Kuurzon

Prologue

I am named Kuurzon, this is a name for one born under the full moon. I learned this today. It is the twenty-third year of my life, it has not always been the comfortable life as I have now.

My life won't compare to the typical Orc's life as I was raised by a very special lady, my mother.

And now you are thinking, 'okay, so?'

My mother is human.

No, don't shake your head with the eye roll, now my mother adopted me - I am not half human. My skin is as thick as any Orc's.

To be honest, I think it would be a dangerous …. thing, for a human to be with an orc.

Besides it is not healthy to think of such things. Hahaha!

You are not laughing? Shame.

Okay, here, just listen to my story…

For reasons unknown, it was told to me that my family was traveling with a group of others, two trolls, a tauren and a goblin. Yes, I know it sounds like a start of some joke, you know "two trolls, a tauren and goblin walk into a bar…"

Sadly this is no joke. It had seemed the group has lost it's path and found itself in a marsh, one that I know as Dustwallow. This place is a dense, dark marsh swamp. Many of the creatures there are not friendly, and more dangerous are not the crocolisks but the humans who have taken residence. My parents were unfamiliar to the place, the reasons why they had travelled through here were unknown. Mother says it seemed as if the goblin was the driver of the noisy motorized carriage, and knowing these wretched little creatures, he may have been thinking it was a short cut to where ever they may be going.

Now this is where you cue the fade in to the story.

*fade in*

"Can't this contraption move any faster?" A middle aged male Orc complained.

Marok was tired, sitting in a small motorized carriage as it rattled slowly through a 'short cut' on rough road. The driver was goblin, and now as they learned too late, a foolish one. This short cut brought Marok's family into a dangerous place!

Marok glanced as his mate and the bundle in her arms, wrapped warmly in a fur lined blanket, sleeping sound, oblivious to the coming dangers. "Our little one sleeps well."

"Kuurzon has the deep sleep of his father, nothing wakes him." Arana smiled, small bright white tusks peeked from under her lower lip, one at each corner of her mouth. "He will need to feed soon, when we leave these swamps behind."

"And soon I hope. I do not like this place…Arana, I must apologize, I did not chose wise for our ride to my brother's retreat. Can you forgive me?"

It happened all too fast.

There was a whizzing sound and the goblin driver was no more. His body fell from his perch and onto the ground, the arrow through his chest.

"We're under attack! Take up any weapons you find!" He commanded the three others to do, then he had no time to say goodbye he directed his mate to go, "Arana, run with Kuurzon, keep our son safe!"

The troll brothers and one tauren female hopped off the vehicle and engaged the enemy but there were too many. Marok hopped off as Arana leapt off the back, both were cut down simultaneously by whizzing arrows. The trolls tried their best, but were also laid to rest quickly. The Tauren female put up a battle, but she too was murdered.

Moments later, a group of human bandits were looting the cart, taking the most valuable things and soon they left with bags full of food and personal belongings of the travellers.

Over a small hill there was a young woman, no more than thirty gathering certain plants for potions until she heard a commotion that stopped as quickly as it had started. Her curiosity got the better of her so she bound her long black hair, set her things down except her old hickory bow and carefully approached the massacre, an arrow ready to defend herself if needed.

She came upon the cart, things thrown to the side and bodies laid about. It was a sad sight, Kristen decided she should report it to the closest Alliance commander, but she thought second. What if they did it?

To her, this so called Alliance was her worst nightmare. They brought a fight towards her mushroom farm in the marsh and killed her family. Her one daughter and husband. One arrow each. Kristen had lived alone since.

As she checked for any sign of life from the trolls, then to the tauren, a small sound caught her attention. She looked towards the back of the cart and saw there was another victim, that upon inspection was also a woman, but an orc. Nearby laid a male, she assumed was this one's husband.

Kristen put her hand on the orc woman's arm to find a pulse, but a movement from under her startled her. The way the orc woman was laying it seemed she protected something or a someone.

And Kristen attempted to pry the small covered bundle from under her the orc's arms held fast.

Maybe she is still alive!

"Please…" The orc's voice was nearly a whisper, speaking is simple human words. "Please…save, I am dying."

"Let go, it's okay. What is it you have?" Kris again reached down, to pick up the small bundle from the orc woman and found inside a very tiny pair of eyes looking back to her. "Your…baby…" Kristen was stunned, what was she to do with this child?

"Please save him…" Arana's voice became weaker by the minutes, she struggled to opened an eye to see the savior of her baby. "Our..son, K…Kuurzon…please take, he is just born…save him." She took a breath and tried to summon all she had left to speak, "My son…let me…see…"

Kristen was nearly in tears as she held him down close to his mother, who only lingered for a few moments before slipping away.

Kristen suddenly sad back on her backside stunned as what had just happened. The little child, a newborn orc, struggled to poke a little fat arm out, reaching for the strange face he looked up at.

"Oh …my…what," she was at a loss for words. She could take him….or she could simply take the boy to Orgrimmar and leave him. But something deep within trembled, stirring up old feelings of motherhood from a only a few years back. His mother said to save him, keep him safe. What could she do…a helpless little child. The fact that his skin was a pale green, the fuzz on his head jet black, a short little button nose but the eyes. They moved, tracking her own eyes, he watched her. Kristen had no idea orc babies were this alert at the newborn age.

She paused, gazing back into his little brown eyes, the connection struck. There was no thoughts of giving him up, the little one named Kuurzon, was now her adopted son.

More to come…..