Darnassus, the sprawling tree-city of the Night Elves, has always been a place of peace and tranquillity. As an adventurer, its serene streets and warm inhabitants have often been a balm to your weary soul. Yet, today, as you step through the portal into the city, your gut twists in foreboding.
The usually welcoming Kaldorei guards circle you, their gleaming glaives pointed threateningly at your chest. "You are under arrest on suspicion of subterfuge," the captain announces, his voice stern.
Your protests fall on deaf ears as the guards snap shackles around your wrists and lead you away. A prison cell is the last place you imagined seeing in the verdant city of Darnassus. As the sun dips below the horizon, the chill of the cell seeps into your bones, your pleas for justice echoing in the silent city.
As the moonlight begins to filter in, she arrives, High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. Her silver hair glows ethereally in the moonlight, her presence imposing and majestic. She takes a seat before your cell, her emerald eyes meeting your bewildered ones.
"I do not recognize you, stranger," she comments, her voice echoing in the cold cell.
"I am no enemy, Tyrande," you assure her, but she seems unaffected by your assertion.
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