Gordawg nodded. The elements naturally had their own ways of communicating, and he already knew of Thrall's request.
"Gordawg wants to help, but the other world is too far away. I cannot help you with a land I do not know."
Thrall was not surprised. The other Elemental Furies had been unable to help for the same reason: it was not their world, and they knew nothing of Azeroth.
An idea suddenly occurred to him. "Gordawg, there is a portal between Azeroth and what remains of Draenor. It was once closed to keep Draenor's destruction from affecting my world. Now, unless I can stop it, Azeroth's sickness will spread through it to your world as well. Is there truly nothing you can do to help me? Helping me might mean protecting Outland."
Gordawg listened to Thrall's account. "Gordawg understands the need, but Gordawg must repeat: Gordawg knows something of this world, but for an unfamiliar world, Gordawg cannot give an accurate..." The enormous being slowly knelt, scooped up a handful of soil, and stuffed it into his mouth under Thrall's astonished gaze. "By tasting it, I can learn where this soil came from and the secrets it holds."
Thrall's eyes widened as an idea suddenly struck him. Could it really be that simple?
As a shaman of the highest order, Thrall always carried a small portable altar with him: a feather to represent air, a small cup to represent water, flint and tinder to represent fire...
...and a small stone to represent earth. Now his trembling fingers searched through his Magic Bag, hope and fear mingling in his heart. At last, Thrall withdrew his hand, the little stone resting in his palm.
This was a small piece of an element from Azeroth. The other things-the flint and tinder, the cup,