The Watcher

korkrunchcereal:

There had always been a dark fate to Silithus. For years
Skullcrusha had known this. It was a cursed wasteland of forgotten souls and
ancient terrors that no sane mortal would willingly tread. It was here nearly a
year ago he had found the body of Ruvok’s son in order to resurrect Ruvok
himself; the body of kin, to house the soul. Yet it was not from the sand and
rocks that death would come as it had before, but rather the sky.

The world was forever changed by a dark god’s final blow.
Skullcrusha stared at the monolithic sword of the fallen titan in silence, arms
crossed. To the heavens it reached, and for weeks now Skullcrusha had simply
been watching it. For what reason he was not certain, but he felt in his bones
a sense of destiny in the blade. The blow had ravaged the world, but it had
also revealed treasures unheard of previous. Azerite, he heard it whispered
across the winds. Bloodshed, it promised him.

But for weeks now he did not find this bloodshed. Part of
him was aware his master, the Lich King, had been keeping him here. Was it
prison? Perhaps, for he never saw a soul. The world moved on without him, and
the sand began to cover his prone form, and he did not move. Unstoppable; never
tiring and never dying…and he stood looking at a sword.

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