Maw

**King "Maw" Wildmane** is a male tauren druid and mercenary, given the name Maw by friend and foe alike due to his violent nature and man-eating tendencies. He has recently left his birthplace in Dustwallow Marsh to travel back to his extended kin in Mulgore.

## Biographical Information

### Residence

Throughout Dustwallow Marsh; currently lodging at Camp Narache in Mulgore

## Physical Description

### Hair color

Sand coloured fur with an umber mane reminiscent of a dark swamp

## History

Born into the Wildmane tribe, Maw and his family left the tribe when they migrated southward, opting to continue their struggle with the centaur bands that had overtaken their ancestral home. After a decade of struggle and guerilla conflict against the centaur and the Kul Tiran colonists, Maw became the sole survivor of his family when they were caught unaware by black dragons. Without an ally left in the world and his home in ruin, Maw was given an ultimatum: join the Horde or be overwhelmed by the enemies that surrounded him. Maw begrudgingly rejoined his kin who had abandoned his family and their home, furthering his instruction in the most primal forms of druidism. But his resentment for the cowardly Wildmane and the self righteous Bloodhoof was never far beneath the surface. He would use them, and their Horde, as a means to an end.

Maw's resolve to rid Dustwallow Marsh from invaders was stronger than ever. Between the beast race interlopers, Alliance scum, and the dark presence that permeated from the southern marshes, Maw knew had a lot of work to do. To Maw, the invaders and colonists' were trespassing on land that wasn't theirs. Further, his new Horde allies could not be trusted to defend it; not while his craven brethren filled its ranks. Thus, Maw's claim was the only legitimate one to this land, and he was the only one who he could trust to be its master. After loudly proclaiming himself the true king of the marshes, he set off for Camp Narache to begin his training.

## Appearance

Even by Tauren standards, Maw was an imposing figure. He has a long, braided beard that hangs well below his waist and his horns curve over his like scimitars. Unlike many warriors of his people, Maw wears little armor and combat and keeps himself slim.

While transformed, Maw's feature become far more savage. His eyes glow a bright crimson and his jaws reveal the great maw for which he made his name.

## Personality

Maw is brutal and cunning. This is most apparent in his fighting habits; he is known to stalk prey for days before viciously attacking when his victim is most vulnerable. His early life was hard and marred by constant fighting and harsh training. He was robbed of what common races would expect a childhood to be. Maw recognizes that his life and lives that were taken by his family were indirectly caused by the "cowardice" of his fellow tauren, especially the Wildmane and Bloodhoof clans. He is especially critical and even aggressive towards members of these clans.

Maw is not unfeeling. He takes great pride in his ability and can admire the skill of others in combat. He also cherishes the wonders of nature, as they remind him of his parents who instilled this respect in him from an early age.

## Early life

King was born during the turbulent period following the orcish Horde’s invasion of Azeroth. At the time, the tauren were at war with their bitter, existential enemies: the centaurs. The conflict, which saw the scattered tauren tribes hunted for sport by their more united adversaries for many years, lead to a migration of several tribes away from their ancestral homes in central Kalimdor. The Wildmanes, who were known amongst the tauren for their skill as flight masters, leatherworkers, and primitive druidism, moved as far south as Tanaris to evade the centaur threat, though smaller contingents were known to break off and settle along the way.

One such splinter group were King’s parents and elder siblings, who rejected the tribe’s decision to flee so far away from their ancestral home, despite having little recourse besides. Obstinate, King’s family opted to move into the dark swamps of Dustwallow Marsh. The marshes provided cover for the family to hunt and practice many of their tribe’s traditions unimpeded. While his father shirked the elders’ wishes for him to become a flight master in favour of becoming a warrior, King’s mother was a prominent leatherworker within the tribe and passed down the Wildmane traditions to her children. King was taught from a young age the importance of nature to the tauren, especially in the perilous times they found themselves in. She instilled a respect for the primordial world that was absent in her musings concerning her craven sisters who had travelled south with the rest of the Wildmane, or the pacifist Bloodhoof to the north.

King was holding a skinning blade before he saw the first signs of the horns beneath his brow; by adolescence, he was able to harvest and entire marsh crocolisk by lunch, and have them hide fashioned into spaulders before sundown. King’s work was rough, but he cherished the lessons his mother passed down and the opportunity to be so close with the natural world he had come to admire so. It kept his body and mind from idle, and offered a reprieve from the violence that surrounded him now.

Despite being little more than a calf at the time, King was forced to face his brothers and sisters in hand to hand combat while his parents looked on. While he was left bruised and bloodied by his older siblings at first, the brutal trials meant the young bull had to quickly adapt or find himself face down in the muck. King, to his parent’s delight, was becoming the opportunistic fighter they needed him to be. While still much weaker in terms of brawn, King learned to make use of his horns, claws, teeth, and knife to his advantage. He had it drilled in his head that the only way to succeed in a world that could kill you if you faced it head on was to have a keen eye for weakness, and exploit it as much as possible.

Over the next few years, King’s father would lead his children through the night out of the swamps and into the barren home that was once theirs. The centaur camps were often chaotic as they danced through the night by firelight; a perfect opportunity to strike for the bull and his insurgent force. Should one of their ilk stray too far from the revelry, it took only an instant for one of the Wildmane to dispatch the horseman and hide the body from view. Where young King’s adolescent build put him at a disadvantage in a fair fight, his leaner build allowed him to move more quietly than even his father. Although his smaller form and quiet step allowed King the first opportunity to strike the unsuspecting stragglers on numerous occasions, the first time was his most memorable. He watch from only a few feet away as the unsuspecting marauder drank and shouted into the dark night. Across his chest, he wore the remains of many tauren killed in battle.