The talks with Ebonlocke didn't take too long. He was eager to leave Duskwood to me and my servants, taking his people to Westfall where they could farm and work without worry of a horrible and violent death.
I warned them about keeping vigilant due to possible Defias survivors and Gnoll war parties, but we were both aware of the difference in danger between the two areas.
The lord of Duskwood did warn me about a group of Ogres that had taken up residence in the area.
They werent as aggressive to the locals due to the constant distraction of the undead, but there had been a couple dozen disappearances that could have been them.
I would have to figure out what to do with them in the future.
I sent the people of the town, some five hundred men, women, and children, on the way back to Westfall. They were to be guarded by twenty of my Harvest Golems on the journey to their new home.
The watch sent out riders with word to every other settlement to either attempt to make their leave now, or wait for the Harvest Golems to arrive and see them escorted out.
From our position in Raven Hill I had the remaining Golems spread out with orders to gather lumber and place it the towns center, where it would eventually be gathered and distributed throughout westfall.
The Harvest Golems would travel in groups of ten in relative proximity to each other, exterminating any wandering undead and worgen.
When Darkshire was cleared of its residents I took two of the Golems with me and made my way down the relatively short distance from Darkshire to the entrance of Deadwind pass.
It was a barren and empty place, haunted by the spirits of the dead who had tried to investigate Tower Karazhan and a tribe of Ogres.
Duskwood was a gloomy place, but it had life and activity. Deadwind pass was different. Haunted in a manner I wasn't familiar with.
It was unsettling even to me. The only sound that met my ears was the light Whirring of gears in my Golems, and our footsteps. Above us flew the darkened shapes of what I assumed to be carrion birds.
We traveled around three miles down the beaten path before we came to the crossroads marked with a hangman's tree still bearing a pair of corpses, as well as a signpost reading 'Turn Back!' and 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.'
This was Deadman's crossing.
The east lead towards my destination, and the south to the ogres and the tower of Karazhan. Karazhan was the tower of the greatest human mage to have lived in a very long time.
He was once the last in a line of protectors of human kind known as the guardians of Tirisfal. They were mages enhanced with powers beyond the norm, created to combat the Burning legion.
The last gaurdian fell to Sargeras, leader of the legion in a battle within the tower, and the power within the human was so great his death cursed the land.
One day soon I would uncover the secrets held within that tower, when my strength was enough to match whatever horrors awaited me within.
It was a sobering thought. Challenging something like that. Even now the power within the tower was palpable. Even if I knew nothing of that place, even if I had no magic to call upon, I would know exactly where that place was.
Not to find it, not to locate the place, but to know exactly where I must never go. I feared that place, and that was exactly why I needed to conquer it.
Audacity had brought me this far in the world. It will always be who dares to grasp power, who rules this world.
With that in mind I traveled down the road, focusing on going eastward. My destination was dangerous. The whelps that littered the Swamp of Sorrows where guarded by a near ancient green dragon in the form of a High-elf.
They were lightly defended by the standards of dragons, in that no brood-mother awaited me nearby, and that they were not guarded within a deep cave or castle lair.
Thankfully, whelps were viewed with a sense of guarded hope by most dragons. They were protected but largely expected to die of sickness or predatory creatures.
Survival of the fittest. If they did not show apt ability to live on their own, they would not be able to survive in the future and where therefore better off dead now, before attachment grew.
Dragons lay large clutches because like all animals that do so, most do not survive. If a number of them where to disappear it would be chalked up to a predator.
In the Swamp of Sorrows there where many predators in all forms. Still, if that dragon saw me kidnapping his charges I imagine he would not take it sitting down.
I was powerful by most standards, but not at a level where I could just waltz up to a dragon and steal the clutch he had chosen to defend.
When we crossed the mountain threshold to the swamp the change was nearly immediate.
Murky algae covered waters greeted my eyes, waist high in most places, and the eyes of Crocolisks and other dangers surely followed me as soon as I approached the waters.
I commanded my golems to wait for me, and hide behind a large outcropping of rocks a decent ways off the road in the mountain pass.
Harvest golems chassis could handle the swamp, but unfortunately their outer covering was not made for the area.
I marched alone down the road, knowing failure could spell true death for me.