The dense emerald canopy that concealed Un'Goro from the cosmic display of a midnight sky provided only a small distraction for the tauren hunter. It was only a few, short days until their supplies were transported, completely, to Gadgetzan. There was a great deal to consider. It was not just simple trade that had stirred the thoughts of the Savage Lord.
Mato mused silently, upon the forested cliff side that provided moderate safety from the jungle dwelling carnivores below. Twice now, he had been approached. Twice now, he had been accused or questioned upon his standing with the Forgotten. Rumors had surfaced that his kin, because of their location, had aligned themselves with the Twilight cultists. The thought was laughable at best. Insulting at worse.
Had people forgotten so quickly who it was who spearheaded the campaign against Apophan and his cult? Who it was that defended Thunder Bluff from the Forgotten and their allies? Who sent reinforcements into Moonglade when the cult sought to reduce it to cinders?
No. Of course, no one would remember. It was obvious that if people believed, for a split second, that the great Lord of Un'Goro would surrender his principles - like many before him - to join forces with Apophan's brood then they themselves had not the slightest inklings to the history between theses two opposing factions.
Unfortunately, and to no great surprise to Mato, history was already being rewritten by those he had "wronged." The hunter scoffed. Rather than face their own mistakes, they painted him as the cause to all their distress. While crimes where being committed under their banner, these "great" and "honorable" men chose to turn a blind eye. Even after pleading to them countless times, for action, for resolution... for justice... Mato was told only one thing... "My hands are tied."
As the saying goes, all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. If they could not lift the sword, then the Savage Lord would.
He was use to it by now; The baseless accusations. The historical distortions. The demogoging. For years now, cowards and villains alike have made a monster out of the Savage Lord. Though the idea itself was rather intriguing, almost flattering, it was all for the wrong reasons. It was because Mato decided to stand up and fight for whats right, he was called the tyrant.
Very well, the hunter thought as he lifted from his perch. If he was to be a tyrant, perhaps then he would give the world a proper reason for his new found title. After all, "good" and "honorable" men needed a monster to compare themselves to. A creature of great influence and fear to build upon their facade of infallible heroism.
This was a game Mato was all too familiar with. A game he had conquered time and time again. As usual, he would play. However, unlike before, he will set the rules and in time, everyone will come know the truth.