-10- Enter Fabrovus Marx

Another door joining the study led back into the maze of metal walkways. After the intense heat of the burning paper, the cold atmosphere of the catwalks was almost comforting. Guro'jintal found it amusing that they had grown so accustomed to the cold, despite their backgrounds. He thought he wouldn't see the day that he could relate to their barbaric cousins, the Ice Trolls. War was unpredictable.

The large pipe was still there, leading them onward. It felt as if the tunnels would continue on in all directions forever, but that was only because the Trolls had been advancing with such caution that anything would have seemed an eternity. But Guro'jintal had always stressed the importance of patience and keen awareness. Haste would be the death of any a good warrior if he was careless. So they moved on pace by pace, constantly watching their backs, fronts, and sides without a moment of respite.

Then things started to get interesting. They were nearly out of a particularly dark patch of walkway when a shadow played across a light up ahead. All at once they tensed and their weapons came up to defend against an imminent threat. But as they held their breaths, not even the slightest betrayal of footsteps met their ears. It was silent and still. That meant whatever had created that shadow either hadn't seen them, or was waiting up ahead. Guro'jintal had been taught that the latter is to be assumed. He threw his hand into the air, raising two fingers and pointing them forward. Wotam and Alojin, at the front of the pack, slowly crept forward. Guro'jintal, Hirojata, and Jakazul followed soon after. In the peace of the walkway, there was only the muffled sound of the Trolls' feet against the floor.

Then an arm shot out from the darkness to their right, and Alojin froze as a blade was pressed to his neck. They all turned to their invisible adversary, but did not budge.

"Don't move," spoke a soft voice.

"Don't listen to him! Kill the b*****d!" whispered Alojin.

"If you do anything, they might see us," replied the voice.

Guro'jintal wasn't sure what the figure meant, but then he saw them emerge from a connecting tunnel up ahead. They were armored substantially and carried large broadswords strapped to their backs. In the light the Trolls could see that, through the kinks in the armor, they were skeletons. Undead warriors, and ones more intelligent than a jabbering ghoul. They were carrying something Humanoid in form, gripping the figure by the arms and letting its feet drag along the floor. It was dressed in tatters and appeared unconscious, though apart from that the figure appeared to be in good health. The trio of figures disappeared along another tunnel, one that the large pipe followed. A good sign, perhaps.

Guro'jintal's attention was drawn back to the mystery man who had held a dagger up to his comrade's throat and then warned them of a threat. The dagger withdrew, and the Trolls stepped away and demanded that whoever he was, he step into the light. The figure complied.

And that's when they realized it wasn't a man at all. It was female, one with long, lithe legs and a graceful gait. The dull glow of her eyes immediately denoted her as a Night Elf. She had pale-purple skin, and vibrant purple hair that reflected the light at just the right angle. She slid the dagger she had been holding to Alojin's throat into a sheath on one side of her hip, and that was when Guro'jintal noticed the second one on the opposite side of her belt.

And then he saw her face, and suddenly things began to fall into place. She had known not to harm them because they were allies, even before she had held the dagger to Alojin's throat. But to Guro'jintal, they were more than allies. They were friends. His heart leapt in his chest as he finally recognized the smiling countenance of the pretty Elven female looking right at him.

"Iyana! Iyana Moonbreeze!"

"Guro'jintal!"

They embraced, and for a moment Guro'jintal felt the cold sheet of ice that had blanketed his heart for so many months melt away.

---

Since the last time I saw you, much has happened. After war was officially declared against the Lich King, I went to Booty Bay and met Haydric. You remember Haydric? He's still selfish as ever. I'm surprised Stefan didn't rub off on him more. He almost didn't want to go to Northrend to fight, but I finally coaxed him into it. We took a mercenary boat to the Howling Fjord, where the Alliance had set up some major operations, like Warsong Hold. Things have been good between the Alliance and Horde. It's amazing how great of a mutual threat it takes to bring our warring factions together. I wish people were more tolerant.

You met some Dwarves, you say? A good bunch they are, the Dwarves. Haydric stayed in Valgarde to help put together a contigent of men to head to the front lines. I found a band of Dwarves that had made a stop for rations. My first time riding in a steam tank. Commander's name? Kelar, I think it was. You've met him? What a small world! What's that? Well they dropped me off on the western edge of the Grizzly Hills, and I caught up with a brigade of Human knights making their way to an Alliance camp in Dragonblight. From there I took up the duty to make rounds on the southern coast. That's when we came upon the bunker. There was a whole lot of Scourge acivity on the surface, and then there was a huge battle. I got caught between the Scourge and our allies, and the Alliance had started to fall back. My only choice was to retreat into the bunker. I haven't made contact with the surface since. That was two days ago. I've been able to live on what little rations I have, but I was really curious as to where I was. Who? Fabrovus Marx? He works for the Lich King?

Serum 146?

---

So Guro'jintal explained. When he was finished, Iyana was visibly astounded.

"The world has changed, Guro'jintal," said Iyana. "Chemical warfare...and this Serum 146...it is an injustice upon Mother Earth!"

The Troll nodded. "Which is why we must destroy it. We should follow those Undead; they might be sending a prisoner to Marx for experimentation."

He softened, taking Iyana's hand and squeezing it gently. "We have much to catch up on. I promise to tell you everything when the time is right."

She nodded, then urged him on. The six figures stalked forward, following in the wake of the Undead and disappearing into the metal maze.

---

A blood-curdling scream washed over them as they were about to turn a corner. They threw themselves flat against the walls, unsure if something was going to leap out at them. But nothing came. Guro'jintal counted to five in his head, feeling his heart race along at double the rate. He gently brushed the sweat from his palms and then silently indicated that they should proceed. He peaked around the corner and stared down a long corridor that was lit by a pulsing red light. He gave the all clear, and slowly the inched into the walkway and crept forward. Another blast door was dimly outlined at the opposite end. Between them and the door was an unsettling sight. At first he thought it was gaps in the metal grating, but Guro'jintal realized the indentations were actually grooves made from someone scraping their fingernails. He peered closer and saw faint traces of blood, as well as chippings from where the nails had broken free. He stared up at the blast door, wondering what could be so terrible to draw such a desperate act from someone. And then another scream emanated from the thick metal. Only then did he realize how loud it must have been to have penetrated the walls.

"Does hell reside on the other side of that door?" asked Wotam.

Everyone remained silent. They didn't want to answer affirmatively, yet they were not convinced otherwise. They pressed their backs to the walls either side of the blast door, and then Guro'jintal nodded to Jakazul. The Troll pulled a set of beakers tied together, four in total. The fluid inside was a dull red. He carefully undid the knot, and then each was placed at a weak point in the door's frame. With a nod from Guro'jintal, each beaker was shattered. The liquid oozed over the metal, steaming. Iyana could smell the acidic compound of a familiar plant from Nordrassil. Silverleaf and Firebloom, mixed in a solution of Thunderlizard blood. The end result was a fluid that could eat through some of the toughest materials on Azeroth.

In seconds the blast door's fastenings were reduced to hollow metal. Alojin stepped in front of the door, eagerly waiting for Guro'jintal's word.

"Go."

With a bellow of fervor Alojin drove his weight into the door with his left foot, forcing the metal panel to topple inward. The Trolls and Iyana rushed in, zealous shouts booming from their chests.

And that's when they met Fabrovus Marx.