Chapter 29

What Awaits?

"If these tunnels are controlled by the Scourge, how do we get to the tomb?"

"We don't."

"What?"

"Not through those tunnels, at least."

"Don't do that. It's not funny."

"Sorry."

Ara'borak chuckled mildly at Stefan's reaction. As poor in taste as the joke was, Stefan was happy to see that the Nerubians had a sense of humor. There was much the world had to learn about the mysterious spider folk. If all went well, Mae's journal would be an enlightening piece of literature.

"There is another way?" asked Iyana.

"Indeed," replied Ara'borak. He pointed to a singular, thin line on the map-model. "This tunnel has been abandoned even before the Scourge invaded the tunnels. They do not know of its existence. We could not access it, because the key is required to open the way."

The Nerubian turned to Stefan. "You see why your presence is so important."

"Aye," said Stefan, his eyes darting from eye to eye on the Nerubian's head. He wasn't sure which one he should be looking at. "Glad to be of assistance, I guess."

Ara'borak nodded appreciatively.

"When do we start?" asked Haydric. There was fire in his voice and excitement in his eyes.

"As soon as you get some rest. In eight hours time, I shall awaken you and show you the way to the abandoned tunnel," said Ara'borak, skittering to the room's single doorway. He turned to address them one last time. "There are sleeping quarters on the next floor. We have cleared a single room to accomodate all of you. Enjoy yourselves."

---

It was a large, circular room. Quite spacious, and very homey. It didn't seem natural for a room to be so inviting so many miles away in an unknown world, and so far underground. Yet it was.

Large, soft mattresses littered the floor. They were extremely comfortable. Guro'jintal and Lyra shared one, giggling to each other, as did Stefan and Iyana. Mae was still working by torchlight on a journal entry while Geraldros kept her company close by. Fineus, Molgoby, and Haydric sat in a circle, discussing old journeys.

"I'm excited," said Iyana, snuggling up next to Stefan.

"Me too," replied Stefan, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Are you scared?" whispered Iyana.

"A little," said Stefan. "It's more of an adrenaline rush though, this whole chosen thing. Why me, a farm boy from Elwynn?"

"Someone's got to do it, Stefan," said Iyana.

"Yeah," said Stefan, putting an arm around Iyana and closing his eyes. "Luck of the draw I guess."

The room was nearly silent.

"Damnit."

---

Ara'borak awoke them to a good breakfast. He took them to the streets of Azjol-Nerub, where peddling stands like in the Trade District of Stormwind were erected, selling wears and foods, both common and rare. Some of the things were familiar; there were jewels, pottery, bread, and meats. But most of the items were alien in design, and much of the food was inedible to the group. Large insects, cave beasts, and other underground dwellers had been roasted and hung out for display. But Ara'borak was not an ignorant diplomat. Eggs, sausage, and fresh bread had been prepared for them. They ate heartily, the best meal they had seen in weeks. Afterwards, Ara'borak led them to a Nerubian armory.

"I have a feeling that the journey ahead will be your toughest. There are more than just traps that our ancestors had lain from ages past. Creatures of the deep earth lurk as well," said the Nerubian. "And even we, the dominant race of the underworld, acknowledge their presence with caution. We do not underestimate them, nor do we let our tiny heads inflate."

"Perhaps one of the many reasons your people have preservered where the Quiraji could not," said Haydric.

He didn't get the response he thought he would. The Nerubian stared at him blankly. "We do not speak much of our barbaric cousins. They will not be missed, nor will their homicidal beliefs in the Old Ones."

With that Ara'borak turned and slid three heavy crates across the floor. In them were some of the strangest looking outfits: plated armor pieces, chainmail, leather, and cloth, all layered and woven together in a thick, powerful thread that looked more tender than the thinnest strand of silk. But to the touch, it was impossible to break. Molgoby attempted to tear a cloth robe in two, but was rewarded with aching fingers a few tries later.

"Nerubian spider silk. More delicate than Mageweave, stronger than Truesilver," said Ara'borak proudly.

"I'm impressed," began Stefan, who, with the help of Iyana, was sliding a leather harness over his torso. "Thoroughly impressed."

With the tug of a string on the backside, the armor clung to his frame, but not strong enough to choke the air out of him. There was room for movement, yet it was tight enough so as not to get in the way during combat.

"Remarkable," said Molgoby as he swung his arms about in a suit of heavy plate.

"I know who I'm standing behind," remarked Fineus, helping himself to leather gear.

When they had donned their armor, Ara'borak led them on. They arrived at another temple-like construct. Inside, there was a single room barren of furnishing or care. They approached the far end of the room, where a solitary door sat lonely in the dilapidated building. Their steps left footprints in the dust, and several cobwebs littered the masonry. Geraldros sneezed.

"Alright, let's do this," said Stefan, pulling the artifact out of the pouch and placing it in the lock.

Before he could twist, one of Ara'borak's hands snaked onto his wrist. "You are ready, Stefan Dreis?"

It was one of the few questions in life that Stefan could not readily answer.

"I couldn't have come this far if I weren't ready, Herr Ara'borak."

The Nerubian nodded. "You understand that you may take your last breath within the depths of that tomb?"

"It's quite clear."

"Then good luck--"

"Just one thing," added the Human. "What do I do once I've got the treasure?"

"The prophecies never told," said Ara'borak. "But I have a feeling you'll know, come the time."

Stefan nodded, but he wasn't sure if he understood. Then Ara'borak let go of his wrist, and he turned the key. Sand fell in cascades of dust from the roof of the doorway as the ancient stone slid aside.