Chapter 1: The Heart of Darkness
Lord DeFace hade ended the Face Eater, or at least that was what Master Demonvoice hoped. At it's end the soul eating being had started to claw at the old warlocks mind. If it had not been for the Den's master and the warrior Bloodfang Burgrsch would have became it's slave for all time. Instead the old orc was free and ready to creat his most powerfull artifact of power yet.
As any son of the Blood Blade Clan he knew the power of blood. It was said the a beings spirit imprinted on it's blood. The blood was the essens of all things that lived, in it laid the power of the spirit and body. In other words if one was to drink the blood of a demon that demon would leave a part of himself in the one that drank. Thos Hellsream have freed the orcs by killing the demon.
But the trade did not only favor the one giving the blood. The power the drinker would gain was immense. And only a handfull of creaturs could rule there blood. Only two came to the old orcs mind, demons and dragons. And even then they could only rule to a small extenct. So all he needed was the blood of a powerfull being that was neither.
And thos he had seen to it that three Vrykul had been captured taken to the Den's laboratory. Two was males and one female, there blood was draind slowly from there bodys so that they would not die. The old orc planed to drain blood from them and mix it for a long time forward and thos had no intress in killing them.
Once he had a mixure of there blood he filterd it through the Heart of Gul'dan. The old orc recalled the day he and a few of his fellow Den members had taken it. Lord DeFace, Bloodfang, himself and Vancha had killed Cyrukh the Firelord at the Alter of Damnation and he had taken the heart. It's power was now his and inreturn for geting it for him the Den would be given the power of a blood elixer.
It was at last done and it was time to test it. The older turned to a pair of the Den's thralls. And orderd them to bring the labrats. They did as comanded and tossed a gnome at the feet of the old one. The littel pest begged for mercy, pleeding to be relessed. Burgrsch payed him no mind, and forced a poiton of the elixer in to the gnome.
At first noting happend. Then the gnome started to shake and grow. His eyes became the lifeless blue of a Scourge slave. As he grew his flesh turned gray and the smell of death started to flow from his mouth.
"Blast!" mutterd the old one and cast his most powerfull spells at the beast turing him in to ash.
"Shall we bring the other labrat master?" asked one of the thralls.
"No... The formula is incomplet... I need something more... The power is there but to taited by the Lich King..." said the old warlock but to himself more then to the thralls. "I have no use for you! Leave!"
As they did Master Burgrsch Demonvoice thougth to himself. What could I use to conter the power of death that the Lich King has placed in this beings. What has that much power over life?
Chapter 2: Mama Kaz'kah council
Days later far from the Den's laboratory a young half-orc shaman walked through the quagmire of Dustwallow Marsh. She had been walking for a long time, looking for a troll hut that was said could only be found by thos whom it's owner welcomed. Dusk layed heavy over the damp and dark marshes. Ximrana was about to give up her search when she saw it.
Hiden in the shadow of a great swamp tree a wooden troll hut stood. Around it a great number of dark totems where placed. Right next to the hut there was a small stone idol of a Loa. Haning from the hut where skulls of many beings, among them humen, troll and dragonspwan. Ximrana guessed that the skulls had belonged to unwelcomed visitors.
"Ye be stanin' there all nigh' or ye be comin' in mon?" said a voice that sounded so ancient that the half-orc half expected a ghost to meet her inside the hut. Instead there was a old troll female. She was dressed like a witch doctor but the walls where cowerd whit shamanic relics. The romurs where true after all.
"Are you Mama Kaz'kah?" Ximrara asked.
"Ye be meetin' many crazy old troll mama's, eh?" was Mama Kaz'kah's answer and looked up at the half-orc. One of her eyes where blind but it still seamed to look right in to her guest.
"Ye dady be a great best. He be in need of ye help tho... Why ye come here mon?"
"I have had odd visions... The masters in Ogrimmar can't understand them."
"Ha! Them 'masters' be dumb zelots! They think it not our place to mix mojo's! They say it sin to mix voodoo whit spirits! What they know! I be older and wiser then all of em. Ye tell mama what ye saw."
"I have seen... I have seen a orc warlock... He seamed happy about something... But he wanted something from me. It almost seamed like he wanted to mate whit me... I also saw my mother, but she is alive... My father brought her back..."
"Ye father did not know what he be bringin', but it not be her truely. Tha warlock be free of something, a spirit eatar. But he also be scared, he fear tha eater becoming back. So he want ye to protect him."
"How would I..."
"Mama show ye. But now I most tell ye this mon. Ye dady be doing whery risky voodoo, if he faile greatly it be bad. Bad for all he love. Ye most ask him send for a red dragon bone. Do this and I show you how to take up spirits in ye self and protect em."
"Wait... My mother is not alive... My father lied to me?" Ximrana was at the brink of tears. Mama Kaz'kah did not pay that much mind.
"Yea, he be bad orc. But if he faile we all be knee deep in raptor shit! Ye most help ye dady. Do this and I be helpin' you save ye mama, oke docky?"
"Yes... I'll help my father... But only for the knowlage you can give me."
Mama Kaz'kah grined and said: "Good mon... Now go, bring back dragon bones! I have great mojo to prepare."
Chapter 3: Bone Totems
Ximrana had resived the bones of a long dead red dragon in a letter from her father. In it he also told her that her mother had died once again. The young shaman did not fully trust her father. Could the old warlock had killed her mother? Or had whatever foul magic he had used to bring her back lead to her second death? Whit thos qvestions in her heart she traveled to Mama Kaz'kah's hut.
As she approach the old trolls home she found a trail of dark blood leading towards the Witch Docters hut. The trail seamed to start somewhere in the lands ruled by the black dragonspwan. And it ended at the old trolls hut, or rather out side of it. Where a dead dragonspwan female layed dead. Her body ripped and cut in to pices. The half-orc could only imagen what Mama Kaz'kah had done whit the dead creature.
"Ah... Ye be bringing tha bones?" asked the old troll as Ximrana enterd her hut. This time the hut was full of fumes from a giant cauldron in which something that looked like the blood, fleash and bones from the dead dragonspwan outside boiled.
"Qvestions later mon! Now give me tha bones!" Ximrana handed Mama Kaz'kah the five bones, or rather bone fragments as the bones where from a massive beast. The old troll held the bones like they where honourd relics of a time long lost. As she did she closed her eyes and mutterd in the toung of the trolls. The half-orc belived it was a prayer to a Loa and the spirits.
"This be good mon..." She said and pulled out a dark ritual dagger and handed both it and the bones to Ximrana. "Ye most cut the right runes in to 'em mon."
"But what are the right runes?"
"Tha dead will know... Here drinkin' this will let 'em join ye mind." as the old troll said that last she gave Ximrana a blow of what most have been the blood of the dead dragonspwan.
Ximrana hesitated to drink, after all blood had once doomed her kind. It could do so again. "Drink or cure ye mom for al time! Ye choice mon..."
The young shaman drank and as she did the trans fell over her. She had been in trans many times as a shaman, but not like thins. This time she did not enter the world of the elements but a world of shadows.
In this world all was gray and cowerd in black shadows. But from somewhere behind her came a bright light. No, not from behind her. It was her, she was the light. She was living in a world of death. Standing next to her was her mother, just as she rememberd her. And there was the dark orc warlock and a orc female. The orc female was her half-sister, she did not know how she knew but she did.
It was as if the dead spoke to her whit out words. And thos she felt there needs, there need to return in someway. Even if it only meant they would be her tools they had to return. The young shaman told them that she would grant there wish and bind there spirits to hers, but if she was to do that she would need there help.
She heald out the five bones and they understode. Her mother touch one of them and runes came in to being on it. The other two touched two of the bones and again runes made themselfs on it's surface. Then all of the three spirits touched the bone her mother had given runes and the world fell in on itself.
Ximrana woke whit a jerk and the world seamed to be spining. In her hands all of the bones where cowerd in runes. The old troll looked at them and noded. And then she smeared the dragonspwan potful on the bones.
"Ye did good mon... Thre' spirits, not many get so many first time." the old troll put four of the bone totems in a pail and the fifth she gave to Ximrana.
"Now it be time ye payed... Ye have to pay whit blood and pain... Ye ready mon?"
"Will my mother be whit me after I pay?"
"Yea mon... She be whit ye in spirit always... Ye ready?"
Then whit out warning the old troll leap on to the half-orc. Ripped open her cest armor and cut her whit a ritual dagger. Once she had cut a narrow opening in the screaming Ximrana she pulled the skin and fleash aside and pressed the fifth dragon bone in to the wound. Once in the troll layed the skin and flesh on the bone so that it was nearly cowerd. Then Mama Kaz'kah mutterd a shamanic healing prayer. The wound closed and Ximrana stoped screaming.
"They be wit ye now mon... Now and always!" said the old troll and handed the young shaman the four bone totems. "Give this to ye dady. He will figer 'em out, trust me."
A number of hours later when Ximrana had gone the old troll came out of her hut. She was naked and cowerd whit the dragonspwan potful. Outside her hut she fell to her knees befor something that to a untrained eye might look like a Loa. But it was something ells, something older and far more dark.
"It be done my master... It be done..."
Chapter 4: Harmony of Life and Death
In it's cage the rat Burgrsch had tested the North Blood Elixer on eat the nightsaber that the old orc had sent in to kill it. It was working, it realy was working. The side effects where not dire anymore.
After the Den's fall Burgrsch had almost belived his pet project lost forever. But luckely for him he had moved the three Vrykul to his more personal lab close to the Blood Blade Tribes Homestead. The thrio would die of corse as he did not have the equipment needed to keep them alive. Not that it would matter! There where more of there kind in Northrend, and in time he might even find away to creat the elixor whit out the use of there blood.
At first his creation had only been a poison. A poison that made the one whom drank it in to a enraged mutant undead. If said beasts had been under the Lich Kings controll was still a mysteri the old warlock. Mostly becose he had seen to it that all thos subjects where killed at once. But now, thanks to the aid of his duaghter, he had the weapon he wanted!
The heart of Gul'dan gave it power, the blood gave it the rage of the dead and the four totems made from red dragon bone gave it clearity of life! All elements worked as one to creat a harmoy, a harmoy of life and death. Armed whit this the Horde would at long last triumphant. He had tested it on himself once, his mind had becom clear. There had been no dubt, on guilt, on remors. There had only been what he intended to do and how he would do it.
There was however a few side effects. He had found himself draind once the elixer stoped working, feeling as if he had aged years in the handfull of houres that had past. And some of the rats he had given the elixor had acted... cocky. To cocky... They had mocked there foes, playing whit them rather then killing them and had died as a result. Others had gone mad or tryed to kill themselfs.
What the elixor needed was a field test.
Chapter 5: The Song of Blades and Blood
Burgrsch was lost to the red hot rage and joy of combat. The North Blood Elixer had given him a need to rend flesh and turn bone to ash! It was glorious to see the weak, pathetic and mindless slaves of the Lich King die in the hunderds around him and the small band of Northwind mercenary's.
Befor going to the ruins of Andorhal, the old warlock had almost turned on one of the Companys own members. A young blood elf priestess that seamed to belive she had the right to judge him! It had taken all his will power not to kill the pup called Azytha once the elixer had taken hold of him. But even then the power of the elixer made him feel like a god.
Now that power and the joy of leting his need to end life made his spirit fly. His fel magics had never been this strong. His aim had never been so perfect and his blood pumped in him as if every heartbeat would be the least. All that he was, was at that moment perfected. In the haze of bloodlust he noted that this feeling might well make addicts of thos whom felt it.
Not far from the old orc, the troll warrior Zinzairniax ripped the undead beasts apart whit both weapon, tusks and bare hands. Blood, guts and other slimy parts of the dead colored his body and weapon. He seamed to enjoy the act of killing as much as the old orc loved protecting his kin. Roaring like a wild animal he cast himself on to a abomination and split open the monsters head whit a singel blow.
Not far from the troll and orc holy fire fleard to life and turned the dead to ashes. Glowing whit a faint golden light Salice, drove the dead befor his mighty blade. In his mind the screaming and runing dead seamed to move as through mud. There actions where slowed and clumsy and thos attacking and destroying them in great numbers where no macth for the skilled paladin.
The elixer seamed to make all things go easyer, his armour felt as if it was made of cloth. The shilde seamed to bethere to block all attacks of it's own accord. And his blade, his blade had never danced whit such ease, leaving severd limbs in its path. And in his heart he could feel a great rage fuel his attacks.
Váncha had not taken any of the elixer. And thos he fougth like he always did. Whit out mercy, regret or consideration for his comrads. He had leaft his great battle ax in the outskirts of Andorhals ruins. Ergo he fought whit his bare hands when the Lich Kings slaves was not killed my his goul slave or his pluage magics. But he had just seen it, standing whit part of the ax-head buryed in the ground.
Ripping it from the earth the death knight could feel the runes apown it whisper as a lover to him. Whit it in his hands he rejoind the battel whit renews seal. The hate of his former master taking form in the death of this his mindless slaves. One day, he woved to himself, there master would teast his ax bite.
Demon fire, the holy light, pluage magics and the blades song mixed in to a song of combat and death! A song heard all over the ruins of the once mighty human town. But like all songs, even thos of blood and blades, most have a end. And so the four fighters leaft the blod corwed grounds. The test was over.
The elixer was successful. It would be a weapon the company could sell, and use themselfs. It would be a weapon of the Horde. Master Burgrsch Demonvoice was pleased, his hard work had payed of at last.
Chapter 6: Rage of the North
"Dish be ya newest broutha!"
The old orc could not help but smile at his new leaders words. It had been a long time seans he had been looked apown whit that sort of respect. He could hardly recall when he had resived this level of respect last.
The old orc saluted his fellow members of the Company. And exused himself, after all he had work to do. He had taken his most powerfull creation the North Blood Elixer whit him when leaving the Northwind. It was now time to sell it.
Sky-Reaver Krom Blackscar did not like dealing whit warlocks. But the orders in his hands where kristel clear, Overlord Hellscream comanded that the creation of this warlock be used no the Scourge.
In his other hand Blackscar held a small vail of "North Blood Elixer" the old orc had called it. According to the old one it would make any whom drank it become a raging killing machine that would not relent untill all foes befor him was dead. Now only one qvestion remaind, where... Where sould he unleas the destroctiv powers of the Elixer.
"Where would you strike old one?" Krom asked the aging warlock.
"The mindless undead are endless in number. Killing a milion of them would not harm the Lich King greatly... However... The Gigants of Ymirheim... There numbers are limeted, and it takes years to replace a dead Vrykul." resond Burgrsch.
"Aye! And you, and your fellows could kill of a number of Alliance dogs when your at it!" snarled Krom. "Good, speak to your masters warlock! We have a deal! Your elixer will be put to use in the war! And in return the Offensive will pay you a grand sume of gold..."
"As you comand Sky-Reaver..." the old warlock replayed bowing low.
As Burgrsch Demonvoice leaft, he could not help but drool over the potantial treasure of blood. Unkown to the Sky-Reaver the chief ingridient in the elixer was blood from the Vrykul. Now all that he needed was to get Zen'jan to agree to take the contract.
The old orc looked out on to Venture Bay. His meeting whit Niabi, the young druidess had been utherly disgusted by his dark magic's. It had awoken feelings of melancholy in Burgrsch. It was not that long ago that he had sworn never to use the fel arts again.
He had planed to wait for the sprits to return to him once more. But they had never come... In there stead the cursed Admiral Proudmoore had come. The old warlock had seen no other way to deffend his land and allies from the human invaders but to take up the dark arts once more.
And now... now it was far to let for him to turn back. Master Burgrsch Demonvoice knew that he was as bound to his demon slaves as they where to him. And one day they would take great pleasure in twisting his spirit in to something foul and evil. But ontill that day the old orc would do all he could to aid the Horde in it's struggels.
"Master... We sould return to the Hold." said the warlocks felguard.
"Yes... We still have work to do..." said the old orc.
"Ya be keepng dish ahway from dha Compahny! Undersude!"
The words of Zen'jan had cut deep. It was true, the elixir was dangerous. And it might well make addicts of over users, but the old orc had put so much in to this prodject. This would be a grand weapon of the Horde. Tho it in some ways could become a two edge sword.
A orc warrior had came looking for master Demonvoice. Offering willing test subjects, asking the elder to jet his anger and hate rule him. But Burgrsch remembered all to well thos sort of dark reasonings. For the great Master had also talked like that to his chosen.
The warlocks.... Following Gul'dan had cost Burgrsch his eyes, his eldest daughter, made his only son hate him and even the Horde itself had crumbled under his betrayal. The old one would not walk that path again! Never!
Yet.... to just cast it all a way? To give up this his last grand experiment... For it would be the last thing he created for anyone but himself.... That seamed like a wast... A meaningless wast...
At last things where in motion. The young druidess had agreed to aid the old orc in return for him trying to grant her total controll over her feral forms. It was no easy task, but Burgrsch was sure that his knowlage of magical energys and his understanding of the flow of magical power could help Naibi whit her problem.
As she hunted for volenters he hunted for a cure for the druidess. Reading texts on the matter and consulting the shamans of Orgrimmar the old one started to find some idea of how to do it.
It was clear that it would be best if they could enter the "Emeral Dream". That was another plan of existans. A plan of the mind, a place of dreams... and perhaps nightmears? And to do that they needed to find a barrow den that was not corrupted.
Also Burgrsch belived that the bone of a green dragon, the dragon kind most attunde to the druids, would help. He knew that his duagther Xímrana could make a dragon bone totem out of the bone if she was asked.
If all ells failed the purifing powers of a moon well and the power of the green dragons had to help...
But in the mean time Burgrsch ment to study the problem intently. And make sure that his project was completed in full!
Anyel was standing on the highest edge of Demon Fall Canyon. Dead demons were lying around him, their blood covering the dark grey ground, but killing them had done nothing to ease his mind. He could feel her presence, like an iron nail hammered into his temple. She had moved back to her old place in Stonetalon. Not too close, but close enough. The pain fueled the feeling of guilt, regret and anger. He had lived his whole life in the illusion that he wasn't in control. She had made it clear that wasn't the truth. All the choices he had ever made were his own. Katoka had said she knew this already. She didn't understand. He had noone but himself to blame. His mother hadn't screwed up his life, he had made that on his own. He was responsible.
Despite his increasing heart rate and the wave of nausea he looked down at the canyon bottom. He wondered if he would dare to take the jump. And if he did, would he chicken out in the last second, shielding himself with the Light? He didn't really want to find out the answer of any of it, but the urge was there, deep inside. He took a deep breath and turned around, making his way down the path again. He needed to get away from here, away from her. Burgrsch's letter had arrived at the right moment. He didn't know if Zenjan had anything to do with the mission, and he wasn't going to ask. He couldn't stay here. Besides, why would Niabi and Burgrsch go against Zenjan's will...?
The thought of Burgrsch's elixir also had moved into his head again. Daechir had said that time in Borean Tundra that everyone would loose respect for him if he tryed it out. Well, if they found out what he had done to his family and what he made Mori do they would loose whatever respect they had anyway. To get rid of all feelings. That would be something to top the bloodthistle with... He went out in the forests of Ashenvale, briefly hoping that that ally death knight would appear again. If he couldn't beat her this time, well, then he wouldn't give up until she finished him off.
Blood cowered the frozen ground of the city of Ymirheim. The group of Horde warriors ripping there way through the Vrykul ranks did not tire or stop. The old orc Burgrsch lead the way, drunk on the effects of his elixir.
His heart was singing whit the joy of having his magics, blade and even bear hands and teeth ripping the life from his enemies. Non could stand in his way, he was a living god. A god of death that had come to cast the Vrykul in to the darkness.
There "King" could not save them now! There "God" was a false one, and soon they would see that and despair!
Next to him Anyel moved like a pure force of destruction. There was no joy in his face, he did not scream his hate and ecstasy. He only did what the elixir told him to do. End the life's of his enemies, and in return it offered a form of bliss.
It toke all of his pain and locked it away. It only left a void, a hollow emptiness where all his pain was weakened ontill it seamed to have never existed.
Fitshace had also taken the elixirand the blood lust had taken him. A dark and simple feeling of a need to end life. It filled him whit a grim joy to see the powers of his attacks grow and the screams of horror that rose from the Vrykul. It was magnificent and soon the Alliance would know this horror as well.
Niabi looked on in disgust as her fellow warriors used there blades, magics and even there body's and teeth to kill whit out end. The enemy corpse's lied in pile's all over the city. And the old orc and the others did not slow. She cast a look over at Taumakk and even tho they where both in feral from there was something more the anmilistic fear in there eyes...
There was a deep concern for thos whom had taken the elixir. When would it's effects burn out?
Zinzairniax did battle side by saide whit the others. He did not cear about the elixir. He had tryed it once, it have not effected him much. Now he wondered why... He was a berserker and fought whit a great blood lust ruing through his veins by nature. But now even to old one, old and magic user tho he was, fought as much whit his blade and teeth was whit his spells.
The troll warrior shrugged the questions away and when on to kill the last standing Vrykul whit a single thrust of his speared. As the giant being fell to the ground the old orc looked around.
Then he saw it... Down a snow cowered trail it lied. The Alliance camp. The old one just pointed at it... The others grinned and they started down the mountain.
Soon there after screams of horror came from the Alliance camp...
The Warsong Offensives Head Alchemist inspected the box full of vials. He counted there numbers, uncorked one of then and smelt the content.
So this was it, the elixir that had caused the blood bath at Ymirheim. According to the reportseven the alliance base camp had been raided. Who the warriors who had done it was unknown to him. Nor did he care. The weapon had been delivered but not in the quantity he had expected.
He turned to face that black clothed orc. It was older then most orcs the forsaken Alchemist knew. But that was not of great consequence.
"Is this all there is? There's just under a 1000 does here!"
"Indeed... But that will be enough for the Offensive to win the war." was the answer the old orc offered.
"Hmm... If half of the report is true your right... any chans of you making more?"
"No! And make sure no warrior gets more then three doses!"
"That addictive huh? Don't worry, this will be our little ace when facing the Lich King and the human scum."
"Good..." the old orc turned to leave.
As the orc walked away the forsaken called after him: "Your gold will be delivered soon!"
But Burgrsch had no interest in that gold anymore. The only thing that mattered now was the fact that it was over. His creation would be used in the aid of the Hordes interests. Now he had a debt to repay.
They meet in one of the many druid Den's of the Moonglade.
The healing ritual went more or less like the old orc had expected. The young shaman gave him more then a bite of grief because he was a warlock. But Burgrsch was fairly use to that sort of treatment.
Hanouff was of great help in keeping order seeing as the paladin Anyel had come for some other reason then aiding in the ritual. Maybe he had come to be close to Katoka, the old one though.
Of coarse the idea of a elf and a orc sickened him. But on the other hand he had once loved a human female, so who was he to judge.
First Niabi was asked to chose one of the four dragon bone totems. She choose the cat totem, which was not much of a surprise. The young shaman then infused it whit the power of the spirit of the earth.
Then the paladin blessed it whit his power of the holy light. And lastly the druidess channeled the essensof her cat from in to the totem. When that was done only one thing remained.
It was not something that Burgrsch toke pleasure in, even tho Katoka seamed to think so. They had to put the totem in to Niabi's flesh, the paladin agreed to heal the wound. Even tho, it was clear that the holy light did not flow easily through him.
Hanouff held the druidess, the old one cut open her chest and pused in the totem. When the totem was in place Anyel healed to wound over the totem. The ritual had worked it seamed, and at last the old one could put it all behind him...
Or so he believed... For after the ritual was done the paladin screamed after him, as he was about to leave the Moonglade Den, that he needed the elixir. But that was something the old one would not give him, nor any whom believed they needed it.
The Old Orc
The fire was burning high. The old orc looked on as his minions trowed the last of his notes on to it. Now non could copy his work. His last dark creation would never be apart of his life again.
As he was done whit it all he saw to it that his lab was utterly destroyed. His powers over demons fire and slaves ripping it down. Smoke raised from the opening of the cavern near his tribes homestead.
As he left he was meet by them. His daughter Xímrana, his grand daughter Oga and her mate and there children. The worry clear on there face's.
"Elder, what happened, we saw the smoke and..." Gruark began. But Burgrsch silence him whit a raised hand.
"There is noting to worry about grand daughters mate. Things are as they should be now..." the old one removed his black mask and looked on his great grand children and had to smile. "Who wants to go fishing whit there aging great grandfather?"
Anyel remembered how it felt having the elixir running through his veins. The cold focus and the mindless rage, all at once, the adrenaline rush, the absent pain from the poisoned spears the vrykuls were throwing at them, as well as the pain from the Light flooding through him, fighting the poison and the wounds... It was an intoxicating sensation and in all the emptiness, he had felt at ease. Not happy, not satisfyed, but at ease. Whatever issues his heart had with reality, they were pushed aside, and he knew from first drop that he wanted more, he wanted to use it again.
When the effect wore off, the pain changed and his mind went numb, dull. Still, it was better than that black hole of despair that was eating his soul. He wanted more. And Burgrsch said no.
And in all honesty, he knew he couldn't live a life on drugs. But the alternative was... too painful.
The others knew something wasn't right and made their own kind of efforts to cheer him up. But he couldn't make himself believe in their words, couldn't explain the feeling of lost control to them. It had always been his own choices, but apparently he didn't know how to choose to do the right thing, and that scared him. He didn't trust himself anymore, didn't know who he was, where to turn. He didn't want to live this life any more. He felt sorry for Katoka. She didn't deserve all this. And he felt like he was betraying Zenjan and the others. But he couldn't move on. He'd lost the will.
The brown-furred tauren was leaning against a tree, taking her surroundings in while grimacing slightly – all these years and she was still disgusted by places like this. Foul trees dotted the landscape, their torn roots oozing some kind of Fel-infused liquid, not quite unlike the water that streamed past the camp. The horrible, omnipresent smell of rot, decay and corruption had her put her hand over her muzzle as she looked around. It was a strange sensation; to experience all these unnatural horrors without even responding properly. Alas, that was the way it felt to the druid, who'd nearly always been depending on entirely instinctual reactions. However, the soothing magic originating from the totem embedded in her chest, seemed to calm her instincts down to a point where she only felt faintly distressed in these woods. The tauren was sure the warlock's magic had worked. If it had not been for the elaborately carved dragon bone, she would probably have abandoned the camp long ago. It was like a second heartbeat, the totem sending a wave of tranquil magic into her body with every throb. Where she had had to pressure herself at times to not give in to the primal urges caused by her instincts, they simply seemed to have become far much controllable.
She wasn't used to it at all. While it was certainly a relief, she now actually had to consider her next course of action, while usually, it would simply have happened. She would simply have done something without even thinking about it. But she had needed to stop trusting her instincts. They were irrational. Sometimes, they were wrong. Caused her to attack things she should not have. Because after all, beasts trust no one but their own kind. And the druid had abandoned hers long ago.
My thanks to Anyel of the Froststeel Company for wrihting part 6 of Rage of the North and The Elf of the Epilog.
I also thank Niabi of the Froststeel Company for wrihting The Druidess of the Epilog.