When I broke camp today I was still haunted by the events of yesterday. I decided to give myself a bit of a holiday and take it easy.
There was a fellow in Auberdine looking for mushrooms. Well that seemed like a pleasant way to idle away a day, picking mushrooms. When will I ever learn?
These mushrooms grow only in a single cave behind a towering waterfall. I found the path leading to the cave (and if you go, be wary…the banks of the river are steep indeed and if you jump in you’ll have to swim a good ways downstream before you can clamber out) and despaired. All along the path were corpses.
It turns out that these caves are inhabited by an amphibious race that are perhaps distant cousins of murlocs. These are bigger and more fierce, and have powerful magics, which I learned through direct experience. Well, travelling in ethereal form was relaxing, at the least. 🙂
When I got back into my skin, a stranger invited me to join forces with him. He was also a rogue of about the same level of training as I, and I discovered that a duo of rogues makes a mighty fighting unit. We Sliced and Diced, we Backstabbed, we Sapped and we Garotted and soon we’d made it to the back of the cave where a lone human dwelled, apparently unmolested by (and so no doubt in league with) the denizens of this foul place. I picked my last mushroom…one that only seems to grow way back in this deepest, dankest room. The fellow I was with seemed to need something off the corpse of the human; I did not ask why.
Now that it was time to leave, we were dismayed to find we’d been cut off by reinforcements. Too many, it turned out. We fled, but neither of us made it to the mouth of the cave. I was cut down with a glint of daylight in my eyes. So close…
After the spirit healer sent me out to recover the corporeal form, I decided spending an idle day in Darkshore means sitting in town wishing for a tavern so you have a mug or three. I’m about ready to return to the land of pretty serving wenches, warm fires, and foaming pints of ale.