved deeper into the city.
Appearing to be carved straight out of a mountain, this section of Orgrimmar seemed to be more of a marsh than a city. The walkways were raised wooden decks, and shallow water covered most of the area. Various open huts filled with Trolls branched off from the main path.
Making his way forward, Craznys spied a tunnel leading further into the city. Checking his map to confirm it was the right direction, he continued to lead the increasingly agitated Thunderstomp along.
Taking a left as he exited the tunnel, the Tauren concluded that Orgrimmar was built in a series of enormous ravines and crevasses dug into the ground. The road he followed was narrow, but the rock walls on either side rose above his head until it strained his neck to see the top.
He followed the road until it widened out, and there his breath caught in his chest.
The path wove down between two levels, and large rawhide huts dotted the area. The upper level held a huge tent, and what looked like a market on it. The lower area was dominated by three totems, one which towered above even the tents on the upper level.
What caught and held Craznys attention though, was the dozens of Tauren that milled through the area. Bartering, training, crafting, and more, the din of activity sang like music in the young Tauren's ears.
A grin widening on his face, Craznys slowly started to walk towards the lower area. Venerable and wise looking Tauren gathered near the base of the totems, and he was sure that his answers would be found here.
As he walked up to the older Tauren, Craznys hesitated. Among the flurry of activity near the totems, six Tauren stood out from the rest. Each looked to be clad in different armor, and had a distinct air about them.
Taking a deep breath and hoping his guess would be right, Craznys walked up to a large, black horned Tauren. Clad in steel plate armor, he held his large axe as though it were an extension of his arm.
Unsure of the protocol, Craznys bowed slightly before speaking.
"Excuse me, sir. I've traveled from the Barrens in search of some information on my parents. They were lost in the Cataclysm, and I have no memory of my life before that. Is there any way that you would be able to help me?"
"Heh. I'm no seer, young one. I'm just an old warrior that trains our new recruits before they go off to fight. The Shamans and Druids in Thunderbluff is where you should be looking" The older Tauren noticed Craznys' crestfallen look as he spoke. Putting a hand on the younger Tauren's shoulder, he spoke with compassion as he continued.
"Look, I know how it is to lose family. I've lost a few myself. You look like you can handle yourself in a fight, and I see you favor the axe as well. Even if you go to Thunderbluff, who knows if they'd be able to find out who your parents were? So many were lost at that time. The best advice that I can give you is; stop living in the past, and look to the future. Go out into the world and make a name for yourself. You have a clean slate to do it."
The older Tauren looked past Craznys, and nodded at someone behind him.
"Do you know a Druid who wears trees? He looks like he's trying to get your attention." He chuckled. "But go, honor your parents by making something of yourself. Don't shame their memory by giving up your future."
Deep in though, Craznys slowly walked away. What the other Tauren said made sense, even though he wasn't particularly happy with the idea of giving up his search. He had no guarantee that even the most powerful seer would be able to find out who they were. Especially since he had no memory of them, and the location of their home was lost in the great chasm that separated the north and southern Barrens.
As he walked toward a small pond on the border between the Tauren section and the rest of the city, he slowly became aware of someone shouting his name.
"Hey! Crazyass! Over here!"
Blinking rapidly, Craznys looked around and spotted a large Tauren not ten feet away. Frantically waving his arms and jumping up and down, the Tauren was clad in various leafy tree branches and brown leather armor. A smile broke out on Craznys face as he remembered the Druid who'd fought at the Crossroads.
Craznys walked over and clasped the Druids forearm in greeting.
"Well met again! And it's Craznys, not Crazyass." He said.
"Yeah, that's what I said." Bebbit replied, grinning like a madman. "Listen, some of us heard about some fighting that's been happening in that new place. You know, with all those weird looking bears that talk?"
"Um, I can't say I've heard of it..." Craznys began, but was cut off as the Druid kept talking.
"Don't be dumb, everyone's heard of it. So I saw you and thought you'd want to come with us. There is a portal in the city that we can all go through, and then we can have some fun." Bebbit grabbed the younger Tauren's shoulder and started pulling him farther into the city, talking all the while.
Craznys wasn't sure if he wanted to go along with this clearly unstable Druid. As he let himself be lead along though, he came to the decision to take the old warrior's advice and seek new adventure. While he wasn't sure about the outcome of anything involving this Druid and his friends, he knew they were good in a fight, and that the journey would be interesting at the very least.
