You find Zhen Hu in the midst of the monastery among the wounded and dying. A stillness pierces the gentle murmur of groans and monks hurriedly chanting healing spells and attempting to help more wounded arriving. The acrid smell of burnt fur, blood, and smoke hangs in the air.
You find Zhen Hu in the midst of the remains of Stoneplow among the wounded and dying. A stillness pierces the gentle crackling of seared wood frames and smoldering fire. The acrid smell of burnt fur, blood, and smoke hangs in the air.
Zhen Hu, his face darkened with soot and blood, looks up at you almost from a dream. After a moment lost in thought, his expression becomes more firm, “Yes?”
“I-I have been sent from my master to bring you these.” You hand him the scrolls.
Zhen hesitates and looks at you, then the scrolls. He seems almost in disbelief. “You are giving me these?”
You nod, “Harmony is birthed with sacred trust – a Shado Pan saying, I believe.”
“We were at Stoneplow, rounding up suspects from an informant. That’s when the demons fell from the sky like hail. The others–they stood WITH us, not as Shado Pan and accused, but as Pandaren. They fought with honor – several of my men would not be alive if it weren’t for them. Remain here and help the monks. I must take this to Lord Zhu.”
Your expression of surprise is met with a comforting look, “Now you must trust me. You have brought the storm, now we bring the choice – perhaps we have overlooked something in our duty to protect Pandaria…”
Walking away Zhen says, “and each other.”