demigods, creatures eternal in nature yet capable of ultimate sacrifice. But not until the War of the Ancients had any of these protectors faced a threat as terrifying as the Burning Legion. Dragons had perished by the scores, and among the spirits and demigods there were many who fell in the final battle.
One of those had been Goldrinn.
Yet, this bloody scene before her was not exactly history. Tyrande finally understood that, though her natural instinct was to fear not only for her world but also for the wolf seeking to protect it again. Elune had chosen this urgent scene to tell her something, though the high priestess was at a loss as to what it might be. Was she to watch Goldrinn sacrifice himself once more?
Several demons neared the giant wolf, who growled his challenge to them. But as the attackers came upon him, with renewed cries, a vast pack of mortal wolves leapt from the emptiness behind Goldrinn. They poured over the landscape, sleek, furred hunters already sizing up their individual prey. Though they were not as huge as most of the demons, they charged with ferocity and determination unparalleled.
The two forces collided. The demons wielded blades, axes, savage teeth, claws, and more, and knew how to use all of them well. At first it seemed the wolves had only teeth and claws, but their dexterity and swiftness were unmatched. They darted among their sinister foes, snapping and slashing wherever there was an opening.
Goldrinn stood at the forefront. The huge wolf seized a felguard in his mouth and bit through. Green flames erupted as the beast let the fragments fall. At the same time his claws crushed through another foe.
Two wolves brought down an axe-wielding enemy who had just cleaved in twain one of their brethren. The wolves tore the demon’s arms off, then one took out the throat. However, other demons fell upon them, overwhelming the pair.
Tyrande strained to join the battle but could not move. She could only watch helplessly as more wolves perished, and even though they seemed to take more than their number in adversaries, that did little to assuage her fears and regrets for them.
More and more demons focused on Goldrinn, clearly aware that he was what guided the wolves. The demons tried to hack away at his limbs or drag him down so that they could cut his throat, but Goldrinn shook off those near his paws, batting some away so hard that they crashed into their own comrades. In his savage jaws, the gigantic wolf plucked up one demon after another. Some he bit to pieces like the first; others he shook until the sheer force sent their body parts scattering. Goldrinn barreled through the Burning Legion’s ranks, his eager pack ever at his side.
Bloody wolf carcasses and dismembered demon corpses already littered the battlefield, but the two sides’ numbers appeared undiminished. Another wolf was chopped to pieces, and even more demons attacked Goldrinn. Yet, the enormous wolf was undaunted and continued to claw and bite one foe after another, leaving them piled three and four high in many places.
Mother Moon, why do you show this to me?!? The high priestess strained to leap to Goldrinn’s aid, but still could not do more than observe. Either let me join this struggle, or tell me the purpose of this endless slaughter, please!
But the fight went on without revelation, and, worse, matters suddenly took a dark turn for Goldrinn. Harassed from all sides, the wolf could not fend off all his opponents. Demons struck him again and again, the growing number of wounds finally beginning to take their toll on the great Ancient.
One of the felguard managed to climb atop the white wolf’s back. The fiendish warrior, his eyes blazing green in anticipation, raised his weapon and struck hard at the center of the wolf’s spine.
“No!” Tyrande cried out, realizing what was about to happen. She was well aware of this dire event, though she had never known the details.
Goldrinn let out an anguished howl. His legs collapsed beneath him. Demons pushed at him in greater numbers.
From somewhere in the madness to the Ancient’s right, a single dark-brown wolf leapt up. Though the height should have been beyond his capabilities, the smaller wolf managed to reach not only Goldrinn’s back but the demon who had so terribly wounded him as well.
The felguard turned just as the wolf neared. The demon attempted to slash at the newcomer, but the sleek, lupine form darted under the