Ouroboros Bladesong sat in front of the campfire before him - or, rather, he was a single figure amid the circle gathered around it - yet, only he still remained sitting, for the rest of the men had drifted off to sleep. He eyed the flickering flames with mistrust; for somewhere, deep within those golden-lit eyes of his, the flame of fear also burned.

As one of the Kaldorei, the esteemed protectors of the great Well of Eternity, his had been a place of comfort and superiority. Drawing from the power of their precious Well, the Night Elven race had been allowed to grow fat from their absolute authority over Kalimdor; as a result their egos swelled to match their society. Pampered and vain like the rest of his society, Ouroboros complacent in his life-style of overzealous guard officer chasing down crime wherever the Elven swordsman saw it. He, just any other Kaldorei guard, was trained to punish the coward.

Thus, when the Burning Legion invaded Kalimdor through the Night Elves glorified Well of Eternity, they were ill-prepared to face such a demonic host. Their hateful, burning evil left nothing in its wake, and a path of destruction lit the land aflame wherever they touched.

Brought together through strife and devastation, the Kaldorei banded together in a desperate drive to stay alive; a great Elven army formed to push back against the Legion invaders. Their continued success against the Burning Legion in the field eventually spread through all corners of Kalimdor, and the Elven army amassed into a single coalition with one goal: save Azeroth from total destruction. During those final days of that war against the vile demons of the Burning Legion, it seemed that victory would be utterly assured.

Still, as if the Elves of the night didn't have reason to disdain light already, fire now held a new meaning for the Kaldorei people; for it's often difficult to erase the horror of seeing one's ancestral home burn into ash. Ouroboros Bladesong wasn't entirely sure how he managed to survive until now himself, not when so many of those he once knew had already perished.

Staring at the tongues of flame licking at the cool night air, the Elven swordsman couldn't take his mind off the legions of demon hordes that the coalition's host had gone to battle against. There were so many moments where he could have sword death would come for him, but always fate showed that it had other plans in store for the Elf warrior. He'd always notice some flaw in how the enemy stood or charged, an ally would come to his side, or, it was simply that an archer would release an arrow at just the right time. Thus far, he told himself that luck had been on his side.

However, he knew that luck doesn't last forever, and dreaded every upcoming foray into the demon tainted lands, such as the operation he now faced.

With the main body of the host moving forward in a charge against the Burning Legion's primary force, Ouroboros was lucky enough to have been grouped with a squad meant to stay behind the Elven Offensive. As of late, the swordsman and the soldiers he accompanied were assigned to camps skirting the edges of the lands retaken by the host, serving as a border of safety for refugees, and a barrier of death for the enemy. Yet, just earlier that morning, Ouroboros' lieutenant told his squad that a raven had been sent with orders for them to push into the city of Suramar, and begin reclaiming it for the Kaldorei people.

The men would have been more enthusiastic about fighting to save their homes, if not for the green haze which settled over all that the Burning Legion touched. A green haze which now shrouded Suramar and hid it behind foul mist. The men were unnerved about making a patrol through such an eerie place, and they even recalled hearing word that the human mage Rhonin had discovered a coven of warlocks working to raise the dead. He stopped the foul sorcerers from completing their work, but what if some had managed to survive?

The Elven swordsman sat shaking his head, and the lieutenant, walking by to make sure the men under his command were resting peacefully, stopped to make sure Ouroboros was holding up.

"Sword Bladesong, is there a reason you do not sleep yet?" He asked. "We'll all need to be at our sharpest tomorrow, and that would prove easier with a good nights rest."

Ouroboros smirked humorlessly. "I guess old habits die hard, Lieutenant Eldre'thor; I still prefer sleeping during the day, sometimes it's just harder than usual."

"You're worried about going into the mist tomorrow, aren't you?"

The Elven swordsman nodded his head. "I guess that could also be what's keeping me up.

Eldre'thor walked back over toward Ouroboros, and crouched down once he was at the man's side. "Anything in particular that's troubling you about it?"

"Well, I can't help but worry about going into Suramar after hearing of tales of undead in the city; still, I do trust the report from master Rhonin that the warlock presence responsible for it was dispersed." He sighed. "I guess I'm just nervous about walking into some place where I don't even know if I'll be able to see the man at my side."

Hiding the smile on his face, Bladesong's lieutenant placed a mailed hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "I can understand that concern, it'll be a different sort of battlefield should things take a turn for the worst, but you do need to bear something in mind son… We Elves don't sound a thing like any of those demons, so if you take a swing at one of us you may want to get your ears checked." Eldre'thor Featherfall assured the man under his command. "Besides, I've heard from some of the other companies that have been through there that the fog isn't so bad. We'll be fine should we stick together Ouroboros."

The lieutenant then stood up to walk back over his tent, stopping only for one more moment. "Now, I'd get to rest a lot more easily knowing that all my men were sleeping fitfully, so I hope you don't take too much longer."

Ouroboros listened to the armored footsteps of his lieutenant fade over the crackle of the flames. He shook his head realizing that Eldre'thor was right - they had their orders, and nothing he did or thought of was going to change that - so he lied down for sleep, closed his eyes, and passed the time until he and his squad mates would set out.