"Stampede, stampede, the dreadsteeds, oh they run... Stampede, stampede, beware- the lady comes."
A figure walked along the shores of Tirisfall Glades. From head to toe, a dull royal purple cloak, feathered at the shoulder pauldrons, with runes and words of a magical language inscribed into the thick purple cloth that covered her entire appearance. She used her crystalline staff as a cane, which hummed full of radiant energy each time it clanked against the rocky sands of the beach. She walked slowly, her boots shuffling in the sand, kicking up the dust and seashells that washed ashore.
"Stampede, stampeeede, from Xoroth she arrives. Her heart's gone cold... the green... within her eyes..." She sang somberly. Her voice broke unpredictably, albeit not too often. After she finished singing her line, she came to a sudden halt, looking toward the ocean waves which rumbled just next to her boots. Slowly, her gaze raised upward, toward the sunset on the horizon. She sat and stared briefly, but it seemed like an eternity. She turned back toward her destination, continuing her walk.
"Stampede, stampede, the runes which she aligns... stampede... their soldiers cry."
She took a deep breath. As she did, the gauntlets on her hands let out a small blast of steam exhaust from the wrists.
"Stampede, stampede, behold the Legion's might. Behold, behold... the green within her eyes."
She hummed along to the rhythm of her song as she continued her walk. She almost seemed aimless, veering to the left and right on the uneven sands.
"Behold..." She continued. "Behold... Catherine's wings."
Her humming continued once more. Her voice grew weaker and weaker with each step she took, so much so that she went off rhythm here and there. Eventually, the hooded woman changed directions, walking away from the beach of Tirisfall, and onto the plagued grass of her former homeland.
"Behold, behold... from Xoroth she arrives. Behold, behold, the green... within her eyes."
Eventually, the woman would find herself at the picket-fenced gates of an abandoned, rotted, overgrown home. She stared at it from the gate, her eyes empty, but her face was left with just a simple frown.
"Stampede, stampede, lieutenant they say. Stampede, stampede... she's gone astray."