The howling wind bit at his neck, and the elder Druid pulled his cloak tighter about himself. The priestess at his side, they continued to press deeper into Icecrown, slaying undead after undead. While weaker, they still came in numbers, and someone had to put them down. They’d been at this for days, weeks. Ever since Deathwing had been slain, the Druid and Priestess had returned to Northrend, to continue to battle the forces up there, try and clean up the mess.
They weren’t even aware just how much time had passed, until one evening, resting in the Inn, the Druid received a personal summons. The young Druid of the Talon had flown all the way to Icecrown.
“Elder Cloudwaver, Priestess Rainwater... you’ve been asked to return home.”
“What more pressing matters are at home than cleaning this up, young one? Please, tell us.”
“It’s the Horde, Elder.. they’ve attacked. Theramore is gone.”
“Yes, Elder.. you.. should see for yourself.”
With a heavy heart, Ktar thought of his friends in Theramore. Those he’d encouraged to mete a life out over there, those in the Theramore Marines, whom he’d called friends during his tenure as Commander of the Dragoons. It seemed a surprise that Varian hadn’t summoned him, as a Knight.. but perhaps there was another reason. And in all of his time in Northrend, Ktar still hadn’t achieved his secondary objective. He’d asked around, but no one knew where his dear friend, Rethelia Fallowtide was.
“Thank you, young one. Tell our leaders we are on our way.”