The Keep

Secluded in Darkshire, away from the prying eyes of the Horde, the company of Burning Tusks met in the shadows. Towering over the grove was the statue of some ancient pink skin hero, and a series of benches surrounding the rectangular stone slab in the centre. The stage was already set.

Atop the stone slab was a young, bubbly but paralyzed troll girl. Her chest was torn open, ribcage cracked and swung apart. The bloodied and enshadowed troll witch doctor, Zij, above her waved his dagger about, “Eat of dis girl as a sign o’ yer pact ta serve da Burnin’ Tusk Tribe an’ undah me.” And with each slice of her organs another devotee stepped up; first Zal’ara, then Hathgrimm, Zij himself, and then finally Hathgrimm’s pet girl. The magics that kept the young troll alive through the process finally met their end when the girl, mutt as Hathgrimm renamed her, bit into the severed heart covered in string and fetishes. The pacts were complete as life drained from the girl’s eyes and her body went cold.

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The remnants of Draenor, now called Outland, seemed to always be cool, but in front of a fire at the tiny Troll post in Zangarmarsh, Jez and Zij sat warmly in front of the large fire, talking happily. Together on the bench, Jez lay curled up in a ball in Zij’s arms, the two smiling and laughing.

“Someday we’ll retire to the north, in the forests of Ashenvale, our Tribe secure. Our many children left to run things as we lounge about, nothing left to do but relax and mate around the clock.” Zij chuckled before the fire, squeezing Jez’s tiny body to him.

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“You know, I’ve been looking at this map for days, and I just can’t seem to find Baywoe Island anywhere on it,” the blue-haired spy of a troll said to Jez, sitting on the boxes outside of the Orgrimmar Auction House. She snarled, low in her chest, “Ja ain’t lookin’ ‘ard enough.”

“Well, maybe you can show me? Just mark it on the map for me here,” he said, holding out the map towards her. She glared up at him. “I don’t need ta tell ju anyt’in’. Ja ain’t not’in’ but a spy anyways.” She glared ahead, watching the others go about their business. She removed the talisman from the inside of her belt, giving a brief “da spy is watchin’ me again, outside da auction ‘ouse,” before tucking it back in her belt.

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It wasn’t easy ta get to where we were goin’ to be wed. D’ere was a lot of t’ings d’at needed plannin’ ahead of time, as well as da knowledge d’at we may not be makin’ it off of da boat in as few pieces as we started in.

We started in Hammerfall, ridin’ down to da Menethil ‘arbor. Jumpin’ from da sailors, Hathgrimm, Nazru, Zij an’ I made it on ta da boat in one piece. But d’at wasn’t our concern.

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