Isendur had called for and led many to the Sunwell as thebattle raged. Cristok found he was unable to hold his hand at attacking thegathered alliance. “Cristok! Hurry to the Magister’s Terrace!” He could nothelp but hesitate. “But…there are Gnomes!” He saw a Rouge about to be felled,healed him and charged the Warrior. “Cristok!!!” Isendur yelled as hereluctantly aided the crazed Druid. The two quickly found themselves in a meleewith many enemies…
. TheOffensive was not intended to degenerate into open war between the factions.Indeed the generals on both sides encouraged cooperation. Many simply couldn’tabide this and Cristok was one of them.
“ Druid. Weare to aid the Offensive, not slay the allies. I’m sorry. I have to go.” SaidCristok’s ally. “Very well Isen. Be well.”
While theOffensive was the latest news for Azeroth the Grim was undergoing its ownchanges. There had recently been a change in leadership as Drinn, the Hand ofthe Grim, left in protest to the heavy handedness of the Enforcer. This leftmany of the Path of Vengeance within the Grim leaderless. Cristok recalledweeks earlier speaking with another about leadership…
"It'snot about games" Cristok could be heard speaking into his Hearthstone.Only a muffled voice that none other could hear answered, he continued “It isonly a means to an end --- We will make our move later. We have to bepatient..."
Silentlycreeping upon the meeting uninvited Cristok spied the Bloodelf gathering. Abricwas assuring those present something about the Mandate being more importantthan racial loyalties, a lesson Cristok knew well. Atticus threw a pebble atCristok to alert him that we seen. Duranor looked right at his stealthy formand glared… Then things got interesting...
Drinn, oneof Cristok's only true companions and leader, was being stripped bare andchastised. He was so confused that he heard none of what the Enforcer wassaying. His immediate response was to charge in and kill everything present. Hewas held back only by her husband and fellow rouge, Atticus. "Calmyourself Druid. We are to leave the fold. We are Scorned."
WhileCristok knew nothing of the politics at play he knew only that he too was beingtested. What is loyalty? What is my purpose? How do I tolerate my leader, myfriend, being humiliated?
The Mandateis how. A larger purpose is at stake. If my people can tolerate the Forsakenwalking amongst us in Thunder Bluff, then I can tolerate Drinn's beingchastised. Clearly she could not however.
Drinn andAtticus threw their tabards to the ground even as the mages formed portals forall to leave. Some didn’t even notice the implications of what was unfolding.Abric and Duranor sat silent as the two rouges walked away and Cristok finallyrevealed himself. The un-surprised Forsaken regarded Cristok and surelywondered if his tabard was to remain on as well.
Someone hasto say something. What do I say? What would Drinn want of me? Does she want meto follow her? Why has she left? What do we do? Cristok’s calm inner Druid knewthat these were simply questions of friendship clouding his stoic judgment. Heknew then that he would seize this opportunity to advance his own aims…
“Enforcer!”Cristok hails Abric and bows “I am sorry for intruding on your gathering! Butmight I speak for the Hand in saying that we should be patient and hold judgmentof her. We may yet find out why she has disgraced her tabard and convince herto salvage her now sullied reputation.” He knew this was what the Enforcerwanted to hear. Cristok was furious at what he saw as Drinn’s humiliation, butthere was no point in reasoning with the Un-dead. They simply saw thingsdifferently. “In the meantime I am ready to do anything you may need.” Abricnodded and peered at Duranor who only shrugged.
Shortly afterwardas news was spreading that the Hand was now Scorned, Malebrignon, The Artificerannounced on the Hearthstone that Cristok would fulfill the role of the Hand ifon only a temporary basis. Things were moving quickly for Cristok and he wasconflicted with loyalty for Drinn and pride in having been selected forleadership. He knew that this is what he wanted, but never thought it wouldcome at the price of Drinn. But then such is the balance of all things. TheDruid began making plans quickly.
“Thingsmove fast Druid. Congratulations…” The voice says to him over the hearthstone.“Thank you,” he replies “We can now advance our plans…obviously quicker thanexpected. We may not even need the Games to conti—“ The voice cuts him off. “Bepatient. You don’t know what will happen.”
Most of theGrim continued in its endeavors unabated. Aiding in the Sunwell Offensive andjointly attempting to open that gate. Cristok’s mind was far away. Hesurrounded himself with scrolls from the Guildhall trying to piece together theorganization he had only been a part. Some names he knew well, some he knewonly by reputation. He began meeting with one after the other.
“My respect for Drinn remains, but our loyalty is to aMandate not a person.” He would tell them.
“If I am to be the Hand here is my vision.” He outlined anambitious plan to expand the ranks of Vengeance and organize around a moremilitaristic structure. He expressed his vision and tested to see who supportedand who was reluctant.
“If you are to be the Hand, then my sword is yours” Somewould say. “I agree with your vision and will help to make it so!”
Others werenot so eager. “I tire of trying to direct children and I don’t like followingorders Mon” Cristok furrowed his brow at the ultimatum. “I see…ok then”
“Don’tscrew this up Druid. I didn’t say anything to Drinn and let her run theHarbingers how she would, but I will be watching you and will not hold my tongue!”Cristok nodded at the unfairness but accepted it nonetheless.
Themeetings continued throughout the week. The Druid was becoming exhausted buthis efforts were paying off. While more of what he was calling the “Loyalists”were leaving, he was recruiting troops from the mass of Grim who had yet tochoose a path to follow. By weeks end he had stopped the bleeding and in factgrown the Vengeance ranks. He submitted proposals to the officers and fellowVengeance and held a meeting in Thunder Bluff.
He had metwith the Artificer only once however. Malebrignon expressed confidence but alsoreminded Cristok that this position was temporary and that he did not know whatthe future held. As the week wore on Cristok became anxious of getting thepromotion. ‘What if Drinn were to return and find me knee deep in the officialscrolls, planning on changing her organization? Would his life be in danger?Would his friendship be lost? He hadn’t spoken with her since pledging hisloyalty to her, and her not being able to accept it. “I can’t ask you to followme Druid.” And so he didn’t.
“Any word fromcommand?” Cristok would ask the scribes at the Guildhall each day. None wouldgreet him. He would remain the temporary Hand. A glove in fact to tourniquetthe wound.
Once againthe voice called upon him. “You don’t know what you are doing do you?” The alltoo familiar tone was known to all the Grim. Accusatory. Irreverent. “It isstill early!” He replied. “As you can see I am not a Dreadweaver! I have nocontrol over the events ahead of me!”
“You haveto let her go. It is clear you haven’t done that. You don’t know what you aredoing do you?”
He turnedoff the Hearthstone. He looked Grim and determined. We shall see…he said tohimself…We shall see…