"Night Elves!" Kaelen cried, raising his shield just as an arrow clattered against the crest of the lion.
In that moment, the Night Elf leader locked eyes with Valerius. The hatred didn't vanish, but it cooled into a grim realization. Kaelen felt the roots around his legs loosen. The stag-lord had released him.
"Steady," Captain Valerius whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of a glowing runeblade. "The Prince says the plague stems from these woods. We find the source, we end the rot." But the woods didn't feel sick; they felt angry . Games Warcraft 3
The sky turned a sickly shade of green. A rain of fire—Infernal meteors—slammed into the clearing, crushing Human and Elf alike. From the craters rose behemoths of burning green stone. The burning legion had arrived.
As Kaelen struggled, he saw Captain Valerius face the stag-lord. But before steel could meet wood, a third sound pierced the air. A wet, guttural shriek. "Night Elves
Suddenly, the shadows leaped. Not the shambling, necrotic husks of the Undead Scourge they had fought in Andorhal, but something lean and violet. Archers with eyes like silver moons materialized from the trees, their bows singing.
The fog of Ashenvale was thick, smelling of damp earth and ancient magic. For Kaelen, a footman of Lordaeron, it felt like a shroud. He adjusted his heavy steel spaulders, the metal cold against his neck, and looked toward his captain. Kaelen felt the roots around his legs loosen
For the first time in history, the lion of Lordaeron and the silver moon of Kalimdor stood together. They weren't fighting for land or glory anymore; they were fighting so that there would be a world left to bleed for.