Character: Warlord Dranosh Saurfang, Warchief Varok’s son and heir
Being the heir of a Warchief is a rather fickle business. As much as we like to pretend we abandoned our old bloodlust and that we no longer hold the villains of the Old Horde in high regard, we are still orcs. We still love battle, and at a moment’s notice, someone can jump out at Varok, I meant father, and decide it’s now their turn to lead the Horde. I do not fear for father’s life, for he is a warrior like few others, but everybody has a bad day from time to time. Or someone could poison the blade of his enemy and make the new Warchief win without honor. So as certain as I can claim to be in public, I am never completely certain if I will ever become the Warchief. Or if I want that to happen to at all.
Timeline: Unnumbered, distant timeline
Character: Biker Grom Hellscream, boss of the Warsong Gang
Two older draenei commoners sat on the chairs outside of a liquor shop on the outskirts of Telmor. To them, it was just another afternoon in a dreary backwater town. They spent their time like any other afternoon, having nothing more important to do, just gossiping about their neighbours, complaining about the politicians and the lack of money. But as they were busy with their daily rout, an ear-splitting noise began to reach them. One of them looked out into the distance and saw something they both hated – a gang of motorcycle-riding orcs, wearing leather and metal chains and shouting like madmen to the wind. In front of their column, a loud and proud leader of the gang – Grommash Hellscream. The two men quickly sat politely in their chairs, pretending not to see the commotion. When the loud noise of the orcish motorbikes passed, they looked at each other.
“Them orcs,” one of the men said, “They’re gonna make trouble, I tell ya.”