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Oh, man! That was ALMOST as AWESOME as the time I HELPED KILL THE LICH KING! Yeah! What?? You haven't heard about that!? Okay! So, anyways, so there I was, doing my own thing, helping out in Icecrown, (I'm a really helpful person you should totally come to me whenever you need help), and then OUT OF THE BLUE comes Mister TIRION FORDRING! And I was like 'OH MY LIGHTS IT'S MISTER TIRION FORDRING SIR!' and he was all like 'Waddli! We need a hero. Not just the Argent Crusade, but ALL OF AZEROTH', and I was all like, 'Gosh, Mister Fordring, Sir! I'll do what I can! I'm a real helpful gnome, just ask me for anything and I'll try my best!' and Mister Tirion Fordring was like, 'I need you to get in this cannon, Waddli, and we'll shoot it at Arthas on his damned Frozen Throne and finish this.' And I was all like, 'But I'm just a gnome sir, what can I do to help?' And he was all like, 'You can be the hero to save us ALL.' So, what could I do, I was all, 'You can count on me, Mister Fordring, sir!' So I climbed into the cannon and it was really cramped in there so I had to sit down in the end of it, and when I was in I could kinda hear Mister Fordring saying, 'By the Light, fire the damn cannon, now, now!' And then there was a BIG EXPLOSION and fire and then I was FLYING through the air and Mister Fordring Sir was all like 'AH HA HA HA YESS I LOVE GNOMES!' And I went sailing through the air to my DESTINY. Anyways, this was ALMOST as awesome as that. Almost.
Long ago before I was born and before Revantusk was little more than a wandering clan, there lived a great huntress. Her name was Lupa'Jin. Those were the days of aftermath of the Troll Wars. When the Unnamed One took his vast armies and wiped out many of our kind that could not form under his great power. The days when the dwarves hid in their mountains, not venturing out to cut down the trees of the forest we love so much. They say that those were the days when the biggest threat to us were our cousins themselves. The days before we met a pact with the 'New Horde' as my mama calls them. The stories say, we were decimated. We Revantusk had not the strength and numbers of other tribes. We Revantusk are meant to be fisherfolk and storyweavers, not battlemasters. We Revantusk are considered weak in the eyes of our cousins in Hinterland today over the destruction they wrought in our lives. But not Lupa'Jin. This is her story. My mama tells me time and again not to believe in this tale as she says that Lupa'Jin was just a lady she knew. And the lady was not the negotiator that everyone claims she was. Well, I know it's true. I know that the story is true, deep within my heart. She left our lands to spread her words, to give others that power she had, her long arrow. But I should start at the beginning. Because all stories start at the beginning. Revantusk was once far back from a huge beach where turtles came to mate. It was a long run to the ocean and we prided ourselves on the longboats we pulled across the beach made from the core of the tallest trees, felled by our hands. And chosen from those that the Loa knew wanted to be boats. Those were the days that we could see enemies coming because they had to run across the beach to the village or drop down from us from above. If they did, they'd die because the cliff was that high. Those were the days, they said. Lupa'jin was born without a father to a mother that had never lain with a man. Yao Jin, the mystic, cast charms upon herself so that she could call the longest fanged wolf of the forest and turn him into a man beast. Every month for a year when the moon was full, she lay with him. She lay with him and gave birth to Lupa - the wolf. Then after, she turned him back into a wolf and he went back to his folk. But he wouldn't go. The village said you could hear him howling around the perimeter. Longing to be with the woman he loved and to protect the child they bore. After five months of this, they say that Lupa herself, crawled out of the village and came upon him. He could smell his scent on her and he was about to spirit her away to be raised with his wolves, but she had no fangs, only tusks, and she had no paws, only hands. And he knew he could not take her from the trolls because she was one more than she was wolf. So he sent the howls on the wind that she would never be harmed by wolves again. That she was his daughter and his jaws would crush any wolf who would try. He marked her then. Nobody knows how, but wolves bowed to her and followed her for the rest of her days. For she was one of them. Now everyone knows that Lupa was smart as a crack whip. She swam further and longer than any of the other whelps. She was a terror with a slingshot. The lady I called Auntie, who really wasn't but that's another story, told me that she used to shoot eagles out of the sky with her slingshot. One crack of a rock, right in the noggin. Wham! Veering down to the earth to be breakfast. She could jump higher than the tree tops and she could fly off cliffs without dying as she landed below. She ran with wolves at night, never sleeping. Through all this, our people began to fear her. That kind of power she could turn it on her own tribe, they said. That kind of power, she could be a threat to Zul'jin -- er the Unnamed One himself and he could come to find her, killing all of us in his wake. But still Yao Jin, the Great Mystic, knew her daughter was meant for something more. Her daughter was meant to bring The Great Peace. We Revantusk aren't really fighters. You have to leave the tribe to be able to learn. So Lupa'jin learned with a bow and arrow to fight with the wolves. When they lunged, she shot. When they clawed, she shot. Soon her arrow was long and true. Made of bone and stone, weighted perfectly like no fletcher could devise. She was so smart and crafty that they still say, "You're no Lupa," when you make mistakes to this day. But all heroes have to leave their homeland at some point in the story. One day, her father wolf came to the village. By this time she was long of leg and nearly grown. By this time, his fur was grizzled and his eye bled from the fight he had the day before. See wolves, so my Auntie told me, fight for power. The strongest is the leader and when a wolf gets old he will be bested by the next wolf. Wolves don't live as long as you and me. And Lupa's father was dying. Our hunters shot him, thinking him come to pick off our children, but Lupa's keen hearing heard their shouts and cries and she ran across the village in three great leaps. She came to him and took him up in her arms and she brought him to her mother. The arrows out of his body. "Save him!" said she. Her mother said, "The Loa can't save him. He is my love, but he has to go." And he went. So Lupa cried tears. Tears of sadness. The salt of her tears made the water in the ocean rise. She cried for fourty days and fourty nights until the waters rose and the beach flooded. The waterline came up to where it is today. When the water touched her father's body, he floated away and Lupa stopped crying. Well it wasn't long before she had to leave. The other villagers knew that she would do so soon because the wolves started howling, baying for the her loss. They could feel that her heart was heavy and see it in the rain that fell from the sky. They knew that she had to go, that she had to roam and find her place in the world. For her place was not with us. That was when she left to join the Horde. I think I need a water break. I'll be back in a second.