Stomphoof’s Shiny Stuff

The dark winds spread out from the portal, hidden in Nagrand. Stomphoof, standing next to his windrider Winghoof, stood looking down on the dark figures running below. “They seek to restore the portal. Fools.” He sighed. It had been three months since he had discovered where his sisters killer had gone. Originally he had been told it was Dar’Khan, the traitor who had apparently seeked to steal the Sunwells power. Stomphoof had not cared. He smiled grimely as he thought about the conversation.

“Alright Dar’Khan. This can go easy, or it can go hard. I am nothing like my sister was.”
Dar’Khan simply tried to curse the large tauren who easily held him aloft in one hand. Stomphoof let out a laugh, the other scourge dead around him.
“Your magics are worthless against me. You. Are. Nothing!” Stomphoof flung the Scourge wizard to the ground, an audible crack filled the air as a bone snapped, and Dar’Khan cried out in pain.
“That is just the beginning of your torment if you do not tell me what happened to Clawhoof!”
Dar’Khan spat. “Fine you foolish Tauren! She wished to know of power…so I sent her north!”
“North? There is nothing North of here.”
“To Northrend…Home of our Master!”
Stomphoof stared. His sister? Sent to Northrend? What madness! He sighed. “Fine then, you have told me what I have wished to know.”
“So you will let me go then Tauren?”
“What? What gave you that idea?”
And before Dar’Khan could react, Stomphoof tore the wizards head from his shoulders.

Stomphoof stood up. He knew what he had to do. He wasn’t ready, not yet. To travel to Northrend. To find his sisters killer. To bring him to Justice. He was not ready.

Not yet.

He simply wasn’t shiny enough.

And so, without a word, Stomphoof dove down amongst the cultists. He would train. He would practice.

He would be ready.