When I arrived back to Vul'Gul I was certain I had done all I could to prepare for my departure.
An army of over a thousand Ogres, and a couple hundred half-breed slaves met my approving gaze.
The Ogres had gathered their impressive might and awaited my orders, The murlocs were readying to start their own little crusade in my absence, and I had left my orders inside Moonbrook for my servants when they eventually arrived by ship.
I had given the Ogres two days to intermingle and associate with each other, and I presented my standard to the Ogres.
Four ogre bannermen stood at the head of my army, holding up the flag of Westfall, and more still intermingled with the rest of the line of warriors marching down the road.
It wouldn't do for people to mistake the ogres as attackers, traditionally ogre mercenaries came in smaller number, and were intermingled with their representative benefactor.
Especially considering the allegiances of the Ogres that reside within the Blasted lands
I was taking steps to establish their loyalties to all viewers.
I sent a golem with a message to Sentinel hill of the beginning of my march, and after assuming my human form we began our journey.
I hadn't taken the time to observe Duskwood from the inside, but while the land still had a number of undead and worgen wandering about their numbers had been declining sharply.
My Harvest Golems stalked the land, gathering lumber and purging all they came across. As we marched I saw many of the wandering the woods near the road, clearing out lines of trees as they did.
Their numbers had increased of late, my Goblins had been working hard to see them produced.
It was as shame I could not bring them along, but without the ability to maintain them myself, and their relative weakness to rocky terrain meant that was impossible until they were improved.
We passed abandoned villages and homes, listening to the distant sounds of buzzing saws and howling worgen.
Malius.
I stopped, holding my hand up to halt the march.
I felt a spike of pain in the back of my head, before I looked in the direction of a cluster of Woodland I had my Golems avoid.
It was a patch of dense forest inside of a crater, one filled with trees of a breed unaffiliated with the common oak of Duskwood.
A type of tree more readily associated with the Night elves.
The twilight grove, a portal to the Emerald dream. A primordial reflection of the world, one associated with my breed of dragon.
I shook my head, there was little that place had to offer but corruption and servitude for me.
I was keeping my golems from harvesting that portion of the land in hopes of avoiding the attention and ire of my cousins.
And my mother.
I motioned for the army to continue, stepping past the fork in the road leading to the nightmare.
I ignored the whispers that followed me, making a note to fly when traveling through this area in the future.
We made short time, and whatever undead or worgen that still haunted these woods avoided conflict.
We marched through Deadwind pass, picking up any Ogres who hadnt marched to Vul'Gul, before moving onward to the Swamp of Sorrows.
It was...strange traveling through the place.
Itharius was a kind protector, teaching us how to hunt and how to work together.
He had even protected us from the Trolls those few times they tried to take us away for their experiments with resurrecting Hakkar.
If my senses were correct they were making progress. I could feel a portion of what I assumed to be Hakkar feeding off of the place, and his power saturated the swamps.
He was among the more powerful Loa, one that many considered a threat on a worldly scale.
I planned on consuming him when I returned, even If I had to resurrect him myself. Especially if I had to do it myself.
Pulling portions of him from the realm of the dead would be far easier than the alternative of fighting him as an equal, and it would grant me considerable power over the trolls.
Hakkar was an evil deity, but the whole of the Gurubashi worshiped him, and they weren't alone.
It was five days after we departed Vul'Gul that broke past the swamp, and into the blasted lands.
I had us move at as quick a pace we could manage as soon as we crossed the threshold.
The red desert before us was far from safe for a traveling army. The Horde and the Alliance had outposts here, but it was the legion itself that truly controlled this land.
The Dreadmaul Ogres were the reason we moved quickly. They were a particularly numerous and powerful tribe, one controlled by several demons.
Considering the incredible corruption of this land, and the hairs rising along the back of my neck, strong ones too.
Lords of the burning legion were hidden in this land, creatures I was hesitant to fight.
On even ground I could fight one of them with a passable chance at victory, my unknown nature granting me an advantage over them.
However in their own territory, and among their greatest servants it would be impossible for me to kill any of them quickly enough before they found a way to kill me permanently.
I had been using my undying nature to my advantage for quite some time now, before I even found my true name, but eventually someone was going to figure out traditional means don't work.
I would prefer to keep that knowledge to myself for as long as possible.
We stuck to the road, keeping the march going until night fell. I kept watch as my servants set camp, avoiding rest or study to be ready for attack.
With the siege of Outland fully underway the Legion wasn't likely to appreciate reinforcements. If we were noticed before we drew close enough to the Dark Portal we would be attacked.
It would be a risk to my identity to be seen fighting with my Ogres.
With that in mind I decided to take flight, not as dragon, but as a carrion bird. A common creature to deserts such as these.
Most of my kind cared little for changing into beasts of the land. It was demeaning, and if discovered left us vulnerable.
I would never have taken the risk if I couldn't heal.
I watched all night for attackers. None came.
Somehow I doubted our passing had gone unnoticed.
