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King of the Mushan

"He Gave me Meaning" by Turak Iretusk

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People always ask my why I followed Hellscream.

Why I would endanger the lives of my friends and family for his so-called mania and thirst for war.

They ask me why I believed in him.

The answer is as simple as this: He gave me meaning.

 

Growing up Warsong meant being proud of yourself, your heritage. Touting your victories over your foes and reminding the world around you that you are not to be trifled with. The Horde humored my heritage well enough. Fighting alongside them, I earned more trophies and victories than I could chronicle in a lifetime of books. When we settled in Orgrimmar, I still found battle, found victory. But there were times when my faith in the Horde faltered. When we stayed our hand against the Alliance when they were most vulnerable.

I grew tired of this inaction by the end of the War in Northrend. I put up my blade, not wishing to spill any more blood for this Horde. The Horde that had failed me. I turned my back on them.

Then came the thinking... The nights spent awake by Arka's side wondering whether or not my ancestors would smile upon me when I met them. My victories had run dry. My trophies had been forgotten. There was nothing to tout, nothing to pride myself upon. I was an aging veteran, father of two, living in the Drag. I was a Warsong Raider no longer... I made the decision to prepare my own death soon afterward. I was heading out of the city, into the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on my back, when I saw him.

The Hero of Northrend.

The Hero of the Warsong.

The Future Warchief of the Horde.

That was the day I met Garrosh Hellscream. When he looked at me, he saw what everyone else had forgotten. He saw the heritage. He saw the warrior within me. We met in the Broken Tusk, he bought me a few rounds. We spoke. We traded stories. For that brief evening, we were both Warsong again. I gave him my warrior's promise, that should he ever need me to, I would fight with him to the mouth of the abyss. It is a promise that is not given lightly. And he took it with pride. I never imagined that he would truly cash that promise.

Afterwords, I found meaning, if even very little, in my life, and continued on. By the time that my youngest, Tharek, had off and joined the military, I was content in my quiet life. But then, there came a new Warchief in Orgrimmar. And his name was Garrosh Hellscream. The people rallied around him, the War Hero come to claim victory again for the Horde. It was as if the ancestors had given me a gift. A reason to pick up my weapon again.

I paid my promise to Hellscream in blood. He made me part of his Kor'Kron, and I served him with honor and fury. His foes fell by my blade. His will was my command. As I fought alongside the Kor'Kron, the world around me started to change. People became fearful. They did not trust us. They did not trust Hellscream. They feared us both. 

To this day, I ask myself if joining the Kor'Kron was the right decision. If serving Garrosh was my destiny. But whenever I begin to doubt my allegiance, the thought re-enters my mind:

He Gave me Meaning.

Edited by valorous141

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