There was change in the air. Rhoach could smell it. He knew others felt it too. He had seen Verissi, Holyssa, Kieranna and others acting preoccupied lately.
He put his musings aside as he snuck into the Silvermoon base, following the clash of steel on steel accompanied by guttural grunts. He arrived at the scene just as an orc slumped to the ground, its chest pierced by the greatsword of a night elf warrior. The night elf yanked out its sword and fell to its knees, barely able to stand. Rhoach gathered the shadows about him as he closed in on the bloody survivor. One swift punch in the kidneys followed by a armor-shattering blow across the night elf's midsection, and it was over.
As Rhoach repoisoned his blades and began to make his way onward, he happened to glance down at the night elf corpse and realized that he was hungry. Very hungry. A thick strand of viscous drool oozed out of his jawless mouth and splattered onto the flagstone at his feet with a sharp *plap*. Rhoach knelt and watched his hands as they seemed to work with a will of their own, yanking aside the knight elf's sundered armor and ripping out the corpse's liver. He held it at arm's length and looked at it for a bit, pondering how to best consume this apparent delicacy. First trying to mash the liver against his upper row of teeth, he soon gave up and simply shoved it down his throat, swallowing it whole. Sweet Zul'jin (rest his soul) that was good! He continued in this fashion, consuming the heart and a kidney before his macabre feast was interrupted by a voice in his head, strong and undeniable.
Rhoach whipped his head up and gargled in agony, his mind under psychic assault as the Lich King let his threat be known to Azeroth and beyond. After Rhoach was done writhing, throwing bits of night elf here and there in the process, he slumped to the ground and pondered. Yes, change was definitely in the air.