Samla,
As we follow our Lord Arthas north, ever north, my heart grows heavy. While he once shined with the Light, I now sense a darkening of the young paladin’s spirit. His zeal is shadowed by a brooding, over some nightmare in his soul that I cannot divine…
We will soon make landfall in the frozen wastes. Although many of his men grow sick from the chill and from battles against putrid beasts, Arthas tells us that what he seeks in the ice will turn the tide of battle. But I took no comfort in his words. For after he said them… the grim smile planted on his curled lips chilled me deeper then any blizzard could. Pray for us, Samla, and pray for our world.
Torgal
A ruined Document, found in the remains of a Ghoul in the Burning Steppes
Dear Pamela,
Tomorrow we make our stand in Andorhal, and I fear this will be my last letter to you, my love. The Undead are unfatigued and we, I fear, are only human. We cannot hold out against them. But fret not, for although we are sure perish, our hope stays strong. The Light will prevail!
And, my dearest, I take comfort knowing that, as those dark terrors storm our walls and crash over us, my last thoughts will not be of death. I will think of you in my arms, and I will know peace at last.
Christoph
Reuben,
I write this letter knowing you may never see it; I simply can’t remain idle, listening to the constant pounding against the Hearthglen walls. The undead are outside our village, unceasing in their assault, and we have been charged with defending the townsfolk until reinforcements arrive.
My leg was broken in the last charge, and so I sit, useless, with my sword at my side should there be a breach in our defenses. There is no idle banter… Only the sounds of fighting and death. The air is thick with fear.
Prince Arthas is here. Fighting on the front lines with the men. Were he not present we would have fallen long ago. His love for this land and its people is infectious; I gladly serve under him, and will to the end of my days.
The fighting grows more intense; broken leg or not. I cannot sit here. Every sword is needed. I hope these words find you in happier times.
Your friend,
Leagrim
Dearest Amelia,
Tonight I have seen things that will haunt me to the end of time.
Stratholme is aflame… and we are responsible.
Our Prince led us into the streets of the city tonight; he ordered us to break into the homes of the townspeople and… kill them in their sleep. They were plagued, claimed Lord Arthas, and had to be killed before they killed us.
It was a slaughter, hundreds died silently to the swords of those sworn to protect them. I could stand it no longer; I fled.
Deserter I may be, but I could not commit such atrocities. In every home I could not help but see your face, or those of our children, upon the victims as they died. If standing against that means being a traitor, then so be it.
I hope to find my way back to you in time, but the roads are unsafe. Give our children my love in my absence.
James
For Immediate Dissemination Unto The Townships of The Kingdom of Lordaeron:
May This Bulletin Serve As Both Warning Unto The General Population of Our Lands, As Well As Writ Of Bounty In Regards To A Most Heinous Orcish Villain and Enemy of The Crown.
It Is To Be Known That A Reward In Sum of No-Less-Than Ten Thousand Gold Coins Shall Be Granted
By The Supreme Commander Of The Alliance, Anduin Lothar Himself, Unto Whosoever Delivers Unto Justice The Identifiable Corpse Of Wolfeye The Doombringer.
Those That Would Seek This Bounty Are Hereby Warned! It Is Said That This Vile Brute Bedecks Himself In The Bloodied Skulls of His Victims and That He Commands A Force Of Foul Orcish Raiders One Hundred Strong!
It Is Advised That Those As Would Seek This Bounty Proceed With Extreme Caution!
Posted By The Order Of
Field Marshall Rorhane
My Emily,
A few short days ago, we broke camp in this Light-forsaken place, operating under the King’s orders to return home. My heart was ligh despite my bleak surroundings, for I knew that after the frigid trek to the shore and long, grueling voyage. I would find solace in your arms.
We reached the shoreline today to find our ships, our means of return, nothing more then charred husks; we cannot leave, and have no choice but to press on into the heart of this abysmal wasteland.
I have gone to the very end of the world to keep you safe, Emily… and now… I wish with all my being that I had remain in Lordaeron with you.
Thoughts of you fill my every waking moment. You are my warmth in the frozen land, beloved, and no one can take that from me.
Maxwell
