What seemeds to be another day at Rockard was coming to an end.The fiery hues of dusk blended well with the desert terrain of Blasted Lands, the heat making it seem like one giant, well lit furnace. Lak'gora grunts were still busy with fortifying the base, which had been overrun by ogres whose sense of "home" seemed to be crumbling walls and torn banners of this once-Grin stronghold.
In the midst of all this havoc two figures, those of a male orc and a female blood elf, were having a heated discussion over pints of strong alcohol and maps of Azeroth laid on an old wooden table.
"... but the demon said..." the blood elf protested.
" The demon could have lied. Did it ever occur to you that the Burning Legion is behind all this?" the orc was trying to sound wise and convincing. The blood elf smiled at him.
"I've seen the Legion at work, Boktheg. This is something else. Something.. older...Death on wings..Fire..." The priestess looked uneasy as another earthquake rumbled through the stronghold, shaking violently the new constructions.
"Older?" The warlock looked confused. "What makes you think so?" Nimithriel looked at Boktheg with obvious concern.
"You see, whatever that thing is, it is trying to get out from deep within Azeroth. It's like it has been almost buried there for thousands of years and is now yearning for a way out. Those earthquakes are becoming more violent as we speak. That thing is about to surface and unleash hell on this planet." The elf looked around at her people. "We must protect the Grin somehow, but I..." her words were interrupted by the screams of the guards at the front gate. Boktheg and Nimithriel both looked in the direction of the noise, their jaws almost dropping at the sight of their clansmen engulfed in flames and screaming in agony. A large fire elemental was trying to burn its way through the closed Rockard gate.
"I ...know him. He was Rashanda's guardian.." the warlock couldn't take his eyes off the powerful being.
Nimithriel muttered "But... Rashanda's dead..."
Neither of them ever got sober as quickly. Finally realizing what was happening they jumped out of their seats and ran towards the gates. After subduing the elemental Nimithriel spoke:
"Quickly, send your Eye of Kilrogg to Stonard. I have a feeling something's not right."
As Stonard came in sight Boktheg shuddered. Smoke was coming up from the fortified town as the guardians of mages and shamans were unleashing havoc on the settlement. Grots were running around carrying buckets of water, the Gol'kosh were battling elementals as they spawned through a rift right in the middle of the town and the Mok'gun were struggling to keep everyone alive. As the last of the elementals fell, a young shaman, Muffler, picked up something from the ground and handed it to a sythegar. The warlock could not see what it was, but he was happy that things were under control. He no longer needed the Eye and his mind returned to Rockard. He turned towards Nimithriel only to find her holding a mysterious device in her hands.
"I found it amidst the remains of the elemental." She said.
((This is in reference to the rift i saw in Stonard the other day. Also, Rashanda said her character's dead, that's why I am mentioning it this way in the story.))
Bok’theg’s Journal
Entry: 19 Novemeber
The rifts continue to open. There is no rhyme or reason that I can tell, only the locations appear to remain the same. If not a demonic force, what else could disturb the elements so? The more studying I do of the ancient texts, the more Nimithriel’s words seem to ring true…perhaps we are foolish to overlook the possibility of other forces such as dragon aspects or the Old Gods.
Death…on wings…fire...
We must begin preparing now. Although the Chieftain has returned, we have not yet had time to tell him of our discoveries. If things progress as quickly as they have been, we might not have enough time at all. We must begin preparing the Grin’s troops not only for the coming war but for whatever chaos awaits on the horizon.
Today I saw and spoke with Golgrom in the Tainted Scar. It was good to see the neophyte warlock so curious about such places. Nimithriel and Vhares’ studies as well have led them to the same conclusion I reached some time ago…the Black Temple may hold a key to the power we need to harness. Our first expeditions have already begun. My last foray into that chamber was difficult at best. This time we are better prepared and I have high hopes our searches will not be in vain. I feel it is our destiny to find some relic of power that will lend strength to our clan and push us to new heights.
Nimithriel stood atop the main Rockard tower staring into the distance. Her thoughts were a stir of echoes from the past ten years and the events that accompanied them. The scourge that swept through the lands of the Sin'dorei and beyond, the rise and fall of Arthas, the Burning Legion and the terrors it brought to what were once her people. As long as she knew her enemy the blood elf felt no fear, yet for the first time while looking into what had become of the Blasted lands she realized the gravity of what was coming. Azeroth was transformed. The world she once knew well was now an unfamiliar playground of evil so well concealed that she could not recognize its face.
The words of Kahz'zim, the demon that had been summoned, echoed repeatedly through her mind and an unfamiliar chill crept into her soul. She yearned to know more of the being that had so drastically changed the lands around her. Nimithriel knew not what she was up against and her only way to find out was to seek Kahz'zim's help once more. She made a mental note to speak to Boktheg and continued pondering. Her thoughts returned to the tranformation of Azeroth. As if the world had turned upside down almost overnight. A frightening thoguht made its way into her mind and no matter how hard she tried to push it away, it persistently, like a disease, made its way back to her head. "It had to be the Old Gods" she thought "No other creature can bring such chaos, such madness, to the world."
The sun's first rays slowly crept up from behind the hills to the east, illuminating the skies and surround region in the hues of fire. Some grunts had already started getting ready for their daily duties and the noise outside was slowly escalating. Everything seemed almost normal. Almost. Nimithriel realized the land no longer shook with violent earthquakes, and elementals were no longer invading their fortress. Perhaps others found comfort in the false safety that this illusionary calm had offered, but not Nim. She shivered at the realization. It had begun.
Bok’theg’s Journal
Entry: 5 December
Today I traveled to Darkshore with Vhares and Nimithriel. That place has been sundered as just as the rest of Kalimdor has. There are things from deep within the bowels of this world that are struggling to free themselves. We must seek them out and see what we can make of them. The Lak’gora expect it…The Chieftain expects it…even those dark and forlorn things expect it.
The Chieftain has returned to the clan once more and although some doubted him, I did not. I could feel his soul as it returned to the Blasted Lands. Would that I had never destroyed that gem. I believe it was the only thing he feared for he fears not death. It is imprisonment that stalks his dreams. Such a pity the thing is useless now.
But these are things of the past and they are as dead as the one who caused me to break it. Gorfrunch led us in battle and although we bloodied the Alliance there is still work to be done in honing the Grin’s razor edge. I must drive the Lak’gora into uncharted territory. Vhares and Nim now study the blood samples and the fel items from the Temple. I must get Vissen and Trophos to study with them so that they can add their diseased Forsaken magics to the mix. Perhaps then we will have something worthy of the Chieftain’s attention.
The stench of death has once again filled the lands of the Grin. The stranger had brought it with him and Nimithriel could sense it the moment he crossed the portal. "Evil dwells over the world and now the Chieftain had brought it to our doorstep" she thought while carefully examining the package she had received from Vhares earlier that day. Rockard was no longer a haven for those who practiced the Dark Arts, spies lurked in every corner of the fortress, cloaked by the shadows.
She had tried gauging the dead orc's intentions but the cunning bastard had eluded her traps. The blood elf could sense the deceit that reeked from the necrolyte, yet he had tried to remain as pleasant as possible. Nimithriel knew not to trust him.
The vial in her hand had gotten warmer and warmer, its contents slowly coming to a boil. Her attention shifted to it, she quickly put it in its container and began writing a letter to Vhares. A quiet thump behind her alerted the priest to an unknown presence but when she turned around there was no one to be seen. But she felt him. She quickly slipped the steel box in a bag and hurried out. She no longer felt sfe.
A gaping maw.
That was the thought that entered Bok’theg’s mind as he stared down into the depths of the sundered ground at his feet. The Barrens wind blew the scraggly, knotted strands of his thinning hair behind him. He coughed and spit and watched the glob of saliva fall into the chasm that Deathwing had left in his wake. Thinking back on the tremors of just a few months before, it seemed so obvious now. But at the time, even the best of the Grin minds were at a loss as to its cause.
The Lak’gora was just beginning then of course, so it was probably too much to hope for that they would have divined the true nature of what would come to pass across Azeroth…and yet the warlock still felt they had missed something. The ritual with the demon had given them the clues they had needed but they had not been wise enough to decipher the truth.
This had to change. There was no more room for error. Too much was at stake.
The Grin was at war with the Alliance, the lure of the Old Gods called to them like a whisper on the winds, and one of their own was besieged from within his own body. The warlock knew that much depended on their next moves and he could feel the pull at his soul of the still-mysterious book the Apexsis had introduced to him.
He pulled a leatherbound journal from his pack and thumbed through it looking for a single reference. There it was, staring back at him. He had forgotten about the task given to his Soul Flayer and her teacher. The blood…the fel artifacts…the research. What had it accomplished? Now was the time to press the blood elves and see what new power the Lak’gora held within it’s grasp. Now was the time for Bok’theg’s plans to come to be set in motion.