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Within the wild lands of Feralas lives a tribe that has endured the ages. Their lives revolve around the protection of the wild places and maintaining the balance of the Earthmother. They will not falter, and they will not fade:

The Shadowhoof scout peered through the canopy at the foul satyr below him. He notched an arrow to his bow and took aim. The disgusting creature was chanting softly, but it's spell was cut brutally short as an arrow embedded itself within the monster's throat. The light gurgle and wide eyed look gave the scout satisfaction of a good kill. Before the monster fell to the ground the bull was gone.

Further North a larger camp watched the settlement of centaur carefully. The stench and foul magics of the corrupt horse-men were enough to make most cringe, but it only gave the gathering of warriors energy for battle. They stood just out of sight from a small scouting party and readied themselves for the attack. A quick glance down the line was all the alpha female needed before letting out a war cry that shook the scouts to their core. The ground began to tremor as the stampede began.

To the west, another gathering was beginning. The elder shaman stood at the edge of the cliff as a massive thunder cloud tore through the Naga trying to storm the beach. Many of the sea witches tried to shield their warriors from the storm, but it was all in vain as blade and shield assaulted them relentlessly and without mercy. Soon the beach was soaked in the blood of their enemies, as they roared into the surf, taunting the remaining Naga.

Nothing will corrupt their duty. Nothing will keep them from surviving. Nothing will conquer their spirits. For they are Shadowhoof... All of them.


You laughed at us, when we refused to join your family. You said we were paranoid and that we would perish if not for the Horde. You threatened us for believing in peace and called us traitors because we would not kill YOUR enemies mindlessly. You questioned our intentions, when all we wanted was to be left alone. You brought war to our doorsteps and were insulted that we did not thank you afterwards.

I watched as the world burned around me, and I sent my people to join in the effort to save our precious Earthmother. We gladly gave our lives to save this world, as did many of the Shu'halo. Lines were never drawn, and we saved both Horde and Alliance. For these acts we were branded traitors and enemies. So we vanished and melted back into the shadows after the battle was won. We remained content with watching the world change around us as the Earthmother healed her wounds.

Now, we have returned as the talk of war hangs in the air once again. Another land, another conquest for the Horde. What purpose does this all serve? Why should we leave our homes, our families, and our peace to fight for land that does not belong to us? You wish to force another people to bow down to the pact of the Horde, or eventually perish under it's gunfire? Brothers and sisters... It is time you walked away from the Horde. Let them die in droves for conquest... Let them destory themselves... We will no longer be their tools.