The tales of a mage
What am I?
What do I remember.. and what is nothing more than a fabric of my imagination..?
What have I done...?
What have I become?
These are the questions I ask myself every day.. every "living" moment...
What I were.. That is a question that I have had in my mind for far to long. Up until recently
these questions were the true curse I was suffering from.. but now.
It all began with a ghost I found in the Eastern Plaugelands.. it was a small girl.. seemingly unaware of her current state. She asked me to help her find her family... after I had taken her to her "family" she told me.
"Seek the ruins of magic... they hold the secrets of memory lost".
At first I dismissed these words. But one day, as I were riding through the Hillsbrad in search for peace of mind.. I stumbled over some ruins.. the ruins of Dalaran. And for some reason I recalled the words of the child.. I immediately started searching... and made a stunning discovery... As I removed the rotting woodwork of what once had been a sturdy chest.. I uncovered a small tome.
"Diary of Hiera Weathermoon".
And I immediately recognised it as my own. For the first time since my death.. I now knew my name.. my true name. I remained silent for hours... sitting there, with the old tome in my hands. I dared not to open it. For I knew what rested within its bindings. I left the ruins, taking the tome with me. It had had been laying on my workdesk for some time before I opened it. Its old bindings made a cracking sound as I opened it. At first I stared emptily at the pages.. only looking at the writings.. not daring to read them.. I was afraid.. afraid of what I had lost.. But finally.. I took the courage to read the first few words. I remained in my study for days.. reading this small tome.. treating it with more care and respect I ever had treated any of the great Librams of Arcana that I have studied.
Finally I had answers to the curses that had been haunting me for so long... I had uncovered some of the truths about my past. I now knew who I had been.. what I had lost. And not only what this curse had made of me.
I was human, a proud woman. I was a Mage of Dalaran... But more so, I was a sister, a wife.. a mother..
My husband.. I do not know his name, and fate it seems.. have erased all traces of it in this tome. What it does mention is this. He was a sergeant in the Lorderonian army. He was a true warrior, a great leader for his men.. but also a good, gentle and caring husband.
The following is the stories told by.. my .. old diary.. That of it which were still readable that is.
About four years before the scourge came and declared war upon all living, we were on a small trip in the Hillsbrad. We visited the Alterac Valey.. a truly beautiful place in the spring. And at a secluded spot near a pond we made our rest. We could hear the singing of mountain birds, the light steps of the small forest animals searching for food. Out of the blue.. he proposed to me..
I could not have been more shocked over the sudden proposal.. nor more happy either. One month later we were husband and wife.. and during the spring of the following year, I gave birth to a girl. What she was named.. is also lost.. as if some wicked joke made by some higher being.. I will never know what happened to her.. nor if she is still alive, forsaken, dead.. or.. scourge.. No.. I do not even want to know.
About 5 moths before the war broke out I was rewarded for my discipline and skill... I were promoted to Warden Mage of Dalaran.. I were one of the few mages who were responsible to keep the arcane wards surrounding Dalaran intact. When the war broke out my husband were called to war. He was sent to help the defences in Stratholme. The evening he left would be the last time I saw my loved one... two weeks had passed.. and news of Stratholmes fall reached Dalaran... "no survivors" they said. I wished to go to Stratholme to search for myself.. but that would mean leaving my child behind.. that was something I could not do.
A week later.. we heard that Andorhal had fallen. And that the scourge were advancing upon Dalaran. One morning I received orders to go out with a group of warwizards and guardsmen to search out a area in the woods believed to be a scourge stronghold. I knew that the mission was highly dangerous. So I asked some of my fellow Wardens to take care of my daughter while I was gone.
But apparently.. I did not return...This is where the tome stops. Me having lost my loved husband to the scourge.. and leaving my daughter behind as an orphan.
Not long ago I got a mission from Nathanos Blightcaller, the ever arrogant and sadistic Champion of the Banshee Queen, may maggots consume whatever there is left in his skull someday. He wanted me to slay what had stolen his human form so long ago. The abomination known as "Ramstein the Gorger"... It was with a reluctant step I strode into Stratholme.. The place were crawling with all kinds of scourge.. from feeble skeletal magus, the flying gargoyles, to the powerful abominations. But whatever we call them.. they are still the scourge. And it should be cut down like the weed they are. And so we set to work. The streets were soon filled with the broken bodies of the scourge minions.
Finally.. we reached the slaughterhouse.. and the abominations. After cutting down a large number of them did we find what we came for.. Ramstein. He was a enormous abomination indeed, and not to eager to go down.. but down he went. And with a mighty blow from the warrior two-handed axe his head came loose. But then we heard a yell from the slaughterhouse.. and five tall black armoured skeletons came forth. Each of them were a mighty foe, but we managed to best them.. barely. Our casualties were the forsaken priest and the shaman.. but a forsaken rarely stay dead for long. And the shamans ancestral magic brought him back as well. After searching the destroyed bones that now lay at our feet I made a discovery... one that tore what was left of my soul out of my body... a medallion.. "Casius Weathermoon".
Images flashed in my mind.. memories.. memories I have never seen before.. but they were mine.. the medallion made me remember..
My mind boiled... my fury greater than ever. I stood up, grasping the medallion in my left hand. I slowly stepped into the slaughterhouse.. my companions carefully came after me.. they gave hushed messages to eachother.. seemingly afraid of what might come. I did not care.. I was blinded of all reason, and what was left of my sanity had been locked away. Finally, I was face to face to the so called Baron Riverdare...
What happened..? I do not know.. for when I let my eyes upon the Death Knight my vision failed.
Moments later... I regained my consciousness... my left arm had been tore from my shoulder. And in my rigth.. I held the throat of the now dead baron. The only survivors were me and the priest.
I picked up my left hand and turned to him.. "Raise the dead... we are done here".