Bamm Ironspark

**Bamm Ironspark** is a young orc engineer of weaponry located in Orgrimmar. He acts as an item repairer, robot dog and laser weapon seller. Bamm also knows the story of establishing the orcish clan Red Blade Clan, and the Proxima Centauri's New Draenor warchief's history.

## Story

### Beginning

Born at sea to a loving pirate mother and a recently found travelling orcish scholar. At an early age had strong love of engineering tinkering near as soon as he could walk, he mother saw potential in him so apprenticed him to a skilled goblin engineer Gearoid Durashaft, who worked for various cartels. Has had a very happy life. His magnum opus is his best pal Boomer a near sentient Robotic Dog companion, he built himself and all his energy is working towards giving Boomer True sentience and free will. He recently discovered his father an Arkail Blastblade felt Bamm could do with some orcish culture having no real education in such matters, Bamm sought his father's clan The red blade and he is really enjoying his time with them, they are all so nice, friendly and welcoming, everyday he learns more and more about orc life, has even been given a wolf of his own to ride Ripmaw who is a very good girl.

A storm raged though booty bay almost typhoon level of wind and rain battered the small coastal port, lightning cracked the sky illuminating a small hut high in the scaffolded dwellings a hastily repaired roof, machinery parts strewn about the roof and leaning against walls.

*"BOOOM!!!"*

A crash of a door, one repaired one too many times flung open and off its hinges, flat into a wall opposite, it creaked and slid down till it clattered against the floor, A mechanical blurr burst though, its metal claws struggling to find purchase upon the ground, it slammed into the same wall that door had just done and howled a happy mechanical wail, spinning on the spot off into a burnt, chewed and heavily damaged corner of the hut and curled up to chew on some rebar, then followed by a equally eager if somewhat soaking wet young orc, nearly loosing his footing as he too barrelled in, spinning on his heel and happily yelling a loud sound of mirth and joy.

### Keeping the faith

Bamm had adjusted to his surroundings like he always did his mothers’s words in his head always ringing in his head.

*“Dangit son with a good positive attitude nothing is impossible hope is best dang weapon we ever discovered I tell you what and will be strongest thing you ever forge”.*

He awoke much the same as he had the last few days a single thought in his head. Hope.

He had noticed others in the camp where struggling especially those with spiritual inclinations or strong hopes for the perception of the afterlife. Bamm had reminded those that this was only one realm of possibility the big horned fella Sagewind had mentioned that and seemed genuine and those that where here wanted to be regardless of what side of what seemed to be an eternal civil war of death rebirth and conflict, he didn’t care much much it but tried to see what those that would find enjoyment in this place point of view.

He handed given his rations freely cracked jokes smiled and as always was hopeful, he had crafted a banner bearing the red blade sigil to remind those why they where here and who they where. He hoped it helped. He set out for a new morning in this place to see what was happening.

He sauntered about the camp a happy dance to his step a happy song in his heart and mind Boomer followed it he swaying to the beat, he waved at a same creature chopping up parts who disregarded him for the most part “Choppa choppa?” The creature screeched at Bamm returned the greeting “Choppa choppa fella” with a wink and fingergun click. The creature look profoundly puzzled and returned to his work. He passed some red blade around the fire all peering silently into it and heart almost sank he waved howdy and loud happy “MOK’RA YA’LL!!”.

Most gave him half smiles and a wave as he passed. They where good folk like that. He had to do something to cheer em up it was then he remember his early years at Sea with his mother and the songs the crew would sing in rough weather to boost their spirits. He began to try and hum one, maybe he could sing it for them! That's it a song! He thought. Music is food for the soul and what better place to do that in a world of souls! He let out a loud "HOOOOO’HAAAAA!" and jumped for the joy upper cutting the air and caused several of the scavenging creatures to scurry and flee. A song wouldnt be a enough he would need a instrument! But what could he play well and what could he create in this place. He rushed over to now vacant scavenger table and began creating a blueprint in his head as hands crafted a stringed instrument there was thin strings a long thin bone for a neck and a round flat piece of bone he stretched a thin piece of leathery skin over it, gluing it together inspiration taking him over he didn’t notice time passing was it an hour maybe four of five he knew not or cared. He had yet to meet a person not cheer by a song accompanied by a banjo!

He twanged and tuned the instrument and tried to think of a good song he knew well about lost love, hope despite everything. He wandered up to lonely outcropping of bone and sat down, patted Boomer on his head, looking out over the wastes of Maldraxxus, he cleared his throat closed his eye smiled and  he began to sing and play and old song.

### Bamm of the Hill

Bamm was racing Boomer around Razorhill as the sun set, a wide grin on his face he was winning.  Boomer let out a happy mechanical bark and then engaged his turbo and sped past Bamm to Bamm’s loud infuriated laughter.

*“ Dang it Boomer hahahah you scamp that’s cheating!!!”*

Bamm was secretly proud Boomer’s ability to use abilities without prompt was getting stronger, his instinct programming was getting more mailable and more creative, Boomer didn’t engage his turbo till the last hundred meters. He hollered loudly and cheered at Boomer patting and making a fuss of his to Boomer’s happy delight he span on the spot and let out another happy bark.

Bamm thought dwelled on his friends in Northrend he hoped they would be ok. Verzan’s and Throatrender's patronizing comments affected him, “Protect the hill?” Why did they always speak to him like a peon, he’d never bring it up, he would never hurt his friends feelings but he wasn’t a peon his eyes focused on Boomer as the mechanodog stalked a lizard then ignited it with his flamethrower, Bamm chuckled. A peon couldn’t create that, he was so close to creating life, real life, mechanical life that didn’t act on command but instinct. The complex math, science and engineering he put into Boomer his blood sweat and tears. Was it because he refused to be sad or dour like the others? Was it his love of life mistaken for stupidity.

No he thought. He refused to change if they saw him as stupid he would let them, he would care for them regardless, he would never be, moody, dour, angry or angsty.

His Momma always said you get back what you put into the world  and then something about hydras being angry because they got all them teeth and no toothbrush and that made him laugh out loud for quite a while. A Razorhill guard peered at him as he walked past and slightly recoiled confused. Bamm returned to his camp at first whistling a happy if somewhat off key tune, He wanted to be happy so he would be happy, Boomer bounced a ran around his feet, Bamm did a few happy steps of a dance backwards and forth and span on the spot clapping his hands and then breaking into a ditty of a song about goblin with large assets as he used a wrench as a microphone.

There was explosives to create, if these undead attack Razorhill again. He would tear them to pieces with explosive force, shrapnel, fire and Boomer.