Grokale the Tracker
A skilled marksman and oddly social-able orc, the hunter that likes to be called simply “Grok” was never always so charming. Stories go that he was found out in the wild of the Wetlands, a mere child starving and alone feasting on rabbits and deer. Even Grok does not recall much of that time in his youth, only the vaguest memories of his mother straddling a large serpent, and a hazy image of her burying a curved axe that once belonged to his father.
“When I entered the camps I knew very little of my peoples customs, and even less about how to interact with them. It was by luck that I was taken in by a small group lead by Greatmother Darksoul. I would often play with her daughters in the courtyard, using a sling to hurl small pebbles at the furious guards. Good times indeed. As I grew older, things became… complicated among myself and her daughters… and by the time the Warchief liberated us, I couldn’t even look my adopted family in the eye.”
Grok was quick to join the exodus from the shores of the east, landing on the fabled lands of Kalimdor. Though he helped during the war with the Burning Legion, once the threat was subdued he didn’t stick around long. Years of being cramped up in a camp had a way of inciting a powerful wanderlust, and Grok was quick to leave for the wilds.
“I trained in the Valley of Trials for a short time, perfecting my ability to hunt and tame many beasts. I felt my confidence grow, and as I left the valley I met and became close with a young troll woman. It was one of the few times I once again let down my guard, and I watched as it once again turned to ash around me. I was exiled from her village, and swore to myself I wouldn’t get enamored ever again. “
Thus his adventures began. From navigating the sands of Tanaris, to collecting his fathers axe on the eastern cliffs of Loch Modan, he became known as a talented tracker with a smooth personality that made him oddly alluring to many of the women around him. Over the years, he even made amends with the adopted family he left behind, though they endeavor to keep their feelings more casual. He even had made friends among the Alliance, though he has to keep those relations on the down low.
“I never blamed the humans for keeping my people in the camps. I was told the stories. I experienced the fire that burns in my heart. I never liked it, but I never blamed them. This feeling I find extends to most of the Alliance, especially the Draenei. In recent months my trip back trough time has only reaffirmed that my people have a long way to go if we are ever going to move on from our sins.”
As for his eyepatch, well, you may have to learn that story another day.
An orcish hunter of honor and charm, he finds himself walking the line between loyalty to his faction and loyalty to his friends.