Part 3: The Fate of Madeye25th November 2018
The time was once upon the orcs. After resting for a few days they had decided to venture once more into the axe and hoped that it would be the final time. They awoke and were surrounded by ancient ruins and after pushing themselves up off the stone floor they were stood face to face with a elderly female orc. “So what brings you to the Matron children?” To her eyes the Red Blade were young Bleeding Hollow children. “Oh, you want to complete the trial of sages do you? Hmmph! Well perhaps a child’s mind can bring with it some new insight.” I’m here investigating a disturbance, come a long now children, don’t get lost!” She said calmly. They followed the Matron in till they hit a wall of energy, “So what do we have here? Oh yes, the spiritual shield that stops us from moving forward. You’ll need to answer correctly these riddles and the spirits will allow you entry!”
The Matron continued, “The beginners test of riddles. This should be fun for you children. Before we start I need a speaker, only one of you now children. Raise your hands!” The orcs discussed amongst themselves and without much hesitation Nar’thak Strongarm was named speaker. “I will now shut out the rest of you for I am the listener and only listen to the speaker. Please, discuss amongst yourselves but when the time is right the speaker answers for you all.” The orcs did as they were told and the Matron gave them five riddles to solve and they replied with five correct answers, Steelskull being noticeably knowledgeable of such tasks. “Oh look, the spirits have blessed you and dropped the shield. Aren’t you all very clever indeed! Come along, lets move to the next phase!” The Matron said before calmly walking forward.
The Orcs crossed a old ruined stone bridge in till at the other side was a huge ogre sitting at a table, “I be Trok-Trok, drinker supreme. If you want to pass the next shield you’ll have to beat me in a drinking contest! First one on floor sleeping loses!” the ogre said pointing at the impassable wall. The Mag’har Sigrak stepped forward, he wished to take up Trok-Trok’s challenge and sat down at the opposite end of the table. They began to drink and Sigrak made a very good start, Sigrak even tricked Trok-Trok initially by pretending to drink when he didn’t. The orcs cheered Sigrak on and also hurled some insults towards Trok-Trok that dented some of his iron confidence, it appeared the Mag'har would win as Trok-Trok was getting very drunk very fast. But the ogre had a second wind and Sigrak started to struggle, it was then that Karnna Blackfeather attempted to poison Trok-Trok’s drink! In hindsight it could of worked, the problem was it didn’t! Trok-Trok noticed Blackfeather and flipped the table in anger, the orcish spirits inside the cursed axe even were woken and not satisfied as they prepared to attack. It was Draklar and Lom’rak’s reasoning and apologies that calmed them down and the orc spirits faded and quickly to defuse Trok-Trok’s rage Strongarm gave a chi-chop to the back of the Ogre’s head. Trok-Trok stood a few inches taller, his eyes wide open and after seemingly few seconds he fell backwards like a tree paralysed. The next shield had fallen as the Matron amusingly remarked, “Well he did say the first one asleep lost!”.
They walked through the ruins crossroad and came across a door with a wall, the door had a sign that said ‘Do Not Enter’. This baffled the orcs for awhile, some even trying to find a way around it before some spiritual wind blew them back. After much discussions about what to do Strongarm walked up to the door and knocked three times. The door and wall disappeared, the Matron was very pleased by this, “Manners children, well done. You’ve shown up some of the adults with this one. On to the next test!” she quipped as she led the orcs forwards. Hilariously they came to another wall and door, this time it was a massive double door with an orcish face on it. Under the orcish face was a sign that said, the magic word is die.
Nar’thak Strongarm tried to give the door some dice and the door abruptly started talking out of the orcish face, “Hey, I don’t want that!”. A talking door, this bizarre event caught the orcs off guard and the door had a pretty unique sense of humour. The speaker was asking it a series of questions and eventually it answered one of them and was tricked in to saying the magic word, die. The door gasps as it said the word it didn’t want to say and sprung open, then after a few seconds it faded away and the door never existed. “Ha, that door was no match for your young minds! Well done indeed!” the Matron said. She beckoned them forwards and after a short while they entered a humongous throne room, upon the throne there appeared to be a shadow a of troll sitting on it.
“I be a Xuja. Hah, ya come all dis way ta save ya little friend. Ya show commitment I give ya dat!” the Shade of Xuja said. The Matron was confused, “I don’t remember this in the trial before, perhaps I should help you children out?” “Orcs and a phantom wanna play da hero do ya? Very well, I ave sum tricks up ma own sleeve ya know!” bellowed the shade before a dozen phantom spirits charged out of nowhere to attack the orcs, noticeably one of the phantom spirits was a small gnome pirate that previously had a unforgettable run in with Razaron on Kul’tiras. “We’re not just a phantom and orcs, but pieces that have touched my grandson's life! For the last time, for honor, lets save Razaron!” The Matron seemed to grasp what was going on better and performed a Zeth’tar dancing ritual that boosted the Red Blades resolve. They battled for a long hard time but the fight was won when Karnna Blackfeather, Jubeka and Drakora’s managed to finish the shade of Xuja off, the shadow met a grizzly end. She was diced, set alight, punctured and finally absorbed with Blackfeather’s shadow magic. “Dis… is… not… over! I shall… return!” as Xuja was no more.
Suddenly the orcs started to feel drowsy and everything went black, a final vision was then seen. Razaron was cradling the Matron Razara after she had sacrificed herself to save him from a rylak. Razaron clutched at his grandmother and let out all of his emotions with a cry that would wake the ancestors. The image remained for a time in till slowly the orcs again awoke in Durotar, the cursed axe was being held by Lom’rak and it appeared to be lifeless. Razaron was standing over the orcs and proceeded to thank them for the efforts in freeing him. He explained to them that the axe was a family heirloom given to him by his father Gorgush and that he didn’t know initially it was cursed. After a time wielding the weapon it would slowly drain the wielders life essence in to the axe. Long ago before Orgrimmar was built it was once put in a frozen like state with the help of his friend Peacemoon, but it also trapped apart of himself inside the axe. That was in till the troll known as Xuja entered Razor Hill and attacked Razaron sensing the blood magic within and reactivating it. Razaron didn’t know the troll but thanks to the Red Blades efforts his life was completely freed from the cursed axe.
Lom’rak Steelskull took the axe to study, wishing to try and preserve Razaron’s ancestral axe as it was a family heirloom. Though others in the clan thought the axe should then and there be destroyed before it could cause anymore harm. Blackfeather spoke with Razaron and informed him that with her contacts she would try to track down this Xuja but for now the story of the Cursed Axe was over.