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September 10, 2009
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Thorm and his sister laughed happily as they kicked their leather ball around the red dirt of Durotar. The sun was high in the sky, burning down onto the red land. Thorm didn’t mind the heat; he was quite used to the sun blazing overhead in cloudless skies, and as a young orc of eleven years, it was good for him. He was getting hungry though. He smiled as he caught the scent of the wild boar his father had slain roasting over the pit behind their hut.

“Hey Roma, let's go see if supper is ready.” He grinned at his sister.

“Can't you ever take you mind off your stomach?” Roma laughed back. She was three years younger than him, but was already his equal in mind. “Mother already said she would call us when it was done.”

“I know,” Thorm scowled, crossing his arms, “But what if she forgot? What if she fell asleep by the fire?” He argued foolishly. “Then our supper would burn and we’d go hungry.”

Roma shook her head, chuckling at her brother’s thick-headedness. “Very well, we can go see.”

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At the same time, halfway across the world, a young man named Robert Parker was ploughing a field in Elwynn forest. His mule was being stubborn and refusing to go any further. He sighed and approached the mule, pulling a carrot out of his back pocket. The mule looked at the carrot longingly and pulled forward a few inches, just to have the carrot pulled back slightly. Robert chuckled and continued to tempt the mule until the field had been finished, smiling and wiping the sweat off his brow as he finally fed the carrot to the animal.

“Heh… Good thinking, Rob,” His father laughed, slapping his hand down onto Robert’s shoulder, “Let’s go inside and eat. I could use a meal.” His father, Thomas Parker, finished, chuckling and walking back to the house. The two were instantly greeted by the heavenly smell of a hearty stew that was already being served to two other young boys.

“ ’Bout time you two came in for supper,” Robert’s mother, Nancy Parker, smiled, lightly kissing her husband on the cheek as she prepared two more bowls and finally her own.

“Thanks honey,” Thomas smiled, “You’ll be happy to know that the fields are almost ready for planting season.”

They had just sat down to eat when there was a knock at the door.

“Well now who could that be?” Nancy asked, curious. They didn’t have anyone nearby that would come to their door, especially at suppertime. Thomas stood, irritated at the delay in his meal, and opened the door to find a Stormwind guard.

“Greetings, sir. I’ve been ordered to issue an alert to everyone in the area. There have been several sightings of orcs in these parts, and the king thinks it best if this area were evacuated.” The guard said slowly, giving the family time to digest what they had just heard.

“Evacu- What? We’re not going anywhere. This is my land. A few orcs are no match for my rifle. Come back when there’s an army coming.” Thomas snapped back, trying to shut the door.

The guard pushed his steel booted foot in the doorway, preventing it from being closed. “That’s the thing sir,” The soldier continued irritatedly, “We think that there very well might be an army coming through.” The guard paused, as Thomas opened the door again, “There’s been some issues in Northrend with the Horde. We’re in a war. The King has already taken control of Theramore in preparation for a strike against Durotar. It’s quite possible the brutes are trying the same, and we can’t take any chances. Reports of orc scouts are coming in and its possible that an army might not be far out. Go ahead and finish your meal. I’ll wait. But after, I’m going to have to ask you to gather your things and come with me.”

Thomas sighed, looking back at his family, concern saturating every one of their faces. “Alright,” He sighed, returning to his place at the table.

-------------------------------------------

Thorm gnawed at the bones of his piece of boar meat, trying to get every last scrap of meat free from the carcass.

“Well, Thorm,” His father, Thorg, began, smiling, “How about we go hunting tomorrow? Catch us another one of these?”

Thorm smiled widely, understanding what his father was asking of him. He had just been given his first steel axe yesterday, but he didn’t expect his father to actually ask him to accompany him hunting. “Of course, father. It would be my honor.” Thorm grinned, looking to his axe at the door.

The day passed and Thorm was barely able to sleep in anticipation of the hunt, but finally found rest, sleeping soundly through the night. Finally, far before sunrise, he was awoken by his father.

“Come, I know where the boars drink in the morning. But we must hurry, they leave for other lands when the sun rises.”

Thorm nodded, following his father out the door, reaching for his axe as he did so. He loved his axe. He loved the way it felt in his hands. He loved the weight of the head. Someday he would be catching beasts for his own family to eat, and this axe was his ticket there.

Finally they reached the watering hole, where dozens of wild boars of varying size and age drank.

“Which one, father?” Thorm asked, before his father put his hand to his lips and gave him a stern look. The boars had quite apparently heard them, and stared in their direction for several second before returning to their drinking. Thorg turned back to the boars, slowly approaching them and beckoning his son to follow. He spotted his target, a large boar of many years, and drew his hunting bow. He nodded at Thorm, making sure his son was observing, nocked an arrow, and carefully took aim, drawing his bowstring taut. Finally, he fired, his arrow flying through the air into the boat’s haunch. He was quick to follow, charging at the boar, his axe at the ready. Thorm ran after, swinging his own axe clumsily. Thorg made sure he got the boars attention, staying away from the beast’s razor-sharp tusks as he let his son position himself behind the boar. Thorm gritted his teeth, focusing on where he intended to hit, raised his axe above his head, and brought the blade down upon the boar’s spine, smiling as it fell to the ground.

“Good, my son,” Thorg smiled, snapping the beasts neck to make sure it was dead, and nodding to his son. “Do not forget mercy, my boy. This is overlooked by many orcs, but it is as much a part of honor as any other. We have bested our opponent, and by granting him mercy, we show our honor.”

Thorm nodded, watching as his father hoisted the immense beast over his shoulder, before stopping suddenly.

“What is it, father?” He asked, looking up confusedly.

“I don’t know. I smell humans. That’s not right,” He paused, noticing a troop of mounted humans coming over the horizon. “Stay here. I need to see what this is about.” He finished, dropping the boar and walking toward the humans.

Thorm watched as his father walked into the distance to meet the strangers. His father grew closer to them, and closer. And then he fell. Thorm stared in shock as his father dropped to the ground, barely able to see the bow that the human held.

He turned and ran as fast as he could home.
Part 1 of a story I came up with out of boredom.
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