Grab your sword* and fight the Horde !
*Magic, healing, and other means to in some way to harm or dismantle the Horde are also accepted.
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They said sorry so here’s my legally obligated 1x bump 
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We apologise for nothing!
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'Mon then.
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Neither does the Horde
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Hm, what’s that ? I can’t hear traitors. 
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Feathermoon has been graced with the Dirge’s presence for a couple of days, but it will not be long-lasting.
While the Horde still exists, there can be no peace…
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The Dirge of Teldrassil are preparing for more fighting against the Loyalists, and others, who still have not answered for their crimes! We’re currently either in the Exodar, or in Feathermoon, so if you’re interested in joining or want to know more, stop by and say hello!
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I met these folks in Zangarmarsh and they didn’t kill me. Which was appreciated.
JOIN THEM YOU NELVES AND WORGEN
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Vengeful Elves and Worgen ? If you want justice for teldrassil, u should join the dirge !
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After some rest at Feathermoon, the Dirge are mustering once again! This time heading towards the desecrated home of the undead, the Plaguelands.
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The Dirge of Teldrassil had gone to visit the Exodar for a meeting with the Concordat.
Yandra found herself speechless as she gazed upon the halls of the dimensional ship. During her travels to Azuremyst Isle, she had never went inside the Exodar before. She inquisitively explored the curious arcane exhibitions within the Vault of Lights alongside newfound friends. Though, it got to a point where the blinding light became overwhelming.
On a quest to find some fresh air, Yandra and her brethren climbed up a winding stairwell and found themselves at the surface again, next to the harbor. Walking down the pier, Yandra came to a halt. On the horizon loomed the ashen remains of Teldrassil.
A somber feeling overcame the young druid as she looked upon the fallen world tree.
“The Horde shall pay for their crimes, worry not, Yandra.” her allies ensured.
Though Yandra had been struck with as much grief as any other kaldorei, a feeling of uncertainty grew within her heart. She was not sure whether more hatred was the answer to this atrocious conflict.
She excused herself, shifting shape and took to the skies. Long past nightfall she aimlessly drifted through the woods, contemplating past, present and future.
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Yandra studied her dagger. The ornamental owl upon the guard stared back at the kaldorei, its emerald eyes gleaming in Elune’s light. A blade so ornate was seldom seen in the possession of a druid, much less a young one. It had been recently gifted to her, but already seen use in battle.
Yandra’s ears twitched. She looked down to the forest floor. No one could possibly spot her up here, camouflaged by the tree tops. Only earlier this eve, Silverpine had seen a great battle between the Alliance, Horde and Banshee Loyalists. But now it echoed with an eerie emptiness.
Yandra remained on high alert, keeping watch for the rest of the night.
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I hope you’re healed up!
The battle isn’t over yet!
Great battle, loved it.
I recommend these people! Great guild!
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Ah, “A loon a door ay”, friends! Thanks for coming in and saving us from the evil and vicious Trolls earlier, much appreciation!
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That is so wrongly said, it made me mad!
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i’m sorry about the tree 
pyromancy is kinda fun doe 
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You put up a good fight, but your Demon Hunters will never again harm our priestesses!
Your druid was unfortunate collateral.
(Elune loves us more tho)
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The horrors of war weighed heavily on the Warden’s mind as she regarded her surroundings with mild scrutiny. Despite the injuries, she was recovering from, she couldn’t find it within herself to remain bedbound – her mind mirrored a chaotic storm as she questioned the morality of recent transgressions. She struggled to remember much of what transpired before her vision was painted black by the threads of unconsciousness that ensnared her like a serpent coiling around its prey.
All she could remember was feeling the sharp sting of the dagger moments before her fall. Nytheria allowed herself a fleeting moment in order to compose herself, albeit nothing could soothe her restless spirit. She reached for a sealed book that was housed within her satchel as she pried it out, along with a feathered quill and a vial of ink. In the midst of her silence, she took the time to convey her thoughts within her journal.
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Yandra had felt a disturbance in the wind last night. A looming threat which grew nearer and nearer. Something bad was about to happen and the druid was not willing to simply watch on.
She took to the skies alongside Kelidria. The two flew to Seradane. Not even a bad feeling could have prepared the druids for what they were about to see. The Loyalists had made camp in one of the old ruins, desecrating the site with crude symbols and shadow magics. Trees were in the process of being cut down and burned, causing large plumes of smoke to rise from the grove. A horrific vision flashed before Yandra’s eyes. For a split second, she saw an ashen shore, scattered with burning bodies.
Something had to be done.
A battle broke out. The Dirge of Teldrassil and Assemblage of Uld came to Seradane’s aid. Though they were ultimately pushed out. The Loyalists’ numbers were far too great.
As the Concordat made it to safety, Yandra could not shake the feeling of hopelessness. She had felt a pull from the emerald dream. It had cried out in anguish to her as the Loyalists roamed freely in the grove. ‘Had other druids forgotten their duties? Why had they not answered nature’s call?’ Yandra did not often feel rage, but at this moment she did. Anger and grief.
“No more kaldorei land shall fall into the rotten hands of the forsaken, if it is the last thing I do.”
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