"Zuluhed is far too good at this. How can a Shaman run so fast?" Rowan stood beside Rhonin, frowning.
The young Archmage, usually all jokes and laughter, wore a grim expression. The horrors of Grim Batol remained vivid in his memory. Zuluhed had slipped away right under his nose time and again, dealing him a crushing blow.
That damned greenskin Shaman slithered between factions like an eel. There was no telling when he would suddenly pop up again to stir up trouble.
"It looks like the Zandalari Trolls behind the Iron Tide Pirates can't sit still anymore. That damned greenskin will definitely show up again. Remember to help me when he does. That bastard has to die." Rhonin flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles.
Rowan nodded slightly. "Of course. We made a promise."
"As long as you remember." Rhonin forced a smile onto his grim face.
The atmosphere and the tone of their conversation suddenly felt a little off. Rowan shivered, then gave a sheepish grin. "I'll go check how many cannons we have and prepare for the next round of fighting."
The battlefield in the waters outside King's Bay had been completely torn apart. Rowan's fleet had plunged into the chest of the Iron Tide Fleet like a sharp blade.
The Giant Rat had been blasted out of existence, and more than half the Rodent Fleet's warships had been sunk by the Iron Warships.
Eudora's Water Rat Fleet had suffered devastating losses.
The main battle was evenly matched, with the Combined Fleet and the Iron Tide Fleet under Jori's command fighting to a standstill.
But Rowan's warships would soon be free to act. The remaining Rodent Fleet could not compete with the Iron Tide Fleet at all.
Once the Iron Battleships joined the battle, the scales of victory would