"Joining the Horde was a mistake" Elder Earthenhide, Tauren Shaman.
As Spoken by Elder Earthenhide, Tauren Shaman
For many seasons we have said 'this isn't the Horde we joined; this isn't Thrall's Horde anymore'. With earnest fire we seek to restore the spirit of shamanism and brotherhood that once united us, to unchange the Horde from it's dark path. And yet, as sure as mountains will ever be made of stone and rivers of water, I see now that the horde cannot be cured. The Horde is not sick; the Horde is a sickness. There was no rebirth; the 'old' Horde never died.
Wearied and old I at last hear the hollow truth in the winds, and taste it in the waters; Thrall's Horde never existed. It was but a mirage cast across the dirt of Durotar, the tragic fantasy of a good orc. When did the Horde ever atone? When did it heal? Thrall was no saviour: to the horde, Thrall was just the next Warchief, like Doomhammer and Blackhand before him. We tauren joined him in a dream, a wonderful dream where land and people aligned with the elements to bring peace and renewal.
How does one renew the undead? How were we to heal the Warlocks lurking within the cleft of shadow? What remedy is there for Garrosh' bloodlust; that which he shares with his father and the legions of Orcs feverishly brandishing their axes in his name? What is the cure for darkspear voodoo and shadow magic? What rituals might cleanse the elves of their fel tainted scorn? What alternative to goblin drilling and snaring of the nature might we devise? Did we ever even try to address these hopeless causes? No, my brothers and sisters, we beat our drums, dreamed our dreams, and that is all.
Even a calf knows that some wounds cannot heal. A rotten gash can only fester and contaminate. Such a wound festers at the heart of the Horde, it always has. Look into Thrall's eyes when he gazes upon Orgrimmar and you see the sadness. Why do you think he left this... lie? He is ashamed; he sees himself for the fool he is, the fool that damned my people with his grand mirage. Every day we remain in this corrupt affiliation the Tauren spirit is sapped. Already the earthen ring has been debased with vile goblin 'shamanism'.
And yet, my tired heart weeps; for it may be too late. We are Horde now. In return for aid against the centaur we consigned ourselves to oblivion; better to die as Tauren than to at last be one with the Horde. From the very beginning we have thankfully been outsiders, unable to properly grasp the great tragedies that have befallen those of the Horde; naive enough to think we might heal them. But what if we cannot leave? Will the Alliance leave us be, now that we have enabled and been party to so many atrocities? I should not blame them if not, though it pains me to acknowledge it. Do not forget the Horde; there is a viciousness at it's heart, a hunger for vengeance; do you think Garrosh Hellscream would simply let us leave? Has anyone ever 'left' the Horde?
Cairne is dead, and with him goes the leadership to do what must be done and leave this rotten Horde, even if it is desolation and destruction that we face doing so. Do not fool yourself, those are our choices- to leave and die as tauren, or persist and become something else, something worse than the centaur we joined this accursed junta to defeat. May the spirits of our ancestors forgive us for our foolishness, for our disrespect, for inviting this infection into our ancestral land and homes, for sending our braves armed to spread it across azeroth.
A young tauren warrior rises from the crowd, and without hesitation he voices his objections.
Surely revered shaman spoke of one truth: That he is old and tired. Too old that his eyes are now clouded to the truth, too tired to admit the path of challange. I was a mere calf, thus only heard of the times in which our people strided those beautiful green plains with fear, always keeping an eye at their backs.. The fear of centaur was great, as elders told us, untill Thrall arrived.
I am a simple warrior, my brothers and my sisters, and i took my oath and vowed my life for our Chieftain. But i know this: We are complete with the "Horde". We bashed our ancient enemies, the centaur, and quilboar, and harpies that palgued the plains, and enemies from beyond the wildest dreams of our far seers.. The Horde gave us purpose, if nothing else. We have our homes, a place we call our city that rise high above the plains. And all thanks to the bravery of those we now seek to woe.
Yes, i know of this 'Warchief' and his cronies. Even as we speak, our borthers and sisters give their lives under his command, in the treacherous swamps of Ksarang, or on the icy peaks of Kun-Lai.. Yet, they do not give their lives for 'him'. They give their lives for the 'dream', that our revered shaman here speaks so ill of. A dream where we live alongside our brothers, as equals. A dream that i would fight for. A dream i would gladly die for!
That is why we must unite, now more than ever! We must stand tall as our ancestors did before us, like the great Chieftain Cairn showed us all. We must take arms in the way of warrior and honor our ancestor's spirits with the blood of the defilers! We must fight for our dream, for the future of our calfs! We should never run away from this inevitable truth: Horde is our future! We must fight for it! We must fight to make things right! We must oust the tyrants and bash the oppressors! We must show them the strenght of our people, and of our will to see our dream come true.
We must persist, but not to become something worse! We must persist because we should leave a heritage to our calfs worthy of a tauren! Never again shall our people look behind in fear! We shall look forward, now and forever, straight into the eyes of our foes and let them tremble at our sight! We shall crush them, whether they be some outsider, or from inside the Horde! That is the way of the warrior, and that is the way of our ancestors.
Because Horde is us, and we are the Horde.. Let our drums beat and echo once more, and let the Tyrant tremble in fear.
Last edited by Mengucekli; 2013-05-23 at 08:04 AM.
Earthenhide dips his head in deep contemplation, furrowing his brow to hide wet eyes
I know the beat of that drum, I myself beat it for longer than I'd care to admit. Mesmerised by the dancing licks of flame I made the very same case against the elders of my day. Now I am used up, Thunder Bluff is polluted, and the Horde sicker than ever. I am tired. My weary horns are brittle under the weight of a life of disappointment, futility, and violence. We stand taller and mightier than ever, this is true; but at what cost?
And yet, to see the uncorrupted fire of youth burning in the full form of tauren spirit gives me some hope. It is for old bulls like me to mourn the terrible losses of the last age, and for the young to go forth and make something of the new one. Such it is that the old guard must at times yield to the new, that the aged must heed the mandate of youth, and that the cycle must continue.
Earthenhide turns to face the Northerly Wind
This old shaman has had enough. The spirits have spoken and are in agreement against me. Or, at least, Northward they call me. Off the spirit rise and and down from Thunder Bluff entirely, to Stonetalon Pass. There I'll share the company of the wind and the mountains, and escape this smoke of war and intrigue that irritates and obscures the simple truth of things.
Casting off his shield and mantle, the shaman leaves the crowd, crestfallen.
I have given in to my anger, and i spoke harsh words. I must atone.
He runs and catches up with the elderly shaman. Getting in front of him and saluting him with respect, he speaks.
Please forgive my manners, revered elder. I have spoken hastily, and with an anger which was unnecessary. Please accept my sincere apologies. My fury is not for people that are concerned for our well being, but for the tyrants that seek our demise.
We youngsters need the guidance and advice of you elders now more than ever. As a matter of fact, i do believe you are far stronger than us. I am full of fury, because i fear of what might come, yet i want to face it no matter what. I do not have a day in which i do not wish to give my life in honorable combat for my tribe and my people.. So that i would not face what might come afterwards. But you, you must be very strong, far stronger than us, to be able to face so many perils since the past, and yet still you stand. I can not comprehend how much strife you had to overcome, and how much of a burden you still carry with you. That is a strength i can not even imagine to wield.. Your body may be old, and tired, but your mind and soul have the power to carry that burden.
Stonetalon is no more a place where one can find peace, alas the Tyrant brought death and destruction even to innocent. Then please, let me be your shield and sword in the perils you may face. I may yet have things to learn from you.
Perhaps it is the disconnect between our generations that is our true threat. Without the passion and optimism of youth, the elderly may poison themselves with cynicism and torpor. Without the experience and wisdom of age, the young may charge furiously in the wrong direction.
I was wrong to discount Cairne's decision to join the Horde. Young and old were united in that decision; to reimagine it as a foolish mistake of naivety is to scorn our ancestors who in their wisdom sanctioned it.
You have given me pause, young Warrior. It is folly to run from the troubles of our time; and yet, the elements do call me from my stump here at Thunder Bluff...
Earthenhide places his hand upon the Warrior's shoulder
Rise and salute me not. Instead, take me as your companion, young Warrior. I am Muahe Earthenhide, last of my name; such it is that most often I am known only by my clan name. I would travel with you to find once more that noble spark that burns so bright in your tauren heart. Not as master and student, but as equals, with much to learn from each other. In some manner, I might unmake the mistakes of my youth in aiding you. Like sun and moon, earth and water- the Shaman is made to stand with the Warrior. The spring torrent of youth may yet rejuvenate this withered old stump.
The troubles ahead will be your generation's great trial; would you take an old shaman with you to war?
Young warrior raised his head with a grim look on his face.
I'm afraid i have no elders to ask permission from.
Then his face broadened, with a sigh of relief he raised his hand for a handshake.
My name is Cawind Cloudstrider, last of my tribe. I lost my uncle a few months ago, who raised me. He was the last of my family. The others, i never knew. I have trained under Master Sark Ragetotem. Training was hard, but i can use some real combat to further hone my skills. My last mission in Northern Barrens did not go so well..
Earthenhide took the warrior's glance and nodded shortly
As you have no elders, I have no youngers; may the ailing Earthenhide and Cloudstrider tribes strike out and claim their final legacy.
Back to the Barrens with you. Where you once fell, the water will now catch and replenish you; where your blows fell weak, fire will carry them true; where your once guard tremored, it will now hold fast as the earth beneath your feet. May the drums of Thunder Bluff someday thump the song of Cawind and Mauhe, Warrior and Shaman; they who brought steel and fire to their enemies, and honour and rest to their ancestors.
To overcome the tyrant is will be your first great challenge; to aid you in becoming a great warrior of the cloudstrider tribe will be my last.