FicWad

I have always wanted to do things with other clans than the 'normal' or playable in game clans of orcs. So that is what I started here. This is based in the mag'har aka 'uncorrupted' brown skinned orcs in Nagrand. It is my take on what life would be like before Thrall's visit as well as all the adventurers that flood into the region in during that time.

Wow belongs to Blizzard. Questions/reviews are welcomed.

Talbuks while their bodies were beautifully marked in stripes, they were also a formidable prey. Athrum shifted her weight off her twisted ankle, it had nearly broken when she was chasing after a doe she had aimed to kill earlier. The irritation had slowed her down enough to allow the creature to return to the herd, thus tossing her back to square one in her hunting.

She grunted unhappily as a body slipped almost silently beside her, she didn't need to look to know it was Karga. She kept her eyes fastened upon the herd of the horned creatures in hopes she would go away. "I am in Om'riggor," she snarled when the slightly older female did not leave. "I will not have you corrupt my rite with your presence."

"Fine," she returned in just as harsh tones. Than held up a dead rabbit by the ears. "I am done with mine, was going to share the blood with you."

"The shaman will know it is not talbuk," she snapped a little to loudly and the herd shifted away from the hiding spot closer to the safety of the large tree. She lowered her volume of her voice and glared at Karga.

Karag was like any other female in Garadar, brutishly broad and stocky, her brown flesh was lighter like her father. She had tusks protruding from her lower jaw that were much longer than her own. She had a full head of hair which she kept in two short tails that resemble antenna with the thick wraps she used to keep them pointing to the sky. She shrugged a shoulder, her copper colored eyes drifted toward the herd Athrum was intent on staring at. Karga, in Athrum's option, would be almost handsome if she wasn't always trying to bend the rules and skirt around responsibilities. "It is not a shame I will inflict upon myself, now leave."

"They won't know, blood is blood. Not unless someone tells them," her brown broad features held an expression of the threat that was left unsaid. "Guess I'll be there when Selm returns," she laughed evilly before slipping through the brush with unnatural stealth.

Athrum shook her head, her hand brushed off a fly from her partially bald scalp. The herd wasn't settling so she took her leave of it, the third day of her solo hunt was ending very badly. Anger bubbled inside her the way Karga seemed to laugh in the face of their clan's traditions, they were there for a reason. She moved deeper toward Skysong Lake where other clusters of the needed beasts would be. She was hungry and tired from all the tracking she had been doing, she still hadn't found the doe she had managed to nick with her dagger.

With a grunt she dropped to the ground next to a tree, rubbing her palms over her face. Her mind whirled with all she had to do to make camp, she had been practicing living off the land for many cycles to prepare for this event. She was eager to show the clan she was indeed an adult and than she would find one of the males to settle down with. A grin spread over her lips as her thoughts rested upon the orc she had in mind. Selm, who had easily waded through the om'rigger last cycle. It was only a matter of time before he would take a mate. She wanted to be there before his eyes as a worthy adult and good hunter, she knew in her heart of hearts he would pick her.

She let her mind wander with the dream of him forsaking all the others, especially Karga, and pulling her into his arms after the union ceremony. Athrum planned to look down her nose at Karga who would be weeping bitterly at the defeat. She would relished that moment, she planned to memorized every aspect of Karga's distress to recall during the long days of tending to the many children she would bring to Selm.

Her gut twisted knowing Karga would be in the village wooing her man, only than did she remember he was currently doing an errand for Great Grandmother Gyah. The venerable leader had grown weaker over the last few cycles, the rumor about the clansmen was grandmother was seeking Earthcaller Rya for advise on her current state of health. Others whispered she was after another in at the post, one of a male persuasion. Who knew if those were true or not, Athrum couldn't decide which hand to place her trust in.

A snap of a twig pulled her back to reality, her hand was upon the hilt of her dagger that was tucked safely at her hip. A deep grunt followed by small trees snapping as a clefthoof came into view, the large tongue of the wooly animal wrapped around a clump of grass and pulled into the waiting mouth.

Athrum frowned, she was not even frightening enough to ward off the lazy herbivore. She tried not to make it reflect badly on her bruised ego, the creature was big enough not to be afraid of much these plains had to offer. She rose, wrinkling her nose at the stench of fecal matter and dirt the creature gave off. If there was one clefthoof there would be more soon. They tend not to watch where they tread, for the clan had lost a child not long ago who was smashed by a hoof of the grazer.

She just wanted to finish the rite and return to the village with a blood soaked face to be there when Selm arrived from his travels. Athrum decided to pull an all-nighter and pin down her query and get ready to be counted as the adults in the clan. She could see in her minds eye the other females actually giving her a little more respect when she walked through the dirt paths of the village.

Athrum shook her head and set her mind on getting the job done without any more daydreams.
Stalking along the lake where three talbuk stood near a tree, still mostly save a flick of an ear or tail to chase off the biting flies. She was pretty sure they were asleep and would make for an easier target, she crept closer and paused letting the sounds of the night surrounds them. Inch forward, wait and check the wind to keep her scent downwind of the herd beast. Her hand clutched her dagger when she was in arms length of the doe, her heart was racing so fast she barely could hear anything but the drumming in her ears. She felt giddy with anticipation at what she knew would be a clean kill. All she had to do was leap on the animal, slide her dagger across the throat and thank the spirit of the animal.

It was simple and perfect, nothing could go wrong.

She vaulted into the air, her blade gleaming in the pale light she arched beautifully toward the creature. Her sudden appearance spooked the doe which darted away faster than she ever thought possible. Her blade merely scraped the back flank of the frightened animal. She belly flopped on the moist dirt with a grunt, the dagger bounced from her palm. She pushed herself to a kneeling position and searched the long grass for the lost weapon. She knew she was loosing the animal with each moment she was wasting.

With a growl she ran after it, her mind spinning with options available to her. She was limited to breaking the neck or suffocating it. Neither was pleasing, she had to do something. Having another slightly scrapped up talbuk wasn't an option.

Once she caught up with the animal who had slowed slightly, eyes still wild with fear. Athrum took a higher path on the hillside giving the doe reason to slow a few more paces, it was then she dropped upon the animal. Her hands wrapped around those sharp horns, her momentum grounded the herd beast. The talbuk fell hard that would have broken any number of bones, only Athrum did not land right on the beast as she hoped. Her shoulder and hip slammed on the ground before smashing into the talbuk, the creature let out the most annoying sound piercing the night air with its fear fill call.

The beast swung the horns back toward the orc, the sharp tip dug into her shoulder. She almost screamed in pain when it hit the joint, nearly caused her to roll away. The doe started shaking her head to free her horn from the brown flesh it was planted to, the legs kicked trying to gain footing on the grassy ground. The action brought fire through Athrum's joint and surrounding flesh, her thick fingers wrapped around the slick horn to prevent the wound to be torn open farther. The sharp hooves were kicking the tar out of her thighs and stomach, leaving thick whelps and bruises in their wake.

The continual cries of the doe brought a few sires to the spot, they kicked and tore at Athrum's back with their horns and hooves. One even slammed his head against the orc nearly knocking her senseless, still she hung on everything in her future depended on it. The doe under her was feeling the full three hundred plus pounds of the thick orc on top. The breathing became labored until the cries softened and eventually stopped all together.

The other talbuk wandered away when the alarm was silent, leaving Athrum victorious with her first kill. Not as glorious as she would have liked, still the deed was done. She pried her aching body off the dead animal and went back to the shore to find her dagger.

It was half hidden under some dirt, she returned offered the prayer to the animal's spirit before cutting the throat. She let her hands wash with the warm liquid before smearing it on her face. The coppery smell flooded her senses, her chest heaving with the thrill of the victory burning inside her. Her wounds were forgotten when she threw her head back and emitted a long feral roar, she was left breathless and teeming with energy she had only felt hinting in the past. Mostly when she was being taught the art of combat and the frustration that it had brought to her when she wasn't able to catch on to the lessons.

She had never fully realized the rush of a kill until this very second, she wanted to do it again. Only this time with better skills of a great hunter instead of luck of the weak. It was truly additive, she would have to be careful to use it against her enemies.

She licked her lips tasting the cooling blood on them, her eyes darted about the darkened area the plains had fallen back into normalcy. She didn't feel different after her moment had worn off, she was still Athrum of the Mag'har clan. The clan of the weak and shamed, Athrum didn't feel either nor could she peg that on any of the clansmen. They are all strong and proud in their own right. The sickness that had brought everyone here in the first place was far behind them, the healers had worked tirelessly until a cure was seized. Athrum was one of the lucky ones who had been born shortly after sickness had been contained.

Straightening her shoulders she headed back to the village to claim her right to be one of them.
Most of the fires were mere glowing coals, the lights in the dome shaped huts were long since put out. The lookouts were the main movement in the sleeping settlement. Athrum didn't receive the cheers or pats on the back like she had always imagined she would upon returning from her hunt. Athrum frowned to see only one of the shaman houses still lit up, she moved toward it wanting to end this most depressing day.

She politely knocked on the doorframe of the hut, once she heard the grunt from within. She pushed the thick hide curtain out of the way and stepped inside. The shaman was grinding herbs in a stone mortar causing the rich smell to permeate the air. She knelt near the older orc and felt a little unworthy, if she had only taken the talbuk down in a better way. "I have done all that was asked of me," she finally whispered.

The shaman's eyebrows shot up in surprised to see the initiate so damaged. "What did you do take it down with your bare hands?"

Athrum only glanced at her and gave her a half smile and a grunt. The older woman waved her closer and she dapped a finger on the crimson smear. After a few tense moments she nodded and deemed it true. "Well done, you have taken your first step into adulthood," she moved her stiff limbs until she was on her feet. "Now, lets tend to those wounds."