Kuar Grimtotem - A fateful day

He waited a long time for this day. It had been exactly nine years and nine days. The Tauren male stood within the village circle staring into the blazing fire in it’s midst. Clad in only ragged trousers, his massive chest and brawny arms were bare. Sweat glistened on his ebony leathery skin. For all one could tell the young Tauren was oblivious to the raging heat in front of him.

Hidden in the shades of the elder’s tent the village crone and her visitor watched the youngling. “The debt is settled. I have done what you asked for. For nine great cycles the tribe has given him shelter and taught him the ways of the Sun.” The cloaked figure that was her visitor nodded briefly, merrily ignoring the crone’s disapproving gaze. The crone took a deep breath. Her visitor’s fel cloak did nothing to hide the stench of corruption nor did it veil the perverse power of the dead one.

The crone turned to the young Tauren again and continued, “He took the path of the druids.. and the animal spirits approved.” Trying her best to ignore the quiet snickering of her visitor and the mumbled “which no doubt suprised you”, she went on “The Cenarion Circle accepted him as an initiate. He has grown strong and served well so far.”

Kuar unconsciously took a step back as the wind blew the heat directly towards him. He was angry. Dusk approached and he wanted to be out hunting. But instead he waited for the elder mother to call him. This day would change his life, he well knew that, but what in the name of the thrice-cursed hyena was taking so long.

The crone sat for a while in the twilight of the tent, a blanket on her lap. She had agreed to her visitor’s final request, but silently she cursed the day the elders granted the dead one an audience. ‘I will let him loose. His heart hasn’t changed. He has grown massive and strong, but the youngster of nine cycles past remains. Still untempered.’ After a long while she bade the wind to carry her voice and called for Kuar to join her.

“At last!”, Kuar strode forcefully over to the elder’s tent. He ducked slightly as he entered the tent although there was plenty of space. “Sit with me, Kuar.”, the elder mother told the young Tauren with a calm voice. “The one who brought you was here and..” - Kuar interrupted her with a roar, “Where? Where is the broken man?”.

As he met her cold, harsh gaze, Kuar knew he had overstepped his bounds. Nobody ever interrupts the elder mother, especially not in the elder’s tent. ‘Respect your elders.’ He flinched and tried to give a meek impression. The crone’s unyielding wrath told Kuar he failed, so he settled for silent, but defiant.

“You are to seek out the Grim Orphanage. From now on until one year and one day has passed, think of them as your tribe. Respect their elders and embrace the Orphans as your brothers and sisters.” The crone saw the unspoken question in Kuar’s dark eyes. “Once the cycle has passed your blood debt is settled. You will be free to go where ever you like or to stay with the friends you may find.”

Kuar nodded, too suprised to find any words. This was not how he imagened this day would change his life. All his dreams and wishes shattered by the broken man - again. A hint of a smile crept into the wrinkled face of the elder tauren-female, “The Bloodhoof tribe shall remain your home - if it is your wish to return after one cycle.”

Later that night, Kuar was out in the plains of Mulgore. The setting sun painted the mountains in somber red as the huge shade of a Tauren trotted through the darkened grassy green sea. Who are those Orphans?

Thus began the story of Kuar in the Orphanage. That one cycle and more has passed. It is time to move on.