It took them a week to reach what Khadgar said were called the Swamp of Sorrows. They could have moved more quickly but Turalyon had cautioned his soldiers not to overtake the orcs yet. They needed to know the location of that portal first. Then they could strike. Lothar’s death had shocked everyone, but it had also galvanized them. Men who had been weary were now focused, hard, and resolute. They had all taken the loss of their commander personally, and seemed determined to avenge his death. And they all accepted Turalyon as his chosen successor, especially those who had followed him to Quel’Thalas and back. Slogging through the marshes was difficult and unpleasant,Khadgar looked at Lothar, trying to read the furrows of the older man’s face. Was this old warrior worried about his friend, or worried about the loss of a magical protection? Was his concern about Medivh’s safety, out in wow gold the middle of the wilderness, or that something was stalking them all? The older man’s face seemed like a mask, and his deep sea-blue eyes gave no clue as to what Lothar was truly thinking. Khadgar had expected a simple swordsman, a knight devoted to duty, but the King’s Champion was more than this. He was wow gold pushing Khadgar, looking for weakness, looking for information, but to what end? I need someone to guard the Guardian,Medivh had said. “He is fine,” said Khadgar. “You are worried about him, and I share your concerns. But he is doing well, and I doubt anything or anyone can truly hurt him.” Lothar’s unfathomable wow gold eyes seemed to deflate for a moment, but only a flickering moment. He was going to say something else, to renew the prying, friendly inquisition, but a commotion within the tower drew both their attention away from the discussion, away from the now-empty mugs and the bare bones of the fowl. Medivh swaggered into view, followed by a crew of servants and guardsmen. All complained about his presence, but none wow gold would (wisely) place a hand on him, and as a result followed him like a living, mewling comet’s tale. The older mage strode out onto the parapet. “I thought you a creature of habit, Lothar,” said Medivh. “I knew you’d be out here taking afternoon tea!” The Magus beamed a warm smile, but Khadgar saw there was a slight, almost drunken sway to his walk. Medivh kept one arm behind him, concealing something. Lothar rose, concern zxckangshifu in his voice. “Medivh are you all right? The demon…” “Ah, yes, the demon,” said Medivh wow gold brightly and pulled his bloodied prize out from behind his back. He lobbed it at Lothar and Khadgar in a lazy, underhanded swing. The red orb spun as it flew, spilling the last bits of blood and brains out before landing at Lothar’s feet. It was a demon’s skull, the wow gold flesh still adhered to it, with a mighty divot, like that of a great ax, driven into the center, right between the ramlike horns. The demon’s expression, Khadgar thought, was one of both awe and indignation. but other than muttering a little no one complained. Their scouts kept the orcs in sight and then reported back, allowing the Alliance troops to move at a slow pace and still not worry about losing their quarry. The Horde remnant was in general disarray, all the orcs heading the same direction but not marching together, simply jogging or walking at their own paces and with a handful of companions amid the larger group. Turalyon just hoped that remained the case. He assumed the Horde leader, that Doomhammer, had left troops and a lieutenant in charge of the portal itself. If that leader was strong enough he could fuse the defeated orcs back into a solid fighting force, along with whatever warriors he had with him already. Turalyon warned his lieutenants to keep the men alert and not let them get complacent. Assuming this would be an easy fight could get them all killed. They spent another week in the swamps before finally reaching an area called the Black Morass. But here even Khadgar was in for a surprise.

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