Katrina had experienced more than a fair share of combat and war in her young life. She had seen allies and enemies meet their end from being cut down, crushed, impaled, incinerated and other means of death. Hundreds of undeads, demons and members of the horde had received the final judgment by the paladin champion. Bones and skulls had been crushed. Armor and shields dented and destroyed. Soft flesh and sinews sliced and stabbed. Limbs and head cut off. Experiencing so much death at such close range had involuntarily taught her many things.<br/><br/>As the group came across the bodies strewn around the room, Katrina held a hand over her nose to dampen the nauseating smell of rotten flesh and guts. Her improved sense of smelling gave her more information about the stench in the air than she wanted. Thankfully, however, the cold environment within the cave had slowed down the rate of decomposition of the bodies. Meanwhile, Katrina experienced a strange feeling of deja'vu, as if she had experienced a scene far too similar as this one before. A small group traveling through a dark cave with a quest to stop a great evil within, coming across dead and mutilated bodies wearing deadly weapons and clad in ceremonial garments. This was very familiar to when she had gone through the tomb of Khaz'garath outside Darkshire.<br/><br/>Katrina walked slowly over the bodies, careful with where she was placing her feet, not wanting to actually step on any of the blood or gore. She was extra vigilant, just in case any of the bodies were not fully dead. She stopped right in the middle of the amass of carnage and kneel down a bit to examine the bloody weapons the stiff hands held on to, the ragged clothing, the multiple wounds covering the bodies. There was something strange about them. Were the fallen once members of the Horde and the Alliance? The two great factions should not have any business here in the storm peaks, for they were focusing their efforts to conquer Icecrown and bring an end to the Lich King's rule. The position and angles of the dead bodies, the frozen, twisted faces of agony told Katrina they had not simply been killed instantly. They had bled to death in a violent and messy manner.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">"This is odd. The bodies, they are similarly dressed and armed. Judging by their wounds, they were caused by the same weapons. It's as if they fought and killed each other."</span><br/><br/>Katrina grabbed a serrated dagger covered in dried blood and examining it closer. Holding the weapon before her face caused her to remember where she had seen such weapon before.; the cultists who had attacked and besieged Darkshire. The shocking realization was so great that Katrina dropped the weapon and clanged against the rocky ground. The cultists, they are still active and organized? Why are they here in Storm Peaks? Their god of murder had been defeated. His summon into Azeroth had failed and banished him back into the twisting nether. Many of the cult's greatest leaders had been killed. Then what were they trying to do now? Katrina believed the answers to her questions would be revealed soon enough.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>