I stand in the enormous archway looking out over the Eastern Earthshrine, gazing at the moon high in the sky. It casts an ominous glow amongst the lake surrounding the small island. To the north, lies the last piece of Deathwing. A sign of the triumph over evil. My eyes have witnessed far to much of such evil. My name is Fayran Menethil, cousin to the late Arthas Menethil. I just finished a lengthy discussion with the King of this great city, and thought a little fresh air would do me well. I can't help but stop and think about the day this city was destroyed, and the King, then just a Prince, came to the city I resided in. It was a tragic day.

The sun beat down hard on my face, as I rode strongly to the small town of Brill. I had no reason to go today, but there was just something telling me something interesting was going to happen. My horse, Divine, pounded the dirt road leading to the town. It probably wasn't a good idea to leave the palace without informing my parents. With the busy days they have, I doubt they've noticed. My entrance into Brill startled most of the peasants. It's not everyday someone from the royal family would show up here. I dismounted in front of the statue of my uncle. A guard approached me, bowed, and proceeded to ask why I was here. I explained it wasn't a special occasion, just a small retreat from the capital. I hadn't been there for but a minute, when I heard a loud yell behind me, followed by a another. I whipped around to witness a fight breaking out amongst the townsfolk. It was extremely thrilling to watch the guards try to contain the scuffle. Nothing like this ever happened where I resided. The guards had their hands full, so I figured I could lend a hand. I proudly walked over to the scuffle, and simply yelled, "Enough!" The two ruffians looked up at me for a moment and immediately retreated. One of them stayed, and apologized for the terrible behavior in front of such royalty. It felt pretty good to have such a sway throughout the populous.

Suddenly, I heard my name being yelled from across the town's courtyard. I was surprised, and somewhat embarrassed, to see my altar boy running towards me. He reached me, panting, and muttered, "Excuse.. Me.. Sir.. But, you.. are wanted.. back at.. the.. palace. Something very.. tragic.. has happened.." He could barely speak, so I figured it was dire. I nodded, and remounted Divine, and began the ride back to Lordaeron Capital. Upon my arrival, I was approached by my cousin, Arthas. He told me my uncle wanted to speak to the two of us. He didn't know why. I walked through the intimidating hallways with Arthas headed towards the throne room. Not a word was spoken between the two of us. We were both very nervous of what was to be said. We quietly opened the doors to the throne room, to find Uncle Terenes and my father discussing something. My uncle quickly turned his head at us, turned his head back to my father, nodded, and motioned us over. He looked Arthas in the eyes, and then me. Something was terribly wrong. He spoke, "Arthas. Fayran. Stormwind.. Has been destroyed." Arthas and I both looked at each other and and gasped. "A force of demonic creatures marched threw the gates, and crumbled the great walls. Kind Llane.. was assassinated. " My head dropped. I didn't know what to think. It was such tragic news, so quickly. Then it hit me. King Llane had a son, about my age. "Varian, and the rest of the survivors, are headed towards the city to seek refuge. I ask that you and Fayran take Varian and treat him to the hospitality of the Lordaeron Capital. He will need someone to be there for him." Dark times were only to follow.