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Bok’theg’s Journal entry #1
It was a strange evening tonight. The main Grin forces returned successfully from their attack on Ironforge. I was not there for the Great Disaster but many of our clan had been and the gleam that can be seen in their eyes speaks volumes to the satisfaction felt at the strike on their city. The Warchief himself is almost giddy. I have never seen the orc so happy before. The cheers that erupted from the assembled troops when he pulled the dwarf king’s bloody arm from its wrappings and held it up was almost deafening. Apparently they had also sacked the Exodar directly afterwards as I heard some Raiders discussing the arrival of Alliance forces in the temple to defend the Prophet.
Obviously, the Chief’s strikes brought the ire of the Alliance for it was not long after that a sneak attack by the Grim Covenant hit Stonard and then disappeared before the Grin could reorganize. That was when the Tauren arrived.
He was of no particular importance and the Warchief, thinking he was simply another confused grot told him to get into line. His intentions were soon made clear as he loudly challenged the Chieftain to a duel, yelling something about a blood-debt owed by Gorfrunch. I wonder…could the appearance of this tauren have something to do with the rumors of the dead Chieftain’s supposed reincarnation? This is something I must investigate further. I was afraid I might not get the chance however, as the Chieftain nearly beat the bull senseless. It was really no match between the older orc and the young tauren. Strangely, despite the calls for the intruders immediate execution, something stayed Yagyu’s hand. What it was I cannot say but he must have felt something for when the tauren removed his helm, the Warchief was taken aback at his resemblance to the fallen Warlord Faquarl.
I must admit, I do not understand how an orc could think so highly of a Tauren but apparently the Chieftain feels he owes some debt to Faquarl’s memory. Not only did he spare the life of this Rawlk (as I later discovered his name to be) but he even invited him to join the Grin and train with them. I believe Rawlk was as shocked by this gesture as the rest of the clan. The only one who did not seem surprised was the tauren druid, Felora. I confess, I do not trust the sychophantic love these tauren all seem to have for one another. Just seeing them fawn all over the Chieftain and each other makes me want to pull off their heads. But I digress…
Whatever the reason, the Chief seems to believe this tauren worthy of being granted a place within our clan. I will have to see what secrets he holds and use them to my advantage. Perhaps some good can come of this after all.
Rawlk had not enjoyed his first few weeks within the Grin. The slobs seemed to hold his father within such a disgusting reverence. The fools had no idea who he was. What he did before he joined their ranks. Who he worked for WHILE he was in their ranks.
No, these Blacktooth Grin could only think in black and white. Good and evil. They could not understand that the content of character is made of gray, whose shade is darkened by their lust for power. There was one member of the Grin who seemed incapable of even attempting to listen. Her name was Felora. The most brain washed of any of them. The others, for all of their faults, might get away with apathy about their former warlord.
The Grin who didn't care had some respect from Rawlk. It was much easier to associate with those who didnt care than those who spoke about what they didn't know. Rawlk had one single possession from his father. He had received this while his father was a warlord within the Grin. It was a journal. In this journal was proof from his father's hand that Faquarl was a traitor to the Grin and these self righteous zealots to their clan worshiped a false idol.
The reason Faquarl wasn't flaunting this journal about to prove his point to the Grin was not only because he doubted half of them could read. Rawlk didn't want them to know. Why should he tell them the truth? Why tamper with his father's destructive path, especially if they were blissful in their ignorance. There was no point in it.
Rawlk sat within Stagalbog Cave, amid boxes and supplies of the Grin that still lay about from their staging point of their last campaign. Murlocs had been eyeing him cautiously as if his presence brought back memories of a time before. He leafed through his father's journal, something he half despised himself for every time he opened it, but he had to admit his father did know one thing. His father knew how to get power and it was power that Rawlk wanted. Power was the reason he joined the Grin. Power meant everything to Rawlk and the journal described phenomenon that Rawlk could hardly fathom as well as things that were all too predictable of his father.
Stories of the Grin searching for the ghost of Gorfrunch had reached him by now, but he knew that if he couldnt kill Yagyu yet. Gorfrunch would be far too much of a challenge. Sacrifices would have to be made, and if reading about the source of Faquarl's power was one of them. Rawlk was willing to follow his father, but only because he knew he could achieve so much more.
Bok’theg’s Journal
January 26th
I am glad that I finally decided to record the events of time with this clan. Why I did not do so sooner I can only chalk up to my own ignorance. This record will serve as a useful reference to me in my future pursuits with this clan.
I must admit that despite my own feelings, I find myself inexplicably drawn to their zeal and lust for battle. They are not the simpletons I first thought them to be. There is power to be had here. Just how much I have only begun to realize. Metalfist either did not know of their potential or was deliberately attempting to prevent me from seeing it. Regardless, I must be cautious only to reveal as much as absolutely necessary to the Shadow Council from now on. There is much to be gained with this clan, and with the elf Shadiel gone, I can now pursue my own goals in relative security.
Now that my place is secure, I can begin to solidify my alliances. The warrior Maccabeus has already shown that he is one to trust. His hate for the living is enjoyable to watch and his disdain for the elves is equally amusing. The witch Eydrana, I sense is a kindred spirit. I find it ironic that a witch-elf should be so close to my own way of thinking. However, the contract she holds over me is a problem I must find a solution to. It could prove dangerous in the long run.
Finally there is the newcomer Rawlk. The tauren seems somehow different from the others of his breed who strut around the camp reveling in their disgusting righteousness. Even the death-knight Demonaro seems to have forgotten his bloodlust and reminds me more of his wretched brother with each passing day. But Rawlk seems yet untouched by mercy. Even the stay of execution by the Warchief seems only to have emboldened the young bull. Rather than fawn over him like the rest of his ilk he sits and watches with hateful eyes. I must be sure to introduce myself to this promising young prospect. He may prove to be a tauren worthy of trust. Having a strong young warrior in my camp would prove very useful.
There is still one of whom I must be wary though…but for now the Warchief has seen fit to protect me from the old orc. I must not let my guard slip however; the shaman could prove more dangerous than the mage ever was.