Vor'wati

Vor'wati's rather self-flattering sketch of himself guarding livestock.

Wakja'wati - Uncle

Wati's Roast Raptor

**Vor'wati** is a Darkspear Troll, heir to the failed Wati Family Raptor Farm. Following the teachings left behind by his late uncle Wakja'wati, he strives to find purpose and pride in the somewhat unorthodox teachings of a stubborn old cannibal. Determined, hungry, and somewhat empty-headed, Vor'wati promises to catalogue the many flavors of Azeroth, no matter how many legs it walks upon, or what tongue it chooses to beg for mercy.

## Early Years

Vor'wati was born into the sweating tropical jungle dotting the far end of the Darkspear Islands. Soon after, his sister Va'wati was born in turn - taking their mother in the process. Devastated, their father Kej'wati begrudgingly sought the help of his estranged brother, Wakja'wati - a prideful and bizarre witch doctor with a compulsion for cannibalism. Together, the two raised the siblings to hunt and gather the life around them, and for a time, Kej'wati felt his family had become whole once more.

However, in the daily trials of hunting, it was often Wakja'wati who volunteered to accompany the young Vor'wati. Once hidden behind the wild curtains of fronds and bark, Wakja often led Vor'wati to the dangerous outskirts of murloc camps, or to the paltry campsites of marooned sailors and explorers consumed by wanderlust. There Wakja taught Vor'wati how to kill, butcher and prepare such creatures, followed by lessons in using the spoils for food, handiwork, and bloodied rituals to the Loa.

Unfortunately for the young Vor'wati, these lessons only proved to estrange him from the locals who shared their island home. Children often befriended his sister over him, citing strange fascinations with ancient and taboo subjects. Vor'wati found himself spending more and more time alone, honing his skills with the bow, and devoting himself to learning more about his father's profession of raising livestock, cooking, and preparing wild game. All the while, Wakja'wati continued to hunt alongside Vor'wati, and routinely luring him out to hunt much more expressive targets.

## The Exodus of the Darkspear

As the typhoons of the Great Sea set in for the 18th year of Vor'wati's life, the entire Wati family took to the sea with their neighbors to converge upon the central Darkspear Islands. Murloc raids were becoming more frequent, and the encircling tropical storms would only give the invaders a chance to wipe them out entirely.

During the daily travels across the small shores, Vor'wati finally unleashed the growing resentment he held towards Wakja'wati. Within fifteen years, his gruesome rituals and practices had done nothing but left Vor'wati an outcast from not only his neighbors, but his sister and father as well. After a heated exchange of words, Wakja'wati dismissed Vor'wati as a failed student, and vowed to distance himself from him and his family for good. Speaking of a human settlement ripe with the dead, Wakja sailed off by his lonesome ahead of the group. Hastily, the trolls continued onward, determined to beat the downpour approaching the central islands.

It was amidst the storm that Vor'wati witnessed the coming of the Sea Witch, and the desperate fleeing of his people from the erupting island home. As the strange green men worked to repair their boats, he watched his people fight off the droves of creatures he had once killed for his uncle's strange rituals. Seeing such ferocity and chaos somewhat calmed Vor'wati, feeling that his uncle's odd brutality towards the murlocs and humans was justified. And yet, seeking his uncle amidst the survivors, he was nowhere to be found. As the ocean thundered beneath the boats, and catastrophic skies grew ever darker, Vor'wati knew Wakja'wati was never to be seen again.

## Restless Ranchers

Vor'wati had never felt so alone among those closest to him. In the time following the landing upon Durotar, the Wati family found themselves hunting and 'raising' raptors on the border of the Barrens, which felt more-so a struggle to congregate breeding raptors close to their butchery. The family grew estranged even from the Darkspear - cooking and selling a creature as respected as a raptor may be a favorite for Orcs, but caught the ire of many former friends.

Kej'wati grew fond of driving his frustration directly at Vor'wati's pride. He often called Vor'wati 'Wakja' mockingly, jesting at how if it were up to Vor'wati, the butchery would probably sell the meat off his father's back. The two grew increasingly hostile towards one another as profits declined. Va'wati, unable to mend their bitter feuds, left to Orgrimmar to find her own way. Nights ended in throwing furniture and butcher knives, and hunts ended in many 'accidental arrows shot close enough to feel the wind trailing behind it.

And then, after months of struggle, Vor'wati awoke to nothing. An empty hut, an empty bed, and an old, ancient book were all there was left. Upon the book rested a crumpled letter, which read aloud,

*"Vor'wati,*

*I know you be needin' dis more den I ever will.*

*Seek sometin' better den what I could give ya,*

*an' do what I know you always be wantin' to do.*

*Just don' be tellin' nobody. Evah."*

Within the book that lay in the dust, was the life's work of Wakja'wati. Details of rituals, recipes, potions and dances filled every corner of the rotten old pages. Filing through, Vor'wati noticed the book abruptly stopped half-way in. The last recorded page seemed to be written hastily, and the ink swept about the page as if it were written in the rain.

*"Vor'wati! Ya prob'y know by now ya faddah issa TERRIBLE cook! But don't ya be worryin' ya coconut-head. Wakja gonna be teachin' ya from beyond da grave now. I can't resist a well-cooked haunch-a-human, ya know. Besides, dere ain't no place fo' me 'cross da sea. It be fair me life be endin' on de Islands.*

*Ya be destined fo' sometin' much greater den some ol' farm. You wanna be sometin'? You wanna be a LEGEND? Ya wanna get'cha faddah an' sistah back to ya? Follow me book. We gon' be learnin' what ya ancestahs did. I know de key to dis be in de flesh of sometin' dat live far away. Find it, Vor'wati. Cook 'em all if ya needs to. Ya gonna find sometin' dat tastes bettah den a murloc. I jus' know it.*

*NOW GO VOR'WATI! FOR OL' WAKJA!"*

Vor'wati felt haunted. No, perhaps it was disgrace. His uncle could read his future like some soothsayer, not because he was, but because the Watis were so damn predictable. As the dust flickered in the silence, Vor'wati gathered his bow and his few belongings without a sound. Looking across the Southfury, he knew the Horde would find a place for him in their world. It was time to train. It was time to fight. It was time to eat.