World of Warcraft: Vol'jin: Shadows of the Horde Read Free Page B

of the islands, subjugating all in their path, simply because he wished it done.
    He could do it. He could see a way. He’d had Thrall’s ear, and the orc had trusted him in military matters. He could spend the months ofrecuperation plotting out the campaigns and organizing strategies. Within a year or two of his return from Pandaria—if that was still where he was—the Darkspear banner would be anointed with blood and more feared than it already was.
    And what be that gaining me?
    I would be pleased .
    Vol’jin spun. Bwonsamdi stood above him, a titanic figure, ears forward and straining to gather the pulsed shouts from below. It would gain you peace, Vol’jin, for you be doing what your troll nature demands.
    Is that all we be meant for?
    The loa do not require you to be more. What purpose be there in your bein’ more?
    Vol’jin looked for an answer to that question. His search left him staring at a void. Its darkness reached and engulfed him, leaving him with no answer and certainly no peace.
    •  •  •
     
    Vol’jin finally awakened. His eyes opened, so he knew it was not a dream. Faint light came to them, filtered through gauze. He wished to see, but that would require removing the bandages. In turn, that would require him to lift a hand. He found this task impossible. He had so little connection with his body that he didn’t know if it was because his hand was tied down or had simply been struck off at the wrist.
    Finding himself alive gave him impetus to remember how he had been hurt. Until he’d been certain he would live, the effort had seemed a waste.
    Unbidden by anyone, and in gleeful defiance of what Garrosh’s wishes would have been, Vol’jin had chosen to travel to the new land of Pandaria to see what Garrosh had the Horde doing. Vol’jin had known of the pandaren because of Chen Stormstout and wished to see their home before the Horde and Alliance war laidwaste to it. He’d not arrived with any plan to stop Garrosh, but Vol’jin had once threatened to shoot an arrow through him, and he packed a bow just in case.
    Garrosh, though in his usual foul mood, offered Vol’jin a chance to contribute to the Horde’s effort. He agreed, less for the Horde’s benefit than to be a brake on Garrosh’s ambition. Along with one of Garrosh’s trusted orcs, Rak’gor Bloodrazor, and a number of other adventurers assembled for the mission to Pandaria’s heart, Vol’jin set off.
    The shadow hunter enjoyed the journey, comparing this land to those he had visited previously. He’d seen rounded mountains that were weathered and defeated, but in Pandaria they merely seemed gentled. Or jagged, angry mountains that here, though no less sharp, just appeared eager. Jungles and groves abounded with life yet never seemed to hide lethal menaces as they did, say, in Stranglethorn. Ruins existed, but only because they were abandoned, not broken and buried. While the rest of the world had been scourged by hatred and violence, Pandaria had not felt their lash.
    Yet.
    All too quickly for Vol’jin, the troop reached its objective. Rak’gor and two aides had taken to wing on wyverns to scout ahead, but Vol’jin saw no sign of them when the group reached the mouth of a cave. Large, vaguely humanoid lizard-beasts warded the entrance. The adventurers cut through them and prepared to plunge into the cave’s darkened depths.
    Black bats shrieked and exploded from the cave’s hidden recesses. Vol’jin only faintly caught their cries—he doubted the others heard anything other than the flapping of leathery wings. One of the loa, Hir’eek, wore a bat’s shape. Be this a warning from the gods that no good gonna come going farther?
    The loa gave him no answer, so the Darkspear led the way. A cold sense of corruption strengthened as they pressed forward. Vol’jin stopped and squatted, removing a glove. He scooped up a handfulof moist earth and raised it to his nose. The faintly sweet rot of vegetation mixed with the