Ah, Andorhal (4)

The guards who had tried to intervene saw that it was Karasha, someone held in high esteem in Southshore, and silently stayed where they were as the soldiers began cleaning up the mess.

The Night Elf Druid had restored life to Tarren Mill. In the eyes of ordinary people in Southshore, she now stood nearly as high as the priests of the Church of the Holy Light.

In the end, Remilia stepped in and won over the stubborn young elf, leading the angry Karasha away from the bloody, brutal promotion arena. No one could match her knack for cheering people up, just as a few words from her could leave someone ready to burst with frustration.

After arriving at Chillwind Camp, Remilia, Kindi, and Karasha were the three most at ease. No one had assigned them any tasks for the moment. Having had her fill of slaughtering Ghouls with spells at Sorrow Hill, Remi was already eager to wipe out the Undead in Andorhal and see a legendary Lich for herself.

Lelandis, commander of the Night Elf Sentinels, was seeing another branch of the elven race with her own eyes for the first time. Lunse Hawkspear and High Priest Aurora had joined the Scarlet Crusade. Even though they still bore the name of the Silvermoon Farstriders, their blood-red armor made their allegiance clear.

Like Lelandis, the High Elves before her did not know how to face their former kin. To gain Arcane power, their ancestors had given up immortality and migrated from Kalimdor to the distant Eastern Kingdoms, before the first human kingdom had even been founded.

Now the proud High Elves had been nearly destroyed by the Scourge and clung to survival under the threat of the Undead. The Night Elves, meanwhile, had stayed in their ancestral homeland, preserving