The frozen winds of Northrend were blew mournfully. All around the barren landscape was littered with the corpses of long forgotten creatures and the wind seemingly voiced their cry. The Alliance had made camp on the beach; much like Arthas did, so many years ago. The burned out husks of his ships still lay in the water, almost immortal watchers. Ewane looked over the landscape as the soldiers he had come with prepared the camp. The Light shall never fade.