Gaar'thok would sit by his campfire at night while wondering what the rest of the clan would be up to while he was in the search of another predator in these woods of Ashenvale. With the current war going on and the kaldorei having returned, he has heard rumors about their savagery toward all their enemies, no longer stopping to think if what stands before them is an enemy or not, no matter what symbols of the horde they may or may not carry. Although, Gaar'thok would always carry one in bone hanging from his beard in red ink filling out the carving...
He'd take the bone in his palm and look down at it, pondering on the horde and how it used to be. How Orgrim and Thrall brought back their people from defeat and allied themselves with other races, showing that the orcs can be more than what the alliance has made them out to be... But lately it is all falling apart.
He'd grasp at the trinket and begin to lay himself down next to his campfire, shutting his icy blue eyes to go to sleep. Ill thoughts of the future and the crossroads which the horde find themselves at yet again fills his mind.
The following morning he'd wake up, not having any food for his breakfast or any chance to carry out his normal ritual of the four elements; Wind, earth, fire and water. Instead he sets out to continue his hunt across Ashenvale for a specific predator, a wolf. And not just any wolf either, it would have to be alone and seperated from its pack as it has to hold a certain meaning to the orc; The pack is always strongest together, alone we fall. It would perhaps be a bit on the nose... But it would in the very least be a meaningful hunt for the orcs of the red blade in hopes to become a seeker. To defeat a wolf in honor of the greater spirits of the clan and carry its strength with him for his future, his his life with the clan.
Being old and venerable, no longer as physically strong as he once was, he'd not have as much chance to beat a strong wolf in close combat and he could not call upon the aid of the elements for this ceremony, he had to succeed on his own! Only thing he brought with him would have been a small dagger, his walking stick from the old dead tree that now served him like a cane and simple robe in old leathers which was worn and torn all over, it would serve the shaman nothing in the form of armor or even protection from the elements, having shivered through out the night.
No, if he would need to beat the predator in question, he would have to be clever and outsmart the beast... But first he would need to find it and without being spotted by not only the kaldorei but all other dangers that lurked in these dark woods where light scarcely ever shined through the boughs of these ancient trees that stretched far into the heavens above him.
His steps quiet, slow... Patiently venturing forward through the bushes and grass, staying far away from the open roads. No, he needed to be careful here as he spotted large bears, furbolgs, sabers and other.
One by one he avoided them all until finally he reached a second of the forest he had heard about before where a pack of wovles referred to as the ghostpaw would reside. They'd stalk at night and remain close to sacred grounds of the kaldorei such as moonwells and other. It would be a risk but so would venturing even deeper and longer in these lands. No, the ghostpaw pack was a group of large strong lupine beasts that could easily kill the average man.
It would have taken a while but finally, he would have found the hunting grounds for the ghostpaws and ventured on to them, doing his best to always hide himself downwind in hopes of the beasts not catching his scent. Now he begun to prepare, taking out his knife and cutting down strong and firm boughs that would be in his reach. From there he would start carve out spikes, one after another and then using the vines and grass to fashion himself as strong ropes as he could possibly make at the time, tying the spikes on to one another, one after another. After that he'd use his knife to dig into the ground at a narrow pathway between two large trees. Just enough to hide the spikes beneath the ground without giving away too much of what is hidden.
After all this, he would hide, he would watch and he would wait for the lone wolf wandering too far away from its pack... And sure and behold, there he was. A large wolf with a white and grey coat much like those of the frost wolfs, although this one was not as large. Even so it was a ferocious, swift and strong beast that could not be underestimated.
The shaman would make a noise deliberately by stepping on a fallen branch that cracked. The wolf's ears perked up and quickly looked over at Gaar'thok's direction before it at once began to run toward his direction. The shaman did not have much time now and he ran toward his trap that was close by and leaped over the trap, hitting the ground while now looking like quite the vulnerable prey for the wolf but just as the beast leaped after the orc, the shaman would tug at the rope and up came the spikes! The wolf could not stop in mid air and was quickly impaled upon the many sharpened branches the orc had prepared for him. All it could do now was let out a whining cry before it stumbled lifelessly on to the ground.
With the beast now dead, the shaman slowly rose from the ground and dusted himself off before carefully approaching the body in case it had any lasting life in it. Finally he kneeled down over the fallen animal while reciting a small prayer to the spirits of the wild, to embrace this creature of the hunt. He'd reach out to plant his palm upon its fur but just before he'd touch it, he froze... He sensed something, something different in the air.
He'd slowly turn around but before he could spot it, a fist flew into his face and he'd fly through the air before hitting the ground with a loud thud and roll along the grass! That was a firm fist, as if the fist was not made of flesh and bone! No this was different, just as if...!
He quickly looked up now and spotted him... A kaldorei druid standing in his armor before the orc with the silver crescent owl Nila, trusted friend of the druid sitting on his shoulder.
- Rethion... The orc would state as he viewed his old friend from long ago. A druid he had many times worked next to as part of the cenarion and the earthen ring.
When the second cataclysm struck, the twilight hammer was pushing into mount Hyjal, threatening the life-tree Nordrassil and the kaldorei. But even more devestating was the fire brought forth by the fire-lord Ragnaros and his minions in the form of flame-druids. Gaar'thok and other shamans had been sent in to try and help quell the fury of the elements and bring balance once more. There he and Rethion along with other orcs and elves would end up going on several crucial missions together, creating a bond that helped one another through some harsh times. Last time the two saw one another was at the great wound caused by the dark titan as he stabbed the world with his blade. The cenarion and the earthen ring had desperately attempted to heal it to no avail and decided both to try and head out into the world to find other answers and means in hopes to save Azeroth from its fate... But things came in the way!
Teldrassil was lit aflame by the Horde, leading Rethion to help his kin while Gaar'thok could only stand and watch how the horde began tearing itself apart, how they were slowly losing their honor yet again.
The owl quickly left the druid's shoulder and flew toward the elderly shaman with speed before sinking its talons into shoulder! The orc's black blood begun to spill and stain most of his chest as he quickly would swat his left hand at the avian as he shouted: - Rethion, wait! I can explain! I am not here to ---
Before the orc could continue, the druid would already be up close to him without the orc even having had a chance to notice the elf with his speed! Swiftly the elf's knee would find the elderly orc's kidney, forcing him to stagger back while holding his side and riving in pain!
Even now the elf would not let up and together with his owl they two would continue the assault upon the orc, however this time the shaman would not just stand there and take blow after blow as the two would slams into a wall of earth brought forth by the shaman’s power. If the elf would not stand and listen to his old friend, the orc would have no choice but to slam some sense into the ancient being!
The owl Nila would fly over the wall while Rethion would run around it, still the two are coming toward him and first now the elf would speak while charging the shaman: - You should know better than come to these lands after EVERYTHING and start killing its wildlife, Gaar’thok!
Nila flew in from high, Rethion went low… But both were stopped in their tracks as lightning struck from above and hit the shaman’s palm that stretched up high over his head, striking out at the attackers that found themselves shocked by the shaman’s fury! As the two spasmed on the ground, Gaar’thok would lift his palms at each of them as the earth sealed them in a prison of stone holding them down by their limbs!
- I am not here to insult your beliefs or culture or kill everything in sight! You know me better than that, Moonshred! I am here on a spiritual journey to honor the wolf and gain its blessing and strength! Death is not the end, my friend!
Friend… Hearing those words did not bestill the druid and instead only gave him rage. Soon the stones would begin to crack and shatter as the druid changed his form into a large raging bear that would slam its paw into the shaman’s chest, sending him flying once more. The druid would then turn to his avian friend and grip the stones with his paw, using his brutish strength to free the owl before it could once more fly up and land on to the druid, this time on his back while giving the orc a nasty stare!
- We do not care about your excuses… Your culture has no place in these woods, Gaar’thok. It is what caused your people to cut down the trees, to kill my people for your honor! Now we suffer as thousands lay dead to your HORDE!
The druid’s words filled with anger and grief as he began to charge the orc yet again, this time as a large ferocious bear that could likely tear him apart were he to reach him. No, the shaman needs to get serious now or he’ll end up dying to the druid at this rate!
His eyes light up with the fury of the elements streaming through him as he calls out for their aid “Earth, storm and fire, heed my call!†and the elements would answer as the ground would shake and shatter beneath the druid, forcing him to change his form yet again, this time to a large silver crescent owl that completely dwarfs Nila’s own form as he now dives toward the shaman rather than charging at him, but again the elderly orc acts and the shattering earth begins to rise from the ground as its stone would heat up, turning into magma that then fires upon the druid and specifically the druid, thinking that one such strike would surely kill his friend and only enrage him further!
It strikes the druid and he is sent off course by the blast and right into a nearby tree with a loud bang. Nila still coming at the shaman but is soon trapped in a vortex of winds circling her, keeping her occupied and out of the combat between the two elders.
Rethion would transform back into his own elven shape and slowly rise from the ground, holding the burn over his chest with his wooden hand, the same hand that had struck the old orc out of nowhere when the elf first appeared while his other reached for one of his blades on his back, drawing it out. An elven forged blade out of elunite ore and blessed in their goddess’ light…
Meanwhile Gaar’thok takes a look at his wooden cane… Then back at the elven blade and once more unto the cane: - Well that is just not fair… He’d state before taking a deep breath, preparing himself for the elf’s next attack.
And stand and behold, here the elf comes, leaping at the orc with not one but both of his blades drawn to slash down toward his enemy! However Gaar’thok isn’t about to give up yet and he channels his energies into his cane as it becomes hardened as rock before blocking the two elven blades! After that the two begins a battle of physical prowess where Gaar’thok would definitely be losing, not able to keep up with the elf’s speed, strength and precision! One after another, cuts would spread out over the orc’s flesh and blood would begin to spill unto the ground! - Rethion, I am not here to cause you or your people harm!
The blades clash on to the cane of the orc, held there as their weapons are locked upon one another: - If only I could believe you… It is too late now. Fight and prepare to join with your ancestors, Farseer!
With a frown the orc would be forced to do what he had to and while holding his cane up to hold back the blades, his other hand would pull back before thrusting forward again, and with it, the elemental winds would answer and send the druid flying backwards. Before the elf could respond in kind, the elderly shaman continued with his attack, but not toward the druid, instead he fired bolts of lightning, shooting out toward one tree, and then another and other! Fires sparked and the trees were set aflame! The druid now forced to tend to his forest as the shaman quickly picked up the fallen wolf and hightailed it out of there as quickly as he could.
He’d run for quite a bit until finally settling down closer to the borders of the barrens. There he would continue with his task and while reciting prayers to the fallen beast, to honor its spirit and sacrifice as he carved it up and fashioned new leathers in order to create a ceremonial garb to bring with him home. The remains of the wolf was then offered in tribute toward the great wolf and father Akashok with a ceremonial fire.
Luckily, the druid would not have found him again this day and the old orc was given time and peace to tend to his wounds and rest before heading back to Razor Hill, now adorned in the garb of his task…
He'd take the bone in his palm and look down at it, pondering on the horde and how it used to be. How Orgrim and Thrall brought back their people from defeat and allied themselves with other races, showing that the orcs can be more than what the alliance has made them out to be... But lately it is all falling apart.
He'd grasp at the trinket and begin to lay himself down next to his campfire, shutting his icy blue eyes to go to sleep. Ill thoughts of the future and the crossroads which the horde find themselves at yet again fills his mind.
The following morning he'd wake up, not having any food for his breakfast or any chance to carry out his normal ritual of the four elements; Wind, earth, fire and water. Instead he sets out to continue his hunt across Ashenvale for a specific predator, a wolf. And not just any wolf either, it would have to be alone and seperated from its pack as it has to hold a certain meaning to the orc; The pack is always strongest together, alone we fall. It would perhaps be a bit on the nose... But it would in the very least be a meaningful hunt for the orcs of the red blade in hopes to become a seeker. To defeat a wolf in honor of the greater spirits of the clan and carry its strength with him for his future, his his life with the clan.
Being old and venerable, no longer as physically strong as he once was, he'd not have as much chance to beat a strong wolf in close combat and he could not call upon the aid of the elements for this ceremony, he had to succeed on his own! Only thing he brought with him would have been a small dagger, his walking stick from the old dead tree that now served him like a cane and simple robe in old leathers which was worn and torn all over, it would serve the shaman nothing in the form of armor or even protection from the elements, having shivered through out the night.
No, if he would need to beat the predator in question, he would have to be clever and outsmart the beast... But first he would need to find it and without being spotted by not only the kaldorei but all other dangers that lurked in these dark woods where light scarcely ever shined through the boughs of these ancient trees that stretched far into the heavens above him.
His steps quiet, slow... Patiently venturing forward through the bushes and grass, staying far away from the open roads. No, he needed to be careful here as he spotted large bears, furbolgs, sabers and other.
One by one he avoided them all until finally he reached a second of the forest he had heard about before where a pack of wovles referred to as the ghostpaw would reside. They'd stalk at night and remain close to sacred grounds of the kaldorei such as moonwells and other. It would be a risk but so would venturing even deeper and longer in these lands. No, the ghostpaw pack was a group of large strong lupine beasts that could easily kill the average man.
It would have taken a while but finally, he would have found the hunting grounds for the ghostpaws and ventured on to them, doing his best to always hide himself downwind in hopes of the beasts not catching his scent. Now he begun to prepare, taking out his knife and cutting down strong and firm boughs that would be in his reach. From there he would start carve out spikes, one after another and then using the vines and grass to fashion himself as strong ropes as he could possibly make at the time, tying the spikes on to one another, one after another. After that he'd use his knife to dig into the ground at a narrow pathway between two large trees. Just enough to hide the spikes beneath the ground without giving away too much of what is hidden.
After all this, he would hide, he would watch and he would wait for the lone wolf wandering too far away from its pack... And sure and behold, there he was. A large wolf with a white and grey coat much like those of the frost wolfs, although this one was not as large. Even so it was a ferocious, swift and strong beast that could not be underestimated.
The shaman would make a noise deliberately by stepping on a fallen branch that cracked. The wolf's ears perked up and quickly looked over at Gaar'thok's direction before it at once began to run toward his direction. The shaman did not have much time now and he ran toward his trap that was close by and leaped over the trap, hitting the ground while now looking like quite the vulnerable prey for the wolf but just as the beast leaped after the orc, the shaman would tug at the rope and up came the spikes! The wolf could not stop in mid air and was quickly impaled upon the many sharpened branches the orc had prepared for him. All it could do now was let out a whining cry before it stumbled lifelessly on to the ground.
With the beast now dead, the shaman slowly rose from the ground and dusted himself off before carefully approaching the body in case it had any lasting life in it. Finally he kneeled down over the fallen animal while reciting a small prayer to the spirits of the wild, to embrace this creature of the hunt. He'd reach out to plant his palm upon its fur but just before he'd touch it, he froze... He sensed something, something different in the air.
He'd slowly turn around but before he could spot it, a fist flew into his face and he'd fly through the air before hitting the ground with a loud thud and roll along the grass! That was a firm fist, as if the fist was not made of flesh and bone! No this was different, just as if...!
He quickly looked up now and spotted him... A kaldorei druid standing in his armor before the orc with the silver crescent owl Nila, trusted friend of the druid sitting on his shoulder.
- Rethion... The orc would state as he viewed his old friend from long ago. A druid he had many times worked next to as part of the cenarion and the earthen ring.
When the second cataclysm struck, the twilight hammer was pushing into mount Hyjal, threatening the life-tree Nordrassil and the kaldorei. But even more devestating was the fire brought forth by the fire-lord Ragnaros and his minions in the form of flame-druids. Gaar'thok and other shamans had been sent in to try and help quell the fury of the elements and bring balance once more. There he and Rethion along with other orcs and elves would end up going on several crucial missions together, creating a bond that helped one another through some harsh times. Last time the two saw one another was at the great wound caused by the dark titan as he stabbed the world with his blade. The cenarion and the earthen ring had desperately attempted to heal it to no avail and decided both to try and head out into the world to find other answers and means in hopes to save Azeroth from its fate... But things came in the way!
Teldrassil was lit aflame by the Horde, leading Rethion to help his kin while Gaar'thok could only stand and watch how the horde began tearing itself apart, how they were slowly losing their honor yet again.
The owl quickly left the druid's shoulder and flew toward the elderly shaman with speed before sinking its talons into shoulder! The orc's black blood begun to spill and stain most of his chest as he quickly would swat his left hand at the avian as he shouted: - Rethion, wait! I can explain! I am not here to ---
Before the orc could continue, the druid would already be up close to him without the orc even having had a chance to notice the elf with his speed! Swiftly the elf's knee would find the elderly orc's kidney, forcing him to stagger back while holding his side and riving in pain!
Even now the elf would not let up and together with his owl they two would continue the assault upon the orc, however this time the shaman would not just stand there and take blow after blow as the two would slams into a wall of earth brought forth by the shaman’s power. If the elf would not stand and listen to his old friend, the orc would have no choice but to slam some sense into the ancient being!
The owl Nila would fly over the wall while Rethion would run around it, still the two are coming toward him and first now the elf would speak while charging the shaman: - You should know better than come to these lands after EVERYTHING and start killing its wildlife, Gaar’thok!
Nila flew in from high, Rethion went low… But both were stopped in their tracks as lightning struck from above and hit the shaman’s palm that stretched up high over his head, striking out at the attackers that found themselves shocked by the shaman’s fury! As the two spasmed on the ground, Gaar’thok would lift his palms at each of them as the earth sealed them in a prison of stone holding them down by their limbs!
- I am not here to insult your beliefs or culture or kill everything in sight! You know me better than that, Moonshred! I am here on a spiritual journey to honor the wolf and gain its blessing and strength! Death is not the end, my friend!
Friend… Hearing those words did not bestill the druid and instead only gave him rage. Soon the stones would begin to crack and shatter as the druid changed his form into a large raging bear that would slam its paw into the shaman’s chest, sending him flying once more. The druid would then turn to his avian friend and grip the stones with his paw, using his brutish strength to free the owl before it could once more fly up and land on to the druid, this time on his back while giving the orc a nasty stare!
- We do not care about your excuses… Your culture has no place in these woods, Gaar’thok. It is what caused your people to cut down the trees, to kill my people for your honor! Now we suffer as thousands lay dead to your HORDE!
The druid’s words filled with anger and grief as he began to charge the orc yet again, this time as a large ferocious bear that could likely tear him apart were he to reach him. No, the shaman needs to get serious now or he’ll end up dying to the druid at this rate!
His eyes light up with the fury of the elements streaming through him as he calls out for their aid “Earth, storm and fire, heed my call!†and the elements would answer as the ground would shake and shatter beneath the druid, forcing him to change his form yet again, this time to a large silver crescent owl that completely dwarfs Nila’s own form as he now dives toward the shaman rather than charging at him, but again the elderly orc acts and the shattering earth begins to rise from the ground as its stone would heat up, turning into magma that then fires upon the druid and specifically the druid, thinking that one such strike would surely kill his friend and only enrage him further!
It strikes the druid and he is sent off course by the blast and right into a nearby tree with a loud bang. Nila still coming at the shaman but is soon trapped in a vortex of winds circling her, keeping her occupied and out of the combat between the two elders.
Rethion would transform back into his own elven shape and slowly rise from the ground, holding the burn over his chest with his wooden hand, the same hand that had struck the old orc out of nowhere when the elf first appeared while his other reached for one of his blades on his back, drawing it out. An elven forged blade out of elunite ore and blessed in their goddess’ light…
Meanwhile Gaar’thok takes a look at his wooden cane… Then back at the elven blade and once more unto the cane: - Well that is just not fair… He’d state before taking a deep breath, preparing himself for the elf’s next attack.
And stand and behold, here the elf comes, leaping at the orc with not one but both of his blades drawn to slash down toward his enemy! However Gaar’thok isn’t about to give up yet and he channels his energies into his cane as it becomes hardened as rock before blocking the two elven blades! After that the two begins a battle of physical prowess where Gaar’thok would definitely be losing, not able to keep up with the elf’s speed, strength and precision! One after another, cuts would spread out over the orc’s flesh and blood would begin to spill unto the ground! - Rethion, I am not here to cause you or your people harm!
The blades clash on to the cane of the orc, held there as their weapons are locked upon one another: - If only I could believe you… It is too late now. Fight and prepare to join with your ancestors, Farseer!
With a frown the orc would be forced to do what he had to and while holding his cane up to hold back the blades, his other hand would pull back before thrusting forward again, and with it, the elemental winds would answer and send the druid flying backwards. Before the elf could respond in kind, the elderly shaman continued with his attack, but not toward the druid, instead he fired bolts of lightning, shooting out toward one tree, and then another and other! Fires sparked and the trees were set aflame! The druid now forced to tend to his forest as the shaman quickly picked up the fallen wolf and hightailed it out of there as quickly as he could.
He’d run for quite a bit until finally settling down closer to the borders of the barrens. There he would continue with his task and while reciting prayers to the fallen beast, to honor its spirit and sacrifice as he carved it up and fashioned new leathers in order to create a ceremonial garb to bring with him home. The remains of the wolf was then offered in tribute toward the great wolf and father Akashok with a ceremonial fire.
Luckily, the druid would not have found him again this day and the old orc was given time and peace to tend to his wounds and rest before heading back to Razor Hill, now adorned in the garb of his task…