Sangnoir tries to help a pair of exiled nether drakes, and ends up being dragged into a crazy scheme that will probably take him, the drakes, and his treacherous imp to the Blasted Lands, and might still get him accused of being a draft dodger.
Two days ago, I pulled a letter from a nether-drake out of my mailbox. The most surprising thing about it at the time was that it had been sent from Shattrath two days before. I hadn't realized that we could get to Outland since the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands had changed color and this new Horde started pouring through.
A howl echoed through the castle as we climbed over the wreckage of the portcullis. It was probably the wind though. The Swarm had already devoured the warm-blooded residents of the ruin, and would have greeted us with chittering.
'It's knee deep, but the bed is full of rocks,” I warned Jim. “The footing will be treacherous, especially in such fast water. Wait, there's a Nerubian crouched behind those cocoons!” There were three cocoons, the right size and shape to hold Dwarves, but only two of them were moving.
"That's when we got stupid. To be fair, we'd been searching for almost eighteen hours at that point, and I could still hear the whispers from that temple above us. There was a “twang”, and the guard who had taken point went down."
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