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Once again, Azeroth was plagued by war, and Tyrathan found himself in the midst of it. By request of Halford and Genn, Anduin had sent out more soldiers to strengthen the footholds on Zandalar. Tyrathan had been one of the few chosen from the Unseen Path, perhaps because of his expertise in Zandali. Yet the tasks were the same for everyone, and simple: Gather resources and guard the camps.
Tyrathan gazed out over the once flourishing Nazmir, now everything laid in ruins. Since the Cataclysm, the land had begun to sink down into the South Seas; The saltwater was corrupting the lush vegetation. Of course, Tyrathan knew that that was not the only reason for the swamp’s sorry state. In the shadows lurked the wretched Blood Trolls, worshipping their loa of blood, G’huun. Torga, the turtle loa, had already fallen to their hunger. Consuming his flesh and raising their undead from his blood. Tyrathan shook his head unconsciously in disgust.
“Hunter.” A well-known veteran approached Tyrathan, a rifle casually thrown over his shoulder.
“Corporal Keeshan.” Tyrathan straightened his back and greeted the man.
Keeshan yawned and leaned back against the wall of the ruin. “I’m assembling a party. Well, I say that but, it’s just going to be us since we lack in good hunters. Get your gear and let’s head west. I want something else to eat tonight than fish and frogs.”
“Yes, sir.” Tyrathan nodded and went to fetch his bag with supplies: a bottle of freshwater, rope, and a dagger. His bow and quill were already strapped tightly to his back.
They moved out, following the road west. The place was crawling with blood trolls, and soon it became apparent that they would have a better chance of survival knee-deep in mud rather than on the road.
***
“This place is cursed,” Keeshan muttered, completely exhausted from the long trek. They had been walking for a good hour in the mud and only now stopped at the sight of yet another pack of saurolisks. “Let's kill one and head back to camp. Usually, you'd stew the meat together with a lot of fish and potatoes, but perhaps it’s still good grilled…”
“Didn't know you could cook,” Tyrathan whispered while they moved closer to the lizards.
Keeshan aimed. “Don't say that yet,” he grunted, and took the shot.
“Nice shot,” Tyrathan praised him, genuinely amazed. A good shot it was indeed, for the lizard dropped dead on the spot. The remaining saurolisks scurried off, frightened by the loud noise. Keeshan patted Tyrathan on the shoulder before making his way to the carcass.
“Now it’s just-” Suddenly a loud roar echoed through the forest, interrupting Keeshan.
The sound was horrifying, like a log being crushed to splinters underneath a full-grown brutosaur. Both men stared in horror as a creature, massive as a riverbeast, charged right towards Keeshan. It must have heard the shot. It was like nothing Tyrathan had ever gazed upon before. Its arms and legs were covered by thick bark and it had skin as green as swamp water. It grabbed ahold of Keeshan and lifted him up without trouble. Keeshan groaned in pain as the monster crushed the air out of his lungs and his rifle fell to the mud with a soft thump as he lost consciousness.
Tyrathan quickly shot off an arrow towards the monstrosity, hitting it in its lower back. The beast had clearly not expected a hidden Tyrathan in the bushes and roared furiously while swinging its massive arms blindly around. He took advantage of its rage and aimed for its skull-like face, hoping to daze it enough for it to drop Keeshan. His arrow hit its mark, as it always did, and the beast staggered back in pain. It did, however, not drop Keeshan. Instead, it fled off with him towards the road. Tyrathan cursed to himself and after grabbing Keeshan’s rifle, headed after it.
The beast had fled into the foggy swampland on the other side of the road. It reeked of stagnant water. For a second Tyrathan hesitated, should he go back and get reinforcement? The thought, however, didn't last long because after all, who would he get? ‘Silvermoon’ Harry? He shook his head and headed into the fog. Who knew if Keeshan would even last long enough for them to make it back.
Entering the fog was like entering a completely different world. The air was considerably more chilly, much to Tyrathan's surprise. And an eerie silence laid all around, giving off a false sense of peace. He moved stealthily through the muddy waters. Large hoof prints could be seen all around. It was those of the beast. Suddenly, something moved in the fog. Tyrathan quickly hid behind a small hill, his clothes now completely soaked. Whatever it was didn't make a sound and was much smaller than the beast. Slowly it drifted into view. It was a spirit- The spirit of a blood troll. Tyrathan looked around with a sense of mild dread. To his surprise, he could now see even more spirits. They did not take any notice of him. Their minds were set on something else, something not that far away. He watched their slow stride. They appeared to be moving in the same direction as the tracks. Cautiously, he followed the trail next to the spirits. The further he got, the more frequent he saw their translucent bodies.
He arrived at a broken stone bridge. The contours of it had barely been visible through the fog before and at a first glance, no one would ever assume that it would ever be used again. Yet as Tyrathan stood there, he saw all the spirits of the deceased travel across it and thought differently. The bridge appeared to lead into a ruined temple. By the looks of it, it had been glorious. Too bad the cataclysm had doomed it, like everything else in this cursed swamp. He took a deep breath and headed in. No matter how glorious it looked, it still reeked of death.
Tyrathan was huddled down low towards the ground, the ghosts passing over him unaware. "The beast must be around here somewhere," he sighed as he tried to find any traces upon the old worn temple stones. "Perhaps-" Suddenly, a soft laugh sounded from behind him. Tyrathan froze and turned around quicker than the wind, his mind and body prepared to fight to the death, only to lock eyes with someone eerily familiar.
“Look who we be havin’ here. Da human hunter, Tyrathan Khort.”
Tyrathan stod dumbfound, he couldn't find any words like as if the wind had been knocked right out of his lungs. It wasn't until another troll spirit moved past them that he regained his senses. “Bwonsamdi,” he exclaimed, surprised. He knew this place was mainly inhabited by trolls and surely there would be loa here… but never had the thought of Bwonsamdi crossed his mind. It was the second time they met. Back in Pandaria Tyrathan had had his life saved by Vol’jin when Bwonsamdi had come for a “visit”. He tried not to dwell on the past too much and forced himself to focus on Keeshan. So this was Bwonsamdi's temple? He might know a way around the large beast and how to save Keeshan. If he was willing to help…
“What ya be doin’ in my temple, hm? My Necropolis. Come lookin’ for Vol’jin?”
Tyrathan found himself getting caught again at the mentioning of Vol’jin. “He's here?” he couldn't help but to ask, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Bwonsamdi grinned and folded his arms. “Now, now, don't ya got another hunter to save?” A chilly laugh escaped his lips.
Tyrathan gritted his teeth over the mean tease but then looked in the directions of the beast's trail. "The living comes first. Bwonsamdi is right," Tyrathan thought as he headed after it. Bwonsamdi followed behind like a gentle wind.
“You must be happy now, in the time of war,” Tyrathan whispered while glancing over at Bwonsamdi.
“My powers be increasing’” Bwonsamdi nodded pleased. “Powerful souls; not even de kings and loa be survivin’ dis war. However...” Tyrathan sensed the displeasure in his voice as he continued. “Dis Sylvanas, she be keepin’ de dead for herself.”
Up ahead Tyrathan could see the beast and stopped dead. Crouching, he moved ever so slightly closer. It appeared to have let Keeshan down, who now laid knocked out in the mud. If he could just quietly grab him, he could carry him to safety. Tyrathan inched closer, Bwonsamdi patiently floated beside him. Luckily, the beast got distracted by a sound further away and Tyrathan took the chance to leap forward. He grabbed Keeshan and pulled him away with great effort. Fighting the mud, they finally managed to hide behind a pillar of the temple. The beast appeared to have walked away in search of the sound and Tyrathan could finally relax, if only for a few seconds. He proceeded to drag Keeshan further into the temple. It was too much of a risk to leave yet with the beast still out there. He wouldn't allow any more people to die in his presence, there had been too many already. Keeshan sure was heavy too. With any luck, he’d wake up soon.
“Vol’jin’s soul be not here.” Suddenly Bwonsamdi broke the tense silence. Tyrathan had almost forgotten about him, so focused on getting away safe, but now his gaze flicked up to the loa. For a moment, those words gave an odd feeling of hope to him. Though he knew that it could impossibly mean anything better.
“Where is it then?”
Bwonsamdi grimaced, breaking his carefree atmosphere. “It was lost in de Shadowlands, hidden from me. Now it… he be in Zuldazar with Talanji. With da Horde.”
The realization and subsequent sadness, showed clearly in Tyrathan’s eyes. The horde, of course. Tyrathan’s shoulders slumped. It was as usual. They were bound to their factions. Even if Vol’jin was dead and a spirit, that one fact wouldn't change. Even death doesn't let you break the rules... “But who was hiding him from you?”
Bwonsamdi simply shook his head and shrugged. “Powerful… I got a bad feelin’ his death was no mere accident... ”
Suddenly Keeshan groaned and rolled over towards Tyrathan. Opening his eyes to a squint. “Damn tree.” he cursed and slowly sat up with a hand covering his chest. “I heard you speak… What happened? Where are we?”
Tyrathan looked over at Keeshan, then back again but Bwonsamdi was gone without a trace. “We’re in the Necropolis. The beast ran away with you after you passed out. I managed to drag you to safety while it was distracted,” he quickly said and then handed Keeshan his rifle. “Can you walk?”
“A few broken ribs won't stop my legs…” Keeshan stood up with the help of his rifle, grimacing from the pain.
Slowly and cautiously they made their way out of the temple and onto the road back to camp. Luckily for the moment, the blood trolls seemed to be up to something else. But thinking ahead, their absence could mean nothing good.
Bwonsamdi’s last words echoed in Tyrathans head. Had Vol’jin’s death been planned? If so… Tyrathan sucked in the damp swamp air in a desperate breath and clenched his fist. That day when the news about Vol’jin’s death and Sylvana as the new warchief had reached him. He had had nothing on his mind but revenge. So was his and Vol’jin’s promise of course: Kill whoever kills the other. Tyrathan had put the blame on all of the Legion, seeing as Vol’jin himself had already struck down the felguard who killed him. He had joined the unseen path on the broken shore to slay as many demons as possible, but it was not enough. Even when Illidan banished Sargeras, it did not feel right. If Bwonsamdi’s words were true, that would give him a whole new target. He did not know what the loa were planning for Vol’jin. Or if it even was a loa behind it. But if Vol’jin were to mark the one responsible for his death as his enemy, Tyrathan would lend his aid.
A heavy sigh escaped Keeshan’s lips, “Guess we'll be eating frogs tonight too…” he muttered, distracting Tyrathan from his thoughts. During it all, they had forgotten about the saurlisk. It had probably already been eaten by the other animals.
“I'll go shoot one closer by, tomorrow.”
“Mm.”