In the northwestern part of Felwood, along the edge of the mountains bordering Darkshore.
Sentinel General Shandris Feathermoon, clutching her longbow, looked down from the steep cliffs with a furrowed brow. The thick, sea-borne mist typical of the coast made visibility in Darkshore very low at night.
"Shandris."
A peculiar creature—human from the waist up and deer from the waist down—leaped nimbly from a nearby cliff to Shandris' side. This half-human, half-deer being possessed a beautiful face and a lithe figure. Her vital areas were covered by natural armor made of leaves and branches, and long, willow-like green hair draped over her deer-like back.
Hearing the call, Shandris, who had been somewhat distracted, turned back and smiled. "Lunara, did you find anything?"
These humanoid creatures were known to the Night Elves as Dryads; they were the daughters of the Forest Demigod, Cenarius. Like their father, Dryads loved nature dearly.
Most were lively and peaceful, but when facing enemies who sought to destroy nature, they displayed formidable combat prowess. They were among the Night Elves' most important natural allies on the Kalimdor continent.
The Dryad before Shandris was Lunara, the eldest daughter of Cenarius. Unlike her gentler sisters, Lunara had always maintained a zero-tolerance policy toward any creature that harmed nature.
As the Satyrs gradually emerged from hiding, the Fel energy they wielded caused significant damage to Felwood's environment. Lunara could not tolerate such desecration. Learning that the Sentinels were searching for the Satyrs' lair, she had hurried from Mount Hyjal to volunteer for Shandris's team.
Lunara shook her head with regret, a look of displeasure crossing her delicate features. "Those twisted creatures vanished completely after fleeing to this vicinity. The last traces point toward the steep cliffs below."
Shandris lowered her head in thought. "But Satyrs lack wings and do not have the ability to fly. How exactly did they escape our sight?"
"Stealth?" Lunara suggested.
Shandris shook her head. "No. To guard against Satyr stealth, I specifically had the rangers bring their owl companions. No stealth can escape their senses."
Lunara walked to Shandris's side and looked down. "Which means there should be a secret passage nearby? Is that why you sent a warning to Andreas Moonshadow's apprentice?"
"Precisely." Shandris' eyes narrowed slightly. "I suspect those Satyrs might have followed a secret passage—whose entrance is unknown—to reach Darkshore. I have no evidence yet, only a gut feeling."
"I believe you," Lunara said, patting Shandris' shoulder in support. "War-hardened soldiers occasionally rely on their vast experience to instinctively make guesses that hit close to the truth."
"Considering the situation in Darkshore, it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Thank you, Lunara," Shandris said seriously. "If the Satyrs escape to Darkshore in large numbers, hunting them down will become much harder. We must find this possible secret passage as quickly as possible."
...
Inside the Cliffspring Cave in Darkshore, the members of the expedition team led by Leticia entered stealthily to explore. Due to the long-term influence of the mist from Cliffspring Falls, the humidity inside the cave was very high, and the walls and floor were covered in damp moss. Leticia and the others had to choose their footing carefully to avoid slipping.
The cave was roughly divided into two levels. The entrance Leticia's team used was on the upper level, near the exterior waterfall. After some initial scouting, they found nothing. However, just as they followed a long, gentle slope into the lower level, Leticia's expression instantly changed.
She raised her left hand in a "stop" gesture and signaled Feron Zephyr to her side. The members of the expedition were no rookies; most had been tempered by the War of the Ancients. They could tell from Leticia's suddenly grim expression that something was wrong. Feron, in his black panther form, leaped to her side with silent, graceful steps.
The two shared no verbal exchange, communicating entirely through hand signals. Leticia pointed toward a tunnel on the left and, using the tactical gestures established by Andreas, signaled Feron to proceed in Prowl for reconnaissance.
Feron nodded silently, his form vanishing instantly as he crept toward the western passage of the lower level.
Leticia and the others waited patiently. For the first time in a long while, Leticia felt a surge of anxiety, habitually biting the nail of her left thumb.
The scent of Fel... as I suspected?
A sharp light flashed in her eyes. Leticia tightened her grip on her Moonglaive, struggling to calm her boiling emotions. Although she had learned to control her hatred for the Burning Legion over the last two hundred years under the guidance of Andreas and Shandris, she would never forget the past. Smelling that long-absent scent of Fel, Leticia involuntarily recalled the scene of her father's tragic death.
Stay calm. Andreas said that the more critical the moment, the more one must be calm. Impulsiveness clouds judgment and leads to wrong decisions.
Taking a silent, deep breath, Leticia slowly regulated her breathing.
Hiss~
A barely audible signal echoed from inside the cave. Leticia's expression hardened. This was the specific signal used by Moonshadow's Rest scouts, indicating "enemies ahead."
Leticia raised her left fist high. Every member of the expedition gripped their weapons, prepared for battle. When Feron's second signal arrived, Leticia's raised hand swept down heavily. Several fully armed warriors charged into the inner cave first.
Leticia followed in the center of the formation as required by their protocol. When she saw the scene inside, she felt the blood in her entire body rush to her head.
In the center of the wide cavern stood a crude stone altar, now drenched in dark red blood. A male Night Elf, long since deceased, was bound to the altar. Several hideous creatures with curved horns, cloven hooves, and purple fur were dancing gleefully around the platform.
The heavy stench of blood in the cave made the expedition members uneasy. Seeing the tragic, disemboweled corpse of a kinsman used as a living sacrifice, no one could remain completely calm.
A veteran warrior in the front row lowered his voice into a growl as he charged: "Demons! Pay for our fallen kin with your lives!"
There were only about a dozen Satyrs in the cave. Aside from a few conducting the sacrificial ritual around the altar, the remaining lower-ranked Satyrs were circled around the perimeter. They were clearly unprepared for a sudden assault.
Bam!
The lead warrior slammed his shield into the face of a Satyr, sending shards of teeth and blood flying.
Leticia no longer wore her usual mischievous grin. With a cold face, she hurled her Moonglaive, her voice rising in a commanding shout:
"Attack! Leave only one alive for questioning! Eradicate these traitors who serve the demons!"