It's been nearly a year since I pulled myself from the wreckage of the Exodar, yet another casualty of the nobility and their quest for power. Prior to that, it was the loss of Dreanor, and before that, the loss of Argus.
All because of the insatiable lust for power and domination that nearly all nobility seem to have.
Obviously, there are a few that can see above the drug-lust for power, else we would have not made any headway in our fight against Arthas. Thrall, Proudmoore and Velen come to mind, but even they have their deep flaws.
Thrall with his inability to set aside the warmongers that are his friends. In our dealings with Orc on Dreanor, we Draenei could see the nobility, the fierce spirit, and the loyalty within them. It's too bad that it can be swayed so easily, and Thrall seems unable to completely set aside his more virulent associates, and move forward for the greater good.
Jaina simply has a blind spot the size of Icecrown Citadel. Her soul is good, but her judgement could lead us to ruin.
As for Prophet Velen? He's lead us during our flight, and has maintained his vision of truth and the Naaru. But he has no concept of the world we now live in. He seemingly cowers in the bowels of Exodar's wreckage. He needs to stand firm and help lead. Perhaps the loss of the Exodar, with the treachery involved, has finally started to break his spirit.
I am afraid.
I have seen the hearts of our allies and our enemies as well, and the future bodes ill.
After a long hunt around Northrend, I finally picked up Arthas' trail and joined forces with Highlord Fordragon. THIS was the fight I had been meant for HERE was my chance.
I circled the battlefield on Ebbla, my netherdrake, waiting for my chance to judge, to vent my wrath. Time for Retribution.
As I dove into the starting fray, I say Putress and her minions readying the catapults. I pulled up and bellowed to the forces of light, both Horde and Alliance.
"FLEE! The forsaken await!"
In the clatter of steel on steel, my voice was lost, and down rained the plague. Man, Orc and Sourge all fell to that foul fume. Even Arthas dropped to his knees.
I shrieked in impotent rage and I circled, waiting, hoping for a chance to sate my anger and bloodlust. For even now, as a potent blade in the service of Naaru, I am not equal to the task of taking on the entire mass of the forsaken.
Not alone, at least.
As the last life ebbed from Highlord Fordagon I heard a piercing shriek from the south. Ebbla reared and starting clawing the air to evade this new threat. My eyes followed the sound and my eyes watered as I recognized the Red Dragon Flight approaching, then cleansing the battlefield.
We plummeted down to join Alexstrasza as she stood before the Wrathgate.
"Your dalliance has cost both the Horde and Alliance countless soldiers!" I bellowed.
She lowered her head, and exhaled a searing breath, just to remind me who I was speaking to. Whether she heard me or not, she instructed me to take Bolvar's shield back to King Wrynn. Judging by her smugness, and her mundane instruction, it was clear she HAD heard me, but wouldn't let a mere Paladin talk in such a way.
She stood there, condescending, gloating in her less than timely victory, her feet grinding the ash & blood of the fallen into the rock before the gate. we had met before, as her human aspect, and we did not get along. Even though I had earned some of her respect, I couldn't risk angering her more.
I did as she commanded, and returned to Stormwind, with the relic of defeat lashed to my back. I had no desire to bring this news to Varian. HIs temper is well known, and it did not disappoint. Only Proudmoore's sanity kept him in check. After a brief and tense teleport to Orgrimmar and conversation with Thrall, Varian sent me to Undercity to bring Putress to justice. He and Proudmoore followed.
As I stood outside the sewer of Undercity, the wrecked bones of Lordaeron, the stench brought me to my knees. We were supposed to enter that?
With self righteous glee and anger, King Wrynn blazed a trail through the forsaken, through an unending labyrinth of filth and fume. I charged through battle after battle in the hopes of living to breath fresh air again. But onward and deeper we went, until Putress finally fell to our blades.
And then Ego stepped in.
We could hear Thrall's bellows as he commanded his own troops to cleanse Putress' evil from the place. Varian, true to his nature charged in to kill Thrall. I stood frozen in disbelief, my mouth hanging open in utter shock.
This man, MY LIEGE, tried to kill one of the few hopes for peace and cooperation between the Horde and Alliance. My grip on my polearm clenched, as I tried to figure out who I should kill. I would not stand and let futile lust for power destroy THIS world as well.
As I raised my weapon, getting closer to Wrynn's neck, Lady Proudmoore ported us back to Stormwind.
I don't know if she did it to save Thrall from Wrynn's blade, or to save Wrynn from mine.
"It didn't have to be like this" was all she said as she fled the throne room. I'm still not sure if she, or anyone else saw me, or knew what I was going to do.
I love the Alliance. I love the people of Azeroth.
I despise the nobility.
In case you are wondering what just happened here, this is my take on the whole Wrathgate questline. Chas over at Righteous Orbs did a wonderful writeup with his own view of these events from the point of view of his Forsaken, LINKY HERE. Color me inspired. I'm not an RPer overall, but after watching the whole story unfold and the little RP backstory I *did* have for Balth, I thought this could be interesting...