A War of Kings
Warneshi, July 11, 2006
Warneshi sat calmly in his embassy reading several missives that
had come through recently, they were the usuall this and that;
differant factions seeking an alliance with the buding Sandfury
tribe, reports from his servents, missives from rival tribes
warning the Tyrant of the consequences of bringing back his
cursed tribe. Warneshi sifted through them as he always did,
reading some, responding to few, and burning the rest.
It was in one of the stacks that one of the letters caught his
eye, the seal it bore was the of the Zandalar Tribe.
Warneshi was surprised, the Zandalar and the Sandfury had never
seen eye to eye. The Zandalar condeming the Sandfury as nether
slaves and demon bloods, and The Sandfury viewing the Zandalary
as weak willed spirit slaves who couldn't even handle their own
demons. The few times Warneshi had actually agreed to work with
the tribe had only occured because The Grim has asked him to so.
Warneshi dug his claw into the hardened wax seal on the skin
bound document and broke it. Warneshi unfurled the document and
began to read it.
Warneshi Sandscalp
King of our enemies
Betrayer of the trolls
It is out of extreme need that I ask your help, know that nothing
else would ever coerce me into seeking the assitance of one such
as yourself. It seems that yet again Hakkar attempts to make his
return to this world. The attacks by your much respected allies,
The Grim, had held him and his forces at bay with great success;
but it seems with the lack of Grim assualts Hakkars slaves are
begining to gain strength once more.
Hakkar, like you, is a demon that should never of touched this
plane; yet it seems somehow his return is imminent. I ask that
you help us, we have consulted the spirits and they have given us
an unusuall declaration:
To defeat our greatest foe, we must call on our most hated
demons.
All signs point to you Warneshi Sandscalp. Your tribe has always
been hated, and for good reason. Know this, we are well aware of
your crusade against she who took your tribe from the spirits, we
are well aware you seek her taint gone from your blood and her
control banished from your people.
We know of ways to help you Warneshi Sandscalp, help us, and we
help you. The rituals we know are ancient indeed, and when the
Blood God lays dead you will know them. A soul given in service,
not taken in hatred, can be recovered, we know what you want more
then anything.
May you have the want and ability to prove your tribe still has a
place in this world.
King Rastakhan of the Zandalary
Warneshi smiled as he put the document down, The Sandfury were
becoming reconized again, and this request was but one more sign
that their re-amergence was imminent.
Warneshi put the ego boost out of his mind and went to work, he
would need Grims for this task. The Sandfury were still to small
to do this on their own.
Warneshi drafted a call to arms and headed for the guild hall. As
he stepped into the streets of Orgimmar, he closed his eyes and
pictured his mothers throne in the nether; he could feel her even
now roaring and screaming as she knew what he knew.
She was soon finished, The Sandfury would be their own again very
soon.
Warneshi smiled as he spoke with King Rastakhan.
"It seemss your faith in Warneshi wass well put, perhapss now iss
the time to admit your mistakess in doubting the Sandfury."
"Tink again king o te Sandfury tribe, yous still a demon and te
demon we seeks dead still b'kicken."
"He will be dead soon, fear not, Warneshi wantss what knowledge
you withhold, and besidess, what better way to herald the
Sandfury back into thiss world then on the death of a good, and
the thankss of thosse who thank no one..."
"What eva ja wish demon, but rememba who et is that gives ja the
secrets to at return. We brings the death o one demon, dont tink
we wont bring te death o anotha."
Warneshi smirked as he rose from the seat King Rastakhan had
offered him.
"I musst be off it seemss, kingly dutiess call. Worry not, soon 4
other vialss jusst like that will be added to your collection.
Wisse of you to have Warneshi remove their soulss, better to
control them now."
Warneshi left the hut cackling as he made his way to the boat
that would take him to Grom'Gol.
King Rastakhan sat quietly, the only thing to remind him the
Sandfury King had even been present was the souls of the 3
aspects and the Blood God's general, and the echo of Warneshi's
laughter in his hut.
Rastakhan sighed, oh how like his father Warneshi was in action
and ambition. Warneshi was deadly foe, but an even more deadly
ally. The Sandfury would never be complete, she had corrupted
them to far for that, like father like son, Warneshi would have
to be cleansed as well.
Warneshi made his final preperations to his attack prders then
made his way to the guild hall.
Earlier that day Muatah and Warneshi had sat down to discuss a
better allocation of forces, since The Grims were now fighting
several differant wars, on many differant fronts.
It was agreed upon that, one week the Grim attacks on Ahn'Qiraj
would be postponed to better the strength of the forces brought
against the Blood God and his minions, and vice versa to
strengthen the attacks against the Silithid and their overlords
the next week.
It was Warneshi's turn first, again he was going to prove himself
to The Grim and the world. The might of the Sandfury could not be
denied, and it was with the death of a god, that their return
would be heralded, in blood and fire.
Warneshi smirked to himself as he made his way quietly down the
paths towards The Grim hall, it was a good day indeed.
It was a solumn day for the troll king, his attack had dealt a
blow to Hakkar's forces, but not before the Grim payed for it in
blood.
The Hexxer had held The Grim off and forced them to prey on the
weaker of Hakkars minions. The Blood Lord, the aspect of the
Snake and Bat had all fallen, but Warneshi would not let himself
be free of guilt for bringing the younger Grims against such a
foe.
Warneshi could still hear the Hexxers voice in his head...
*cackles* Little Sandfury kingy ju thinky you stopa big'un
Hakkar? He flay the souls o all and leavin none alive. Ju learn
how weak ja is, and how you walk from here only because Hakkar
wants ta see ye fail again and again and again. *cackles*
Warneshi growled to himself, he would see the Hexxer dead, and
his damn god.
Warneshi sat up...he hadn't slept in well over 30 years, but for
some reason he seemed to of dozed off in his office, awaking with
the taste of blood in his mouth. Warneshi surveyed the room to
make sure no one was aware of him sleeping then went to stand up.
Pain, blinding searing pain shot all through his body, Warneshi
grunted and sat back down. His joints felt like they were aflame
and all of his body seemed to be held under some invisable
weight.
Warneshi sat for a moment then soon rose again, it seemed his
body had delt with the aches and pains quickly, but it still
worried him that he had felt them at all. His stomach growled and
moaned at him, he felt that hunger rising again, a hunger like he
felt back in jungles of Stranglethorn, it was almost unbearable
he had to feed.
He approached his door and was stopped short at his mirror,
Warneshi turned to see what he thought was his father, but
instead was him, much older then he should appear to be.
Warneshi remembered his mothers promise of power to him, neither
age or time would touch him, blades would feed him and fire
harden him. No matter how many times he would fall, Warneshi was
not permitted to die. Reflecting on the occurances of the last
months and years, Warneshi came to realize what was going on. His
aging, his aches, that hunger; Slys'Thoks powers were weakening,
Warneshi was becoming free.
Even as he smiled at the thought, his stomach reminded him of the
consequences. For so long he had drawn power from his own blood,
his own essence; only feeding on others occasionaly when the
hunger called for it. Now it seemed with her power being
withdrawn from him, the hunger for souls was now growing. His
body was still that of a soul eater, and it still craved its
nutrients.
Warneshi looked away from the mirror and tripped over something,
looking down he saw the body of one of his servents. It looked as
if his throat had been slit, his blood drank and his soul
drained. Warneshi let the scene play in his mind, remembered the
taste of blood in his mouth. His hunger was growing still, he
could feel the throb of his stomach as it called for the sweet
necter of souls. Warneshi fought off the feeling for a bit,
knowing he could not just succumb to it, no one was safe then.
Warneshi grabbed the draft for an attack order on the trolls of
Zul'Gurub and made for the guild hall, he knew the souls of
Hakkars minions could slake is thirst, if only for a short time.
Warneshi knew that if he could get Hakkars souls...the soul of a
god, that perhaps he could feed his hunger for an eternity, could
regain the power he once wielded, but this time under his own
control.