"Lok'tar my boy!" "On this day you become a proud warrior of the Horde!"
"But dad, I don't wanna…"
"Haha! I never said you had a choice did I?"
"C'mon dad, I don't wanna fight. I just wanna hang out with Chi'jin and Cho'jin and…"
"Ok. Stop your whining right now. If I hear another weak-ass moan outta you, I'm gonna have to smack you upside the head with this here blunt mace."
So that's how Krom'gar left home. Not exactly the type of beginning that proceeds all the legends of the great heroes like Grom, and Vol'jin, and Cairne, or Kilroth, his child-hood rival who once single-handedly slew a rabid bunny. Kilroth was good looking and exceptionally muscular, while Krom'gar was decidedly average looking. Nonetheless, Krom'gar found himself outside the Valley of Trials by the end of the day.
"Hey Grunk."
"Yeah Brunk?"
"Check it out, another newbie walking up the road."
"What a moron. Why start now when Cataclysm hits soon and he can have a revamped leveling experience complete with brand new talent trees and what not?"
"Yeah… What?"
"Nothing."
Krom'gar didn't notice the two guards talking about him, and wouldn't have cared much anyway. His jaw hurt too much from being smacked with a blunt mace, and his eyes were fixed on the road as he slowly trudged towards the Valley of Trials. Two minutes later his eyes were fixed on what was ahead of him. He had just learned tripping over a cactus is extremely painful.
The wall of trials loomed overhead, casting a shadow over Krom'gar and shading him from the scorching heat emanating from the sun. He never had understood why the heck anyone would want to build a nation in the dessert. It seemed like a recipe for stupidity in his opinion. Speaking of stupidity…
"Hey newbie," said Brunk, "Uh, nice gearscore."
Grunk rolled his eyes, "Don't mind him newbie. He loves taunting people who get to be heroes since he's stuck being a guard."
"You're stuck being a guard to," Brunk muttered sullenly.
"Yeah, but I never applied to be a hero," Grunk stated, "Anyway newbie, just keep following the road till you arrive at the den. Report to Sergeant Skullcrusher."
"Whatever," Krom'gar muttered as he trudged down the road. As he walked away he could still hear the two guards arguing.
"You know they only denied my hero application because I missed three points on the Strength to Attack Power conversion chart!"
"Yeah, and you thought the five races of the Horde were Orcs, Trolls, Tauren, Zombiemen, and Edward Cullen."
"That one was a trick question! And I…"
Krom'gar was unable to hear the voices by the time he was halfway down the road to the den. While he despaired at being forced into being a hero of the Horde, he supposed tit was a good thing he wasn't stuck guarding a gate in the middle of the dessert instead. Another five minutes and he was outside the den. Truly it was an aptly named place, containing a couple of shoddy lean-tos and an intricate cave system used by no one at all. Yep. This was Horde ingenuity at its finest. Smelled like Horde too.
"Eh mon. What up?" came a voice from behind Krom'gar. Krom'gar turned himself around and found himself face to face with one of the wildest trolls he had ever seen. He was easily eight feet tall, with a face painted with a fierce shade of crimson, with dark blue painted crescents traveling up one side of his face, in addition to what appeared to be a spiky Mohawk.
"Da name be Malladen, an I be a new recruit like joo," the troll stated, extending a hand to shake Krom'gar's.
Krom'gar decided he could do better for friends on day one of Hero life, but also knew that beggars couldn't be choosers (since he generally was picked second to last for "kick the human skull" ball), so he extended his hand in return and said, "Krom'gar, son of Loxtan, son of…. Ah well he was my grandpa whoever he was."
Malladen nodded solemnly, "It be a pleasure Krom'gar."
"You can call me Krom for short. Krom'gar is formal, used for dinner parties and stuff…"
"Ah, sure ting mon."
"So, do you know where to look for Sergeant Skullcrusher?"
"Yeah, e be ova der mon." Malladen pointed towards what appeared to be a wrestling circle. There was a heavy crowd gathered around it. Krom'gar forced his way through the crowd and bore witness to the most awe inspiring event of his life. A massive orc, with shoulders twice the width of his, and with muscles that put a body builder to shame, was wrestling an ogre and winning, no problem. The orc in fact, had the ogre just about hog tied. The ogre was struggling mightily, but the orc simply completed tying the knot on the ogre's bonds with a quick flourish.
"That Is how it's done!" roared the orc.
"Skullcrusher! Skullcrusher!" cheered the crowd.
"All right you lazy dogs!" roared Skullcrusher, "Back to work!"
The crowd filtered away rapidly, the various orcs and trolls going back to their duties. Krom'gar approached Skullcrusher with no small amount of trepidation; this orc was easily two feet taller than him.
"Er, Sergeant Skullcrusher? Krom'gar reporting for duty. For the Horde and stuff."
Skullcrusher turned around and Krom'gar got a good look at him, or rather, her.
"By Thrall's unshaven chin!" exclaimed Krom'gar, "You're a girl!"
Skullcrusher's face quickly transitioned from the normalcy of green, to red-green, to purple-green, to seething rage-green.
"AND WHAT," roared Skullcrusher, "DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ME BEING YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER? WELL PUNK? SPEAK UP!"
Krom'gar of course could not speak up because he had been hoisted into the air and was steadily choking to death owing to Skullcrusher crushing his windpipe.
"Eh Sergeant, e wasn't sayen nothing bad about joo, just exclaimen surprise," Malladen interjected from behind Krom'gar.
Skullcrusher's angry scowl slowly melted into a angry frown, and then into an angry glare. With a huff, the sergeant set Krom'gar back on the ground. Krom'gar coughed and leaned on his knees, trying to recover his breath. He though his neck might have shrunk in diameter.
Skullcrusher continued to glare at Krom'gar, but seemed to have put the incident behind her.
"Krom'gar, eh. I heard about you. Apparently you have no balls." Skullcrusher said nonchalantly.
Krom'gar wasn't about to argue with Skullcrusher since he figured she could kill him by blinking at him. He was used to having his pride stabbed, shot, beaten, and horribly mutilated, so the insult didn't overly faze him.
Skullcrusher seemed put-out when he didn't rise to the bait.
"Well no matter. My job is to make sure you grow a pair before your stint here is over. Oh and don't worry," Skullcrusher grinned delightedly, "We'll make sure you have lots of intensive training. We're going to make you boys strong."
"Krom'gar, bunk four. Troll, I'll handle your paperwork, and then you can settle in bunk one." Malladen stayed with Skullcrusher while Krom'gar wandered over to the bunkhouses (which were just lean-tos). After a quick count, he noticed there were only three bunk houses. He walked over to a bored looking guard who had just moments before been picking his nose and asked, "Uh, where's bunk tent thing four?"
The guard let out a hearty guffaw and continued to laugh uproariously for several minutes, during which Krom'gar noticed unpleasantly the guard had what appeared to be boar ligament stuck between his front two teeth, and after finally settling down enough to speak, replied, "Bunkhouse four is there."
Krom'gar followed the guard's finger and saw he was pointing at a blanket draped over what appeared to be six or so cacti.
The guard chuckled again, "Bunkhouse four is reserved for people who piss of Skullcrusher on day one. And there's really only one way to piss of Skullcrusher…"
Krom'gar rolled his eyes and walked downtrodden to his cactus house.
He was really starting to hate his life.
