A city dug in between the mountains and situated like a bowl, Orgrimmar was a fierce and imposing sight. One could tell just by looking at it that it's inhabitants were brutal creatures. The city was rebuilt after it caught fire and burned to the ground, but it's new incarnation was a vast improvement upon the old. The fortress was obviously built with defense in mind. It's walls were covered and plated with saronite. Huge spikes thrust out of it's foundations and guards patrolled it's streets for any stupid enough to break it's laws. It's inhabitants were a mirror image of the cities design. The race who comprised most of the city were fierce fighters, bent on honor and battle. This city belonged to the Orcs, green skinned creatures which towered over the average human. The Orcs were a warrior society, they reveled in the lust of battle and the thought of annihilating their enemies.
It was through this very city that Magulotah rode through, glancing nervously around atop his kodo which was a size too small for him. This was his first time exploring the city after it had been rebuilt. He had no idea where to go and he lacked the courage to ask one of the green-skinned brutes who kept guard over the city. Instead he rode around through various alleyways and streets until he stumbled upon a section of the city which looked even more fierce than the rest of it. Surely this had to be the Warrior's section of the city. Riding forward, he eventually stumbled upon a slim yet muscular Orc woman barking at another Orc, a male one almost as big as he was. Magulotah was a large Tauren if there ever was one. He hulked over most other Tauren and his fur was a coarse brown color similar to that of grass in the winter time. His muscles were large, as most Tauren's were, but he was a Warrior while most of the others of his race were pacifists. He trained regularly and his body could easily squeeze in three or for Elven women if he were hollow as a box was. His large form failed to betray the fact that he was as gentle as the clouds beating along your back on a windy afternoon. He became a warrior because he was not gifted with the use of magic and he wasn't stealthy enough to become a hunter or part of the specialized group of Tauren rogues created by Cairne Bloodhoof to help against the Quilboar. Indeed, his only option was to become a warrior. He didn't like fighting or war, but it was the best he could do.
The Orc woman had finished shouting at the other Orc and was know turning to him. Sweat trickled down her strong angular face while her mouth simultaneously curled into a smirk as she addressed him.
"Maggot! I thought you were dead!"
"No, fortunately not Dalga. The Earth Mother seems to be content on allowing me to live for the time being... And my name is Magulotah," he replied, his tone calm and non-threatening. Dalga was a short tempered woman and was also a trainer for warriors. Her personality and rude disposition often got herself into fights with trainees. She almost always won.
"Ha! Fortunately my ass, you would better serve the Horde dead than alive. At least dead you could provide us with a hearty supply of meat."
Magulotah shifted atop his kodo, disallowing any anger her comments had made to manifest themselves within him.
"Be that as it may Dalga, I have finished your task."
"Oh really? Well then I should like to have proof of your 'heroic deeds,'" she said, green hands forming triangles upon her green hips.
"Of course," he replied, fishing out two large tusks from his bag and tentatively handing them to the fierce orcess.
Dalga held them up and examined them for several moments.
"No blood on them?"
"I snuck up on him."
"Figures. I would expect nothing less from a cowering gutless calf such as yourself."
Magulotah's nostrils flared. "I did as you asked," he repeated.
"And I suppose you want a reward maggot?" She asked, turning towards a pile of junk and treasures and bending over. The tight fabric of her pants stretched over her taut ass, outlining and highlighting it.