In the decades since Zul joined the Zanchul Council, he had never again taken the initiative to contact the loa.
Yet even after all those years, he still remembered the art of communing with the loa. An ancestral craft was not something to forget.
The gray markings Zul had drawn lit up with a deep blue, frosty shadowglow.
Clearly, the loa had not forgotten their former follower either.
Light and shadow shifted within the dim cave. Wisps of cold, eerie light wound around Zul's body, guiding his soul to the Necropolis.
Bwonsamdi found himself facing a rare visitor. His flippant, comical tone vanished at once, replaced by one of utter disdain.
"Well, well, the little boy who turned his back on the loa. What's this? Had a change of heart?" Bwonsamdi leaned close to Zul, sniffing him with a nose that was nothing but two holes in bone.
The same revolting stench of rotten blood lingered. Bwonsamdi hastily backed away.
Zul had long since severed his connection to the loa, and he had not come to borrow their power.
"Talanji has been captured by the Kul Tiras Navy," Zul said gravely.
Talanji was the death god Bwonsamdi's sole representative. Unlike the other loa, Bwonsamdi did not readily bestow his power on just any troll. Not even Rastakhan.
But he trusted Talanji deeply and had helped her take control of Kul Tiras's Combined Fleet.
Bwonsamdi rested his chin on the back of his hand, his tone harsh and insulting.
"I thought the future leader of the Zandalar Kingdom would be different from the likes of Rastakhan. I thought a crafty schemer like you might do something to change the Zandalari Empire's slide into ruin. And what did I get? A bunch of useless fools!"
Zul offered no defense and simply stated