Apr. 27th, 2016

A return.

Apr. 27th, 2016 01:16 pm
antipallidan: (normal)
[translated from taurahe]

The Lich King, Arthas, is dead.

Not at my hands, dear diary, but at someone else's. As much as this disappoints me, I realize now in hind sight that it was never meant to be. I may be called a hero, but I rather do things in the back ground that further my cause, and bring me closer to my redemption.


I was performing my daily penance against the vrykul around the Shadow Vault when it happened. I felt it- it was as if heavy chain had been lifted from me, even more so from when we were first freed. The vrykul I was fighting felt it and stopped mid-swing, a look of confusion appearing on his face as the realization hit him. The look turned to shock and surprise a moment later as I impaled him first with my runeblade, then with the standard holding the banner of the Ebon Blade. This was the last one, so I returned back to the Shadow Vault, landing just in time before Baron Silver entered a death gate back to the Ebon Hold. He ordered me to stay and assist with holding back any scourge until he returned.

The assault on the vault by the scourge had let up briefly, but resumed shortly after he had left. I joined the front line and spent some time driving back the abominations and other assorted undead that had been directed at us. I did notice that the first few waves when the attacks resumed were quite disorganized, as if the mind directing the assault was confused or mis-directed. In due time, the Baron returned, and ordered me to return to the hold- I was being given new orders.

As I blinked into existence within the Hold, I noticed the place was somewhat less busy than usual- the normal air of grim determination held a whiff of what one could only describe as relief, mixed with uncertainty. I presented myself to Highlord Mograine.

"Ah, yes. you seem to want to stay away from that which you once were, to bury old regrets and memories. You have become very good at destroying the undead in Northrend, which is why I am assigning you to assist the horde with the culling of the remaining scourge. I won't hide from my fellow knights what Tirion revealed to me- the scourge army must have a master, lest they go out of control. Another took up the crown of the lich king, sacrificing himself to contain them. You may have felt something when Arthas was killed?"

I nodded as he continued. "Good. You are truly free, then. Let go of who you once were and become who and what you are- an instrument of punishment for those that would-"

His voice cut out as we all felt the world shudder. After regaining his voice, he began again. "New orders. Report to Orgrimmar; offer what assistance you can to aid the horde. Pass these same orders to other horde aligned death knights. And HURRY- I fear something terrible has happened, and the fate of the world may hang by our deeds and acts. GO!"

It was a short time later that I found myself boarding a ship with Thrall, the Warchief of the Horde, on our way to the Maelstrom. Through a series of events, I found myself trapped aboard a sunken ship far underwater. I managed to escape, and eventually found myself doing something I had deemed unthinkable since becoming this monster- I was working on the behalf of the Cenarion Circle to defend the World Tree. I find it ironic that this once druid turned killing machine is helping druids once again.

Unfortunately, that is all the time I have to write- Battle calls.




[OOC note: after a long hiatus and swearing never to play World of Warcraft, I finally allowed myself to be talked into turning my account back on, if only to see if anything has changed.]

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