In the early hours of the morning, with most still lulled to sleep from the rush of the huge water-walls of Nazjatar, several Sergeants, sent by the Blood Guards of their respective cohorts, roused the sleeping soldiers. Their time had finally come: they were going home.
With each passing day, the Vol’kar saw less and less battalions - either from death during service, or escalation out of the world’s most active combat zone. It seems as if their words of engagement: “First into the fray, last to rest” was taking its true toll. They’d find less around the campfires, their stories became repeated, food became drab, and morale started to dwindle.
Those who stepped through the portal back to Orgrimmar would feel the sudden rush of heat and humidity, splashings of water bursting through. There weren’t that many to cross over. A sickening, sinking feeling would eventually cross the bellies of every soldier. Ever since the final Legion war, they had lost so many - and replenished next to none. Familiar faces were only legend, now, and mythical faces were so far, far away.
Under the assumption of an extended time on the homefront, soldiers were advised to decompress and relax. They were needed at the Echo Isles, however, as soon as they were able. A promotion and medallion ceremony was underway.
Upon stepping on the shores of Sen’Jin village, they found Jan-Mak there, ceremonial box in hand. He was prepared to give awards as seen fit, but in truth, they were never going to reach their destinations.
Renown for his stoic composure, it broke within a few seconds. Soldiers watched in awe as the troll stripped himself of all regalia - medal, tabard, rank, and armor that described him of the prestigious rank he took. He folded it neatly and placed it onto the sands before him.
He renounced his loyalties to the Banshee Queen, yet cursed the name of Saurfang. To him - the Horde he loved, had died a long, long time ago. It just hadn’t been buried yet, and he saw himself as a caretaker of this shambling corpse. He had hoped that one day it would turn around - perhaps be revived, but it just never came to be. The rivers of blood that would be the dead of this war would never be avenged. The hundreds – thousands that died in this war so far will be greeted by those who had already died in Hellscream’s war. It is all the same. The repeated cycle of failure, anguish, hatred.
This was met with wild and varied reaction. Not all shared his vision - in fact, very few did. Most spoke of the tyrannical oppression of Warchief Windrunner, and the genocidal killstreaks of hers. Some chose to view their former brothers and sisters as traitors - and left with little word to report this finding to new regiments.
All in all, Jan-Mak found himself now branded as the “Outlaw-Warlord” with little more than a handful of friends. Warlord Auhgag joined him, destined to see where these adventures would take him. “Until the end.”
With only one remaining commanding officer at his side, General Dolthar Blackfire, Jan-Mak ferried his outlaw-soldiers to the Dark Tower of Desolace. From there they plan their next moves.
Admiral Rustcleaver, joined by Centurion Emberbrook and Stone Guard Krik’thor Dreadwing, took a large portion of the rankings and retreated south into Kalimdor. While they take no official name for their group, it is assumed they shall join Saurfang’s rebellion.
General Neeza Highclaw left - outraged at Jan-Mak’s inaction and decision to not join the rebellion. Cursing his name (mostly from passion and heartbreak), she left with no true crew beneath her control.
Lieutenant General Zisho did the same, joining with Neeza as they walked out into the Durotar heat.
Lieutenant General Lo’Gar’Nosh’s fate remains to be seen, as he drew his blades to kill Jan-Mak - only to throw them at his feet.
General Jarclair Richards gave Jan-Mak no clear answer. Taking his fold with those who left for the rebellion - it looked as if he’d cast his lot with them, yet instead, he appears to retreat into the vastness of southern Kalimdor.
These were only the actions taken from key figures in tonight’s dramatic breaking of the Vol’kar. There were roughly 48 people in attendance - the second largest event the Vol’kar has ever had, requiring two raid groups and taking nearly four hours. It was a purely organic reaction event - there was no plan, and it was all secretive, even among the officer corps.
This breaking of the Vol’kar was not a light decision. It was a tough choice that weighed heavily upon the mind of Jan-Mak, and his creator, me.
As I break character from my usual pseudo-IC reports and news updates, I’ve been dreading this event for months on end. I planned it a very long time ago in the infancy of Battle for Azeroth. I made it just in case that Blizzard would do the unthinkable and go on a SoO 2.0 path. Without getting into dramatics, it’s heartbreaking that it came to this.
While the guild is NOT disbanding, it will be waaaay different than before. There are now several groups within the Vol’kar composed of newer-recruits and older veterans that seek a new path for the Horde. While there is only one group that IS using the guild tag/moniker “Vol’kar Legion” for official purposes, the guild is still being used by several groups to plan events and pathways.
We hope these groups will interact and proceed like before, but can’t guarantee anything. Those who don’t wish to interact with the traitor group, the loyalist group, or the rebellion group don’t have to - and they also DON’T have to leave the guild, if they don’t want to.
Many tears were shed tonight. Dozens of hearts were broken. Lots of keyboards are now wet. The Vol’kar Legion - as everyone knew it - will return again in the future. I hope it comes faster than we know it will. I love you all dearly, and hope you understand from the bottom of my heart - just how much this guild means to me.
Until then, I’ll see 90% of you on the other side. 
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