You know, some people, when they get iseki'd into Azeroth manage to get something awe inspiring or impressive. Or at the very least are able to blend in with not many issues over all. As it is, despite being in reborn in the Eversong Woods, I was not an elf, and thankfully not a Troll either. Well, the later is kinda debatable, as for some reason or another? I was born knowing I was a loa. Which was... weird. At the same time, I was also little more than a wisp of mostly light and fire aligned energy. Not the worst sort of set up, and I even had an idea of what kind of 'blessings' I could give.
Mostly, as from the feel, yeah, I had mana, but due to my pick I also had Holy Power, being one of the few loa with light aligned abilities... and some fire ones, as I was seemingly born from a fragment of the Sunwell's rays as they passed though a summoning focus. I also had a small pool of energy that could go into blessings... that did not need to regenerate on its own, instead requiring faith and worship to replenish and grow.
Still, first thing to check on when being dropped into the golden home of the elves... check and see if there was an orc or undead army advancing on the city. As it is, a lot can be inferred from that, or if there was a gapping wound of festering darkness in the land. Then again, OI could feel the Sunwell, so it probably had not been destroyed and remade yet. Hopefully. There was more that I could do with the prep-time in the lead up to the third war than after it gets used as a summoning portal.
As things stood, I was going to do something traditional for spirits of the light, as I sought out a particularly lonely and isolated looking child, and swooped down, settling on their shoulder. "Hey kid, want to make a deal to smite the unclean and impure with holy fire?"
Shazia
To be entirely honest, she was not sure her mother would have approved of her making a deal with an unknown spirit, no matter how bright and warm it was. Then again, her mother had been carried off to be eaten and raped by trolls, father having been killed trying to save her.
She was not from a rich or powerful family, even as her aunt made it clear that she was taking over the farm and that while she could live there, it would never be hers. So, she wept and was lost when the flame came to her, when it whispered promises of retribution and cleansing flame. Of learning together, even as they worked to make the woods safe, to prevent what had happened to her from happening to others. It was a glorious dream, and one that she embraced. It was also, curiously, that involved a bit more than learning how to just throw fireballs.
She learned that as well of course... but there had been other lessons. Practical ones as she gathered the orphans, as she shared the spark, as they hunted gnoll and spider and troll, as they forged their own arms and armor imbued with warmth and power. As they shattered idols and consigned monsters to the flame, they found runes of power in the ashes, and so they rejoiced, continuing on their path of retribution. Sometimes, the Far Striders seemed to disapprove, wanted to leash them as the distant and uncaring magisters demanded.
But neither she nor her followers cared, as they visited the homes of their soft and untested kin less and less with the passing of years. They would not understand, even as the Ashen Crusade continued, as they were protected and kept from the worst of what the monsters had to offer. In truth, she could admit that they were... different. They wore their armor as if it was their real skins, the fires of their faith all they needed to keep themselves warm. They laughed, they loved, they trained and fought in small bands and squads, mourning their fallen and giving thanks when there were no new orphans to join their ranks in a year.
And so it come to pass, that they spotted the approaching Orcish Horde while encamped in the mountains bordering Lordaeron in preparation for a strike on Zul'Mashar, largely as it was a tributary state to Zul'Aman, and they would strike against their hated foes in any way that they could. Heeding the advice of their guiding spirit, the youngest of their number was dispatched as a runner to warn the elven villages of what was coming, while the rest of the crusade aimed to buy them time to prepare.
Tales of the Second War
For the most part, the Burning of Quel'Thalas was also the siege of Silvermoon City, particularly in the minds of the elves. Driven from the majority of their villages and towns and into the most powerfully defended magical fortress known at the time, it was ultimately a choice to see the woods burn rather than the elves. The villages after all, could always be rebuilt afterwards. Only a few settlements outside managed to weather the storm of orcs and dragon fire, but it was also in these days that The Ashen Crusade gained wider fame and notoriety.
Formerly, they were suppressed as radicals and near renegades who did not slot into the affairs of the elves golden kingdom, a rag tag collection of orphans who managed to piece together enough spell work, one way or another, to make them a simple, if mildly destabilizing force in politics... if they were not content to be vagabonds living in wilderness camps and dedicated to an eternal war against the trolls. Brutal, ferocious and unrelenting, they had adopted the five man bands used by adventurers for a base level of organization, the crusades leadership being formed from the leaders of these smaller bands.
Already engaged in hit and run attacks against the trolls, the Orcish Horde under Doomhammer had to contend with what they saw to be an elven version of the Burning Blade clan joining in on the Far Striders ambushes and raids. Explosions of fire and light that signaled the arrival of heavily armed and armored crusaders that ravaged their supply lines and seemed to take particular offence at the Stormreaver and Twilights Hammer clans. Some speculate that as the elves seemed to be willing to rid him of Gul'dan, Doomhammer did not try to seriously bring them to battle.
By the time of the Horde Retreat, it is estimated that they killed five thousand orcs and twelve thousand trolls. Unwilling to spill the blood of their fellow elves, relations between Quel'Thalas and its army of orphans soured in the aftermath of Zul'jin's capture and escape, instead of his swift death.
Two bands were present for the battle of Blackwood, even as the majority of the Ashen bands focused on resuming their assaults on Zul'Aman and its tributary states. Unconcerned with the elves withdrawing from the Alliance, they continued their campaign against the trolls, wherever they happened to be.
This state of affairs would last until the Third War, as they mobilized against the Scourge.