"Are you sure he did, that we're talking about the same person?"
Grum'Thal's wide eyes dulled. Relief melted into a jolting, disgusted shock that travelled across the scars crisscrossing his towering frame. The demonic contamination flared in green waves for a split second, as if they would overpower Grash'Thul's suppression after so long.
Adam watched the great shaman tremble without hiding it. All this time, Grum'Thal cared for the child like his own, then the potential savior who would return home to cure him. Even if the child failed, Grum'Thal would have wanted him to live a long and happy life. Every father would. Adam knew it and therefore understood why the old orc clamped his chest painfully, his anger, despair, and guilt coming out with each of his scalding breaths.
