Somewhere in the bowels of the Undercity, a moth lifts its wings and takes flight, sailing through the miasmatic sewers. Too drunk to realize the significance of its departure, its owner yells obscenities after the insect, his voice echoing hoarsely off the wrought stonework walls.
Dalaran's Eventide bank is thrown into a brief panic by an attack of moths when a dozen of them come boiling out of a client's deposit box, sweeping out into the streets in a whirlwind of scaled wings and feathery antennae. They do not linger to destroy the bank's property, arrowing for the Sunreaver portals with an unnatural swiftness.
In Acherus, a tiny flock of the creatures converge from all directions, escaping the hold onto plague-laden winds to drift across the reddening sky as infinitesimal specks of color. They are joined by escapees from Quel'Thalas, one that abandons its title and tiny moth house, its position as the most spoiled of moths; another which will go
unmissed and unmourned; the third sure to worry its owner by its absence.
Quietly, delaying as long as it can, a golden-winged moth waits for an unwatched moment to crawl out the open window of a Stormwind clinic, vanishing into the lengthening evening.
Further north, a half-dozen moths flee the lengthening night to the Howling Fjord, seeking the actinic lights of Vengeance Landing. Sweeping down on the icy winds from the Storm Peaks, they nestle into the netting of the zeppelin to Undercity, huddling together against the storms at sea.