Redemption Begins
From EFWiki
the dwarf speaks, a scribe copying his words for those who are not present, so that all may hear the message and understand its meaning
A long time ago, the Flame was born. And in the merest speck of time it has existed have we carried its standard into battle. And within that speck, we have journeyed far... so far it feels like a lifetime.
sorrow fills his face
And some of that journey has been very lonely, indeed. It is nigh on a year since Thalos was lost to us, drawn by the pull of the Lich King. Unexpected, sudden, through some magic we have only recently come to understand. His connection to the spirits of the flames past sufficiently strong for him to be drawn to that evil lord through it, drawn by the hundreds of dead warriors now in his service. Warriors whose heart beats no more, but who once shed their blood and every ounce of their strength in service as we do.
he stands up straighter, and a fierce light fills his eyes You know that we cannot sit and wait for Thalos to return. He will not. You and I have known this since I journeyed there, and was almost slain - his own adopted kin. Only by virtue of the help of the mage Lokara, the wise Maelor and others within the Flame was I able to understand enough of the strange magic twisting his heart to survive. To take one moment to steal from him what we could not allow to exist - his connection to all of us. That day, we saved ourselves, but our work was not done. It will not be done, until as one we try and reclaim him. For the sake of the guild, for the sake of friendship... for the sake, perhaps, of Azeroth itself we must deny the Lich King one of his prizes.
This process has been long, but it is now upon us. Illidan is slain. We have, with great fortune, wrested from him the trinket of Tyrande, and may its power be held safe in our prophets hands. We must all now band together, and drive the Flame north - deep into the occupied lands of the Lich King, deep into his fortress, to Thalos himself and force our own magic upon that black connection and break it asunder.
the voice of the dwarf grows, taking on some of the characteristics of Thalos's great speeches, swelling with the spirit of the Flame in him
My friends... it is time for the final phase of our time. Here begins our time in lands of dark and ice and cold. Here begins the Ebon Redemption!
the dwarf stands with arms aloft, and gestures behind him. From the shadows, a figure walks, dressed in flowing dark midnight blue robes. Tossing back her hair, she nods slightly to those present, and then turns, with a flourish, cracking her staff to the floor. From the crack billows water and ice, which swiftly grows into a torrent that swirls and hardens over the barren wall of the guild hall, sweeping away all in its wake. At the center glows a small portal, which slowly widens, to show a barren snowfield, a rocky outcrop in the distance. With a small smile, she turns to the dwarf, who nods, and steps forward, his gun resting on his shoulder. He turns to the others, and nods slowly, assessing their strength, before turning back and vanishing through the portal.
