Prompt from http://toomanyannas.com/feature/friday-ficlet-nightmares/
Strumwulf jolted from sleep with a scream of rage and pain on his lips. He froze his body to stifle the burning agony that radiated from all of his limbs. Catching his breath, Strumwulf took a look around to determine where he was. The sight of the snow-covered entrance to the Timbermaw tunnels, brought back to mind where he was, and what he had been doing. Shame churned in his soul, as he failed in his self-appointed duty, and fallen asleep waiting for Winterfall furbolg. It was rare that he slept these days, and even rarer that he dreamed. What he remembered was glimpses of black and grey dwarven faces, being burned and crushed, then it all starting over, and a name, "Windsor".
Perhaps it was time to return to Stormwind, then head on to Blackrock. This nightmare was the most he remembered of his past before being raised in Arthas' service. Perhaps Trias, would have a clue for him to follow.