Grazmot was born in the bloody land that was Hellfire Peninsula. Draenor had not been always that way, but after the orc's sealed the Shadow Pack and slaughtered the Draenei, the land had been ravaged and drained by the Warlock's dark magic and the bloodthirsty Horde's needs.

When Grazmot was old enough to chew bits of meat his mother could rarely find, she decided to sell her son to buy herself a better life. A grizzled warlock decided to do so, giving her some meat and furs in trade for the pup.

Despite being a slave of a practitioner of the dark arts, Grazmot was quite fortunate. His master fed him well, and the young orc was able to ease his thirst with fine water. As soon as Grazmot was able to walk and carry a weapon at the same time, an ursine orc whose red hair was stroked with gray began to visit Grazmot and train him in the arts of combat a few hours per day. Grazmot passed the rest of the time with his master, learning about the history of the orcs before they embraced the shadowy ways. The tales always made the warlock's eyes become watery, but Grazmot never questioned why and simply absorbed the informations like a sponge.

Then it all changed. When Grazmot had only completed a decade of existence, the Dark Portal was opened and the Horde rushed to invade the new fertile lands beyond. Grazmot's master was urged to follow the first wave, and thus he brought his slave with him to a new land.

For the younger orc, it was a shock. Accustomed to a dusty land, with ugly vegetation here and there and next to no water, he was stunned to see the new, swampy land. There were plenty of green plants, water poured from everywhere and there were even healthy animals, so many of them!

However, there was no time to admire the landscape. Knowing the Horde would hurry to find battle and exhaust the resources on the way, the warlock went against the wave and he and his slave settled by the sea, in the East, where they rarely saw any or wandering. Most of the orcs marched to the North or West, attacking a race of pink skinned humanoids who called themselves humans.

Finally at peace and with plenty of food and water, the master freed his slave, leaving one night without Grazmot noticing. The young orc was now liberated from his master who, despite all the evil about his craft, wanted him to live well, all because he was a youngster who could embrace the orcish heritage, which the warlock missed so much.

With his brute strength and cunning, Grazmot survived with only the necessary, hunting beasts, drinking the swamp's water and munching some herbs when sick.

Rarely did Grazmot find any orc, especially after the fall of the human capital, Stormwind. Still, he managed to converse occasionally with one or two orcs, and the major news managed to reach his ears. Five years after the fall of Stormwind, the orcs set sail to the North, searching for more humans to slay and lands to conquer.

Grazmot stayed, however. Glory and honour seemed not to be the main reason behind the genocide caused by the orcs, not when compared to the tales Grazmot's old master used to share. No, he would stay and wait. Surely the orcs of the bloodthirsty, corrupted Horde would find reason, even if it took them a thousand years.

Not too long after the departure of most of his people, Grazmot noticed that orcs and humans alike began to wander more and more often on the swamps he now called home. He got to know that the orcs had been defeated and that they were being pulled back to the Dark Portal. Grazmot still did nothing to help his murderous peers, and, instead, he hid well, not bothering at all to know that he and a few scattered clans were stuck in Azeroth. At last there would be some peace in the world, and maybe the orcs would embrace their old ways once more.

Aware that the humans now occasionally patrolled the swamps and killed any orc at first sight, Grazmot simply kept on hiding in the most remote corner of the swamps and for years he knew nothing concerning what was going on Azeroth.

About ten years after his self-imposed exile, Grazmot was astonished to see another orc wandering on his domains. However, the stranger was not one who babbled of the taste of blood and the betrayal of the warlocks, but one who made lightning kneel before him. Grazmot recognized him as a shaman from his old master's tales. He saw that as a good omen and left the relative safety of his hideout, decided to communicate with the outsider.

Grazmot's brain almost exploded with so much information to absorb and analyze. The shaman told him that, a few years ago, the orcs had been ultimately defeated by the humans and the remnants in Azeroth were being kept as prisoners. Apparently, the first orc of the recent wave of shamans was now leading a new Horde. That Warchief had freed the orcs from the camps where they were held prisoners and now they were rebuilding the Horde, but not the bloodthirsty Horde Grazmot had known. Instead, the orcs now focused on recovering the old traditions, from years past when they were spiritual beings who believe in shamanism and honour.

Finally, the shaman said he had been sent to scout the land, looking for hermits like Grazmot, and offered the self-exiled orc shelter among the new Horde. Grazmot hesitated at first, but eventually accepted, mesmerized to know that his prayers had been heard.

Grazmot had a hard time blending in with the rest of civilization after so many years of solitude, but eventually he got used to it. He passed most of that period honing his battle skills and defending the weaker ors from the attacks from humans and other threats.

After a few months the orcs were on the move yet again. They were setting sail to a land called Kalimdor. It was said that it was there the Horde could find and fulfil its destiny. Grazmot eagerly joined and, although the voyage was no easy one, he was grateful to be part of it.

When they arrived Grazmot was a bit disappointed to see that Kalimdor was all but a desert. Still, it had more life and water than Draenor, and perhaps other bits of Kalimdor were more verdant and lush.

As the orcs advanced they found the Tauren, half-humanoid, half-bovine beings. The Tauren spoke of the fabled Stonetalon Peak, where the Horde could find the destiny they sought after. As such, they moved in the Peak's direction and, along the way, they made several outposts. Grazmot's party was left behind to defend one that would today be known as The Crossroads.

The orcs at the outpost lived in relative peace, only having to do occasional patrols to kill quillboars, harpies and centaurs molesting their hunters. Only several months after did they hear about the battle against the Burning Legion and, like what happened to all the outposts at Kalimdor, aid was requested from the frontline.

Grazmot and his companions rode swiftly, but when they arrived the battle was already over. However, there were still many things to do, as the genocide left many orcs, humans and night elves wounded and even more of them were dead. Pyres burned for days in an attempt to stop possible diseases from spreading from the corpses. The wounded were tended by healers and warriors alike.

Weeks after those events the orcs were once again on a new land, the ragged Durotar, but this time they were there to stay. While Orgrimmar was being built, Grazmot had the opportunity to participate in the Om'riggor, the orcs' rite of passage to adulthood, despite his age. From the trials he earned the surname Windseeker for his efforts against a particularly windy day.

Subsequent to his showdown at Om'riggor, Grazmot was invited to train as a shaman. Some saw his success against the hurricane and thought of it as an omen of the elements. From that day on Grazmot learned the way of the shaman: first by doing pilgrimage with nothing but the necessary, and still helping those on the way; then by carving totems and worshiping the elements; finally, by meditating for a day without eating or drinking to then ask the elements for their future aid, which they conceded. With all the rites complete, Grazmot was accepted as a shaman, and to this day he still wears the mantle with pride.

Recently, Grazmot decided to leave the safety of Orgrimmar and venture through the scarred world of Azeroth, to learn more about the elements, his and other people and himself.