Weathered Relics, Worn Hearts By: Maikull & Marrgot
It was a small glide down from Dalaran to the Broken Shore, Mai’Kull leading the Shaman Marrgot in tow. Last time he was down there, he had briefly dealt with a moody, uncooperative, stubborn old Orc Warlock who was apparently plagued by spirits. He didn’t give it much thought at the time, due to his previous mission, but now he needed information from the old coot, and he was hoping one of his own kind might be able to pry information out of him. If nothing else, Marrgot’s skill as a shaman could help shed some light on what was plaguing the Warlock.
As they touched down at the small alcove, they could see Drak’Thul was sleeping in his makeshift cot. Mai’Kull quickly surveyed the camp, no sign of the
[Weathered Relic].
‘Damn…’ he thought to himself. He REALLY hoped the orc had not discarded the artifact into the sea, he would hate to have to trudge water for hours. He motioned towards Drak’Thul,
“Go on, be my guest, he did nothing but dismiss me and Jorlkal last time I was here; maybe you will have better luck.”
Drak’thul of the Stormreaver clan. It’s not often you get to speak to a living, breathing, piece of history. The historian in Marrgot thought to himself. It’s not often you get to punish a filthy traitorous warlock either, the shaman in him replied. Drak’thul might be able to provide insight on the current demonic invasion and the past days of the Horde, but Marrgot was still going to take his words on a grain of salt.
Never, ever fully trust a Warlock, especially one with that bad a track record. Usually, the historian and the shaman would argue endlessly about such a matter, but there was a new part of Marrgot’s thoughts capable of compromising. Why don’t I get information out of him then extract revenge? The new part of Marrgot, the part of him that was Grim, easily found a middle ground.
Marrgot “accidentally” stepped on the sleeping orc’s hand, followed by a slightly forced apology. The cloth clad orc turned in his cot, opening his eyes looking at the two before him, he gruffed at the site of Marrgot as he rubbed his hand, and once he saw Mai’Kull standing behind him he growled,
“Go away!”
Marrgot maintained his composure as he stated
“You want us to leave you for dead on a demon infested island. Very well.” Drak’Thul chucked at this,
“Heh, you think me a foolish old orc? Frail and ready to be pit to the wolves?” Mai’Kull lowly scoffs to himself, trying to cover it as a cough, causing the old Orc to Glare at him with hatred before continuing
“I was communing with demons when you were swaddling blankets boy!”
“Then I’m afraid we really can’t leave you. The knowledge you must posses will be invaluable in our fight against the legion.” Marrgot affirms. Drak’Thul shakes his head, in a most disappointedly way before rolling back over, turning his back to the two,
“They are not your enemy, fool. Now go away!”
“What did you do with Soulfeast the Devourer?” Mai’Kull snapped at Drak’Thul. The Orc went cold, barely moved or breathed for a moment at the name of the accursed relic.
“I put it back where it belonged…leave it be…you know not what you play with Scourge” Mai’kull nodded and motioned for Marrgot,
“I think I know where he put it…come.”
It was a short ride east along the coast in the Mage’s
[Mechano-Hog]. As they crossed a small stream, he took the path leading into the island, and before them, the broken rear half of a Horde Gunship. He slowly drove up along the lower ramparts before dismounting.
Crossing the small gorge, he motioned Marrgot to follow him to the right, away from the Fel-Constructed building, which took them along a path under the rock face. And after a brief walk they came upon a cave, adorned with bones and a fel-lit brazier.
“20 Gold says the old bastard buried it here again…” Mai’Kull muttered, pressing on. Mai'Kull had discovered the cave on his mission here with Jorlkal, and found the relic within, turns out the Orc was horrible at hiding things. The cave was dark and damp, with little to no light. The entrance seemed seared and scarred, as if it were blasted open, probably from the Mage’s Magic.
In the back of the cave, sure enough, just where it was the last time, there was a small mound of upturned dirt. Marrgot bent down and examined it before sticking his hand within the soil to withdraw a small
[skeletal relic]. As a good historian should, Marrgot carefully observed the relic, roughly sketching it and jotting down notes before placing it in a padded container. Mai’kull took the container from the Shaman and summoned a small Portable Hole in which to contain it for now.
“Time to get some answers…” Mai’kull said.
They returned to Drak’Thul’s camp with haste, this time the old Orc was up and appeared to be waiting for them. Mai’kull stayed to the back as Marrgot approached the other Orc, Relic in hand.
Marrgot withdrew the sketch of the Relic from his notes,
“Perhaps you know something about this?” “Why did you go find that?” The old orc whispered sorrowfully. Seeing the sketch drawn by the shaman was like seeing the real thing to the Warlock. Realizing they found it again, a deep sadness fills the old orcs eyes, haunting memories reliving his old days. As the emotions swelled within him he quickly withdrew and turned his back to the Shaman.
“The ghosts have long since stopped their whispers. There was silence, for a while. But they began again. Different, deeper, darker…”
Curious, Marrgot asks,
“Whispers? Ghosts? There are historical records of madmen following the orders of strange voices. What do these “Whispers” ask of you?” “I'm not Mad! And they do not come when I beckon, fool!” the old or snapped, his annoyance was still not enough to hide the pain swelling within him. Just then something within the old orc snapped. His eyes became sunken and unfocused for a moment. His head cocked slightly towards his work table as if listening to something the two could not hear.
Marrgot mumbled to himself as he observed the warlock enter a form of trance
“Well, then it seems they have perfect timing.” Mai’Kull watched the scene unfold intently, turning his head to the table as well. The large purple orb on the table seemed to have a slight spark of light within it before fading back to nothing, as if trying to conceal itself from the mage’s view.
While Marrgot worked with Drak’Thul as he spaced out, Mai’Kull examined the table some more. The
[strange orb] sat in the middle of the table, and several pebbles lay around it. Very small, almost unnoticeable markings were etched into the stone slab. Orcish Numerals were carved next to each pebble in random order, scaling from one to ten, with the final one being marked next to the orb before him. Even the pebble that appeared to have fallen off the table had a numerical marking next to it.
“What the hell..” Mai’kull thought to himself. He had noticed that Drak’thul returned to his usual ‘Go away’ self, and motioned for Marrgot to come take a look. “Look at this here…” he said, motioning to the pebbles, markings, and the
[strange orb] on the table.
“What do you make of it?”
Marrgot studied the table, and the strange pebbles and orb.
"The pebbles could be some sort of cipher..." he muttered to himself. No, that doesn’t make sense, there would have to be a code… Marrgot chuckled a bit.
"Reminds me of when I was younger," he began,
"my grandfather would have me sit in front of a map and set up all sorts of strategic scenarios for me to solve, and when he didn't have any figures available, he would just use rocks... wait." Marrgot immediately ceased his rambling, the cogs of his mind working furiously.
"The pebbles could be marking locations." he exclaimed.
"For what, I don't know, but it's the best theory I've got. Which means..."
Mai’kull was following the Shaman’s train of thought. He withdrew a large folded map of the Broken Isles, and laid it out flat. He then took out a small vile of
Skaggldrynk potion and sprinkled it onto the paper and his own hand. In reaction to the potion, the paper became translucent, and almost ghost like, falling onto the table and phasing through the orb and rocks about. Using his one afflicted hand to move the map, Mai’kull attempted to line the map up just right, using the
[strange orb] as a fixed point, reminiscent of Suramar when the shield was still up.
As the potions effects wore off, the map solidified once more, leaving the two standing before a full map, with 9 markers on it.
"I think I know where we're headed next." Marrgot said, as they both examined the map. Mai’kull glanced over a Drak’thul, was now pretending the two Grim didn’t even exist.
“Too much ground to cover for just the two of us…Ill draft up a Job posting on the Guild hall, see if other Grim might be able to assist us, and find out what this old coot is really up too…”
Mai’kull took the
[Weathered Relic] out of its container and held it towards the orb. Just as he predicted, it began to flicker in reaction to the artifact, but it was dim.
“I’m betting there are more of these orbs out there…ARNT THERE?” he shouted at Drak’Thul. The Old Warlock only huffed, refusing to acknowledge his query.
“We should go, much to do…And don worry old timer…We WILL be back…” the forsaken taunted at the Warlock. They met each other’s glares once more before Marrgot and Mai’kill slipped into a Portal back to Dalaran, finally leaving the Orc isolated...
-=[A Few Days Later]=-
Mai'Kull approaches the Guild Hall board. In his hands holds a hammer, a fist full of nails, and a small knapsack around his shoulder filled with scrolls. After clearing some room from old posts and outside clutter, he begins to hammer in 9 sets of nails along the board. He lined the sets horizontally in 2 columns; 4 sets in each column with the final set in the middle, centered under both. He then lightly taps each set of nails until they curve upward, into a makeshift hook.
The undead reaches into his knapsack and begins to pull out 9, nearly identical scrolls, each bound in red silk with a wax seal, imprinting the emblem of the Grim. He carefully placed each scroll within the sets of nails, until all 9 were positioned neatly. Finally, he pulls a small banner out of his bag, which he adheres above the displayed scrolls that reads:
WANTED:
Scouting Missions abroad the Broken Isles! Drak’Thul, Stormreaver Lieutenant to the Former Gul’Dan, has returned to the Broken Shore. Documents indicate several large soul stone like orbs are scattered among the Broken Isles, hidden away by the Orc Warlock for some unknown purpose. Any and All are asked to help seek out these artifacts for further study, to determine if they pose a threat to the Horde Occupation, or could be used as a Weapon against the Legion!
Please Document full reports of Scouting missions and leave them on the Desk of The Maleficar, Mai’Kull Fireweaver, all reports will be collated and submitted to The Insane, Anaie one for review and further action!
[TO BE CONTINUED]
