The sky over Silverpine Forest grew ever darker. The Burning Legion had massed more than two hundred thousand demons along the border of Ferry Town, and war could break out at any moment.
Bridget had been unable to sleep the night before. At the departure ceremony, she had watched General Gavinrad's body turn into Holy Light, her heart a tangle of emotions.
Fear, helplessness, worry, and anger mingled together, as though dragging her into an endless night.
Bridget rose very early, even though she was not on watch that day.
Everything was as usual. Wearing simple armor with her hair tied in a neat ponytail, Bridget washed her paladin plate armor.
Unlike the rough men among the other paladins, Bridget always looked bright and immaculate.
She was a paladin, but she was also a young woman who loved looking her best.
A rapid clatter of hoofbeats rang out. Bridget looked up nervously, thinking a messenger had arrived and war was about to begin.
Three brown warhorses carried two young men and an archmage with an ethereal body. Bridget gave the unfamiliar party little thought and continued washing her golden breastplate.
Suddenly, a familiar figure flashed through Bridget's mind.
Wasn't that young man in a pale green robe and military cap Rowan, the leader of Kul Tiras?
What was he doing here?
Bridget set down her bristle brush and hurriedly stowed her half-washed, still bloodstained plate armor in her Magical Package.
I'm going over there. I'll demand an explanation from Rowan.
That was what Bridget thought. Although she did not know what explanation she wanted, she simply wanted to vent the resentment in her heart on the leader of Kul Tiras.
It was as though the decline of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and the loss of half the Order of the