Ironforge was a snowy, cold and desolate dwarven city in Dun Morogh. Tall trees surrounded the buildings and warm fires burned within. Mythilus dismounted her gryphon and handed it to the gryphon master. The journey to Ironforge had been long and rough, first through the seas of Azeroth and then through the skies of the Eastern Kingdoms. The first piece of news to reach the night elf's large ears was that there was rumoured to be a band of blood elves camping out nearby to spy on the Alliance's movements in the region. Being able to take a lot of hits meant that Mythilus was first in line to track down these blood elves and figure out a plan to get rid of them. Shadewell walked up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

'I've been asked to immediately attend to the wounded,' he said. 'This is where we part ways for now.'

'I'll miss you. Please be careful.' Her voice was soft with worry for her love. The two elves embraced and kissed, and Shadewell departed for the makeshift hospital in which lay the injured bodies of Alliance fighters. 'Mythilus!' a stern voice called. Myth turned, surprised to see her old and dear friend, the Draenei priest Katerynah behind her. The pretty woman broke into a smile and jogged over to hug her friend.

'It's great to see you,' said Kat, heavy with her foreign accent, 'but unfortunately catching up will have to wait. We have found the body of the last warrior we sent to deal with our blood elf situation. Looks like he was killed by magic, but you are to try and track them down next, regardless. I need to you to go now, so get ready and ship out!' She hugged Mythilus again and without waiting for a response, turned and jogged away. Mythilus sighed and checked her map. The supposed blood elf camp was not far from here, in the mountains near Anvilmar. Mythilus went to the stables and collected her newest mount, a giant purple lion with a flaming mane and wings who was, as yet, unnamed. She mounted and the lion spread his great wings, but did not fly. Mythilus did not know yet how to pilot flying animals and so their journey would be on foot. She turned the beast and they took off towards Anvilmar and the mountains beyond.

The sun had long since set. Mythilus and her lion walked silently through the mountainous region. A stone clicked against the groud and toppled down the path. Myth halted her lion and dismounted. She silently commanded him to return to the stables in Ironforge and when he had disappeared, continued on. The shining golden many and wings of her pet would alert anyone to her presence and she could not risk that. She felt someone watching her. The elf drew her sword and readied her spiked shield, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting enemy. A boot stepped onto hard ground behind and Mythilus spun arund just in time to block a greatsword from shattering her body. She pushed the sword away and went forward with her own towards the blood elf man who now attacked her. He blocked her strike with his sword and pushed her away. Mythilus went to hit again-

'Wait!'

She paused for a split second and recieved a blow that shot her backwards and knocked sword and shield flying from her hands. She scrambled back, away from the blood elf, but to her surprise, he dropped his own weapon. He was a retribution paladin, master of spell and sword. His fox-tailed hair glistened blue-black in the moonlight. He stepped towards her and Mythilus crawled back more, her long eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. The blood elf extended his hand to her. 'I don't want to fight..' he murmured. Mythilus accepted his hand and he pulled her to her feet. 'My name is Sarcyon,' he said.

'Mythilus,' she replied, suspicion fading quickly, her curiousity betraying the lessons she had been taught about the strange elves that served the Horde. 'You are an amazing creature...I've never seen anyone like you,' Sarcyon said. Mythilus pulled her hand away and cradled it as if injured. 'You are strange, indeed. How can an elf glow so pale?' Sarcyon reached for her hand again. 'I'm a blood elf,' he said

'Of course you're a blood elf!' replied Mythilus contemptuously, 'You serve the Horde!'

'Actually, I wish I didn't,' Sarcyon bowed his head shamefully 'For my heart needs to be listened to for a change.' Mythilus stared. How can a being brought up to be her opposite share her own morals? 'You look tired,' he continued 'I am the last of our troop, so you will be safe with me. Come,'

And against everything she believed, everything Shadewell had said about the blood elves, Mythilus followed