The distant boom of thunder presaged the flash of lightning by a few seconds. Intermittent rain and gusts of wind made this place likely one of the most inhospitable islands in the world.
Sitting astride his blue Shado-pan tiger, Bladewisp the pandaren hunter sighed. “I hate this place.”
Mal, an orc warrior, laughed up ahead. “The Isle of Thunder is aptly named. But then, you hate everything anyway. What makes this so different?”
Bladewisp shrugged. “It’s as if the entire island knows we’re here and despises our presence.”
A pandaren monk named Zetsuen nodded his agreement. “The Thunder King awaits us. He knows we come for him.”
Jizal, a blood elf paladin, spurred his charger forward. “In that case, let’s not tarry any further. Time to knock on the Thunder King’s front door.”
At the entryway to the stronghold of the Thunder King, they all stopped and dismounted. The random lightning strikes made flight on this island an impossibility so they would have to take the rest of the way on foot. Horde spies had already informed them of the Zandalari trolls who had offered themselves up the Thunder King as servants and allies. After a few skirmishes with various Zandalari warriors, their elite Horde unit had learned to be cautious.
Just as they were about to open a massive door, it flew open with a bang and a body came flying out as if thrown. A massive dire troll stood in the center of a massive courtyard. “I be Jin’Rokh, known as the Breaker! The Thunder King give me power! Come! I show you!”
Mal and Jizal exchanged glances before drawing their weapons and shields. Mindmelt, a blood elf priest, muttered a hurried incantation that placed pulsing shields on both the warrior and the paladin. Avierra, another blood elf paladin, likewise cast quick spells of protection. Zetsuen sipped some tea.
Nonchalance, an undead mage, stared at the monk with wide eyes. “Tea? How could you drink tea at a time like this?”
Zetsuen smiled. “My lady, if you only knew what was in this tea, you’d drink some along with me.”
KD the undead rogue shot a glance at the mage. “Leave the monk be, sister. As long as he keeps us alive, he can drink whatever he damn well pleases.”
Cyanmyer the goblin warlock was the last to dismount. With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned one of his demons, a floating monstrosity with one eye and no arms or legs. “Let’s kick some troll butt.”
Bladewisp raised a paw. “Hold. We are going to need one of the reservists. Time to call up Tekk.”
Cyanmyer narrowed his eyes. “Another warlock? Pfft, we don’t need him.”
Mal and Jizal spoke together. “Call him up. Now.”
A little while later, Tekk the undead warlock was staring at the huge troll. “Oh my.”