Tenacity!
As my trial of Tenacity, I was directed to walk from the Dark Portal to the city of Shattrath, and meditate along the way. I started, of course, at the Portal itself, taking the portal from Exodar to the Blasted Lands. I walked through, having prepared myself for the walk.
Somehow, the Draenor side of the portal is larger than the Azeroth side, although the design is similar. While the Legion has largely been routed, there are still a few remaining, either left behind or, perhaps, sent to harry and test at the remaining defenders. Both the Alliance and Horde, therefore, have kept a token defense at the foot of the Portal.
When I stepped through, the Portal was under assault by demons. This is not unusual, from what I gather. I had a long road ahead of me....
They were relatively weak demons, and were easily vanquished.
The next, however, was a Pit Lord Commander-- far larger, and more difficult.
I was able to parry many of his attacks, and my armor also warded me well.
In the end, he fell. For a time, the Dark Portal was left in relative calm. And, the path cleared and my blade Tyrfing's thirst sated, for the time being, I was able to do what I had intended to do.
The fel-bound orcs called it the Path of Glory. It is not pleasant to walk upon, but it is important that we keep fresh in our minds-- and the minds of our neighbors-- what evil the Legion is capable of. We are all connected; perhaps, if we had warned the orcs of the Legion and befriended them as we later did the natives of Azeroth, they may not have been so easily swayed.
I stopped, for a time, and paid my respects to the fallen, whose bodies and bones became the Path that led the orcs into Azeroth, the fallen demons' blood soaking into the Path. Perhaps any of them whose spirits still lingered there gained some sense of satisfaction.
Much of my walk through Hellfire was uneventful. The land was once beautiful and fertile, but as it is now I barely recognize what it once was. I fought a few lesser demons, and took no real injuries that were not quickly mended through their life energy.
I spotted, in the distance, a Fel Reaver. I had thought them all destroyed, long ago. To see one now, when no one would expect it...
I had no choice but to try to bring it down. It is a tricky proposition; mechanical constructs cannot be diseased, nor do they have life force to draw upon, to mend my own wounds.
The scale of the machine is incredible. Its head alone is as tall as I am. However, it is slow, its attacks telegraphed; I was able to dodge its crashing fists and climb its body, severing cables and anything that looked as if it might be broken on the way. It is fortunate that such constructs are run on fel energy and not electricity....
And, in the end, it fell.
As I said, the head is as tall as I am. I considered taking it as trophy, but even for me it would be too heavy to carry.
I continued my trek across Hellfire....
The region is large, and much larger when one goes on foot, instead of on the back of horse or gryphon. gave me much time to think, to meditate. I saw no more demons-- although a part of me wished for more-- and the wildlife steered clear of me, likely smelling the demon blood or whatever strange fluids the Reaver leaked.
I decided to take the path west, rather than south. I could not go into Shattrath reeking of demonic blood, after all.
And, in time, I reached the border to the Zangarmarsh.
The Zangarmarsh is, to the Draenei, a refuge, a sanctuary. It, along with the plains of Nagrand, is one of my favorite places remaining on Draenor, and simply crossing the border seemed to calm my spirit from the thoughts of the Legion's cruelty and manipulations. I avoided the Cenarion camp, knowing that my appearance would likely draw questions, and instead turned south, heading for the shallows of the nearest lake.
Ever since the naga were driven out, the water levels have started to recover. I stopped and bathed at the edge of a lake, although I stayed in my armor-- elememtium does not rust, and it needed cleaned as much as I did. Once I was clean-- if wet, although it was raining; I would have been soaked through either way-- I continued south, through the marsh.
Even the small mushrooms are the size of a fel reaver's head. I considered taking some as an offering of food, as I was close to Shattrath by then, but I am not sure which are good eating and which are not.
It is, perhaps, more interesting to hear of my killing demons and destroying Fel Reavers than my thoughts as I walked through the marsh. I saw no one aside from a few Lost Ones in the distance, and a glimpse of a cat that I suspect was actually a druid, possibly a Cenarion patrol. It was... rather peaceful, in many ways; my hunger having been so recently sated left my mind clear to think on the meaning of this-- being sent on foot on a trip that would take a mortal days. Even for a death knight, who does not tire, it took the better part of a day.
The nature of Tenacity. To continue on, despite difficulty. To cling to the Light, although it sears and seems to reject you. That is one form of tenacity. And this-- my trial-- was another, to resist the temptation to summon my Deathcharger, to keep going, alone with my thoughts and doubts.
It was not long before I reached the border to the Terrokar forest. Shattrath is less than an hour's walk from this spot. I started to see a little more foot traffic, although not much-- a handful of Soprelings returning to the marsh, a few hippogryphs and windriders overhead.
Shattrath is a beautiful city, even from a distance. Adventurers and soldiers rarely venture there, these days-- some go to learn the faith of the Aldor, or whatever it is the Scryers teach-- I think Barnaby once mentioned his human friend learning enchanting from them?-- and others to see the Naaru. And there are still refugees, who have adopted the City of Light as their home.
The guards still view death knights as strange and suspicious. This one questioned me, as I entered the city. I was allowed in, after I spoke to him.
Because I took the north entrance, I was able to go straight to the center chamber, and bypassed the Lower City.
And, at last, I made it to the heart of Shattrath. I am... cut off from the Light, in my current state. I cannot hear the voices of the Naaru, and being close to them is... uncomfortable, though tolerable. But today, the sting of the Light felt almost welcome, similar to the soreness one has after a well-fought battle. I stayed for a time, and continued my meditations, on the nature of the Light, and my connection....
I am cut off from the Light, yes, but there is a theory I have had for some time, one that seems proven right, time and time again. Although my direct connection is severed, perhaps through my friends and allies... perhaps that is how the Light tries to reach us. Not just death knights, but the Broken, and others whose faith has been lost.
I do not think it gives up on us, no. It is up to us to have tenacity-- to keep going, and keep reaching for it.
-end-
(Bonus picture: This is what the UI looks like when it's turned on. A few of the other pictures also link to a full-size version.
