Zujin smiled as he heard the gasps of aww from both of the females he was with when they saw the city of Orgrimmar for the first time. Their escort of half as dozen grunts however had no time for sight seeing and guided them straight to the Valley of Wisdom where the horde shamans gathered.
As they came to the entrance of a large building the grunts saluted another group of orcs who wore distinctive black and yellow coloured heavy armour. They escorted the trio through the building to a small chamber off the throne room inside waiting for them was an old orc.
“Greetings I am Nazgrel Advisor to the Warchief.” The old orc introduced himself. “This letter from General Goretooth tells me that you have all been envoled in a plot to summon a powerful demon known as a Dread Lord.” Nazgrel stated. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” Zujin replied.
“Ok then lets start from the beginning,” Nazgrel said and sat down behind his desk. “How did your uncle evade capture when the horde was defeated after the second war?”
Taking a deep breath Zujin told the older orc and advisor to the warchief everything about his uncle his father and how they escaped the alliance’s assault on the dark portal. Then he explained how they had found the caverns that were far enough inside the swamp that the human patrols would never find them. Nazgrel questioned him about almost every detail of their life before contact with the Dread Lord.
As night began to fall his assistant reported that the house he had ordered to be prepared for the three of them was ready. It was the end of the first day of questioning but definitely not the last. Weeks of questioning followed and Nazgrel would appear early in the morning with questions for the three of them. The old orc would often not leave until the day light had completely faded from the sky.
Eventually Zujin showed Nazgrel the tome that his uncle had taken from the shadow council and then entrusted to him when they entered the spire in Black Rock Mountain. The old orc showed great interest in this and examined the book closely.
Only a few days after he had taken the book away Nazgrel inform them that his time with them was at an end. Now agents from ‘The Shattered Hand’ which he explained was a organisation within the horde dedicated to ensuring security from threats from both without and within. Then he left them with two orcs and a troll who began to question Nasanda about the Dragonmaw clan.
* * *
The two shadows seemed to rapidly solidify, the one that had killed Zujin formed into an orc whose right side was hideously mutilated. His face on that side was burnt and charred with many dark scars, his arm seemed to end just bellow the elbow and his leg just above the knee, both of these limbs were completed by shadow magic. In stark contrast his left side was seemed untouched by what ever had happened to his right, though his face did show his age.
Close by the second shadow shaped itself into a huge orc that was bigger than even Rokash who was the largest tauren that Jarax knew. At least he thought it was an orc as the figure was encase in armour that seemed to be made of the same type of magic as the others limbs.
“For the Horde!” Anarchic suddenly roared and charged at the smaller of the two shadow/orcs.
He threw a punch that Jarax could tell would have taken their enemies head clean off had it connected. But it did not, instead it sailed through the empty space that had been occupied by the shadow/orc who turned in such a way that he brought his right knee up into the warriors chest.
Anarchic own momentum lifted him off his feet and sent him tumbling head first through the air towards the ground. In that instant the shadow/orc suddenly had an evil looking magical blade in his hand and he used it to open up the warrior’s spine from the base of his skull to his hips, Anarchic was dead before he hit the ground.
Simultaneously as Anarchic attacked Garnesh turned on the larger shadow/orc and attempted to blast it with his chain lighting spell. But the armour of the huge monster absorbed the attack with ease and the large shadow/orc laughed.
In the next second the large shadow/orc was behind Garnesh with an axe that would have taken a normal orc like Jarax both hands to wield in each of his. In a blur of motion that was almost too fast to see the troll shaman was not only decapitated but cut in half at the waist as well.
Seeing their allies cut down broke the spell of horror that had held Jarax, Nyako and Saku. The hunter began to fire shot after shot at the smaller of the two shadow/orcs and Jarax and Nyako came at the larger from either side. The two former grunts leapt into the air their weapons raised high ready to strike a mortal blow to this monster.
Their attacks were as effective as their companions however; Saku’s shots were absorbed by a mass of shadow magic that the smaller of the two summoned between him and the hunter. While the larger of the two moved with speed that should not have been possible and its axe’s vanished as its arms sprung up and caught both Nyako and Jarax with its large hands wrapped around their torso and necks.
Then when the smaller enemy had decided he had had enough of Saku’s attack he hurled the mass towards the hunter and then detonated it just before it hit him. Saku was thrown unconscious to the ground, his front all blackened from the blast.
As Saku hit the ground the sound of the chanting trolls became almost hysterical and responding to their calls the Avatar of Hakkar began to rise.
* * *
While Nazgrel’s questions had been carefully constructed to uncover any secrets that Zujin had been holding back, the agents of the ‘Shattered Hand’ were extremely direct and aggressive. However they did not seem to have the stamina as the old orc and their question sessions started later in the morning and ended as the sun began to set.
This gave the trio a lot more free time and Varlet was especially grateful for this since. They had all become friendly with the grunts ordered to guard them, Zujin decided to ask them where they should go in the city for entertainment.
“The Ring of Valor,” said Sergeant Virg’all. “Some of the hordes finest warriors can bee seen there, many of us go there when we are not on duty.”
“May I take my companion and sister to this ring?” Zujin asked.
“Of course, I will talk to a friend of mine she can get you the best seats in the arena” Virg’all nodded. “I will have to have some of the grunts escort you though.” He added apologetically.
“That’s ok, we would most likely get lost in this city without some one to guide us.” Zujin laughed and thumped the sergeant on the arm. “I’ll go tell the girls the good news.”
“Hey Zujin,” Virg’all called, and he stopped. “For a warlock, your alright.” Virg’all smiled and left the room.
Varlet had been over the moon about the chance to get out and see the Ring of Valour; they had an escort of three grunts who acted like their charges were more like clan nobles than suspects under investigation. With roars and hands on their weapons they made their way through the crowds to the six seats assigned to them.
Two matches took place that night; the first was not a battle but a contest between two tauren to see who was the stronger. Stripped to the waist the bulls competed against each other in contests of endurance where they had to hold up two rocks for as long as possible, then carry a third rock around as many laps of the ring as possible and lastly they had to use a pair of huge hammers to smash even bigger boulders into dust as quickly as possible.
To no ones surprise the winner was the shorter and stockier of the two competitors that one of the grunts told Zujin had won the last dozen contests, as the warlock watched the victor turned and nod to regal looking red haired troll female.
More to the expectations of the trio the second match was battle between four orcs and two ogres. All of the combatants wore heavy armour except one female orc who seemed to favour leather armour instead. As soon as the announcer yelled for combat to begin the she seemed to vanish, but the ogres were too focused on the three male orcs who were hacking into them moments after the announcer spoke.
Working together two of the orcs dismantled one of the ogres while the third merely seemed to be holding the other in place. Then it happened the female orc reappeared and her blades sliced through the giant creature, her blows were so fast her arms were a blur, the ogre was dead before it’s massive frame toppled over and collapsed into the sand. Varlet whooped and yelled in amazement as she watched this and when the orcs stood waving to the crowd she lent over to Zujin and said loudly over the cheers “I want to be like her.”
Ther events of that night which took place after their trip to the Ring of Valour however destroyed Zujin’s fledgling faith in this new horde. It started with Virg’all and his grunts being reassigned and replace by some much more standoffish ones. Then an agent came to the house and began to question Nasanda very aggressively asking her the same questions over and over again, each time he seemed to get more and more worked up.
For her part Nasanda was confused by his attitude and frequently looked to Zujin for help, which seemed to anger the orc even more. Then three of the new grunts entered with another agent. The interrogator looked at his colleague.
“Everything is ready,” the new agent stated.
As if a switch had been thrown the three grunts leapt at Zujin and Varlet, one held her down while two pinned him to the wall. At the same time the agents restrained Nasanda and once the grunts had nodded that the young warlock and his sister were secure they hauled her off into the night.
That was the last time Zujin saw her.
* * *
The silence in which the huge bones lifted into the air to form into the Avatar of Hakkar would have been very intimidating to everyone in the chamber. Except for the fact that two of the beings that looked on the monster had access to even greater evil than the skeletal construct.
“Oh great Avatar of the blood god,” Screamed the troll high priest and ran towards it. “Your temple has been invaded and your loyal followers murdered and force to summon you before the chosen time, we implore you slay these vile heretics.”
“Cute,” the smaller Shadow/orc said to its larger kin, then with a motion of its hand sent a volley of a dozen shadows bolts at the trolls.
Every one of the trolls was hit by a bolt from the volley and they died engulfed in black fire. As they died the Avatar of Hakkar seemed to recognize the danger it was in and with a massive thrust of its fleshless wings it propelled itself upwards. The second before its skull would have smashed into the ceiling it turned and dived towards the Shadow/orcs. The pair did not move but merely looked up as the monster bore down on them.
As soon as the trolls had died however tentacles of magic had flown out from the shard lattice and attached themselves to the dead trolls. The bodies seemed to pulse the same violet colour as the shards and then vanished. With the trolls gone the tentacles surged upwards and caught the Avatar just as it opened its mouth to bite the smaller Shadow/orc in two.
The chamber was filled with the roars of rage from the avatar as it thrashed about trying to free itself from the tentacles. The shard lattice and its appendages began to glow brighter the more the skeleton fought however draining the magical power from it. Then the roaring was slowly drowned out by the sound of demonic laughter.
“You have done extremely well Bazzog,” a powerful and altogether evil voice announced as the spectre of the Dread Lord appeared next to the Lattice. “Now finish the ritual and complete the ritual.”
“Uncle,” Varlet said weakly. “But your dead.” She looked at the smaller Shadow/orc in disbelief.
“Ah my dear young niece,” Bazzog mocked. “Your half right after your brother’s betrayal the dragons did indeed kill all of us. Of course I and your father took a good number of them down before we finally fell. But then we have a powerful ally now don’t we,” he said indicating the spectral demon who smiled at the helpless orc girl. “He infused both of us with dark magic, this not only kept us alive but gave us more power than your traitorous brother would ever have dreamed off.”
“Zujin is no traitor, he did what he had to save me from you demon worshiping zealots.” Varlet spat back.
“You mean he was,” Bazzog smiled and looked back at the body of his nephew. “And what about you Varlet all grown up I see and in to such a fine specimen of a female too. From what Vasu told me that orc there is your mate, I wonder what you father thinks of him, well Zhain?”
The helmet of shadow magic on the large orc seemed to be absorbed into the rest of the armour and Jarax was pulled towards a face that was as big as his torso. Zhain studied him for a moment then sneered.
“Looks like a runt to me,” the huge orc commented.
“Well there you have it, sadly you have once again proved a disappointment to your father.” Bazzog shook his head in mock sympathy then he removed a blade from his belt. “This is the ‘Dragons Talon’ and it will take the innocent soul within you and finally bring our ally through to this world fully.
With his face ginning in victory the accident half demonic warlock stepped towards his helpless niece and raised the ‘Dragons Talon’ above his head. Varlet look of absolute hatred met his of ecstatic zeal as he brought the blade down.
And then the shard lattice exploded into a thousand pieces.
* * *
The light blazed through the window on to his face waking him from his restless sleep. Slowly opening his eyes Zujin looked about the room. Varlet was curled up on a large chair with his heavy cloak over her, even while asleep she still looked upset. Climbing to his feet Zujin realized he had slept in his clothes.
His half awake mind told him something was wrong but he could not figure out what it was. So he stretched his arms out to their full length and yawned, before he moved through to the kitchen still trying to figure out what was different. Out through the back door Zujin blinked in annoyance at the sun light as he made his way to a small lake near the house, kneeling down at its edge he splashed the cool water in his face.
As the water hit his face everything came back to him, the questioning, the new grunts assigned to guard them and Nasanda’s ‘arrest’. Had he not been kneeling on the ground when the memory came back to him Zujin was sure his legs would have given way, instead he slumped back on his knees and roared in anger and lost into the sky, then fell quiet.
He filled a bowl up with water he carried it back to the house for Varlet it was then he realised what else was different about the house, the Grunts were gone, there was no one guarding the house. The front door was open and an orc stood over his sister. The newcomer looked up and saw Zujin staring at him in an extremely hostile way.
“Easy there Warlock,” the newcomer said and slowly held out a string bound letter. “I’m just here to deliver this.”
Zujin snatched the letter out of the newcomer’s hand. “Get out,” he ordered. Once the door was closed and they were alone again Zujin opened the letter.
“The investigation into your actions has been concluded; you and your sister have been found innocent of any wrong doing and are therefore released on your own recognisance. Please vacate the house your are occupying by first light tomorrow.” The letter read, at the bottom was the symbol of a shattered hand.
Varlet woke up now long after, Zujin gave her the bowl of water and told her what the letter said as she still could not read. She listened quietly and then pleaded with him to take her away from Orgrimmar as she no longer felt safe. Though he was loathed to do so as it would make finding out what happened to Nasanda difficult Zujin understood that his first priority was to keep his sister safe. So that evening when they had packed up their meagre possession they walked out of the main gates to the city and just as he had done to his own clan Zujin turned his back on this ‘new’ horde.
* * *
“No!!!” Bazzog roared as the lattice that he had so carefully kept safe for all those years was destroyed.
His voice however was drowned out by the sound of the Avatar as the magic tentacles now without an anchor ripped its weakened form apart. Huge bones each the size of a wagon were hurled through the air like twigs. Zhain had to throw himself to sideways in order to avoid the Avatars skull from crushing him.
However as bad as the bones were they were nothing compared to the violet tentacles that were filled with the magic and power of the Avatar. They lashed about the chamber scorching the walls, floor and ceiling where ever they touched. The tip of the largest of them swung down from the roof where it had left a deep gouge towards Zhain. The huge orc did not see it bearing down on him as he climbed to his feet.
At the last moment he saw the danger and spun to position his chest ‘plate’ the strongest part of his armour in its path. The tentacle vanished in an explosion of black and violet light while Zhain was knocked down onto his knees, he had survived the most powerful blow of his long life and lived, but his armour was badly damage; the darkness around his arms and legs seemed thinner and he could no longer summon his helmet.
Bazzog had suffered from the tentacles too, a number of the smaller ones had locked onto him as a possible new anchor and lashed out. He threw up all his defences and successfully stopped them from draining his powers but he had had to tap into the deepest pools of his magic to do so. Breathing heavily the warlock looked to see the Dread Lord who stood over the destroyed lattice its face a mask of rage and Zhain slowly climb to his feet, somehow smaller than he had been before.
Then everyone, Bazzog, Jarax, Zhain and Nyako spotted something that was totally impossible standing in front of a massive impact crack in the far wall was Zujin. Not seeming to notice or care about the eyes on him Zujin carefully brushed some of the dust off his shoulder and stepped out of the crater in the floor where his ‘dead’’ body had once been.
“Not possible,” Bazzog said his voice barley above a whisper.
In response to his uncle protest Zujin reached into his robes and produce and empty spere which he threw across the room. Bazzog caught it and stared at it incredulously, beside him the Dread Lord laughed.
“A Soul Stone,” it commented. “It appears your nephew has learnt a few new tricks of his own Bazzog.” It pointed out the obvious.
“Traitor!” screamed Zhain and charged towards his son summoning his axes. Zujin spun on his heels and thrust and empty hand out towards his father.
To everyone’s amazement, not least Zhain’s the huge orcs body seemed to become out of focus and blurred by some sort of barrier. Despite his struggles Zhain could not move any part of his body below his neck.
“That’s the problem with basing your spells on shadow magic; it is so easily countered with a simple banish spell,” Zujin told his father with a shake of his head. “Now for you, uncle.” He snarled turning to face Bazzog.
“Give it your best shot Zujin,” Bazzog replied. “You have no idea of the power that I have at my disposal.”
Zujin pulled a crystal from his bag and seemed to squeeze it, for a moment it glowed and then Krakthak Zujin’s Voidwalker was summoned. Bazzog’s shadow arm seemed to become darker as the two warlocks pulled in all the magical energy left over from the shard lattice’s destruction.
The barrier holding Zhain in place faded away and he once again charged at Zujin. But there was a brief blur of motion on his left and his feet were take out from under him. He slammed down on the floor and an instant later was on his feet again staring at Jarax who had used his axe to trip the large orc up.
“Lets try this again,” Jarax smiled and swung his axe a full 360 degrees in front of him. “What do you say, runt?”
“Alright then if your so eager to die,” Zhain roared and swung one of his axes at Jarax’s head.
Jarax diverted the larger orcs blow away with a counter swing from his own axe. As a result Zhain had to step forward to avoid falling, however as he did so Jarax moved forward and brought his weapon into Zhain’s left side. If it had not been for the shadow armour Jarax’s axe would have scored a mortal blow but instead the attack was absorbed and failed to do any damage.
Or at first that was what Jarax thought, but as he blocked a low strike from Zhain he spotted that his shadow armour had become thinner in the very spot where he had hit him. The former sergeant realized that his opponent’s magical protection was no longer able to sustain itself.
Zhain’s blows came thick and fast pushing Jarax back across the room away from where the two warlocks now duelled. Jarax however found that the speed of his giant opponent was no longer that of a supernatural creature but that of a seasoned warrior who had seen many battles.
His agility he suddenly seemed to show amazed even Jarax himself as he ducked attacks that would have removed his head and then in the next instant jumping over another that was aimed at his knees. But he had been in too many fights not to realise that his luck and agility would only last so long. Then as he blocked an attack to his torso Jarax managed to parry and then in a swift counter blow he sliced off Zhain’s right hand.
It did not surprise Jarax to see that no blood came out of such a devastating wound. Instead he saw that under Zhain’s skin was the same magical energy that made up his armour. Though Jarax was shocked to see that the magic grew his foe a new hand and in moments it was as if nothing had happened. Zhain saw Jarax’s face and smirked before resuming his attack.
The blow that finally got through Jarax’s defense was not from Zhain’s weapons but from his left foot. It came out of nowhere and slammed into the smaller orc’s side sending him flying. Zhain wasted no time and moved in for the kill he reached down so as to pin Jarax to the floor, then he raised his free arm high into the air the magical axe ready to take Jarax’s head off.
Then Nyako was there screaming the frostwolf battle cry as she leapt onto Zhain’s exposed back. Jarax could only watch as his friend stabbed her old army issue dagger between the huge orc’s shoulder blades. Roaring in annoyance rather than pain Zhain forgot about Jarax and jumped to his feet, his hands reaching back wildly to get a grip on the young troll.
She held on for as long as she could and twisted her dagger one way then another in an attempted to do maximum damage. But he got a hold of her and in one powerful movement Zhain pulled her over his head and smashed her into the floor and followed up with two heavy blows to her chest, Nyako’s body flopped like a rag doll under them and then remained still.
“Damn you!!” Jarax bellowed and charged the monster with renewed vigour and hate.
He was not alone in his charge however, Saku was with him. Having discovered his gun was broken by the blast from Bazzog the hunter had once again drawn his claws. The three orcs collided together in a fury of axe swings, raking claws, and war cries. Zhain held his own against the pair until something happened that neither he nor Jarax expected; Saku lost control for the second time.
Once more the primal anger and power filled the hunter so completely that his body had to respond to its demands. Suddenly Towering above Zhain was the tiger avatar of Saku’s rage, now it was the large orc that was on the defensive. But that defence failed even quicker than Kitti’s as Jarax swung his axe low and with enough force to shatter Zhain’s kneecap and virtually remove his leg.
Now it was Zhain who collapsed backward onto the ground, before he could regain his feet a huge paw slammed down on his chest. The tiger above him looked down with what seemed to be a sneer of contempt, and then Zhain’s vision was filled with a very angry Jarax. Without a word Jarax lifted his axe and in one stroke removed Zhain’s unprotected head.
Not even the shadow magic that was infused into Zhain could repair such wound even if it had been at full strength. As it was the last of the magic seeped out of the body leaving an empty dried up shell. Exhausted Jarax and Saku, who had once again regained control moved quickly over to where Nyako, they both knew that the duel that was still going on between Zujin and Bazzog was something they could take no part in.
* * *
At exactly the same time as Jarax tripped Zhain, Bazzog sent a powerful shadow bolt at his nephew. In response Zujin threw up a magical ward specifically meant to counter shadow magic as a result Bazzog’s attack fizzled out before it even hit the younger warlock.
Even as the bolt’s energy was drained Zujin cast his own spell at his uncle, Bazzog was stunned as he felt a searing pain exploding in his chest. Spiting out the words he immolated Zujin and smiled as his nephew suddenly ignited in fire for a moment. Zujin snarled and cast and immolate of his own.
The two warlocks then exchanged spells which would hurt each other over time, then as their face grimaced in agony and corrupted black fluid seeped out of their wounds they began to blast at each other again.
Zujin took two shadow bolts on the chest before he threw some of his own. The first caught his uncle in the left hip and then the second burned into his right shoulder. Both warlocks were hurt by the exchange but more so Bazzog, for Krakthak seemed to be suffering from the exact same wounds as its master.
“You have found a way to link with your summoned demon.” Bazzog commented. “That is impressive. But it won’t save you,” As he hurled a shadow bolt that was even bigger than both him and Zujin towards his nephew.
Varlet screamed in horror as she watched her brother consumed by the shadow magic and Bazzog laughed in victory. But both reactions were premature as the magic dissipated and Zujin was standing there untouched by the attack. Surrounding the younger warlock was a glowing shield of green glyphs.
“My soul link was never meant to safe me uncle, just give my spell stone time to absorbed the magic it needed.” Zujin stated. “Now lets see just how much power you do have.” And he began to walk towards Bazzog.
The older Warlock hurled bolt after bolt towards his younger kin but each time his attacks were absorbed by the shield. Bazzog spat curses out at the self-righteousness of Zujin as he continued his advance. After three of the most powerful bolts that Bazzog had ever conjured the glowing green glyphs flickered and vanished, but Zujin kept coming.
Seizing his chance Bazzog pulled in all the magic he could so much so that every one else felt the chamber grow cold. Then with one last effort he threw the swirling mass of Shadow energy towards Zujin. It was only a hairs breadth away when Krakthak seemed to utter a sign of relief and fade form the world, the energy from his form surround Zujin in yet another shield that shone brightly as the bolt connected with it.
Then the two Warlocks were face to face and Zujin had his weapon drawn. Bazzog was defenceless as his nephew removed his shadow leg from his body. For a moment the old warlock swayed before gravity suddenly realized that he was no longer balanced, he toppled to the floor. Zujin raised his sword again and removed his magical arm and then stepped back from the crippled form that lay on the stone floor.
“Damn you Zujin, all the power the legion could have had, how could you turn your back on it?” Bazzog asked. “You could have led the shadow council.”
“The price was too high,” Zujin shrugged and he squatted close to his uncle.
“One soul, was that so much?” his uncle quizzed
“It is when it was Varlets yes,” Zujin replied. “And it would not just of been her soul but my own as well, you would have made us nothing more than slaves. Just look at yourself uncle how is being bound to the will of a demon freedom.”
Bazzog was unable to reply to his nephew as finally after many long years death finally claimed him. Zujin stood up and looked at the others, Saku tended to the groaning Nyako while Jarax freed Varlet. His gaze locked with that of the phantom form of the Dread Lord.
“Well played young Warlock,” it said smoothly. “But this is not over; we will see each other again rest assured of that.”
“Just go away.” Zujin tiredly told the vanishing demon.
It was over…
* * *
Varlet cheered and ran about happily in the inn at the small outpost called Razor Hill. They had just stopped in to pick up supplies for their small farm house that was just to the north. Though they did not actually farm anything there it was a place for Zujin to continue his studies and for Varlet to feel safe.
Zujin was sitting at a table eating a meal just prepared by the innkeeper when three orcs came over. It was sergeant Virg’all and two of the grunts that had guarded them during their time in Orgrimmar. Varlet looked at him and then moved over to her brother for protection.
“What do you want?” Zujin said coldly.
“Please Zujin we did not know about what the Hand had planed for you,” Virg’all said. “I am truly sorry.” He apologised the other two orcs nodded in agreement.
“You have not answered my question.” Zujin replied his tone had not changed.
“We are here to make amends for being unable to help you in Orgrimmar.” Virg’all explained. “We have someone with us that we think could help you find the answers you are seeking.”
“And what makes you think I am seeking any answers?”
“Because the young are always seeking answers,” answered a new voice.
Virg’all and the two grunts stepped to the side and a tall female troll moved to the seat that had been occupied by Varlet. She sat down and flattened a crease in her robes before looking at them both.
“My name is Hecavria and I believe we are both in a position to help one and other.” The troll smiled at him.
* * *
The four friends reached the top of the Zeppelin tower and turned to face each other as they waited for the dirigible. It was slowly floating towards the dock where the goblins on both the structure and airship where preparing to secure it to the dock.
“I just can’t believe that this is it,” Nyako commented her eyes filling with tears, Varlet moved forward and hugged her as the Zeppelin was tied to the dock
“We’ll see each other again,” Varlet assured her friend as the tears started rolling down both their cheeks.
“But it will never be the same,” Nyako replied.
The goblin crew called for passengers to now begin boarding. Varlet stepped back from Nyako and gave Jarax a kiss on the cheek before moving of to the gangplank leaving the three of them alone.
Silence settled on them as they each searched for the words to say goodbye. They had been through so much, battles, victories, exile and the death of comrades and friends.
“Well Sergeant say hello to you family for me and remember to keep your squad in line,” Jarax told Nyako.
“I will sir,” Nyako saluted Grom’gol’s newest Stone Guard.
“I bet you will.” Jarax laugh and pulled her in to a massive hug. “You take care of yourself kiddo.” Then he looked at Saku and was once again at a loss for words.
Saku smiled and held out his hand, the two friends shook firmly with out saying a word suddenly then Saku laughed thumped him on the side of the head.
“God Jarax you’re my best friend but you’re so dumb sometimes,” the hunter laughed. “Now get on the ship before it leaves you behind.”
Unsure about what had just happened Jarax picked up his bag and boarded the ship looking back to see Saku whisper something to Nyako whose face lit up at what ever it was he told her.
As the airship pulled away Varlet and Jarax waved to their friends until they were out of sight. Then quietly they moved to the bow with his arm around her and her head resting against him.
“Umm… Varlet,” Jarax began.
“Yes,” she said as if she knew what his question would be.
“There is something that has been bugging me since the temple,” he told her.
“What is that?” Varlet asked her smile growing wider.
“Well, Zujin told me that to give the Dread Lord that Avatar’s power they needed to use a young and ‘innocent’ soul, and while you are young, well your not that… umm… you know.”
“Innocent,” she finished for him. “Your right I’m not that innocent anymore,” then she took his hand and placed it on her slightly swollen belly. “But they are.”
“Wha..” he began and then understood what she meant. “You mean… you’re actually…” Varlet nodded and laughed. Jarax wrapped his arms around her and they kissed as the ship quietly moved through the clouds.
* * *
It had taken weeks for the trolls to regain control of the temple and recover the bodies of their fallen kin. But amoung them they had found a body that interested them a great deal. Vasu’s body was repaired and prepared for reanimation, as it would be a fitting punishment for the orc who had caused them so much hardship to serve the troll priests as a mindless undead slave.
They were preparing for the final rituals the body was marked all that was needed was for the final symbol on the forehead. As the elderly witch doctor moved to place it however Vasu’s eyes burst open in a fury of black fire.
His had grabbed the troll and with a twist broke its neck and then he was up on his feet. The witch doctor’s assistant looked for a moment in horror before running for the door. With a flick of his hand Vasu slammed the troll into the wall on the far side and held him there.
“Help!” the troll screamed and more of its kin poured into the room surrounding Vasu. With a large grin on his face Vasu vanished in and explosion of Black fire that incinerated everyone in the room.
High above the swamp Vasu reappeared floating in the air, stretching his new body the Dread Lord looked out over the world. Though his plan had not gone the way he had hoped, his strength had always been in his ability to adapt Thanks to the residual magic and the trolls skill at repairing dead bodies he had finally escape his prison.
Now finally free the demon looked over the world filled with dragons, giants, undead, not to mention the horde and the alliance. Oh yes there was so much havoc he could wreak here.
“Well Azeroth, its show time,” the demon whispered with an evil smile.
The End.