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The task was just as I had anticipated. In an area known as the “Pillar of Ash”, was a great concentration of Blackrock Orcs. I passed this concentration on my way to Morgans Vigil. I knew exactly what the Dwarven General was talking about, and was ready to take down some Orcs.
After he was done explaining, I assured him I would be victorious in my task. “So how many Orcs must I slay? Twenty, thirty..” I was cut off buy the Dwarf. “No, lad. In order to enter the heart of the mountain, ye must slay fifty filthy Orcs”. I was shocked. “Fifty?” I said sheepishly. “Fifty, Yep!” Was my reply. I rested up, then set out on my plight.
Why did “Blackrock Orcs” sound so familiar. Then a sharp chill ran up my spine as I remembered. This area was directly north of the town of Lakeshire. This wasn’t my first encounter with these Orcs. Long ago, I infiltrated a smaller Blackrock Orc encampment and discovered that they had been keeping a Gnome captive. Despite my success in defeating this group, the Gnome sadly died right in front of me. Memories came rushing back to me. Suddenly I was back in my old armor, fighting Gath’Ilzogg in his honor. Suddenly fifty Orcs didn’t seem like so much.
Long ago, I infiltrated a smaller Blackrock Orc encampment and discovered that they had been keeping a Gnome captive.
I wasted no time. With a dying comrade etched in my mind, I jumped from my mechanostrider and took on two Orcs at once. My memory of what happened next is fuzzy. I remember slaying Orc after Orc, feeling the warm blood of my foes drip down my axe as I sunk it directly into the face of another. All the rest is just a blur of green and red. Rage had blinded me. There is no vengeance greater than that of an angry Gnome.
I pulled myself from a heap of dead Orc bodies. Wiping my weapons clean, I realized there was more to do. I had more than fifty Blackrock signets in my bag, but I felt the need to do something more. I grabbed a mace from the hands of a dead Orc and dipped it in the churning lava nearby. With a roar I threw it at a nearby watchtower. As the structure was set ablaze, I mounted up and set back to Morgans Vigil.
Still soaking wet with the blood of my enemies, I presented sixty Blackrock Signets to a very pleased Dwarven General. With a nod he informed me that there was a small group gathering at the base of Blackrock Mountain. I would be able to join them if I hurried. I obliged.
