Detonation - The rise of the Destroyer (work in progress)

Striding through the Halls of the Apothecarium, Felucia Black gumbles low in frustraion. She is clearly troubled with something. Perhaps the recent, failed strain of a deadly disease? No. Maybe the delay in the carefully planned Walking Bomb project? Not quite.

This is different.

Ever since Monday, the Undercity has been gradually collapsing. The blasted beings of earth refuse to leave the city alone, and their relentless attacks leave the Undercity in a gradually worsening state; paranoia spreads through the undead, chunks of rock and bricks falls from the ceiling. Two of her precious apothecaries have already fallen in the struggles. The magnificient storage is losing rare reagents with every tremble, and the laboratorium has already been on fire twice since the first tremble struck.

As a Grand Apothecary of this expansive organization, Felucia is worried, no, terrified of the situation. If the Undercity collapse, the Apothecarium will be obliterated, together with the Walking Bomb project, all of her and her collegues' work and the expensive test subjects.

"This has to stop" she muttered like an old hag. You would imagine that being undead would not sway one's mentallity dramatically in troublesome events, but the signs of both physical and emotional stress are visible on Felucia's stature: She walks slighty more bend over more than the usual, she fling insults at minions more frequently, and the size of her temper has been cut off by a ridiculous amount.

As per command, another tremble invades the struggling corridors of the Undercity. Dust and debris rain from the ceiling, vials and flasks are flung about and glass shatters all over the place. Felucia can do nothing but staring in shock as her work crumbles, slowly and painfully. A few, pain-stakingly long moments later, the rumble comes to an end, and all that is left is the newly messed-up Apothecarium and the sound of Forsaken calling for aid in the background.

"By the love of the Queen. Azeroth, you truly dislike me, do you not?" She sighs heavily. More commands to be shouted at the stunned Apothecaries. More work to do. Work, work. No rest for the danmed, she reminds herself, and forces a sadistic smile upon her lips.

She coughs up a few particles of dust, digs deep within her iron lungs and yells out loud at the poor apothecaries below. "What are you lying about for?! There is another mess to be cleaned up! Run a diagnosis on the storage room, check up on the chained minions and sweep the floors!" She grunts low in agreement with her words, spins around on her heels and marches off.