Three troll warbands, united under the banner of Drakkari troll reinforcements, descended upon Zul'drak. Their initial pretense of purging internal heretics and traitors quickly dissolved, revealing a more ambitious and coordinated invasion.
The differences between forest trolls and ice trolls became starkly apparent. The Drakkari ice trolls, marked by their predominantly azure skin, contrasted sharply with the cyan or green hues of the forest trolls, whose bodies were often adorned with moss-like growths.
Ordinarily, such blatant interference in tribal affairs, especially between equally ranked forest and ice trolls, would have ignited fierce resistance from all quarters. The exception, of course, would have been the Zandalari trolls, the acknowledged overlords of all trollkind.
However, the Zandalari's power in Northrend proved woefully inadequate. They couldn't even safeguard their Loa. In a stunning turn of events, the three forest troll warbands not only rescued the captured Loa but also swayed them to their cause. United, they launched a counter-offensive against Zul'drak, their battle cry echoing, "For the Lord of the Holy Spirit!"
The outskirts of Zul'drak fell swiftly. Cultivated lands, arenas, and priest districts were all captured, leaving Frost King Malakk with only the northern capital of Gundrak and the southern stronghold of Drak'Tharon Keep.
Though formidable and easily defended, these strongholds were now isolated, two unconnected territories surrounded by the resurgent forest trolls. Their fall was inevitable.
The leaders of the three warbands stood before the gates of Gundrak, the ancient troll capital looming before them.
"Zul'jin, do you finally understand the Grand Warlord's assessment of the forest trolls? That they were the most pathetic of all troll tribes?"
"Don't call me 'jin'! I am no longer a mere tribal leader of the forest trolls!" Zul'jin retorted. In the troll language, the suffix "jin" denoted nobility and leadership.
"No, you can still rise to lead our people, but all now falls under the will of the Lord of Life," Tas'dingo declared.
"Indeed," Commander Vor'takh added, "Our purge of the old ways was for the rebirth of our people! And now that you, Zul'jin, have joined us, we offer you leadership in service to the Lord of Life!"
"Strength, skill, strategy – you surpass us in all," Tas'dingo admitted. "And remember, the Lord of Life's command extends beyond us forest trolls. He has a great host of quillboar, and even jungle trolls now march with us. You, Zul'jin, are the only one who can truly lead this army!"
Their words hinted at the diverse forces now under their banner. While they acknowledged the quillboar as a significant vassal race, they omitted others, like the kobolds and gnolls, deemed less valuable in combat. The jungle trolls were represented primarily by the Darkspear tribe, their numbers small but their potential undeniable.
Zul'jin recalled the recent battles. The Troll Vanguard and the Darkhide Warband had consistently guarded the Amani flanks, showing no signs of challenging his authority. What he had mistaken for rivals had become his staunchest allies.
"I accept your offer," Zul'jin said, "Let us work together to restore the glory of the forest trolls!"
The question of their allegiance to the Scarlet Crusade was secondary. Even at the height of the Amani Empire, they had been vassals of the Zandalari. A new overlord was a small price to pay for power.
Zul'jin extended his left arm, rebuilt with the limbs of fallen trolls, and the three leaders clasped hands.
"Drak'Tharon Keep still holds over ten thousand Drakkari, under Overlord Mor'Lagg," Tas'dingo reported, "And Gundrak itself is defended by fifty thousand trolls, with at least twenty thousand ready for battle, commanded by Frost King Malakk!"
"They are but remnants," Zul'jin scoffed. "They dare to stand against us with so few?"
The Scarlet Crusade had effectively united the forest trolls, their numbers now exceeding 1.5 million. This was before their alliance with the orcs and humans; years of suppression had done little to diminish their population.
However, the balance of power had shifted. The Amani, once the most populous tribe, now ranked lowest. The Witherbark and Darkhide tribes, the first to submit to the Scarlet Crusade, now held sway. Smaller tribes like the Revantusk, Vilebranch, and Mossflayer had merged into their ranks.
The Drakkari, once a million strong, had been halved by the Scourge. Of the survivors, Zul'jin had absorbed three hundred thousand, while Vor'takh and Tas'dingo commanded the remaining one hundred and seventy thousand.
Frost King Malakk was cornered.
"Then," Zul'jin declared, "let us build the Amani Empire upon the bones of the ice trolls!"
"For the destruction of Zul'drak!" the others roared.
"As for the Zandalari," Zul'jin mused, "let the Loa who have embraced the Holy Light explain our actions. Who would dare to accuse us, with the combined wrath of so many Loa gods against them?"
"Accuse us?" Zul'jin smiled contemptuously. "Today, it is the Drakkari. Tomorrow, it will be the Gurubashi. What have we to fear?"
"Let us move, then!"
The three troll leaders summoned their lieutenants. Six thousand raptor troll riders and three thousand Amani war bear riders prepared to charge upon the ancient Drakkari capital.
These forces were bolstered by the offspring of the Loa gods themselves – giant devilsaurs, swift cheetahs, lumbering Northrend rhinos, and massive white Arctodus, alongside giant serpents that slithered across the land.
Frost King Malakk, anticipating the attack, had arrayed his forces to meet the Amani onslaught at the Gundrak stairs.
From his vantage point atop Gundrak, Malakk's heart sank.
His Drakkari ancestors had driven the defeated Aqir north, where they had clashed with corrupted Titan creations. Though the Titan creations had inflicted grievous wounds, the Drakkari had ultimately triumphed, establishing their empire.
They had overcome countless foes. Even the Scourge's endless undead tide had failed to drown them.
Yet, in less than a month, everything had changed.
He was reduced to a single capital city. Drak'Tharon Keep might hold, but it alone could not save them.
He knew who was responsible: Zul'jin, High Warlord of Zul'Aman.
The trolls were among the world's oldest races. Though defeated by the Night Elf Empire millennia ago, they had endured, gathering every six years in Zuldazar under the Zandalari Empire.
At the last gathering, the forest trolls had been on the brink of extinction, pleading for Zandalari protection. Now, they were his destroyers.
The shadow of Zandalar loomed large. They had sent envoys to dissuade him from seeking the Loa's power.
Frost King Malakk's heart burned with hatred.
He gripped Zhar'ator, the Greatstaff of Saratok, and leaped from the platform, plunging the greatsword into the skull of a charging devilsaur.
The beast crashed to the ground.
"Zul'jin! I know you are here!" Malakk roared, unleashing his legendary power.
A gong sounded, and the Amani trolls disengaged, falling back to the south.
As the gong's echo faded, the three troll leaders emerged before Gundrak's gates, surrounded by their warriors.
"I am here!" Zul'jin stepped forward.
"Why do you attack my kingdom?" Malakk demanded, raising Zhar'ator.
"It is the will of the Loa!" Zul'jin declared, deflecting blame.
My cause is just.
"Hmph. We both know your true motives," Malakk said, "But no matter. Victory is all that matters, and you have won."
The Drakkari had been undone by a relentless tide of enemies. Their strength had failed them. At least they fell to their own kind.
"Zul'jin," Malakk conceded, "Grant me a dignified end."
"As you wish, Malakk!" Zul'jin drew his twin golden hand axes and stepped within striking distance.
The clash of metal echoed as the two kings met.
As kings, they were the mightiest of their tribes.
"I am the strongest!" Zul'jin roared, abandoning all restraint. His throwing axes blurred as he hurled them at Malakk from every angle. Each time Malakk parried, the axes curved back into Zul'jin's hands.
"Petty tricks!" Malakk roared, infusing his greatsword with frost energy, turning the black iron a brilliant blue. "Frost Strike!"
He swung the frost-covered blade.
"Ha! Frost is nothing to me, Malakk!" Zul'jin transformed into a massive, fire-red dragonhawk. "The dragonhawk sees all!"
He unleashed a torrent of dragonhawk breath, melting the ice and neutralizing Malakk's attack.
"Loa… no! It is all nothing!" Malakk raged. The Drakkari had risen and fallen with the Loa. If he had not allowed his priests to imprison and exploit their gods, perhaps his people would not have lost their faith.
"Zul'jin! Come and end this!"
"As you wish! Behold my new power, Malakk! Become a bear!"
A colossal bear appeared and slammed Malakk into the gates of Gundrak.
"Cough… cough… The Amani bear… is not as majestic… as the Drakkari's… Northern Bear God…"
Frost King Malakk breathed his last.
Zul'jin turned from the fallen king and addressed the Drakkari. "People of the Drakkari, your king is dead. Lay down your arms, and I, in the name of Akali, Hak'koa, Mam'toth, and Rhunok, will welcome you into our ranks. I shall be your new leader!"
Weapons fell. The ten-thousand-year reign of the Drakkari Empire had ended.
A group of richly adorned trolls approached Zul'jin.
"Zul'jin!" The witch doctor at their head, draped in gold, glared at him. "I am Witch Doctor Kuffa of Zandalar. Your Amani have shown utter contempt for the Zandalar Empire by interfering in the Drakkari's internal affairs!"
Zul'jin chuckled. "We hold the Zandalari in the highest regard, Witch Doctor. We mourn the Drakkari's self-destruction. But we were invited here by the five Northern Loa gods!"
As if to confirm his words, the snow leopard god Hak'koa, the polar bear god Rhunok, the mammoth god Mam'toth, and the rhino god Akali appeared in the distance, watching Zul'jin.
These powerful Loa had already joined the Holy Light Sect under Akali's guidance and stood firmly behind the Amani.
Witch Doctor Kuffa's face flushed with anger. No troll had ever dared to speak to a Zandalari in such a manner!
"Hmph! I will report this to King Rastakhan! He will unleash his wrath upon you ignorant Amani!" The Zandalari delegation turned and stormed away.
"Fools," Tas'dingo scoffed as they departed. "They are blinded by past glories and remain ignorant of the changes sweeping this world."
Commander Retherokk stepped forward, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Zul'jin, shall I…?" He made a cutting motion across his throat.
"No… not yet," Zul'jin replied.
"However," Zul'jin added, a sly grin spreading across his face, "we can inform our Bloodsail allies. They can... intercept them at sea, ensuring that Zandalar never learns of our involvement."
"Excellent! And a modest tribute to Madam Goya will ensure their discretion."
"See to it," Zul'jin ordered. "Use our internal Crusader communication system. No one outside our circle must know."
"It will be done."