RAIN POV
Chains of Iron and Blood
I don't know how long we'd been walking. The chains dug into my wrists, cold and tight, but I refused to let these iron-skinned bastards see me wince. Every step felt like a curse, the metal clinking around my ankles as the Uldar dwarves dragged us deeper into their city.
Batista, was unconscious for most of it. Two of them carried him — not because one couldn't manage, but because he was too damn tall for their stubby arms to handle alone. It would've been funny if my head wasn't pounding and my ribs weren't bruised.
Their city was something out of a nightmare.
Black iron bridges crossed rivers of glowing metal, lighting the streets red and gold. Huge statues of dead kings stood over us, their faces cracked, with streams of molten tears. The air reeked of burnt metal and blood
