Gul'dan leaned out from the bow of the ship, sniffing the ocean air.
He closed his eyes, using his sensitivity to fel energy to search for that powerful presence.
He felt it almost instantly, that sharp, intoxicating scent like fresh blood, so strong it made his skin prickle. His hair crackled with power.
"Stop!" he shouted. The clan members rowing behind him stopped at once.
The boat slowed quickly, drifting silently on the surface of the sea. Gul'dan began to smile.
"We're here," he declared.
"But, there's nothing here," said an orc named Drak'zul from his own Stormreaver clan.
Gul'dan turned, opening his eyes to stare at the young orc warlock.
"Nothing?" He laughed.
"So what do you suggest, should we chain you up and throw you into the depths to check, or will you just sit still and trust that I know what I'm doing?"
Drak'zul backed off, mumbling an apology. Gul'dan had already dismissed him entirely.
He looked toward a nearby vessel, where the two-headed ogre mage Cho'gall stood near the bow.
"Notify the others," Gul'dan instructed his assistant.
"We begin now. The Doomhammer likely already suspects our movements, I won't risk being interrupted before we've achieved our goal."
The ogre nodded and issued commands to those on his own ship, then passed the orders to the next vessel.
Ropes were thrown across the waters.
Some orcs grabbed the lines and pulled themselves over, others swam, using the ropes to steer, depending on their ability and whether they could even swim.
Soon, all the ogres and orcish warlocks had boarded Gul'dan's ship.
"The place we seek, an ancient temple, lies right beneath us," Gul'dan said, once his warlocks were gathered on the deck.
"Sure, we could dive down and enter it. But I have no idea how deep it is, and I don't much care for the cold and dark down there," he added with a grin.
"Instead, we're going to lift the entire island and bring the temple to us."
"Can we actually do that?" one of the ogre warlocks asked.
"Of course we can," Gul'dan replied.
"Not long ago, back home on Draenor, our people raised an entire landmass, a volcano in Shadowmoon Valley.
Back then, I led the Shadow Council. This time, the roster's just a little different."
He paused, waiting to see if anyone had questions or objections. None came.
Good. These warlocks weren't just powerful, they were obedient. Gul'dan was very satisfied.
"When do we begin? (I can't wait!)" Cho'gall finally asked.
"Right now," said Gul'dan. "Why wait?"
He turned and pointed toward the rail of the ship. His assistants began to gather around him.
Then he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, connecting to the immense power he had sensed beneath the sea.
For a warlock of his strength, locating it was easy.
Once he had it firmly in his grasp, Gul'dan began to pull, using magic to draw the energy and its source toward him.
At the same time, he extended his will outward, channeling magic through the ambient energy around him, the energy of the other warlocks.
The fel power resonated among them, converging into a force mighty enough to shake the seas.
The sky above began to darken, and the surrounding ocean surged wildly.
"I've got it," he growled to the nearby warlocks. "Track my mana, you'll feel it like your own. Pour your power into the construct I've formed. Pull with me! Now!"
He felt Cho'gall and the other warlocks channeling their power into his.
The sky turned a deep crimson, thunder roared like a coming storm, and enormous waves slammed into their ship.
The oppressive drag of that buried force began to lighten, but the task was still far from easy.
Each tug strengthened their magic circle. Nature itself howled in protest, but they stood firm.
They stood there for hours, unmoving in the eyes of the warriors and sailors who were battling the furious sea.
Saltwater soaked them to the bone.
Thunder cracked their ears; lightning flashed so bright it nearly blinded them. The ships pitched and rolled wildly. The orcs gripped their oars tightly to maintain their positions.
Many orcs looked on in fear at Gul'dan and his warlocks. But such was the awe and terror they inspired that, even amid the chaos, no one dared abandon their post.
At last, fire and smoke erupted from the water not far from the bow, filling the air with soot and ash.
Through the grit and steam, they saw something rising from the sea, like the pointed beak of a chick breaking from its shell.
It looked like stone at first, but what happened next left the watching orc warriors utterly stunned.
The shape rapidly grew, bursting from the waves. Water and molten rock spilled down from its peak. What had been a small stone swelled into a massive slab, then became a plateau, and finally a rocky flatland.
More parts emerged, rising from the sea not far from the first, each connected to the next.
As the water drained away, the orcs realized they were seeing an entire island rising from the ocean floor, still spewing fire, ash, and steam.
Then came a second, slightly smaller island, then a third, and a fourth.
Eventually, the blood-red sky shifted back to its usual leaden gray. The colossal waves began to fade, falling back to the height of a ship's mast.
Gul'dan opened his eyes. He staggered slightly, leaning on the railing to rest, just like the handful of other warlocks beside him.
Even for a legendary warlock of his caliber, that spell had drained nearly all his strength.
He looked up at the newly emerged island chain. Steam still hissed from the land, and the air boomed as the formations took on their final shapes.
Gul'dan laughed.
"Very soon," he murmured, gazing at the islands and sensing what lay within, calculating the location of what he sought.
"Very soon, I'll lead you to the temple. The priceless treasure lies within."
If Alaric or Aegwynn were here, they would have recognized the temple instantly.
It was the very place where Aegwynn had sealed the powerful corpse of the demon lord Sargeras after defeating him, hidden in the Broken Isles, known as the Tomb of Sargeras.
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