She stumbled into the cave leaving a small trail of blue blood behind her as the tinkerer gripped her right arm. She glanced back before clenching a fist while forcing the elements to respond, the earth shuddering as the entrance was swallowed up in rocks with only a few places for the light to peek through. Moving over to a rock the shaman slumped down on it before again trying to heal the wounds she’d suffered, but finding that no matter how she shouted she just couldn’t control the slippery water element finely enough to do anything at all about her injuries.
The large hall, dug out from stone and reinforced with steel, looked very different from its normal status as a construction bay. Machinery replaced by granite benches, and industrial lighting replaced by great braziers and glorious banners hanging on the wall, and a great orange carpet forming a walkway leading to an old, scorched altar.
The Swamp of Sorrows was eerily quiet, which was putting the Horde convoy on edge as their wagon moved along the road having left Bog Paddle earlier in the day heading towards Stonard with supplies destined for Vol’jin’s forces that were helping to hold back the Iron Horde. Not only was the wagon weighted down with equipment but so was the Kodo that pulled it. Convoy guards flanked both sides of the wagon their gaze scanning the road and the swamp.