As the young maid ran into the alleyway to be confronted by the Ghoul, her brother clutching her skirts, she suddenly screamed in terror. An explosion of fire wreathed the alleyway in flame, and the maid uncovered her eyes to see the ghoul scorched and dead. Behind its smoldering remains was a dashing young man with his palm out, in darkly colored robes she would think befit a noble. In truth they were his standard Dalaran robes, and they had seen better days. So had the young man. 

Nathoric grimaced from the heat, and wiped the dirt and sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. "Abominations" he breathed in disgust, and pointed towards the door at their left. "Get inside, quickly!" he ordered her. She didn't need to be asked twice, even lifting her younger brother up and lugging him inside. As they passed him, he could see more clearly towards the mouth of the alley, and the ghouls streaming across the town, ravaging the last remnants of the footmen. [i]Just my luck. I left the cooking pot and fell into the fire. I'll never make to Andorhall at this rate.[/i] Still, there was something about this town that tugged at his mage sight. Something elusive... If he lived he'd investigate further.

He began preparing his most devastating spells as he moved forward toward the fray, ready to burst out of the alley with fire and frost and arcane magic. In truth he wasn't that powerful of a mage, even if his magical repertoire and power had increased significantly from surviving through the destruction of the Capital city and its outer lying villages. When he had traveled earlier, he'd only met small packs of Ghouls either licking their wounds or in the midst of combat with ragged humans. The force he saw streaming past him was a wave of enemies unlike any he'd yet seen. Still, he had survived so far. 

The screams of the dying was still mingled with the yells of combat, though they were now much much quieter. Was only one man still alive? No, two men. A younger man and an older, more boisterous fellow. Not about to ask questions, he stepped out into the wider streets. Arcane first, he ordered himself. Purple tendrils of energy arced out of his fingers and struck ghoul after ghoul, knocking down and damaging more than killing them, though 5 lay dead to his satisfaction. [i]Dammit, not enough.[/i] He quickly slammed his palms together in a clap, yelling out an arcane word of power in unison. Another explosion of fire rolled over the damaged Ghouls in a wave, and he didn't stick around to fight the rest of the horde, making his way over to the two men and the... quite attractive woman. Where had she come from? He sensed something about her he could not quite put his finger on. 

"Well met." he said, and realized just how tired he was from his magic and travels when even speaking out of combat made him want to fall over and catch his breath. "Is there a position we can defend ourselves in or is this it?"