It was a sunny morning in the woods of Eversong, and along the Dead Scar, the sounds of battle rang out. A young Blood Knight laughed as he cut his way through a horde of undead monstrosities with his blade and the Light. He paused, leaving the Scar and leaning against a tree after sheathing his blessed sword, then hooked his gauntlets on his belt and drank from his canteen. "Same time tomorrow, gents?" he called out.

"You do this every morning?"

He turned, smiling as he saw another of his order, this one a lady around his age with auburn hair. She was wearing a strapless green dress and heeled sandals. The lady smiled.

"If I can get away with it, yes. It wakes me up. My name's Kelandren Dawnblade."

"Any relation to Lord Varendian Dawnblade?"

"One would think I'd be related to my father," he laughed. "You must be Salandria, Liadrin's daughter. I've heard good things about you."

"Yes… that's me. Anyway, my mother sent me here for a reason. She wants us to go to the Twiligt Highlands. Apparently, some Old God cult is operating there. My friend Dornaa is joining us. She's a shaman… a Draenei, just so you know."

"I like the Draenei!" Kelandren smiled. "Their faith in the Light puts mine to shame!"

Salandria smiled again. "So what else do you do besides killing undead?"

"I'm a bit of a nationalist," he confessed. "My goal is to see Quel'thalas rise again. It's on its way, certainly, but it could be stronger."

"How so?" Salandria was certainly curious now!

"Well, I think our leadership needs to be more… how do I put this? I'm not saying Lor'themar is weak; he's not. But… don't you think we could build up a little more? Perhaps we could expand, or strengthen our forces… better yet, both."

"I stay out of politics," she replied, shrugging a delicate shoulder. "But I see what you're saying. I like a good party… sometimes I visit Sathriel. He has the best food! I was just there, in fact."

"That would explain the lovely outfit."

She giggled. "Thanks…"

"Shall we head back to Silvermoon?"

She nodded, blushing as he helped her onto his black, armored charger. As they rode back to civilization, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to keep her from falling as she rode sidesaddle in front of him. Her racing heart leapt into her throat as her stomach threatened to float away. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling. This could be a fun trip… despite the Old God crazies.