Although the Highborne possessed sophisticated magic and could disguise themselves to deceive the Troll gods, their innate customs, unique civilization, and etiquette made them easily detectable by the Zandalari Trolls.
Queen Azshara thought of someone, Robbie Capor, a human whose manners and speech were completely different from those of the Night Elves.
Robbie did not refuse the offer to be sent as an envoy to the Zandalari Empire.
First of all, although the Zandalari Empire has hundreds of Loa, none of them are particularly powerful, and we can handle them completely.
Queen Azshara promised that Robbie would be allowed to use the magic provided by the Well of Eternity, just like the Night Elves.
Furthermore, several Runes were specially crafted, allowing even those with limited knowledge of Arcane Magic to unleash powerful spells.
The Well of Eternity provides endless magical power, and combined with Runes for offense, protection, and escape, Robbie's safety is further enhanced.
The objective of this mission is to secretly contact Bwonsamdi, the Grim Reaper, under the guise of an envoy, and try to extract his secrets.
Bwonsamdi, the god of death, sat atop the desolate pyramid, sighing repeatedly. His small eyes gazed upon his crumbling divine kingdom, and his mood grew increasingly gloomy.
Paying taxes and dying are the inescapable fates of Trolls.
Despite being the god of death, he receives very few souls. The Loa are all lovers of souls; to them, souls are Wealth and a means to become stronger.
The Loa and the Troll race have a shepherd-sheep relationship, just as a shepherd helps his flock find lush pastures and helps them escape danger and defend against enemies when they are attacked by wild beasts.
In return, the sheep must Consecration their hides and flesh to the shepherd, and their souls are the reward given to the Loa.
Bwonsamdi deeply misses the ancient times when the Old Gods Xal'atath ruled the Troll race. Back then, the Trolls had no self-awareness, lived in a daze, and acted entirely according to the will of the gods. Simply put, they were a group of walking corpses, veritable sheep.
But what does it matter? They offer a soul-stirring deliciousness.
At that time, Bwonsamdi was Xal'atath's right-hand man, a loyal sheepdog. He helped his master process delicious souls, held the power of life and death over the Troll race, and was extremely powerful, ranking among the top three of all the Loa.
Unfortunately, this period of prosperity was short-lived. A war broke out among the Old Gods, and after his master Xal'atath was defeated, he was banished. Bwonsamdi suffered severe damage in that great war, and his status among the Loa plummeted.
That War of the Old Gods sacrificed countless Loa, and those who remained were almost all deserters and Imp. When the war ended, they emerged from their hiding places, loudly mocking Bwonsamdi's foolishness and uniting to ostracize him.
This is the price of loyalty; when the Titans came, Bwonsamdi hid himself and even abandoned his divine kingdom.
This time, he successfully saved his life, while many of the gods who mocked him perished unexpectedly, which taught Bwonsamdi a great deal.
The Loa rose and fell, but Bwonsamdi survived, having long since learned the wisdom of the gods in preserving their lives.
Unfortunately, he was merely a god of death, offering little help to the Trolls. Compared to the gods of harvest, who could bring rain or heal, Bwonsamdi's abilities were utterly useless.
His strength lies in the brutal warfare, in the Battlefields where countless souls wander, where he can unleash his full power.
A gaunt Troll priest knelt beneath the pyramid; without Bwonsamdi's permission, he could not see the form of the Grim Reaper.
The Troll priest prayed respectfully:
"Your Excellency Death, the envoys of the Mount Hyjal Resistance have entered the Zandalari Empire. Emperor Archaeus are hosting a banquet in the Royal Palace to welcome them."
Bwonsamdi listened silently, indifferent to the negotiations. He longed for war; after all, who could rival the Grim Reaper in the power to reap souls?
Strange, what is Elune, doing? Bwonsamdi pondered.
His years of accumulated experience, coupled with his deep knowledge of Elune's inner workings, led him to realize that there was a conspiracy at play.
This is very disadvantageous for the Trolls. Should we remind Emperor Archaeus?
"A stupid, arrogant Troll, he won't listen to me." Bwonsamdi grinned darkly. "War, I need a war, the more people who die, the better."
Malfurion has fully adapted to his enormous antlers, which have become an important part of his identity.
The Troll Royal Palace was right in front of him. Looking at the tall and magnificent palace, Malfurion felt very uneasy. He was not afraid of the Trolls, but he was afraid of Tyrande. He was afraid that if he messed things up, Tyrande would definitely not let him off the hook.
"My dear Rhonin," Malfurion pleaded humbly, "I've heard that Trolls have very elaborate rituals, and even the slightest mistake can displease them. They value Troll highly. Please, I beg you, help me."
Rhonin looked at Malfurion. Dalaran had experts who specialized in studying the Zandalari Trolls and had deciphered the intricate court etiquette from ten thousand years ago.
"Malfurion, etiquette is of utmost importance to the Trolls. Outsiders who wish to meet their Emperor must follow a strict procedure. The first step is to walk barefoot on burning coals to demonstrate your respect for the Emperor."
"Red-hot charcoal?"
Malfurion thought for a moment. If he used nature magic, it wouldn't be difficult. His expression softened slightly.
Rhonin smiled mysteriously, "After you walk across the charcoal, you need to offer up your eyes. As an outsider, it is impolite to look directly at the Emperor of the Trolls. Then, molten lead will be poured into your ears, because you are not qualified to hear the voice of the Supreme Emperor."
Malfurion turned deathly pale. "No, no, the price we're paying is too high."
"This is just the beginning," Rhonin continued. "After you lose your sight and hearing, someone will lead you before you, and you can state what you have to say. Then you will need to cut out your tongue, because your voice Corruption the Emperor's ears, which is a sin."
"After that, you need to cut out your own heart and flesh to offer to the Emperor and his priests, to demonstrate your Consecration and love for the Emperor. Once you are devoured by the Trolls, you will have successfully gained Troll friendship."
"No, no, this is terrible!" Malfurion exclaimed, terrified. "Isn't there any other way?"
Rhonin shook his head regretfully. "Trolls are barbaric. The Zandalari Empire, relying on its strength, treats other races as food. Would you demand equality with food? Of course, this is all because of the Night Elf race' tolerance towards them."
Malfurion hesitated for a moment, then said, "In that case, why don't we observe the situation first?"
Rhonin couldn't think of any better solutions, so this was the only option he could have.
The two used magic to become invisible, Trolls, lacking sufficient understanding of magic, were unable to detect them.
They cautiously approached the heavily guarded Royal Palace. Rhonin used magic to observe the Royal Palace's furnishings, and Malfurion followed suit. Just as Rhonin had described, the Troll palace had already prepared various instruments of torture.
Just then, a servant in the Royal Palace shouted, "The messenger of the Temple of the Moon, Leonardo Brutalaxe, has come to pay homage to the great God-King!"
"Are there any other envoys?" Rhonin asked, puzzled.
Malfurion was also somewhat bewildered. "That's impossible, Tyrande only sent me as an envoy?"
Not long after, an Orcs carrying a giant axe appeared at the Royal Palace gate.
The Orcs grinned, revealing his gaping maw, and snarled in the direction where Rhonin and Malfurion were hiding.