The roots of the clan were never far from my mind. As I progressed in my travels, I gained more and more hatred, more and more burning fury in my mind… so much so that it was like a hurricane in my belly and head, a storm on the inside that I concealed with mere self-control. I have seen fellow orcs consumed by Blood Fury; I laugh at them on the inside. They feel so horrible and powerful at the same time, and yet I just felt the horror. Such pain I felt that before I lay down to sleep at night I screamed in my mind, wishing to roar in pain and the longing for more blood… a pain I share now with only one person… but I digress. The pain numbed the senses, and though the spirits told me to release this anger, to let it go, I could not. In truth, I had been scarred by my past, and I would not be able to live without the screams of battle… and so I moved on to the province of the Stonetalon Mountains.Such memories of Stonetalon! Such glorious warfare! I admit, it was rather rare to see Alliance in Stonetalon, but I had good, good feelings from that land. I guess it reminded me a bit of Durotar, in a ruggedly comfortable kind of way. I could not stay in Ashenvale for long; the lands belonged to the Nightelves in my mind, and Stonetalon to us. The shade of Ashenvale was not for me; I needed the sun and wind. Let the rogues and mages wander into that land; as for me, my soul rested in Stonetalon. It felt like home, and over time my name became well-known in the village of Sun Rock. I was victorious over many adversaries… but alas, though such memories I have of Stonetalon, I cannot say that all were pleasant. Though I never lost once to adventurers of my prowess (or slightly above), as I was coming victorious from a minor skirmish in Winshear Crag, I was cut down by a pair of Alliance outrunners, the likes of which I had never seen the prowess… I could not even begin to estimate their strength, they were so high a level. Foolish was I; though I was not fully dead, when my consciousness returned to my body I continued to Sun Rock. What I saw there was a bitter, bitter memory, and not very timely. The outrunners were slaughtering all in Sun Rock, and even some travelers I had seen along the way. I was forced to hide, first on a cliff and then in the local inn. The tauren in the main room did not seem aware of what was going on, and I could not wake him. He seemed to be in a trance. Though I consider myself to be in shape even now, I had not the strength to move him. His own physical prowess, which had undoubtedly saved his life so many times before, would now be the bane of him. Though my heart plagued me that I could not save him, I heard the door be knocked in. They were coming! The storm in my mind was cackling, screaming wildly for battle against the forces that killed my family then and my friends now. Though I had always considered my life to be a meaningless thing (thus was the tradition of Draenor, and the tradition of my clan), the spirits were screaming louder than ever before, louder even then the fire within. For a moment I lost control of my body, and without my consent I jumped over the balcony of the inn. My body sat behind that inn for at least an hour… I could only look over the corner of the inn to see my companions die one by one. I looked over at the travelers I had seen bustling through the town… they could be resurrected. However, I remembered the tauren, and many others throughout the village; they were too far gone. I called upon the spirits mournfully, and I was transformed into nature's form of flesh… the spirit wolf. The spirits gave me no other option… I had to retreat. My mind felt torn in two; the storm in my head told me to turn and fight, yet the spirits screamed to run. I guess the form I had taken had some effect on this inward battle, and my body chose to respond to the spirits instead of me. My body left the field, but my mind long stayed in Sun Rock. I had in my book the things these people had asked me to do for them before they died, and I finished these tasks for their memory before coming back to Sun Rock. My forty-odd clansmen had agreed to leave me be for the two hours I would spend in mourning for the souls of the departed. I sat, knees bent, at the memorial fire I had set in their honor. The fire was fueled by nature itself; even the tears from my eyes would not ever weaken the small fire I had set. But as my tears stopped flowing and the residue attached itself to my face, my expression changed. My soul, weighed down with the memories of those I could not save, was reacting to the pain in the only way it knew how……rage.[Level 24