The Journal of Mal’koreth Cinderstorm
Records from the Pandaria Campaign
Entry 1 – Second Moon, Early Spring
Arrived at Domination Point today after two weeks aboard a transport that reeked of sweat, vomit, and desperation. The war in Pandaria has been grinding on for almost a year now, and it shows on every face in camp.
The soldiers here look exhausted. Not the good kind of tired that comes after a hard-fought victory, but the hollow-eyed weariness of troops who’ve been pushed past their limits without clear objectives. Half the conversations I overhear involve complaints about supply shortages, conflicting orders from the capital, or rumors about purges back home.
My assignment briefing was handled by a Kor’kron officer who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Kid looked at my service record and sneered. “Another old-timer from the northern wastes. Hope you’re ready for real combat, grandfather.”
Real combat. As if the Silverpine campaign was a training exercise. And I’m only 35!
The tactical situation is complex. Alliance forces established their own foothold when this continent was discovered, and we’ve been fighting over strategic positions ever since. Some local Pandaren have chosen sides, but most seem more interested in keeping both factions from tearing their homeland apart. Can’t blame them for that. Meanwhile, our supply lines stretch back across an ocean to a capital that’s apparently more interested in loyalty tests than logistical support.
First patrol tomorrow. Time to see what this “real combat” looks like.
Entry 2 – Second Moon, Mid-Spring
Three weeks of patrols, and I’m starting to understand why morale is so poor. The Alliance has dug in deep across the continent – they’re fighting just as hard as we are for control of strategic resources and territory.
But it’s not the enemy that’s breaking our troops. The land itself seems to react to the violence. Not the way elements normally respond to disturbance, but something deeper. More hostile. Places where major battles were fought now radiate an aura of pure malice that makes even hardened veterans nervous.
Asked my patrol leader, a scarred orc veteran named Gorth, about it. “Sha corruption,” he spat. “Happens when too much negative emotion builds up in one place. Fear, anger, hatred – it takes on a life of its own. Pandaren try to warn both sides about it, but nobody listens.”
Sha. Another cosmic force I don’t understand, can’t predict, and definitely can’t control. Just what I needed after two years of wrestling with Val’kyr mysteries.
The worst part is watching what it does to our own troops. Good soldiers turning paranoid, picking fights with their own squad mates. Others becoming recklessly aggressive, charging into Alliance positions because they can’t think past their rage. Some just… break. Sit staring at nothing while their minds collapse inward.
And through it all, orders keep coming from Garrosh demanding more aggressive action, faster results, total victory regardless of cost. Sometimes I wonder, is it better if Garrosh doesn’t know the impact this place has on his troops, or just doesn’t care?
Entry 3 – Second Moon, Late Spring
Met with Vash’ta today. He’s established quite an operation here – information brokerage, supply smuggling, even some legitimate trading with the local Pandaren. Impressive to see what he’s capable of outside a frozen wasteland.
“Mal’koreth, mon! Good to see you made it in one piece. How you be finding paradise?”
I told him about the sha corruption, the troop morale problems, the tactical situation. He nodded grimly.
“It be getting worse every month. Warchief keep pushing for results, but he not be understanding what kind of situation we facing here. Alliance got their own bases, their own supply lines, their own Pandaren allies. Meanwhile, all dis fighting be tearing da continent apart, making both sides weaker.”
He’s been tracking the political situation back home as well. The purges are real – anyone who questions Garrosh’s methods gets labeled a traitor. Vol’jin is under house arrest. Several tauren leaders have simply disappeared. The unity that made the Horde strong is being systematically dismantled.
“Word is he be planning something big,” Vash’ta said quietly. “Some kind of weapon or ritual dat will end da war in one stroke. My contacts in Orgrimmar be very nervous about whatever it is.”
Great. Maybe it will get these men home sooner. I’m sure there won’t be any consequences to whatever he has planned that we’ll all regret.
Entry 4 – Third Moon, Early Summer
First major engagement today. Alliance forces hit our supply depot just outside Honeydew Village- a well-coordinated assault that caught us completely off-guard.
The fighting was brutal, chaotic, exactly the kind of situation where my abilities should have made the difference. But every time I tried to call on the elements, the sha corruption interfered. Earth spirits that should have answered readily instead whispered of violence and hatred. Water became poison. Even the air itself seemed tainted with malice.
We held the depot, barely, but the cost was higher than it should have been. Lost twelve good soldiers because I couldn’t provide the elemental support they were counting on. Meanwhile, Alliance forces withdrew in good order – they’re learning to use the sha corruption too, letting it weaken us before striking.
Afterward, while helping with the wounded, I overheard two Kor’kron discussing the battle. “Should have expected problems from the old shaman,” one said. “These veterans from the outer campaigns don’t have what it takes for real warfare.”
I wanted to grab him by the throat and explain exactly what “real warfare” looked like when I was staging avalanches to murder entire caravans. But that would just prove their point about questionable loyalty.
Instead, I kept my mouth shut and focused on treating the wounded. Some battles aren’t worth fighting.
Entry 5 – Third Moon, Mid-Summer
Disturbing intelligence briefing today. Apparently Garrosh has found some kind of ancient mogu artifact – the Heart of Y’Shaarj, whatever that means. The briefing officer was vague about details, but the enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable.
“Finally, a weapon that can cleanse this continent of Alliance presence once and for all. No more prolonged campaign, no more resource drain. The Warchief’s vision will be realized.”
Y’Shaarj. I’ve heard that name before. It was in one of the few Icecrown texts I could read. It was about Old God influences. One of the ancient entities that corrupted entire civilizations before being destroyed by the Titans themselves.
If Garrosh is playing with Old God artifacts, then everything Vash’ta suspected is true. The Orc currently leading the Horde is willing to mess with forces that have time and again proven to be beyond mortal ken.
The elements here whisper of something vast and malevolent stirring. Not just sha corruption, but something deeper. Older. Hungrier.
I hate to say this, but I’m starting to think our biggest enemy in this war isn’t the Alliance.
Entry 6 – Third Moon, Late Summer
Orders came down today for all “non-essential” personnel to evacuate forward positions and consolidate at main bases. Translation: Garrosh is about to do something that will make large areas of Pandaria uninhabitable, and he doesn’t want witnesses.
The evacuation is chaos. Soldiers who’ve been fighting the Alliance here for a year, bleeding for every inch of ground, now forced to abandon positions without explanation. Even some of the Kor’kron officers seem confused about the sudden change in strategy. Morale, already poor, has collapsed entirely.
Vash’ta found me during the retreat. His usual grin was nowhere to be seen.
“Time to be choosing sides, brother. Word from my contacts is dat what’s coming next… it not just be about beating da Alliance anymore. It be something else entirely. And not everyone in da Horde be happy about it.”
He gestured to a figure standing in the shadows nearby – a Forsaken woman in warlock robes, her face hidden beneath a deep hood. “Dis be Morwyn Darkwhisper. She got a message for you, mon. From someone you don’t want be Ignoring.”
The Forsaken stepped forward, her glowing eyes studying me carefully. When she spoke, her voice carried the unmistakable accent of Lordaeron nobility, though touched by the hollow tones of undeath.
“Mal’koreth Cinderstorm. The Dark Lady sends her regards, and a request. You are to return to Kalimdor immediately and meet her at Sen’jin Village. Vol’jin will be there as well. The matter is… urgent.”
She handed me a sealed letter bearing Sylvanas’s personal mark. “This contains your official transfer orders and passage arrangements. The ship leaves tomorrow at dawn.”
As she turned to go, she paused. “The Dark Lady wanted me to tell you specifically: ‘The time for choosing approaches faster than anticipated. I have need of someone who understands the true cost of power.’”
After she vanished into the crowd of evacuating soldiers, Vash’ta shook his head. “When da Banshee Queen and da Shadow Hunter start working together, you know things be getting serious. Whatever dey planning, it bigger than dis war in Pandaria.”
The question is what to do about it. I swore loyalty to the Horde, but what happens when the Horde’s leader betrays everything the Horde stands for?
Time to find out where my real loyalties lie.
[The War continues…]
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