Sigmar in WoW Chapter 2 - Who Am I? (Patreon)

One thing that he could agree on wholeheartedly was that this place was terrible. It took him several hours to find a proper place to rest. Everything within the Black Morass was wet, smelly, and decaying and most importantly...

Filled with the orcs.

They were almost everywhere and in rather great numbers; his accurate senses allowed him rather easily avoid the numerically superior bands that were wandering through the Black Morass, but he knew that they were just gathering their forces.

He needed to be rather careful, as he already encountered another five orcs; fortunately for him, they were merely peons that were sent to scout the area, most probably, so all of them met the blunt side of Ghal Maraz. 

Dropping the orcish corpses into the swamps wasn't a problem, as they would soon disappear and nobody would know what someone was running around and killing the orcs.

Just a few hours from the moment he woke up, Sigmar realized something.

His emotional state was becoming increasingly chaotical. 

He didn't have time to realize it sooner, during the time when he was still searching for somewhere to sleep and rest, but now that he has found a nice secluded cavern, rather small, it really seemed like an abandoned dwarven outpost judging from the pôolished stone and stone doors that were leading to it.

The place that he found was rather small, but it was relatively nice and spacious enough for one person. He almost overlooked it, but he had enough memories of the dwarven structures and was able to recognize their hidden doors when he saw them.

It seemed that dwarves made it as some sort of guard place or something, but it was abandoned. Still, there was enough space for him to train and sleep for the time being, there was also a few stone beds? or it appeared like the stone bed and several pieces of pelts from bears and wolves.

He sat down on one of the stone beds, and after closing the stone doors that led to the abandoned dwarven guard outpost, he made some fire in the fireplace that was installed in the walls. 

He had to admit that the dwarven inventions and ingenuity were fascinating as they were indeed one of the smartest and most creative species, be it in the Azeroth or Mallus. It was a bit cold outside, even though for him it was nothing, as he could enter even far colder places with his physique, and he would feel nothing.

Still, it was better to be in warmth... it was more comfortable.

As he started into the fireplace, noticing that the dwarves that lived here left the supplies and everything not long ago, too... if he had to bet, then he would say that they were attempting to escape from the orcs and return either back to the Ironforge or Shadowforge. 

Rather Shadowforge, as the Dark Iron Clan, was much closer to the Black Morass than the Ironforge. Though dealing with the Dark Iron Dwarves was for several reasons as problematic as dealing with the orcs and Horde.

Now that he found a moment of tranquility, he could finally contemplate on his turbulent emotional state that was getting worse with each passed encounter with the orcs.

Something that he noticed only after several hours, but every time he saw the orcs, it was like something had woken up within in him and drove him to kill as many of them as possible with extreme prejudice.

During the several hours of pondering over his particular situation, he came to understand that he was who he was.

There was no point in thinking over the matter too seriously if he was more Sigmar Heldenhammer, the Emperor of the Empire and God of Sigmarites, or Jonathan Smith, the Senior Executive Counsellor of the Sector 7 of the United States of North America and architect of the Fallen Sun Initiative. 

One was a glorious figure, the hero of countless and worshipped as God on Earth, while the other was someone who, with his schemes, brought ruin to the nations during World War III, and some said that the genocides that he orchestrated were the worst and biggest in the history of Earth. 

Right now, Sigmar didn't want to be either one.

Being worshipped as God was...

Terrible.

Godhood changed a person on a fundamental level; one was detached from everything, only adhering to the strict principles of Godhood and nothing else. Nothing was free in this reality and this was also the case, he was aware from the memories that when he became God, then he lost large part of himself.

At the same time, he wasn't Jonathan Smith either. World War III on Earth destroyed the entire human civilization, with only a few states remaining in power, and those were doing all kinds of atrocities to secure power for their own future. 

And he did his fair share of things, many of which he wasn't really that proud about, but they were all necessary to ensure the hegemony of the USNA and partially to fulfill his very own thirst for vengeance against those who wronged him and his family in the past.

If not for that, he would orchestrated a nuclear holocaust on the New Soviet Union and turned the entire nation into a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Yeah, he was a very vengeful and petty person to no end, with zero remorse over his actions for most of the time and tortured by his inner demons. 

Yet now...

He felt free from both of the fates.

Having several thousand years' worth of memories in his head was also the main reason why he chose to embrace the name Sigmar. 

It was a name that was with him for more than two and half millennia, far more than memories of Jonathan Smith, who at 41 committed suicide by drinking poison.

Now...

He was just a Sigmar.

He accepted the memories of the two people in his head as his own, but he decided that he was a new person. 

Nothing more and nothing else.

With a new possibility of life.

For the time being, he decided to go to the sleep, of course without putting down his armor, it was still dangerous out there and it was possible that this place could be found by the orcs and he could be attacked here.

Even though, it was highly improbable because even he, who was once the greatest friend of the Dawi also, overlooked the entrance to the outpost, so he didn't think that the orcs had enough intelligence potential to see it. 

And even if they saw the doors, they would most likely ignore it or just attempt to breach them by striking them with their weapons, which wasn't a bad scenario, as that would allow him to wake almost instantly due to the noise.

Soon enough, as tired as he was from everything, he closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep. 

***

The next day, when he woke up, the first thing he did was start training. It was like an automatic decision because he noticed that his movements and combat style were rather sluggish compared to the memories he had seen.

He didn't need to be a genius to figure out what was missing. 

The muscle memory of his body as it seemed. 

He wasn't even very hungry for the time being as he planned to go out and hunt for something at a later date. Finding his way out from the Black Morass would be an arduous task; he had a rudimentary idea where the Black Morass was located, but he had no idea how to get to the Stormwind, which was his destination.

The Stormwind would be soon enough the place where the two worlds would clash and he needed to ensure that the Stormwind won't fall. That was paramount for him right now, as something within his very own soul was hugging him to quell the orcs during their attacks on the Stormwind.

However, Sigmar also knew that it wouldn't be that easy. 

At first, he didn't know the exact number of the orcs that managed to cross into the Azeroth, though he could estimate that something above the half million at least. The worst thing about the orcs was that due to their racial traits, their entire species were fighters and warriors, and physically, they were superior to humans.

The second thing, there were greater forces at play in this as he had seen in his memories... the demons of the Burning Legion and the Dark Titan that was possessing the Guardian of the Stormwind, which was basically the reason why the Dark Portal was opened.

Still, due to the knowledge about the timeline that he possessed, he could prepare and act based on it. The subsequent butterfly effect would be a problem for a later date, but Sigmar was determined to destroy the green menace once and for all. 

The hatred that the Heldenhammer held for the Greenskins of the Old World was something undeniable and extraordinarily strong. He also couldn't understand how the Alliance and Horde could later on coexist; in his eyes, the orcs were just ticking time bombs that could be corrupted by the Burning Legion at any given time. 

He could understand leaving alone the Orcish Clans, like the Frostwolves, who were deeply rooted in their Shamanism, but the other ones? 

Especially the ones that were still tainted with the demon blood; they needed to be either culled down or worked to death or something.

Leaving them alive to thrive and rebuild their forces was a great mistake. They even got together with another great enemy that threatened the sentient races of humans, dwarves, and elves, which were the Trolls that were worshipping their Dark Gods and Entities.

Something that Sigmar swore to never repeat, as the orcs should never threaten any human, dwarf, or elf. They were a species who knew nothing but destruction and death; the fate of the Draenei was the testament to that, or what they had been doing since they arrived at the Azeroth.

For the entire day, he continued his training with his warhammer according to the memories, as his movements became more smoother and his strikes were much faster and more deadly than they were compared to the before.

Another thing that he started noticing just now, was that the Magic in this world was far more denser compared to the Mallus. It would be more prudent to say that according to the memories of the Sigmar Heldenhammer, the Magic in the Mallus, while dense, was more like fog upon a rainy day, but in the Azeroth?

Magic was far more denser, like a thick layer of smoke.

It certainly had some boons, because he was able to sense that he was getting stronger.

Just being in this environment where everything was being saturated with a high density of Mana allowed one to reach a very high degree of physical fitness even if they couldn't consciously control Mana and be classified as Mages.

Still, it didn't escape to his trained eye, as his memories depicted rather thoroughly how one could discern Magic and so on. Even though a lot of it was useless, as the Cosmology of the two Universes were vastly different, he had to admit after he compared it with the memories of Jonathan Smith.

They were nowhere close to each other, but there were still certain similarities with it. 

That was better than nothing, and it could be a starting point. 

He also wondered if he could control the Arcane and be Mage? 

Or Light and be a Paladin? 

Or maybe something knew? 

A fusion Class of Arcane and Light?

He knew that his situation was unique, as he felt that Magic around him very clearly, and with a few experiments, he could achieve some rudimentary control over the Arcane, even though it would be best to have someone teach him properly.

Both Light and Arcane were one of the fundamental forces of the Universe and part of the Cosmology and were one of the most basic powers that were used by the Azerothians.