The banner stood there, amidst the smoke and ruin. Tattered and torn like the allegiances sworn to wield it. Its once golden edges, nothing more then a dingy brown faded into red. The once mighty phoenix at its crest, now full of holes. But how? How could such a once mighty nation be torn asunder in what seemed like overnight? The leaders all but fled. Silvermoon left unguarded. Its people left without a home, scattered to the four winds. No outside army could have inflicted this damage. Nay, this was the destruction of a cancer, from the inside out. The High Triumvirate, seemingly defeated, their presence but a bittersweet memory. Betrayed by their own officers in a march of ego and self centeredness. It was a plan from the inside that was the undoing of this band of Elves from the north, and an effective plan it was. Carried out, it left nothing of a once powerful nation. All that remained were whispers, and unanswered questions. Fear and doubt swept over those that remained. All ran for higher ground. Except one. One lone Elf stood in the flames. Confused, lost…walking through the battle field, reaching into the rubble, there it was, dented and dinged but still as recognizable as ever. The helm of the High Lord. Its gold was tarnished and covered in soot.The once brilliant gems, now cracked and loose in their sockets. The elf wiped off what he could and marched forward. Looking to his surroundings for survivors…very few remained. Most in an act of cowardice ran to kneel to new lords, or took opportunity in the chaos to dub themselves lords. As the Elf marched forward, one elf became two, and word began to spread…more and more came to the side of the Elf. Some whispered in his ear to lay down the helm, to let the banner die. “there is no coming back from this” They proclaimed.
The elf and his band marched forward. Looking around him, the elf saw a piece of parchement pinned with a dagger to a pillon, on it read:
"To the Elves of the North: everything we did, we did to protect our people.
You may not understand why, but it was for the protection of the guild, which is the PEOPLE.
To those who betrayed us, you intended to kill us, but instead you awakened a different beast. The North Remembers.
To those who looked the other way and let the betrayers in, the North remembers.
To those captains who abandoned us when we needed you most, those who now claim to be the “guardians” of the city you betrayed, the North remembers.
You swore oaths with us, and I name you OATHBREAKERS.
Let it be known, enemies of Quel’thalas, there is no safe place for you in Azeroth, or beyond.
I swore a sacred oath to defend our people. I continue to honor that oath.
I am engaged in a higher form of warfare.
We will protect our people, and any threat against even one, is a threat against all.
Everything I do, I do to protect our people.
Selama Ashal’anore
-Ranger-General Aeythyr Skyborne"
Wiping the blood and sweat from one another, they found kinship in what remained. For the hardest swords are forged in the hottest of fires. One elf whispered, put on the helm. He couldn’t, this elf was no “Highlord.” At his highest rank in their military he was an officer at best. Too busy helping others to aspire any higher. He was more of a servant than anything. His goals had always been to see his people flourish. Never were the ambitions to lead an army, to become more then what he was, but that one whisper turned into more. So, it was done, as he placed the helm on his head, with a broken smile and tears in his eyes, he proclaimed “Go, tell them. The Highlord comes, and the North remembers.”
![:slight_smile:](https://d38bqls1q93fod.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/slight_smile.png?v=6" ":slight_smile:")
.