A weird tingling sensation still coursed through his fel-infused body when Qharim stepped through the gate with his squad. Seemingly out of thin air, a clone of himself manifested and Commander Awatu's towering shield smashed hard into it naught of hesitation. "I better not offend that one." he thought to himself.
His warglaives barely did any damage to the towering being they call MOTHER and nothing in Uldir seemed like they belonged to the world he came from. One couldn't have imagined that some day after fending off the Legion, the Illidari would be dodging laser beams coming at him from walls of gold. The technology was nothing of the goblins and gnomes, but yet many of The Grim were unfazed, especially Riplie - his squad's leader. She even seemed to enjoy it.
Many battles went by in a blur, including one with a monstrous three-headed chimera. And before he knew it, they were before a room which smelled entirely of blood, so much that it overpowered all his other senses. Khelendra the monk mumbled another something about a Master Chiu and hesitantly conjured a gigantic cauldron of alcohol and insisted he drank of it. He did, and felt power welling up within him; but that was also the last Qharim remembered anything that night, or the next, or the day after...
Trial of Combat: Qharim
Re: Trial of Combat: Qharim
Qabian wrote the word "Good" in the margin of the page and pinned the report to a piece of wood. Later, the mage carried the piece of wood with him as he explored the cave network in Alterac, searching for a decent place to put it up.
"While our enemies remain, peace is not victory." ~Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner