Stormwind. Yet another day that begun with the rising of the sun. It seemed like any other, but this time a storyteller had announced his arrival in the Old Town. The children were gathered around the old robed man with clasped hands and sparkling eyes when he sat down on a crate, pulling out his hip-flask and took a deep chug of the bitter drink. "Then you feel like a man again" he muttered as a pained cough escaped his throat. The children looked at him with their bright smiles and pleaded him for a story. They all fell silent once he started telling a story, and they all sat close to him with happy faces as they were lost in his tale. And so it started:
From the windswept hills of Mulgore, to the dusty and harsh recesses of the Badlands, a clan known as the Bloodskull lived, and their members lived isolated in small groups, often staying with their families. Three generations of orcs generally shared the same tent or cave that they called home.
The story that I will tell starts in the Badlands, in a tent, hidden in the sandstorms.
There lived a small family. A father, a mother, and an unborn child. Held firmly to their shamanistic ways and bound by honor and pride, their child was to be delivered without brews or magic – a child brought to them by the Spirit's deliverance. During a thunderstorm, a boy was born, strong in both body and soul. The parents thought him to be blessed by the Spirits when the mother laid her head back to rest while the father took care of their son.
A few years passed, and the father – named Asgok – rarely spent more than a few days at home before, once again, head out to battle against the Alliance, Scourge and Burning Legion whom at many fronts assailed them. Driven by his strong sense of honor, his teachings to the boy was stern and very blunt. It wasn't rare for him to actually, and literally, trying to beat some sense into the lad. The boy – named Rathgol – was however carefully raised under his mother's watchful eyes. Kari, as was her name, taught him the ways of the shaman, and his place in the clan. On Rathgol's tenth birthday, he cast his very first lightning bolt at a coyote that was looking for food in the family's stash of supplies. Asgok was very proud over his son when he returned and heard the news. He even embraced the boy and kissed his wife. Given orc tradition, Rathgol received the title of 'Thundercaller' at the next clan meeting as it was his first deed worthy of recognition.
Twenty years passed, and Rathgol was now in his thirties. His mother had fallen ill, and lay in bed most of her woken hours. He prayed to the Spirits for aid as he took care of the feverish Kari. A week passed and her condition was slowly improving. Rathgol kept handling the things around their home, while he kept a constant eye on his mother.
Another week had passed when Asgok returned home from the front lines. Kari was now free from her illness and greeted her husband with a loving embrace. Asgok however barely returned it before bringing Rathgol aside for a long and serious conversation. Although he would seem cold to those who didn't know him, he truly loved his family above all else. This time around, he stayed at home for almost a year before leaving them for "glorious battle for blood and honor". During his time of absence, Rathgol kept practicing the elemental aspect of the shaman. He learned the hard way that you shouldn't demandthe power from the Spirits, but ask for it. His punishment is yet unknown, as he never spoke of it. Although Kari's persistent inquiries, he wouldn't ever speak of it.
A decade passed, and his father has yet to return. Rathgol was now in his young forties, and Kari felt it to be time for him to leave them. To use her words, it was in order for him to "find or forge his own destiny and earn a place in the Halls of Legends". Rathgol wasn't too happy about having to leave the only home he had ever known, however, but Kari was stubborn and eventually persuaded him to leave. Sharing a loving embrace and saying farewell, the 'Thundercaller' went out into the world to see the world through his own eyes instead of the tales told around the campfire. This would be something entirely new to him, but confidence shone in him as he took his first steps into the world as a shaman of the Bloodskull clan.