As requested by Alunaria, we’re about to tell you one of our taming adventures. Take a seat and turn on your second degree because the story that follows is filled with danger and heroism, but it also may or may not have happened exactly the way we tell it.
Most people know me for my natural charm and my magnificent muscled body. But what trully makes me the awesome Orc that I am, comes from my courage, my intelligence and my exceptional strength.
When, like me, you’re a natural hero, the challenges of the normal life may not be enough. I mean, come on, any hero already rescued Azeroth several times, it became trivial to me.
One of the reasons why I became a hunter is to tame beasts. What possibly could be more challenging then facing fierce creatures without your weapons, as equals?
Today, my thirst for danger is leading me to the Eye of Azshara. I’ve obtained from a very reliable source that a fierce beast, half lion half hawk, has made its lair on the southern part of the island.
I first carefully prepare my backpack with all the necessary equipment. You see, the secret of a sucessful taming trip lies within the preparation. After having double checked everything, I sneak out of the hut. Soforah, as usual, is still asleep… I jump on the back of my mount, direction The Broken Isles.
I land close to the entry of the cave. From now on, I must be extra careful, any wrong move could lead me to my death. The challenge has begon and my instincts have kicked in. I check the direction of the wind and I mask my scent, I don’t want the beast to detect my presence. I walk close to the walls, very slowly, almost motionless.
I see the animal and I realise that it’s probably the most dangerous one I’ve ever faced. I keep in the shadow, watching its every move. The plan is forming in my head, I’ll have to jump on it from above and maintain it to the ground. If I give it a chance to open its gigantic wings, I’ll be dead under its sharp talons.
The time for action has come and jump as high as I can. I’m probably ten meters above the ground when I let myself fall on the beast’s back. I try to keep away from its head, I don’t want to give it the opportunity to bite me. The beast is angry and tries to turn, but I manage to stay on top. Unfortunately, I slip on the feathers. Even if I quickly manage to get back in position, the creature is fast and it has the time to bite my left boot. I feel the pain and the warm blood leaking off my foot but I don’t have the time to think about it. I mentally supress the pain and double the strenght of my grip.
After what felt like hours, the beast starts to tire and, suddenly, it gives up. I roll on the floor and I take a few minutes to recover. When I finally get back up, all I can see in its eyes is respect. That beast will follow me anywhere and it will defend me until its last breath. A bond has been created.
After limping back to my Wind Rider, I head back home. Tonight I’ll celebrate another victory and I will probably be the admiration of the entire Durotar.
As usual, when Sardoken finally decides to get out of bed, half the day has already passed… It’s been pretty quiet lately and that is what scares me the most. No hut on fire, no broken bones and no jailtime yet… Or my man is finally calming down, or the next catastrophy is about to happen. Knowing him, I would bet on the latter.
After the breakfast, I see him gathering a few things from around the place. He’s still very silent, he only had his third cup of coffee. When he’s not watching, I quickly check the content of his bag: A bottle of Dwarven Ale, a piece of stinky cheese and a steamy romance novel. Oh my, it must be quiet the expedition he’s up to. When I ask him what his plans for the day are, he answers “Listen, pumpkin pie, there are times when an Orc has to be alone. What I’m about to do requires extreme concentration. Not only would it be dangerous for you, but you would risk to put us both in danger. That’s why you’ll have to wait for me. But don’t be afraid, I’ll be very careful. You know me.” That’s usually when I start to panic.
He explains me that someone very reliable gave him a map to a secret cave where a fierce creature has made its lair. He’s gonna head there and tame the beast.
A reliable source, huh?! It seems like he’s been hanging with Marcel again… I’d better add some real equipment to his backpack, I don’t think that sharing a pic-nic or reading a naughty Tauren novel is a very good way to harness a dangerous beast.
I also quickly checked that secret map of his, I’m not gonna let him throw himself in I don’t know what crazy plan that local drunk, Marcel, has put in his head this time.
After a rather long flight, I land not too far from Sardoken’s landing location. As I suspected, his preparation consists mostly in drinking his beer and taking a nap. When, finally, he decides that the time has come for some action, I follow him to the cave.
You would think that anyone willing to tame a dangerous beast would try to keep his scent masked and be as silent as possible. Well, if walking with a piece of dalaran blue in your hand as only equipment means being prepared, then Sardoken was as prepared as he could be.
What follows is suitable for the faint of heart, because no blood was shed and no violence whatsoever happened in that cave. Sardoken simply walked in as he would enter any bar from town, and walked to the creature as if they were friends from way back.
The one thing that you must know about my man, is that beasts love him. I don’t know if it’s because of his charisma or the smell of his feet but, where most adventurers would be shred to pieces, all Sardoken gets is furry balls of affection, a few good licks and a ton of drool. It didn’t take long for the beast to even start chewing on his boot, letting his big toe come out. Another pair of boots ruined by a very “dangerous” taming adventure.
I think it’s safe to say that no harm will come in his way today. I silently backtracked to my mount and headed back to the village where my man would join me triomphant this evening. My man, the hero.