"Seventyeight one-thousand.. Seventy nine one-thousand.. Eight-"
Mouthingthe words with vile disdain, Kaiaer's stomach lurched defiantly inresponse to his surroundings. Bubbling rivers of foul dischargeoozed below the bridge he claimed, yielding an unnatural green aurainto the darkened atmosphere of the Apothecarium Quarter. A myriadof colors danced upon the decaying walls and tapestries which adornedthe chambers, only adding to the somewhat picturesque scene.Somewhat. To this Rogue's scorn however, the stench this plaguedriver carried along it's continuous plight throughout the sewers, wasenough to suffocate anyone who was not properly prepared for such anoder. Or had the capability of smelling it, anyway.
Needlessto say, the Blood Elf was not among those fortunate enough to by-passthe fumes in their entirety.
Releasingyet more of his stomach's contents into the muck below, he collapsedonce more onto the bridge's rail and started the counting game again.This was Kaiaer's self-mandatory introduction to Silvermoon's linkedneighboring city. Upon originally entering the confines of thefallen kingdom, the scent of death and decay was overwhelming, yettolerable from the outside. Assuming that the nausea would come topass, not to mention the Undead Banshee Queen awaited the news hecarried with him, Kaiaer descended further down into Undercity'ssunken layers, stoically.
Hebarely made it past the bank before vomiting.
Now,an hour or so later, he counted in sheer twisted amusement how longit'd take before the wretched odor got to him again. Further still,he was curious as to how many times he'd spew chunks before runningout of stomach fluid to throw up. His mid-day meal had already cometo pass.. So the assumption that it'd be fairly soon wasn't too farof an off-guess. Ah! The glories of Undercity in all it's grandeur,Kaiaer mused. Were it not for the rivers of infestation, the ruinsof Lordaeron would have been rather enjoyable... Perhaps.
Understandingthat time was dire and not affordable, our fallen-hero slowly hoistedhimself off the rail in a slow attempt to continue his mission. LadySylvanas would not be pleased with his ongoing delay. Playing therole as a diplomatic agent, his tardiness would not presentSilvermoon well with the news he bore.
Stilloverwhelmed with the nausea, the Blood Elf regained some stamina tokeep his stomach at rest. Grinning to himself at this feat, hemeandered to the Royal Quarters with regaining self-assurance.Braced and sure he found his grasp on the 'wondrous' smells ofUndercity, fears of spilling his insides before Lady Sylvanas seemedto vanish in their entirity.
Thatwas, until, that damned Abomination patrolled on by...
...
“Oneone-thousand... Two one-thousand...”