Ah, the Wailing Caverns! Those damp caves I’ve wandered through countless times; the fierce, aggressive raptors; the hidden serpent blooms nestled in rock crevices; the white crocolisks; the druids; the … well, you know, the Wailing Caverns!
I had to venture in there several times, completing various quests my “clients” couldn’t be bothered to handle themselves… One of them involved snagging gems from the still-warm corpses of druids who’d gone astray. I’d already gathered a few gems on previous journeys into these caves with brave adventurers, and only one more was needed to put an end to this unnatural heresy. So once again, I descended into the oppressive humidity of the caverns, this time with a small group. After slicing up a few raptors, decapitating some serpents, and dismembering a couple of druids, the initial group diminished somewhat after the departure of some members, weary of the constant battles. In the end, only two of us remained to press on through the winding tunnels. I was fairly worn out myself, but my companion (whose name I’ve unfortunately forgotten), well-versed in these caves, offered to guide me to the last druid. Following a series of winding paths and killing the occasional straggler, we emerged atop a sloping corridor on a promontory overlooking one of the caverns. A short distance away, across the cave, lay the entrance to another tunnel. Between the two was a platform atop a pillar. My teammate explained that we needed to get across by first jumping onto the platform. Though skeptical, I watched him take a running start and, with surprising agility for a tauren, leap across the cave in two quick bounds. If a lumbering bovine could manage such a feat, it would be child’s play for a troll like me! So I gathered my courage in one hand and my bow in the other (uh … yeah, let’s go with that), and I took a leap, landing… 6 metres below, after a failed attempt to grab the central pillar. Undeterred, I retraced my steps back to the promontory for a second attempt. Then a third. By the fifth try, I finally managed to land on the platform under my companion’s encouragement, but, carried by my own momentum, I tumbled down into the lower cave again. At that point, I think I would’ve been covered in bruises if my troll skin weren’t already that colour! I began to lose heart, but my companion’s insistence that we reach the last druid before more enemies respawned kept me from giving up. I summoned all my focus when I reached the promontory again. And this time, not only did I manage to fall another 6 metres, but I also got myself stuck at the base of the central pillar. I spun around in every direction, trying to leap out, but I couldn’t break free; all around me, I heard the tauren’s weary encouragement, the worried cries of my ostrich, and felt the puzzled gaze of a nearby thunder serpent. After much struggle, I managed to free myself, and after a few more attempts, I finally reached the other tunnel. We continued onward, only to realise soon enough that it was the wrong path, leading to a room we’d already cleared. Resisting the overwhelming urge to throttle my companion—I don’t even know if both my hands could wrap around that bull neck—I continued to follow his hesitant lead down several paths until we finally found the elusive druid. I don’t even recall if we succeeded in taking him down this time; I only remember waking up two days later at the Crossroads inn…
So, my friend, I’ve recounted this tale in its full honesty, even if it’s not exactly glorious for either myself or my companion, but if you can take away one lesson, I’ll be glad: before you embark on the winding paths of an unknown quest, be certain of your guide!
