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[-Part 4 (Finale): A Painful Beginning of it All-]

-Part 4 (Finale): A Painful Beginning of it All-

The Draenei that encroached the territory border in Gorgrond was put down by the axe of the Orcs. The losses were many, but for the Draenei it was far more. Side by side, the Orcs fought like enraged direwolves protecting their den. They fought with a purpose, home, family, for the sake of honor and the assurance of survival of their way of life.

At the next day, the Draenei came again and only to be put down once more. Scouts were deployed and the news they brought was dire. The bulk of the army was on the march, led by their fanatical mistress of the Light, Yrel. Defenses were erected and all available Orcs able to fight was armed.

Broshgar and Sahna took whatever peace they had left together the night before the coming storm. It was quiet in their hovel and they've recently dined. Little Ghena's belly was full and she quickly fell asleep. The ever-loving parents laid their child to rest in her crib and gazed at her. Sahna laid her hand upon Broshgar's hand upon her shoulder, leaning towards him.

"What are we going to do, Broshgar, I don't want our baby girl to-"
"She won't, beloved, I will make sure of it."
"But what if, Broshgar, what if you fall and we all lay at the ground with pools of blood beneath us, who will protect our child?"

It was now he wished he had an easy answer, an answer he wished that he could give her. He could feel her become tense and he hugged her tight, his gaze still upon the precious jewel of his entire world. Closing his eyes, he gave a silent plea to the Spirits.

'Let all and anything happen to me.. but not my daughter..'

Sahna and Broshgar made love to one another as if it would might be the last moments of them together and later they fell asleep.

*-Axes, mauls and swords clashed in the dark, the skies were set ablaze and everything was but a haze, bodies of both Draenei and Orc littered the ground, dismembered, disemboweled, pools of blood. He was moving forward and then he began to see the faces of his friends and comrades' bodies. It was as if he was guided in this dream. Then.. as if the world was tore out from him. Sahna and Ghena. He fell to his knees and cried out in tormented agony…-*

Broshgar woke up and was met with the rays of the rising sun, it was an early morning, there were faint sounds of commotions outside already. There was a banging on the door and he rose up, rubbing off the sleep from his eyes. Sahna turned around in her deep sleep. Another banging and quickly dressed himself up in his armor before he went to open the door.

"Broshgar, we are preparing for the Draenei, you are needed now more than ever. I need our Draenei Reaver."

It was Orma Wolftooth, dressed up in her armor and the bow and the quiver at her back.

"I'll be with you in a moment."

He closed the door and turned, seeing Sahna already up and looking at him with only the sheets as coverage of her body. They exchanged gazes and as he was to reach for the axes, she dropped the sheets and rushed towards him, hugging him tight and giving him a few kisses before he was about to leave through the door, but he stopped and looked past his shoulder at her.

"I love you, Sahna."
"And I you."

The battle had come and it was all but a hellish sight, Broshgar's group at thirty men and women in the beginnig was reduced to twelve at the very first few hours. Orma fought valiently of them all before she was stabbed to death repeatidly by Draenic swords. She was granted a good death and then Broshgar knew it was his time to lead. With a bellowing cry, he managed to rally the rest of his group and formed a loose line formation to face against the next wave. The tide came at them rapidly and as they began to come near, he loaded his voice and gave out a battlecry only a Warsong knew it would mean. They charged, ready to give their life willingly.

Sahna joined the group with the rest of the reinforcements and it didn't bother Broshgar, he knew it was supposed to be. They fought together as it would seem like hours, Broshgar's group was reduced to only a few now and the reinforcements dwindled. Broshgar and Sahna exchanged glances when there was an opening, they took this moment to share a few words.

"Ghena?"
"She's safe, with a friend."

Nodding in approvement, the opening had already closed and another wave of Draenei came at them. Knowing that his daughter is safe made him more determined. There was a slight hope that they would win.

After they put down the last of the wave, there was a silence and once more both Broshgar and Sahna exchanged glances. The silence was broken with a sound of a falling arrow. His world fell apart.

'Sahna... No...'

Rage, anger and all the kind rose up within him, turning his vision red.

[*A letter that would have been written in Orcish language.*]

*A letter that would have been written in Orcish language.*

"To the leader of the Red Blade Clan. My name is Broshgar Bloodhammer of the Warsong Clan and I request humbly an audience with you.
Since I couldn't find nor reach out to any of the Clan, I hereby put this letter in order for either you or any of your clan to find here in Razor Hill.
After a thorough deliberation and the moments I've met and talked to your clan members earlier before your departure, I intend to offer you my pledge, if you'll have me.
I was being told that you are on a voyage to a place called Northrend, which I have never heard of.
I shall pray to the Spirits for both of you and your clan's well being and that your journey will be eventful.

Strength and Honor,
-Broshgar Bloodhammer"

*Along is a drawn sigil of the Warsong Clan's mark and beside it is a hammer painted in red that seemed to be dripping, apparently his own mark.*

[-Part 3: "Ghena"-]

-Part 3: "Ghena"-

Months have passed since Broshgar's group managed to find safe harbor in Gorgrond. Sahna was overjoyed of Broshgar's return.

The two female shamans hurried inside the tent to assist their fellow shaman, providing with water and clean sheets, for it was this night that Sahna was to give birth. Broshgar sat beside Sahna and held her hand as she tried to push with all the strength she possessed. She groaned loudly and screamed a few times when she pushed. The more pain she felt, the harder she clenched at Broshgar's hand. He didn't pay much attention to the pain in his hand, but surely he knew how strong she was.

Nodding her head to her fellow assisting Shamans, they withdrew for the night and left the tent. Sahna took the moment to breathe before the shaman signaled her to push. "A little more, young one, I see the head."

Broshgar couldn't help himself but smile and then turned his gaze to Sahna. "You can do it, beloved."

They shared a brief look upon eachother and Sahna nodded, the tiredness had almost taken it's toll upon her. She took three deep breathes and then pushed once more. The female Shaman took a clean sheet and laid it between Sahna's legs before giving the newborn support of it's neck.

"Here it comes, one more push!", the Shaman spoke. And with one more push, Sahna screamed out and gave this last push everything she had. There...

A cry of new birth filled the tent this very night and the Shaman cut the cord before tucking it in with the clean sheet, holding it in her arms before delivering it to Broshgar who received it with somewhat shaken arms. "Congratulations, it is a healthy girl."

Broshgar couldn't help himself but to smile even wider, this is surely the most beautiful thing he ever saw, his daughter. Pride swelled within him. He leaned closer to Sahna to show her their daughter. Tears swelled up from her eyes and she took her in to her own arms, providing a nipple for the newborn to suckle from.

"She's.. she's so beautiful.."
"Just like her mother."

The female shaman had left the tent to leave the couple for a moment to let them have their time alone. Broshgar laid an arm around Sahna and both of them gazed upon their newborn. Flashbacks from his youth came to Broshgar, oh how little he remembered from the time when he was but a small child. It was times like this his parents were alive.

"W-What should we call her..?"
Broshgar thought about it for a moment and then answered, "Ghena".

Sahna nodded in approval, allowing Ghena to continue to suckle some more.

"Ghena, it's a strong name."

After some rest within the Shaman's tent until morning, the two newly-made parents left with their child. It was a joyous occasion. When they came home to their new hovel inside the Citadel they began first to put little Ghena in her very first crib, Sahna sat next to and hummed a song for her while Broshgar did some dinner by the fireplace.

It was a peaceful moment. Until one of the Grunts rushed inside. "Broshgar! You are needed outside the gates, some warriors are assembling as we speak!"
The two parents shared a look and Sahna gave Broshgar a nod, as if she understood, and he took the great-axe hung by the wall before following the grunt outside the gates with the others.

[Name:]

Name: Broshgar Bloodhammer
Alias: "Brosh"
Rank: Grunt

Age: 32 / Adult
Gender: Male
Race: Mag'har Orc
Clan: Warsong Clan
Class: Warrior
Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Family: Parents: Deceased. Mate: Deceased. Close-of-kin: Non-existent.
Known Friends: None.
Known Enemies: None.

Appearance:
Black long hair accompanied with beard. Dark Brown Eyes. A robust body type, broad-shouldered and athletical. Some smaller scars across the torso and medium-sized scars on the back, as if made by lashes and/or blades. Brown skin.

Personality:
Somewhat laid-back due to recent of events in regard of his past life on Draenor. An Orc who has honor in high regard. He ain't the one who begins a conversation first-hand.

History:
Broshgar had a mother and a father most of his childhood and all the way to his late teens. The mother died in a raid by Lightbound Draenei during his teens and the father was taken by a long-term sickness that made him cough violently and died by fluids in his lungs. His life was spent in Nagrand and lived there until it was ransacked by the fanatical Draenei. Currently lives in the outskirts of Orgrimmar and conducting business in Razor Hill, selling pelts and hides to make a living.

Things you may know about this character:
None thus far.

Things you may not know about this character:
None thus far.

Memorable Quotes:
None thus far.

Other Information:
None.

[-Part 2: Ashes-]

-Part 2: Ashes-

The scouting took days than Broshgar assumed, at times he and his party encountered a few of the fanatic Draenei. Some were tortured for information and some were executed by beheading and the heads were sent to the nearest Draenei settlement to intimidate them from encroaching Orc territory.

At the Orcs hidden camp, not far from the border that crosses from Talador and in to Nagrand, they rested and recuperated from their latest endeavor. They were eighteen when they began and now they are eleven. Seven Orcs had been killed during the operation. Azuk, the leader of this party, was also killed. Next in line was an Orc woman, who originally hailed from the Frostwolf Clan. Orma Wolftooth.

She was more lenient than Azuk and she had more of a strategic thinking, more than Broshgar and some others were used to. They were used to direct approaches, fighting and delivering immediate blows. But for Orma it was more about putting all that force on more important targets.

They were headed futher in the forest of Talador and now they were to be raiding places of importance. The group found a few places where the Draenei had been stockpiling food and various resources needed for their war machines and their upcoming 'crusade'. Raiding these would hamper the Draenei and, perhaps, send a clear message.

The raiding went on for days until they were ambushed and they were forced to withdraw. Six Orcs were now alive and to sum it all up, the raiding was somewhat successful and they disassembled their camp to head back in to Nagrand to head home.

Broshgar was tired and he received some new scars from all the commotion that went on for days, perhaps even weeks. Riding upon a direwolf, he clutched the amulet he was given by Sahna that hung around his neck. He couldn't wait to feel her warmth again and to receive decent well-cooked meals she did for him.

However, they were met with a dark smoke coming from the village they lived in and they rode with all haste. Bodies littered around the village, both Orcs and Draenei. Their village has been reduced to ashes. Some huts were burned down.

Broshgar couldn't refrain himself to run toward his hut, which seems to have nearly burned down, and he searched for her inside the rubble. No corpse. It became a relief for him and he felt somewhere deep inside that she was still alive. The others had not the same luck, it was either a child of theirs that was killed, a close relative or a special someone. Orma lost her mate and it nearly broke her down in spirit.

The sight of their home destroyed couldn't be described in mere words. After they've spent awhile, tending to each of their own, they were approached by three Orcs that had sailed from Frostridge. According to them, the village was burned down four days ago and it all happened over a night. They did however help some of the survivors and told them to head north in to Gorgrond, Hellsreach Citadel.

Hellsreach Citadel. That's where the Warchief spent most of his years, as Broshgar remembered. With a rekindled hope, the others began to pack whatever precious belongings they could find whole, sat upon their direwolves and rode north.

The venture north wasn't easy, they had to take the road through the northern forest of Talador, which was very close to Draenei borders. It occured to them that some might even not reach their destination. It was a risk they were very willing to take. Nothing would stop them from reaching the Citadel.

Broshgar clutched the amulet once more, praying to the Spirits that he would see his beloved Sahna again.

[-Part 1: The Surprise-]

-Part 1: The Surprise-

"Don't tell him anything, Geka, I want to surprise him."
"Oh I can't wait to see Broshgar's face when you tell him!"

Sahna and Geka giggled while they carried their baskets from the fields and heading back home. The skies were blue with some white Clouds here and there, it was noon. Nagrand was anything but home to the Warsong Clan and it was here, not far from the main camp, where Broshgar and some villagers lived, making a life of their own just like any other Orc.

Broshgar was playing some bone dice with his fellow companions and there were some spectators observing the game. The stakes has risen since they started playing, multiple coins of copper, silver and gold littered the board.

"Don't rely too much on the Spirits, Broshgar, I will have that purse of gold!"

A chuckle escaped him.

"We'll see who'll win, Darok, but I intend to keep my purse of gold.. and yours."

There was a moment of suspense and Darok tossed his dice, it was a fair number he got. It made him absolute certain that Broshgar won't win over his numbers. Darok gave him the dices and Broshgar took them, shaking them in his fist and blows some air in it before tossing the dices down at the board.

Darok groaned out loudly and covered his eyes, leaning backward. Broshgar raised from his chair and shouted with victory in his throat.

"Mine! All mine!"

The spectators cheered him on and Broshgar slided the gold from the board with his arms, down in to his somewhat larger purse. Darok was furious and raised himself from his chair, tossing the board aside in rage and left. To Broshgar however, he couldn't help but laugh, it was such a sweet victory.

All of a sudden he was jumped at from behind with arms around his neck, a laughter which he remembered all to well. Sahna.
"I knew I would find you here, you oaf!"

Broshgar couldn't help but chuckle and lowered Sahna to the ground. He turned and only to grasp her hands within his larger hands and gaze in to her brown eyes. They shared a lovely moment.

"Sahna, my beloved companion in my life, how did it go out there in the fields?"
Her hands went from his to his arms, caressing them gently as she looked in his eyes with a smile.

"We didn't encounter any Draenei this time, but we managed as always."
He gave a brief nod and without anything to tell they went home hand in hand.

Night has come down and both of them sat by the fire, dining a meal of roasted talbuk and some spiced bread.
Sahna looked at him from time to time, hoping for him to notice, she didn't know how to tell him.

"Azuk stopped by today", Broshgar said, "He wanted me to take a group of scouts and venture east to the forest in Talador".
"Oh.. are you going to be there long?", Sahna said with worry in her voice.

Broshgar couldn't help but look at her and embrace her hands with his left hand. Deep down in him, he knew that she was worried to lose him, despite the tensions that had risen with the Draenei and their renewed fanatical faith. The Clan had lost many of their sons and daughters to the doctrine and it's vile ways.

"It's just for a couple of days, my beloved, I am going to be al--"
"Broshgar..."

There was a quiet moment and Sahna leaned forward towards Broshgar, cuddling up herself to his chest and having his arms around her. It made her feel safe, always. Broshgar didn't say a word and just stared at the fire.

"Broshgar.. I.. I need to tell you something".
He laid his eyes at her and they looked upon eachother, she guided one of his hands to her belly and there…

Immediately Broshgar understood. He gazed at her belly a brief moment and then back at her, his lips forming to a wide smile.
Sahna's eyes welled up with tears of happiness and a smile soon followed. Their foreheads met and both of them closed their eyes, enjoying the silence together.

"The Spirits has blessed us..."
"Truly, my beloved Broshgar, truly."

[-Part 3: The Proving of Worth-]

-Part 3: The Proving of Worth-

Another restless night passed and it began to be a thing to be accustomed to, the heat, the sweat and no chilly winds. It became too much and he rose from the bed, sitting up and rubbing off the sweat from his forehead. He gazed out through the window, it was nearly morning.

Broshgar rose from the bed and walked to the table, grabbing the pitcher filled with water and poured it over him. The water was a bit cool from last night and he thanked the Spirits for it. He stood there for a moment and felt the water run down along his hair, his beard, his back and chest.

As he went outside his hovel, he looked around and stretched his back. The tiredness was still there but there were days that he could feel it more than the other day. Today it was manageable.

He began the day by looking to the pelts and skins he hung up at the string, counting up those that were finished for selling and some that needed some more time to dry. The ones that were finished, he laid them atop of another and then tied them with a tiny rope.

Another set and he could venture to Razor Hill once more. A smirk formed on his lips, he counted up to three coin purses since those last times he did some trading. Yet.. he couldn't help but feel a bit of regret spending some coins at the Innkeep on Razor Hill.

It occured to him that he's spending coins more often and staying there far longer. It did him good to speak with his fellow kin, after so many days and weeks of self-isolation. The Red Blade Clan. It raised an overwhelming inquisitive sensation within him, an eagerness to know more about them. Two of them, fellow Orcs, were kind enough to provide him the information of the current events and some.. history lessons.

They told him of their version in regard of Grommash Hellscream and his son, Garrosh. It confused him, these strange turn of events. His timeline exists thanks to one Orc. It occured to him now, did his alternate self live in this time?

Broshgar shook his head, it was foolish to believe that there are two of the same people in the same timeline. It brought him some headache thinking about it.

The Red Blade Clan, why did it peaked his interest so much? He thought about it for a moment and then he had his answer. At his first meeting with them, he felt himself belonging with them.

Now he had to put his thoughts elsewhere and prepare the bow and refill the quiver with arrows, it was time to gather more pelts. Maybe.. just maybe.. with the Spirits' blessing, he could gather for the Clan aswell.

It filled him with determination more than usual and he found himself setting off with an eagerness of proving his worth.

[-Part 2: Remember-]

-Part 2: Remember-

The night came like a welcoming breeze through the tall grass. Although for some it was a harsh climate but to Broshgar it reminded him of home. Some months had passed since he came to this strange place. Durotar.

Outside the Orcish city of Orgrimmar, not far from it, he took the liberty to build himself a small hut for himself. All he ever needed was a bed, a table and two chairs, a rug on the floor and a fireplace to cook his meals and/or to keep himself warm on colder nights. But this night… It was a pleasent temperature.

He laid down on the arid earth and gazed upon the stars above, allowing himself a mere distraction of thought and remembrance. At times he could almost swear that he heard his own thoughts of how the memories went on and on.

"Father... "

--------------

"Father!"

"…Mmm..."

"I want to hear a story!"

"Well.. you woke me up from my sleep, so.. might aswell.."

"Tell me of Grommash Hellscream and how he fought against the demons!"

"That tale again, Broshgar..? I've told you that so many times.."

"I know, but I love that story!"

"Alright, alright, now.. let us lit a candle and I tell you how our great Warchief came to be.."

--------------

Broshgar couldn't help himself but to chuckle at the memory, oh how he loved his father telling him that tale. At the same time, he couldn't help but to miss him and all the fun they had as father and son. They were best friends.

The memory played on until another memory came to. The smile faded and he locked his gaze upon a bright star in the sky.

--------------

Fire. Blood. Sounds of swords and axes clashing against one another and screams of pain, anger combined.
Broshgar was but a teenager at the time and he had learned how to fight early in his years. The Draenei had begun to break the peace because of their new-found fanaticism.

"Broshgar!"
"Father!"
"Keep fighting, son, we have to find your mother!"

--------------

Broshgar rose from the earth and he didn't wish to remember about what happened. He went inside his hut and stood in front of the fireplace, gazing in to the fire while he roasted the pork he butchered from a pig earlier today. The memory wanted to come forth, but Broshgar shook his head. No. It remains in the past and should stay there in the past.

With a rusty knife he carved the pork and put it on a small plate which he held in his free hand. With a somewhat heavy thump he sat down in his chair and began to dine. He could hear the sound of a howling wolf in the distance, filling in the silence.

The howl reminded him when he met his first mate, Sahna. In some desperation to forget the memories he continued to dine, trying to focus on that instead of the memory.

"… Still afraid of me, Warsong, afraid of the big bad wolf coming to get you..?"

Broshgar closed his eyes for a moment and responded to the memory. "No, I ain't...", he whispered.

--------------

The good memories of Sahna played on, she had ebon-black long hair that was made in to a ponytail that sometimes hanged loosely in front of her arms when she turned to respective left-or-right. She had curves but in a more athletical manner and her eyes were light-brown, much like his own. Then he remembered how she met her fate. It was a quick death, an arrow straight for the heart and it ended her existence. Broshgar remembered the shock and the overwhelming anger he felt as he brought his axe down upon another Draenei after the other.

--------------

Broshgar opened his eyes and stared through the tiny window, still hearing the howl of the wolf not far.

"Oh Sahna, I wish you were here with me, not in only spirit but in the flesh too."

He couldn't grieve appropriately and he didn't want to. To him it would be a disgrace of him to shed tears for Sahna, he chose not to, instead he turned it to something else. Anger. He used it as fuel or like a drive to make him pushing ahead when he was in a fight. If his father taught him anything, both pain and pleasent memories could be a trigger. Letting the anger out in battle was the best course of action. However, that was not the only thing he was taught. Honor. To his family, his clan and those you fight along side with.

Honor. Tradition. Family.

Such was the way of his parents, his grandparents and his ancestors. Such would be his way, aswell.

[-Part 1: At the beginning-]

-Part 1: At the beginning-

It was all a red haze, the ground was spilled with Draenei and Orc blood. Both fluids intertwine.
Another Draenei fell and two Orcs followed with. The battle was a slaughter, indeed, but yet one had to continue fighting to survive.

Broshgar, along with his comrades in arms, fought to protect what is left of their people. In the midst of battle, the Orcs shared a quick glance, and they knew who stood up fighting alongside and who fell. Wave after wave, the comraderie became fewer and fewer. One of the latest victims of this battle was one of the closest and dearest to Broshgar. He didn't have any time to grieve, but all that could fuel him was the rage.

There was now a moment of pause and they took the opportunity to make a tactical withdraw. A sudden overwhelming pain overcame him and he fell forward, a piercing arrow hit him in the leg that went deep. With a growl in his voice he told his group to carry on. One stayed and tried to drag Broshgar with him.

"Leave me!", Broshgar shouted, "I am but dead-weight now!"
"Don't be a fool, Broshgar, we need to fall back!"

It was no use to argue.

Not far until they reached the checkpoint and Broshgar could see the massive bulwark of the Draenei army heading towards them. He could feel the vibration in the ground from the running hooves and the tall machinations they brought with. Finally he was put down and there was a hustle, Orcs ran out of their hovels and tents to assume formation to meet the tide.

There was shouting before Broshgar succumbed to the overwhelming tiredness from the blood loss.

Broshgar awoke with a fever from his unattended wounds and it was all a blur. What he could make out of his surroundings, he was laying inside a hut and outside there was an arid landscape, faint shouts of the Orcish language and some shapes moving back and forth outside.

With a weak effort he raised his head and saw that his wounds across his body was attended. Apparently it must've been tended by the Shamans. Feeling the overwhelming tiredness once more he laid his head back and gazed up at the tent's ceiling, still hearing the shouts every now and then. From what he could gather by listening to various voices outside, they were outside a place called Orgrimmar. He has never heard of such a place.

Someone entered the tent and Broshgar turned his gaze slowly towards the one who entered. By the way this shaman looked, it was a bit different outfit to what he's accustomed to. This one is more dressed in light metals compared to the original leather worn by the Shamans and.. green skin?

Broshgar struggled to raise himself but the shaman prevented him by a hand to his chest. "Don't bother standing, warrior, lay still and rest while we tend to your wounds."

Like he really had any choice.

"W-..Where..?"
"You are outside the gates of Orgrimmar, the home of the Orcs. You and your people recently arrived on Azeroth."

This surprised Broshgar and he couldn't help himself but chuckle with some effort.

"It's-.. it's just a tale.."
"No. You are here."

There was a sincere voice coming from the shaman and Broshgar simply stared at her. The green skin, the metals she wore…
The shaman began to unwrap the bandages found upon his body and nodded at each inspection, removing the bandages.

"The spirits has been kind to you, warrior, your wounds has been healed."
"W-Why do I feel so-.."
"Tired? It's not surprising, you've been sleeping for three days."

Broshgar stared at her in shock, trying to gather his wits and bearings.
"Three days..."

Hello there Nar'thak! Thank you for a quick reply and I'll have a stop down in Razor Hill soon, looking forward to meeting you all in a bit. As far as fleshing out Broshgar, I intend to take my time and make sure that he has a proper background worth mentioning and stories that would follow. Strength and honor! 

[Name: Broshgar Bloodhammer]

Name: Broshgar Bloodhammer
Level: 33 and rising!

Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:
Started to roleplay on WoW 2007 during the TBC period and I used to rp alot as a Belf. Did some other side RP Projects on other games such as ESO, EVE Online and SwTOR. Roleplay is something I hold dear and after nearly over twelve years of RP, I intend to continue. When it comes to the RP itself, I consider myself as a medium/Heavy roleplayer who finds the Lore to be important.

I wish to share that I've also led Convocation of Elrendar (Heavy Belf RP Guild on Sha'tar server) as an Archon (Highest rank) with Three other Archons (Edanna, Sorlain and Relcha).



And finally, please write a short story and/or (IC) introduction about your character:

(Still on pen&paper stage.)

Draenor. It used to be home, but no longer.
No matter how many Lightbound Draenei he slew, it wouldn't make any difference, it didn't bring closer to victory.
Many of his friends died in the field of battle and he stared in the eyes of Death often but yet he prevailed.
Broshgar was but a mere moment away from Death when he, suddenly, found himself on Another World.
Azeroth. On a planet, in a time unknown to him and his kinsman that followed.

It took him a matter of months before he could settle down and accept the fact that this world and this place, Orgrimmar, is his new home.
He and his kin swore allegiance to the Horde and Broshgar found his familiar place, as a warrior, a grunt who used to be out there in the frontlines fighting whatever that may be a threat not only to him but to his new-found home.

However, finding the right company was a little harder, among the green Orcs he couldn't help but feel himself left out, different from them. The green Orcs didn't follow the 'old ways' to the letter as he and his kin did. And there was much confusion when it came to sharing history.
It occured to him that he had to take some time for himself and decided to learn the lay of the land.

Broshgar lives now on the outskirt of Durotar by himself. It was a simple life he made for himself. Hunting like he used to, fighting when he had to and occasionally selling skin and hides in Orgrimmar, it was a living he accustomed himself to. But he still miss the company of the clan and sometimes, while sitting by his campfire and eating, he remember the stories his father told him when he was younger. About Grommash Hellscream and his defiance against the demons, the visitors that came from the Great Portal and how the Iron Horde became defeated.

Still young, he kept dreaming of finding glory and to live and die with honor. For such was his way and that of his clan. Just like his father and his grandfather before him. Honor was something that he held in high regard.