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(( As some of you might know, my time that I can play WoW has been slashed greatly making my return to the Red Blade near pointless for RP. I have however created my own guild for alts in which I can add additional colour to on going RP-PvP. ))

*A messenger sneaks ashore in the Wetlands to arrives in the Red Blade encampment and hands over a missive for Kozgugore.*

Chieftain

The Warchief is planning to send raiders of The Greywolves to strike at the Dwarves in Dun Morogh to distract and weaken them before and during the main campaign against the Dwarves.
I know the Red Blade needs  no help, but the Warchief demands it as your Tribes lives are of great value to the Horde. Attacks are planned for the Gol'bolar Quarry and the southern bunkers around the Valley of Kings.
Should you need further raids send a missive back with the messenger.

Nazkhur Iceblood
Nazzkhur Wildheart

Quatremaster Krugax Blightfury

As some of you may know if you have spent time around me over my warcraft life, I have a habit of coming up with some weird, wonderful and down right strange RP ideas, from character backgrounds to events and storylines.

This has led me to character loads of characters over my time and play around with ideas in game. This however must stop! For a number of reasons I can't keep playing serveral different characters each with the own complex style and story.

So I am going to start a fresh with one (and this time I mean it) character. Of course no doubt I will come up with equally strange ideas but this is where this topic comes into its own. Firstly I am looking to you as some of the best RPers WoW has to offer to help review, comment, moan and suggest things when I build up a background for this one character. Secondly I will be using this topic to post other crazy ideas that might inspire other people to make a character.

Right then, that enough rambling.
At the moment the idea I'm cooking up is for a Tauren (Shaman, warrior or hunter) to be transported back in time to the First War as a baby and to grow up in the Eastern Kingdoms and Draenor with a minor Orcish Clan and be of a good enough age to play with in WoW. This will create a tauren with Orcish beliefs and ideas as well as maybe a clan. As we all know, time travel is possible and time rifts do happen in other places than the cavern of time.

Whats we think?

During a session of wandering mind I got round to thinking on the lack of IC command the Tribe had during Koz's times away. This got me thinking maybe there needs to be more ways to divide up the mass of Nag'Ogar and give them more of a command role than more veteran warriors.

As we know, Nag'Ogar are there to help in the IC training of New Bloods and Oathbounds. This also got me thinking of command during PvP events. From events I have been in the past the command has been basically group around Kozgugore.

This got me thinking maybe it was think to move some of the Nag'Ogar upto a new rank of some sort. The job of this rank is to take command of a small unit within PvP fighting. Normal raid group style, one leader and four others of lower rank. However because we all have lives out side of WoW (I hope at least) sometimes we can't make events. This led me to think that maybe the Orcs in these ranks should hand pick or have Kozgugore pick eight Orcs to put under their command. If the Orc has less than four Orcs at an event they can then also have fill ins from someone who has more than four.

Maybe give Greggar or Claws a group of rogues to stealth, have Morgeth commanding casters or other ranged fighters. Gruulg leader warriors in the thick of things. This way only the command Orcs need to look towards Koz for orders as the other Orcs look towards their commander.

For example:

Kozgugore - Tribe Chieftain
The Big Three - seconds of Kozgugore
Unit Commander - Hand picked by Kozgugore
Nag'Ogar - Seconds to the unit commanders
Oathbounds - veteran warriors
New Bloods - the name says it all

Well I've finished rambling, let the rants begin.

((Only reason i'm doing it here is because i'd never fit it all onto an in-game letter. Damn you Blizzard and your short messages.))

Me Sister,

Tha time has come for me to leave. I can not pretend to live as if me was alive. Me died for the Horde at its peak, when it was loyal to Doomhammer. Now it seems the shattered remains of its once might, filled with the Outcasts that seek only personal gain.

In tha end me is dead, to dead to be hold onto anything but tha slaughter of the Alliance. My actions must be my own and not of the Tribes, me must fight as me see and not as the living order me.

Tha more me stay around tha Tribe tha more me know that me have lost 'n' will never regain. Me will count ye as me Sister even beyond death, but now me must fight as the last of a Horde that died out.

Blood, honour and much Poundin'

Nazkhur

*Along with the letter is Nazkhur's Battle-worn and blood stained tabard.*

((Due to an ever busy life and less time to play, i've taken the choose to RP Naz out of the guild. I will still be around in the ooc channel and Naz will still try and RP around the Tribe but as a lone Spirit Champion.))

For many nights as the Orcs slept, Nazkhur had thought she had seen strange ghostly figures move before her eyes. She had seen spirits before around the great mountain of Oshu'gun in Nagrand but this was in the middle of Ashenvale. Night after night she returned to the same place and each time they would appear and each time she would manage to see more before they vanished again.

The spirit-figures were those of Orcs and Tauren. The Tauren had dark fur and this led her to believe that they were from the Grimtotem Clan, the Orcs with them didnt seem to bear any form of Clan markings and may have been Orcs that no longer served a Clan, but the Horde as a whole. They didnt seem to do anything other than wander slowly between the trees. For a time Nazkhur wondered if they were those that had been slain by Hellscreams Chaos Orcs, but this fact mattered little. The idea she could see them seemed to interest her more.

((to be continued..))

((As some of you might already have heard my time in game is not easy to get due to being kept busy with real life. This means my chance to go to Red Blade events is limited. However now we are gaining lvl 80 characters who once again have little to do I'm starting a small project to keep some random RP going. Behold the Blightfury Ruk'Nogu.))

*Around Orcish outposts are pasted a few wanted posters. The newest looking of these reads:*

Wanted Alive if Possible.

Krugax Blightfury.

Known to be the Ruk'Ogar of the renegade band known as the Blightfury Ruk'Nogu and believed to have been stirring up trouble among the peons. Wanted to be captured alive for questioning.

*Under neither this is a crude drawing of an aged Orc male with white hair in a top knot style.*

((To add to the Orcish words we have, I've now added Ruk'Nogu which refers to an Orc of no clan but loyal to past Chieftain and possible seeking revenge for their downfall. Much like to ronin in japanese culture. The Ruk'Ogar commands these Ruk'Nogu and stays in contact with them as they go into hiding among the masses of other Orcs loyal to the Warchief, until they are prepared to take their revenge.))

During my time away I've been thinking of things to do when I finally get back to WoW. One of these ideas was to create a new guild of Orcs called the Burning Skull Clan. Now before you go off on a rant about Red Blade for life and the like, listen.

The idea of this clan is for members of the Red Blade to start a fresh Orc character and with other members from the tribe, level up and progress as a normal character should, without the boosting from high levels or the noobs that make the idea of doing the old instances seem not worth the trouble.

This won't be designed for a made dash to lvl 80 as many of us are doing with our mains in the Red Blade. This will be chance to go back to classic WoW and maybe even do some of the old end game instances before rushing off to Outland.

RP wise this also gives the Red Blade a minor Orcish rival instead of fighting among itself as happens most of the time at tribal meeting, (Wasn't anything to do with me...honest.... )

If there is enough interest I'm planning to make a healer and will even write up the lore for it.

*hides in a bunker with a megaphone* Well what do you think?

((As some of you might know, due to a dire cash follow problem I'm having to take a break from WoW soon. *peers at Koz wearing a party hat* But don't think this is the last you will hear from Nazkhur. I'm planning a series of letters from her to the tribe from her time on other duties. I'm hoping to do at least on a week, but no doubt it will drive me as insane as writing the Iron Guardian did so don't get your hopes up. Here is the first, to explain why Nazkhur is away..enjoy.))

Nazkhur stares at the Horde seal on the scroll before breaking it and unrolling the scroll. Her eyes scan across the words as she read.
"Grom damn it! 'em Grom-damn, flappie eared, flowerblooded, gits!" The pure temptation to rip the scroll up and throw it on the fire passes after a few moment of grumbling, and stamping of feet. Returning her gaze to the scroll she begins to read it in detail.

"Hail Nazkhur Iceblood of tha Red Blade. You have been picked out by Horde scholars ta have an understanding of tha Dwarven tongue and runes."
Pause for the moment and thinks, a small grin crosses her lips as she daydreams on ripping a tongue from a Dwarves mouth. Peering at the scroll again she continues.
"As such your skills are needed for the Horde. In four days time report to Conquest Hold in tha Grizzled Hills for orders. Tha Iron Dwarves might have wisdom that can't fall in ta tha hand of the Alliance. For tha glory of tha Horde and tha Warchief, yours....blah blah blah" The blah's rumble from her lips turning into a grumble as she finishes and looks down at her Red Blade Colours. "So much for duty for tha tribe."

As the moon slowly appeared in the sky, Nazkhur stopped outside a small hut made from the red stone of Durotar. Dismounting her large timber wolf the Death Knight walked inside. “Your late.” said the elderly Orc sitting at the far end of the hut.
She grinned underneath her wolf mask at the comment before speaking, “I had a tribal meeting to be at.” The other Orc looked up at his guest “And how is the Red Blade?” he questioned.

For the moment Nazkhur said nothing, simply walking inside and sitting beside the small fire in the middle of the earth floor. “Arrogant.” She mumbled as she stared at the fire. Her master let out a hearty chuckle at this statement. “And you really think you are better for saying so?” Angered by the question she turned her attention sharply at the Orc. “One suggested that New Blood’s should be used more like peons. Shamed and disgraced! I was lucky enough to get away from that life; I have no plans to return.”
Master Ashflesh gently stood and walked closer to his young apprentice. “Is the peon any worse because they don’t fight?” he asked. Nazkhur looked up at her master and then returned her gaze to the fire. “Yes, yes they are.” She finally answered. The elderly Orc grumbled to himself. “At least grunts have more power” she continued as she tried to justify her first answer. “Your wrong” snapped her master back at her. “Even the most humble are of use to the Horde. The simple peon that works endless hours does more for the Horde than the lazy grunt that drinks more than he fights.”

With a groan he lowers himself to the earth and looks at the Death Knight. “Titles and power bred only one thing, pride. Pride is a weakness that foolish leaders have. Blackhand believed that as Warchief no Orc could challenge him, he was proved wrong by Doomhammer.” Nazkhur shifts her gaze to Ashflesh as she thinks on what he said. “I have become more than my family ever had. The first to earned a second name.” she answers and is met by a nod of his head “And yet you don’t know why?”
She pauses then snarls back “Because Deadeye saw talent in me.” The Pyremaster chuckles to himself as he enjoys his own private joke. “Again your pride blinds you from the truth. Still I doubt you would remember me after all these years.” He grumbles in his thick tone. “Remember you?” the young Death Knight questioned. “Yes. I was the Pyremaster who preformed the rites for your father. It was in his flames that I saw your destiny. I got permission from Deadeye to have you trained and in your life you became a mighty warrior for the Horde.” Nazkhur grunted to this remark. “And in unlife?” she asked. The Orc let out a deep sigh, “Your mate, the Shadowmoon, he corrupted your destiny. He caused you to be reckless and with each victory you filled more and more with pride until your ultimate downfall.”

Nazkhur sat in silence as she remembered her past life. It was nearly a full hour before she spoke again. “And what does destiny hold now?” she finally asked. The elderly Orc sighed gently. “Your service in death to him and the Scourge have brought much pain to you, but in this you have become uncorrupted. Now you can continue your path, but you must remember that your title, status and power matter little. It’s what you do with your life from how it started that matters. Never let the lure of glory and fame fool you. Even the humble have a reason for being and a duty to for fill.” With the words still ringing in her ears the elderly Orc got to his feet and return to the stone that he used for a seat. Nazkhur stared at the fire as she returned to her own ideas. 

*sitting around the campfire outside Grommash Hold a young worg appears carryin a letter. After dropping it at Kozgugore feet the pup hurrys away again. Opening the letter is reads,*

Lok'Tar Chieftain

I am sorry that I couldn't escape my duty long enough to reach the Kosh'harg, but I bring news. The raid on Southshore has angrered the weak Humans and now they say that we Orcs broke the peace treaty and that we must pay for it. My new friend tells me that they are looking to burn down Hammerfall as a show of strength to the Horde and that he is keen to see the Human gone from the Arathi.

When I know more I will write more

For tha blood of tha tribe! Wolf-Sister Morgri

Me contacts in humies lands 'ave found somethin' of use.

*places scroll on the table. Unrolling it, it reads...*

Disciples,

As you may well know, our Order is a member of the Alliance War Council, a group collectively known as "The Vanguard".

Together with other Orders, we make up a well-oiled Alliance war machine that will defend our lands and suppress the offensive actions of the Hordish armies.

Next Sunday, we will be gathering in the town of Lakeshire, Redridge Mountains.

We will be amassing our forces and heading North into The Burning Steppes.

Our mission will be to intercept and destroy a large scale Horde supply chain that are regularly sending through supplies from Kargath in the Badlands down to Stonard in the Swamp of Sorrows. The supplies have been growing steadily larger and more frequent over the past few weeks - enough so to warrant a move of aggression.

Please arrive promptly and ready for battle - we expect a reasonable amount of Horde resistance in terms of guarding this large supply run, and the area in which we will be fighting is not to be underestimated.

May the Light aid and keep us.

Signed,

Sir Aarian Northlight
Master Chaplain
The Disciples of Light

Says its important, but me not 'ad time ta 'ave goblin read it yet. Me been told that humies goin' ta be marchin' north from tha Red Mountains in seven moons times. Somethin' 'bout supplies 'n' Badlands.

At the moment I'm running a storyline with my orc shaman alt (Ushal) of a warsong peon who is beginning a fight back for equal orcs and less of a rough life for the peons. As such I'll be stirring up trouble against the Red Blade in some of my spare time. Anyone else interested in making their own rebel to act on their own to bring in more random RP for others is more than welcome.

At the moment as some of you might be aware Morgri is living in Loch Modan due to the shame she felt for her actions at the tribal meeting. This has become the start of a tale that I'm building up over the next few days and posting on the DB realm forum.
For those of you who missed it or don't use the realm forum her is a handy link.

http://forums.wow-europe.com/thread.html?topicId=3704792345&sid=1

If you have any comment, reviews etc that you would like to make I'd love to hear them.

My name is Morgri Ironoath. To understand me you must understand where the blood in my veins comes from. I am the granddaughter of Kargom the first to be called the Ironoath. Kargom was a brave warrior in the Bleeding Hollow Clan under the rule of the famous Kilrogg Deadeye. For many years he served the Clan well in their lands in the olemba trees of the Terokkar Forest. Kargom earned the family name when swearing the Clan oath to Kilrogg. Kargom cut his palm with a jagged piece of iron and held it in his hand when proudly saying his oath. At the end of the oath the iron was thick with blood and bent from the sure strength of Kargom. The strength of this oath of loyalty to the Clan was as stronger than the iron he used.

The life in the Clan was almost the same for any Orc. Kargom was a skilled hunter and a fine warrior when the nearby Bonechewer Clan would look for trouble. At the Kosh’harg festivals Kargom talked often with Telkar Doomhammer of the Blackrock Clan. Even with the difference in clan the two got on well during their time together at the biannual meetings. Kargom was as feared as he was powerful. As only of Kilrogg’s senior warriors Kargom built an aura of fear and respect around him, should some other try and remove him from his place. Years passed slowly and finally Kargom found a mate with whom he could speak freely and not be the fearsome creature he was in public. Urmala was not of brave warrior lineage, but she used other methods to overcome the weakness of the arm. More skilled with her tongue, she could control the simple and get close to the powerful. Kargom was not so simple that he didn’t notice Urmala try and use this against him at times but she was a loving mate and had a sharper mind than he could hope for. Together they raised two children. Their sons Grawth and Snamr were as eager to follow their father as noble warriors of the Clan and trained hard. When Telkar was killed by an Ogre Kargom was able to attend the funeral and pay his respects to a good friend and to see his son take on the mantle of the Doomhammer.

When the Horde was in the early stages of its life and the Draenei war was ablaze Kargom, Grawth and Snamr would fool their clan into battle and reap the glories of it. In private Kargom talked freely about the mistrust he felt for Gul’dan. How such a “pitiful worm” could hope to keep control of the Clan’s escaped him. When the blood of Mannaroth was offered to the Clan’s Kargom would drink along with the seniors of the Clan. The blood changed them, at first it felt for the better. The powerful it gave was enough to smash the remaining Draenei in Shattrath, but the price was to be paid as well. In the weeks that followed the fall of the city the times got hard. The Bleeding Hollow’s made the best they could out of these times but Urmala died from fever and left a void in Kargom’s life. Without the hand of Urmala to help restrain him he became ever more violent and savage. With Blackhand ruling over the Horde was content only in battle. A battle that would come soon but first the work to prepare for it was needed. Both Grawth and Snamr would help in the building work and mining needed to create the Dark Portal. The sight of them doing this was to only enrage Kargom further and the peons around him would pay the prices for this. On a number of days he would beat one to death with his bare hands. These actions got him into trouble with Blackhand and Kilrogg, not that he cared much at these stages. Kargom made up for his temper in the Gladiator Arena. The glory and chance to fight was all he really cared about but the chances of him losing weren’t than great. Only one ever managed it, Orgrim Doomhammer. Lucky for Grawth and Snamr, when Orgrim defeated him there wasn’t much hard feeling. The memory of his father kept Kargom from making trouble in this matter.
Finally when the Dark Portal was finished and the time for the new challenge had arrived. The Bleeding Hollow Clan would play a major roll in the upcoming war against the humans. However there were some other problems brewing. In the first attack on Stormwind Keep the Bleeding Hollow’s and the Twilight’s Hammer Clan suffered greatly and Kargom would pay the price for the poor leadership in this attack. Killed by five arrows to the chest he would pass the mantle of Ironoath onto eldest son Grawth. Grawth wasn’t to hold the mantle for long and it is doubtful that his full talent was seen in the short time out of his father’s shadow. Snamr was now the only Ironoath left and planned to keep the glory of the family without so of the more shameful past. After the fall of Stormwind Snamr had risen in the ranks of the Clan and was a capable raider and scout leader. When Blackhand was slain and Doomhammer took his place, along with Kilrogg, Snamr would rally under the banner of the new Warchief. As a raider of the Sythegore Arm, Snamr would take part in the slaughter of the warlocks of the Shadow Council. The price of this battle to remove the evil shadow from the Warchief throne came at a great cost. Snamr was cursed by a warlock as he fell to his blade. A curse that would shame even the proudest Orc was the words used. Snamr wasn’t sure if the curse had worked or not, but the belief that it hung over him was a weight to carry.

When Gul’dan was kept alive by Orgrim many of the Sythegore felt that it all had been for nothing. Aware of this distrust that was growing and remains of loyalty to Blackhand the Sythegore Arm was disbanded and the raiders returned to their Clans. With fresh troops from Draenor arriving along with the Ogres, Doomhammer planned the Hordes next move. The humans who had escaped had fled north to Lordaeron. Now was the time for the Horde to follow. The invasion of Khaz Modan was to happen as Horde forces sailed across the Great Sea and took islands that lay of its western coast. With Kilrogg’s full support for Doomhammer the Bleeding Hollow Clan would be used well and take get pleasure in slaying the Dwarves and Gnomes that tried to defend. With Horde forces smashing north across the land and others landing from the island onto the Wetlands coast Khaz Modan was doomed. With the Horde in control of the land from the Portal to the Thandol Span, Doomhammer set up his citadel in Blackrock Mountain to plan his next move. It was clear that the Horde needed resources for the war and to keep a check on this would be Kilrogg Deadeye. The Bleeding Hollow was given the task of securing the mining and oil operation in Khaz Modan and the might Clan was given more the job of an overseer.

Snamr was stationed on one of the oil platforms in the Great Sea to his great displeasure. He longed more to be at the front and back fighting rather than such minding peons. On a number of occasions his fury got the better of him. The most famous being when the oil tanker needed to transport the shipment was late. When it did arrive three hours late, Snamr stormed aboard the craft and beat the Captain of it before crushing his skull between his hands. The times these happened were few and when the Horde fell back from Lordaeron, Snamr was returned to active duties. Fighting along side his Clan restored some of his pride, but the defeats that followed were great. He would fight at Blackrock Mountain and lose his left leg up to the knee there. Wounded he managed to stay with the Bleeding Hollow and made it back to Draenor when Ner’zhul reopened the rift.
Arriving on Draenor Kilrogg was hailed as a hero and reported the events of the war to Ner’zhul. The Warchief of Draenor came up with a scheme to plunder other worlds and with the help of Kilroggs Bleeding Hollow’s, Grom Hellscreams Warsong’s, and Bladefists Shattered Hand’s he would raider Azeroth for the tools to do this. The raiding for these items went well and all were recovered apart from the Eye of Dalaran. However these attacks have given the Alliance a reason to pursue the Horde through the rift to Draenor. The Alliance forces follow them and set up a staging post on Hellfire Peninsula. With the war going badly against the Horde and Ner’zhul more worried about his own problem defeat follows defeat. Recovered from his wound Snamr fights on with his Clan against the pressure of the Alliance. When Ner’zhul loses all sense and opens portals to many different worlds at the same time the planet starts to take the strain. The Alliance plan to close the Dark Portal and save Azeroth from the backlash the blast will cause. Showing courage and loyalty to their Clans Deadeye and Hellscream led the charge of their Clans through the Alliance forces towards the Dark Portal. With great honour and valour they make it through the Portal before it is closed. On the Azeroth side they battle through the Alliance lines again but large amounts are killed or captured. A few including Hellscream remain uncaptured and hide in Lordaeron.
Snamr isn’t sure of the fate of Kilrogg as he is imprisoned in one of the many new internment camps. Life at the camp is hard and the defeated Orc’s are treated like slave to the so called noble Alliance. In the camp Snamr happen to catch the eye of a young female. Grellan Lightfinger of Shattered Hand Clan was her name. She had been captured during one of the raids Snamr had been apart of. Escaping from the Alliance a number of times she wasn’t permitted to do labour for fear she would escape again. Grellan was quick witted and sneaky. Skills really found in most Orcs and skills that served her well in the camp. Using her talent of sneaking she was able to get to know Snamr well and agreed to be his mate. Falling pregnant after a few weeks Grellan wasn’t able to see Snamr apart from at a distance. When she gave birth to a son Snamr was proud that he could call himself the father. His young son would grow up fighting and brawling with the other young that had been birthed or captured. The Alliance did their best to limit this but there was the odd one that happened. Their treatment wasn’t much better and it was believed that the guards hoped they wouldn’t live. The son fought on and was one of the few to reach the age of ten. This time was when things would change. There had been rumours of the Orcs breaking out of camps and building an army but now it was at the gates of their camp. Leading this force was the Horde’s greatest Warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer. With the elements siding with the Orcs again something that hadn’t happened since before Snamr was born the camp was free. Like most Bleeding Hollow’s Snamr took up arms and followed the army freeing another camp before Arathi. In the highlands the camp was prepared for the coming attack and the Horde suffered greatly in this battle. Snamr would see Doomhammer take his mortal wound but in that moment would take his as a guard slices his head cleanly from his shoulders.
The son of Durotan, Thrall would take on Orgrims mantle as Warchief of the Horde and prepare to lead them to greater things. Grellan was heartbroken at her lose. In honour of the fallen Warchief that Snamr died with she named the child Orgrim, but the morning after the battle in Arathi things would change. The funeral pyre’s of many a fallen Orc would be lit. When Snamr was claimed by the flames the curse that had remained hidden with Snamr’s fresh from the slaughter of the council would be released. As the smoke drifted up a ghostly figure of an Orc warlock formed above the pyre. The smoky figure reached out a hand and Snamr’s sun fell to the ground and groaned in pain and suffering. The son had been changed and what greater shame for a proud father of a strong son to have his son becoming a daughter to him in his afterlife. Waking up the night after my father’s funeral I felt different. As if the world had changed around me in a moment. I was female now and become Morgri. Afraid of what the Horde might thing of this change lived alone in the wilds so that my mother could return to their safety. Before she returned to the Shattered Hand she trained me as best she could so that I wouldn’t starve. I was very young but I learnt fast. The basic skills to stay alive started much as the Orc first had. Hunting, cooking and hiding. I watched from a distance as the Orcish Horde laid waste to Durnholde in the days that followed my change. When times were hard I learnt that to take from the Human’s is a way to live.  I rarely entered Orc camps and when I did it was more to trade with what I had taken for things of more use. After a few months of this the new Warchief Thrall had a vision and gathered the Orc’s to cross the sea to Kalimdor. Seeking a chance to make a new life in this far off land I followed with the Horde and caught up with them after they had managed to release the captured Grom Hellscream from a Human strike force. After a long a rough journey we arrived on Kalimdor picking up some Jungle Trolls that were on the Broken Isles along the way. This land was barren and rough. I managed to find mother Grellan again as we tracked across the land. She managed to pass me off as a distant family member. I stayed distance as I could as such to the camps until I could find a place to settle. After the defeat of the Legion on Mount Hyjal my mother settled in the newly built Orgrimmar and I continued to wander in search of a life I can call my own. I settled in Dustwallow Marsh and watched as the Humans built Theramore. Over the new couple of years the Forsaken and Blood Elves joined the Horde. I had no love for either of these really and as events changed with the Horde I kept to myself in the marshes. Then one day North West of Orgrimmar a bright star seemed to fall from the sky. It was like nothing we had ever seen before. Some feared it was the return of the Burning Legion, others that it was a sign from the spirits that peace was needed with the Alliance or more war.
I continued to live in the marshes as best as I could but the feeling of loneliness grows with each passing day. Even if they would mock me the Orc’s were my people and I had a duty to them. I returned to Durotar and arrived at Razor Hill, that day I saw a patrol of riders from the well known Red Blade. I had heard of their skills and battles with the Alliance from my information source. The humans were so dull witted that they wrote pages of writing on the things that happened in their lands. I couldn’t read common, but the Goblins of Ratchet would read it to me for the right amount of gold. With this I had sent reports to the Shattered Hand that my mother was still close to. I also stole books from the humans. I began to study some of the Human tactics and understand how their mind worked. Even with these the Red Blade I came across looked upon me as nothing more than a peon.
When I arrived at Orgrimmar the Shattered Hand contacted me and secured me a place as a Horde Messenger. It wasn’t the most difficult job around, but it allowed me to pass on and gather information for them. I moved around a lot, from Ashenvale, Mulgore and the Barrens to Silverpine Forest and Quel’Thalas. I had known the Red Blade were a group of Orc’s from many Clans united under one banner of the former Clan Red Blade. Maybe this tribe had a place for me. Only time would tell, but with war and death spread far and wide I finally choose to take on the mantle of my father fully and become Morgri Ironoath. I might not be as I was born into the world but like my family before me I shall leave a mark on it. Loyalty to those who earn it and death to those who stand against us.