When Herad teleported to the edge of the Azurewing Whelplands, he happened to see a Blue Dragonkin warrior knock down a Withered.
The tall, burly Blue Dragonkin warrior, who had four legs and two arms, held down the Withered, who barely looked like a person, with a helpless expression.
Although Herad knew something about the condition of the Withered, those born to be workers,
when he saw them with his own eyes, their ghastly appearance still gave him a fright.
He had originally thought those driven mad by Arcane Addiction were simply skeletal Night Elves.
They were probably much like those delirious homeless people who filled their stomachs from restaurant garbage bins.
But actual Withered were not merely thin; their bodies had also degenerated considerably.
They had faded, pallid skin and faces like corpses.
This was a scrawny elven Zombie!
Even those repulsive, ugly Trolls looked more pleasing to the eye than they did.
A Troll without tusks, emaciated to the extreme, would look more or less like this.
However, the blue dragons of the Broken Isles still recognized them as a branch of elves.
Therefore, the Blue Dragonkin warrior merely held him down, preparing to throw him somewhere farther away.
Yet within a few days, this Withered would return.
This left the Blue Dragonkin warriors deeply frustrated.
If they were free to kill, the Blue Dragonkin could kick these ghostly, emaciated creatures to death.
But these creatures, neither human nor ghost, were nonetheless part of the Night Elves.
The Night Elves had fought valiantly in the War of the Ancients and rendered tremendous service to this world.
The Dragon Aspects could not bring themselves to kill those who had served so well.
They could neither kill nor cripple them, nor let them into the sacred grounds to plunder.
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