Tona's Shadow Protection

Rokhan raced through the nearly endless jungle of Stranglethorn Vale. Terrain so rugged and complex that human armies and other plains-dwelling races would find it hopeless felt like flat ground beneath his large feet.

Jungle Trolls were born for life in the jungle. To them, this terrain was like the grasslands to a horse, like the skies to a soaring eagle.

If not for this talent, Rokhan would have long since been caught by the enemies relentlessly pursuing him from behind and all around, then brutally killed.

Yet although the enemies called themselves Hakkari, they were Jungle Trolls as well. They possessed every talent and skill Rokhan had. He was somewhat better in this regard, but only somewhat—and there were more than seven of them!

Rokhan had been running for a long time. In the past, he would have shaken off enemies like these long ago. Yet today, these Hakkari scouts had somehow found him again several times after he had clearly left them far behind.

The young Darkspear Troll panted heavily. He was already exhausted, and he now understood why these Hakkari hounds had been so difficult to shake off.

Dodging around a massive peach-pear tree, Rokhan glanced at his bruised right fist. In his rage earlier, he had used that hand to smash the Blood God emblem, splashing it with a great deal of tree sap—or so he had thought. Now, however, it seemed that was not the case. Even if it was sap, it must have been specially processed.

Rokhan knew the Hakkari scouts were able to pursue him so relentlessly because of the bruised mark on his hand. He had tried to get rid of it, but no matter how he scrubbed, it would not come off. He had even risked washing it with water along