The next morning, we set off west to One Keg, on the trail of Elient and Evy’lin. Grummle territory, there were apparently whole valleys of Mogu tombs hidden within the high peaks nearby.
No one seemed happy. They kept asking if I was alright. I felt fine. Something must have happened after I went to sleep – perhaps a Sha attack? Regardless, it was of no concern.
Soon, we were scrabbling along the mountaintop trails. It was cold, but I did not feel it. The rush of the wind against my face, the brightness of the snow… I felt alive in a way that the heat of the Jade Forest or the bright sun of the Valley could not beat. It was all I could do not to leap off and fly.
It was vaguely weird. Soon, we were at the mouth of a large cave, clambering up to the valleys above. Once within, the air changed. The snow falling overhead reduced, and the sound of the wind in my ears halted. The wind, prevented from entering the valleys by steep mountain walls, screeched overhead in anger, its voice reaching us as low wails. The whole place seemed haunted – the perfect place for Mogu to build tombs.
Days prior, scouts had found imitation Mogu script. Upon an abandoned altar, we found more – and evidence of our old friends. Soon, we followed their trail into one of the nearby tombs.
It was… an easier trip than expected. Most of the traps had already been set off, and it was easy to capture them when they were weakened from the traps.
I did not mind either way. I just kept thinking back to the feel of the wind on my face.