I don’t know who my parents are or where I came from. For all I know, I’m not even a real troll. Maybe a half-troll, or a hinterlands troll… I don’t know how people know these things? And I wouldn’t know who to ask… who do you ask about that sort of thing? Maybe a priest… but I don’t want to come to anyone’s… attention.

There’s harpies in Mulgore. I don’t know why. Mulgore seems like a nice place, from what I’ve seen… but there’s harpies there. Periodically, I guess they send people out to try and clean them out. They slaughter a bunch, the harpies fight back, death on both sides, and then numbers build back up. Like rats, I’m told, and not without some pointed staring.

Some Tauren found me in Mulgore in a harpy nest. I was a toddler. Too old to be called an “infant” I guess, but not much for walking. Sitting in one of those big old stick-bundles the harpies hang from the trees. What did they have me for? Why didn’t they kill me? How long was I there? I wish I knew. Some people have hinted at me that I’m half-harpy, that some drunken trolldaddy got it on with a featherchick and here comes I. I don’t believe it. I mean, I don’t… quite… believe it. I don’t have feathers. But why would the harpies have a troll baby? I don’t know.

Do I remember the harpy nest? Not really. Maybe it was so horrible I wiped it out, maybe I was too little, or maybe it was too boring to note. I know I like being up in trees, it feels safe… but is that from the harpies? I know I dream about flying a lot… I know I love riding wyverns and bats when I can scrape together some copper. I don’t think that’s because I’m half-harpy though. Maybe. I don’t know.

The Tauren took me to some orphan lodge because they weren’t sure what to do with me. It wasn’t nice for me there. The Tauren are nice, but they’re very… survival-of-the-fittest. And I’m this scrawny blue thing with this mop of white hair… it didn’t work. No one liked me. And they shipped me back to the trolls as soon as they could… which means the Den with the orcs and such too.

Maybe being with the harpies stunted me. Or maybe, you know, my natural mother left me out for the harpies because I was so… well, such a bad specimen? I don’t know. I do know that I couldn’t keep up with the other kids. Not the trolls, not the orcs. Everyone’s bigger and stronger than me… and everyone loves to have someone to pick on. I’m easy. Especially when I open my mouth. The inside of my mouth is shaped funny, at least, that’s what I’m told. I don’t talk much.

And I’m finally old enough to be on my own. I guess. I don’t know. I don’t feel old enough, but they booted me out all the same. I spent enough time with the books I could find when I was hiding from the others to know that I don’t want to go to Razor Hill or Sen’jin. I can’t keep up with kids my own age. How’m I going to look to a bunch of grownups who want me to… to do things? I don’t know. Not good. And what if they want me to talk?

I know where I can go. I think. The one place in the world populated by people smaller and more pathetic than me. I’m going to keep this journal because… well, not because I think anyone will care, but maybe I can learn enough to be useful. Or maybe when I get killed and eaten by some awful monster, someone will find this journal and at least know that I existed. Sort of.

I’ve got no one to wish me luck, so I wish myself luck. Good luck, Tabi!

First off, I run to Deathknell, which is the, uh… town? Where they train newly… uh… woken up? Freed? Dug up? Undead. It’s actually like, four buildings and a load of scary stuff milling around it. And in it.

The guys inside told me to go fight off the Scourge, they hate the Scourge, good stuff all around. I mean, hey, let’s all hate the Scourge. Except… uh… I almost shot a couple of undead. Actually, I think I did shoot at least one, but he yelled something and I ran and hid in the upstairs of an old building for a while.

How am I supposed to tell the difference between the undead you can kill and the ones you can’t?? There’s this whole load of rotting people milling around, and I’m like… well, shoot them! Except no… not the one in the red dress. Red dress is never a Scourge… which is weird. So I had to sit down and make a list of the ways Scourge-undead are different from Forsaken-undead so I could not-shoot the, uh, good guys.

• Scourge don’t yell when you shoot them, they just kinda lurch at you. This is not a good INITIAL sign, but you know, good confirmation. Forsaken swear at you.
• The Scourgy undead don’t wear clothes really. They’ve just got kinda rags on them. The Forsaken undead are – for the most part, from what I saw – dress-wearing kind of folks.
• Scourgy undead don’t have weapons. They just run around with their hands out.
• Scourgy undead are missing parts. Like, arms and all their skin and stuff.
• Scourgy undead don’t cast spells. Most of the Forsaken undead do.
• And I’d like to note – every undead I saw tonight… uh, possibly not every one, but you know, mostly every one… is a warlock. They all had those little green demony thingies. Does Thrall know that, like, nine out of ten Forsaken come out of their crypt with a demon at their heel? Because it’s unnerving.



So, I kill those bad undead, they’re Sourge and it’s all okay. And I hunt some wolves and bats, uh, I forget why. Anyway, it’s no worse than killing pigs and scorpids back home. I saw a lot of rats running around. They’re cute. I sorta wish I could catch one, but they’re too quick for me. Then one of the Forsaken guardy guys (Deathguards… what kind of scary name is that?? It doesn’t sound like the guy you want to ask for directions!) sends me to kill some Scarlet Crusaders. Apparently, there are humans… camped… RIGHT NEXT to Deathknell. Is that safe?? You’d think one or the other group would have killed each other by now…



Anyway, I went the, like, ten feet it took to get to their camp. And you know, I felt bad. I mean, those are humans… and humans are bad… but they’re thinking people, not mindless zombies or animals. And Deathknell is pretty scary… and it’s HARD to tell the good undead from the bad ones! Yeah, I felt bad about it right up until one of them saw me and came rushing over, blibber-gibbering and whacking at me with his sword. Okay, so I don’t look like an undead! He didn’t even, you know, try to shoo me off! So I kill a lot of them. I like my bow. It lets me kill things without having to deal with them… you know, right in my face. So I steal these papers and the Deathguard sends me to Brill to deliver them. And then another one wants me to … steal pumpkins. What is that?? Why do undead need pumpkins?? To feed their green demony things? So, I guess pumpkins are on my list of things to do. On the way to Brill, I ran into the SCARIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN! And it TALKED to me! I don’t even remember what it wanted, really, I was so freaked out. It’s INSIDES were hanging out!



It showed me some plants and yanked some up, so I yanked some up and ran to Brill and got yelled at for picking them. Then I had to run away from like, two warlocks. I don’t know what they wanted. They were just chasing me around, but they didn’t say anything. I hid in the bushes until they went away… . And it occurs to me, I’m not going to make a lot of friends here if I hide in the bushes every time I see an undead… seeing as how the entire PLACE is undead… I’ve got to try and sleep. This whole place is freaking me out. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here… but Durotar is just so BORING and so full of people who don’t like me. Maybe I’ll go back to Mulgore. Maybe they won’t remember me and since I’m not their responsibility anymore, they won’t have to relocate me again.

You know, just when I thought I was getting used to things here… I’ve been going along, helping out… you know, the Forsaken WANT me to help out. They ask me to do work for them, they don’t call me names or assume that I can’t do it… it was a nice feeling. Okay, so they’re undead, but they’re not any weirder than the rest of us, really… . A bit grim, but you know. They were nice to me, anyway. I figured I was right… this is the perfect place for an outcast to come to rest. Not a single person has asked me what the heck a little troll is doing in Tirisfal, you know that?

I was beginning to appreciate the gloomy beauty of the place, too. Everything in Mulgore and Durotar is so frantic… noisy, bright, everyone’s always running along and there’s all these animals… here in Tirisfal, it’s so quiet. The only animals are the bats, and I love watching them, and the demon-dogs, but I’ve learned to deal with them. And it’s quiet.

Speaking of bats… I made a new friend! I saw him flying around with the others, gleaming softly in the moonlight, not like them. Pale, like me, standing out among the others… he came to me easily, like he knew I wanted to be his friend. He loves mushrooms, which is great, seeing as how that’s most of what the undead eat and they’re all over. I named him Ajitabh, which means “one who has conquered the sky” in the old tongue. I think it fits him. Watching him fly fills me with happiness that I haven’t found anywhere else. Wherever I go, I know Ajitabh is coming with me.

And everything would have been fine… except… I forgot that stupid pumpkin thing the Apothocary sent me to fetch. I was actually doing something else when the undead stuck his head out of his cabin and yelled at me for forgetting. The first time I’ve been yelled at here, the first time I’ve screwed up! I ran to fetch those pumpkins right away! I mean, heck, I think it’s silly that the undead want them, but he obviously wanted them BAD!

In retrospect… I almost wish I hadn’t. Who knew that something like that could happen… from a pumpkin?

I saw what I’d done and I ran. I wasn’t even aware of the running, really, I just had to get out, get away, I mean, killing people is one thing, but turning them into… into something rotten and dying and then… then him falling apart… because I gave him that pumpkin! I ran upstairs, I guess I was going to hide in a wardrobe or under the bed or something, I was that scared. I was wondering about the mushrooms I’d eaten and wondering if the reason no one minded me being here was that I was next, they were going to try it on me… I mean, live person wandering cluelessly around their town, that doesn’t happen too often, I’m the perfect prey! No one would ever miss me!

I don’t know how he knew what was wrong… but there was a man, uh, Forsaken, at the top of the stairs. He caught my arm as I ran past, and I think I screamed. I don’t know how he calmed me down, but he was talking in such a soothing, quiet voice that I had to listen to it. He was so nice to me… sat me down, told me to breathe and hug the bat until I could calm down enough to tell him what was wrong. He didn’t laugh at the way I talk. Then he… explained everything.

It made sense.

The undead here – the Forsaken I mean – they’re so… equal. The ones who were knights and nobles in live, and the ones who were peasants and farmers. Whatever they were, no one cares now. They earn their place. The honor they have now… they earned it from the ground up, not with some stupid birthrank, no one cares what their bloodline was, what their title was… all that matters is… have they contributed.

It doesn’t seem to hurt them, being dead. And of course, he said the Apothocaries would never unleash that “new plague” on anyone else without it being rigorously tested. That’s why they use the Scarlets… they’re mindless bigots, not much better than the Scourge… I mean look at how they attacked me, I never did anything to them. One Scarlet dies, and they refine the medicine further.

Imagine, he told me. No Alliance, no Horde, no factions, no dissenting, no division of power, no splitting of goals. One people, powerful, earning their way through the world, shoulder-to-shoulder against the Burning Leigon, under the vision of the Dark Lady.

Sylvannus really does seem to be the only leader who’s concerned with the Scourge and the Legion. Everyone else is worried about the Alliance, about warlocks (now I feel silly), about former titles in Loraedon, about Alterac Valley resources and who-knows what else. But the danger is still out there, looming. We have to get strong before it comes. And if the only way we can learn to pull together is to suffer one, horrible disaster that will leave us all equal… isn’t that for the best, in the long run?

He sent me to go see the Dark Lady, speak to her myself… in the depths of the Undercity.

I feel like I’m starting on a glorious new journey.

Well, I made my way down into the Undercity. It’s really amazing. All that architecture, the smooth curves of it, the solidity. It’s so much grander and more imposing than Orgimmar or Thunder Bluff, which look put up in a hurry. Orgrimmar in particular is awfully scruffy, and of course, Trolls don’t even HAVE a city, we have to make do with charity from others. The Undercity looks strong and graceful and classy.

Anyway, I went down the Apothocarium, and spoke to Master Apothecary Faranell. I told him what I’d been told and that I wanted to help… that I believed in his work and I wanted to help. He just looked at me, like I was… well, really stupid. Or in his way? You know… disturbing him? First time one of the Forsaken looked at me like that. Then he smiled. It was a really creepy smile, but I can’t hold it against him… I mean, Forsaken. No lips, you know?

He told me I should go and swear fealty to the Dark Lady if that’s what I was looking to do, and that if I swore such an oath in front of Varamithras, I’d be in big trouble if I changed my mind, so I’d best be sure I wanted to do it. Then come back to him and he’d point me in the right direction. I thought about it, but I really really wanted to do this. I feel like I have purpose! Direction! People who want me to help! And besides, it’s for the best cause ever! So I went. I didn’t say much, because I’m sure the Dark Lady has better things to do than listen to people blibbering, but I said the important part.

The Apothecary gave me a few names to look into as far as learning more about the Forsaken while I continue to assist the Apothecary Society. One of them was Septurus, who is apparently quite the lore-master… I don’t know how I’ll work up the courage to approach him, but if I can stand before the Banshee Queen… I can do anything! I’ll keep my eye out for him, anyway, and there’s also supposed to be some sort of informative meeting for young Forsaken tonight, I’ll have to go there too.

I headed back out to Tirisfal, to get the newest work for the Apothecary. Killing spiders is sort of… you know, icky, but he needed the venom for his potions, so out I went. I feel so good! This drive, this sense of purpose, it’s just amazing! And no one here thinks I’m a runty little freak, no one has even mentioned harpies – no one knows! I love it!

So I gave him the venom, and he sent me back into the basement where I’d killed the Scarlet with a new potion, this time for some dwarf they captured. I’ve never seen a dwarf before! I didn’t understand what I was doing the last time…

I do this time. I know that the dwarf is probably going to turn into some sort of undead, and it’s probably going to kill him. That’s okay. It’s the price of science. After all, the sooner I help the Apothecaries come up with a way to turn everyone into Forsaken, the sooner the world can concentrate on the threat of the Scourge.

And the sooner I get to be Forsaken.

This potion didn’t work as well as the last one. You know, dwarves and humans are really dumb. Why would they drink or eat the stuff they’re given? It’s bound to be nothing nice. Anyway, the dwarf just died, he didn’t turn into anything. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

Looks like I’ve finished my work in Tirisfal, at least for now. I’ve been sent on to Silverpine, with a message for the Apothecary there, putting me at his disposal. I’ll be back here tonight for that meeting, but until then… Silverpine, ho! I’m doing the good work of the Lady and it feels great!

So… there was supposed to be a sort of… awakening thing in Gallow’s End. I wanted to see it, you know, kinda just sit and listen… learn more about what it’s like to actually be Forsaken. I know some people lose a lot of their memories when they became undead, but if I don’t, maybe this would help me, you know? Like, if I could see how newly awakened Forsaken feel, it would help me when it’s my turn. I wanted to just sit and listen… out of the way…

But the one throwing the party wouldn’t let me. His name was Vallente, and he was oddly, almost grimly, jolly. It was just him and me… he tried to tell him that the whole undead thing was awful and no one was happy being undead. Well, none of the people who are undead now had a choice in the matter, did they? No one likes being different against their own will… no one likes to have their life’s choices forced on them! It won’t be that way for me, I’m choosing this of my own free will!

We were briefly joined by a warlock… Daer-something… he said he spoke elvish… actually, he implied he was elvish. An undead elvish warlock? Also, he said he got a call on some sort of nether-link and his master was calling and he had to leave. So again… just me and Vallente… with him prying at me and asking me questions. At least he didn’t make fun of my stutter… much.

Pretty soon the bulk of the party arrived… a man named Vannisar, a girl named Velsa, and a very scary woman named Massad. Velsa and Massad are pretty good examples of what I never want to be when I’m undead. Velsa was the meanest one there. She kept calling me “Pulse” and she insulted my ears, and she called Ajitabh a rat and threatened to eat him. She even sort-of threatened me, but I didn’t back down. I know something she doesn’t. I’m useful. I’m working for the Lady. I’m not going to be poked at by someone like Velsa. Not much, anyway.

Massad on the other hand, seemed pretty close to being brain-dead. She had some memories, but mostly she just seemed confused and slow and not really there. She sat with us all the whole time, but she didn’t say much.

That Vannisar was completely a troublemaker. A troll showed up – a big, scary troll, which kinda became a tiresome theme as the night wore on – and I guess Vannisar insulted him. I was trying not to be noticed by the troll, so I didn’t hear what was said, I was getting on the other side of the room because the angry troll pulled out his weapons and threatened Vannisar and bellowed at him that if he was brave, he’d meet him outside. Vannisar’s response to that was to hide, so that answered that. We all went to sit on the other side of the room until the troll went away.

Funny thing… I tried to ask them if they knew where I could find loremaster Septurus and Vannisar whispered in my ear that I didn’t want to find him. When I asked him why, he said some questions shouldn’t be answered. Also, he said that I didn’t hear it from HIM. So… hmm… who to listen to. Those who value my work and want me to grow in the world, or a coward who hides from people he’s insulted until they go away and won’t even admit he said something bad about someone? Well… not a hard choice.

Then another troll showed up… like I said, theme. This one was in a dress though, and they called her “Dean Saffiy.” I don’t know why trolls kept coming to this, wasn’t it supposed to be for undead? She kinda sat there and listen to everyone telling stories… then she sort-of told like, a little fraction of a story. Velsa left, she was mad there were so many live people at the party. And Vallente made me put Ajitabh outside, I guess he was annoying or something.

The last troll of the night who showed up… I’m still kinda shocked… is apparently… uh, the lover of an undead girl who showed up. I forget her name, but the troll was Ghurab. And I don’t think he’s working for the Lady like I am, because when I started sort of trying to talk about how I feel about the undead… the girl got all upset. So I don’t know why in the world a troll would want to hook up with an undead girl, if he’s not looking to become like her… I just don’t know. It was too weird.

Anyway… I didn’t learn much, and the undead were really pretty mean to me. It was like being back in the Den… it was awful. Like making fun of me was the party entertainment. But I have to hold to my guns… I have to stand true. I have a purpose. I’m not some random toy for them to poke at. I’ll be strong someday, I’ll know things, I’ll the one of the ones honored for helping the new world to come to pass.

THEN they’ll be sorry.

So much to do!

My new work in Silverpine – most of which isn’t for the Apothecaries anymore, but they seem to have their hands full with all the stuff I already brought them. Plus, anytime I find anything that I think is odd, I bring it to them. They’ve got loads of stuff now… sticky plants and poison glands and all sorts of things! I hope they can find some use out of it… I’m not sure if the Apothecary thinks that I’m helpful or, you know… a bit retarded or overzealous. Anyway, he still takes the things I bring, so that’s good enough for me.

I’ve developed a real hatred for werewolves, I think. Especially those big brown ones that wander all over. I didn’t it was possible for werewolves to be as fanatically mouth-breathing freaky as the Scarlets are, but it is! I’ve had a couple pop up out of nowhere, spewing garbage about the “Sons of Arugal will always win!” Rah! Okay then…. I can kill you with a bow and a pet bat, your chances for world domination aren’t great!

None of the undead really talk to me, which is fine with me… I’m busy doing my work. I’ve seen a couple or Tauren or orcs running around too, but thankfully not many trolls. The one troll I did see – put his hand on my… on my butt! He did! I’ve never ever ever ever had anyone touch me like that before! I kinda freaked out on him and hit him in the head with my bow and then Ajitabh flapped his wings in his face and clawed him and he went away. That was the grossest thing ever, even grosser than watching that Scarlet rot away from the poison pumpkin! My butt still feels like it’s got a slimy handprint on it!

At the end of the night, I was returning to the Sepulcher for some rest and I saw two Forsaken and two Tauren sitting at a campfire talking. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard one of the Forsaken say that it bothered him that the Lady keeps a demon as her consort. I couldn’t help but scowl at that – no one, especially not the Forsaken! – should criticize Lady Sylvannus!!

I guess they saw me listening because they waved me over. I went and sat with them. The girl Forsaken didn’t have any eyes (I’m noticing more and more Forsaken like this, but it doesn’t seem to stop them moving around) and the guy said his name was Petir… Plowman? Plowshare? Something like that. The big grey Tauren was Ashoof? And I didn’t catch the other Tauren’s name, but he kept patting Ajitabh and the blind Forsaken girl until she got mad and came to sit by me.

They were discussing the Lady’s plan in a very… distrustful way. I tried to defend her, but when you defend someone, well, they want answers… that I didn’t want to give to the Tauren. The Tauren are all … respect for life, not wasting dead things, also worshipping their ancestors. I don’t think the Tauren would like it if they thought that the Lady’s plans would, well… stop them from BECOMING ancestors, really. I mean, if they don’t die, they won’t be ancestor spirits, and who will be around to worship them?

So I kinda… well, only told half the truth. I talked about the Apothecaries making the New Plague to make the elves and dwarves and humans into Forsaken so that we could stop having a war with the Alliance to split our attention from the Scourge and Legion. Someone made some dumb comment about how that wouldn’t work because there’ d be no babies being born, and the Legion is unlimited and there’s too many of them. That’s just stupid, because babies don’t grow up fast enough to replace dead people on the battlefield anyway.

OH! I found out you CAN kill a Forsaken, if you completely destroy their body, good to know! Still, better to staff the battlefield with people that have to be completely destroyed to die, than the Tauren and humans and all that you can just shoot in the head, right?

Anyway, once the Tauren went away I could talk more openly to the Forsaken there. I told them that, as I understand it, yeah the Trolls and Tauren and Orcs are going to get plague’d once the Alliance is finished. After all, why would the Lady leave them to their own devices once the Alliance has been added to the Forsaken? The Tauren were all “we’re worried about her plans once she’s defeated the Alliance,” and I didn’t want to point out that they reallly don’t have to worry about it. They’re so naive.

It’s all for the greater good. Petir seemed to understand that. Apparently he chose not to fight the plague when he got it. But before, submitting to the plague was just submitting to the Lich King. Now, it’s submitting to a higher good. It’s the only way to unite the races. I’ve listened to so much chest-beating… even the Horde can’t get along with their own people, and I’m sure it’s the same in the Alliance. There are Tauren who don’t like Cairne, Orcs who work against Thrall. The only way to defeat the Scourge and Legion will be to stand completely united… and to do that, we have to BE united.

I told Petir I will become a Forsaken willingly once the plague is finished… I hope to say I might actually have done enough good work for the Apothecaries to earn the right to be one of the first. He said to make sure that I’ve lived first, because the Forsaken aren’t really alive. I say, anything that moves and thinks and speaks and feels is alive, plenty alive.

Besides, I’ve never felt so alive in my life as I have since I dedicated myself to death.

Having finished much of my work in Silverpine and having my bags completely loaded with leather and other assortments, I returned to the Sepulcher. In fact, from there I returned to Razor Hill, where I had to go if I wanted training, since no one in the Undercity will train a hunter. On my way to my trainer this… orc grabbed my arm. He was big, really big, of course, all orc guys are, and he thrust this letter into my hands and said:

“There! Now you’ve been recruited! You’re in the Horde army now, missy, report to the Crossroads at once!”

What?! Is that legal?! I got drafted, and I’m BUSY! I’m trying to do the Dark Lady’s work in Silverpine, but you know, you can’t say things like that to some crazy orc recruiter… the guy’s eyes were like little coals, and he shook me a little, like he could see I was thinking of just burying that letter in the graveyard and running back to Silverpine.

“Look, missy, I’m sendin’ a letter ahead on you! If’n you don’t show up, there’ll be a world of hurt for ya! How’d you like to go to prison as a deserter, eh? How about that? Git yerself on down to them Crossroads and WORK for the Horde!”

Well, what if he does? I mean… the mail’s pretty fast! Way faster than I can run!

So… I got my training and ran down to the Barrens. Uh… doubletime, I think they call it.

Note: Ajitabh doesn’t seem really fond of all this heat and sunlight… honestly, neither do I. I miss the soft green light of Tirisfal and Silverpine, the shadowy moon and blunted sun… out here, everything’s so exposed, so burnt… . I’m not a fan.

I was pretty sure I was going the right way, when I spotted this orc kid. He was adorable, his little tusks jutting out of his mouth, fishing pole in hand, little worg behind him… honestly, I don’t like kids, but that one… he was so cute. I tried to get his attention, make sure I was going the right way… but he ran away. Wouldn’t even turn around. I know I’m not scary, so all I can guess is that even baby orcs have better things to do than be polite to me.

Well, fine. We’ll see how he feels when he’s undead. And I won’t be mad at him then, I’ll be helpful, I’ll be one of the ones who understands what’s going on, I can guide the others into their new lives. Then we’ll see who ignores me.

It wasn’t too long until I could actually see the Crossroads. No surprise there, really. The entire Barrens is so flat, you can see things from a long, long way off, and think you’re a lot closer than you are. You run and run and think, “you know, I can SEE it, I know it wasn’t this far away!”

And lo and behold, upon first stepping into the Crossroads, who should I meet??

There’s an Apothecary IN the Crossroads! Right in the center of Horde life, right where all the recruits get sent, right where most of the young Hordelings are… RIGHT THERE! Working for the Lady, gathering information and reagents, working under that awful sun which is so nasty if you’ve spent time in the Forsaken lands… what a good, dedicated man, to do that! But of course, the Apothecaries are dedicated to their tasks. I’m so happy- that I don’t have to get thrown in prison for desertion to keep working for the Apothecaries! He loaded me up with tasks right away – maybe he’s heard of me?

Anyway, I went and turned in my recruiting letter, and do you know… she didn’t care! She wasn’t expecting me, she didn’t know me… she tossed my letter in a pile of letters and said, “Great, ANOTHER troll. Find something to do.”

SOME ARMY!

THIS is the mighty Horde, huh?

We NEED the Lady’s cure. Now.

There was plenty to do here though. As long as the Apothecaries have work for me, I’ll stay. I was carrying a crate from the Apothecary to some goblin out in Ratchet when I saw… an elf. My first elf, actually.

I didn’t see him close up, but he was a hunter, like me, though he had one of those stripy cats that I’ve heard all elves have, like they’re born in a little with them or something, like ALL elves have a stripy cat. A cat, and a bow, and you’re ready to hunt! I followed him around for a little while… but he didn’t do anything. And pretty much ignored me. It’s great, baby orcs and the Alliance won’t even notice me. Only the Forsaken have given me the time of day.

The Barrens DOES have one great thing though… gazelles. They’re so beautiful. They’re all bony limbs and big eyes, and yet they’re so graceful and free. And you never see one alone, they’re always with their families. I thought about taming a baby as a pet, but I know that would have been wrong, taking it away from its family, so I left it. Babies shouldn’t be taken away from their families.

… anyway. My work for the Apothecaries led me back… to Mulgore. Mulgore, where I haven’t been in years, since I was found and stuffed in that orphan-lodge for a few weeks. Mulgore, where I came from, somehow.

Where is my mother? Where is my father? How did I end up where I was? How can I find out? Should I seek out a shaman or a fortune-teller to ask them? Or should I forget it? I know I’ll never find out once I become Forsaken, and I won’t care. Should I try and find out while I still do care?

It was tempting to try and find the nest where I was, to shake it apart until it yielded me some clues, to scream at the harpies and tear their feathers out and their skin off until they tell me whether one of them is my mother or where they found me… but I don’t… I have… work. I’m busy. I have work. I have work. I can’t. I have to work.

I turned away from the sticks and the feathers and kept going. It was hard at first. My feet didn’t want to work, not in this direction, not back to the Tauren, not away from those nests… but I had to. I have work.

And you know what I found out? There’s an Apothecary research place – actually, a whole Forsaken “nest” – in Thunder Bluff. Under it. Under the SPIRIT Rise! Doesn’t that seem like a fine joke? The Forsaken are down there, working for the preservation of all the spirits of the Horde and Alliance, in death, right below the Shamans who are worshipping the ancestors of the Tauren.

Well, the ancestors must not be very smart. Or see much. You’d think they’d warn the Tauren about those Forsaken. But maybe they WANT it to happen? Maybe they know it’s all for the best too! Maybe!

I’ll have to think about that. Yes, I will. Think long and hard.

My trip to Ratchet to drop off supplies for the Apothecary led me to Stonetalon, as the goblin I spoke to there asked me to pick him up some spider-parts up there. I figured I could grab some extras for the Apothecaries while I was up there, and anything else interesting that I might come across, the way I used to do in Silverpine. The Tauren who was standing by the entrance asked me if I would… as long as I was going in there anyway… kill some Tauren for him.

This gave me pause. I mean, I thought that was troll stuff – one clan wiping out another clan, thinking the other clan is wrong and evil and doing the wrong thing so they have to die. This Tauren said that the other Tauren – the Grimtotems – burned his village and killed his people and his daughter and he’s the only one left, so would I mind killing a few to get his revenge?

I’m little. I’m a girl. I’m a little troll girl with an albino bat. I have no idea why this big strong Tauren guy thinks that I can do what he can’t seem to manage to do. Why doesn’t he get up off his butt and kill the Grimtotem, if that’s what he wants to do? But I’m heading in that direction. If I see them, I tell him, and if they bother me, I’ll do what I can.

They got in my way. I killed as many of them as I could reach, and with a bow, that’s a pretty long reach. I piled their bodies up on the ground. It felt good. It felt like power. It felt like taking back myself for every bit that other people have pried away and dented and peeled off and destroyed. It felt right.

I found their leader and his wife, and I killed them both. I left their bodies smoking on their own hearthfire. I wonder if the Tauren at the entrance knew this would be what happened when he asked me to come kill the Grimtotem. The smell was rank. And in the back of their home, I found the Tauren’s daughter. She wasn’t dead, she’d been captured. She saw me standing there with the Grimtotem blood all over me and asked me for help. Wanted me to walk her out of the camp. Really, it’s a good thing she had those white spots, otherwise I might have shot her before she had time to ask me for help.

I walked her out of the camp, and over the rim of the Grimtotem encampment, I could see her village. Skeletal, burnt out, bodies and bones everywhere, destroyed. I started to wonder what she’d do when she saw it. I stared to wonder if she’d cry, or scream, or what. I started to wonder if I wouldn’t be kinder to just put an arrow in her right now.

We got down to the village – fought our way there – and she looked around. With perfectly still, blank eyes. It was like looking into pools of dark water at night. Reflecting everything, showing no depths. They were the eyes of someone who is living in death. They were like Forsaken eyes. She asked me to tell her father she had escaped… and she walked away. I raised my bow to put an arrow into her back… but I couldn’t fire it. I couldn’t make myself let go of the string. She was over the hills and out of sight. I lowered my bow.

I’m not ready yet. I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough yet. I have work. I have work to do.

I kept going down the road, and I found a village of trolls. They were as vile as trolls have always been to me. They poked fun of me, sent me off to gather stuff for them like I was nothing but their errand-girl. They didn’t ask, they told. And in a cave in the back, they were keeping elves.

The troll in the cave gave me all sorts of lists of crap he wants to poison them with. It made me angry. He’s like the Apothecaries – with his victims locked up, experimenting, mixing potions and poisons – except he’s NOT. He’s NOT! He’s not poisoning them for any greater good, he has no purpose, no plan. He just wants to hurt them. Because they’re elves. Because they’re alliance. Because he’s angry. There’s no purpose in that! There’s nothing great about it!

I’m going to gather what he wants, watch him mix it, and then jam it down his throat.

I was too angry to think. I couldn’t get things done. I went back to Ratchet to drop off the spider things, and took the boat. I didn’t know where it went. It took me to a place called Booty Bay, which is even sunnier than the Barrens, but warmer and softer, less glaring and flat, with a bunch of green jungle curling all over it.

Something was shouting from the goblin-statue-island, but it didn’t actually sound friendly, so I decided not to play with it. I walked around Booty Bay for a while, and found a goblin selling birds in little cages. I made him set one loose for me, and paid him for it.

The jungle says something to me. I know my troll-half (if I’m half-troll) is from here, but what does that mean? Why does that matter?

I’m watching the sun set over the water.

Odd night. Very odd night.

Upon opening my eyes, I immediately was being pestered by that Forsaken rogue, Vannisar. He was one of the meanest ones to me at that awakening party Vallente held, but now he wanted my help. And what help? Of all things, he wanted me to spy on Vallente. Vallente has been kind to me, in a rough sort of way, moreso than any of the others I’ve met traveling around. Also, Vannisar was the one who warned me against Septurus after the Apothecaries pointed me in that direction.

He not only wanted me to spy on Vallente, and pump him for information, but the priestess Raenne too. Now, that’s safe!

He told me that Vallente and Raenne are making up lies about his (Vannisar’s) King Iorost and Queen Achika. (Has anyone besides me noticed how many “Queens” and such the Horde has? Sylvannus seems to tolerate them, so I’ll let them be, but it seems cheap and ungrateful to me.) He said that they were making up lies about Iorost to take him away from Achika and his followers, and that I should ask Vallente to tell me stories and then get information from him on what he’s planning with Iorost.

Oddly enough… it worked perfectly. But that’s getting ahead… .

I was intrigued. I’m tired of being on the fringes of everything. I’m tired of being no one. I’m useful! I’m growing powerful! And Vannisar is right that I would make a good spy – who in the world would suspect me? No one takes me seriously, except the Apothecaries. The only trouble with Vannisar’s plan was… I wasn’t going to be his spy. No way. So I sent Vallente a message and went to meet him in Brill.

It was fun to mess with his head. I told him that someone had asked me to spy on him and pump him for information. Him and Raenne both, actually. And the funny thing is… he thought Saffiy sent me? I asked him about that, much later, and he said it was because Saffiy suspects certain things, and he tends to associate trolls with trolls, orcs with orcs, etc. Now he knows better.

He was pretty much thrown when I told him it was Vannisar who wanted me to pump him for information. Since he had a meeting planned with Vannisar in a few minutes! He was wearing a, um, “great coat” that looked a lot like a robe. At first, he pretty much dismissed me to go my way, thanks for helping, and why don’t you shoo now? I was so mad. I mean, I could have just showed up and talked to him and tried to trick him, but I didn’t, I didn’t betray him, I came to help, and he treated me like… a delivery girl, handing him his note and then scurrying away. Oooh, I was mad. There was a time when Tabi could be treated like that, but now is not that time. I am far more than I was! I burned down a Grimtotem village! I don’t have to put up with this stuff!

Anyway, I think he realized finally that I wasn’t to be taken lightly, and asked me to wait until he finished talking to Vannisar. It was very interesting to listen to.

Basically, he told Vannisar flat-out that he was going to kill… Vorenyth, who I gathered from context was a demon. The demon seemed very un-fond of both Septurus and Vallente, which told me I’d backed the right pony. He also told Vannisar that as far has he was concerned, his (Vann’s) whole guild was collateral. He did, however, say that he was going to save Achika from Vorenyth, but that Iorost was beyond saving. Wow. That’s some brutal honesty. Not sure what it all meant yet, I just filed it away. You can’t know too much.

Then Vallente turned back to me. We left Vannisar sitting out alone by the tree. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I meant to play my part, make him think I was doing his will.

… I don’t think Vannisar’s very good at this. I mean, Vallente says that he’s been driven mad by the influence of Vorenyth, but… why send me to pump Vall for information and then sit there with us, hearing everything that I would be there to hear for him? He was rude to some Tauren who came by wanting to sit with us, then he started to fight with this odd Forsaken priest who also came to sit nearby. Actually, I think Vall and I ended up having most of our conversation, the important part anyway, whispering. It caused some snide comments, the two of us sitting there with our head together like that for so long, I can tell you.

By the way… just to add to the utter strangeness of the night… Vallente says I’m gorgeous. Actually, he said it several times. And a lot of other less-respectful things. About the way the dress gives me curves and about repaying me for “pumping” him for information by returning the favor. On the bearskin rug in the middle of the tavern, actually. At first I was mad that he would say things like that. I hate being made fun of, I know that I am scrawny and skinny and not at all like a real troll girl. But you know, I decided to kinda roll with it. It was kinda fun to play along, like he meant it, and shoot him down as if I didn’t mean it. After all, he’s either trying to tease me (which by the end of the night, I don’t think anymore) or he was trying to seduce me to make sure I’m on his side (which is possible) or he just feels sorry for me (which is also possible, but I like that least.) Either way, it ended up just the two of us in the tavern eventually, me whispering questions and him telling me these tales and the occasional flirt going back and forth.

But you know, maybe I don’t look that bad to a Forsaken. I mean, my bones aren’t showing, and if I’m skinny, well, I’m not as skinny as they are, right! I’ve got better hair than Forsaken girls do, that’s for sure! Anyway, I don’t have time to think like that, really… .

What Vallente told me is that he’s from a long line of demon-killers from Dalaran, the Netherbloods, who came into existence to take care of demonic servants who were loose around the world. He’s the last, and it’s not like he can have children anymore, so he’s found a ritual that will let him pass on some of the abilities to another if he wants. He apparently removed a shard of Varimithraas’ consciousness from that troll, Ghurab (yes, the one with the undead girlfriend I met before!) I’m not sure I buy that Varimithraas was actually in the mind of any old Troll – “he’s bored, he’s not the Lady’s lapdog” isn’t a very good explanation for why he’d expose himself like that – but the fact remains that Ghurab had SOME demon taint in his mind that was driving him mad. Vallente, helped by a couple of orcs – one named Teng Darkheart, I’ve heard that name somewhere – to drive the demon force out of Ghurab.

As for Iorost, apparently he’s been possessed and his mind consumed by a demon named Vorenyth. Vallente’s been asked to help take care of the demon, but apparently they didn’t realize that would entail, well, pretty much destroying Iorost, since he’s lost to the demon. It was a very interesting bit of listening that I did, and I think I’ve learned more than a little. I don’t know what I’ll do with any of it… but hey. You can’t know too much.

Heading back out to get some work done (and filing this all in my head for careful, careful examination later) I ran into another Tauren who wants me to go on a killing spree. I mean, really. I thought Tauren were all peaceloving? Piss one off, and he’ll stop any random stranger to demand mass-murder of the offending race. This time, it’s dwarves. I’ll do that when I have time, I guess.

Back in Stonetalon, gathering eyes from coursers and sap from sap beasts for that troll’s poison. Boy, isn’t he going to be surprised when he’s the one who eats it? I really can’t wait. See how he likes it.

Finally, having gathered all my eyes and being really too tired to do anymore, I headed back to Sun Rock to the inn… and met a Forsaken warrior by the mailbox. He gave me things, though he wouldn’t say who sent him. He said his name was Olm of Lordaeron, and he gave me some armor and two beautiful daggers that I need to learn to use right away. The only thing is… he said not to let innocent blood stain them.

Excuse me? Who’s innocent? If I’ve run into any innocent in my wanderings, it was just that Tauren girl whose village was burned, and I couldn’t manage to kill her. I don’t know anyone who’s innocent… everyone’s doing something awful, something nasty, behind everyone’s back. It was pretty easy to promise I wouldn’t kill anyone innocent with them.

It’s been a huge day, I’ve learned a lot, and now I have so much interesting stuff to think about and roll around in my head… I think I might look up that Saffiy. See what classes there are for someone like me. After all, if she’s keeping an eye on people… it’s not a bad idea to keep an eye on her.

My first task of the night: go to Ashenvale and steal some of the elves’ sacred water from the dryads there. The problem is that in order to steal the water, I have to kill some dryads. Now, I’ve read the scrolls in the druid halls of Thunder Bluff… and supposedly Cenarius taught the Tauren how to be druids, then the elves. Aren’t the dryads the children of Cenarious? Why are the Tauren druids sending me to kill their teacher’s children, just to get some water? Can’t they just ask the dryads for it? I’m starting to think that out of all the tribes in the Horde, the Tauren are the most bloodthirsty. Even the Forsaken never sent me to kill anyone who didn’t deserve it.

The Forsaken, who are supposed to be callous, emotionless, bloodthirsty and evil, sent me to kill Scourge and the Scarlet Crusaders, who seem to be on everyone’s hitlist, if the constant stream of Alliance slaughtering them in their Monastary are any indication.

The Tauren, on the other hand, want me to kill all sorts of sentient life. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, other Tauren, the sacred beasts of Ashenvale… now the children of their ancient teacher. I’m starting to wonder whether I really feel all that badly that the Tauren won’t get to be anyone’s ancestor after the Apothecary’s Cure comes. I really am.

All the same, I never unsheathed my daggers while I killed the dryads. Olm might be pleased.

I didn’t have to kill many of them before the phial I was looking for was found, and I was glad of that. On my way out of their area, I was set upon by spiders… and surprisingly, an elf helped me. A druid, no less.

I felt… guilty. I knew she wouldn’t have helped me if she’d known I’d peppered a few of her kin just over the next hill. Yet this elf definitely saved me… I was glad to get the task over with. I got my water and headed on to other things. I’m trying not to think about this too much.

With my dress, the lady Raenne had sent a short note, inviting me to seek a home if I could believe in the Prophesy. Now, I had no idea what that prophesy might be, but she invited me to seek out some of her compatriots, and I did. Her Nether mage — her second in command, a warlock — brought myself, a Forsaken priestess, and an orc warlock (and is it just me, or are orc warlocks the most forgetful and short-sighted creatures in the WORLD? Haven’t they learned not to play with demons?? If anyone should know better… . ) to an island in the center of a lake. This lake was… full of… plant monsters. They kept climbing onto the island and trying to eat us. The warlock’s demons kept them in check, but it was still unnerving, to say the least. Ajitabh was barely held in check the entire time, his whole being was trembling with a need to fight or fly. Bats are very high-strung at the best of times.

The Nether mage explained the purpose of the Twilight Prophesy to me, though I didn’t hear an actual prophesy as such. They seek a balance between Shadow and Light, to walk a true twilight path. It was a sort of revelation to me. That’s exactly what I am doing! Seeking that balance between the horror and death and darkness of death and the healing Light. To put things in order. To turn away from petty dividing concerns and to a deeper unity. I wanted to speak of these things, but not in front of the Orc… the living rarely like to hear about death, I remember how afraid I was when I first came to Tirisfal. He dismissed the other two to speak with me.

I explained my position — how I did want a fellowship like that and how I was sworn to a path like that, but that I was already sworn to assist the Apothecaries. He said he didn’t know what I meant, about the Apothecaries… but I think he was testing me. Wanting to see how much a troll girl could know about those inner workings. When I told him what I know, he was surprised, but I think he was pleased by my answers.

It occurs to me that people might think that I’m dong this work to get back at all the live people who snubbed me. That isn’t true! It would taint my whole work if I hated the living! I don’t hate them, I feel really sorry for them now. They don’t know! They’re afraid to die, they don’t realize the glorious sacrifice that’s theirs to make. I feel humble that I know what’s coming, that I can aid it in my small way, that I have time to be proud of what I’m giving up.

So now, I’m officially a member of the Twilight Prophesy. I won’t let any of them down, these Forsaken who’ve shown this confidence in me. The Prophesy, the Apothecaries, or the Dark Lady herself.

Well, I had one more task to undertake before I could sleep. I had to tame a certain bird, to learn a new attack for my Ajitabh… unfortunately, that bird ONLY lives in Westfall! To get to that little human enclave, I would have to run through the jungle of Stranglethorn Vale, through the cursed Duskwood, and then track down the bird in Westfall.

First, to Grom’gol… .

Then running through the jungle, trying not to damage my equipment. My black dress let me blend into the shadows and avoid the giant raptors and tigers that are practically EVERYWHERE in that place! I saw some old Troll ruins, but I couldn’t stop to look at them. Not that I’m interested in old Troll stuff anyway. That’s the past.

From Stranglethorn I headed up into Duskwood… the place is surprisingly similar to Tirisfal. Darker, without the soft green glow, and much more oppressive and claustrophobic. But there was a feeling of… ruination and the presence of the Scourge here too.

Again, an elf. They’re everywhere! I thought this warrior on his giant cat might menace me, or hurt me… but he just stared at me until I went my way. Are the elves all so apathetic, or do they think I’m small and harmless, or do they not care about human land? I remember the elves in the cages… just sitting, not trying to break out, not pleading for help. Has the elves’ immortality made them so old that their spirits are all used up?

I found a place called Raven Hill, which really could almost have been Brill. Except Brill is better maintained, more lively, and has made some effort. This place had nothing but some insane human running circles around a well, over and over and over. What’s wrong with these humans? Don’t they even care? A bunch of dead men and woman make more of an effort to cling to civilization and life than the people in Duskwood! Tirisfal had the fall of Lordaeron, the Plague, the Scourge, the Plaguelands on the border, the invasion of the Crusade… what’s Duskwood’s excuse? Why don’t they DO something about it?

Finally, I made it to Westfall… and it’s nothing. Insane machines tooling around empty fields. Ruined and empty farms. Murders and gnolls roaming the roads. Oh, and the scary birds I wanted, carrion flesheaters, flapping around and savaging the living and the dead. Westfall is a wasteland. How can the Alliance claim to be better than the Horde? I see more and more the wisdom of the Apothecary’s Cure. These people are aimless and drifting and degenerating by the hour.

The only real settlement in Westfall… a couple of wagons, a campfire, and a broken down tower. Pathetic. The Horde — none of whom have had more than a few measly, hunted years to build or rebuild anything — are doing better than these people. They need a real Queen.

Back through Duskwood, and on the road I met what seemed to be a priest. She didn’t dress like a mage, and she jabbered on at me with such ferocity I thought she must be trying to convert me or something. I tried to explain to her that I was only here to get that bird, but she jabbered on. Finally, I waved and took my leave. Maybe she was insane, like the man circling the well.

I found one empty house on the edge of Darkshire, and went inside. I don’t know where the owner was — maybe he was dead, maybe he just stepped out for a piss and got eaten by one of those sons of Arugal that wander Duskwood (another way it resembles Forsaken lands.) It was warm, but empty. The rug on the floor seemed to warn me, get out while you can.

I hearthstoned home. I wonder how Vallente is doing? I should try and find him again. I’d like to see what he thinks of all this. The blind priestess in the Twilight Prophesy was talking about how she, like the humans, finds it hard to tell the Scourge from the Forsaken, and that the Forsaken have unfortunately similar aims. I disagree. I wonder if she’s mad, or if she really believes that life is better off living in squalor in Sen’jin or Westfall than in focusing its efforts on the Scourge. I need to talk to someone. I have to write that Septurus a letter, or talk to Vallente maybe, he’s surprisingly clever. How can a Forsaken compare herself to the Scourge? I don’t know.