The Wreckage of LordaeronThe desolation spread as far as any eye could see, or as far as anyone could see with the thick haze of blight gas and smoke swallowing every horizon. Brill was razed, no citizen and no building spared by the Alliance. Lordaeron Keep itself was awash with glowing green toxic mist that refused to lift, the whole city above and below now uninhabitable to both living and undead alike. Between here and there, the broken, smoldering remains of siege towers, glaive throwers, shredders and demolishers, and other machines of war littered the landscape with the myriad bodies of the fallen.
Aranya had taken it all in before alighting on what was left of one of the zeppelin towers with her betrothed, Captain Halenver Bloodborne. It was so quiet now. Resoundingly quiet against the noise that stormed in her head for the last week.
“This…” nearly choked Aranya, standing next to Halenvar, staring at all the wreckage. “I have watched this kingdom change, for better and worse, a