They never saw him coming.
Furnace Hollow roared with spellfire and steel, PvP flags flashing wild in the heated fog. Crimson Blades and Ebonreach Covenant clashed like warborn animals, all strategy forgotten in the heat of combat. Flashes of fireburst and barrier flare bathed the molten pillars in flickering light. It was the kind of chaos only a dungeon war could deliver.
Lava gurgled beneath cracked iron grates, and the ruined ceiling dripped molten slag in rhythmic pulses. Stone platforms shifted from accumulated damage. Each explosion caused vents to scream, coughing hot mist across the battlefield. A misstep near the edge meant falling into bubbling magma or being blown into a wall of flame.
Fifty players left from the original 60. All eyes on each other. None on the ledge above.
