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metallic movement gave any sign of their presence. They looked to be involved in an intense hunt&
Krasus came to the dread conclusion that they were looking for Rhonin and him.
One of the foremost riders reined his monstrous, saber-toothed mount to a halt, then raised his hand to
his face. A small flash of blue light briefly illuminated the area around him. In his gauntleted hand the rider
held a small crystal, which he focused on the dark landscape. After a moment, he cupped the artifact with
his other hand, dousing the light.
The use of the magical crystal only partly bothered Krasus. What little he had seen of the hunter s
scowling, violet countenance worried him far more.
Night elves& he whispered.
The rider wielding the crystal instantly looked Krasus s way.
They ve seen us! muttered Rhonin.
Cursing himself for a fool, Krasus pulled the wizard with him. Into the deeper woods! It is our only
hope!
A single shout echoed through the night& and then the woods filled with riders. Their fearsome yet agile
mounts leapt nimbly along, padded feet making no sound as the beasts moved. Like their masters, they
had gleaming, silver eyes that enabled them to see their quarry well despite the darkness. The panthers
roared lustily, eager to reach the prey.
Rhonin and Krasus slid down a hill and into a thicket. One rider raced past them, but another turned and
continued pursuit. Behind them, more than a dozen other riders spread out through the area, intending to
cut off their quarry.
The two reached the denser area, but the lead rider was nearly upon them. Turning about, Rhonin
shouted a single word.
A blinding ball of pure force struck the night elf square in the chest, sending him flying back off his steed
and into the trunk of a tree with a resounding crash.
The powerful assault only served to make the others more determined to catch them. Despite the harder
going, the riders pushed their mounts on. Krasus glanced to the east and saw that others had already
made their way around the duo.
Instinctively, he cast a spell of his own. Spoken in the language of pure magic, it should have created a
wall of flame that would have kept their pursuers at bay. Instead, small bonfires burst to life in random
locations, most of them useless as any defense. At best, they served only as momentary distractions to a
handful of the riders. Most of the night elves did not even pay them any mind.
Worse, Krasus doubled over in renewed pain and weakness.
Rhonin came to the rescue again. He repeated a weaker variation of the dragon mage s spell, but where
Krasus had received for his efforts lackluster results and physical agony, the human wizard garnered an
unexpected bounty. The woods before their pursuers exploded with hungry, robust flames, driving the
armored riders back in complete disarray.
Rhonin looked as startled at the results as the night elves, but managed to recover quicker. He came to
Krasus s side and helped the stricken mage retreat from the scene.
They will Krasus had to gasp for breath. They will find a path around soon! They know this place
well from the looks of it!
What did you call them?
They are night elves, Rhonin. You recall them?
Both dragon mage and human had spent their part in the war against the Burning Legion near or in
Dalaran, but tales had come from far off of the appearance of the night elves, the legendary race from
which Vereesa s kind was descended. The night elves had appeared when disaster had seemed imminent
and it was no understatement to say that the outcome might have been different if they had not joined the
defenders.
But if these are night elves, then aren t we allies?
You forget that we are not necessarily in the same time period. In fact, until their reappearance, it was
thought by even the dragons that their kind had become extinct after the end of Krasus became very
subdued, not at all certain he wanted to follow his thoughts to their logical conclusion.
Shouts erupted nearby. Three riders closed on them, curved swords raised. In the lead rode the one
who wielded the blue crystal. Rhonin s flames illuminated his face, the handsomeness typical of any elf
forever ruined by a severe scar running down the left side from near the eye to the lip.
Krasus tried to cast another spell, but it only served to send him to his knees. Rhonin guided him down,
then faced the attackers.
Rytonus Zerak! he shouted.
The branches nearest the night elves suddenly clustered, forming a weblike barrier. One rider became
tangled in them and slipped from his mount. A second reined his protesting panther to a halt behind the
one caught.
Their leader sliced through the branches as if cutting air, his blade leaving a streak of red lightning in its
deadly wake.
Rhonin! Krasus managed. Flee! Leave!
His former student had as little intention of obeying such a command as the dragon mage would have in
his place. Rhonin reached into his belt pouch and from it drew what first looked like a band of glowing
quicksilver. The quicksilver swiftly coalesced into a gleaming blade, a gift to Rhonin from an elven
commander at the end of the war.
In the light of the wizard s blade, the haughty expression of the night elves leader transformed into
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