A note atop a folded guild tabard

I am leaving. Like Xhaana, I must follow my path. Unlike her, however, I knew what my path was before I joined Tiger Team One. The Team has left my path, therefore I must leave the Team. Call me a traitor if you wish, and curse my name like you do Xhaana's, I care not. I know what I am.

I am the instrument of my Warchief's desire.
I am a weapon of my Warchief's command.

I cannot believe that the Warchief would so willingly burn what remains of the bridge built by Highlord Bolvar Fordragon and Saurfang the Younger. Or, for that matter, that he would smile upon imprisonment and torture by way of saying thanks to the human who saved the life of a tauren. To hate all humans because of their king would mean I must hate my entire race because of the False Warchief. Yet the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade both have orcs and humans fighting side by side with trolls and night elves, dwarves and tauren. Both Horde and Alliance have bigger enemies than each other; if we cannot put aside our petty hatreds in the same of defeating a common enemy, then prehaps we deserve to become enslaved by the Lich King. Or better yet, the Burning Legion. Orcs were slaves to blind hatred and bloodlust once, why not a second time?

Spirits be with you; I know they're with me.

- Ryxl Ironheart