February 17, 2009

Written by Ailia Reant

Day Twenty:

My visit to Ratchet this evening was interesting. I spend the better part of an hour perched on a hill overlooking the town observing those going and coming. Eventually, I threaded my way through the crowd and entered the inn. Most of the tables were occupied by gaudily dressed blood elves, the men fawning over the women while the wine flowed freely. To my relief, none of them paid any attention to me. I found an unoccupied table in the back from which I could observe those around me in relative seclusion. At one point, a friendly troll approached and attempted to draw me into conversation. Even in life, I was not particularly skilled in the social graces. I am afraid what little ability I had in that area has already been lost. He soon gave up and left me alone.

A subtle movement to the left caught my attention. In the corner nearest me sat two figures leaning into the shadows. There were plenty of couples, sitting close together, carrying on hushed conversations. But, there was something different about those two. An unexpected benefit of my undead state is the ability to see through shadows. Upon careful observation, I ascertained one of the figures was a Troll Death Knight.

The other figure was cloaked and presented a mystery. Too small to be a Tauren or Orc yet too short to be a Troll. It didn’t have the gaunt form of a Forsaken either. A human perhaps … but what would a human be doing here, and in the company of this Death Knight.

I turned my attention back to the Troll. There was something in his manner that set my senses on the alert. Attempting to tune out the raucous laughter and shouts from the drunken Blood Elves, I strained to hear their conversation. I could make out little, but at one point, the cloaked figure’s voice rose sharply and a woman’s voice spoke the name, “Caltrains” .

I heard nothing more and they left shortly thereafter. I remained for a time, mulling over what I heard. Eventually I rose and walked out of the inn. I started to make for the gryphon, but decided to walk back instead.

tauren2Upon returning to the Crossroads, I found the ground littered with bodies. Another Alliance raiding party had come through only moments before. A young Tauren lying nearby moaned in pain. I withdrew a roll of bandages from my pack and knelt beside him. My hands were clumsy, but I did what I could to staunch the flow of blood. He smiled feebly, gratitude in his pain filled eyes.

I remained with him until at last he drew a shuddering breath and lay still. I’m not sure how long I knelt there, oblivious as others came and went around me. I have killed countless members of the Horde. I never once felt regret or compassion. Strange that I should feel it now. I see the hate in the eyes of those around me. The lust for revenge. I understand it, but I know the truth. The enemy is not the Alliance, nor the Horde. We are mere pawns pitted against one another while the true enemy grows strong. While we destroy each other, he watches and laughs.

I will be a pawn no longer. I will not lift my sword against either Alliance or Horde save to defend myself or another. In the last days before I fell, I devoted myself to the protection of my homeland, Lordaeron, from the onslaught of the Scourge. That calling is still left to me. Now, I fight not only to defend my homeland, but to defend all those who still walk among the living. I would not have another soul, be it Alliance or Horde, share my fate.



  1. Randomly came across your blog. Your writing is spectacular.

  2. Jevois, I appreciate you stopping by. There are few things in life I enjoy so much as writing and I would continue to write even if no one else ever read my stories. Still, there is an extra special feeling of satisfaction in sharing your work with others, and knowing they find something of value or find some entertainment in what you wrote. I am truly delighted that you enjoyed your visit. Thank you for the kind comment.

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