The aetheric winds had changed. Whether that was for good or ill mattered not, only that they had changed. Their change was the herald he needed to take his people out of hiding.
Sea Elf Prince Tarkin had hidden his people away from the ravages of Chaos for more years than he cared to count. At his order the storms that wracked the seas surrounding their island had been stoked into a raging tempest that none save a Sea Elf could navigate. His duty now was to lead his forces into the unknown beyond their storms and confront a changed world.
Prince Tarkin was scouting ahead of the army, riding his trusty gryphon Motyph, when he spotted a desperate battle in the distance. Flying closer he saw warriors in golden armor beset upon all sides by a seemingly endless tide of chaos worshipers. It appeared that the golden warriors had been pushing for a nearby relmgate when they were ambushed by the chaos warriors.
These fought with great skill. The simple fact that they fought against chaos lead Tarkin to believe they were worth coming to the aid of. Wheeling Motyph around, he headed to rally his troop.