User:Vraul/Vraul Jawrip
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
"Honor above all else."
- - Vraul Jawrip
 Vraul Jawrip | |
|---|---|
 | |
| Gender | Male |
| Race | Orc (Humanoid) |
| Class | Warrior |
| Affiliation(s) |
The Horde, Ripsnarl Riders (until death) The Thunderfist Warband, The Ironwolf Clan (formerly) |
| Occupation | Worg Rider |
| Location | Buried near The Crossroads |
| Status | Deceased |
| Relative(s) | Thor'gran (father), Grima (mother), Soran (brother) |
| Companion(s) | Stormrider (wolf) |
Vraul Jawrip was an orc warrior who served as a soldier of the Horde army. He was most famously known for his service to the Thunderfist Warband in the Barrens during the Cataclysm until it had been disbanded due to volatile political affairs. At the end of his life, he fought for the Ripsnarl Riders, a leftover faction of Ironwolf Clan members who had departed due to conflicts with the leadership.
Originally hailing from Nagrand, he had experienced many tragedies that have befallen the orcish race in recent times and constantly fought to reclaim his honor to his dying breath.
Characteristics
Though he was technically apart of the Frostwolf clan, Vraul was a warrior-born, and as such held no powers over the elements. However, he continued to wear his father's lupine mask in his memory. He stood slightly taller than most orcs, and had a bulky, muscular build, a necessity for a warrior of his type. He also had various tattoos etched onto his arms, including an image on his left shoulder of a wolf sitting atop a rock and howling at the moon, wherein two wolves could be seen on each side of, which he acquired as a tribute to both of his parents while he was still in Lordaeron. While his father, Thor'gran Jawrip, was a shaman of the Frostwolf clan and lived a long life until the Horde took off for Kalimdor, Vraul's mother had caught a terrible sickness, most likely the infamous red pox that had struck the population around the time, and died long ago in Nagrand when Vraul was a mere seven years old. Such a loss, followed by many others, gave Vraul a rigid perspective of the world for much of his life
Vraul's attitude resembled that of most veterans of old: relatively sullen and regretful, but still prideful of his heritage. He disliked fighting if the given target was defenseless, and refused to use cheap or underhanded tactics in order to win a battle. However, if driven to hate a foe enough due to their own actions, Vraul's justice was swift and without mercy.
His fierce loyalty for the warchief's rule was unquestionable, as proven when Garrosh was given the title. Regardless of the fact that Hellscream's political beliefs were much more militant than his own, Vraul remained sided with Garrosh until the latter's demise due to his necessary service to the greater Horde and the mighty orcish race. After Vol'jin took charge of the Horde with Garrosh's deposition, Vraul admittedly held some resentment towards his new leader. However, he restrained himself from speaking out against him in fear of further splintering the already battered Horde. The same rule applied for Sylvanas during her rule.
Early Childhood
Prior to his birth, Vraul had taken quite a toll on his mother, who was constantly dehydrated and required constant attention through the second half of her pregnancy. While his mother barely survived the event, Vraul was nonetheless born a healthy child within a Nagrand village near the tremendous Oshu'gun mountain to Thor'gran and Grima Jawrip. He was a rather large infant compared to the usual orc, but what certainly caught his parents' attention was the clarity of Vraul's eyes. Like milky eggs they were, complimented by large, dark pupils, which stared at his parents endlessly, curious of the figures that had brought him into the world.
Vraul's development was rather slow at first, as he was unable to walk on his own for a few years, and found difficulty picking up the orcish language. Such progress worried his parents, as the harsh traditions of orcish culture did not take kindly to those in the group that were branded as, "weaklings". In an attempt to resolve their son's disabilities, the pair became harsh on young Vraul, fiercely and constantly teaching him the ways of their people. Once he had grown to be just five years of age, Grima had begun taking Vraul on daily trips to a local town to gather food and water for their home. When the seasons had changed, he was even made to tread out to the colder regions of Frostfire Ridge, where he was expected to pull his own weight for the family.
One day in Nagrand, however, as they were passing by the nearby town for supplies, the commoners could not help but to notice Vraul's glossy eyes darting around, piercing through each new and exciting visual that Vraul could pick up. Many orcs soon crowded around him, trying to communicate with him and compliment his eyes, to the alert of Grima. Racing in to protect his son and hide his disability, Grima snatched him away and fled from the town, promising to keep him away until he was of age to defend himself. However, that night, Thor'gran argued heavily with Grima for such a decision, proclaiming that his son would not be discriminated against.
The next day, Thor'gran went off to his usual duties for his clan, leaving Grima and Vraul in their hut. However, Vraul awoke to the sound of terrible and obnoxious coughing. He looked up and saw his mother, looking pale and sweaty, coughing around the house, trying to drink it away with all of the water they had. Unfortunately, there was very little left, and so Grima decided to take Vraul out and into a nearby village, hoping to get rid of her annoying cough. On the way there, Grima's pace became slower and her posture became more and more droopy. When they were almost halfway there, Grima collapsed onto her face and fell unconscious, letting go of Vraul's hand in the process. Vraul, in a state of confusion and worry, began shaking his mother, blurting out, "Mama?", to no response. He pushed his mother over and fixated his gaze upon her eyes; such a beautiful sight they made, giving off a bright and warm greeting, even in their now-motionless state. Such a sight became burned into Vraul's memory forever, as he stared at Grima for many hours until finally a passerby came and stopped over, calling out the shaman and others for help. Vraul's father was never the same after Grima's funeral, as the regrets that poured out into his mind had left him with a broken heart and a relative loss of ambition. Vraul, still too young to understand and process the occurrence, had been told that his mother had gone to sleep for meditation and was helping the spirits find peace with the world.
Growing Up to Trouble Within
Growing up within the Frostwolf clan, Vraul was encouraged by his people to become a shaman, much like his own father, and join tremendous battles in the name of the clan. As Vraul became of age to begin the initiation, he was sent out on a trek to the sacred "mountain", Oshu'gun, in a mission to seek out the ancestors. If Vraul had been able to see the ancestors appear before him, he would be able to communicate with them and hear firsthand their wise guidance. However, Vraul arrived and saw nothing of the sort, and returned with the grim news. His father, along with the rest of the clan that knew him, had been heavily disappointed for some time. However, one of the elder shamans advised Vraul not to seek sorrow in such trying times, but instead find his own path in history. Given his superior physical strength, Vraul was convinced to take up the responsibilities of being an axe-wielding defender of his people. The trainers noticed that he had an adept ability to swing his blades in an efficient manner, and so placed him in many duels with other promising trainees. While Vraul had not garnered a perfect record in these fights, his skills impressed many of the higher-ups within the Frostwolf clan, who were convinced that Vraul's specialty and way of life was the path of the warrior.
Day of Reckoning
After many months of harnessing his combat skills in the arena against his own kin, Vraul awoke within the floor of his tent to find his father standing up nearby, uttering to him, "It's time", as he offered Vraul a hand getting to his feet. Seeing his son's confused face, Thor'gran reminded Vraul that he was now not only of age but of experience to finally prove himself worthy of being an orc - it was time for his Om'riggor. Hearing of these tales and minor details in the past, Vraul arrogantly smirked at his father, claiming that it would be no challenge. Scoffing at his son, Thor'gran reminded Vraul that he was to wear no protective gear nor bring any provisions, and he was also only allowed one weapon for the kill.
The weight of this burden showed on Vraul's face right then, and Thor'gran smacked his son in the shoulder and ordered him to follow. The two mounted up on their wolves, and darted towards the center of Nagrand. After about an hour of traveling throughout the lands, Thor'gran demanded Vraul to slow down and halt, and then dismount from his wolf. Thor'gran then ordered Vraul's wolf to follow him as he began to pace away from his son. Vraul shouted out in confusion, believing that his Om'riggor would involve slaying a mighty Frostwolf within Frostfire Ridge. Thor'gran peered over his shoulder, angrily glaring at Vraul, and uttered that there was no time to waste, as the spirits spoke of war coming soon and that Vraul needed to get his challenge done then and there. Holding his hand up to silence any of Vraul's further questions, Thor'gran and the two wolves then raced out of the horizon, leaving Vraul alone to track his kill.
It was many days of searching for the perfect kill, gazing in hiding at many possible animals he would seek as prey. The sun had risen and set without a proper decision. Finding himself nearly to the brink of exhaustion, Vraul began eating upon the berries of the land. After these had failed to stem his hunger, he then began taking down numerous small animals, doing his best to prepare them upon fires without directing too much attention towards his whereabouts.
Finally, after waiting so long and suffering greatly in the wilds, he managed to set his sights on a particularly large talbuk, one with an amber coat that he believed would give him a great enough challenge to succeed in the eyes of the elders. Though it was no Frostwolf as he wished, he remembered tales of other clans and their Om'riggors involving talbuks, and this one would do nicely. Carefully approaching the beast, Vraul attempted to take the talbuk by surprise, as he worked to use his massive frame against the tremendous foe. Managing to get it to the floor, Vraul prepared the final strike. Just as he raised his axe, the talbuk scurried up and off. By pure primal instinct, Vraul leapt forward and sliced into the hind legs of the beast, hoping to slow its pace. Seeing it fall over onto its knees, Vraul once again charged forward, and attempted to take the talbuk by the neck. It struggled and wrestled with him fiercely, and after a few moments, one of its horns managed to pierce Vraul's arm. Roaring in pain, Vraul sent his knee straight for the talbuk's gut before twisting and falling face down onto the grassy dirt in angst, his axe nearly coming close to decapitating him as it fell over his head in front of him onto the ground.
Gripping his axe firmly, Vraul stood back up, his knees and elbows covered in dirt and grass and blood. Scouting the rising talbuk once more, Vraul raced back to his foe as it managed to stand back up, and he raised his axe with a howl. The talbuk attempted to attack Vraul with its front hooves, but fell forward quickly due to its injury. As it did, its massive neck collided with the swipe of Vraul's axe, and the Talbuk fell to the ground lifeless. Heaving in pain and exhaustion, Vraul knelt down towards the talbuk's wound, and began painting his face with its blood. By nightfall, he had turned the talbuk into savory, charred meat - and this particular talbuk was especially flavorful.
After the sun rose up and he finally felt that his job was complete, Vraul made the long way back towards home to the cheers of his brethren. One of the elder shaman came to him and swiped his fingers across Vraul's face, after which he placed them in his mouth to verify the kill. After a few moments of grunts and questionable faces, the shaman declared Vraul victorious in his Om'riggor, and the orcs held a mighty celebration that night. Vraul enjoyed this party in a daze as the results of his challenge took a toll on his health, and he found himself slumped over on the ground near the fire midway through, to the laughter of his clanbrothers.
The End of All Things Good
While he felt accomplished in proving his worth as an orc, he was not quite blind to the sharp changes within the ideals of his people. The Frostwolf clan was becoming much more secretive and divided, as Drek'thar and many other powerful shaman were convinced to practice warlockery - not knowing of the terrible force behind such power. Soon, the first Horde had been formed with the combined might of numerous orc clans, including some orcs from the rebellious Frostwolves. Under orders by the puppet Warchief, Blackhand, Vraul had joined an orc offensive that included great warriors such as Durotan himself in an attack against the draenei holding of Telmor. Vraul, having the choice to either obey his people and live or dissent and suffer a brutal demise, reluctantly chose to slay a fair amount of draenei in his path. Soon after, Shattrath City had been sacked, and many orcs were commanded to drink the Blood of Mannoroth and partake in a "gift" by the terrible warlock, Gul'dan.
However, rather than engorge upon the "gift" himself, Vraul had decided to follow Durotan's wise guidance, and joined him and much of the Frostwolf clan in attempting to escape the terrible lands that were changing around them. As the group trekked forth through the Tanaan Jungle, they had found themselves surrounded by a large Horde of Laughing Skull clansmen who had already partaken in the gift, and were furious at the Frostwolves for not doing so as well. As the Laughing Skull closed in on Vraul and his group, a particularly large Laughing Skull had revealed himself to be known as Thandolcran, and he pointed out Vraul specifically as one he looked to kill. Questioning this strange figure's motive, Vraul was told by Thandol that his family in particular had once been a part of their clan ages ago, and Vraul's ancestors disgraced themselves in one particular battle against a great beast. Thandolcran explained that many of his ancestors fell in that battle, and that the Jawrip family had taken full credit for the kill, claiming all of the rewards in turn.
Never having heard a mention of this story, Vraul lashed out verbally that the Laughing Skull must have him and his family confused with another. Vraul received a guttural cackle from the figure, who responded that there was no mistake, and that their refusal to join the Horde in partaking in the Blood Gift had proven to him once more that they were weak and needed to be exterminated. From then on, the many Frostwolves and Laughing Skull orcs engaged in a tremendous battle within the jungle, each side taking numerous casualties as blood spilled all over the soggy grounds. After hours of heated battle, Vraul overheard a voice demanding that they flee, and saw his remaining brothers trekking out into the darkness of the jungles. Seeing no other way for survival, Vraul quickly took one of his axes, and threw it with all of his might in Thandolcran's direction, slicing through into the latter's femur before darting backwards with his brothers.
As the group hastily made their retreat towards the Dark Portal, many of them found themselves caught in traps, sent down into the ground and impaled by spikes. Narrowly surviving, Vraul managed to eke out towards the edges of the jungle, and after his group finally reunited with the rest of the Frostwolves, they quickly made their way across the portal, unsure of what they would find on the other side.
A New World
After exiting the portal, the orcs found themselves in a vast swamp that was known as the Black Morass. A new world had been opened to them, while at the same time another change was becoming common amongst the populace: their skin color was quickly changing from brown to green. Soon enough, any brown orc that had traversed through the portal had either caught the contagion of the fel aura from the other orcs, or had been killed. However, while their appearance had been altered, Vraul began to notice a positive change in the methods that the shamans practiced as the Frostwolf clan traveled farther north to a valley within the Alterac Mountains. Soon enough, he once again felt a great pride in his people.
Unfortunately, this feeling would subside and become replaced with worry, as the clan would soon suffer tremendous trials and tribulations in the coming years. For much time, the Frostwolves were hounded by humans, or pinkskins as the orcs called them, who hunted many of them down in the forests and either slaughtered or enslaved them within internment camps.
A Terrible Truth
Vraul decided one morning to inquire his father about the figure that had questioned their family's honor. Thor'gran grunted and refused to answer for some time, but as sunset grew close and they had managed only meager scraps for the day, he sat Vraul down by the campfire with a sigh. Thor'gran admitted that their family does indeed hail from the Laughing Skull clan many ages ago, and that they were exiled from Tanaan due to terrible circumstances. However, he informed Vraul that it was not their family that had done any deceiving - rather, one night, during a terrible storm, their ancestors joined up to take down a tremendous saberon and its ilk that were threatening to encroach upon their orcish huts. As the Jawrip ancestors came upon their prey, they found that Thandolcran's ancestors had struck a terrible deal with the saberon pack, promising them a mighty feast of orcish meat so long as the saberon promised never to hunt in their lands again.
Finding themselves surrounded, Vraul and Thor'gran's ancestors fought hard and killed plenty of Thandolcran's ancestors alongside plenty of saberon. Victorious, the Jawrip family returned to their camp to find themselves branded as traitors, and many of the family were taken away in shackles to be sacrificed. The few Jawrips who escaped fled far and away, and eventually established themselves alongside the Frostwolf clan in Frostfire Ridge. Ever since that day, the Jawrips and the Laughing Skulls held a tumultuous relationship, and once Thandolcran himself had taken charge of the family, tensions grew to such the extent that heavy blood was drawn. Thor'gran explained this as reason for their family often traversing to and from Nagrand, in hopes to evade the sights of Thandolcran and his murderous rampage against their kin.
A Terrible Price Paid in Time
After many years of being able to successfully escape this terrible enemy, Vraul's father's health had started to decline. A former warlock returned to shamanism, Thor'gran Jawrip's body had taken a massive toll from such drastic changes in his use of spellpower over the years. With his physical body aged to exhaustion, his spirit quickly began to wane.
One fateful day, while scouting the Hillsbrad Foothills for food, Vraul and his father had caught the attention of two Lordaeron soldiers, who began chasing after them. Thor'gran attempted to fight back, but the elements refused to call to him. He quickly became exhausted and was barely able to remain conscious. Vraul refused to let his father give up, but he found himself helpless when one of the human attackers managed to grab hold of Thor'gran's lagging arm. Vraul tried to wrest his father away, but it was of no use. The attackers quickly grappled Thor'gran and then slaughtered him with their weapons. Just before being killed, Thor'gran managed to eke out a small shriek, "Survive!", and quickly but sorrowfully his son obliged. Vraul, with tears in his eyes, darted towards the hills and managed to escape with his life.
As he managed to return to the others, sadness nearly took him as he found his legs becoming wobbly. Some of the elders tried to console him, though it took a few days before Vraul managed to break out of his exasperated state. As his head began to clear, he decided to take up his father's wolf-mask as a memento, and vowed to wear it in his honor. Some time later, he also decided to get a large tattoo on his left shoulder in memory of both of his deceased parents.
For Honor and Glory
For many years, the orcs had been entrapped within internment camps, seperated from the rest of their brethren who, while free, were facing life nearly if not rougher than that withn the camps themselves. That is, until a remarkable young shaman soon came upon his people and became the first shaman of a new generation that the elemental spirits accepted. Soon, this newcomer - branded by the humans with the name "Thrall" - proved to the clan his capabilities when he was able to best Orgrim Doomhammer in single combat. Vraul, hearing of the plan that Doomhammer and Thrall had concocted against the humans, was eager to join in on their idea.
It was not until Durnholde Keep that Vraul was allowed to fully join in on the attack, but the wait left him extremely hungry for battle against the humans. It was there, within Durnholde, that Vraul would meet an orc prisoner, Aknug Stormrider, and personally free his bonds so that Aknug was able to join in on the fight against the human wardens. The battle was bloody and not without casualties, and Vraul himself suffered severe wounds throughout its peak. The most damaging were to his shoulders, which were hammered with maces that broke off the chains of his spaulders, as well as swords and daggers that cut deep into his skin. He was also blinded by a dagger being pierced into his right eye, which forced him to wear an eyepatch afterwards. Nonetheless, the orcs were successful in their attack, and the imprisoned orcs had been freed. All that was left in the end were a pile of corpses and rubble from the keep that Thrall brought down with the might of his shamanistic powers.
Trouble Along The Way
With many of the remaining orcs freed and the orcs becoming a sizable force within Azeroth, Vraul joined the clans as they assembled to establish a new base for all of the united orcs to remain within in relative safety. However, the orcs were not to stay, as the orc liberator himself, Thrall, had been given a vision by a mysterious prophet to sail the oceans westward towards Kalimdor in order to escape the humans and find their own destinies. Vraul was apart of the force that assaulted a human base that not only held a plethora of ships, but that had also encaged the great warrior, Grom Hellscream. After freeing him from his bonds, the orcs swiftly boarded the human ships and fled the Eastern Kingdoms for good. As the ship he was on drifted away from the human-infested continent, Vraul stood by and stared at the fading lands, promising to one day return and bring hell to the dastardly humans who had caused him so much grief.
While sailing the oceans, the ship Vraul and many other orcs had been on soon took off on another course and they were pulled into a storm near the Maelstrom. The ship was forced to take shelter upon an island, which happened to be inhabited by not only a mysterious race known as trolls, but also more angry humans seeking to kill the orcs. During a battle with each other, the humans and orcs were ambushed by a raid of intelligent murlocs, who sought out sacrifices for their terrible rituals. Imprisoned within a fiery dungeon inside the volcano, Vraul continued to rattle the cages until he was knocked over the head and demoralized by the wardens of his cell. It was not until Thrall arrived and freed him did Vraul regain hope that he and his people would be able to escape such a horrible fate as a sacrifice. After a mighty battle against murloc armies, Vraul and the others were finally able to repair their ships and continue their voyage towards Kalimdor.
New Homeland, Old Troubles
Finding himself seperated from Thrall and the rest of the others ships upon arrival to the coast of Kalimdor, Vraul and a few surviving orcs desperately fought off attacking wildlife until Thrall managed to find and regroup them into the fold. Eventually, Vraul and the others had managed to find Grom Hellscream in battle against humans under the command of a certain powerful mage known as Jaina Proudmoore. In awe of his strength and fierce hatred against the pinkskins, Vraul decided to join him in his battles against them. Such willingness to draw the ire of the human attackers worried Thrall, as he left Grom and his Warsong clan to roam the lands of Ashenvale, and convinced Vraul to join them.
For a short while, Vraul felt out of place alongside the Warsong clan, but his fighting prowess impressed the clan, and Grom chuckled off Vraul's self-conscious thoughts and accepted him as an ally of the Warsongs. In their mission to gather lumber from the forests of Ashenvale, the orcs were sieged by angry, xenophobic creatures known as night elves, who saw the Warsongs and Vraul as terrible invaders and began a terrible conflict with them.
Corruption
While fighting against the skilled, elven archers, the demigod Cenarius showed up and greatly turned the tide against the orcs. Given his imperviousness to conventional attacks, the Warsongs felt that they required a new weapon to face such a foe - otherwise, death was certain for the orcs. One of the troll witch doctors sensed strange energies nearby, and brought Grom and the others towards a fountain of blood. As the tensions grew, Grom felt he had no choice but to drink the corrupted blood in order to save his people from extermination. Grom gave Vraul one opportunity to become a true ally with the Warsong Clan - drink the blood along with the others and join the them in their attacks against Cenarius. If Vraul refused to do so, Grom emphasized that he would be exiled and left to die within the forests, alone against the elven forces.
Convinced enough to follow through, Vraul engorged himself with Mannoroth's blood, and soon began feeling his body go through many terrible changes. His muscle size grew tremendously, his ferocity became unmatched by the mag'hari orcs he had left behind in Draenor, and once again, his skin color had changed - this time to a dark red color, a sign that Vraul had begun the transformation into a fel orc. With this newfound strength, Vraul joined Grom's clan in wiping out the elven forces wherever they tread.
Though aimed and fired at by dozens of archers, Vraul had personally cut through numerous night elves with both of his axes until one of them shattered on a sentinel's armor. Nonetheless, he held his remaining axe firmly and continued to rip through the Kaldorei defenses until victory was claimed and Cenarius was slaughtered by Grom.
As a part of the corrupted Warsong clan's offensive, Vraul had grown to have a fiery hatred towards Thrall, and an especially strong craving for the blood of Jaina Proudmoore, as she was the leader of a race that he so very much despised for many years. For many weeks, however, he followed the others in roaming through Ashenvale and cutting down swathes of trees and elves along the way.
Redemption
Some time later, while walking along the battle-worn hills of the Warsong hold, Vraul began to notice another strange change within his body. The terrible anger he held for Thrall had mysteriously vanished, and his skin had reverted to the green tinge he had beforehand. The remainder of the Warsong clan within Ashenvale had also returned to their pre-demonic states, but they were hopelessly confused as to the reasoning until they were told of Grom's mighty sacrifice against Mannoroth. Renewed in his ways, Vraul left Ashenvale to join Thrall's mighty forces, and offered his services towards the future of his people. These orcs would all go on to locate themselves within the deserts that were named Durotar, and establish the great city of Orgrimmar.
Settled In
Settling within Durotar was harsh, and many orcs fell prey to the wastelands that they now resided within. It was not until Orgrimmar had been finished under Thrall's reign did Vraul begin to realize that his physical body had started to slow down. The difficult landscape brought about some exhaustion in Vraul that he had never regularly witnessed before. However, given that he had experienced numerous battles in his time and had served alongside the ferocious Warsong clan, Vraul was entrusted within the Valley of Trials to teach new recruits the ways of the warrior and send them off to greater challenges.
While performing his usual duties, Vraul had soon discovered small demons lurking within a cave to the north. Alongside a few new, battle-ready recruits, Vraul had entered the cave to slay the foul beasts. While successfully slaughtering numerous lesser imps within, a Burning Blade warlock known as Yarrog Baneshadow watched down from a cliff he had been holding a ritual on and cast a terrible shadow bolt towards Vraul and knocked him down into the waters, nearly unconscious. While the adventurers were able to quickly handle the situation, such a loss brought Vraul to depression as he contemplated his worth to the Horde.
While still able to properly train the basic abilities that new recruits required in order to move on from the Valley, Vraul still maintained a sluggish demeanor and felt quite unworthy of life for a few years. In fact, when the the Dark Portal had opened and countless orcs had been drafted, Vraul was ordered to remain within the Valley - the others had oft-given him below average reports for his work. The same occurence happened when the Lich King revealed himself to the world, and again the Horde sent out fighters toward the new threat, yet refused to allow Vraul to join in on the battles. These rejections only furthered Vraul's contempt for his own being, and nearly brought him to self-mutilation. However, sometime after the Lich King had been defeated, Vraul sat up high on a cliff above the Valley's den and felt a tremendous earthquake shake the foundations of Durotar. The edge of rock that Vraul had been sitting on broke from the rest of the cliff, and Vraul, still sitting on the piece of rock, landed on an unfortunate orc trainee, killing him instantly.
Feeling that Vraul had become nothing but a nuisance towards the well-being of the orcs within the Valley, Vraul had been assigned off to the Barrens, wherein they hoped his recent clumsiness would happen too far away to effect them. Along the way north towards Razor Hill, Vraul decided to dart off from the path and enjoy the the shore, hoping to meditate in front of the waves. For many moments, he began to try and inquire the elements what his next challenge might be, and how he would avoid failing it. Just as he peeked one eye open, a rocket of assorted metals cobbled together appeared in the sky, and it quickly dropped in elevation and slammed down onto the shallow parts of the shore just a few yards from Vraul's position. Unsure of whether it was a friend or foe, Vraul held his axe behind him and slowly paced towards the rocket, ready for what might come out of it. As he made his way, the bottom of the rocket burst open, and out came a dripping wet yet nicely-clothed goblin, who Vraul managed to catch in his arms before the goblin could hit the floor.
Curious as to the figure, Vraul attempted to ask of his identity before he found the goblin scrambling and yelling in his arms, demanding that he be let down. Angrily demanding at least a thank you, Vraul found himself with nothing but a quick, "yeah, yeah, thanks, whateva...", from the ragged fellow. Afterwards, the goblin questioned Vraul as to where a safe place to stay would be, Vraul folded his arms and explained that he would help the goblin after he revealed his name.
The goblin stomped and yelled and grunted before finally losing energy, and he uttered that his name was Razilius Sparkdealer, and he had made a hasty retreat from his home of Kezan after some dirty business had erupted.
Vraul then urged the little goblin onward past Razor Hill and onto Orgrimmar, explaining that if he looked to survive in the lands he was in, he would have to pledge his allegiance to a commander of the Horde. The goblin smirked with a golden-toothed grin, and promised to do so as long as Vraul would, "get lost". Nodding in agreement, Vraul left Orgrimmar irritated but also glad he was able to save the goblin from most likely getting killed by Durotar wildlife.
As he exited from the gates of Orgrimmar, he poked his chest out and prepared himself for the journey to the Crossroads. There he found himself aiding the locals by carrying resources around the Barrens to various outposts. He found this to be a decently rewarding job, but deep down inside he wished to find himself on the front lines once again. After conversing with many of his superiors of this and failing to garner their interest for many months, a grand opportunity had finally arisen. A local warband had begun to build its encampment in defense of the Barrens, and their recruiter had passed by the Crossroads seeking able-bodied units.
The Thunderfist
Escorted by a particularly angry Blood Guard known as Rok'mash Bloodboil, Vraul was given notice that this was his last chance to prove himself a valuable asset to the Horde. Whether or not he had been bluffing, Rok'mash angrily threatened him with exile from the Horde itself if he could not find a place within the warband's forces. Once he arrived at the Thunderfist encampment, however, Vraul was surprised to be met with kindess from his new comrades. In fact, he was welcome with open arms by the leader of the warband, Garthak Thunderfist. It was also there that Vraul had once again met the familiar Aknug Stormrider character - the very same orc Vraul had rescued from Durnholde years prior, who at this point had become a higher-up and chief shaman within the warband. Before departing from the encampment, Rok'mash had warned Vraul and Aknug that an attack on the Crossroads was imminent and that the Thunderfist best send out the necessary troops to defend the area.
Soon after departing the area, his message rang true, as an army of Theramore sharpshooters and scouts had invaded the Barrens and sent out an attack straight for the Crossroads in an attempt to stem the Horde's tradeways. Prior to their assault upon the Crossroads village, they had nearly destroyed a nearby orc tower, setting it aflame and decimating the nearby population there. By this time, Vraul had become a messenger for the warband and quickly informed Garthak and the rest of the warband of the treacherous attack.
After the fighters had managed to enter the Crossroads and prepare for battle against the invaders, Vraul played a continual role as the primary advisor of Garthak as to the plans of their enemies. His experience within the battlefield
greatly aided the Thunderfist in successfully retaliating against the Theramore soldiers.
While many casualties occurred during the fight, including that of well-known Thunderfist lieutenant Dagg Battlevow, the warband had managed to strike down a tower that the Alliance troops had constructed and halted their movement against the Horde. Victory was had, at least for a short while.
About a week later, a strange sickness had spread throughout the shaman population within the encampment. Many of the visionaries had become very ill, and a few of the elders had perished. Given his high respect for the shamanic people, Vraul aided the shamans as best as he could, such as by carrying a weak Aknug to any place he needed to travel for a few days while the seer recovered. Unwilling to see yet another orc he cared for fall to demise while in his care, Vraul did his best to gather any services that Aknug needed in immediate fashion. Such a
dedication to his care garnered Vraul the respect of Aknug, and the two quickly became acquaintances outside of the warband's political structure.
When the wise Garthak Thunderfist had slowly faded off into obscurity and quietly stepped down from his position, the leadership was given to Aknug, who led the warband to a new age of prosperity. The weeks went by with the warband working together and gathering many new recruits, and Vraul was promoted to a decent rank within the warband due to his stout dedication towards the Thunderfist, where he was able to personally work with Aknug in the effort to bolster the offensive power of the warband.
Unfortunately, this era of progress was soon stopped when Aknug made an abrupt proclamation to the clan that he was given a mission by the Elder Shaman council to travel far off into Nagrand and perform his sacred duties as a shaman by foregoing his position and entering the Oshu'gun mountains in order to communicate with its spirits. Realizing that releasing his leadership position would require someone capable, Aknug offered a mak'gora challenge for the position. Vraul, eager to lead the warband in efforts against the Theramore humans, quickly charged to challenge his old friend, but he was too late. A particularly powerful shaman, former gladiator, and protege of Aknug himself by the name of Mograh Ragefury had stepped ahead of Vraul, and made the challenge against Aknug.
Successful in his approach, Mograh became the new Centurion of the Thunderfist, much to the sorrow of Vraul. Soon after Mograh's reign had started, Vraul quickly noticed the inactivity of the new leader, and spoke out amongst the populace of the warband about it. With intentions to hold a mak'gora of his own, Vraul spent much time refining his combat skills in preparation to take down the mighty Mograh.
One day, after easily defeating a weakling troll by the name of Zwenku in combat, Vraul was out on a mission when he had noticed numerous grunts following a high-ranking orc by the name of General Pulpine, rushing in the direction of the Thunderfist encampment. These orcs were racing there in order to disband the warband and draft some of the troops out into the Barrens, and others into Stonetalon to serve within the ranks of an orc overlord named Krom'gar. The reasoning for such a decision had been that the constant, volatile changes within the leadership had shown that the warband was unsuccessful in its goals, and that its troops would be better off formed within more organized sectors. The higher-ups of the Thunderfist did their best to contest the decision, but in the end their struggles were for naught, and the many members either agreed to their new assignments or stumbled off in protest. Vraul himself was ordered to return to his old post in the Crossroads until further notice.
With Us or Against Us
Some time after the warband he had been a large part of disbanded, Vraul began to grow doubts within his head. He wondered whether or not the Horde he had served would finally find the peace they had sought. Unfortunately, Warchief Garrosh Hellscream had begun to grow comfortable and began using his power to command his comrades into battles against the Alliance. Vraul was one of the orc warriors that had been brought to his attention. Once the expedition towards the unknown lands of Pandaria had been made concrete, a Kor'kron lieutenant by name of Ganash Skullsong had personally called for a meeting with Vraul, and questioned him as to his total loyalty towards the Orcish Horde. Stuttering through his answer, Vraul was found unworthy - though Ganash refused to outright murder one of his one kind. Ganash sent Vraul to manual labor within Razor Hill underneath the watchful eye of trusted guards, hoping that Vraul would learn the value of success through difficult struggle as he believes he had.
While plucking away at his duties, Vraul had glanced over towards the center of town to find Vol'jin and Baine Bloodhoof had gathered an army of fighters within. They called out to the people of the village and claimed that it was time to set things right for the Horde. In the midst of the confusion, Vraul made his way to find some stashed gear and followed the rebels as they marched towards the gates of Orgrimmar.
Therein, a massive wave of Kor'kron loyalists defended the city with a massive blockade. Rather than follow the sea of adventurers that made their way down into the depths of Garrosh's stronghold, Vraul had decided to stay above ground and defend his allies from a possible flank. After a brief moment, he heard a cackle from behind him. The voice was familiar.
Vraul turned around to find his older brother, Soran, armed to the teeth in prestigious combat armor which was emblazoned with Kor'kron signets. Vraul attempted to dissuade his brother from continuing on with Garrosh's ideals, but it was no use. Claiming Vraul to be a foolish young pup, Soran screamed in fury that his brother was the one responsible for their mother's early death. Nearly breaking down in sorrow, Vraul retorted these claims, and found himself backed by his rebel comrades. Soran himself was himself quickly surrounded by Kor'kron allies, and the two forces quickly drew out into an enormous battle. While the others had fought each other off evenly, Vraul and Soran came to harsh blows, each of them finding a comeuppance throughout their duel. Bringing themselves to exhaustion, Soran found one his arms rendered useless, while Vraul had countless bruises upon his sides that caused him to cough up blood, and he was disarmed of one of his axes.
Between deep gasps for air, Soran humorously insulted Vraul for taking up their father's wolf-mask, claiming that Soran had always seen Vraul as a weak runt for being unable to communicate with the ancestral spirits. Vraul responded by denying this claim, and that Soran entrusted Vraul to carry on his legacy should he pass early due to the fact that he always saw Soran as being too reckless and dishonorable to do so.
This angered Soran greatly, and with all of his remaining might, he furiously launched his hammer towards Vraul. The hammer darted fast, but it narrowly missed Vraul's head by mere inches and fell to the ground with a loud thump. Just as Vraul was trying to urge Soran to disengage, his brother charged forward and swung at him viciously. By instinct rather than thought, Vraul swung his remaining axe towards Soran and sliced open his brother's throat.
By the end of the siege, once Garrosh had been taken out of Orgrimmar in shackles, Vraul solemnly took his brother's remains to Razor Hill and buried them with a fang he had broken off of his father's wolf-mask.
The Dust Settles
With Garrosh deposed and a new, non-orc Warchief coming to power, the Horde's troubles seemed to finally be coming to a close. Meanwhile, Vraul had difficulty accepting such a change; while he was certainly elated at the fact that the berserk Hellscream was finally gone, the orcish pride within him caused him to feel almost insulted at the idea of a troll leading the entire Horde. To add even further insult, while dueling against a troll within Sen'jin village, Vraul had tripped from the momentum of an axe swing and his father's wolf-mask had fallen off of his head onto the ground.
In an attempt at being humorous, and at the same time to try and revitalize Vraul's motivation for the duel, the opposing troll picked up the mask and tossed it into the nearby waters, leaving it dampened. An enraged Vraul charged the troll and knocked him unconscious and into the waters with a powerful punch to the jaw. Ever since, Vraul has been left with a severe distaste for the trollish people and has refused to enter Sen'jin Village or communicate with the majority of trolls since.
Old Legends Revisited
_OG.png)
For some time after Orgrimmar was sacked and Vol'jin had begun his reign as warchief, Vraul toiled away within the city. He aided his fellow Horde brethren by carrying supplies where they were needed, and by defending trade caravans that would leave for Ashenvale, the Barrens, and Azshara. All was well until word arrived that there was trouble within the Blasted Lands, and that powerful Horde reinforcements were necessary in order to contain the dangers. As one of seemingly few orcs who recovered decently enough from the recent siege, Vraul gathered his equipment and set out alongside his brethren in order to face the imminent threats. Upon landing on a ledge overlooking the eastern shores of the Blasted Lands, Vraul found he and his brethren under assault by a large army of Mag'har orcs - whom which were armed to the teeth with both armor and weaponry. Countless goblin-esque siege cannons were found to be in use by these orcs.
Eventually, Vraul followed Khadgar, Thrall, and a large group of others to the Dark Portal, where they found the source that these attacking orcs were coming from. After a large battle, Khadgar gave order to storm the portal, which Vraul did - after which he found he and his brethren were not within the Hellfire Peninsula that was once connected to the portal. Instead, Vraul found himself in the somewhat-familiar lands of Tanaan Jungle, the place that once existed in Hellfire's place prior to Ner'zhul's portals wreaking havoc on Draenor. However, there was little time to contemplate this oddity, as Vraul found himself under barrage from countless orcs, all of whom were wearing heavy plate mail and were wielding sharp, well-crafted weaponry. After dodging obstacles left and right within the jungles, Vraul could only bare witness to the Dark Portal that they had entered being blown to smithereens by a giant tank in the center field of the eastern jungles. A return to home seemed hopeless, though Vraul realized that it mattered little as he and the others had narrowly escaped being butchered by the terrible orcish force that called themselves the Iron Horde.
Landing within his old stomping grounds of Frostfire Ridge, Vraul witnessed two familiar faces that left him speechless - Durotan, and his wife Draka, were alive and well, leading the Horde armies towards a large swathe of land wherein a sturdy garrison was to be built. Seeing the two of them, as well the faces of others who were known to be deceased, left Vraul scratching his head - he was not yet informed that he had entered a portal to an alternate version of Draenor's past, even after he was told by another orc, he still had to pinch himself in order to ensure he wasn't dreaming. And dreaming, he was not.
After aiding in the defenses of the garrison, Vraul managed to head out further into the forgotten lands - hoping to find even more familiar faces and locations within this world. Making his way to the town of his birth, his mouth went agape at the sight of his father - not only alive, but looking much younger than when Vraul had last seen him many years ago. Vraul struck a conversation with this orc to find out that not only was his older brother a small child roaming the town, but that his mother was once again pregnant and expecting soon - and the absurdity as to who was inside the womb left Vraul in quiet confusion. Unfortunately, all was not well for long, as Gul'dan had shown up and began corrupting the Iron Horde and summoning demons to destroy this version of Draenor.
After gathering what seemed like a mountain's worth of Apexis crystals for Khadgar, Vraul set out with others to make a siege against Hellfire Citadel, a terrible building within Tanaan Jungle that held Grom Hellscream in imprisonment, and also once hosted Gul'dan - who departed shortly before Vraul and his team arrived in order to create a terrible portal near the old Dark Portal. Vraul aided the team in fending off against terrible Iron Horde and Legion creations before he found himself gazing in horror at the gigantic, green portal - right as the demon lord Archimonde had stepped through it and into the world. As Gul'dan cackled at the foolishness of the Azerothian forces, Vraul found himself with no other option but to join the others as they stormed Archimonde's presence and began swinging at his ankles. Vraul witnessed many young heroes fall around him that day, as countless Legion forces were summoned in to aid Archimonde in dealing with their assault against him. Eventually, nearly the entire field was blackened with ash and cracked by the tremendous infernals dropping down onto it.
Eventually, however, the Eredar legion lord found himself unable to withstand the full might of both Draenor and Azeroth's forces, and he fell to the ground - however, just as he did, he sent Gul'dan into the still-glowing portal, closing it and leaving everyone unbeknownst to Gul'dan whereabouts. However, nonetheless, a victory was had that day, as Vraul witnessed both orc and draenei people embrace each other as their planet had been saved from the terrible might of the Burning Legion. Though he wished to say a goodbye to his parents within the world, he sadly found himself unable to - as the mages of the Horde had conjured the portals in order to return every Horde soldier back to Orgrimmar, and he was pushed along and forced to depart from Draenor forever.
Haunting of Old Memories
Returning to his homeland within the Crossroads, Vraul decided to take a trip to his old stomping grounds within the old Thunderfist ruins. With his trusty wolf, he was able to make it there safely. The buildings there had long been abandoned and broken, and nature had begun to reclaim the land with weeds and long grass. Injuries plaguing him from his time in Draenor had begun to take their toll, and he limped his way towards the small lake bordering the Ashenvale border where there was once a dock decorated with a shrine and other ornaments dedicated to the Thunderfist's fallen. Now, little remained near the waters, save for a small, particularly dilapidated boat. Vraul knelt down at the mouth of the lake, and closed his eyes in solemn contemplation.
His thoughts raced in his mind, thinking of all of the losses he has felt throughout his journey on Azeroth. Where once he had the friendship of his good friend Aknug to comfort him, he now only felt loneliness, and considered retiring from combat altogether. Vraul then decided to try and manage to do what he could not as a young orc within Nagrand and commune with the spirits surrounding the old grounds he once called home. For a few moments, nothing - not even a peep. However, the wind began to pick up, and the nearby trees began to violently sway in the wind. However, this was no benevolent force speaking out to him.
All of a sudden, the skies turned sickly green, and as Vraul stood back up, he could see countless flying objects over the horizon. Making his way back on his wolf, Vraul neared the Crossroads before nearly being obliterated by a falling colossus, him and his wolf falling over onto the ground. In horror, Vraul could only watch as a dreaded infernal picked itself up from the crater it had just made, and it roared in his direction. While attempting to grab his axes, he screamed in terror as his wolf companion was knocked away, its body left broken and bloody all over the ground. Just as the infernal was ready to charge Vraul, a small army of defenders assaulted the infernal from behind, and all worked together to slay it. One of the members of this force proclaimed that the Legion had returned, and Vraul joined them in defending the Crossroads for weeks as it was continuously sieged by numerous Legion forces.
Finally, the dust settled, and the Legion forces were sent away from the Barrens. However, all was not well, and the leading forces of both the Alliance and Horde had agreed that the Legion must be followed towards wherever they have come from in order to purge their threat for good. While still not fully recovered from his injuries from the Draenor war, Vraul had nonetheless decided to sign up to fight against the familiar foe that had returned.
Taking the long walk towards Orgrimmar, Vraul held his father's wolf helm in his hands for a few moments in silent thought before boarding a Horde ship that was headed straight for the Broken Isles, which was just south of the Northrend continent. Just as he was able to see the unknown lands coming into the horizon, the Horde's forces were assaulted by both falling infernals and wild felbats coming from the skies. The waves of the seas nearly caused the entire ship to capsize, but Vraul and the others managed to hold their own against the Legion's forces and land upon the Broken Shore. There, they were met with a tremendous amount of resistance, and while they managed to push forward, countless losses were had along the way.
Vraul followed his then-Warchief Vol'jin and former Warchief, Thrall, onto a ledge overlooking a terrible tower that was oozing with tremendous fel energies. There, on the ledge, they did their best to fight back against a seemingly infinite amount of Legion fel guards, felbats, and eredar warlocks. During this stage of the battle, Vraul found himself caught off guard by the blow of a mighty fel guard, and was saved in the nick of time by an Orgrimmar warrior slicing it open just before its intended strike. Exhausted and seeing no end to his enemy's assault, Vraul tried crawling his way to safety near a large boulder in order to catch his breath. As he sat there, bleeding from all over his body, his gasps for air began to grow weaker and weaker. Just as his eyes began to go black, Sylvanas Windrunner sounded the horn of retreat, and Vraul was picked up by a couple of his comrades back towards a Forsaken ship, wherein he was tended to by priests, who were able to heal him up just enough to save his life.
Returning to Orgrimmar, Vraul joined countless other injured fighters of the Horde in rest within its walls. Doubt had taken him early on, and he seemed to be ready to make the decision to finally retire from combat altogether at this point. After a few days, however, Vraul noticed that the room he had been in had become more empty. Where once there were many orcs inside with him, injured as he was, the room had but a few warriors left. He knew they had not left by their own doing. It was painfully aware to him that many of his people had begun to perish from their wounds. Lying in the bed next to him was an old, battered orc formerly of the Blackrock clan, conversed with him of this fact. His name was Lok'mar, and he admitted to Vraul that for a long time, he had held contempt for the new Horde led under Thrall's banner, believing that the orcs were better off extinct after what they had done on Draenor and during the three wars on Azeroth. Yet, he had begun to see over time that their people had truly begun to redeem themselves, and that, while they were and would forever be flawed, maybe the world did have a place in store for them in the future.
A day later, Lok'mar had succumbed to his wounds just as the others had. It was too much for Vraul to deal with at that point, and he stormed out of the room against the priests' orders. Yet through the tears of sadness that Vraul had fought against, it was no longer doubt that had clouded his mind. A certain anger began to take hold, though it was unlike that of which he faced while under the sway of Mannoroth's blood curse. This was a controlled anger - a more justifiable one, at that. Vraul swore to himself that he would not allow the Legion to cause the orcs any further suffering. Hearing of the Horde's further treks into the Broken Isles, Vraul demanded passage onto the islands once more. With his twin axes lost on the Broken Shore, Vraul purchased a new set of weaponry, steeling himself for what was to come next.
The Broken Isles
Though minimal Horde presence was felt upon the Broken Isles aside from a Forsaken-Gilnean war upon Stormheim, Vraul eventually made his way by ship towards Azsuna and quickly began cutting away at swathes of demon foes that walked the lands. Feeling very little loyalty towards Sylvanas and her personal goals, he instead decided on aiding the Kaldorei and later on the Nightfallen in quelling the Legion presence - not so much to aid them, but to get revenge for his people against the very force that once enslaved his people. Many battles were had upon the shores of Azsuna for some time, and soon the entire Broken Isles felt a siege of invading Legion forces throughout, which Vraul did his best to fight for some time. Much of this time was spent alongside the renewed Illidari faction, a group of demon hunters who had been released from their imprisonment in order to help with the cause. While Vraul held somewhat of a distrust of these characters, he nonetheless fought alongside them, focusing his efforts on the enemy at hand.
One With the Ironwolf
After months of dealing crippling blows to the Burning Legion forces within the Broken Isles and later the Broken Shore, Vraul had heard rumors that an elite force of heroes were going to be making their way to the Legion homeland of Argus alongside Velen. Mentally prepared to make his way and possibly never return, Vraul traveled back to Orgrimmar in order to gather any belongings from his bank and close out the account. While walking among the Valley of Honor, an orcish marching group carrying black-and-white banners emblazoned with a fang-mouthed logo passed by him. Intrigued, Vraul managed to gather the attention of their leader, Kulgar Ironwolf, and questioned him as to this movement. Kulgar informed Vraul that he led an orc-only warband settled in eastern Ashenvale, whose primary mission was in defense of the border of Ashenvale and Orgrimmar.
Although he had greatly wished to trek out into Argus in order to help with the final stand, Vraul knew he had made no clear promises just yet - and the nostalgia of his times with the Thunderfist Warband had clouded his vision. Within a few moments, Vraul had been convinced by Kulgar to join the Ironwolves. Kulgar instructed Vraul to gather his belongings anyway, and to bring them to their settlement, wherein he would be ritually initiated to their forces.
As the sun began to creep down over the horizon, Vraul made his way alongside the Southfury river and into Ashenvale, until he finally found the spike-filled encampment filled to the brim with the banners of the Ironwolf. Once within, he was met with a mighty force of orcish men and women, and alongside of few other new initiates, he was instructed to slice open his hand with a small, ceremonial dagger until blood was drawn, and to proclaim his allegiance to the warband.
A Meeting of Clans
A few days after joining up with the Ironwolf Clan, Kulgar had made an announcement that all of their people would be trekking out to Nagrand in order to meet with others for the bi-annual Kosh'Harg tradition. This meeting was one where numerous clans and warbands would come together to feast and fight while they conversed of their differing experiences. Making his way towards the Mag'har town of Garadar, Vraul arrived just in time to hear a few battlecries just before the traditional wolf race around Nagrand would begin. With a slight smirk, he saddled up onto his wolf, Stormrider, and promised to Kulgar and the others that he would find a clear victory. As the countdown ended, he and dozens of other orcs charged forth against the paths that circled the region. Vraul remained within close call of those in the front, and though he began to grow a tad bit exhausted from various wildlife attacking him and the rest from the trees, he eventually managed to take the lead after passing around the draenei town of Telaar.
Unfortunately, his rush of glory came to an abrupt halt, as Kulgar Ironwolf, flying overhead in watch, yelled out to Vraul that he was disqualified from the race. Confused and upset, Vraul strafed out of the path onto the grass and let the others pass by him. Unsure of why he would be disqualified, Vraul shouted out in question to his warlord. Kulgar pointed out that his shaman sensed a slight enchantment within Vraul's girdle that was granting him an extra bit of stamina in the race. Vraul looked down and in that moment remembered that he had indeed acquired a minor enchantment from his old shaman friend, Mograh Ragefury, a few years ago in the Barrens. Feeling that he had dishonored the noble tradition of the Kosh'Harg, Vraul decided to hop off of his wolf and walk the remaining way back towards Garadar. As he did, a few stragglers still making their way across had seen Vraul and asked him if he had been injured. When he revealed to them his situation, the others decided to hop off of their wolves and join him and help regain his honor. One of these orcs in particular was a orc huntress who introduced herself as Threska Tetherfang, a fellow Frostwolf who had also recently joined the Ironwolves. Vraul, while not the most talkative of orcs, found it difficult not to enjoy himself in conversation with her as they walked towards the finish line.
Threska, having to deal with other duties back at home, departed from the scene just after they made their way back to Garadar, and the two bid their farewells. After this, Vraul sat back on his wolf and joined the remaining orcs who had made it back in a trek to the Nagrand arena. Therein, Vraul witnessed plenty of duels that had occurred amongst them, though he himself was too tired to join in, and he respectfully declined. After the battles had ended and many more orcs went to return home, Vraul and Kulgar, along with about half a dozen remaining orcs went to finish their Kosh'Harg by meeting up near Oshu'gun. There, they would pay their respects towards the elders before they had decided to make their way home, as well.
A Golden Opportunity
Once he had made his way back to Ashenvale, Vraul began to aid his companions in whatever way he could. He would carry and chop lumber, bring in meat to be cooked from local Ashenvale wildlife, and fight alongside the warband against the Kaldorei forces that threatened their way of life. He rose quickly through the ranks, starting out as as scout, then becoming a grunt, before attaining the rank of a raider within the warband for his devotion to the cause. It wasn't long before Vraul was given the duty of walking within Orgrimmar and recruiting new orcs. Some days he had found success, and others he had returned with nothing but harsh rebuttal. Throughout his time, however, he had decided to enter the Wyvern's Tail inn, a place he had never before given the time of day. Within, he found a large variety of folks within who were more than eager to tell the tales of their lives. Settling in, Vraul grew comfortable speaking of his past, and being able to do so gave him a sense of comfort and release that he had not felt in many years.
Returning to the Ironwolf encampment, Vraul was met with Kulgar having set up another meeting with his people - this time for the defense of their lands. Kulgar split up his forces by way of rank, and so Vraul was grouped up with his few fellow raiders in prying around the outer borders of Splintertree Outpost. Along the way, Vraul and an orc hunter by the name of Gortok Hellthrash, had split up together within the outpost to enjoy a quick feast. As they ate, Vraul had mentioned to Gortok of visions he was granted one day when he was paying his respects to his old friend, Aknug, within the northern Barrens. Vraul told Gortok that he had seen bloodied deserts and a luminous mineral that had been spread across them. Guffawing, Gortok replied in laughter that perhaps he was speaking of the rumored new ore found within Silithus. Unsure but intrigued, Vraul managed to convince Gortok to sneak into the mines and see if his visions were possibly true.
The two orcs quietly walked into the mine and found little but rocks and a few carts of copper chunks inside. Cackling at Vraul, Gortok claimed Vraul to be a fool before smashing his the side of fist into the wall he began to walk out. As he did, a pile of rubble fell over from the side, revealing a tiny chest embedded in the wall. Breaking it open, the two orcs gasped in slight horror as they found an unseen mineral, glowing with a bright orange hue. Offering Gortok a slight smirk before returning to a face of worry, Vraul joined Gortok in burying the chest back into the wall before fleeing from the scene, returning to Kulgar with news that they had not found anything suspicious.
That night, as they talked about their find, the orc huntress Threska came up near them after overhearing their conversation. Acting as if she had heard nothing, she offered to walk along the paths of Ashenvale in order to hunt some prey for the warband. The two orc men agreed, and the trio head out and gathered what they could in the drizzled night. As they did, Threska continued to question them as to the success of their mission. Managing to get Vraul into revealing that they had indeed found an ore, she was delighted to hear that they had accomplished something. Vraul, however, proclaimed that all they had found was gold, and that they had left it where they found it so as not to cause a disruption. Sensing Vraul's lies, Threska nodded with an unconvincing giggle as the three made their way back to camp.
Love in War
A couple of weeks later, Vraul and the others had been gathered within the center of camp - Kulgar had another announcement. There was to be an honorable tournament, a warband-wide Mak'Rogahn, which would settle with the victor deemed as Champion of the Ironwolf Clan. Seeing his chance to become something great amongst his people, Vraul clapped in joy as he readied himself for battle. The tournament was held within the center of their camp, and rules dictated that combatants be minimally clothed and with no weapons. Gazing in awe at the battle prowess of his fellow members, Vraul nearly missed his chance when he was called up to fight. Steeling himself for a vicious battle, Vraul stood upon the field to see that an orcish peon known as Lugdor had been deemed his opponent. Chuckling at the ease he believed he would find victory, Vraul listened intently for the countdown. As it ended, Vraul matched up against Lugdor in a tremendous fight that took him by great surprise. The peon showed himself to be a worthy foe, punching through into Vraul's chest and gut as the two traded blows. Vraul attempted to end the peon's fight by grasping around his back, trying to slam him to the ground, but the peon skittered out and retaliated. Not prepared to give it his all, Vraul found himself nearly in the face of defeat when he roared out in anger after being smacked in the nose by Lugdor's elbow. As the bloodfury took him, Vraul proceeded to beat Lugdor down with a tremendous blow, sealing his further place in the tournament. As the peon stood back up in sadness of defeat, Kulgar himself came upon Lugdor, patted on his shoulder, and proclaimed to the warband that he had been highly impressed with the peon's ability in combat. Vraul himself, while slightly irked by almost being outmatched by a peon, congratulated Lugdor as the latter was given the rank of Senior Peon for his efforts.
As the fights continued, Vraul became annoyed by the loud ramblings of one of the female orcs known as Grolka, who shouted out against the men in their fights. Seeking to quiet the insults, Vraul went to step in and challenge the orc woman before Kulgar had inserted himself into the Mak'Rogahn. Disappointed, Vraul watched on as the warlord and the warrior met up in the center. This disappointment quickly turned into awe, as the orc woman managed to completely decimate Kulgar in combat, finding herself nearly untouched as she proceeded to take down the warlord and claim victory against him.
Moments after, Vraul was entered into his second battle, this time against one of other orcish women, one who was more quiet. Nonetheless, she proved to be quite deadly herself. Vraul managed to get in a few blows before he, too, was floored and knocked out of the Mak'Rogahn. Believing that he had failed, Vraul departed from the grounds for a few moments as he grunted out in anger at his loss. After some coaxing by Gortok, he returned to watch the rest of the tournament play out, and in the end, Grolka had defeated all comers, including Kulgar for a second time. After Kulgar had managed to climb up from the ground and dust himself off, he gathered the warband in celebrating Grolka's victory and promotion to Champion. Vraul gave a short clap before heading out under a tent, wherein he would meet with the familiar Threska Tetherfang, who had also been wounded from an early defeat. The two struck up conversation in the night, and Vraul began to grow close to Threska. As the two talked, they were interrupted by a mage known as Krokmuld, who had questioned them as to whether he was interrupting anything important. The two others shook their heads, and after conversing further about the Mak'Rogahn and having to look forward, Vraul split from the group and head off to find rest.
The Blood of the Earth
Over the next few weeks, while recruiting within Orgrimmar, Vraul and Threska began to grow fond of each other. Over time, the two found themselves enjoying their time within the Wyvern's Tail, getting drunk and laughing at each other's stories. As they continued to perform their duties for the warband, the two began to accept each other as mates, which was especially easy to do so as both were of the Frostwolf clan. Though Threska was decently younger than Vraul, she enjoyed his rugged wisdom, just as much as he enjoyed her energetic personality. Many in the warband began to notice this relationship forming, and they applauded the two with glee. However, their relationship quickly drew the quiet ire of Gortok Hellthrash, who had secretely pined for Threska for a few months, though unsuccessfully. One night, as the sun began to set, Kulgar had called for another meeting with the warband. Kulgar revealed that to the many orcs that a new ore named Azerite had been granted to them, and that they would use this ore to empower their weaponry. Cringing at the thought, Vraul let out a small grunt that gathered Kulgar's attention. Questioning Kulgar as to his goals, he was soon joined in by Threska and another orc warrior by the name of Ookthron, who both also believed that the ore would do more harm than good to their people. Scoffing at the thought, Kulgar demanded that they obey his commands and dismissed them.
Some time later, Vraul confided in Threska of his visions and convinced her that they should hide the Azerite away so that the warband couldn't use it. Krokmuld joined in on the conversation, and quickly agreed with this plan. In the dead of night, the three orcs disguised themselves and found the Azerite hidden with one of the towers, taking it far away and out of Ashenvale entirely. As they trekked out, the three came upon the Stonetalon Mountains, and walked into the Horde outpost formerly led by the late Overlord Krom'gar. They decided to stash the azerite within a hidden chest inside of the armory, and nonchalantly fled back to their camp, assured that they had rid themselves of the possibly corrupting mineral.
As Vraul waved the other two off for the night, he returned to his quarters and stripped himself of his hood. Just as he unfolded it off of his neck, he found himself pushed against a wall and punched in the gut numerous times. After taking some heavy hits, he managed to exert his strength to push the ambushers back and get a look at who they were. He looked on in horror as the menaces that attacked him were clearly of the Laughing Skull clan, as all three had various body paint over their bodies, and they wore sharp-toothed necklaces and skull-shaped masks. Noting the three orcs' beady-eyes gazing at him in anger, Vraul demanded to know why they had come for him. The tallest of the bunch proclaimed his following of Thandolcran, and that he and the others were there to finish off the job Thandol had wished done long ago. Afterwards, he ordered the two others to grasp for Vraul's arms, which they charged for with tremendous speed. With a cackle, the leader slowly sauntered towards Vraul, who was once again pinned against the wall.
Grasping his blade, the leader promised Vraul that his death would be swift and merciful. Before he went to swing his blade, he lifted his mask up to look at Vraul face-to-face, sniffing at Vraul's neck and ears, and licking at his chin. The leader claimed that once they were done with him, they would drag his body out of the garrison and feast upon his remains, so that there would be nothing left of Vraul but bones resting upon the grounds. With this final comment, Vraul became greatly enraged, and took advantage of the leader's mask being up. With a swift headbutt, Vraul managed to push back and daze the Laughing Skull leader, and he quickly turned his attention to the other two, using his great size to push himself forward and then pull his left arm arm back at an angle that forced the other two Laughing Skull ambushers to collide with each other. Picking up his axes, Vraul began to give in to the bloodlust, and within a few moments of struggle, the three invaders were left bloody and in pieces all over the quarter grounds. With no other choice, Vraul snuck out before the sun came up, and buried the three orcs near the Southfury River before heading out to slumber.
The next day, Gortok awoke Vraul with a smack to the face, and ordered him to follow towards the Southfury River. Worried that Gortok had found the shallow graves, Vraul prepared himself to explain his action. As the two made their way near its waters and far from camp, Gortok approached Vraul in anger at what he and the others had done with the Azerite nodes. He angrily revealed that he had overheard their plans hours earlier, and sent in a hidden scout to track their movements. After a growl and a shrug from Vraul, Gortok then admitted that he had brought the Azerite back to their camp, and stashed it in a hidden spot, locked away until it was to be used appropriately. Vraul replied in fury that the Azerite would do the warband harm, but Gortok insisted that Vraul merely seeked to use the ore for his own purposes. Appalled at this notion, Vraul stormed back to camp in anger, knowing full well he could do nothing but watch as fate took its hold. His only resolve is that the others had not yet found the Laughing Skull bodies, and he hoped they never would.
Envisioning a Painful Circumstance
A few days after realizing that the Ironwolf Clan would most certainly use the Azerite ore to its full effect, Vraul decided to once again trek out into the northwestern Barrens in order to seek guidance from his friend, Aknug. Without telling any of his band members his plan, Vraul set out towards his old Thunderfist encampment, searching for answers. The travel across Ashenvale was without concern, and he had made it close to his destination when he had found the pathway to the old camp infested with harpies. Vraul found himself in a few scuffles with the flying, screeching menaces, but managed to defend himself properly, even if clawed up a bit. After taking many harpies down, Vraul continued to walk up to the pathway and towards his old Thunderfist grounds. As per his usual yearly tradition, Vraul beseeched the spirit of his old friend, Aknug, as to whether or not his presence would cause harm to the Ironwolves. After a few moments, he began to see what he believed to be the spirit of Aknug in his vision, a sight he had never seen appear in all of the times he made made the journey. Vraul could only look on in awe as it proclaimed that he was indeed putting his people in harm's way by remaining within their ranks, and that he should make himself scarce until the Laughing Skull threat has died down. Just as Vraul attempted to ask further, the spirit dissipated into a million sprites in front of him, and he solemnly made his way back.
As he nearly made his way up to the edge of the cliff, Vraul noticed his body had become slumped over, and his vision began to grow blurry until finally, all went black. Awaking many hours later, Vraul was left dazed and confused, and he had fallen down hill back towards the bottom of the pathway. Unbeknownst to him, one of the harpies managed to place a hex on him, leaving his mind riddled with confusion and anxiety as he found himself lost in the wilds.
For a couple of weeks, Vraul could do nothing but fight for survival in the wilds of the northwestern Barrens, fending off against harpies and wildlife as he tried to find his way to civilization. After weeks of hunger, and having his body and clothes ravaged, an orcish raider patrol had found Vraul and gathered him up on one of their wolves, taking him back to the safety of the Crossroads. Thankful for their help, Vraul offered them a feast, which they respectfully declined, before he bid them farewell and darted off back to the Ironwolf encampment.
Therein, Vraul was met with his allies in worry about his disappearance. While trying to fight the crowd, he did his best to find Threska, though she was not in the area. Darting off, Vraul remembered that she might be recruiting more members in Orgrimmar. Searching far and wide, he failed to find her at first. Looking to distract himself, Vraul decided to walk about trying to recruit more members until Threska might show up. While arguing with an elderly mystic, Vraul spotted Threska walking alongside an orc she was recruiting, and led the mystic along with him to her. Trying to gather her attention, Vraul was offered nothing but short growls and hand waves before he understood that she was busy. After failing to recruit the mystic into the warband, Vraul attempted to return to base camp. However, a group of armored trolls and forsaken surrounded Vraul, and ordered him to follow them. Vraul, seeing that he was no match for their numbers, agreed, and he followed them to the top of the armory within the Valley of Honor. The group questioned him as to his allegiances, and inquired him as to what he knew about the Azerite. Vraul decided to play dumb and told them he was just a mere scout of the warband, unaware of the ore. One of the forsaken leaders went up to try and beat the information out of Vraul, but he was stopped by a troll monk, who blocked the way and proclaimed that Vraul was useless to them one way or the other and that they would find the information elsewhere. In stolid agreement, the Forsaken let Vraul go, but not before warning him that should he know more than he admitted, they would find and capture him.
Returning to the Ironwolf camp, Vraul peered around for a few moments until he saw Threska enter minutes later. He went to talk to her, but before he could, Krokmuld grabbed for his shoulder and told him to wait. Krokmuld then led Vraul outside of the camp, wherein he notified Vraul that Threska was heartbroken at Vraul's disappearance, and saw his being away without her as a sign he did not take the relationship seriously. Not believing in Krok's words, Vraul fled out back out of Ashenvale in sorrow.
In terrible sadness, Vraul eventually made his way towards the Broken Isles once again, hoping to die in battle against the demons there. Prior to taking off, he walked by the inn within Dalaran and decided on having a few drinks before ending it all in glory. As he slammed down his third cider, Vraul felt a large hand pat down on his shoulder. Krokmuld had sensed Vraul might decide on something rash, and met him again personally. As he talked to a belligerent and angry Vraul, Krokmuld offered Vraul a crokolisk tooth held on by some string - the same tooth he had given to Threska some time ago. Realizing that he had truly made a dire mistake, Krokmuld encouraged Vraul to try and do what he could to salvage the relationship.
Notifying Vraul that Threska was heading out in search of guidance from her ancestors in Frostfire Ridge, Krokmuld promised to teleport himself and his own mate alongside Vraul near Threska's location. In agreement, Vraul allowed Krokmuld to send him forth. As Krokmuld, his mate Rulkah, and Vraul landed within the alternate version of Draenor, Vraul felt queasy from the teleportation and threw up in the snowy hills, much to the laughter of Krokmuld. As the trio made there way to a ritual cave filled with numerous orcs surrounded by a large bonfire, Krokmuld told Vraul to wait within as he gathered Threska. After a few moments of waiting, Vraul heard the footsteps of his mate, and darted towards her.
Admitting to Threska that he had messed up badly, Threska herself felt sorrow for her own actions. The two apologized to each other, nodding in the illumination of the bonfire. Threska then revealed that she had spoken with the spirits, and that they had told her that their relationship went against their wishes. Nonetheless, she admitted to Vraul that her feelings were great, and that if Vraul could keep his promises, she would disregard the spirits' message and remain with him. The two teary-eyed orcs embraced each other at the awing of Krokmuld and Rulkah, and rekindled their relationship within Frostfire Ridge in a passion.
The Wolf Riders
A week after returning home from Frostfire Ridge, Vraul woke up to the sound of a war horn going off and he scrambled to gather his gear before heading towards the center of camp. Finding himself surrounded by his warband members, Vraul peered forward and saw Kulgar had called in another meeting. Kulgar proclaimed that his scouts had found out the Kaldorei had begun planning an offensive on their encampment, and that all forces were to get ready to defend immediately. Just as he did, a large treant had stomped out over the fence of their camp, followed by a squadron of elven rangers. Vraul and the others quickly turned around and charged forward, unwilling to give the Kaldorei any quarter. Many orcs and elves were felled through the rapid firing of arrows and swinging of blades. As Vraul began cleaving at the treants ankles, he felt a swift arrow pass by his ear, barely missing him. As he looked back, he saw Threska standing upon a cliff offering a rather embarrassed look. Vraul growled for a moment before being kicked back by the treants massive leg, knocking him nearly unconscious. As the battle waged on, the Ironwolf forces managed to push the Kaldorei out of the region, claiming victory for the day.
After the battle was over, Vraul went back to his resting place to treat his wounds. After bandaging himself up, he was invited by the other raiders to head out towards Ratchet in order to catch the remaining sun. Vraul, Threska, Krokmuld, Rulkah, and Atana had all traveled out on their wolves towards Ratchet and proceeded to lay down on the beach, enjoying the night in peace. Though Vraul nearly drowned in his drunken haze, the friends all proceeded to laugh and cannonball into the waters, enjoying the slight peace they had been allowed.
The next night, as they returned to camp, Kulgar had once again held a meeting for an major announcement. A new rank had been installed within the warband, that of Worg Rider, and it required a painful mission to be completed in order to secure it. Kulgar stated that a member must have already attained the rank of raider, after which they would carry a large boulder backs towards enemy territory. From there, they would have to slay the leader, gather their head, and then head towards the highest nearby mountain. After that, they were required to tame a worg to ride, and upon that they would carry both the boulder and the elven captain's head back to base camp, wherein they would receive their glorious promotion.
Seeing another chance to attain glory, Vraul quickly accepted and became the first orc to try for the rank of Worg Rider. Gathering the mighty boulder with frustration, Vraul stumbled westward until he managed to find a small camp of elves situated near a tree-tower. Vraul laid down the boulder and successfully managed to slay countless elves with ease, carving through them like slices of cheese, until he finally worked his way up to the top of the tower, face to face with the elven captain. The captain was an expert at ranged weaponry, and managed to sling countless arrows at Vraul's armor until Vraul could take no more beatings. Hearing of his raider's failure to attain victory, Kulgar brought with him a rescue squad that were lying in wait nearby and managed to save Vraul before it was too late. Unwilling to shed further blood, the elven captain acquiesced to them taking Vraul away, though with the promise that they would be much more guarded and eager to kill should the Ironwolf forces return. Kulgar and the others took Vraul back with a grim nod and brought him to the shamans for healing.
Angry at his failure, Vraul decided to try and rekindle his old love of bowman-ship, and he gathered an old, crotchety bow from the armory to practice on. From then on, Vraul became fully intent on becoming the first Worg Rider, watching in hidden glee as many orcs after him failed to attain their ranks, as well. That is, until one Ookthron Goresnarl, a massive wall of orcish fury, managed to claim the title with ease. Vraul offered him praise for his efforts, though secretly he was upset about his own failure for quite some time.
Ironwolf Departure
While training his bowmanship skills on dummy targets within the garrison, Vraul was eager for another calling by Kulgar in order to truly test his skills. Just as he flung an arrow towards a dummy, missing completely and sending the arrow flying over the garrison gates, Vraul peered back over his shoulder to find Krokmuld and and Threska standing behind him. The two proclaimed that they wouldn't be long for the warband, and, to Vraul's horror, Threska admitted that she would be traveling far away from Ashenvale, joining Krokmuld in new pursuits. Vraul looked on confused at first, starting to question what this would mean for their relationship, before Threska interjected that it would have to end. Vraul's prying and prodding only served to irritate Threska, as she began to say her farewells just as Kulgar screamed from the top of his lungs at the barracks for all Ironwolf forces to meet up at the courtyard.
Once all of the orcs - Threska, Krokmuld, and Vraul included - had gathered around, Kulgar spoke highly of his people, and that he would be throwing a large banquet for them in celebration of their clan's anniversary. Wrapping up, Kulgar demanded that all members make an appearance, regardless of how they felt towards his recent ideals - this being said while he gave a slight sneer towards the three.
Hours later, Vraul showed up in casual garb with his newly-tamed pet strider, which he had wanted to show off to his fellow clanmates. However, given the news, he slowly slumped towards the long, decorated table, and peered down during most of the celebration. While conversing with one of the other warriors about his strider, Vraul felt a slight bit of pride, beaming at his accomplishment being talked about, and he tried to show off by ordering his pet to play dead. The strider fell down at his command, and Vraul crossed his arms with a smile. After a few minutes, however, it became clear that due to a lack of proper nourishment, Vraul's strider had indeed actually fallen to the floor, lifeless. Vraul dropped his face to the table in sorrow as the other orcs gawked, and his strider was taken away towards the stove to be added to the banquet feast.
While the feelings of embarrassment had still been fresh, Threska and her traveling friend Mozzu had stepped inside the banquet hall and sat down across the table from Vraul, at Mozzu's behest. Both Threska and Vraul refused to speak to each other, and Vraul decided quickly to stand up and head towards the opposite side of the table, away from his former mate. On the other side, Vraul was met with Ookthron and others, who encouraged Vraul to have a few drinks and lighten up. Within a half an hour, however, a slight buzz had turned into complete inebriation. After walking to the back to take a look at his roasting strider, Vraul became immersed in his anger, and stormed out towards Mozzu and Threska. As he began shouting in fury, Threska began to wail in sorrow. She quickly stood up and fled towards the upstairs, away from Vraul's terrible rage. The disrupting events garnered the attention of Kulgar, who sat Vraul down in front of Mozzu, and demanded that each individual apologize for their misdeeds. After some time, Vraul agreed to apologize, though he afterwards departed from the banquet and set forward back to the garrison.
The next day, as Vraul was again shooting his arrows against training dummies, he had peered out to find Threska and Mozzu gathering their belongings, and his anger once again grew. After being taunted by her former mate, Threska decided to challenge Vraul to a duel of ranged expertise before she would make her way out of the garrison forever. Vraul agreed, hoping to at least prove to Threska that he was not weak and dishonorable.
The battle raged, and though Vraul had been rusty with his skills, he had managed to match Threska in battle as the two flung their arrows and set their traps against one another. Volleys of arrows shot all around the garrison, much to the awe of the other clanmates who had seeked shelter but nonetheless peeked out in awe of the duel. After a few minutes, the two began to grow exhausted, and Vraul once again taunted Threska, demanding that she yield. Laughing in refusal, Threska began to draw a patient shot towards Vraul, who in retaliation began to do the same. As the two were about to let out their final blows, Vraul stepped back and stumbled on a thorn bush, his arms flailing as he lost focus. Just as he did so, Threska gasped in horror as her aimed shot went straight for Vraul's torso, sending the latter down onto the floor, unconscious.
Ready to gloat over her victory, Threska felt a bit of worry after a few moments of Vraul being unresponsive. She prodded and pleaded with Vraul to wake up, but it was no use. She cried out towards the others for help, and soon Kulgar himself came by to survey the damage. Finding little signs of life, Kulgar proclaimed that the Frostwolf veteran may just have perished in glory. Angry at Kulgar's stolid response, Threska demanded that Kulgar gather a shaman to save Vraul from an imminent death.
After a few moments, an unaffiliated shaman was brought back from Orgrimmar to save Vraul's life. After some time pressing the elements for aid, Vraul began to draw an exhausted breath. The other began to sight in relief, and quickly they sought to get him off of the cold ground and into one of the huts. Kulgar ordered two of his warriors to carry Vraul out, and they took his large, stiff frame over their shoulders. As they brought him out, Vraul's wolf mask fell from his face onto the ground, which Threska plucked up in sadness as she followed them in. After some time of getting the arrow out of his abdomen and wrapping his wounds, the shaman and others noticed that the hut began to grow crowded from many clanmates peering in to check on Vraul's well-being. Kulgar immediately howled in anger and demanded many of the others to return to their posts. After some time of caressing Vraul's head, Threska was shocked to find Vraul would regain enough consciousness to sit up and gaze over at those who had saved him.
Just as Kulgar had assured Vraul that he would be okay, he was met with Vraul proclaiming that he would be leaving the Ironwolf clan and heading out back to his old outpost -- the Crossroads. Just as Kulgar had begun to realize what he was being told, Threska and Mozzu also admitted to Kulgar of their plans to depart, as well. The warlord began to grow aghast and angry, and he could do little but watch, mouth agape, as Threska, Mozzu, Krokmuld, and Vraul made their way out of the hut with their belongings.
Saying their goodbyes, Threska and Vraul embraced for one last time with a smile and a joke about the "gold" that they had gone through so much trouble to hide. Vraul then waved to his comrades as he walked out to the stables. Slowly and with an exhausted grunt, he climbed up on his trusty wolf, Stormrider, and head out westward, fading into the horizon, far away from home - far away from the watching gaze of Thandolcran.
Preparations for War
Making his way southward, Vraul decided to see for himself the damage that had apparently been done within Silithus. Upon his wolf, Vraul trekked through the Barrens before boarding ship on the Speedbarge ship towards the border of Tanaris. From there, he traveled far and out towards Un'goro, fighting through numerous wildlife threats along the way. After a month or so of travel from Ashenvale, with numerous new scars made along the way, Vraul finally made his way into Silithus, absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of the titanic sword that had been plunged into the earth.
After coming back to his senses, Vraul managed to find a Horde outpost in the northwest Silithus, pledging to help their forces in whichever way he could. For weeks on from there, Vraul encountered numerous Alliance spies, and fought tooth and nail to protect the goblins that were mining the poking Azerite near the wound that the sword had caused. While still quite angry at the idea of using Azerite as a means of weaponry, Vraul did little to question the motive as he was in no position to.
Fortunately for him, a few orcish commanders had gotten terribly drunk one night in their tent, and Vraul managed to sneak in amongst the crowd. Within, the other orcs spoke of how they had heard from their own superiors that Sylvanas had begun amassing an army within Orgrimmar that would lay siege upon Ashenvale and beyond. Before quietly departing from the tent aghast, he managed to also hear that they would be using the azerite shipments to decimate the kaldorei forces and drive them out of Kalimdor for good.
Once he had made due of his commitments towards the Horde war machine in Silithus, Vraul decided to take the next flight out and back towards Orgrimmar. With the promise of one of the grunts he had made friends with that his wolf would be cared for and returned to Orgrimmar in time, Vraul decided to take a detour from Orgrimmar and back to the garrison of the Ironwolves.
Once landing upon the pathway headed towards Ashenvale, Vraul waved the wyvern away and darted out towards the garrison to find that it had been completely overtaken by kaldorei forces. Regretting that he had let the wyvern go, he quickly dashed down the path by the Southfury River, and made his way into Orgrimmar. From there, Vraul made his way to the Valley of Honor in hopes to find the Ironwolves in their usual recruitment post. The post was abandoned at that point, and so Vraul decided to wait outside of the tavern, pacing back and forth until at least one member would show up.
Finally, after about an hour, Ookthron Goresnarl appeared, and greeted Vraul, as well as an orc Vraul was standing by, another Ironwolf member known as Ogeth. Vraul mentioned that he wished to return to the warband posthaste, admitting that he felt safe within their ranks once more. Ookthron was wary of allowing Vraul back in, as he felt Kulgar might still hold hatreds towards him for abandoning their warband the way he did. Ookthron offered to take Vraul with him and Ogeth as they settled their duties along the Crossroads and Ratchet. Along the journey, Vraul admitted the reason for him leaving the warband in such haste, telling him of the night that the Laughing Skull ambushers had found him, and why they had been looking for him. By the end of the night, Ookthron was still nervous about letting Vraul back into the Ironwolves, which had been firmly established as a clan rather than as a warband at this point. Ookthron promised Vraul that he would put in a good word, and the three managed to return to Orgrimmar for slumber as night set in.
The next day, Vraul met with Kulgar and convinced him to let him rejoin the clan after vaguely explaining his situation. Kulgar obliged to Vraul returning, but promised sternly that should he leave again, he would face permanent banishment from the Ironwolves for good, to which Vraul accepted. Over the next few weeks, Vraul managed to find both new and old friends who welcomed him back into the Ironwolf family with open arms. Eager to regain his lost honor, Vraul worked exceedingly hard to prove himself a worthy member, and managed to not only rise up to the rank of Worg Rider, but he also conquered the Mak'rogahn challenge, which granted him the rank of Champion of the clan for the month.
While the Ironwolves were victorious in reclaiming and defending their old garrison, they would never have imagined the battles that would lie ahead.
War of Thorns
Many weeks later, Vraul awoke within his hut to the sound of war horns and drums. Quickly gathering his gear, he head out to find his clanmates rallying towards the center of the outpost in front of Kulgar. Once all of the orcs had stood in position, Kulgar commanded them to follow him westward, wherein the Ironwolves would meet up with Saurfang's troops that were charging towards Astranaar. All of the Ironwolves mounted up and swiftly darted westward, clearing through the forests until they found the burning village, which was sprawled with Kaldorei corpses. From there, Vraul and the others marched even further, out into Darkshore, wherein they managed to catch up with Sylvanas' squadron at the border. Though a wall of wisps guarded the darkened forests, many Horde troops would eventually make their way with flying machines that shot down both wisps and trees, distracting the major force from the oncoming army. Finally, Sylvanas managed to open the wisp wall just enough to let the Horde troops inside, and Vraul followed them in cutting down numerous furbolg and kaldorei sentry guardians.
From there, Vraul followed his Ironwolf clanmates in decimating the landscape of its inhabitants, capturing an assault base from a furbolg tribe's home, and burning countless trees along the way. After much time of a near one-sided battle, they finally made their way into the elven village of Lor'Danel, where they met up with Saurfang's troops who had routed their way in from a pathway in Felwood. From there, Vraul helped in capturing civilians and slaying all of Lor'Danel's guards as a last push towards conquering the area.
Once the Horde had established their foothold on Darkshore completely, Vraul sighed in relief, believing that the battle had finally come to an end. Though he hated the Night Elves with a fiery passion, deep down he knew that this war was lacking in honor, and he wished for it to be over with haste. While celebrating the victory quietly, he went to turn southward when he overheard the siege weapons around them being activated. Turning his head over his left shoulder, Vraul witnessed in horror as his brothers and sisters began to assault the great tree, Teldrassil, with fiery shots to its bark. Within short time, the entire tree had been enveloped in flames, and it began to twist and bend from the attack. Soon enough, the entire skyline had been covered in a gigantic mass of smoke that nearly choked out the orcs.
With a solemn frown, Vraul followed the orders of his commanders in returning to their base in Ashenvale. As nightfall arrived and his clanmates celebrated within the encampment, Vraul sat on a bench and watched them silently, certain now that this war was far from over.
The Siege of Lordaeron
As word spread that the Alliance had begun to sail its way into the northern border of Tirisfal Glades, Vraul hopped on a ship alongside his fellow soldiers to make his way there in order to defend the Undercity. After getting off at Silverpine Forest, he proceeded to dart forward until he reached the border of Tirisfal Glades. To his horror, he could see that the Alliance had begun their destruction of the land and had just annihilated the Forsaken village of Brill. Deciding to enter through the sewers, Vraul found himself blocked out for a few moments before one of the guards managed to overhear his knocks. After he was confirmed an ally, he was allowed in, and as he walked through the Undercity, he could see that numerous Horde forces had already begun to stage their defenses. While Saurfang and Sylvanas were compiling their strategies, Vraul decided to converse with his fellow orcs as to their own in the battle ahead.
After some time conversing within its depths, the horns of war sounded, and soon after a large explosion could be heard on the upper levels. He then followed the others towards ground level and, after overhearing an encouraging battlecry from Saurfang, out towards the front gates. He could only look on in shock as Alliance army was countless in number, and their siege weapons were in greater count and size than he had ever seen.
Nonetheless, Vraul charged forth alongside his allies towards certain doom and with axes raised against his foes. Throughout the fight, he suffered numerous cuts and bruises at the hands of the combined force of the Alliance. The battle came to a near standstill until Sylvanas decided to send out her blightspreaders. Refusing to take part in such a dishonorable method, Vraul took up a few gas masks without a plague-gun attached, equipped one onto his own face, and went out to mask and carry dozens of wounded soldiers back to safety.
Victory for the Horde seemed almost certain until Jaina Proudmoore showed up in a gigantic ship, which she kept floating in the sky through her magical abilities. Once Jaina unleashed a cannonball strike against one of the walls and knocked it down, Vraul followed the rest of the Horde back into the city, wherein they charged towards the rear end. Soon after they did, the armies of the Alliance made their way in through the other side and met the Horde forces face-to-face. Vraul felt confident in his ability to fend off his foes until a squadron of Void Elves managed to portal their way in, after which a squadron of gnomish tanks had arrived as well. Yet another massive battle was waged, and Vraul suffered even further punishment while cutting down more Alliance enemies.
Moments later, Vraul overheard the sound of retreat made by Baine Bloodhoof, and he followed the rest of the Horde in making their way back towards the courtyard. After doing so, he witnessed Saurfang walk across the bridge, meeting Sylvanas head on and berating her for the hidden plan he had just discovered. As Saurfang decided to stay put at the mercy of the oncoming Alliance army, Vraul felt a piece of him wishing to stick alongside his High Overlord. However, before he could think to do so, he was pushed forward towards the throne room, wherein he and many others were soon taken out through a portal that led to a warship flying nearby the Undercity's walls.
After pushing forward to get as good of a look as he could at the city, he once again could only look on in shock as the entire place began to crumble from explosions of blight that Sylvanas and Nathanos had set off. Once Sylvanas and the other Horde leaders had boarded the warship, it set sail far away and back towards Orgrimmar. Vraul remained silent the entire trip back. Once he departed from the warship, Vraul went to Orgrimmar in order to find some new armor, as most of his had been broken beyond repair. After some time of recuperating, he then set out towards the Wyvern's Tail in Orgrimmar, where he proceeded to try and drink his sorrows away for the next week.
Cleanup
After a week of mending his wounds, both physical and emotional, Vraul awoke one morning within the Ironwolf garrison to find that Ookthron Goresnarl had called for a meeting, assembling all orcs to the center. After a circle had been formed, Ookthron spoke of how the decisions made by the Warchief left many of her people in question as to her motives. He also told the others that if they must voice their concerns that they do it there and amidst their own clan. As time went on, one of the shaman of the clan spoke on how many of the Horde soldiers that fell were risen again in undeath and then abandoned to walk aimlessly within Tirisfal in eternal torment.
The others agreed and at nightfall, they ended up heading out to Ratchet, gathering gas masks within the town. Afterwards, they took a ship towards the Eastern Kingdoms, wherein they would eventually land upon the coasts of Silverpine Forest. Making their way north, the Ironwolves came slowly upon the border of Tirisfal, when Ookthron gave a small speech on how not to feel bad when slaying their former kin - that this would give them the final rest they deserve. As the others shouted for battle, the Ironwolves put on their gas masks and plunged through into the seared grounds that the Forsaken village of Brill once stood upon.
For many hours in the night, the Ironwolves scoured the region, knocking down any skeleton or spirit along the way, many of whom were also former Alliance soldiers. As dawn began to approach, they set a large pyre by the tattered Alliance tents and gave the soldiers a final speech, bidding them well in the afterlife. Once this had been accomplished, the clan set back towards Silverpine. They set sail back towards home, many of them solemnly staring at the fading continent they had left in the horizon.
Crossroads Defensive
As the weeks passed by, more and more Ironwolf members found themselves conscripted into Sylvanas' army that was making its way towards Zuldazar. Kulgar himself was suspected to have been included, as he had not been seen calling for a meeting in some time, which the clan found odd.
Later on, it was time for another Mak'Rogahn challenge, and it would be Vraul's first defense as champion. Unwilling to let go of his title, Vraul quite easily conquered many orcs, including Ogeth Stonefist, a great friend of Ookthron's and a powerful orc monk of the clan. After successfully completing the challenge for the second time, maintaining his title of champion for another month, Vraul felt that he should put in more initiative during his second term. He knew that he would have to put in great effort so as to avoid whispers that he would be resting on his laurels. He decided on heading out towards the Crossroads to see if he could manage to recruit a few fresh members into their ranks and bolster their defenses in case the Kaldorei decided on a return attack against them. After he bid a short farewell to his clanmates, he stormed out on his wolf, Stormrider, and made his way through the Horde blockade defending the Barrens against the Ashenvale border. He made his way in good time, but found himself in shock as to the state of the town he once guarded.
A terrible Kul Tiran siege attack had begun, and the number of troops was greater than he had seen, even in Durotar. Knowing full well that engaging them would be a death wish, Vraul immediately head out back towards the garrison to inform his clanmates of the imminent destruction that was intended. Once there, as he tried convincing them to help out, a few clanmates reminded him that they were short in number and that departing now would leave the garrison exposed. Angered by these words, Vraul arrogantly brought up his rank of champion and told them that those lesser in rank followed his orders. To this, he found scoffs, and the other orcs ran off to find Ookthron, who was himself superior to Vraul in rank. Vraul followed them, and as they found Ookthron, they tried to make their cases as to whether or not to depart. The yelling and finger-pointing seemed to go nowhere, until Vraul brought up that if the Crossroads were to fall, their southern connection to Orgrimmar would be stunted. He brought up that the battle going on in the Southern Barrens against the Alliance would surely falter, and then this would leave too great of an opening for the Alliance to storm Durotar with a massive force. Many orcish heads ducked down at this reminder, and Ookthron himself scratched his chin before ultimately agreeing that they should do what they can to help.
Ookthron spoke of how he was still drained and in rough shape from the last few fights he had endured, and so he granted Vraul permission to lead their clan in this defensive. Seeking to prove that he was worthy of his rank, Vraul darted his eyes around for a bit before agreeing with a smirk. Moments after packing up their supplies, the Ironwolf Clan head southward across the border. Once there, they began rallying a few of the local guards to try and aid them in the cause. Along the way, they found one of their clanmates, Krokha, who had for some reason lost both his armor and weapons. The Ironwolves tried to discourage him from joining, but it was no use - Krokha was hungry for vengeance, and he promised to deliver it regardless.
Once they had gathered a sizable force, the Ironwolves stormed into the Crossroads, finding themselves in a great battle against many particularly large humans adorned in heavy plate armor. There were also archers and Azerite-loaded siege weapons that threatened to collapse the entire village. Nonetheless, the Ironwolves pushed forward, rallying many more orcs out of hiding and into the fray, including a Laughing Skull assassin who named Xet who ended up being a tremendous asset towards the reclamation effort. As the hours went by, the orcs found themselves waning in numbers quickly, and many who refused to perish simply found their bodies locking up and falling to the ground in exhaustion. One of the peons named Morwark found himself slumped onto the ground until Krokha decided he had found what he was looking for - he picked up the peon with both hands and began flailing him around against the Kul Tirans in his rage.
The fight ended up pushing back towards the eastern front, and the fields were littered with both orcish and Kul Tiran bodies, with blood pooling out and seeping into the ground all around them. Eventually, as the sun began to fade over the horizon, the Ironwolves came upon Lord Johnathan Seymour, leader of this march towards the orcish settlement. The human lord merely scoffed at the Horde forces surrounding him and his pet monkey, Kursk, and he promised that even with his demise, the Horde would fall to the memory of Admiral Proudmoore and the force of the Ashvane Company. The Ironwolves limped their bodies towards Johnathan, and many find themselves knocked to the ground either by a flurry of attacks by Kursk or a hail of bullets from Johnathan's rifle. The remaining human, in his great health, was able to fend off many of the broken Ironwolves for a time, and his attacks became much more pronounced when Kursk was felled. The battle raged on until finally one of the Ironwolves' own warriors, Mugtha, charged in fury with what little energy she had left and cut the lord into pieces.
The clan gathered the bodies of both the injured and the deceased, and many of their own were burned at the pyres of the Crossroads in both a celebration and a time of remembrance. While the vast majority of Ironwolves decided they were too injured to leave for the night, Vraul returned to their garrison with a few others still in mobile shape, silently regretting that he had put so many of his brothers and sisters in harm's way.
Champion No More
After the battle of the Crossroads had come to a successful end, Vraul found himself dutied to make his way towards Arathi in order to aid in the Horde's war effort in the Eastern Kingdoms. Making his way by portal, Vraul spent the next week scouring for iron resources and chopping wood. By the end of the week, he joined together with many others in a successful takeover of Stromgarde, which pushed Danath Trollbane and his soldiers out for some time until they would retaliate and regain their kingdom weeks later.
Upon the successful takeover, Vraul managed to make his way back by portal towards Orgrimmar, where he rejoined his clanmates for many events that were coming up. For the next while, the Ironwolves managed to defend their Ashenvale garrison, and eventually make a trip to the main universe version of Nagrand. There, Vraul and the others honored both the elements at the Throne of Elements and the orcish spirits of old who still resided within Oshu'Gun. Around this time, Kulgar Ironwolf himself had silently stepped down from his position, the reasoning for this unknown to all but a select few in the upper Fang Council. Captain Ookthron was later decided as the new Chieftain, leaving his former title to Ogeth.
Weeks after returning from Nagrand, Vraul found himself met with yet another Mak'Rogahn challenge. Unlike previous times wherein he felt some nerves, Vraul proceeded to join in the festivity just before it began, slowly walking into camp and scoffing at the others, his ego grown to a great size. Once the orcs of the Ironwolf Clan made a circle around the garrison courtyard, Vraul and Ogeth began to trade words, both promising that the title of Champion would be theirs for the next month. After Ookthron declared for the Mak'Rogahn to begin, both Vraul and Ogeth stepped up as the first combatants of the competition. Given that Ogeth fought with his body alone, Vraul chuckled and dropped his weapons on the outside of the fighting ring. The two orcs then collided with a massive force, neither side giving an inch of ground. However, after a few minutes of battle, Ogeth managed to slip through Vraul's defenses, and bashed him in the gut before body-slamming the large warrior down onto the ground, conquering both the former champion and the first round of the tournament. Ogeth then later proceeded to take on and beat every other orc that he faced, making true on his word to become the new Champion alongside his title of Captain.
Mildly distraught at losing the position he yearned for for months, Vraul congratulated his new Champion before quietly departing from the garrison and heading elsewhere to meditate on what his next goal would be.
Ashes to Ashes
Some few days after the tournament had ended, the Ironwolf Clan members had become witness to a familiar face. Chieftain Kulgar had returned from his long-standing mission afar, and he was ready to re-assume control after Captain Ookthron had been manning the clan alongside his officer, Rulkah Smoghowl. While Ookthron had graciously stepped aside from his post of leadership, an internal conflict had risen within the ranks of the clan. Many of Ookthron's closest friends, including Vraul himself, had believed that Ookthron had been doing very well as the leader, especially since Kulgar had been absent from his post for much time.
All was well within the clan for a few weeks, until matters nearly came to a boiling point when the date of the Kosh'Harg had arrived. The clan had arrived in a timely matter, and Vraul had personally engaged in a challenge against the other clans held by the councilmaster. Conversation amongst the orcish people had gone well, until Kulgar unexpectedly departed from Nagrand with little notice, leaving some within the clan to attempt to awkwardly explain his actions.
The situation with the chieftain had only grown worse when one day, the Ironwolf Clan had been greeted by a squadron of grunts sent from Orgrimmar. These grunts had been stationed by their superior to oversee the defense of their base in case of a retaliation attack by the kaldorei. While many within the clan were amused with the grunts' apparent oafishness, Chieftain Kulgar had felt unsure of the true reasoning for their new station.
A few weeks later, one of the grunts had words with Kulgar about how he ruled his people. Kulgar quickly grew angry, and imprisoned this particular grunt within a corner of the camp in chains. Many amongst the clan quietly gasped in shock at this decision, and found Kulgar's show of power offensive due to the nature of returning so recently from such a long absence. His decision did not sit well with the other grunts, and soon enough this issue was brought up to Ookthron and Rulkah. The two agreed that the chieftain had been harsh with his indictment, and decided to challenge the chieftain personally. After many long conversations, Ookthron and Rulkah only grew tired of Kulgar's ideals, and decided that their time within the Ironwolf Clan would soon come to an end.
One night, while the others slept, Ookthron and the still-free grunts managed to break the imprisoned one out, and they quietly dashed out to Orgrimmar. While traversing out of the Wyvern's Tail, Vraul was surprised to see the orcs walk by, and nodded to them as he walked back to the camp. The next day, Kulgar demanded to know who had freed the prisoner from his shackles. After some time of murmering within the clan, Ookthron had revealed that he had done so, as he believed that the grunt's imprisonment was unjust.
Kulgar found himself aghast at his Captain's actions, and demanded to know of Ookthron's reasoning. After much arguing, Ookthron explained to the chieftain of his intentions to depart from the clan. Kulgar found himself in shock as he saw a few others follow Ookthron, including his third in command in Rulkah. After some time of contemplation, Kulgar found himself unable to contain his anger. Countless orcs, including Vraul, were immediately exiled from the clan. Kulgar believed that any orc with even remotely friendly ties with the former Captain were weak, and numerous orcs found themselves banished even if they had little to do with Ookthron's recent actions.
Ripsnarl Riders
For the next few months, Vraul and his fellow Ironwolf exiles decided to band together in a mission to stymie the Void's presence in northern Kalimdor as war between the Alliance and Horde ravaged the area. Finding themselves within Darkshore, the newly-formed Ripsnarl Riders, led by Captain Ookthron, had decided to survey the area by nightfall after the terrible battles there had come to a close. For miles, all they could do is look on in horror at the devestation the Fourth War had wrought upon the land. Coming up to a cave east of Bashal'Aran, the Riders found numerous plague barrels that had been stashed inside by the Forsaken. They decided to take these barrels with them in an attempt to expel the contained plague at a safe location. As the night went on and they went to depart from Darkshore, one of them suggested to set up camp before they found themselves tired and under ambush. The rest of the Riders agreed, and they all took rest within an abandoned furbolg cave close to the Ashenvale border.
Nothing Lasts
As the Riders slept, whispers began to echo in Ookthron's mind. They claimed that an unseen force has taken the winds. He found himself ripped away by the blackness as he thrashed against the vision, fighting it. As he opened his eyes, he found himself still in the cave, covered in cold sweat. Immediately, he threw himself out of bed and and tossed his worg pelt across his shoulders, clipping it onto his leather chest piece. Reaching to the side, he gripped the sturdy worg skull from the side of his bed and placed it over his head. Blinking his dim orange eyes, he looked around his cave. The flicking torches on the wall gave little lighting to his surroundings. Pushing himself from his bed, he gripped his serrated greatsword and hooked it onto his back. A hard grunt and snarl escapes his lips as he glanced around. He knew something wasn't right.
Walking through the Ripsnarl's hideout before dawn broke, he went to several of his members, kicking or pushing each one's bed, calling their names as he did. With groggy orcs at his back, he led them out of the cave. With little words spoken, he allowed his Riders to fully awaken before he informed them that they will be going on a scouting mission, revealing the details of his dream before they departed. Nervous and unknowing of what challenge lay before them, they slowly made their way to the tallest peak on Darkshore's main road where a mighty twister once raged. At the foot of the hill, they uncovered an old ally, Mogdim Drakeseer, who revealed that he was the one to send Ook the dream. Mogdim quickly urged the Riders to the peak, as the situation was dire.
As they made their way to the top, each member gasped in horror as they observed the many dozens of cultists whom surrounded a large dark and ominous portal, hands extended towards it and chanting. Behind several of the cultists were enslaved elementals of air, whose powers were being drained and focused into the portal. As each elemental dispersed from the ritual's force, a large N'raqi would saunter out of the portal with terrifying growl. Each member of the Riders then knew why they were dragged there, and immmediately they each heard a voice calling out from a distance, urging them to save the lands. Deciding quickly on what they must do, they soon found themselves in combat with the Twilight cultists and their horrible new ally. As the battle raged on, a projectile of void energy splattered against the mountain wall, sending the Riders back behind a rock before they were ripped apart. The Riders knew they had no choice but to re-engage the enemy before the region would become shrouded in darkness.
The battle raged on for nearly an hour as Void magic, steel, and lightning constantly smacked against each other, sending shockwaves across the mountain. Over time, Captain Ookthron found his mind to be sundered, leaving him open to numerous attacks that left his body and soul damaged. As he realized the scope of the situation, he grunted out a faint retreat with what remained of his energy. However, his voice fell on deaf ears, as his leather chest piece was soaked in void ashes and splots of his blood, and his people would not leave him to die. Once again, he heard a voice, but the blasts of void caused his senses to weaken and his mind quickly began to go numb. His brothers and sister, hearing his words, retorted that just as they aligned with him during their departure of Ironwolf, they would fight to the end here, even if it meant their own deaths. Ookthron was left chuckling between spits of blood from under his Worg Skull, and the Captain picked himself up from the ground. He quickly charged back into the fray with reinvigorated force, promising to see them all in Oshu'gun if they do not make it out alive. Missiles of void flew past his sights as he charged his enemies with his greatsword in hand. Ookthron quickly found himself covered in both his own blood and of the cultists as he sinked his blade into countless numbers of them. As he fought vigorously, he saw something launch into the corner of his vision, and time seemed to come to a near halt as he witnessed a massive projectile flying towards him.
The speed of the projectile was too great for him to deflect it, and all he could do was smile as he slowly closed his eyes, awaiting the impact. With a thud, the Captain was flung from his sword, which flew high into the air, impaling some poor soul that was nearby. As his back hit the ground once more, his worg skull was flung from his head and off to the side and soon he lay dead on the ground, a bloodied pulp of what once was an orc. As the others looked on in horror at the loss of their beloved captain, they suddenly felt a great anger within them, and once again they charged the cultists with all of their remaining might.
One by one, they all fell to the great power that lured them in, their bodies left mangled and broken on the ground. Moments later, one of the cultist leaders cackled and demanded that their souls be siphoned and brought to Nya'lotha. However, as they began to do so, a large group of Alliance soldiers stomped onto the scene, having overheard the fight while walking the nearby pathway. Within a few hours, the soldiers overtook the cultists and their N'raqi monster, and saved the elementals by tearing down the newly-built structures the Twilight foes had built.
Vraul's mangled body was eventually brought to the Barrens, buried next to his Ripsnarl brethren within the shadow of the Crossroads. It is assumed his spirit has gone on to Oshu'gun in the afterlife.
Shadowlands
Though his soul was narrowly saved from being claimed by the Void, a dark fate would befall it nonetheless. At the time that Vraul perished, the machine of death had been broken by Sylvanas Windrunner. Therefore, Vraul's soul was cast out into the depths of The Maw to suffer for all eternity. It is unknown if he has ever been freed from this torment.
Trivia
Due to terrible injuries received to his shoulders while liberating imprisoned brethren in Durnholde Keep, Vraul prefers to use leather padding for protection. The weight of chain and plate mail prove to cause him too much discomfort to wear for long, though he will disregard the pain when necessary for a great battle. He also wears an eyepatch over his right eye due to an injury he suffered in Hillsbrad, which he usually hides underneath his father's wolf-mask.
Some time after his old wolf fell in battle to the Legion, Vraul garnered the companionship of another and named him Stormrider in honor of his fallen friend, Aknug Stormrider.
Vraul does not handle teleportation well. At best, he can be found vomiting soon after the travel. At worst, his mind and sense are broken for a good while until he has gotten proper rest.
Many images of Vraul on this page showing his bare arms have no tattoos, however after the Thunderfist era, Vraul does indeed have permanent tattoo'd sleeves. He was also born with blue eyes which stayed blue aside from the one that was blinded when he was still a young fighter.
Gallery
Vraul Jawrip of the Thunderfist Warband
Holding a bloodied banner of the Alliance.
Standing upon the Thunderfist arena.
Vraul a few months before his death.
One for the Horde, one for the Frostwolf.
Morwark, Vraul, and Ookthron in Stormsong Valley.
Artwork by DeadMaul/DSRabbit.
Vraul Jawrip of the Horde.
Vraul near the Crossroads. (Artwork by mya.nyan)
Vraul celebrating a victory in Orgrimmar. (Artwork by Daniel Fabro)
.jpg)
