Jan. 12th, 2010

antipallidan: (normal)
[Editor's note: translated from taurahe, but the writing is as if someone else wrote the entry.]

I... I do not know what came over me. The last coherent thing I remember was wanting to erase the person I was from my mind. For a terrible, brief moment, I once again heard a voice other then my own inside my mind. Not Arthas, but another scourge... And then I remembered. One of the Darkfallen, or San'Layn as they are also known. One that killed me, then raised me into this tormented semblance of living. I vaguely remember fetching my armor and weaponry from the innkeeper in Thunderlord Stronghold, casting the deathgate spell to return to the Ebon hold, and marching directly to Darion Mograine himself. He looked at me with a steeled gaze. "What is it?" Barely containing my building rage, "Tenris Mirkblood. Where is he?" Mograine's response was swift, brutal, and painful. "He's dead, at someone else's hands. I want you to think about my next words, and ask for me when you understand them. We are here for one purpose, and one purpose alone: retribution. Not against his lieutenants, but against him directly. You need to harness this hate and use it for something other then petty revenge, and it is to that purpose that I now do the following." The blow came unexpectedly, and nearly sent me tumbling out of the former necropolis into the world far below. Several hands took a firm hold of me and dragged me away to a cell that still contained some rotting remnants of their residents when the hold was under scourge control. I sat, nearly mindless with rage and anger, for some time, until it was finally spent.

When I came to, Diary, I saw the pages I wrote, and bled on, and I now realize the simple truth: I am who I was, and am now. I came to realize what I had done and what I must do. A few taps on the door brought one of the guards, who grunted and walked away. Mograine presently arrived, and let me out of the cell, but not before drawing his sword. "Are you in a better mood to think now?" I nodded meekly. Before I could say anything, he held up his free hand. "I can see the madness has left you, and left you whole, or at least more complete then you may realize. The guard here will return your armor and weapon; and you'll be released to finish your outstanding tasks in Outland. But as soon as you are able, You must travel to Northrend and assist the Horde efforts there in the way only a death knight can. Good luck." I bowed to him, and followed the guard to collect the remainder of my effects.

[OOC note: largely non-canon, at least in regards to the conversation with Mograine.]

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