Just as Damien and Isabelle were about to complete their first mission in the abyss together, the state of the outside world had become much worse
Especially the dwarf empire, as right now the the entrie mood of the whole race was at an all-time low.
The war room of Ironforge was carved directly into the heart of the mountain. The walls were black obsidian, veined with glowing magma that provided the only light.
At the head of the massive stone table sat King Durin.
The Dwarf King looked ten years older than he had a week ago. His beard was unbraided, and his eyes particularly sunken.
Around the table sat the rest of Damien's group: Alfred, Alaric, Lyra, and Hephaestus.
"Damn Human rats," King Durin rumbled, his voice echoing off the stone walls, ignoring the humans in front of him.
Fortunately, no one seemed to care, as his foul mood was not without reason
He waved his hand over the table. A complex array of mana crystals projected a 3D topographic map of the Continent.
