-4- Purple Haze

In another hour, it would be light enough to make out objects, but dark enough to obscure any fine details. And soon after, it would be dark. The Trolls and the Dwarves were perched on a low ridge of snow on the outskirts of the northern edge of the town. No houses were close by, so there was a good chance that they wouldn't be seen if the creatures did come from the town. A half dozen of their men were stationed at the rear of their position, just in case something decided to take them by surprise. But so far the only movement they had seen was a stray rabbit darting across the snow in search of food, no doubt. It hadn't been until the sun's rays had nearly vanished from the horizon that things started to pick up.

They felt it first. The ground beneath them trembled to a beat of two quick successive rumbles followed by a pause, and then another tremble. The Trolls and Dwarves looked at each other in confusion. They thought the ground was going to collapse beneath them, but eventually the tremors decreased in strength until they couldn't feel it any longer. Then something between a hiss and a moan traveled to their ears from the direction of the town. They grew incredibly still, wondering if something hideous was going to emerge from the gloom to approach their position. But the only thing to happen next was the final hint they needed.

It looked like the well was an eye that had just opened. A purple light was increasing in brightness as it emanated from the dried water hole. A funnel of light shot up toward the sky, illuminating a patch of clouds. Guro'jintal expected something else strange to happen, but after a few minutes of nothing else, it was safe to assume the show had reached its climax. It was time to bring things to a close.

"Kelar, you and your men remain here and act as rear-guard. My Trolls will find the source of that light," whispered Guro'jintal.

He saw the Dwarf nod in the purple darkness. "Sounds like a plan. Our guns will cover your arse out there."

"Good," Guro'jintal turned to the Trolls buried in the snow around him, "Let's move. Low and beneath the snow, lads."

Eleven piles of snow shifted, slinking forward like enthusiastic gophers. They crawled down the ridge at a brisk pace after weeks of practice in the snowy hills of the Dragonblight. All was going well until they had made it about halfway to the well, when a disturbance close by caused Guro'jintal to halt his advance and glance to his right. He would have alerted the others, but the source of the disturbance was more of an amusement than a threat.

A lone dire wolf crouched low in the snow several meters away. Its nocturnal eyes were aglow with a golden light, and it appeared as if the wolf was looking right at Guro'jintal. It was a beautiful creature, from the soft white fur to the powerful, prominent muscles of its legs. A beast of the hunt, one as deadly as it was graceful. A champion hunter without fear and a dire resolution, as it was rightfully named. The wolf turned to look in the direction of the town, then back at Guro'jintal. And then it grunted, running off into the darkness.

Guro'jintal couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn it had nodded.

---

As they arrived at the base of the well, their nerves were being tested with each passing breath. Every sound in the night was the enemy, and every shifting shadow was a stalking predator. Guro'jintal turned to look at the faint outline of the tanks on the hill, waving. Though he couldn't see Kelar's acknowledgment, the Dwarf would at least know everything was alright, so far. However, from here on there would be no more contact with the surface. As the first two Trolls descended in pairs on ropes to the bottom of the well, Guro'jintal got the feeling of dancing butterflies in his stomach as he usually felt before every battle, since his first. There were two things that never changed in a warrior throughout his career: his nerves, and the fear of death.

As he descended down the quiet shaft of the dried up well, Guro'jintal knew he could expect anything. After his stay in the ancient crypts of the Nerubians, he was convinced that anything was possible. As his feet touched the bottom and joined the others at the doorway that hadn't been visible in the day, the old Troll felt the familiar rush of anticipation. Crossbow in hand, he forced long deep breaths into his lungs to calm the subtle shakes in his hands that was so hard to escape when one's nerves were on end. After the last of the Trolls touched down, Guro'jintal reverted to silent hand gestures. Thanks to a lighting that seemed ambient with no source in sight, it was easy enough to see in the man-made tunnel of the well. Thin trails of smoke crawled along the roof of the tunnel to snake up toward the surface, effectively dousing their vision in a light haze.

The tunnel continued in a roughly-straight line for a few meters before it veered to the left and down. They began to descend in a spiral, like the final stretch to an underground hideout. The longer Guro'jintal thought about it, the more likely it seemed this to be the case. And after about three loops down the spiral, they heard the first laugh. It echoed off the walls quietly, sounding as if it was still a distance away. Nonetheless, the tone and melody of the sound was both sinister and unsettling. Guro'jintal urged the Trolls on, though he could tell their steps were more cautious than before. He could feel the tension gripping their muscles and squeazing the breath out of their lungs. True, he was just as anxious, but for sake of leadership he could not betray any sign of weakness.

But anyone with a hint of intelligence knew it was only a show. If there's a trace of humanity left in anyone, there's a weakness. But it was all a show, to see who could cover it up better than the next. It was those men who won wars.

The laughs were growing louder and louder. Upon reaching the bottom of the spiral, the tunnel opened up to a straight away that allowed them to travel three abreast. At the end of the long passage, Guro'jintal could see shadows dancing against a the glow of orange candlelight. The scented purple smoke was thicker here, and it appeared as if it was also the source of the glow. This added bit of information only made Guro'jintal hate their current predicament even more. As he turned the corner and entered a vast chamber with a high ceiling, he was surprised at the display before him.

It was an underground lab of sorts. Tables of alchemy tools lined the walls, a jungle of twisted glass that wove together to connect like a vast network of cables. As they all stepped into the room, the laughing emanating from the far end of the room slowly faded into a low chuckle. A Human came out from behind a shelf, a beaker of bubbling red liquid clutched delicately in his left hand. He was of average height and a rather thin build, presumtuously due to a lack of good food from too much lab work. The man's balding, wrinkled face was a mixture of delight and insanity when he smiled at them. Guro'jintal couldn't see the man's eyes, because a pair of pitch black safety goggles were strapped over them.

"What...who is this?" he asked, taking a step toward them. Instinctively the Trolls raised their crossbows, which made the man laugh. "Such hostile guests? But forgive me, I am being rude. My name is Fredrus Diaspan. Welcome to my humble abode."

"What's with all this, Fredrus?" said Guro'jintal, motioning with his crossbow toward the tables of equipment. "What are you doing down here?"

"Research, my dear Troll," replied Fredrus. "I am a man of science. And this is my lab. Here, I uncover the mysteries of Azeroth."

Guro'jintal didn't like the way the man was nearly singing as he spoke. "Uncovered anything interesting these past few days, Fredrus?"

The Human snapped his fingers with such enthusiasm that the Trolls visibly tensed. "Amazing! Have you been shadowing me, Troll? It just so happens that I've made a startling discovery this last week. And tonight, I've perfected that discovery. In fact, here it is."

He presented the beaker of red fluid to the Trolls. "This is the key to a new age of military strength. The subjects are granted remarkable power and an intensity matched by only the savagest of beasts. Of course, their life will never be as it was, but there is still time to smooth out the creases! The fact is, I've come across a remarkable breathrough in the world of science! And behold..."

Guro'jintal's breath lodged in his throat as Fredrus kicked aside the shelf, revealing a giant figure frozen in place in a fashion similar to that of the town populace. It was a yeti, and a big yeti at that. Judging by its sheer size it was a patriarch of its tribe; the alpha male, and one of the most ferocious creatures on Azeroth.

"Little could stand up to this beast already. And now, with my concoction coarsing through its veins, empowering it to greater heights of strength and endurance, what can stand against such a weapon?"

The Trolls remained silent, their crossbows still held high. Fredrus didn't appear to care that they were unenthusiastic, and continued his rant.

"And there are plently more creatures of the wild that my potion can affect. Armies of unstoppable power will be raised in His name! None will stand before Him and his legions! Glory to Him! Glory to the Lich King!"

The insane smile on the alchemist's face stood for a moment longer before he realized the Trolls hadn't returned the glorious salute. Then it dropped into a frown.

"Oh...I see."

Fredrus' sudden change of tone was all the warning he needed. Guro'jintal let loose a bolt, which went astray as the alchemist ducked behind the frozen yeti. The Human tossed the beaker at them, but the Trolls were quick to dodge the projectile and it fell harmlessly to the floor and shattered.

"Come out, Fredrus, you're outnumbered."

The Human poked his head from behind the massive beast's side, then slowly crept out from hiding. He raised his hands in defeat, and revealed himself fully. Then he began to speak, but no longer in Common.

"Ered'sheek kurai a-kreesh--"

Fredrus stopped mid-speech as Guro'jintal's bolt lodged in his throat. He sagged to one knee and leaned on the table behind him for support as he attempted to take in air. Realization dawned upon him that this would be his last breath, and then the dying Human exhaled.

"-Hokta!"

He fell over, blood leaking from the wound in his throat. His eyes faded.

But something else was stirring.