This proud Tauren was once a member of the finest fighting force Orgrimmar had to offer. Hailing from Thunder Bluff, Uraktah honed his skills sharply, not only in the art of nature and taming the wild beasts of Azeroth, but also through his deadly skill with a bow. Everything seemed clear and joyous, until Garrosh Hellscream reigned into the Horde as Warchief. He arrested many Tauren, including Uraktah, for wrong convictions of heresy against the True Horde. His Kor’kron warriors imprisoned Uraktah and many other outcasts in the prisons of Orgrimmar, until the day that the heart of Y’Shaarj, the Old God and progenitor of the terrible Sha. That day, war broke out in the streets, and many prisoners broke free from the confines of their cells. Uraktah found himself running first to the cage of his beloved violet strider, Ka’la. As he ripped the chains off the iron lock that bound the beast inside its cage, three Kor’kron warriors burst into the room behind him. One through a mangled, jagged spear, and before Uraktah could react, the spear impaled Ka’la. As he watched his bird die, anger and spite built in the heart of Uraktah, but he knew that he couldn’t take on all three guards at once. But he could try. Uraktah lunged at the guards, knocking one to the side and charging blindly at the other two. The larger of the orcs, whose insignia on his chest signified he was a veteran fighter, waved his massive axe and swatted the angry Tauren aside. Defeated, Uraktah lay on the ground and embraced death. However, a shadowed figure flew across the room and right under the dazed orc Uraktah had slammed into, impaling him with a jagged blade on the way. The other smaller orc saw this and flew into a fit of rage, launching at the shadowed figure. His efforts were futile though, as the figure dashed out of the way at the last second, then turned to sever the head of his inexperienced opponent. The veteran orc raised his weapon just in time to block the rapid lunge of the attacker’s axe, but he failed to see the blade of the greatsword that the figure was also wielding, which plunged into his heart. The orc fell on his knees and collapsed, while the figure turned to the cage where the fallen bird lay. He walked over to the bird and revealed a small flower hidden under his cloak. The figure muttered some incantations in a foreign language, to which Uraktah found to be Drakkari. He turned to Uraktah, “I be sorry about your friend, I know what it be like to lose everything you got.”
“A troll?” Uraktah inquired.
“You be expecting betta help?” the troll replied, as he tossed Uraktah the bow that was slung across his back. “You look like you be good wid da arrows. Now we go, and you best be keepin’ up.”
“What is your name, champion?” Uraktah asked, still confused and angry at the death of his friend.
“I be Jakaari, and we both be takin’ place in da liberation of Orgrimmar.”
Uraktah nodded at the warrior and followed as the two emerged from the prison and fought through countless orcs escaping the city. That day, the two became friends, blood-sworn friends, as they both helped each other start a new life in such a savage world.