The Grim archives could make the Royal Library of Stormwind shrink like goldthorn in deep shade. Row upon aisle of towering shelves groaned under the weight of ten thousand tomes, all gathered and cataloged by furtive scribes scurrying in the dry and dusty darkness. Stone columns cleaved from the bedrock of the Halls themselves supported convoluted ribs of decorative masonry which framed brick ceilings that receded into the gloom. Here and there glimmered arcane lanterns, absently maintained by the memory of the Archivist himself, who at times dwelt in the great parchment shrine - were it not contrary to his fancy.
High Inquisitor Bloodstar stole curious glances at an imposing door that barred the passage to a sidechamber. The vault was sealed from most every Grim, never mention outsiders, and the keys held only by a very select few. Likely the Commander could gain entry, and the Archivist, but beyond those two souls, the High Inquisitor could not guess the others. It mattered little at this moment, however, for the orc only needed a lightly warded tome at the end of an aisle already guarded by a most foul stench. Reaching up five shelves, Khorvis withdrew a moldy book faced in greening sporebat-hide and meandered his way back towards more populated reaches of the Hall. The scribes had been most helpful in locating the writing of a long departed runesmith by the name of "Gurgk'blurg" or some similar translation of old orcish for "smashing gut monger," and Bloodstar made a mental note to increase their rations of bog-stalker gristle.
Cracking apart the putrid volume at his desk within the office of the Inquisition, Khorvis wiped his hamfists on his tabard. Strings of ropy ooze, transparent green in color, stretched from the binding and clung to every page. Little did this deter the orc, for once the tome was laid open, depraved images sprung to life upon the oily parchment and uprighted themselves in choreographed mockery before the reader. These were Khorvis's favorite style of books, designed to entertain the "reader" with pageantry instead of boring with soporific scribbles.
He flipped through the introduction (a sordid account of the intrinsic value of ooze monsters to the Horde and frightening hints a possible romances with marsh creatures) and reached the section that would be most instructive for Supplicant Rallaster DarkReign. A schematic of sorts, or was it a treatise on the anatomy of a weapon? Runemaster Gurgk'blurg possessed an odd proclivity for metaphors, particularly between the animate and the lifeless. It was this unwitting necromancy that Khorvis hoped to exploit for The Grim's benefit and Rallaster's Trial of Sacrifice. The Supplicant would slay the last memory of his old life and resurrect it from the grave in the blade of a new weapon, wielded for the Mandate. The High Inquisitor quickly began his response to his supplicant, the unholy knight.
Supplicant Rallaster DarkReign,
Word of your second Trial has reached my ears. Your findings have been deemed worthy of the Mandate. In your meetings with fellow Grim, you spoke of three things that did interest the Inquisition. Protecting the Horde, destroying the Legion, and the power of ancestor Light. These do be honorable things, and since you do ramble on in their support, it will be through them that you will be reborn into the Mandate in your final trial.
All Supplicants must endure the Trial of Sacrifice if they do wish to take the mantle of Reaper. Your quest does demand that you do sever all sentiment of your past life as a sea-dog does cut loose the mad and dangerous sail in the typhoon. As an unholy knight, you do be familiar with the particular rituals that I have included with this letter. Follow them through to the end and show your face again to me only when your blade is forged anew.
Fail me in this work and no child of Light will be able to raise the mess I will make of your corpse.
High Inquisitor Bloodstar
Beneath the message is the putrid tome of Runemaster Gurgk'blurg. Several pages have been marked and annotated by Khorvis's blocky handwriting. It would appear that there are five distinct stages to the ritual aforementioned, each tailored to the life-pattern of Rallaster. Notes on his history had been gathered by Grim operatives over the past few months, and while there were a few glaring errors (it was unlikely that Rallaster's mother was a troll witchdoctor from Zul'Drak) the links to an early life in shamanism seemed plausible.
Chapter One: Cleansing
Though Gurgk'blurg describes a revolting debasement in the guts of a fen-stalker followed by a feast of tentacles, Khorvis begins in Pandaria.
Travel to the Temple of the Jade Serpent. There you will find what remains of a Sha. Cleanse all Doubt
from your mind. There can be no retreat from the Mandate. Reapers do not question our grim task.
Chapter Two: Death
The physiology of an axe is sketched by the Runemaster. Stretched and contorted, it appears to be fashioned from the spine and jaws of a hydra. Khorvis has slashed a dark "X" over the abomination and instead circled a village on a map of the Barrens.
The graves of your ancestors are violated by the remnants of Hellscream's Horde. Travel to the Dark Shaman encampments along the Southfury River and silence their rituals. Take from their dead hands a greataxe. This will be the vessel of your new purpose.
Chapter Three: Runes
Here the author flourished a few too many penstrokes in his attempt to show his vile runes. When viewing the magical devices, the reader may be induced to vomit and faint. There is clear evidence on the page of this effect on Khorvis.
Your previous master was a great keeper of runes. Climb the Icecrown Citadel and mount the Frozen Throne
. There you will inscribe upon your new axe the great wards of the fallen Lich King. Dishonor the blighted memory of Menethil by carving our Grim sigil into the glacier itself.
Chapter Four: Blood
An empty vial is secreted in a compartment in this chapter. It obviously contained some liquid important to Gurgk'blurg, but the type and reason are both now long forgotten. A few dried specks of brown rot sit at the vial's bottom like barnacles on a shipwreck.
The Legion that we both do deplore does haunt the Sunwell Plateau. Make your way across the Great Sea and march down into the Sunwell itself. There you will fill this vial with the blood of a greater dae'mon
, for use in the final ritual.
Chapter Five: Forging
The author's obsession with runic necromancy becomes fully apparent. Images of the great mushroom forests of old Draenor being animated by foul runes cavort across the pages. The hydra-axe twists and snaps its jaw-blade at unseen foes. Though clearly mad, Gurgk'blurg had seemingly stumbled upon an early form of craft for living weapons. The High Inquisitor, a seasoned smith himself, has appropriated the rituals for use in a forging more familiar.
You will require a forge unlike any other. Take your rune-inscribed axe and dae'mon blood to the very center of Azeroth - the Heart of Destruction
within the Stonecore. There you will let the blood flow slowly into the sigils upon your weapon. When the troughs are full, plunge the blade into the molten core of Deepholm. When you do remove it, the axe will be born as a piece of yourself, imbued with the life of your new purpose in the Mandate. Care for it as you would a newborn whelp, for this is your child. Your legacy. Lok'tar ogar, Rallaster DarkReign. Peace Through Annhilation.
There are five parts to your Trial of Sacrifice, Rallaster. Four achievements and one screenshot:
Heroic: Temple of the Jade Serpent
A screenshot of a cleared Kor'kron camp in the Barrens
The Light of Dawn
Heroic: The Stonecore
They are all fairly easy by today's gear's standards, but it still requires legwork on your part. I have laid the framework for you to make an interesting story and craft for yourself a new weapon that could become integral for your character. How far you go with it is entirely up to you.
As with all other trials, you have one month to complete this. The due date is 6/6/2015. Failure is not an option! Good luck! ]]