The forming of Prima Nocte
_The Storming of Lordaeron and the Founding of Prima Nocte
The day when we all took upon us the burden of a dead lord’s last wish.
It was supposed to be a happy day. Not a day of mourning. The thrice cursed prince Arthas had just returned from his campaign against the scourge in the north and all of Lordaeron was united in celebration. In every window you would find a youngster throwing out flowers until the streets were covered by a multi coloured carpet. I, too, was out on the streets. My comrades were with me as well. We had been given a special leave from our duties guarding Lord Proudmoore. No, not the famous Admiral. This one was just a nephew of his. But nevertheless Aurellian Proudmoore was our master and not a bad one I might add. The old man was always kind to his subjects. If he hadn’t been he wouldn’t be dead now.
So those of us who had been given a leave were having a good time at an oft visited tavern when the nightmare began. Panic erupted on the streets as the news spread of cursed Arthas treachery and of the scourge beginning its assault against the walls. Soon the palace burned and the streets were crawling with the living dead.
I and my comrades were desperately trying to reach our lords fortress before the undead but we had to fight every step of the way and when we finally arrived we found the gates broken. Doubling our efforts we rushed through the chaos inside looking for our lord. We found him in his audience chamber together with the rests of the guards who had stayed. Ghouls were festering on their broken carcasses, even when some where still alive. Among them our lord. He was beyond rescue having suffered a mortal wound. He had realised this himself and stopped us from carrying him away and told us that we should run away. Leave Lordaeron alive and correct his past mistake so that he could rest in peace. All of us had sworn an oath to protect him and we reaffirmed that it should be binding us even in the afterlife. With a smile on his face our lord and master died. We left in all haste through the streets, joining up with others fleeing the city.
We ended up in a refugee camp with the other survivors. There we stayed for some years, helping the sick and wounded who arrived in a never-ending stream. During this time we met others who joined in our endeavour.
The task placed upon us? To hunt down and kill Aurellian Proudmoores children. He never had any children with his wife who died early from the plague. And he never married another woman. All of his children where conceived through Prima Nocte. A tradition giving him the right to the first night with every newly wed woman under his lordship. Apparently the old bull claimed his right quite often, producing a bunch of illegimate offspring. And in all of them ran the powerful blood of the Proudmoores. This offspring has since been turned to the scourge and to think of the power they will be able to wield if and when they master the dark arts is almost beyond understanding. That’s why we have to hunt them down before they or the scourge realize their full potential. We took the name of Prima Nocte, a constant reminder of the cause that spawned our oath and as a warning to those we seek.
And now the time of reckoning is at hand. It has been two days since we left the refugee camp and marched towards Stormwind. When we reach the city, our quest will truly begin.
Grudgekeeper of Prima Nocte_