Forsaken Warrior 1-80 Part 6 - Walkthrough / No Commentary

[@MrPainkiller1988]

The Blood-Stained Path The road south led Blightmaul and his companions into the heart of Horde territory. Silverpine’s skeletal woods gave way to the rolling hills of Hillsbrad, but the Forsaken presence was no less oppressive. Everywhere, the mark of the Dark Lady’s will could be seen-black banners fluttering over hastily constructed encampments, alchemical contraptions spewing green vapors into the sky. The Tauren warrior, Goruk, eyed the scene with unease. “This place stinks of desperation,” he rumbled, his hand resting on the haft of his axe. The Orc shaman, Dhrazka, nodded grimly. “The Forsaken push deeper into contested lands. But it is not the warfront we seek.” She turned to Blightmaul, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve heard the rumors, yes? Of what lies beyond the Alterac foothills?” Blightmaul adjusted the shield strapped to his arm, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “The rumors don’t matter. Only what we find when we get there.” The Troll, Zillik, snorted, his raptor padding silently beside him. “Dis one always so serious? Relax, mon. We got plenty o’ time to die later.” Their path led them to the town of Tarren Mill, a bleak outpost on the edge of Forsaken expansion. The streets were lined with alchemical cauldrons, their noxious fumes drifting lazily over the town. Undead soldiers moved with purpose, their hollow eyes betraying no emotion as they prepared for battle. At the town’s center, an apothecary in dark robes greeted them, his skeletal grin unnerving even to Blightmaul. “Ah, fresh arrivals,” he crooned, his bony fingers steepled. “You must be the ones who quelled the disturbances in Silverpine.” Goruk’s expression darkened. “Disturbances? What we fought was an abomination.” The apothecary chuckled, the sound dry and rasping. “Semantics, my friend. Regardless, your skills are needed again. There is… a situation in the Arathi Highlands.” Dhrazka frowned. “Arathi? The Highlands are far from Horde control. What draws our attention there?” The apothecary’s grin widened, an unsettling sight. “An artifact, recently unearthed by our rivals. We believe it possesses the power to sway the tide of war. Naturally, we cannot allow it to remain in their hands.” The journey to Arathi was grueling. The lush fields of Hillsbrad gave way to rugged terrain, the hills dotted with the ruins of a bygone kingdom. Storm clouds gathered overhead, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain. The group traveled in uneasy silence, each member lost in their thoughts. As they neared their destination, Zillik broke the quiet. “So, what’s dis artifact, anyway? Some big shiny thing dat makes ya feel all warm inside?” Blightmaul’s voice was low, almost a growl. “Warmth is the last thing it will bring. If the Forsaken want it, it’s for a reason.” Dhrazka glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “You speak as one who has seen such things before.” Blightmaul didn’t reply. They arrived at the ruins of an ancient stronghold, its stone walls crumbled and overgrown. The artifact was said to be hidden within, guarded by Alliance forces and mercenaries. The first skirmish came swiftly. Human soldiers in gleaming armor emerged from the rubble, their battle cries piercing the stormy air. Goruk roared, his massive axe cleaving through their ranks with brutal efficiency. Dhrazka called upon the elements, summoning bolts of lightning that left scorch marks on the ground. Blightmaul fought methodically, his shield absorbing blow after blow as his sword cut through flesh and steel. The Troll’s arrows whistled through the air, each one finding its mark. The enemy was relentless, but the Horde adventurers pressed on, their determination outweighing their fatigue. As the last soldier fell, the ruins fell silent once more, save for the sound of their labored breathing. The artifact lay in the depths of a crumbling tower, its glow faint but unmistakable. It was a shard of black crystal, jagged and pulsing with dark energy. Blightmaul approached cautiously, his undead senses recoiling at the malevolence emanating from it. “Dat thing ain’t natural,” Zillik muttered, his hand resting uneasily on his bow. Dhrazka’s voice was calm but firm. “It’s a weapon, and one we cannot allow to fall into Alliance hands. But its power… it is not something to wield lightly.” Goruk nodded. “The apothecaries will want this for their plague machines. Are we sure that’s wise?” Blightmaul studied the crystal, his hollow eyes reflecting its dark glow. “Wisdom has little place in war,” he said. “Only results.” As he reached for the shard, a low growl echoed through the chamber. The group turned as a massive figure emerged from the shadows-a human knight clad in dark plate armor, his eyes glowing faintly with the same malevolence as the crystal. “You will not take it,” the knight intoned, his voice like thunder. “This place will be your grave.” Blightmaul raised his shield, his sword gleaming faintly in the dim light. “Then you’ll join us in death.” The battle that followed was ferocious. The knight’s strength was monstrous, his strikes shaking the very walls of the chamber. Goruk matched him blow for blow, his axe carving deep into the knight’s armor. Dhrazka summoned flames to engulf their foe, but the knight seemed impervious, his blade cutting through her spells. Zillik’s arrows rained down, each strike met with a grim determination from the knight. Blightmaul was the first to notice the connection between the knight and the shard. As the knight struck, the crystal pulsed, its glow intensifying. “It feeds him!” Blightmaul shouted. “Break the shard!” Goruk hesitated, his gaze flickering to the artifact. “Destroying it may destroy us all!” Blightmaul didn’t wait. He drove his sword into the crystal, its surface cracking with a deafening screech. The knight faltered, his movements slowing as the shard shattered into fragments. The knight collapsed, his armor falling away to reveal a withered husk. The chamber fell silent, the oppressive energy dissipating. As they emerged from the ruins, rain began to fall, washing the blood and ash from their armor. Dhrazka looked to Blightmaul, her expression somber. “You’ve made an enemy of something far worse than the Alliance this day.” Blightmaul met her gaze, unflinching. “I was already an enemy of the living. What’s one more?” They moved on, the path ahead shrouded in darkness.