Mal’koreth’s Journal – Torn Page

Found loose between entries, appears deliberately removed

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[Date unclear – torn section]

Lieutenant Korven sent me to scout a place the recruits are calling “the Whispering Gorge” alone today. “Lost patrol needs investigating,” he said with that smug grin of his. “Perfect job for our veteran specialist.”

Right. Perfect job for someone he hopes won’t come back.

Two weeks of constant sneers and dismissals have worn me down more than I want to admit. “Old-timer,” “washed-up,” “past his prime” – every day brings fresh reminders that I’m not welcome among Garrosh’s chosen. Maybe Korven is right. Maybe I am just taking up space.

Found the patrol, or what was left of them. Alliance ambush, clean and professional. But while examining the scene, the earth spirits began whispering about something else entirely. Something hidden nearby, sealed away and forgotten.

Took three hours of careful work to find the entrance – a cave mouth concealed by ancient wards and natural camouflage. The elements recognized something in the stonework and helped me break the seals. Inside, untouched by time or weather, was a chamber that was out of place with any Pandaren civilization I’d seen.

The altar was carved from single piece of black stone, covered in symbols that hurt to look at directly. But it was the notes scattered around the chamber that truly caught my attention. Detailed instructions, written in multiple languages, describing a ritual of life transference. How to sacrifice a sentient being and claim their remaining years for yourself.

Fascinating. Horrifying for some I wager, but fascinating.

I was studying the texts when I heard movement outside. Alliance scout, young human judging by the sound of his breathing. Probably tracking the same missing patrol I’d found earlier.

I could have let him pass. Should have, maybe. But looking at those ritual instructions, feeling the weight of every dismissive comment from the last two weeks, I found myself wondering…

The capture was simple enough. Earth bind, quick strike to render him unconscious, drag him into the chamber before he could call for help. When he woke, bound to the altar, the fear in his eyes was almost intoxicating.

He looked up and pleaded with me. I really should learn common one of these days.

The ritual was more complex than I expected – precise incisions, specific words in a tongue that seemed to bypass the mind and speak directly to darker forces. But when the life finally left his eyes, I felt something… New. Something filling every crevice of my body. Energy. Vitality. Every inch of my body felt better. Stronger.

Younger.

I look about the same, maybe a little less grizzled. But I FEEL twenty years stronger.

I incinerated the body in the chamber and sealed the entrance again. Let the Alliance wonder what happened to their scout. As for the ritual site itself… I’ve taken the notes and will destroy them… Once I’ve committed them to memory. The location doesn’t seem important, but I’ve also marked that on my map.

Returned to camp three hours before dawn. Korven was waiting, clearly disappointed to see me alive. “Find anything useful, grandfather?”

“Just Alliance tracks heading north,” I replied. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

He looked confused for a moment – probably wondering why I seemed so much more energetic than when I’d left. But youth sees what it expects to see, and he expected a broken-down old soldier.

If only he knew what this broken-down old soldier was truly capable of.

They say that some lines, once crossed, can never be uncrossed. But I crossed that line many, many years ago.

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[Page ends here – torn roughly from binding]