Trainees would line up in the cavern and wait for combat instructors to give them their orders. Typically the missions involved killing a small number of Troggs that still managed to infest the caverns, dealing with a handful of rock elementals summoned by Horde shamans, and finally facing a couple of special trainers and a couple of powerful demons the Orc warlocks would summoned for the encounter. Despite this knowledge, Dyer saw the last thing he expected to find.

At the entrance to the staging area Dyer and his teammates found the Orc guards and taskmaster lying face down in the dirt. They quickly rushed over and quickly determined that they were all dead. But Dyer knew that death was more often than not just a minor setback.

“Faultye, Kiade, can you resurrect them?” asked Dyer as he continued to examine their bodies.

“We’re on it, mon,” said Faultye as he and Kiade both started casting spells.

Dyer continued to study the bodies of the guards. None of their wounds were consistent with the type of damage they would get dealing with the rock elementals or Troggs. The wounds looked more like burn marks with seared flesh and scratches. In fact there was something very familiar about them but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Ugh,” said a large Orc picking himself up off the ground. “Where... where am I?”

“Commander Bagran,” said Dyer walking over to him. “It’s been a long time since I was here so you may not remember me. Garrosh sent us.”

“Daelin Bowstraider?” asked Bagran blinking. “Ah yes, but of course. But I am to call you Dyerwolf. The name you earned in here as I recall.”