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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.
Your greatest moment has yet to come...
It was those words that rung true above all other thoughts within Mato's mind. As supplies began to pour in from the east, the Savage Lord wandered his gaze into the emerald thicket.
This was destiny, he mused to himself. His moment. His prize. His conquest.
For weeks now, he had been training his kinsmen, the loyal savages of Un'Goro who had sworn fealty to him. As they began to gather, he turned his attention to them. Adopting a slow pace, he inspected each battle-sister and every war-brother thoroughly. They were all armored and armed accordingly to his specifications. While some looked uncomfortable in their new "skin", many of them were twitching with anticipation. Not since the Culling of Thousand Needles had Lord Stormherd seen such eagerness for battle.
Tonight, he would quench their thirst for warfare.
At the cost of one of their own, who was slain unjustly, by the Kaldorei Sentinels, the Primal Spirits of Un'Goro had given Mato and his people the opportunity to spread their message into lands far and wide. Mato mourned the loss of his kinsman. Bosem'bok was one of the Savage Lord's most trusted and loyal of servants. Now, he was gone and his remains claimed, in ceremony, by the hungry flames of Fire Plume Ridge. Now, within Mato's heart, that once held a spot for his deceased kin, was the overwhelming desire for revenge. A revenge that may very well lead him to his undoing. These doubt, inspired by the dreams of his mate, were not, however, afforded any lasting presence within his mind.
Feralas would be first of many, the Savage Lord told his kin. The first, he promised, to be confiscated from Alliance influence. To be freed from the corrupting influence of the Kaldorei and the Highborn responsible for once tearing their world apart.
As his kin reveled in his words with loud, uproarious howls and cheers, Mato's mind reflected back to the very words which have inspired him since the start of his campaign:
Your greatest moment has yet to come...
Mato agreed. However, much like Feralas, the great tauren hunter knew that this was only be the beginning... and for every great moment he accomplished, he would see that the next would be even greater.
Kailina woke up with a start.
"That was an odd dream," she commented to herself. She had a dream where she was a savage troll druid living in Un'goro. She was a fierce fighter, able to turn herself into fantastic animal forms to come to the aid of her clanmates.
She smiled as she laid back down. "Perhaps I will be able to visit this dream again..."
EDIT: BUMP!!!! XD Cause apparently I can't pay attention to what toon I'm posting with.
Edited by Kailina on 5/16/2012 8:05 PM PDT
Well, of course we're the cutest couple!
In fact, we are the GREATEST tauren couple on the SERVER. Sure, we make it look easy, but it takes a lot of work being the best. Then again, we do have an unfair advantage over the competition.
I mean, look at us? How could any one possibly rival our awesomeness?
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