Cuiyige was that wise Orc. Before I set out adventuring, I had spent several years with the Sentinels in Ashenvale. I had fought those tall, savage Orcs head-on and knew how terrifying they could be when they went berserk.
And Cuiyige was supposedly a Shaman, one of the Orcs' "noble" professions. They commanded lightning and storms, as well as the power of the earth, but such talents were scarce, as rare as the mysterious Druids in Night Elf society.
At any rate, I had never seen how a Shaman fought. I only knew they were not to be trifled with.
Holding my cup of water, I looked at the old man before me. Tirion Fordring must have fought Shamans more than once. He was a truly legendary human Paladin. The glory of the first generation of Paladins had yet to fade from human society; they had been humanity's last protectors back then.
Then Tirion Fordring continued his story, and I hurriedly put my wandering thoughts aside to listen closely.
"The first time I met Cuiyige was at a granary outside the town of Hearthglen."
Tirion Fordring sank into his memories. The wrinkles on his face mingled with his white hair, and for some reason, I had the sense of a hero at the end of his road.
"Around that time, the villagers reported repeatedly seeing large, dark figures in the forest. Some livestock had also gone missing, but no one had been hurt or killed. These strange events frightened them terribly. You know, common folk sometimes like to scare themselves, but as their lord, I had a duty to find out what it really was. So after a hunting trip, I went alone to the granary outside town. There, I saw an old Orc struggling to carry our grain toward