[Horde] Chapter Two: Session Twenty-Two
September 13th
0:00
Azgadaan is going to speak with Aracyra, following the eredar knight. He has asked her more about herself. She explains she was a misguided fool that followed the teachings of the Light. However, when the Legion found them, she found the truth of their goals and purposes. After she pledged herself to their surface, she became who she was today--a true servant of Sargeras who has seen the truth of their existence, and the dire need of their crusade.
She then asks him the same question. Azgadaan said he had not done anything of note as of yet, but the knight is intrigued by the fact that Azgadaan was born a true eredar on Argus--noting that the upcoming crusade would give him many opportunities to prove himself.
She left Azgadaan to cover the rest of the distance to Aracyra, and he enters the transporter. He lands in a preparation hanger. As he gets his bearings, he hears Aracyra call to him--seemingly having already been heading in his direction.
She smiles as she approaches, curtsying to him. She expresses it’s good to see that he returned safely, and she had actually been intended on finding him herself, but he beat her to the punch. Azgadaan said he wanted to see her.
Aracyra blushes, and said she received his message and the delicious tart that he had sent. Azgadaan laughs, expressing that it had been quite a mess as the oven exploded. Aracyra asks him to tell her about it, as she had never cooked before.
Azgadaan gives her a brief summary, then asks if they could talk down below as he is needed at the encampment. Aracyra agrees, but asks if they can make a quick stop first as she would like to show him something. Azgadaan agrees, and she smiles and takes his hand to lead him away while she asks him to tell her about more of his journey.
He again gives her a summary, and she pipes up at the appropriate junctures until they get to a door. She prances in, and chants a spell a spell in eredun. The door opens, and she takes Azgadaan’s hand again and leads him inside.
The room is pitch black as they enter. At some point, Aracyra had slipped behind him, and she whispers, “Are you ready?”
Azgadaan asks what for, and there is a soft giggle, and a snap of fingers. Then the shadows vanish.
There is a rack before them, and adorning it is a suit of armor. It’s magnificently crafted out of black metal. Demonic faces with intense, burning green decorate its surface, along with ornate, metal worked decor.
It looks like it was crafter perfectly to fit Azgadaan’s dimensions. It resembles the armor of the Fel Lords.
Aracyra smiles at him, and asks him what he thinks.
Azgadaan: “It’s… It’s a lot.”
Aracyra: “I wouldn’t worry about that. I heard your Argusian name day was a few days ago. I’m only sorry I couldn’t give it to you on the day.”
Azgadaan said that’s why he had sent her the pastry, so she could feel involved, and she thanks him and asks if he likes it. He says he does, but he can’t accept something so expensive. She says that, given the dangers he was marching into, it was all she could do to make sure he makes it back safely.
Azgadaan thanks her again, and goes to give her a hug, which she accepts happily. He then asks when her birthday is, and she tells him a date that is roughly equivalent to New Years.
She says they should see if it fits, and Azgadaan starts to strip down beneath a magical veil, and Aracyra asks if he had ever worn a suit of armor like this. He said no, and she told him to go look at it.
Azgadaan approaches, and as he reaches out, the armor breaks apart, and starts to automatically secure itself to him.
It fits perfectly. However, as Azgadaan messes with one of the straps, it doesn’t seem to want to come off. He asks Aracyra if there’s some kind of trick with it.
Aracyra asks what he means, and if there’s something wrong.
Azgadaan: “How do you remove it?”
Aracyra: “Well, I’m not nearly as practiced with armor as some, but I believe it should just be able to… oh.”
Her eyes widen, and a hand covers her mouth.
Aracyra: “Oh, I had not considered that. Oh dear. Azgadaan, I’m truly sorry. I didn’t consider this to be a possibility, but I should have thought of it… you see, the enchantments I had cast on the armor were a variety of enchantments that the wrathguard that protect the greatest eredar lords of our people use on their armor to protect their minds. Well, I suppose I hadn’t considered that… well… how do I put this. They take stock of one’s support of the Legion. If one has any doubts or misgivings or fears, perhaps that is a failsafe, some sort… enchantment. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”
She walks up and places a hand on Azgadaan’s bracer.
Aracyra: “Please, if you’ll give me just a moment, I have to run something quickly.”
Azgadan: “It’s fine, I’ll go with you.”
Aracyra: “Right this way then.”
She leads him toward her quarters, and gestures for him to come in after her. She fiddles with a jewel-encrusted case, and lifts a small orb out of it. It pulses with a deep green energy that moves through it. She holds it out to Azgadaan, suggesting it may be able to assist. She explains it was given to her when she was young by her mother. She said that he wasn’t the only one who had doubts in the past, but the orb would serve to quell the fears and empower him to do what he must. In time, the spells that surround the armor would not affect him anymore.
She said she doesn’t need it anymore, and she wanted him to have it.
Azgadaan believes her, and takes the orb. As soon as he touches it, he senses a power in it. It wants to resonate with him, as if it’s begging to be used. His mind wanders to the magics he’s wielded, and the power it had given him, and he feels.the urge to wield that power again. For a moment, there’s a twinge of excitement for the coming battle, as it will give him another opportunity to wield that magic again.
The thought is fleeting, but there.
Azgadaan thanks her, and Aracyra apologizes again, hoping he will forgive her… and that he still likes the armor.
Azgadaan confirms it’s amazing, and she breathes a sigh of relief. He adds, somewhat jokingly, he just doesn’t want to sleep in it all the time.
They leave, and he focuses on the armor, trying to sense it. It’s effectively +1 plate mail armor, and while he is wearing it he can understand all demonic tongues and dialects of the Twisting Nether. Additionally, the armor gives him advantage against being charmed or frightened.
0:53
They are able to find the party and the rest. It had been about a half hour since Azgadaan originally left. Arthak had sent Sagaz with a message to Shaspira with an apology he won’t be able to meet with her immediately, as he will have to report to the warchief immediately. But he and Go’el would be able to speak after if needed, or if she needed to speak with them immediately, she will know where to find them. Arthak had also asked one of Gramgun’s men to go and get the current events of the area with his men. In addition to any information about the Burning Blade activity.
However, Arthak had left after about 20 minutes with Mankrik, Go’el, and Sadras to go and meet with his superiors.
1:02
Aracyra looks around in awe at the number of individuals Arthak had drawn beneath his banner. It was quite impressive for so little time. Nyxxa had stepped out of sight, and listened to them while hidden.
Aracyra also notes the broken around, and Azgadaan mentions that they had “captured” more on the way. She also asks if the unbroken Draenei from before are still around. Azgadaan confirms, and she asks if she could meet them.
Azgadaan says yes, and he takes her to see Remnii and the others. Yrel alerts Remnii, who is praying.
Aracyra curtsies to Remnii, and they exchange some pleasantries. Aracyra mentions she had never had a chance to meet a draenei before, then asks for confirmation if that was what she called their people. Remnii confirms, and Aracyra says it’s a good word, then mentions Remnii herself is very pretty and Aracyra likes her hair.
Remnii smiles, and thanks her, returning that Aracyra’s dress is incredibly flattering.
Aracyra mentions she is glad that she was able to come through her journey unscathed, as she wanted to talk to her. Aracyra explains that her people had heard a different history than the draenei tell, and she would like to hear what Remnii had to say, as it’s a rare opportunity to peer into the other side.
Remnii says she would be happy to speak, and she would appreciate a chance to hear Aracyra’s as well. Aracyra agrees, though she unfortunately would have little to say.
Aracyra asks if they could walk and speak, and Remnii agrees as long as they could stay within the camp. Aracyra agrees, and invites Azgadaan as well.
As they begin to walk, Aracyra tells Remnii what she would probably already imagine the eredar would say. That Velen betrayed their people, and their families left them behind to chase a dream instead of face reality. Aracyra herself said she was far too young to have felt their pain, but she could still see it. Her mother was strong, but it’s plain that the scars of that civil war still affect her to this day, as she lost many things: close friends and family among them.
Aracyra: “It pains me to see. Perhaps one day our people can be one again. I sincerely hope so.”
Azgadaan agrees that it would be wonderful for their people to come together.
Then it’s Remnii’s turn, which is the other side of the whole. She mentions that histories are curious, as so much aligns, yet not much does at all. Ultimately, when it comes to their generations, they did not choose to be eredar or draenei: they were born into it. Thus, it’s interesting to hear both sides.
Aracyra agrees they didn’t choose, but they can.
Aracyra: “Tell me, Remnii. Your father is Velen, correct? The one who split our people apart, correct?”
Remnii: “While my people would say that Archimonde or Kil’jaeden had done the same, but yes, he is one of the three.”
Aracyra: “Regardless, a consensus was reached, and he broke against the majority.”
Remnii: “He did. We would not be called the draenei otherwise.”
Aracyra: “Have you ever considered the fact he’s just a man? That your father doesn’t have the answers to everything? Perhaps he was wrong? You’re right, our generation didn’t make that choose, but they can. As his daughter, I believe you have a great deal of sway amongst your people, do you not? You could end this fighting. You could make our people whole again. I think… I think that would be a greater good than anything your father says. Doctrines and histories aside, think of all the bloodshed that could end. The families that could be reunited.”
Remnii contemplates. “Before I could make any such decision… I do not believe he has all the answers, in fact. Too, it was the nature of Archimonde and Kil’jaeden when they made the pact with Sargeras. They too were just men. All three of them. Of course, many are free to disagree with me. But in theory, that would be… good. A unification would be wise. There is much pain in a shattered people. But, I too do not have all the answers, and… I am still seeking those answers in time. So you will forgive me if my answer is dodgy, at best.”
Aracyra: “Oh, I didn’t expect anything to come from such an offer. Not yet. But perhaps something to think about.”
Remnii: “Of course.”
There is some silence, and Aracyra looks back at the Vitiator. “This has been a good deal of fun, Remnii, Azgadaan, but I should probably return back home. I have a number of tasks I need to prepare before the big day. Not to mention, I fear if I overstay my welcome, your friend may… well…” She glances back at Yrel. “I get the sense she does not like me.”
Azgadaan: “She does that.”
Remnii: “She’s grumpy.”
Aracyra: “Do you think she would follow you? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Thank you, Azgadaan, for seeing me.”
Azgadaan: “Of course. If you have any spare time, come to see me. I have a few ideas.”
Aracyra agrees, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and she turns to return to the Vitiator.
Azgadaan suggests they head back to camp, and Remnii agrees.
Azgadaan digs around in his bag, and pulls out the pearl for identify. He offers it to Remnii, and asks her if she has identify prepared. She confirms, as she had a feeling he’d come back with something.
Azgadaan: “It’s a tight fit.”
Remnii: “Then take it off.”
Azgadaan: “No. It’s a *tight* fit.”
Remnii: “Oh.”
As they return to camp, Yrel asks what the “witch” had to say. Remnii gives the brief summary, stating Aracyra wanted to reunite their people, and she pointed out that Velen was just a man, though Remnii had said that Archimonde and Kil’jaeden were as well. 1:34
Remnii then casts Identify on Azgadaan’s armor. It’s the Armor of the Fel Lord. However, it revealed nothing that Azgadaan didn’t already know.
He then asks Yrel to try and tug the shoulder pad, and she does, but it doesn’t budge. Yrel asks what Aracyra did to him, and Azgadaan explains that Aracyra had mentioned there was a possibility that if there were any doubts about the Legion, the armor wouldn’t budge.
Remnii asks Azgadaan where he put Spiritsong, and Azgadaan sheepishly taps his thigh. Remnii frowns. Hard.
Azgadaan then pulls out the orb Aracyra gave him, and shows it to Remnii. He explains he felt an urge to go back to his former roots when he touched it.
Remnii: “Oh. We are attempting to convert everyone today, it seems.”
Azgadaan asks her to find out what it is.
She does. It’s an artifact called an Orb of Inner Chaos. They are distributed by the Archival Authority to demons who struggle. While holding the orb, there is a +1 bonus to any spell attacks or saving throw DCs you cast. However, it’s +2 on forbidden spells. However, it only functions if you are level 1 or lower corruption.
Remnii also identifies any spells on Azgadaan, but there is nothing on him.
They go to explain the situation to Raluhi, and he says that it’s likely that the suit of armor is cursed, or at least functions like so. Curses can be nullified, of course, with certain types of magic. Remnii may be able to do so. He can’t remember if wizards can.
However, Raluhi notes that the spell Remove Curse will not remove the curse from the item. It just breaks his attunement to the armor.
They may preparations to try and break the attunement the next day so that Raluhi could place the Magic Aura on SpiritSong again, as he could not access it as long as it was contained within the armor.
Remnii emphasizes that, in the future, he has the right to refuse a gift and say no even if Aracyra insisted he try it on.
2:00
Arthak goes to talk to his superiors. Things are a bit tense.
Blackhand congratulates Arthak for a job well done, and make comments to Go’el as to wondering what took the Frostwolves so long to get there. He throws some insults at Go’el’s sire. Go’el is angry but holds his tongue.
Arthak brings up the Burning Blade, and suggests that Jubei’thos, Blackhand’s bodyguard, has the discipline and means to possibly control the Burning Blade, but Blackhand halts him.
He states that the Burning Blade will survive by their numbers. If they break, then other clans will absorb them. As that is their way. Jubei’thos would stay where he does the most good.
However, Jubei’thos interrupts from behind, stating he accepts Arthak’s offer.
Blackhand: “What did you say?”
Jubei’thos steps forward. “I need not repeat myself. You heard what I said. Arthak Saurfang, I accept your offer. I will return to the clan of my birth, and they will follow me, or they will die.”
Blackhand tries to forbid it, but Jubei’thos asks Arthak for the sword he had taken from Azuka.
Arthak: “It has been waiting for the right wielder. Warchief, I understand why you are hesitant to lose Jubei’thos as a blade by your side. But for the best of the Horde, the Burning Blade must stand united. Might I offer a compromise?”
Blackhand turns to Arthak, his hand still on Doomhammer.
Arthak: “Jubei’thos is a loyal orc. He can lead the Burning Blade. If you need a replacement, I have replacements in mind--my thoughts spurned this conflict, and I would see my solutions end it.”
Blackhand: “Who would you suggest, Arthak?”
Arthak: “I would need to talk to him, buy my second Lantresor is an able blade, and a student of my grandfather. If he were to refuse, I would do it in his stead.”
Blackhand’s grip loosens on the Doomhammer.
Jubei’thos: “I can attest to the strength of Lantresor. A true blademaster despite his heritage.”
Blackhand growls. “Very well.”
Arthak: “The Horde will be stronger for this. As I said, if Lantresor is unwilling, I will take his place.”
Blackhand: “That would certainly be another solution, wouldn’t it? Very well. Be gone. Speak to your man. I expect an answer before the end of the day.”
Arthak: “Very well. Lady Shaspira requested to speak with me, but I will make arrangements. You will have an answer.”
Blackhand: “Then begone.”
As he leaves, Arthak offers Azuka’s blade to Jubei’thos with a bow. He accepts the blade, and he sheaths it on his back.
Jubei’thos: “I will go and earn my right to wield this blade. I will not forget this, Arthak.”
He bows, and Arthak returns it, then Arthak leaves.
2:26
As they leave, Go’el congratulates Arthak on a job well done as the situation could have gotten interesting. Arthak states the betterment of the Horde was what they needed, though things may change if Lantresor refuses the position as Blackhand’s bodyguard. However, it will be handled should it occur.
They then go to meet with Shaspira.
Within the chambers they are permitted in, they see a spiraling study area. There are shelves with artifacts and trinkets. Some are so alien they can’t even comprehend their origin or purpose. There are crystal boxes like the one Raluhi uses to cast, as well as miraculous weapons.
There are scrolls and stone tablets and books, as well as other strange forms of literacy that defy reason or logic of creation. There are a number of orcish relics as well. A mask of the Laughing Skulls. A blade like those the Shattered Hand wields. It’s almost like a museum.
In the very center is a sort of desk, with various other trinkets upon it. A swirling orb. A crystal that seems to be pieced apart, though it’s rippling with energy.
Shaspira sits there, but she is facing away from the group, not standing with the same height or poise. She has a degree of deference to her posture. There are flames shooting up from the crystal, forming in different shapes. There are two burning orbs which are likely the entity’s eyes, and they are speaking, but it’s in Eredun.
Then the Wrathguard announces the group.
They finish up their conversation, and the flame disappears. Shaspira turns to them, though her eyes linger on a long, ornate, rectangular case about 6 feet long by 3 feet wide.
For a moment, as Shaspira turns to face them, Arthak glimpses a look he had never seen. There is a flash of a look that one gets when plans have changed, and one needs to adapt quickly. However, as she fully turns, it’s gone.
She greets Arthak in Orcish, and invites Go’el and Arthak in. However, the Wrathguard tells Mankrik and Sadras to wait outside.
Sadras gives Arthak a concerned look, which he returns with an unconfident smile, and the door closes behind them.
Shaspira confirms she received Arthak’s message, though states she was in an important meeting, thus Arthak’s timing was impeccable. She then mentions it’s an honor to finally meet Go’el, and Go’el returns the pleasantry.
Shaspira states at dawn they would start heading to the Stair of Destiny, and she would have everyone in prime condition. Go’el, however, asks leave for a question. He explains the reason for their delay was because the Frostfire Ridges had been subjected to unnatural earthquakes. He had looked into them, and found Legion camps located there. He is to believe they were under her command.
Shaspira confirms.
Go’el asks if she was aware of the quakes, but Shaspira said she was not. She doesn’t keep herself privy to every single one of the individuals she has working for her across the stars. However, she reassures him that the overseers of the forge camps are capable of ensuring that everything done is done properly, and with no unforeseen side effects beyond what was needed for the Legion to succeed.
Go’el asks if there was any way to lessen the quakes, but Shaspira is uncertain. However, she assures him it isn’t something he needs to concern himself with, and suggests he focus his attention to his people and the invasion to come. If his people aren’t prepared, there’s no telling what harm might come to him. The Horde needs to be united, and cannot be distracted--especially not with something trifling like earthquakes.
She then tells him to return to his people, as his presence would do much for their morale. It’s more an order than a suggestion. Go’el relents, and thanks her, before leaving.
However, Shaspira wants to speak with Arthak alone. She thanks him for his efforts, as it has strengthened the Horde and their cause. Soon, he will see the fruits of that labor.
Arthak expresses he’s excited to see it.
Shaspira: “The chieftain Ner’zhul. What do you know of him?”
Arthak: “There is the obvious. He is the leader of the Shadowmoon clan. He was Gul’dan’s mentor for a time. He was also once the most respected voice among our people, and it was him who turned us upon the thread of the draenei, though his star has fallen significantly since then.”
Shaspira: “Yes. From what I understand he attempted to betray those who followed him, and was punished for it. And now, the self-same man is going to integral to the opening of the Dark Portal and our invasion. Do you not think that foolish? A man who lost everything? Who was cast down? To be given a responsibility? Do you think he would take a chance to regain honor, or use it to get revenge? What do you think?”
Arthak: “My ancestry has had conflicts. Some I don’t entirely understand, but it has had issues with the Legion. At least in regards to the fel orcs. Orcs I have… demonstrated opposition. One I stand by. I believe the answer to that question comes down to whether Ner’zhul, or even myself, would be mad enough to… try.”
Shaspira: “That is the question of the hour, isn’t it, Arthak? You’ve seen the strength of our purpose. Our goals. The threats to your Horde. But you are right. Is it not foolish to trust you as well? So tell me Arthak. Are you mad enough to try such a thing? I know you and your friends have talked about such things. We need not play coy.”
Arthak: “If I was intending on being coy I wouldn’t have broached this topic. The answer is… if I thought it in the best interest of my people, yes.”
Shaspira: “Then we have nothing to worry about, will we? What we’ve created here is a crusade. Yours is not the first people who have joined our cause, nor will it be the last. And those who we go to face will not be the first to be crushed beneath your heels, nor will it be the last.”
She walks up to a shelf, and with a gesture, a small, jewel-encrusted skull lands in her hand.
Shaspira: “Many have tried to stand against the Legion’s crusade, but none have succeeded. Because what we do is for the good of all. The protection of all. Without us, the world would have fallen to chaos long, long ago. We simply cannot allow that to happen, and neither can you.”
Arthak asked for her to explain further, as he doesn’t know the Legion’s purpose.
Shaspira: “Scholars have studied a great deal to truly understand the depths of what we do, but I can tell you this much. I would show you, but such a thing would be unwise. For your own sanity, as well as mine.”
Arthak: “Yes, knowledge. All things have a cost.”
Shaspira: “I imagine by now you’re familiar with the Light your pet draenei clutches like a babe with her security blanket?”
Arthak: “Yes. Useful. But yes.”
Shaspira: “There exists a mirror to that, but ‘tis not us. The Light is a tool. One that can be used. One that my… wayward people took up after their self-imposed exile. But there is… a darkness to every light. A shadow to every sun. That shadow is beyond the comprehension that I daresay either of us capable of, and if we succeeded, our minds would be rend asunder. If left unchecked, the shadows would consume everything. Drag the world to black nothingness. This poor unfortunate individual…” she tosses the skull to him. “Was from a world too far gone. The cancer was too deep for us to remove without excising the entire thing. They stood against us, and were killed. Was not the first world, and will not be the last. The shadow of the Void is not something to take lightly. It’s a tool to be used, like any power, but one that will devour everything if not watched carefully.”
Arthak: “Like madness.”
Shaspira: “Madness? Yes. When one glimpses infinite possibility, our minds cannot keep up, you see. One must be very careful to wield such things.”
Arthak: “Less they be consumed.”
Shaspira: “Less they be consumed. Like that poor individual you hold in your hand. A sycophant. A leader of their people. Twisted beyond recognition, and willing to sacrifice insurmountable numbers of his people. Mountains of death, and carnage, and blood. All to grant this… unseen hand the dominion to destroy everything they held dear. A pity, really. I cancer that, if left unchecked, would have infected every star. This is what we prevent. This is what we fight. That which cannot be understood. Which brings me once again… towards the matter of this chieftain Ner’zhul.”
Arthak: “You asked if he is mad enough to try.”
Shaspira: “Yes. I believe he is… from what I’ve heard.”
Arthak: “And I can confirm.”
Shaspira: “Then my associates were correct. He must be dealt with.”
Arthak: “How do you intend for it to be in? And, taking something of a guess, how do you expect me to do it?”
Shaspira: “I would not put this on you unless you chose to take it. I have others to accomplish such things. But if you choose to do so, there are benefits. You are one of his people. His instability is known amongst you. I would not wish for one of my followers to be responsible for the death of one of your chieftains. But if you were to do so, it would be just. You’ve dealt with him before. The means by which this is to be done has been defined for me. Such a person cannot be trusted. My informants have told me that the Shadowmoon clan is familiar with necromancy. The magic of the dead. That one of the naaru is located there and is in a darkened state. A twisted shadow. Ironic that beings of Light can be twisted in such a way, yet the draenei still follow them. But for years since the draenei came here, to your harm, the black shadow of the Dark Star whispered into their minds. Ner’zhul, I imagine, is no exception. Such a person cannot be trusted with death. No. Death would not be sufficient. And so my...associates have procured a gift of sorts. Something to ensure that the chieftain never troubles us again. The means with which to to end the threat once and for all.”
Her eyes flicker to the long case, and she looks back to Arthak.
Shaspira: “If you would take this mantle upon yourself, I would appreciate it. But I would not push this on you.”
Arthak: “I will take this burden. You said not to be coy, so I will not be.”
Shaspira: “Then consider this a gift. From my Lord Kil’jaeden. May it serve you well. I trust you understand that there will be no room for failure. If you give him an inch, he will take a mile.”
Arthak: “He has done that already.”
Shaspira: “And should you fail… well. I need not speak further on what would happen. Are you certain you wish to take this? There’s no shame in backing down. If there is any hesitation, I suggest you turn away. There can be no hesitation. As such will surely cost you your life.”
Arthak: “No. I will take this. For reasons that should be apparent, and some that we have no need to speak of.”
Shaspira: “Very well. Then at the appointed time, the opportunity to strike will be evident.”
Arthak: “May I make one request?”
Shaspira: “Of course.”
Arthak: “Should I fail, it will cost me my life and more, as it has been suggested. Success or failure, my clan is strong, and deserves its place in the invasion. As do the Frostwolves. I would like to see that honored, regardless of the outcome.”
Shaspira: “Of course. That much can be arranged.”
Arthak: “Very well. Thank you.”
Shaspira gestures to the case.
Arthak: “I was curious about the contents in that case.”
Shaspira: “So you met her, then. I am led to believe this is a weapon to surpass those in the Legion’s possession. I too, am curious.”
Arthak: “Do you know what it could do to me? My answer is made, either way.”
Shaspira: “It was delivered moments before you arrived. I know as much about it as you do.”
Arthak: “Then this shall be interesting for us both.”
Arthak heads over to the case, and pauses, speaking quietly. “Grandfather… if you think it right to protect me, I am trying the best I can.”
Then he holds out a hand to open it. The case opens, and frigid air expands from around it. His heart almost stops for a moment.
As the mist subsides, his mind is torn in two seperate directions. In one direction, he’s never seen a blade of such immaculous craftsmanship, but in the other, every fiber of his being and soul is screaming at him to run. The blade that is in the case is an immaculate greatsword, with a skull upon its hilt. Long and horned like a ram. The blade is asymmetrical and jagged, yet keen. Smooth like ice. Runes of a language he could never hope to understand shimmer across the blade.
Shaspira: “It is called many things, in many languages, but I believe the name in the common tongue is the most fitting. Frostmourne.”
3:27
Arthak reaches out and picks up the sword. It’s heavy in his hand. Unwieldy. Something is resisting him. There’s something missing. A key that needs to be turned. Words flash through his mind in a voice he does not recognize, or perhaps his own voice.
"Whomsoever takes up this blade shall wield power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit."
He couldn’t see it before, but the words appear on the case. In this moment, the sword begins to try and tear itself away from him somehow. There’s something it needs. He senses it needs… full commitment. It needs complete sacrifice.
What would Arthak give for that power?
For the power to maybe save his people?
As far as he’s concerned, Arthak is willing to give anything.
The case shatters into fragments of snow and dust. And the weapon is light now. Lighter than a sword its size should be.
Shaspira: “So, Arthak. How does it feel?”
Arthak: “I feel ready.”
Shaspira: “Good.”
Arthak asks if there was anything else she needed, and she says no, so he returns to the camp.
3:41
As Arthak passes the stables, a clefthoof is ramming itself against the doors of the stables, its eyes on Arthak in a stampeding rampaging. Arthak looks at it coldly. “Enough.”
It doesn’t calm down, but eventually the other orcs are able to wrap enough rope around it to force it to the ground. Frostwolves growl at him as he passes, but they do not fight against their restraints
Meanwhile, in the tent, Yrel informs Azgadaan and Remnii Arthak is back.
Azgadaan: “Arthak! Welcome back!”
Arthak: “Azgadaan.”
Azgadaan: “You have a new sword.”
Arthak: “And you have new armor.”
Azgadaan: “Indeed. Would you mind talking in the tent?”
Arthak: “Yeah. We can… compare.”
Arthak heads into the tent, and Azgadaan asks what got all the beasts riles. Arthak cranes his head toward the sword as a guess.
Remnii blinks, about to hand the pearl back to Azgadaan, but Azgadaan asks her if she would mind identifying the sword as well.
As Remnii begins the ritual, she senses lingering eyes--Nyxxa is nearby.
Arthak: “Remnii, I… this might be something that should be left alone for now.”
Remnii sighs, and looks at Arthak very sternly. “Arthak, tomorrow I will prepare protection from good and evil, and I will cast it, and then I will use identify on it. Good?”
Arthak: “That’s fine.”
Nyxxa: “Actually, may I? Not that, but something else.”
Nyxxa casts detect good and evil. She senses the object itself, and a radius of about 10 feet around it are incredibly desecrated. She suggests everyone keep their distance. A lot of distance.
Remnii asks what happened, and Arthak explains Shaspira had… put him in a metaphorical box. Now he has the sword, and he has a job to do with it: Ner’zhul.
Azgadaan: “So we’re killing Ner’zhul?”
Arthak: “I am.”
Azgadaan: “I’m assuming he’s not going to be alone.”
Arthak: “No, but I need to make the killing blow.”
Arthak states that the others involving themselves is strategically unwise, as it was his problem, and also unwise in other ways. Nyxxa suggests they avoid talking further on it given where they are, and Arthak agrees.
He takes a short rest while preparing to go speak with Lantresor. He discovers the sword is a +3 weapon. Whenever it kills something, it slays them immediately and devours their soul. It gives temporary hit points from the kills, and advantage on attack rolls while the user has the temporary hit points, and their Strength score is increased by 2, and max strength is 24 while attuned to it.
3:58
Arthak goes to find Lantresor, and Sagaz is there with a dire look on his face. There are two young Blackrock orcs present.
Lantresor informs Arthak that something has happened as he notes his approach.
One of the kids starts to explain, but as Arthak approaches, he grabs his chest and starts to gasp. Arthak immediately stops, and the kid staggers back away out of the aura.
Lantresor and Sagaz seem unaffected.
Arthak has a feeling that, because the child is weaker, not a strong fighter, the sword has an adverse affect on them.
Lantresor looks at Arthak for a second, but benches the question.
The child explains that the Champion Saurfang and the others got back. He was speaking with the high overlord, and then he just dropped dead. He clarifies it was Dranosh.
Arthak asks where the body was, and when the child said it was in the high overlord’s tent.
Arthak is gone, running toward the tent. There are a lot of people in the way. He shouts and yells, and people scramble out of the way. The other members of the party members hear them and take off after him.
Varok is standing over Dranosh’s body with a healer. It seems Dranosh is gone. Varok’s shoulders sink, and his knees collapse on the ground with a dull thud.
He then buries his head in Dranosh’s chest, his son in his arms.
They are informed that Dranosh had fallen about 25-30 minutes ago.
Arthak realizes it was the same time he had said he would “give anything” to save his people.
