Vellum; nailed in sight of the Razor-hill meeting point.

[Shakorr]

~The vellum is supple and of excellent quality.~
~It bears the inkmark of the Horde Embassy in Orgrimmar.~
~Written in somewhat archaic orcish; the penmanship of the text is brickish and heavy-handed.~~

~The vellum has been nailed hanging in plain view of The Grim's meeting-place in Razor-Hill~

Throm-Kar, Warriors of the Grim.

I am Shakorr Brokenanvil of the Mag'har Blackrock. My kin and I have passed through a great barrier of time and distance to join your Horde at this time of great peril. I was a young warrior when I first encountered your Horde. I was your enemy. Sworn to the service of the Iron Horde. I learned the error of my foolish, youthful ways; beaten within an inch of my life - blind service of the strong was not enough. Wisdom to match courage. Humbled; I turned to the elements - and when your people left my homeworld; I fought to keep honour and courage alive. I became mighty. And while my passage to this 'Azeroth' has left me hollow and disconnected from the elements of my home; each day I build new connections to the fractured fires and disparate winds of this place.

I understand that for your people, little time has passed since you left my lands. 25 long years have passed for my kind. I was barely blooded a true warrior when I last encountered the Horde. Now, I am a seasoned fighter, and carry the stories of the elements and my people in my heart and song.

An orphan handed me a parchment when I was no more than a dozen steps out of the Embassy where I was greeted. It contained a message. A Mandate. I have sworn my loyalty to the Warchief, Sylvanas - as have all my kin. Thus; I serve the interests of the Horde. As do you. I will return daily to this place; and prove myself worthy to count myself amongst your number; or may the shattered elements of this disjointed world strike me down.

Lok'tar Ogar - Victory or Death.