Tawa'po looks past Malar to another Tauren on his right as he cuts through another of the foul Quillboar that encroaches on his homeland. Compared to his lighter, tan companion, Tawa'po's muscles brim with strength through his dark coat of thick fur. His horns are shined and free of blood, despite its presence over the rest of his body.
"Does your battle go well over there, Brightmane?" he calls across the field. He can see her battling with ferocity almost equal to his own. The squeal of another pig as it begins an incantation to his left rises over her response, but the geomancer's spell is interrupted when the mighty warrior stomps over and backhands it with enough force to spray blood from its snout. He grabs the spellcaster by the throat and slams it to the ground, bringing his axe down to end the wretched creature's time among the living.
"You waste your time, Tawa'po," says his comrade as he kicks another of the Quillboar from his own weapon. "She will not find your arrogance as flattering as the others."
With a smirk, Tawa'po turns from his friend and begins walking toward the warrior, Aponi. When he reaches her, he stops for a moment and admires the powerful woman before him. "I couldn't hear your answer over the din."
His beautiful ally lifts her large mace over an otherwise delicate shoulder and looks up to meet his eye, "I said it goes as well as your own, Ragetotem. Now, let's get back to this, I want to be home before sundown. Besides, aren't you leaving for Orgrimmar in the morning?"
She points over his shoulder and Tawa'po turns to slam his deep black fist into an incoming Quillboar's flank. The creature's charge is halted as the air is knocked out of it, and it falls to the ground clutching its belly.
Ignoring the beast again, he faces her with another strong smile, "Yes, there is talk that the Scourge continue to bolster their forces. If there is truth in the rumors, the strongest warriors from all of the Horde will likely be called upon to stop them once and for all. I, we, could be needed to travel away from here.”
He watches her for a reaction to this news, but she gives away nothing of her thoughts on the prospect, so he continues, “Speaking of Orgrimmar, I could use some company during the trip, Aponi. The Orcs' Warchief has a new advisor. I hear he is one of the strongest of their kind. If I'm lucky, he will give me an opportunity to prove my worth to him. You would look good there at my side."
She gives him a confusing look, something resembling a cross between frustration and pity, "No, I don't think I will go, if only to avoid looking good at your side. I will stand for myself, thank you."
His smile falters, and he reaches to hold her in his gentle but firm grasp for a moment, "That is disappointing to hear, Aponi. There are others who would wish for such an opportunity."
She pulls away, "Then let them join you. My place is where the Earthmother sends me, protecting our people. For now, that place is here."
He turns from her, hurt and angry, though he wishes not to show the woman how he feels about her reaction, "Fine, then I will prove myself to you as well. I will be stronger. So strong that you will want to be with me."
To lend credence to his point, Tawa'po slams his hoof down upon the Quillboar he incapacitated moments before. The blow crushes its skull with a sickening, wet crack. Sated, the warrior stalks off back toward where Malar continues to battle the swine.
Orgrimmar is large, Tawa'po realizes. Larger even than Thunderbluff. The Orcs have done much with the wasteland of Durotar. Their Warchief, Thrall, is a proud shaman, and for good reason according to others Tawa’po has spoken to. The Orc leader's new advisor is a brown skinned warrior by the name of Garrosh. Tawa'po didn’t know the race as any color other than green, so this Orc's skin comes as a surprise at first. Asking around, the Tauren learns that Garrosh Hellscream is a true-blooded Orc from beyond the Dark Portal, free of the bloodlust that ruled the horde before Thrall took over.
“Surely the Orcs, and the Horde as a whole, would do well to have a strong, pure leader, then,” Tawa’po comments to another onlooker as the Warchief, Hellscream, and Lady Sylvanas Windrunner of the Forsaken discuss the Horde’s plans to travel into Northrend. The Orc pays his comment no mind, as the conversation before them begins to heat up.