|The Najin Tribe|
The Najin Tribe was founded shortly before the death of Arthas, the Lich King. The three original founders, Raka'jin, Rimaka, and Fuman'ju, although having different motives, all came together with one goal. That goal was to inhabit Jaguero Isle and begin a new tribe of trolls for those who did not care so much for the wars between the Horde and Alliance, and wished to simply live in the wilderness with the jungle as it's blanket from the sight of those ongoing wars.
The luscious sights, smells and sounds of Stranglethorn Vale's many variety of animals, herbs, and such made Stranglethorn the perfect area for their tribe, but the three had trouble navigating the seemingly endless labyrinth jungle. Starting from the northwestern part of Stranglethorn, they headed south in hope of finding somewhere they could begin colonization. Day and night, they hunted and made small camps, moving only a short distance each day in caution. However, two days into their trip, they encountered the result a large battle between Bloodscalps and Skullsplitters. They approached, stepping over the many bodies.. Analyzing the two tribes's corpses, Rimaka could easily tell exactly how the fight had begun, it wasn't an organized fight at all. The Bloodscalps had obviously been hunting; the furs of tigers lay deadly silent upon a carrying contraption the Bloodscalps used to carry the furs. Spears with blue cloths wrapped around the handles lay impaled into the ground at an angle that Rimaka pointed out to his companions, were thrown from higher ground. He noted that this could only mean that the Skullsplitters had begun an ambush, but it must have ended up in a draw. A small number of Bloodscalps fought bravely against a good ten to twenty Skullsplitters, which had Rimaka raising the question, "Why don' we be joinin' de' Bloodscalps mon'? Joo see how dey' be holdin' demselves up agains' de' odds." Raka'jin, behind his elderly mask replied, "We did not travel all dis' way, just ta' get caught up in a war between two banners. Need I remind ja'...our whole purpose for comin' out here, was to get away from a fight between two banners." Fuman'ju nodded in silent agreement, and looked towards Rimaka. He sighs and nods at his elders, and the three continue their trip southward.
Using the jungle to their advantage to camoflauge themselves against the many hostilities, they eventually are greeted by the southeastern beach of Stranglethorn Vale. Frustrated by his elder, Raka'jin, Rimaka says to the two, "We 'ave been travelin' for days n' days mon'...an' we 'ave yet ta' find anywhea' dat' joo be satisfied wit'...wha' was wrong wit' de' abandoned ruins I showed ja?"
"I 'ave told ja' time an' time again mon'. De' spirits will tell us when we 'ave found whea' dey' want us ta' go," Raka'jin replies. After walking down the beach for a few hours, they notice an island out in the distance, and Raka'jin tells the two of them, that this was the place that the spirits had been calling him to. The day coming to an end, and night coming within the hour, the three gather supplies to build a raft to take them to the island. Once the supplies were obtained, the three found shelter and rested for the night. That morning, the three built the raft, and sailed towards what they would call their home. Jaguero Island.
The First Najin
Raka'jin, the Tribe Leader and head Shaman, Fuman'ju, second-in-command and the Tribe's Magi leader, and Rimaka, one of the tribe's Enforcers and one of the best warrior-hunters among the tribe. These three founders, with their diverse personalities and professions, attracted many trolls from over Azeroth whom had stumbled upon Stranglethorn Vale looking for a place to call home. However, the three had a difficult time attempting to recruit new trolls into their ranks, because of their attempt to stay under the radar of the troll tribes, and both the Alliance and Horde. However, this problem would soon be fixed. What they didn't know at this time, though, was that this help would not come at a very great cost.
Tribe life was very simple, keep food stocks high enough to supply all members, keep fires going, and make sure everyone had something to wear. The tribe did not care much for fighting, or training members to fight. The only things they were focused on, was making sure new recruits could hunt, gather supplies such as herbs and wood, or if they contained the prior initiate experience, trained shamans and witch-doctors. If every member was at their peak for what they could do, not much was done other than socializing, gathering together to talk to the spirits, or the occaisional celebration. One day, however, a fisherman spotted a body floating towards the island. The whole tribe that was currently at the camp, all gathered around the coast. Raka'jin, without the tiniest hint of confusion of what was going on, spoke aloud, "One o' you, swim out and bring the orc to shore. If possible, see if he can be helped." Three of the trolls instantly sprinted towards the water and swam out to bring the body back to shore. However, Rimaka could not help but look up at Rimaka's emotionless mask, attempting to see into his face, but with failure. He wondered how, from that far away, he knew that it was an orc. It was almost as if Raka'jin had known this would happen. He looked back at Fuman'ju for a slight moment, and noticed that he was wondering the exact same thing. The other trolls looked out toward the waters, and some prayed to the Loas that the lost soul was alright.
Anxiety passed through all of the trolls. It had been about thirty minutes since the orc was brought back to the camp, his body laying lifeless next to the bonfire. It's flames flickered, and embers danced into the night sky almost as if they were celebrating. Shamans and witch-doctors stood chanting around the seemingly lifeless body, attempting to contact it's spirit which they'd hope had found it's way to Jaguero. After a long while of chanting from the magi, and silence from the surrounding trolls, the orc began to cough up water. Gasping for air, the magi held the orc up, as he continued spewing water. Raka'jin stood up from his crouched position and walked towards the orc, staring down through his mask. He saw the orc, finally full of life, who was adorned with only a green kilt, woven as a gift from the Najin in hope that his spirit would find it's way back. The orc gained breath, his voice deep and somewhat damaged, giving him a crackly sound, "Who are you...sent from Vol'jin?"
"You be safe, orc. De' spirits foretold me dat' you would show up. I be Raka'jin, leader o' de' Najin tribe." the orc sat confused, slowly gaining conscience and his awareness, unsure if these trolls were friendly, or wanted to eat him. "You're not with the Horde...why have you not killed me yet?" But Raka'jin shook his head, "If we wanted to kill ya', we would 'ave left ja' afloat in de' water. What be ja' name?" The orc slowly gained the trust of the troll that stood before him, though slightly intimidated by the emotionless mask on the troll before him. "You can call me Morglish. I am a warrior of the Horde...our fleet was destroyed when we were intercepted by an Alliance patrol. We were sent to scout an island a few miles from Stormwind...that would give us a large tactical advantage. Last thing I know...my ship was blown to pieces within seconds. We stood no chance against their patrol."
Raka'jin nodded, and all the other trolls sat quietly around the bonfire. After a moment of silence, taking all the information in, Raka'jin spoke, "I am sorry ta' hear dat'. But I must be askin' a favor o' ja', afta' all. If it weren't foa' us, joo wouldn' be alive right now mon'." Morglish sighed, "I am in your debt, troll. Whatever you wish of me, I am yours to command.--but I will not go so far as to disobey Garrosh, so watch your tongue." There was another moment of silence, all of the Najin watching anxiously as the bonfire's embers begin to crackle even louder.
"Joo will become a leader, wit' me. Joo will be responsible for bringin' orcs into de' tribe, and supplies from de' Horde. Dis' is wha' de' spirits 'ave told me." Small gasps were heard, and facial expressions were exchanged as each troll turned toward the other, unsure whether or not this was a good thing or not. Rimaka turned to Raka'jin with a face of disgust, as if he had just thrown a troll baby off the side of a cliff. Morglish looked up at Raka'jin in disbelief, "And if I decline?"
"Joo will not escape de' jungle alone," Raka'jin responds. Morglish shakes his head, "I have no other choice, then. Consider it done, you will have the strongest tribe within this foul jungle." Raka'jin nods and extends his hand to Morglish, helping the orc to his feet. He takes his back to his chief hut, and chatter ensues around the bonfire, both of suprised joy, and absolute disgust. Rimaka shakes his head furiously and begins to head back to his sleeping mat. He pauses for a moment and says to Fuman'ju, "Dis' will only bring us moa' problems." Fuman'ju continues staring into the bonfire, not saying anything. Rimaka shakes his head and continues to his mat. The rest of the tribe soon disperses, all except Fuman'ju, who continues staring into the fire, unsure of the days and months to come.
More Allies, More Problems
Under the new command of both Raka'jin and Morglish, the tribe grew powerful in numbers, and attracted many who passed through Stranglethorn Vales. Orcs and trolls united into an odd tribe, which would only seem even more odd as time would pass. Some of these attracted orcs and trolls would end up becoming powerful warriors, hunters, and magi. Akhar Bloodfury, an orc, became the Najin's warrior trainer. Appointed by Morglish, he trained elite warriors to fight against attacks from both the Bloodscalp and Skullsplitter, who were becoming more and more aware of the Najin's presence within Stranglethorn Vale. Goregash, an orc, became the Najin's very first tribe member to arise to the rank of Berserker, a rank which is obtained by becoming an elite warrior and war-hero, who is ruthless on the battlefield. Morglish eventually disappeared into the jungle, most likely in an attempt to return to the Horde, but most likely failed. No one heard of Morglish again. Raka'jin had to make a decision, who would control and lead the orcs within the Najin. He invited Goregash to his tent, where he spoke with and got to know the elite warrior. Goregash immediately seemed like the leader that the Najin needed, and he promoted him on the spot to the second leader of the Najin, taking Morglish's position. Roktar, also an orc, became an Enforcer within the Najin for his excellent hunting and animal taming skills, aswell as keeping orcs and trolls from beginning fights with eachother.
With the Najin's new ties with the Horde, exceptional trolls were also recruited, not only from the Horde but from many places among the southern Eastern Kingdoms. Myuki, a troll, became an enforcer for her exceptional hunting and skinning skills. She was also known to be a flirt with all of the trolls within the Najin. Cazbek, the only forest troll to join the Najin, was promoted to Berserker and then an enforcer as well, for his massive strength and absolute bloodlust. However, not a month after, he mysteriously disappeared and was not heard from again. The Najin grieved for him, as he was a great addition but also, very social among the Najin. Lojata, a troll, became an enforcer for her unnatural charisma, which made her a great ambassador. She became the mate to Raka'jin, whom had a great connection with her. Sapa'dan, a troll, became an Enforcer after demonstrating his abilities as a Shadowhunter, and grew to be close friends Fuman'ju. The two of them normally trained new recruits together. Took'ali, a troll, also became a notable member of the Najin with his extraordinary shamanistic powers and very rich background.
The orcs and trolls of the tribe, over time, eventually grew a bond and Raka'jin noticed less and less fighting between the two groups daily. However, there was one more vision that the spirits had shown him, that had yet to come true. Some noticed Raka'jin, in the middle of the night, walking around the island by himself as if he were looking for something. No one approached him to ask why, mainly because the eye-holes of his mask glowed dark green during the night-time, adding to the already eerie mask that was odd enough during the day.
As the Najin grew, so did their influence on Jaguero. They expanded, and eventually grew to have more and more huts to house their members, rather than having them all sleep on ground mats. Raka'jin, Fuman'ju, and Rimaka watched as their dream turned into reality. Large tribe, hidden under the jungle from the Horde and Alliance's battles, but Rimaka had grown unsure from the day that Raka'jin promoted an orcish leader, how hidden they would now be, with contacts with the Horde. Rimaka knew that the Horde would eventually recognize the Najin as an official member of the Horde, which would cause all kinds of problems.
Upon a watchtower, a lookout yells that he spots several small canoes heading towards Jaguero from the north. Once again, all of the members crowd around the north beach to be greeted by unarmed tauren, who called themselves "The Blackhooves". There were about four, and approached the beaches with their hands high. Several lookouts held their spears towards the tauren, waiting for Raka'jin. He walked up, and motioned the lookouts to lower their weapons. He stood before the taurens, who had proceeded to bow. The larger one spoke, "We are the Blackhoof Clan, and I am Deron. I lead my people from the north. We left Kalimdor in search of an artifact, but we were looking in the wrong area. We were ambushed by Skullsplitter trolls, and we are the last four of our clan. The spirits told us to flee here, were they right?"
Raka'jin smiled, "De' final prophecy I was given from de' spirits 'as come true, Deron. Welcome to de' Najin. Meet me back at de' camp, we 'ave much ta' talk about. I will 'ave someone take ja' there." The tauren bowed again, and the four followed a troll back to the camp. Rimaka was now furious, both at the fact that Raka'jin had not told him what the spirits had told him, and the fact that tauren were now joining the tribe. This time, he went up to Raka'jin and confronted him, "Joo 'ave not told me any'ting. Joo knew about de' orc an' tauren, ja? Why are ja' hidin' it from me." Raka'jin stared at Rimaka, his mask almost seeming like it was staring into his soul, "Dere is much ya' don' know. Ja' will figure it out, when de' time is right." Rimaka looked away so he did not have to look at Raka'jin's mask and nodded. Raka'jin turned around and started back towards the camp.
Few taurens were then attracted to the Najin, the most notable of them being the notorious 'Titan Hoof' brothers.
The Fall of the First Najin
The Najin now was composed of three races, dominantly trolls, then orcs, and very few tauren. The leaders of the tribe being Raka'jin and Goregash, who now leads the taurens after Doren's mysterious departure, who was never seen again. The Najin now have a decent amount of warriors, trained by Akhar and Goregash, but these warriors would only be trained to fight against threats such as other troll tribes, and small attacks from other factions. It was now a few months into the 'First Najin's' history, and so much had happened. However, strangely, one of the shipments ordered by Goregash for more supplies from Orgrimmar was sunk a few miles away from Jaguero. Everyone in the tribe began to wonder what had happened, many thought it was a mere storm and the wreckage was just now washing up on shore. Raka'jin did not speak that day, he sat in his tent and ordered Rimaka to be in charge for the day. Rimaka ordered a small ship to investigate the wreckage of the Orgrimmar supply ship, and bring back any clues. Three trolls were sent to investigate on a small ship, but did not come back.
Two hours had passed, and Rimaka was beginning to worry. The trolls had not come back, and there was no sign of them. Rimaka began pacing around the camp, before finally showing up to Raka'jin's tent. "Raka'jin, de' scout ship hasn't come back...I fear foa' dem'." Raka'jin stood up without saying a word, and motioned for Rimaka to follow him, and they ended up at the unlit bonfire. "It's de' middle o' de' day, dey could not 'ave gotten lost, Raka'jin." Rimaka stood, waiting for Raka'jin to respond. "Some'ting be not right, Rimaka...de' spirits 'ave stopped communicatin'." Rimaka shook his head in confusion, "Raka'jin, what does thi--" just as he was finishing his sentence, a lookout yells from across the island, "Alliance ships! Dey comin' in fast!" Raka'jin falls to one knee, looking into the unlit bonfire. Rimaka looks down at Raka'jin in terror, before sprinting over to the outlook as fast as he can, trying to dodge the scrambling trolls exiting their tents, and stopping their daily activities.
The first cannon shot can be heard, and Rimaka stops in his tracks as the watchtower is blown to pieces, the aerial wood deeply cutting his right arm. He grasps his arm in pain, and runs back to the south end of the island to the camp. Large cannon shots can still be heard as he's retreating, each shot taking out watchtowers and tents all along the northern part of the island. Back on the southern part of the island, Rimaka finds both Fuman'ju and Raka'jin talking to eachother. Rimaka interrupts, "Raka'jin! What do we do? Dere be no'ting we can counter dey' ships wit'!" Raka'jin turns to Rimaka and hands him his necklace, "De' Najin is no more. Go wit' Fuman'ju, take as many o' de members as ja' can, and flee de' island." Rimaka turns around at the sound of humans and dwarves yelling in Common, "For the Alliance!" Rimaka turns back to Raka'jin, "Joo comin' wit us!" Raka'jin shakes his head, "I will try mon'. It be important, joo an' Fuman'ju make it off de' island first." Rimaka holds back his anger, however he hears the the yelling getting closer and closer, and the terrifyng screams of the civilian Najin, and decides to gather as many as he can onto his boat with Fuman'ju. He fills the boat, and floats off to the mainland. He looks back at the island to find the Alliance soldiers throwing burning torches onto the huts and tents, fighting the remaining warriors and magi of the Najin attempting to slow them down from getting to the fleeing members.
The trolls and orcs that made it to the mainland begin sobbing over friends and family members who they cannot find. Raka'jin is presumed dead, and about 70% of the tribe is assumed missing or dead. While it is possible that some may have swam off of the island, it is unlikely, but there is still a chance they could have made it. Rimaka and Fuman'ju watch as flames devour Jaguero Isle, their only home for months. The group of the remaining Najin make it to Booty Bay, whom they seek medical support for the injured and near-death whom had close calls with cannons. However, most of the care was rejected for lack of money, and some of the injured ended up losing their lives.
The orcs of the Najin decide it would be best to return to Durotar, and attempt to re-assume their rightful place under the Horde. A handful of trolls decide to follow Fumanju back to Durotar aswell, whom hopes to mend the tribe and take them elsewhere. They decide on the name, The Jungletooth Tribe. Rimaka decides to stay in Booty Bay, as he waves farewell to Fumanju and the rest of the tribe, who all take the next boat to Durotar. Rimaka is now alone in Booty Bay, as he prays to the Loas to bring Raka'jin back. Every day he awakes from the inn, he looks around to see if Raka'jin has made his way back. However, days pass, and few Najin members make it to Booty Bay, but he never finds Raka'jin.
Rimaka sits on his bed, both his arms bandaged from the shrapnel and deep wound from the wood that deeply cut his right arm, and his chest bandaged from shrapnel aswell. He holds Raka'jins necklace, remembering the friendship he'd had with him before the Najin existed. Something in his head told him that he needed to find his tribemates, and he believed it, for there was something about the voice that reminded him of Raka'jin. He got up off the bed, aching from his wounds, and waited for the next boat to Durotar.