Tauren Tale

Chapter 1: To the Rescue

“Ah, there's one,” Sanja said. She knelt in the long grass and removed the small trowel from her backpack. The tool had been carved from a stag's antler, and was well-suited to digging in Mulgore's rich soil.

Her little brother bent over the tuber as she cleared away the dirt. “Karras root? Bleah!”

Jorga groaned and put his hands around his furry neck. He made a face as if he'd been stricken with Plague. “I hate karras root. Just leave it there.”

“You do, huh? But you like the bread Mom bakes, don't you?”

She looked up and their wide, black noses almost touched. He wasn't a bad-looking kid – when he wasn't covered in grime, at least. Bright-blue eyes sparkled from his black face like inquisitive little birds in a cave. A pure white splotch on his forehead stretched from one little horn to the other, and his fuzzy ears laid out to the sides, taking in her every word.

Jorga nodded without blinking. His nostrils flared a bit at the strong scent of karras root.

“Well, what do you think bread is made from?” Sanja went back to digging. “First we bury the roots in the coals of a fire, and we let them bake for a while. That softens the pulp and takes away some of the bitterness. Then we dig them out and wash them, and then we pound them into a paste with a wooden pestle...”

Sanja grabbed the root with both of her muscular hands and yanked it free. She looked back up, but the boy was gone. The brief moment of sibling bonding had passed as suddenly as it had come.

Jorga was exploring the grasslands. She could see only his short, fluffy tail sticking up above the tall grass. She watched it dart this way and that.

The Tauren girl sighed as she dropped the root and trowel into her pack. There was no point in being frustrated. Just because she enjoyed cooking and herbalism, there was no reason to think that he could appreciate them.

“I caught a toad!” Jorga declared. He returned triumphantly and shoved the warty creature in Sanja's face. “He's cool, huh?”

She stood back up and swung the pack over her left shoulder. “Whatever you say, kid.”

“Well, I'm keeping him!” Jorga inspected the creature closely before shoving him unceremoniously in his pocket. “I think I'll name him Thurg.”

“Oh, I see,” Sanja said thoughtfully.

Thurg was the name of an Orcish trapper who had lived with their tribe earlier that summer. Most of the boys had thought that the Orc was the greatest guy ever. They helped polish his rifle and were fascinated by his steel snares and traps. But despite the boys' approval, Sanja just didn't care for the man.

During his stay, Sanja had grown quite close to the trapper's slave girl, Elizabeth. The human woman was weak and frail, but she was a quiet, thoughtful person. She was quick to help others and could be persuaded to share fascinating stories of her travels.

Thurg treated Elizabeth well enough – for a slave. He fed and clothed her, and he seldom beat her, but their relationship never did sit well with Sanja.

The Tauren occasionally took slaves after defeating another tribe in battle, but Thurg had never even seen Elizabeth's village, much less helped conquer it.

Thurg had purchased the girl from a Goblin in Ratchet for a pocketful of coins. The Goblins hadn't conquered Elizabeth's village either. They had merely purchased their slaves from the pirates who had raided a ship she had sailed on.

Although Sanja didn't say it out loud, none of this buying and selling of people seemed particularly honorable – especially for an Orc.

Everyone knows that Orcs treasure their honor in much the same way that the Tauren do. If nothing else, that was the reason their two peoples got along so well.