Muhammadah sat aloft Al’ar the Phoenix God arising through the minarets of Dalaran, which so reminded her of Terra’s ancient past beyond the times of ignorance, and arrived at her private apartment known as the Purple Parlor. Unlike so many times before in her peering over the towering spires of Dalaran, she could feel the Light resounding within Northrend. The campaign she participated in was succeeding against all odds, the shores of Northrend had been breached, the forces of the Lich King pushed back to Icecrown, Naxxramas and its foul Lich had been laid to waste, Ulduar was a hallowed hall of the Light of Creation, and the Champions of the Alliance and Horde competed in arms for the glory of who would slay the Lich King.
Stepping down from Al’ar the Phoenix God’s saddle, she stepped to the balcony of her apartment which overlooked the city that she had now called home. “Anar’alah”, she spoke to her Phoenix friend as his flame condensed to ashes and fell within a lamp like a Jinni that rested at Muhammadah’s belt alongside Val’anyr, Hammer of the Ancient Kings.
Turning she entered her parlor, sending away her attendants with subtle empathy as she psychically tasked them with other errand within Dalaran to arrange for the celebration of the redemption of Al’ar the Phoenix God whose ashes rested in the lamp upon her waist.
In solitude her power armor disassembled from her pristine female form, akin to an exoskeleton being shed. Her wraithbone Aeldari helmet, a trophy she won in the Trial of the Grand Crusader against Anub’arak, which unlocked precise and graceful mechanics revealing her face as the panels opened. She unbuckled the Pauldrons of the Combatant from her shoulders, she removed her Aegis gloves that silently purred with the Hyperspeed Accelerators ready and armed, her Plate Girdle of Righteousness unclasped from her waist, simultaneously the Breastplate of the Devoted’s seals that bound it to her chest opened humming as she inhaled and her chest expanded whilst her mail Legguards of Hatred shimmered down her legs. As she stepped her feet slipped out of her Boots of the Courageous with the Rockets at the heels primed, with her Bindings of Wintergale unclasping from her arms.
A Dark Shrouded figure, whose form was humanoid but an absence of Light with only a skull as a face, was collecting the items and constructed a lifeless golem that would await its inhabitant standing in the corner out of the armor. Val’anyr the Hammer of the Ancient Kings laid within the standing empty armor’s graps with the faces of the hammer sealed upon it waiting only to answer to its master.
Outside of her power armor, this Paladin stood in her bodyglove that interfaced with the circuits which resonated with the currents of the mana she controlled within the King’s Amber gems.
She walked to her desk and clothed herself in her blue and black robes, and put on hijab that would cover her head. Psychically she projected her image to be Quel’dorei - High Elven - Aeldari as it is known in other worlds and perhaps galaxies where there is only war.
Muhammadah looked to her sash that covered her waist, and almost magically there appeared again the Lamp of Al’ar.
“Time to bring you home” , she smiled as she psychically communicated to the fire of the Phoenix God at her waist, preparing to return to Quel’Thalas and announce the reclamation of Al’ar to the City of Silvermoon and the Kingdom of Quel’thalas.
She could already hear her kin chanting at the Sunwell…