Spoiler:
He had been eyeing their movements for days, keeping vigil over in the skies. They had committed atrocities before in the name of their so called... honour.
But this? This was something that could not possibly have been called noble. A small group of Kaldorei gathered outside of Astranaar, solemnly paying their respects to those who had been lost in the war for Ashenvale. With their heads bowed in reverence, they opened their ears wide for the words of the Priestesses. So moving were their words that they did not see the danger that was looming overheard. With no remorse, the Horde came and unleashed explosives upon the cemetery, obliterating the graves of fallen soldiers and invoking a rage in the Kaldorei.
When the battle was over and Horde blood stained the soil, they had no idea of what was happening on the other side of the river. Astrannar and been hit, and it was hit hard. They returned to see commoners rushing to douse the flames of war that was incinerating their home. Sentinels lay dead and war machines were in ruins.
Eirtahl stared over at a deceased Orc soldier, slowly kneeling down. After a brief second, a raven came and perched on his hand. The Druid lowered the avian creature and allowed it's tail to become soaked in blood before letting it fly away.
Every Orc who fought this day and lived shall have a feather dipped in their blood. A crimson flock shall scour the woods in search of every usurper of our homeland, and then the Horde shall know that this is no longer their domain.
A crimson flock shall fly tonight...
"I am more afraid of one hundred sheep led by a lion than one hundred lions led by a sheep."