Grim'batuul

Laskor (Younger Brother)

Work In Progress

Grim'batuul is an orc warlock, a doctor, and a scholar of magic residing within Orgrimmar. He is a former member of the Blackrock Clan, and experienced from 55 years of life and a veterancy in The First, Second, and Third wars. Grim'batuul, though a skilled and powerful warlock in his own right, particularly specializes in a strange combination of medicine and warlock magics. Using necromancy and fel power, Grim'batuul can help his fellow members of The Horde recover from virtually any injury, though not without a price.

Though his methods see him as an outcast by much of his society, Grim'batuul is motivated by a patriotism and loyalty to his people and to The Horde. Just as well, due to his experiencing of the slow, painful fall of the orcish people throughout decades of life, and their current precarious position, Grim'batuul sees the necessity of unscrupulous and ruthless measures as tools to protect, perhaps even save, what remains of his people.

## History

### Upbringing

The orc that would come to be named Grim'batuul was born to the orcs Gaan'lok, his father, a hunter and warrior, and Mara, his mother, a butcher, bone carver, and processor of animal carcasses, both of the Blackrock Clan. Given a birth name known only to the warlock and his family, he was the first child of the couple. While the family was of little to no political importance, as the first son and legacy of the couple, he was raised as well as they were able to manage. Sheltered together with his family within the mountain capital of the Blackrock Clan, Grim'batuul enjoyed a mostly uneventful and happy childhood for seven years. He learned the basic education all orcs of the clan did, whilst learning important skills from his mother and father. How to skin an animal, cook and feed himself, tie a knot, identify plants and animals, and all things which are important for the life of an orc on Draenor that they could teach him. In particular, he would take a liking to the profession of butchery, and would learn much of animal carving, harvesting, identification, and anatomy throughout his life. He would also learn much of the basics of the orcish religion, and their worship of elemental and ancestral spirits. Just before reaching the age of seven, his mother and father would conceive his brother, Laskor.

At the age of seven, Grim'batuul's father would be called to aid in the battle against one of the most fearsome and horrifying beasts on the planet of Draenor, a Gronn, massive creatures with rocky hides and supernatural strength, capable of destroying a village by merely treading upon it. The clan required a small army of experienced warriors, hunters, (much the same thing,) and shaman to destroy it, for one had recently made its lair dangerously close to the capital of the clan. It attacked and marauded the orcish camps, villages, and towns surroundings its lair, and needed to be slain. Gaan'lok would be enlisted to the group tasked with killing it. Terrified at the thought of losing his father, and his mother her husband, Grim'batuul and Mara nonetheless knew the will of the Chieftain could not be defied.

Desperate not to leave his family behind, Gaan'lok would seek the aid of a shaman named Dal'tar. Gaan'lok would beg the shaman for a blessing from the spirits, one that might help him to survive the upcoming battle, so that he might return to his family. Dal'tar would grant Gaan'lok a blessing, telling him that with the spirit's protection, he would be safe-guarded against death. Gaan'lok would return to his family and tell them of the good news, the shaman's blessing, but Grim'batuul would remain unconvinced, still anxious and afraid of losing his father. Gaan'lok would do his best to console him, and gift him with a bronze dagger. The dagger once belonged to Gaan'lok's father, who gave it to him as a gift. Gaan'lok treasured it above all else, and said that no matter what happened, as long as Grim'batuul held this blade, his father would be with him.

Gaan'lok would depart a day later. News would come a week later, of the return of the hunting party. They would return to awe and glorious celebration, as they would return carrying with them the head of the Gronn. Mara and Grim'batuul had left to see their return, and searched amongst the returning orcs for Gaan'lok. Seeing them, a friend of Gaan'lok, among the group, Kaal, would approach the two, and inform them with shame and sadness in his eyes, of the death of Grim'batuul's father.

Apparently, the protection of the spirits had done nothing to help. Gaan'lok was assigned to attack the Gronn's legs, targeting its achilles heel. He was successful, crippling the beast and destroying its tendon, allowing for the rest of the party to kill it. However, whilst the beast fell, it crushed Gaan'lok with its flailing. The party burned what was left of his corpse, as well as the few other casualties. There was solace in that the Gronn was dead, and that Gaan'lok's act had allowed them to claim victory with minimal casualty, but now Grim'batuul and his pregnant mother were alone. The failure of the shaman's blessing, the protection of the spirits, to protect his father, would create in Grim'batuul a skepticism of magic and the spirits that would last the rest of his life.

His mother and him would mourn and grieve, and never truly stop. The loss of his father would leave a void within Grim'batuul's heart, and that of his mother. In his pain, Grim'batuul would become reclusive and brooding, spending much of his time alone or with his mother, helping her with her work of butchering the kills of Blackrock hunters. Months later, his mother would give birth to his younger brother, Laskor, with the aid of a midwife. This development would give Grim'batuul and his mother a new lease on life. Taking care of his younger brother and mother became the young orc's new purpose.

Grim'batuul would work to learn the family trade, feed and take care of his brother. More importantly, with a better understanding of the dangers of the world, he would seek to learn how to defend his family. After his father's death, Gaan'lok's friend and hunting partner, Kaal, would from time to time visit the family, sometimes with his own family of a mate and three children, two sons and a daughter, so that they might bring comfort to the family, and perhaps even make friends. Kaal would bring all his kills to Mara and Grim'batuul for butchering, and give them gifts of food and supplies, in honor of his departed friend. Seeing an opportunity to learn the arts of the warrior in order to protect his family, Grim'batuul would petition Kaal for training and apprenticeship under him. Kaal would accept, happy to teach the son of his old friend.

Grim'batuul, at eight years old, would apprentice under Kaal. Much of his time would still be spent taking care of his brother and his mother, helping in the family business, but at least twice a week, Grim'batuul would leave to be trained by Kaal in the arts of hunting, survival, and fighting. He adopted a routine of exercise, and even for his age, began to become strong. He would make friends with Kaal's sons, Darmok and Kanus, aged 9 and 7 respectively, who would be his training and hunting partners for much of his apprenticeship. Honoring his father, Grim'batuul would use Gaan'lok's bronze dagger for much of his practice.

Taking on the role of patriarch for his family, Grim'batuul had found new life, his purpose had created in him a passion and happiness he hadn't experienced since the death of his father. He was proud of himself, and his mother proud of him. He would remain apprenticed under Kaal and his mother Mara for six years. His friendship with Darmok and Kanus would strengthen, and his relationship with Kaal would become that of a nephew and an uncle. An adolescent of fourteen years of age, he had become a strong and capable orc, having hunted larger and larger game as he matured. His brother was now six years old, and Grim'batuul had come to take on a paternal figure for his brother. He and his mother would teach young Laskor the ways of the world, while still working hard to take care of him and provide for their family.

Grim'batuul's life would soon take a drastic change. An outbreak of The Red Pox would strike the Blackrock Clan, a terrible and deadly plague. It would spread throughout the mountain home, leaving many of the denizens of the clan weak and ailing. Thousands would be left dead, but in particular, the disease would strike Laskor. It was a threat Grim'batuul had never before dealt with. His brother was dying from a hidden and unstrikable foe. Grim'batuul would petition a local shaman for aid. The shaman would inform him, solemnly, that the disease was beyond his power. Returning to his brother, his mother Mara watched over him. She had survived through outbreaks of the disease before, and knew, unlike her son, that death was almost always inevitable upon contraction, and Laskor was only six years old. Grim'batuul grieved, raged, and suffered through the crippling anguish of his brother's impending death.

Laskor would not last long, the constitution of a child didn't stand a chance against the dark magics of the Red Pox. Laskor died within a week of contracting the disease. He would be tended to in the customary way, burned upon a pyre, his soul left to join the spirits. Once again, the void that had been filled, was now empty within the hearts of Mara and Grim'batuul. Their grieving, their despair at their loss would never truly fade. Kaal and his family would come to comfort them, but once again, Grim'batuul would fall in to a stupor of sadness and reclusion. He would do as was expected of him, training, working with his mother, but much of hims time in the months after his brother's death would be spent brooding, venting his angers, his fears, and his despair. He would contemplate his mistakes, what he could have done, his life, his purpose, and all those questions which arise in one's mind in the face of such tragedy.

The Red Pox would pass. Several months after Laskor's death, Grim'batuul and his mother Mara, would slowly recover, returning to their duties with some manner of contentedness. Things would never be the same, but they had each other, and friends within the clan. Their purpose to the clan remained the same as well, and they tried to find solace in helping others. However, for Grim'batuul, training in the ways of a warrior no longer satisfied him. He still understood its value, but it was now that he fully understood that physical might alone was not enough to protect that which he valued. He would take up the craft of medicine and healing, hoping to use it to protect those he cherished from invisible threats.

Grim'batuul would speak to the local shaman, seeking to gain an apprenticeship under him. The shaman would, quite bluntly, inform him that the spirits saw nothing within him, dismissing the boy. Grim'batuul, furious, but knowing he could do nothing without severe consequence, searched instead for an elder. He found the local medicine woman, Tarna, an elder orc who had already given birth to four children. Grim'batuul begged her to take him as an apprentice. Surprised, but pleased, Tarna would accept, teaching him the arts of practical medicine.

Nearly every waking moment now it seemed, Grim'batuul was working. He did not have as much time for training with Kaal and his sons as before, but did not abandon it, still visiting them at least once a week to train for nearly an entire day's time. He would visit Tarna twice a week, and the rest would be dedicated to helping his mother. However, for as much as he learned and for as long as he labored, he would never learn of a cure, or even a treatment, for the Red Pox. Tarna told him it was incurable, simply to be avoided, but young and stubborn as he was, he refused to accept it. He would research and study, but a cure would continue to allude him.

With his adolescence ahead of him and the majority of his sorrows behind him, at the age of fifteen, Grim'batuul would begin to fancy the daughter of Kaal, a fourteen year-old girl named Lanara. Though before he had little interest in her, focusing instead on his training and his friendship with Kaal's sons, with Laskor gone and his affection for the fairer sex developing, he would begin to grow closer to her. Lanara too, would begin to reciprocate. Grim'batuul found Lanara to be the substance his life needed. Lanara, even as an orc, was rather delicate. She worked as a leather-worker, apprenticed under her mother, and though taught basic survival skills, she had no interest in combat or war. She was kind and affectionate, happy to please, and somewhat innocent. Grim'batuul grew very fond of her, and courted her for a year's time. Kaal, understanding what was going on, would approve, deeming Grim'batuul a fine mate for his daughter. Lanara had returned his affections, and so the two were betrothed. Not truly mates, but once they were of age, they would be declared life-mates.

Once again, passion and life had returned to Grim'batuul, and even his mother seemed much happier, knowing that her son had found love, and might provide her with grand-children. Three years would pass, with Grim'batuul living a happy life once again. He was now nineteen, and Lanara eighteen. Him and Lanara had reached the age of adult-hood, and become mates. Lanara now lived with Grim'batuul and his mother Mara. Grim'batuul had passed the hunter's trial, finding and slaying a great talbuk. Though he still had much to learn if he was ever to become a great warrior, he would be fierce in a physical fight. His apprenticeship under Kaal had ended. He had learned enough medicine from Tarna that he could now be considered a full apprentice of mundane healing, and was even being paid. Even his skill as a butcher aided him in this respect. Many patients with less serious injuries would now be sent to him for treatment, which he could now provide competently. He was an adult, and he was ready to live a full and happy life.

Or, at least, he was. Once again, an outbreak of The Red Pox struck the mountain home of the Blackrock Orcs. It was much smaller this time, killing perhaps a few hundred, but Grim'batuul was unlucky. His mother had contracted the disease. An older woman, her time on this world would likely be short. Unwilling to accept the possibility of her death, he once again ventured out to look for help, anywhere he could get it. Shamans, medicine men and women, even the rare few survivors of the disease. None could help, but just when he thought all hope was lost, he was approached by an orc he had never met before. He wore simple leather robes, and seemed somewhat anxious. He told Grim'batuul he could help his mother. He would give him a charm, enchanted with a spell that would cure her of her illness. He would give it to him, but only if Grim'batuul swore that he would take an apprenticeship under him.

Grim'batuul was skeptical, but eager and desperate for a way to save his mother. He accepted, but asked what apprenticeship under him would entail. The orc simply explained, that he would teach him of powers great enough to protect all he held dear. Grim'batuul remained skeptical and nervous, but nonetheless, knew had no other choice. The mysterious orc told him the words necessary to activate the charm, and where to meet him and when, and that if he didn't, there would be consequences. He quickly disappeared, and Grim'batuul returned home to use the charm. His mother was asleep, fatigued by the disease. He wielded the charm in front of her, and spoke the phrase the orc had given him.

Immediately, the charm began to glow and shake, strange runes dancing across it. From his mother, a strange, pitch-black energy would be expelled through her mouth, eyes, and ears, traveling in to the charm. Once it was done, the charm glowed a dull black. Putting it away, he tended to his mother, waiting for her to awake. The pox had disappeared from her skin. When she awoke, she seemed healthy and refreshed. Relieved and elated, Grim'batuul hugged his mother, and together they enjoyed a tender moment.

Grim'batuul did not deign to tell Mara, or Lanara, of the strange orc and his charm. They merely believed it was a miracle of chance, or the spirits had cured her out of mercy. He knew that if this secretive orc wished to hide whatever magic gave him the ability to cure The Red Pox, it may be for a good reason. Now, whereas he had been skeptical before, Grim'batuul now looked forward to his meeting with the orc with excitement, if some apprehension. His powers could cure The Red Pox, and if what he said was true, allow him to protect all that which he loved. With such power, he might never need to grieve again. Now motivated, Grim'batuul awaited the day eagerly.

The day would come, and Grim'batuul would meet with the orc in a small, hidden cleft within the mountain. The orc would introduce himself as Lozzox. He would then introduce Grim'batuul to the art of the warlock. He would teach him of the powers of shadow and fel magics, of their applications, and the even greater potential power it could bring to bear under a true master. Grim'batuul was conflicted. This magic was clearly powerful, and though its power seemed to be centered on destruction and combat, it could also destroy and purge that which was evil, like the Red Pox. Regardless, he had made an oath, and began his apprenticeship.

He was a full master butcher under his mother by this point, and had slowly been taking over the business, doing most of the actual butchery work. When there wasn't a need, or his mother or Lanara could do the work, he would leave to train under Tarna, as well as Lozzox, under the guise of meditation. He would learn the fel powers of the warlock, but in particular, he would experiment in and study the uses of this magic for healing and restoration, combing it with his knowledge of anatomy and medicine from his work as a butcher, and his training under Tarna. Things had almost fallen off course, but through this new power, Grim'batuul had saved his mother, and had a promising future as a butcher and medicine man ahead of him. Time would only tell if his life would continue to remain peaceful, but if history and the state of Draenor was any indication, it would not.

### The Rise of The Horde

Two years later, the orcish Horde would begin its formation. At a meeting between the leaders of the clans, Ner'zhul and nearly all of the shaman present spoke of messages they had received from the ancestor spirits, that one of the local peoples, the Draenei, planned to destroy them. Grim'batuul had had no experience with the Draenei, and knew little of them, but the Blackrock Clan was one of the first to begin attacking them. Though there were yet no conscriptions, groups of orc volunteers, war-bands, had been formed to attack the Draenei. Among them were Darmok and Kanus, the sons of his adoptive uncle, Kaal, and his friends for much of his late childhood and the entirety of his adolescence. Kaal did not join. Kaal had told Grim'batuul stories of peaceful meetings with the Draenei, and Grim'batuul speculated that this was why. He could not say if they were deserving of death himself, and did not wish to draw the attention of Chief Blackhand to himself through dissent.

As time would pass, more and more of the orcs would leave to fight the Draenei, some of them never returning. Even stranger, however, was when Lozzox called him to a different meeting place. There, not only was Lozzox present, but several other orcs, including Chief Blackhand, and the new Chieftain of the Shadowmoon Clan, Gul'dan. Blackhand and Gul'dan, knowing they needed no introduction, told us that we were some of the first orcish warlocks. Soon, the power of the warlock would become known to all of the clans. They gave us the news that the powers of the shaman had begun to fail upon the front line, and was weakening all around the planet. The powers of the warlock, of fel and shadow, would come to replace them. It was the solemn duty of these gathered few to prepare, for they would come with Gul'dan to the first Kosh'harg festival of the next year, where we would demonstrate our powers for the other orcs. Soon, Grim'batuul would have no need to keep his powers hidden.

After the meeting, the attacks against the Draenei continued escalating. In an election arranged by Gul'dan, Blackhand would be elected War Chief, single total leader of the orcish military efforts. The military union of the orcs had come to be known as The Horde. Worryingly, Grim'batuul had noticed a strange phenomenon. His skin, and that of Lozzox and a few other orcs he had noticed, had begun to turn green. Flaking skin revealed a light green underneath, and with time, he saw that it was deepening. When asked, Lozzox explained it was a minor side effect of such power, and that appearances would soon no longer matter. Though still concerned, Lozzox would answer no more of his questions. Quietly to himself, Grim'batuul wondered if there were not greater consequences in store.

Gul'dan's Kosh'harg festival was upon them. Grim'batuul would make preparations to leave for a few weeks, before departing to travel with Lozzox. At Nagrand, Grim'batuul would enjoy his first Kosh'harg festival, having never been a person of enough importance to justify visiting in his busy schedule. However, there was little time for festivities. Once most of the important leaders were present, Gul'dan began preparing his presentation. Caged Draenei were held at a location near the festival, and the warlocks were herded towards it. Gul'dan informed them of how the presentation would go, when to do what, and how. Mainly, this involved using their powers to kill the Draenei within the cages. Grim'batuul had never seen them before, and found their appearance to be strange and unnerving, but was still not certain he wished to kill them. He had been first raised to trust the spirits, as well as the shaman, but his trust in such things had abandoned him in his life-time.

Fortunately, it did not matter. Other warlocks would be responsible for the bulk of the presentation, it would seem he was there as a warm body. Once it started, one of the warlocks demonstrated the power of fel fire upon the Draenei. Grim'batuul could not help but feel sorry for it. Its screams of agony were painful, as was the vision of its flesh melting off its bones. He knew that these powers within the grasp of a warlock, he had even used it on animals as practice, but it was terrifying, not fascinating, when used against something that begged for its life, held in a cage and capable of posing no threat to anyone. Some orcs were quiet, bearing faces of quiet terror, others seemed excited at the prospect of having such power. Many flocked to the practitioners, seeking to wield this power for themselves. For now, our work here was done. Lozzox and I returned home shortly after. Blackhand spread the news of the adoption of warlocks in to The Horde, and over-night they began to show up. Orcs with green skin, moving about and openly discussing their magics. However, for a time, Grim'batuul's life returned to its daily routine, if only for a few months.

By now, Lanara and Mara had noticed Grim'batuul's skin, and made the connection between it and this new magic. Lanara, though skeptical and uncertain of whether this new magic was safe, still loved her mate, and so stood beside him. His mother, however, was skeptical, and afraid of this new power. Though she did not hate her son, her concern for him and his life's path was great. She would spend much of her time attempting to dissuade him. She had heard of what this magic could do, and did not believe such evil magic was safe. Grim'batuul would tell her the story of how a warlock charm was able to save her from the Red Pox however, and she would begrudgingly accept it, even if she did not like it. Wishing for his mother to be proud of him, Grim'batuul would try to convince her of the positive and beneficial aspects of his powers, and to this end would study the art of healing through his magic with an even greater vigor, in the hopes that he might put his mother at ease.

After a few months, Lozzox would inform Grim'batuul of their conscription. They were to aid the Blackrock Clan against the Draenei using their magic. They were to depart right away. Grim'batuul told his family of the news.They despaired, but they knew the will of the clan couldn't be ignored. They bid him farewell, and he left the next day with Lozzox and an orc war-band. Amongst them was his old friend, Kanus. He asked him where Darmok was, and Kanus informed him, rage and despair obvious upon his face, that he had been killed fighting one of the Draenei. It was clear that he sought revenge. Grim'batuul and Darmok would still take the opportunity to catch up and rekindle some of their old friendship while they marched. The time for such joy would pass quickly. The war-band of orcs would pass through several Draenei villages within the Talador region. Lozzox and Grim'batuul together would kill hundreds of Draenei before returning home. Villages were razed, men, women and children were slaughtered, the corpses of the Draenei left to rot, their homes looted. Grim'batuul, honorable as he was, refused to aid in killing all but the armed warriors and battle-mages. Lozzox refused as well, though perhaps only because he felt it beneath him.

Together with Lozzox and Grim'batuul, the casualties for the war-band were minimal, although the orcs had only attacked villages, convoys, patrols, and travelers. However, during the fighting, Grim'batuul had noticed a peculiar tendency within the orcs. Some of them seemed to enjoy causing pain to others. While there were many still who saw this only as a duty which needed to be done, some orcs seemed eager to cause death and pain. It was not mere lust for combat, for this applied not only to the warriors of the Draenei, but their defenseless civilians. It was a lust for blood, and Grim'batuul had not seen anything like it in person. It disturbed him, but he rationalized it as the violent tendencies of these few volunteers, and that he had simply been unfortunate that there were so many in his band in particular. Only orcs like these would reasonably volunteer for this slaughter.

Once they had completed their mission, the war-band returned home. Grim'batuul and Lozzox were informed soon afterwards that they would be needed again soon. They would have a month to rest before they would need to depart once again. Grim'batuul would return to his family, and spend what time with them he could. He was still training with Tarna, but was coming to the end of his teachings. Lozzox, on the other hand, had much he still wished to teach the orc, and whenever they were alone, he instructed him in the arts of magic, or gave him opportunity to do himself, and so frequently he would return home with material for study.

News came quickly and continuously. The morale of the Draenei had been crushed, and they were abandoning many of their smaller settlements. It was clear from their movements that they would be moving to fortify and hold down within their greatest strongholds, Karabor and Shattrath. Behind the walls of these cities, the Draenei prepared to make their last stand. The absolute destructive power of the warlocks would be necessary to crush the defenses of these cities. Thus, before he was even given the call to war, Grim'batuul prepared to be sent to these places, along with Lozzox, to break open their walls and fortifications. The call soon came.

Lozzox came to Grim'batuul early in the morning, along with a detachment of grunts. They were to leave immediately, to attack the Draenei whilst they were still disorganized and disoriented. With a small goodbye, he would depart with the main Blackrock army on its march to Shadowmoon Valley. There, they would meet and merge with the armies of the other clans, before preparing their siege.

After a long march, they arrived at the lands of the Shadowmoon Clan. During the march, Grim'batuul noticed the inclusion of ogres amongst their forces, who now marched with them. He had heard rumors of such an alliance being brokered, but did not imagine it would truly come to pass. But now, at least, perhaps these ogres could suffer injuries in the place of his fellow orcs, if the ogres did not simply crush their new allies by accident.

Just as The Horde began to organize itself, catastrophe struck. From a volcano at the center of Shadowmoon Valley, arose the Great Firelord, Cyrukh. The elemental spirits had pooled their powers within him, in a stand against the orcs. Grim'batuul did not know precisely all the crimes that had been perpetrated against the elements to justify such a retaliation, but he knew that the orcs had abandoned them, and now destroyed the land for their own gain. That was enough.

Fortunately, Grim'batuul himself was convening with the warlocks of The Horde some distance away from the volcano and Cyrukh himself. Quickly, the warlocks, organized by Gul'dan in particular, came up with a plan to deal with the Firelord. Quickly, before The Horde could be annihilated by the raw, elemental fury of Cyrukh, we warlocks conducted a spell, and traveled to the slopes of the volcano. Conducting a grand ritual, we broke the elemental lord a part with a grand infusion of fel. The land broke, Cyrukh trembled and struggled, lashing out in his pain and fury. Great fissures and ruptures of fel energies poured from the volcano and the land surrounding it. Slowly, the soul of Cyrukh, the power the elements had invested within him, was consumed and destroyed by the ravenous and unstoppable power of the fel. From this point on, only rarely would shamans ever feel the call of the elements again, for their power had been broken.

Even with his contribution to ensuring the demise of Cyrukh, Grim'batuul could only view the destruction of such power with awe, and fear. He wondered if power such as that wielded by the warlock had any limit to its destructive capabilities, if it could bring low such an awesome being, and if an emission of fel this large would not doom the world completely, to the same desolation and rot he had seen take effect upon the land from the use of fel magic. However, there was little time for such contemplation.

Quickly, Blackhand and his subordinates rallied the Horde, with Grim'batuul and his fellow warlocks joining them in the rear. For many long nights would they lay siege to the highly fortified city of Karabor, defended by strong and sturdy Draenei vindicators, blessed by the powers of the light, and magisters who attacked them with fire and ice. The Draenei fought defensively, seeking to buy time and wear down The Horde through attrition, this was obvious to the most basic tactician.

However, there was a legend long held by the Shadowmoon Clan, that of a great power sealed beneath the earth, due to its dangers to orcish society. The Dark Star. Throwing these warnings aside, the warlocks of the Shadow Council brought the Dark Star from its place of rest. With their powers, they took control of it, and unleashed its power upon the Draenei of Karabor in totality. The energies of this dark and mysterious artifact would shatter the defenses of the Draenei, either destroying them, or bringing hopeless insanity. The unstable energies would warp and mutate the land further, decaying the life within, escalating the devastation of Shadowmoon Valley. Soon after, the Orcish Horde would charge the ramparts and take the temple city, and from this day forward, it would be known as The Black Temple.

It was soon after the use of The Dark Star that most warlocks left the battlefield, leaving it to the warriors to clean-up. There was little more they could contribute, and little necessity. Camped amongst them, side by side with Lozzox, the young, but perhaps now more aged warlock contemplated all that had transpired. He was horrified the combined power of he and his fellows, and of Gul'dan. His heart was almost struck still when he put his thoughts to the land, of its health, and of what would likely become of it now, and those who inhabited it. The great mountain from which Cyrukh had burst was now a volcano. A pillar of the earth, now spouting and producing the cancerous energy of the warlocks, and its harbinger, and all the power he brought with him, power of the land, had been broken and turned against itself. The same was occurring within his mind, as he had now come to know, with terrifying certainty, the precise and destructive capabilities of this magic, and the similarly destructive intent of so many of its practitioners. The breaking of the land would repeat itself, until it was dead and barren. Moreover, the orcs continued to degenerate in to bloodlust and savagery. Corpses of draenei and orcs alike were left scattered without burial or ritual cremation, their belongings looted instead. The orcs reveled ever more in slaughter and death, enjoying it beyond all other things it seemed.

Grim'batuul continued to contemplate the ramifications of their actions, not knowing what to do to fix them, until the siege had ended. With the city held, the orcs rested, pillaged, and hunted for refugees and hiding Draenei. This lasted for only a few days before the march began to a mountainous hill overlooking Shattrath, at the orders of Blackhand and Gul'dan, who seemed particularly eager compared to his usual self. His pondering scattered to the wind in favor of survival, Grim'batuul would continue to march with the other warlocks alongside Lozzox. He did not know if his master feared as he did, and did not wish to risk showing weakness in order to know. Lozzox seemed confident and collected during their time in duty, if perhaps somewhat annoyed at times, but Grim'batuul had managed to catch a glance of anxiety upon him near the campfire, but he could not be certain of the cause.

Upon their arrival to the mountain, a mysterious place which to his knowledge bore no name, the orcish clans would be organized upon the plateau of the mountain, smoke filling the skies from the torches and fires of the combined military of the clans. Great, sheer stone pillars encircled the moon in the horizon. Within several pits and bowls scattered at the center of the plateau, a strange, green, viscous, bubbling substance lay. Gathered together, Blackhand would give way to Gul'dan, who would greet the clans. For this meeting, Grim'batuul and Lozzox had remained with the Blackrock Clan, and they stood alongside their fellows. Smooth and charismatic, as much as someone like Gul'dan can be, he spoke of the greatness of the Horde, the orcish people, the powers of the warlock, and our success thus far. It was then that he would introduce the purpose of their meeting. He spoke of a great benefactor, named Kil'Jaeden, which he had learned off from another of Gul'dan's speeches at the Kosh'harg festival. The source of Gul'dan's knowledge of fel magics, and their support in their battle against the Draenei.

Gul'dan spoke with grandeur and pride as he told them of this great benefactor's newest gift. Using a chalice carved from the horn of a creature Grim'batuul could not fathom, Gul'dan filled it with the strange green liquid which covered the plateau. The "Cup of Unity" he called it, and offered power and glory to any who would drink of it. It was now that Grim'batuul recognized the liquid as something infused with fel. Thankfully, he successfully hid his shock, but could not resist looking to Lozzox, who was smirking slightly. By this point, Grim'batuul though having rudimentary knowledge of the Shadow Council from his master, had never been permitted by his master to join. Through implication and inference, he figured this was due to his idealism, and perhaps a desire to prevent his apprentice from surpassing him. His exclusion aside, he reasoned that the Council must have been responsible for this meeting.

Soon, orcs were coming up to drink, and demonstrating the effects of the liquid upon them. In moments, they grew stronger, larger, fiercer, and more eager. Eager for what, he could easily guess. Passion for battle flowed from every orc, from the way they gripped their weapons so hard their knuckles whitened, to their roars and growls of animalistic bloodlust, or their simple and direct cries for blood. Every orc was now a deeper green than ever before with glowing red eyes reminiscent of embers, besides those who did not drink, the Frostwolf Clan and Orgrim Doomhammer, lieutenant of Blackhand, in particular. No warlocks needed drink, their bodies already mutated by the energies they wielded. By now, Grim'batuul's eyes had begun to glow, and Lozzox's eyes were the same deep, ember red eyes of these new orcs.

Blackhand would then step forward, and with a single, inspiring call to battle, would command The Horde to march, or rather, charge, towards the city of Shattrath. Confused and disorganized for a few moments by the sudden declaration, it would not be long before Lozzox would organize himself and a few of the other less senior warlocks in to a group, something likely planned for, before leading them towards Shattrath behind the warriors of The Horde.

As they marched, a great quake struck the earth, unbalancing many of the orcs and bringing them to the ground. The sound of breaking earth and tremendous force billowing outward erupted from the mountain they had just left. Recovering, Grim'batuul and his fellow warlocks turned to look to the source of the sound. Jets of lava erupted forth from the mountain, engulfing the mountain peak and slowly beginning to ooze across the mountain side. Held and mesmerized by the sight for a few moments, the orcs soon began to cheer, their morale heightened by this show of power from the land itself, and not long afterward, Lozzox brought the stunned warlocks to order, and the march began again.

Soon they were within view of the city, perhaps only a little more than a mile. Curiously, they didn't see any of the siege weapons that were meant to be stationed near the city by now. Before they could advance further, a terrible, yet spectacular image materialized ahead of the Orcish Horde, standing between them and Shattrath. To Grim'batuul, it seemed to be a great, red Draenei, greater in size than even the Gronn of Draenor, with horns and fiercely glowing yellow eyes. Immediately, it began to speak.

"You have nothing to fear, and everything to celebrate, you who have sworn allegiance to me!" The being spoke with a deep and resonant voice, which echoed and within the land itself and the bones of those who heard it, rolling across the plains and hills. "I am Kil'Jaeden, the Beautiful One, the one who has been with you since the beginning. And I am with you now as you head to your most glorious battle yet. Once, the wicked Draenei plotted against you, hiding an entire city from your eyes." Grim'batuul had heard rumors of a hidden city, taken by a combination of Blackrock and Frostwolf forces, made invisible through magic, but revealed through crystals taken from the Draenei. "But you have destroyed that city, and others, and vanquished their temple. All that remains is this one final battle, and then the threat will be eliminated."

It was then that he spoke of a spell of illusion placed upon our forces, and with a spoken incantation, revealed our siege forces. Obscured from the Draenei, it is likely they would be completely unprepared for an assault of this magnitude and abruptness. Then, casting another spell, silent this time, and Grim'batuul felt a horrid sensation of fire passing through his skull, coming in waves throughout the entirety of his head. Immediately, visions and knowledge accompanying them surfaced within his mind, and settled deep within his memory. Knowledge of new magics, and in particular, the spell to summon a great demon which he now understood intimately. The infernal. He turned to look at his fellow warlocks, and they seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal, but once they had, they seemed greatly satisfied, Lozzox in particular, who could not hide the grin upon his face.