Aelthir Tundrak II thrusts his spear into the body of a dark minion, its screeching cut short as cold steel rips into its throat. Rolling his shoulders, he glances about the interior of the Xionfall Temple, watching as the victorious Ivae'fenn veterans finish off wounded creatures upon the ground, their bodies piled high in droves. Black blood remains splattered upon the Grand Prince's white armor, a testament to the countless minions and dark champions he had personally cut through. "It is fortunate that we decided to make this march," he comments to the nearby Sulien. "Our descendant lliran would have been slaughtered. Perhaps these invaders will have learned their lesson after this massacre, though. If not, we will have no choice but to continue driving them from Hesin'fin ourselves."