Dathrohan

Lu Li was quite discouraged, and completely ignored the Scarlet Crusade Warrior that was attacking him.

"Why are you so late, Lord Tirion!?"

Lu Li had worked very hard and had stalled for quite some time. Any other player wouldn't have lasted for nearly as long.

"My son, my son!" Old Fordring cried out as he climbed down from his warhorse and ran across the battlefield to his son's side.

Fordring wasn't young anymore, but constant exposure to the Light gave him a youthful appearance. Lu Li never thought of this character as an old man.

However, in this moment, he appeared just like an old man, an old man who had lost his son.

His hair was white and he sobbed as he clutched his son's body. The father and son couldn't even see each other for one last time.

When Tyran was born, Tirion was fighting a bloody battle with the Silver Hand Paladins.