"Young Maulbane, I have a very important task for you.
"Yes, Chief Hawkwind?"
"I need you to go past the hill and get some water from the well."
Maulbane as a child had thought that was an unimportant task, and begged the Chieftan to allow him to go hunting Plainstriders (without taking too long to describe, they looked kind of like emus) but now as he looked back on that time he understood the values he learned from that rather ordinary test. Respect for one's elders is an important virtue, and he understood fully what it meant now, lying under the stars with only his (rather large) backpack to sleep on. As he pondered on his childhood as a young Tauren, his companion Goretusk was sticking his snout into a sack (which had a rather delicious looking plainstrider leg inside it).
Maulbane caught this in the corner of his eye and chuckled, being brought back to reality at least for now. He scooped up Goretusk (No easy feat, considering he had been feeding the already heavily built boar with apple pies, plainstrider legs and other not-too-healthy treats) and placed him next to him, still smiling.
He then turned his mind to the task at hand - hunting. He had been asked by the guard captain down at Grom'Gol outpost to hunt an extremely elusive cat (a panther, to be truthful) that had been doing some hunting of its own, chowing down on some of the guards at Grom'Gol that were too tired to notice it sneaking up - a rather macabre way of keeping everyone nice and alert from then on. So when Maulbane arrived at the outpost, the people there asked him to find this animal and end its spree.
As he drifted back into reality, he saw Goretusk putting his big snout into the sack again, so he got up and tied the sack closed. Since he was up, he decided to look for any clues of its whereabouts. He scouted around the camp site, looking for obvious clues such as tracks and the like, and being the great companion he is, Goretusk followed suit, sniffing around the tree trunks and ground in the jungle. Maulbane found nothing apart from the old tracks he had spotted yesterday, which after he followed for something like half an hour, only managed to lead to him a Crocilisk's den, complete with furious, snapping Crocolisks. Crocilisks look exactly like crocodiles, but with an extra set of legs. They're also much more aggressive. He managed to get out of that situation with some effort from both him and Goretusk, luckily.
He sighed and ran one of his huge three fingers through his matted mane which ran across his back (originally his personal pride as he neared adulthood, weeks in the Stranglethorn jungle had solved that with ease). Coming across a knot, he decided to continue searching and to stop being so vain. As he thought that (Which he often does whenever he can, and since he is in a barely populated jungle, he can do it a lot, at least until he leaves), Goretusk let out a decently high-pitched squeal, and Maulbane ran over immediately, being an expert on his little friend's vocabulary. Goretusk was far from the camp by now, so he took a while to reach him, but when he did, he noticed what Goretusk had seen.
It was a large deadly looking fang, obviously a panther's. And since he had seen no other panthers anywhere near the camp, nor a den of them anywhere near his camp either, he came to the conclusion that this was a fang from the very panther he was hunting, and from that knew he was on its trail. But even though this was a rather fortunate find, it didn't tell him where it was, what direction it was heading in when it lost the fang or any other similar golder nuggets of information. But now he knew that his prey was in this area, and he was content with that, being a very patient hunter (a common trait for them).
He sniffed the air, more for the atmosphere than it actually serving any purpose, then began to work. He marked the spot he was in in his mind, and began to spiral outwards, rationalizing that if the beast is close to here, he will find it eventually. Goretusk was hot on Maulbane's heels, tagging along for the long hunt ahead. The sight would amaze and dazzle any ordinary city person, or anyone who lived in an area such as the Barrens or Tirisfal Glades (which are unbelievably dull in comparison), and if Maulbane was here as a child he would have been sucked in by the sights, smells and sounds of the amazing place. But he had seen many equally beautiful sights, and even more breathtaking ones, and so he plodded on, foot after foot, or in his case, being a Tauren, hoof after hoof. You had to admire a hunter's determination, which was evident in the way Maulbane never faltered from the long stretch of wild jungle ahead of him, eyes always ahead of him or to his side, searching for any sign of the rogue big cat.
Another piece of proof of his devotion to the work was the way that he, even though being over six feet in size, being clumsily wide and having a full suit of chain mail and leather armour on his person, plus his weapons (one gigantic Axe about as tall as him, and a large gun, both with their own names). Not to mention the armour was further padded with extra leather armour pieces. Trying to run - Even walk too fast - in all that would surely wake up everything living and dead in this place. So he had to walk excruciatingly slow, hunched to make himself a smaller target for any brave animals that may be looking for their next meal, because even though he could probably defeat any gorillas, tigers or Crocolisks here, there are always at least a dozen more animals within half a kilometre in this place. He slowly lost count of the trees he had passed after he passed the number one hundred and twenty-five. "I am now about halfway through his hunt" he thought as he stifled a yawn, but didn't stop for any reason. Goretusk, just as adamant as his friend, didn't make a sound, and also glancing around for any signs of a big panther with only one fang.
It took a while, but finally they found a suspicious trail of vines that looked like they had been walked or ran through by something with four legs, and like he noted before, there are no other panthers are and also barely any other four-legged animals anywhere close, so he began the final stage of the hunt, the most crucial part which requires the most stealth and skill. He slowed down even more, keeping his eye on the unearthed trail of vines. Slowly he walked along, muffling his sound with the expertise of a rogue. There was an obvious trail of blood, alongside the vine trail and from that Maulbane had no doubt that the panther was extremely close, and pulled his gun out, ready to aim. He looked to the left, then the right, because the trail had just become impossible to follow. It had just faltered right in front of him, which means the panther had to be right there... He couldn't see anything though, and it seemed neither could Goretusk from his puzzled look, quietly snuffling around the spot the trail had stopped. Maulbane looked a little bit up, and his heart skipped a beat - The panther was right above him -
In a single second, he began to roll out of the way and aimed his gun for a precise shot at the big cat's head, but the cat had been waiting for him, and had the element of surprise. It Pounced with a bestial roar right onto the surprised Tauren and he then saw its array of weaponry up close. Rows of sharp teeth and one massive fang remaining, and viciously serrated claws were drawn dangerously close to Maulbane's throat. All this in the space of a few seconds, Maulbane was caught surprised, but it took a fraction of a second for his hunter instincts to come forth, gripping the panther's stomach and head and throwing it away like a toy, truly showing the power of Tauren muscles. By now Goretusk, who had stopped earlier to examine the trail, was charging head-first into the momentarily stunned panther, his natural armoury fully shown for the first time for about a week. Four rather hideous tusks coming out his jaw, which itself had a row of large omnivorous teeth slightly protruding outwards. The boar let out a bellowing squeal, not like the ones before, this one was more like a roar. He sped up, faster and faster, closing the distance between himself and the panther, which was already getting up. Meanwhile, Maulbane wasn't wasting any time either, doing a combat roll, pulling out his gun, and firing a shot into the panther's leg. The hunter was used to the resounding crack of the weapon, but the panther, having lived in a fairly remote jungle for its entire life, did not. First it was startled by the shot, Then the steel ball hit its leg, knocking it down completely and (by what he heard) snapping bone. Maulbane reloaded his gun with the skill of someone who had done it over a thousand times (which he had), and fired a second shot at the panther's head. It missed barely, penetrating into the side of its body, but shattering a rib in the process. Goretusk had finally cleared the distance, and a few meters away from the panther, sped up, jumped, and collided.
The way I have been narrating this story, you may think he was a simple household pet or a cute little piggy, but he is a weapon in a sense. In any case, Goretusk knew the extent of his own power, and so did Maulbane. In the present, the boar landed head first, tusks ripping into the now defeated beast. With the efficiency of his owner (neither Maulbane or Goretusk enjoy the term, but it is easier to call it that, even though it is not strictly true) he checked if the animal was dead, which it wasn't, and signalled. Maulbane aimed the large gun directly at the dying animal's head, placed the shot inside the barrel, and pulled the trigger. Maulbane walked grimly over to the now dead adversary and examined it, looking for something so he could prove his kill. He then remembered the fang, and decided to return to Grom'Gol in the morning to collect his reward and hopefully catch the early zeppelin back to his homeland, Kalimdor.
It was sunset as they walked back to their camp, Maulbane's mind on the day's events. He didn't always believe in material rewards for kills (though in such a world they were important), he liked to glean experience from everything he did, believe it made him not only a better hunter, but better in the eyes of the Earthmother, creator of all things and the Taurens' sole deity. Another thing he staunchly believed in was that hunters were not superior to the animals they hunt. In other words, he was probably what most other hunters call an 'Old ways' hunter. Almost all Tauren hunters had the same ideals, though, it being part of their culture. He drifted back to reality as he saw the camp site was just on the horizon, and was relieved to be able to lie down and go to sleep. The camp was just a large tent surrounded by many different sized bags, situated in a clearing. He was greeted by a grunt from his pack kodo Gladestomp, but went straight to his "bed" and put his head down, and fell into an uneasy sleep, ailed by many questions, even if you wouldn't consider them important …