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Old 04-01-2014, 03:33 PM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Warlock Choose Your Own Gul'dan

“We are not alone,” Cho’gall pointed out to Gul’dan. Their boat had finally beached on the shore of the new island, which still shuddered and threw off steam and occasional belches of fire and lava.

Gul’dan followed his assistant’s gesture and saw a fleet of ships approaching from the far side of the island. His island. From the way the lead boat moved Gul’dan could tell it was rowed rather than sailed, and that usually meant one thing: orcs. Doomhammer’s troops had found them.

“Curse him,” Gul’dan muttered. "Why did he always have to be so quick to make decisions? Another day and we would have been here and done before they arrived." He sighed. “Well, there is nothing for it."


You look out to the wrecked sea surrounding the Broken Isles. You look back to the Tomb of Sargeras, just waiting to be opened and its power revealed to you. How many warriors has Doomhammer sent against you? What clan or clans are they from? And what terrors will you find within the Tomb?

Cho'gall, Drak'thul, Urluk Cloud-killer, and the rest of your followers look to you. What is your command?



Gul'dan
Level 9001 Warlock
Level 100 Necromancer
Level 60 Shaman

Strength: Weak
Agility: Clumsy
Stamina: Easily winded
Intellect: Tempered with arrogance
Spirit: Pretty darn evil

Clothing
  • Gul'dan's Hood of Triumph (Heroic)
  • Gul'dan's Robe of Triumph (Heroic)
  • Gul'dan's Shoulderpads of Triumph (Heroic)
  • Gul'dan's Gloves of Triumph (Heroic)
  • Gul'dan's Leggings of Triumph (Heroic)
  • Decorative Skulls Impaled on Spikes (Bizarre)

Weapons
  • Goat-headed Staff
  • Dagger

Inventory
  • Shadow Orb
  • Roasted Boar Meat
  • Cracked Shortbow
  • Fishing Pole

Last edited by BaronGrackle; 12-12-2014 at 09:37 AM..
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  #2  
Old 04-01-2014, 09:39 PM
Shroombie Shroombie is offline

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Ride staff like a pony, make lewd gestures.
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Old 04-02-2014, 08:02 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Ride staff like a pony, make lewd gestures.
NEW MOUNT ACQUIRED: Goat-headed Staff


Gul'dan mounted his goat-headed staff like a pony, hinging his elbow upward repeatedly while scratching his thumbclaws against each other--two of the lewdest gestures an orc could make. The 'Gall head of Cho'gall laughed.

'Gall sang, "Scratch and dance and dance and ride, death awaits at evening tide! Bump the grind to snip the snail, all shall fear the--"

"Shut up! Just... shut up!" the Cho' head of Cho'gall interrupted, squinting into the distance. "Can we make out their clan colors yet?"

Another ogre-mage was staring blankly ahead. He was connected to an active Eye of Kilrogg, scouting the approaching vessels. "I see them," he now answered. "They are . . ."

* * * * *

::roll roll::
1. Blackrock Clan
2. Black Tooth Grin Clan
3. Dragonmaw Clan
4. Blackrock, Black Tooth Grin, and Dragonmaw Clans
5. Bleeding Hollow Clan
6. Burning Blade Clan


* * * * *



". . . they are Blackrock Clan, my master. Doomhammer has sent his own warriors against us."

Cho' grumbled. "Who is commanding them?"

The other ogre-mage closed his eyes in concentration.

* * * * *

::roll roll::
1. Orgrim Doomhammer
2. Varok Saurfang
3. Tharbek
4. Jubei'Thos
5. Malkorok
6. Eitrigg


* * * * *

"It's that orc who's been standing around Doomhammer since he became warchief. I didn't hear about him until this year." The ogre-mage looked a little embarrassed. "I don't know his name."

"Tharbek," Cho' supplied automatically. 'Gall cackled with glee.
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Old 04-02-2014, 09:29 AM
Anansi Anansi is offline

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Orb of Venom

Summon a mighty storm to lay waste to Doomhammer's pathetic warriors.
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I was probably just upset about the Horde fleet in the Second War.
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Old 04-02-2014, 10:03 AM
Mark_Romaneck Mark_Romaneck is offline

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Release the kraken
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Megatron: You've forgotten something else: I am your prisoner. I've been granted conditional bail while we look for the Knights of Cybertron. Where in my bail terms does it say—where precisely does it say—that I have to risk my life to save a handful of strangers? Where does it say that?

Skids taps Megatron's Autobot badge.

Skids: Right. There. What does that badge even mean to you? How has wearing it forced you to modify your behaviour? I'm serious! How has being an Autobot in any way prevented you from doing exactly what you want? Because if the answer is "it hasn't"—then nothing you've said or done in the last six months counts for anything.
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Old 04-02-2014, 11:41 AM
Aneurysm Aneurysm is offline

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Begin soulstone farming.
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  #7  
Old 04-03-2014, 08:24 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Tharbek peered through his spyglass. He spotted the distant figures gathered on the far island, smoke rising from its crags. The Stormreaver and Twilight's Hammer had already unloaded their warriors and were standing at the gates to some unusual structure. Tharbek bit his lip. As Doomhammer's second-in-command, he was used to gathering information and presenting it to the warchief. Making critical decisions himself? That was slightly out of his comfort zone.

If he ordered his warriors to row double-time, they might catch Gul'dan by surprise. He shook his head at the thought. They didn't know anything about this place. Maybe Gul'dan had gotten here hours ago and was lying in ambush. Maybe the sea came upon shallow ground or jagged rocks at unexpected places. Maybe there were goblin mines littered under the tides. Tharbek didn't know. He was blind.

"Gul'dan isn't going anywhere," he shouted to the ship crews. "We proceed slow and steady, gather what information we can, and then close the noose. Make for that small isle nearby--we'll land and set up a base camp."

His orcs obeyed, setting course for the nearest land. Soon enough they would have a solid base, and he would advance against Gul'dan's forces on his own terms.

Just that moment the sea began to chop at a different rhythm. The transport galleys lifted and fell more harshly than before. Clouds crackled with thunder, and Tharbek felt a few drops of rain trickle on his head. It was at that moment he noticed the sky had darkened completely.
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Old 04-03-2014, 08:24 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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"Come. Let us show them why we bear the name Stormreaver."

Gul'dan extended his arms level to the horizon. He spread his fingers and reached out his essence, stretching to touch the ocean surrounding them all. His mouth curled into a smile. The elements in Azeroth were so... so different than those on Draenor. They were open, unresisting, weak in will. And yet, simultaneously, they wielded such indomitable physical power. Gul'dan's fellow warlocks gathered beside him--the handful of orcs who had escaped the purges, along with the scores of newly-formed death knights and ogre-magi. His progeny. Just as they had together lifted the Tomb from the ocean floor, so now they stirred the surrounding waters into a frenzy. The whirlpools took on an almost magnetic quality, pulling drops and then deluge from the blackening clouds above. Yes, the very sky itself turned dark, unable to deny the manifestation below. For a brief moment, Gul'dan remembered the rush he had once felt as a young shaman. For what was godhood, if not the heavens bowing to the will of the earth?


Beside him, Cho'gall extended his own arms. "Brothers, let us take part in this taste of oblivion!"
"Taste! See! Smell! Oblivion all, oblivion always!"

The ogre-magi and death knights of the Twilight's Hammer took their places beside the Stormreavers, contributing their power to the storm before them. The sea rose against the Blackrock fleet on the distant isle, in furious tidal waves. Cho'gall continued speaking over the deafening cacophony.

"Brothers! We, the Twilight's Hammer, the world's instrument of its own devastation..."
"Wield the hammer! Be the hammer!"
"...sparing neither animal nor plant, nor even matter already dead."
"Shoes, ships, ceiling wax! Cabbages and kings!"
"For when the sea turns boiling hot..."
"And if the sea is boiling hot..."
"...the land shall quake in its final death throes!"
"...and whether fish have tusks!"
"The sun shall swell, then falter, and then fall like all else."
"Sunday Sunday Sunday! Come one come all!"
"As inevitably as it rises and set in our current age."
"Tickets on sale now! Buy a bundle and scalp 'em at the gates! Don't trust the economy!"
"We shall carry with us the many waters as one single body, to cleanse from this world all impurities!"
"Full body cleanse! Like eating an orange peel! Defecate that sucker out!"
"And existence itself, thus broken, will not be even capable of pleading for clemency."
"Feces, feces everywhere! Chunks on your face and your clothes!"
"Which is just as well, for there can be no mercy from the inevitable."
"Filthy, disgusting feces! On your skin and your teeth!"


Finally the storm ran its course, leaving only wreckage where the Blackrock fleet had been. Cho' turned, quizzically regarding his counterpart.

"Gul'dan, I think something's wrong with my other head."


"What? Let me see," Gul'dan answered. With both hands, he brought down his goat staff to **SMACK** Cho's head. Then he **SMACKED** the head with his staff again, in a backhand motion. "How's that?"


"Oww! What in all the hells?!"
"Hells and bells and puppy-dog tails!"
"Why'd you hit me with your stupid staff?!"
"Stupidity and emptiness! All knowledge is folly!"


"Let this be a lesson, Cho'gall. In the future, try to make your loser head be more like this winner here." Gul'dan gestured to the one-eye, beak-nosed head.


"This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous! Foolhardy! Also kind of awesome!"
"We should return to the task at hand."
"A task at hand is worth two in the bush!"
"Look, Doomhammer's warriors are wrecked and vulnerable on that distant isle, and we could easily finish them by combining our forces. It shall be simple, for they are already landlocked. I can..."


"Silence!" Gul'dan screamed, bringing his goat-cane down in a deliberate motion to **SMACK** Cho' in the face once again. One of the ogre's teeth skipped across the dirt and landed in the sea. Another item, a small orb, also fell out of his beltpouch. Gul'dan eyed it suspiciously. "And what is this, pray tell?"


Cho'gall was rubbing the side of his Cho' face, which had begun to swell. "It is a Soulstone, my master. Of course you recognize it."

"Of course I do," Gul'dan agreed. "Why do you have one? Do you fear death?"

Cho'gall shrugged. "Master, none of us knows what fate lies in store this expedition."
"Destruction! Annihilation! Obliteration! All ends in oblivion, sweet oblivion!"
"Maybe our unarmed ships would sink beneath the sea. Maybe I'd take an axe to the chest. I just wanted a little insurance in case things go poorly."
"Insurance for the poor! Tax credits, roth IRAs, ignorant dreams of social security!"

Gul'dan nodded. "Very true, Cho'gall. It is of utmost importance to prepare for the worst. And that is why I'm confiscating this." He snatched Soulstone with a greedy vigor. "Now," Gul'dan turned to face the assembled Stormreaver and Twilight's Hammer Clans, holding his new stone so that everyone could see. "Who else brought one of these?"

I turned out 7 others had a Soulstone on them. Gul'dan confiscated them with little fanfare.


"Master, the choice still stands before us. Do we finish off the Blackrock dogs once and for all? Do we leave them behind and continue into the Tomb? Shall we stay together, or separate our forces to cover both objectives?


"Cho'gall, my eager student. Did you believe I had not already planned for this?!" Gul'dan turned to face one of his warlocks. "Drak'thul, the time has come: RELEASE THE KRAKEN!"


The young warlock dipped his head obediently. "Yes, master! RELEASING THE KRAKEN!!!"


"Kraken? What's a kraken?"
"Kraken, flaken, braken, schlaken, mrak--"
"Shut up! Dear gods shut up, so help me . . ."


Then, from beneath the tides, the creature revealed itself.





"Whoa."
"Whoa-hoa, ha ha!"


"I know, right? Pretty awesome!" Drak'thul snorted.


Gul'dan rubbed his hands together deviously. "Now behold, my minions, as this mighty kraken finishes off the final remains of Doomhammer's forces on yonder isle. Bwa. Bwa-ha, ha! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!"

Cho' rubbed his swelling cheek and didn't say anything. Yet, somehow, Gul'dan could feel the questions silently in the air. Would the kraken really go after the Blackrocks on that distant isle, instead of just turning around and attacking his own forces? How many of their resources had this kraken cost them? If he planned to use a kraken all along, why did he expend so much magic on that epic storm a few mere minutes ago? Wouldn't he need some of that magical energy or some of those resources to face the horrors of Sargeras's tomb? Was there anything living under the seas here, any foreign creature or race that could be angered or awakened by the storm and the kraken's release? And weren't they just around the corner from Kul Tiras, the island nation that had held naval supremacy since the beginning of the war?

Of course these were all stupid questions, so Gul'dan didn't dwell on them. His main dilemma was figuring out what to do next. Did he have the patience and confidence to watch the Kraken dispose of the Blackrocks' remains, before pursuing the treasures of Sargeras? Or was speed the more important factor?

Last edited by BaronGrackle; 04-03-2014 at 08:37 AM..
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  #9  
Old 04-03-2014, 09:16 AM
Anansi Anansi is offline

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Orb of Venom

Check your soulstone to make sure it's safe and then book it for the tomb.
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And the HRE was a meme that went too far.
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You are pretty cool for being one of the bad guys.
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I was probably just upset about the Horde fleet in the Second War.
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Old 04-03-2014, 09:28 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Check your soulstone to make sure it's safe and then book it for the tomb.
8 soulstones.
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Old 04-03-2014, 09:34 AM
Anansi Anansi is offline

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Orb of Venom

If you steal a guy's soulstone, does it revive the guy or does it revive you?
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And the HRE was a meme that went too far.
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You are pretty cool for being one of the bad guys.
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I was probably just upset about the Horde fleet in the Second War.
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Old 09-19-2014, 08:30 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Shadow Orb

Present Day . . .



"Did you know you were addictive, daemon? Addictive to this world?"

The daemon was face-forward on the ground, Bluh'gall's hefty foot on the back of his shoulders. The ogre-mage was holding both of the daemon's arms from behind and pulling backward, so that the creature had to look upon Gul'dan standing before him. Gul'dan himself had been thrown from 'Gall when the ogre and daemon collided. 'Gall had managed to overpower the fiend, no doubt aided by enchantments the surrounding Stormreaver and Twilight's Hammer spellcasters had empowered him with when the fight began. The daemon itself was under the influence of a bloodlust - cast of course by Bluh'gall, who had grown overly excited at a climactic moment during their fight.


"The elements of this world hate you and want to destroy you, and yet it seems they can never say no to just one, more, taste!"

Gul'dan extended his claws. The daemon screamed as it was illuminated by fire, electricity, and decomposition.

"They so much want to eat you, little daemon. They say your taint is foreign and disgusting, but they crave you so very much. And I have promised you to them."

Again the daemon shrieked, the atmosphere around it solidifying into acid and jagged ice, roots and maggots sprouting from seemingly nowhere within its organs. Yes, the world very much wanted to consume this creature's essence. Even Gul'dan himself was a little tempted, remembering the taste of Mannoroth's blood against his throat.

"But you don't have to die today, daemon. I have an offer for you instead. You will serve me as my slave, bound to my will alone. In exchange, I offer my protection. I will prevent the elements from devouring you - for they will happily forgo an appetizer for the promise of a feast!" Gul'dan stared into the depths of the tomb. "A feast on the remains of the greatest, most intoxicating daemonlord of them all. A feast which you shall help me acquire."


"Foolish mortal. Do you even know in whose tomb you stand?"


"You ask if I know of Sargeras?" Gul'dan lowered his face so that it was on level with the daemon's. His own eyes glowed a crimson aura. "Daemon, to you Sargeras is an abstract. A legend. For me? I have been inside his mind - I know all that he knows. I have felt him die, and I have died within him due to his own weakness. Now, while he remains dead, it is I who have recovered to stand before you. One more chance, daemon! Are you my slave, or are you meat?"


"Very well, mortal. I am bound to your service. But heed my warning: this world has been marked for oblivion by the Burning Legion. Its destiny lies onl..."


"DESTRUCTION! DEATH! OBLIVION, SWEET OBLIVION! ONLY OBLIVION! OBLIVION NOW, OBLIVION ALWAYS! OBLIVION FOR YOU AND FOR ME! OBLIVION FOR ALL!" Still holding the daemon's arms from behind, Bluh'gall removed his foot from the creature's back and stomped repeatedly into the back of its head, slamming the head against the tomb's stone floor. "OBLIVION FOR YOUR TINY! PATHETIC! LEGION! IN THE MASTER'S NAME, I PROMISE! THIS! OBLIVION! TO YOU!"

Fortunately, Gul'dan had woven an Unholy Armor before 'Gall began his proclamation, so that the daemon's head was not grounded into a fine paste. A good thing, too. It would have been a shame to have wasted all that time.





"Quickly, you fools!" Gul'dan strode through the tomb's entry hall. He was followed by his trusty ogre-mage Bluh'Gall, by a battered daemon slave, and by the blue and violet banners of two mighty clans. "Fan out and search every primary passageway! We must reach the chamber of the eye before the rest of the tomb's guardians awaken!"


"Guardians?" one of the warlocks, Urluk Cloud-killer, asked hesitantly. "You said nothing of guardians!"


"We just encountered one on the way in, moron."


"What? Oh... you mean, the daemon?"


"Hmph. Imbecile."


"Urluk, why do you look like a shaman?"


"A shaman? I just killed some puppies and crafted one of them into a hat. I figured, you know, because we were evil and stuff."


"Ah. I guess that makes sense."

Gul'dan pointed his staff toward Urluk, releasing a ball of felfire his direction. The fireball slammed into the hapless warlock, sending his now-lifeless body into the nearby wall.


"Look, master!" Drak'thul spoke. "There are three sealed gates before us. One to the north, one to the east, and one to the south. Do you still want us to fan out into each passageway? How would you like us to divide?"



It was a valid question. Gul'dan considered the three passageways before him. North, east, and south. How would he proceed?

As he looked down each passageway, his eye kept glancing back to the bare walls that surrounded the fork. The bare, empty walls. Gul'dan couldn't quite explain it, but he felt some sort of... compulsion to write something down on those walls. He wasn't sure why... but he felt like he had no choice but to write something there, or it would gnaw at his mind for the rest of his time in the tomb.

Also, what was that Daemon companion's name? It had mentioned it before, but Gul'dan wasn't paying attention. What WAS that name?

Last edited by BaronGrackle; 09-22-2014 at 08:15 AM..
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  #13  
Old 09-26-2014, 01:27 AM
Sceptic Sceptic is offline

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Wouldn't a Odin-like Gul'dan be cool?

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Old 09-26-2014, 03:45 AM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Wouldn't a Odin-like Gul'dan be cool?
I am interpreting this as a vote for "try to do what Odin would do".
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Old 09-26-2014, 04:33 AM
Sceptic Sceptic is offline

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I am interpreting this as a vote for "try to do what Odin would do".
Odin crippled and killed himself for higher wisdom and power. An example: Maybe Gul'dan kills himself, watches the afterlife, ressurects himself as an undead and does some crazy things with his new knowledge and immortality?

Last edited by Sceptic; 09-26-2014 at 04:57 AM..
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Old 09-27-2014, 01:23 PM
ZhulDjinn ZhulDjinn is offline

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Each clan goes one way, and Gul'Dan goes with a few guys he likes, Bluh Gall and the daemon to the remaining one.
Also the demon is called Karn.
\o\
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Old 10-28-2014, 01:09 PM
BaronGrackle BaronGrackle is offline

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Shadow Orb


"It is a gift," gleamed the young Thunderlord warlock.

"A gift, Vorpil?" Gul'dan scrutinized the object in front of him.

"A display of gratitude, for the brave new path you have set our people upon."

It was a perfectly round orb, its exterior granting a hue of violet blackness. As Gul'dan gazed into that dark, it filled him with a pang of emptiness that was, somehow, appetizing to both his physical and magical senses.

"Magnificent. How did you form it?"

Vorpil smiled. "All of us on the Shadow Council pooled our efforts into its creation. It contains the essences of ourselves, as tempered by the new magicks. It is a harvest of the shadow of our souls, siphoned from the black energies of this plane, not enough to actually possess our spirits but enough to channel the personal darkness that empowers us."

"Very inventive of you." Gul'dan trailed a finger along the Orb's outside surface. "The entire Shadow Council? Including the 'First' Circle?"

Kur'kul, another warlock attending, gave a clear nod. "Blackhand and Bladefist were eager to participate, and the other chieftain-members required little coaxing."

The orc named Skargax looked pestered. "Some of us doubt they were worth approaching. They are uninitiated in our magiks. We do not summon them to every meeting. In truth, they are hardly members of the Council. What could their essences have contributed, really?"

Another orc, Teron'gor, made a thoughtful noise from his throat, "We discovered something unexpected toward the end of the crafting. Gul'dan, try holding the orb in your fist."

The old warlock did so. Within a few seconds, his eyes widened with an overwhelming rush of... physical strength? Yes. He felt much, much stronger than he had a moment ago.

"I feel... like I could rip the head off an ogre with my bare hands," Gul'dan whispered in awe.

Another warlock, Gaz'sol, nodded excitedly. "Exactly!" He leaned forward. "And what else? Do you feel the other thing?"

"I feel..." Gul'dan tightened his grip on the Orb. "I feel like... like if I fired a magical bolt, it would rip apart a stone wall!"

"Yes! But it's not your full range of spellcasting that feels stronger, right?" Gaz'sol continued with a grin. "It is just your most basic, primal spell? The one you would instinctively turn to when pressured?"

"Exactly," Gul'dan frowned in thought.

"Almost as if," continued Gaz'sol, still excited, "as if it is enhancing anything you perceive as a basic 'attack'. So it'll pick up if you are swinging a fist or an axe, or throwing a spear or firing a bow, or even calling on your go-to attack spell. But somehow, when you channel the more complicated magiks, they don't register as an 'attack'. Almost like the Orb activates or deactivates based on the part of your brain used, during the battle. The entire concept is revolutionary, we can learn so much from stud--"

Gaz'sol exploded from the waist up. His lower body and legs shifted slightly, then toppled over. He had been right! Gul'dan's basic shadow bolt WAS considerably more powerful while he was holding the Orb!

"Truly amazing," Gul'dan murmured to himself. With a raised eyebrow, he looked to each of his companions across the meeting table. "But this is what I don't understand. What made you conceive of such an idea? What inspired you to create this?"

A few of the higher-powered warlocks glanced at each other. Teron'gor answered, "Gul'dan, it was you who told us that we need no longer be slaves to the elements or the ancestors. Yet still, even with this new warlock magic, there is something binding us. We rely on the cooperation of these creatures to empower us. But this Shadow Orb, it is a step away from that. It channels all of our power as shamans and warlocks, as hunters and warriors, and focuses them like an enlarging lens. To any orc, it is the key to wielding an army's strength without relying on a clan. To us, it is the key to wielding a spellcaster's magic without relying on outside forces."

A smirk crossed Gul'dan's face, but he kept his true thoughts to himself. "A worthy explanation. Good work from all of you." Gul'dan began to sip from a jar of wine. "I just have one more question. If I awake from this dream alive, is this Shadow Orb powerful enough to kill the dreadlord attacking us?"

There was silence for a lingering moment. Then after coughing quietly, Teron'gor said, "Master, the Orb is culminated power from the Shadow Council and the orcish race itself. And you, Gul'dan, are considered the greatest of our castors." The warlock shrugged, "If you, within the cloak of the Shadow Orb, cannot destroy this daemon, perhaps you don't deserve the prize you seek."

Gul'dan scowled. "And do you have anything useful to say on the matter, Teron'gor?"

"Actually, you should remember that I changed my name after becoming a warlock. I am now called 'Teron Gorefiend'."

Gul'dan rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's right. You became a warlock and picked up a hip new name, because you wanted to be edgy."

"No, I wanted to have a last name."

"Well now you do. And it's retarded."

"No, using apostrophes as syllable markers is retarded." Teron answered sharply.

Gul'dan hissed, "Such cheek. You're probably off somewhere perfectly comfortable now, as I struggle to subjugate these daemons."

"Off hunting your treasures, you mean. Come, Gul'dan, you are the one who raced to find your Tomb and left me with Doomhammer. He is none too pleased with you, by the way."

"I'm sure," Gul'dan answered. "But you're not even really here, are you? Just a figment of memory, in this prison of daemon-induced dreaming."

"A figment, am I?" Teron smiled and, though his visage clearly remained that of a living orc, something about his grin contorted to resemble the human corpse that Gul'dan knew he now inhabited. "You crafted me as I am now, and I am the firstborn of such creations. Perhaps this places a special bond between us---for though I am indeed standing beside Doomhammer as we speak, reassuring him of my loyalty, you seem to have simultaneously summoned my mind to your own thoughts.

"Intriguing," Gul'dan murmured.

Teron turned to face the other members of the Shadow Council, who appeared to still be reenacting their past meeting though their voices had muted. "I have wandered the vastness of the Twisting Nether, Gul'dan, so it stirs me to find you in such a bound state of unnatural sleep. Perhaps one of your minions could give you a cut to the face, to wake you?"

Gul'dan grumbled, "Terrific idea. Now if only you could communicate that to one of them, instead of to me."

"Indeed. So now, I had best leave you. I don't want to accidentally be inside your mind when you get killed."

"Always hilarious, Teron."

"Try using the Orb to melt his face off," Teron suggested, even as his aura was fading out of Gul'dan's vision. "Whenever you wake up, try that. Melt his face off this time."

Last edited by BaronGrackle; 10-28-2014 at 03:06 PM..
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