North Mountain Manor.
The moon shone bright among scattered stars, and Azeroth's twin moons bathed the forests of North Mountain in silver light.
The logging workers hurried back to town by moonlight. They had worked far too much overtime today, and everyone was exhausted.
"A female elf?" The short logger pointed at the female High Elf on the shaded forest path, his voice full of surprise and excitement.
High Elves rarely ventured into the northern Hillsbrad Foothills.
The burly foreman behind the short logger shoved him and snapped, "Stop dawdling. Get moving."
A High Elf appearing in this remote wilderness on a dark, windy night-who knew what she was here for?
The foreman kept a cool head. He knew that when out and about, it paid to keep a low profile. Most High Elves were mages. Annoy one of those lofty spellcasters, and a single Fireball could end your life.
That idiot Sok actually thought he had a chance with her. Wasn't he afraid she'd burn his dick off?
Sok ducked his head and hurried away with the others.
After the loggers left, the female elf strolled deeper into the woods.
"Mirror Image? Interesting."
Shing! Metal scraped, and two sharp crescent daggers appeared in her hands.
Holding Xal'atath, Blade of the Black Empire again after ten thousand years, Xal'atath felt a little nostalgic for her days in the Underground World.
The realm of the Old Gods was rich in energy and rife with danger. Compared with it, life on the surface was dull and tedious. Xal'atath always felt that something was missing.
Fortunately, she had met a very interesting human.
The Blade of the Black Empire pierced the illusory energy barrier. Arcane energy surged, and layers of fractured light and shadow appeared before Xal'atath.
Hum! An eerie purple glow spread