Blood Elf Monarch

The Chaotic Plains were a broad expanse of flatlands, with a large portion of it covered in prairies, steppes, and grasslands. It barely had any tall trees and the only sources of water were limited to small streams and rivers, but what it lacked in ecosystemic variety was made up for with the presence of dozens of different species of creatures.

Among one of the species that were seen most often were the dozers. They were large, furry animals twice the size of man that ran through the plains in large packs.

Ground tremors were considered to be one of the main indicators of a dozer horde passing through.

In the distance, a shrill call reverberated throughout the wide expanse of grass. 

"Chiwwwkikkk!!"

A group of orcs ran through the plains with the dozers in their sights, prepared to hunt them down. A warrior went forward in an attempt to distract the horde, while another ran ahead and used the spear to pierce through one of the buffalo-like creatures. But the creatures were strong, and as they thrashed around violently, they were able to throw the orcs off of their bodies, sending them flying across the plains. 

But one young orc warrior courageously jumped at one of the dozers, grabbing its neck, hold it thigh and breaking it apart with his bare hands. 

"Chiwwikk! Lok'Tar! Gol Kosh!" He roared valiantly. 

Although young, he was one of the tribe's strongest warriors, only second to their chief. He had been hunting and fighting his whole life, hoping that one day he would be able to gain his chance to evolve into a champion, and finally attaining the honor of having a name of his own. 

The hunting group of 10 would continue until all of them each had a dozer perched on each of their backs. These 10 carcasses would be able to feed the entirety of the tribe for a few days; the sheer size of the beasts would be enough to feed the average person for over a week, but the orcs had an immensely large appetite. When there were no dozers passing their camp, they would go after the desert wolves, lizards, and sometimes even desert spiders when they got really desperate.

Typically, all of these monstrous creatures were considered extremely strong and resilient, not being easy prey to hunt. But not for these orcs. This was the reason why the orcs were able to survive and thrive in these Chaotic Plains.

The hunting pack returned to their campsite proudly toting the prizes from their hunt on their backs, thinking about all the grilled meat they would be able to have tonight. But as they gradually neared the campgrounds, they could see a steady stream of smoke rising to the sky.

"Lok Barash! Chiiwikk!!'

Knowing that danger was close by, they immediately dropped all of their game at once, running quickly towards the camp only to find that their tribe was currently under attack by a group of grey skinned orcs. Despite the fact that they knew they were outnumbered, these orc warriors refused to just run away and flee for their lives; they all decided to jump in and join the fight.

The young orc, who was considered the strongest among them, was surprised to find he was unable to best their opponents in a fight. He struggled through the campgrounds that had now turned into a blood battlefield, trying as hard as he could to take at least one of them down, only to finally get tackled to the ground by one of the grey skins.

There was simply no way that he could win; his tribe had no more than 50 strong warriors. The others were mere gretchins. Meanwhile, the opponents had at least ten times their numbers, and he realized now that even him, the strongest among them, was unable to defeat even one of their tribe.

Instantly, the whole tribe was defeated, all of them being overpowered by the grey creatures.

When the battle had concluded, the young orc was surprised to see that the chief of these grey creatures was an orc just like him.

The next thing he knew, the leader of the grey skinned orcs was proposed a challenge; he was requested to duel with the young orc's chief. He accepted, and the young orc's chief was hungry to regain the honor he believed his tribe had just lost, but the fight ended quickly. After a few exchanges of moves, his chief was defeated.

"Trk'hsk! LakTuk! Chwikkk!"

Surrender and join his tribe. That was what the grey skinned leader said to him. He stated how his chief was a warrior much stronger than he was, and what an honor it would be to join the Blood warrior tribe. 

The young warrior was honestly enticed by this proposal, but he and the whole tribe never had any desire to join the bigger tribes as a whole. After all, they always considered themselves to be simple hunters. 

The chief refused the offer, and for that, they executed the chief right away. There was no honor greater than to die by the blade, hence the reason why none of the orcs would cry over such death.

Despite the fact that the rest of the warriors expected to be executed, to their complete shock, the grey skins decided to release them all. As a result, most of them stood around, clueless as to what they should do next. 

Now that they no longer had a chief above them, the Orc Champion that hailed from the Blood Warrior Tribe gave them two choices. To join his tribe, or to go and find another tribe.

It didn't take long before many would join them, in respect to the winner's powers, but the young warrior refused. Instead of bending under the hands of those who killed his brethren, he believed that he was extremely close to evolving into a champion himself, so the honorable thing to do was to one day return and challenge that champion once again when he was ready.

With this newfound determination that blazed fiercely within him, the young warrior was told to head east, as all the western regions of the Plains now belonged to the Blood Warrior Tribe. With that, he started his journey to the east.