The shrouded isles were heavily protected by the lothern sea guard. Ethereal mists and their cloying tendrils made attacks perilous and foolish. But none could deter the wicked nature of the Orcs and Goblin tribes. Great squigs and giant trolls made land fall along with sinister green imps and full plated black orcs. Death had landed upon these high elf shores. A garrison of phoenix guard and white lions were mustered and all marched towards the ancient waystones of island. Why the greenskins had come to topple these stones was unclear, were they commanded by shadowy powers or had their spiteful bloodlust hit fever pitch? Battle was now inevitable and the high elves would soon find their answers upon the sharp edge of a blade.