I wake up screaming. Panting. Wipe the sweat off of my brow.
Where am I? Am I dead yet? Is it over?
As sleep and the nightmares start to fade, memories come back to me. Dead, they are all dead, it was not just a nightmare.
I pick up my journal and start writing.
I am in Moonglade, one of the last safe-havens. I am still alive, for now. I can no longer say for certain which day it is, but it is around the time of the Hallowed, as this time of year normally should be characterized by the remembering and honouring of the dead. This year, I fear Hallow’s End will be remembered as the time of the Plague.
I put the writing feather down, as my hands have started to shake again. If you would have asked me a few weeks ago, what I thought to be the safest place on earth and who I considered my allies, I would no doubt have answered that my allegiance lies with my fellow blood elves and that there is no city safer then our majestic Silvermoon . Ironically, the part about “safest city” has not been proved wrong yet, as none of the other great cities turned out to be any safer.
It is here in Mooglade, far from civilisation that we, through the kindness of the druids, find our last place of retreat.
I try to get a grip on myself again, this story needs to be told.
The plague is everywhere, it does not discriminate between Horde or Alliance, man or beast. It devours all and everything – slowly ever spreading, unstoppable, showing no mercy, leaving no survivors. Those we once loved are transformed in front of our watching eyes into abominations that we need to protect ourselves against.
Of all the people I have befriended, only Masque and myself are still alive and uninfected. We have to my knowledge lost all the others.
As we are running out of options, despair is creeping up on us until we reek of it and hopelessness engulfs us. This enemy can not be defeated.
I fear our world is lost.
I have done all I have been able to think of to help our cause. I have for now abandoned my blood elf body and put my entire focus into being atauren druid in the hopes of using my restorative powers to aid our cause. I have spent the past week traveling back and forth between the cities, trying to keep the plague at bay by killing off those infected and cleansing those, for whom there still washope but for every day that went by our strives seemed more and more futile, our effort seems to be in vain.
More and more become infected every day, by the hour. We simply cannot cure them all fast enough, nor slay them fast enough to put an end to this.
I have known fear before and in the face of danger, I have held my head high and fought. In these moments I have learned about my utter desire to live and be alive, to not give in to the darkness. But I have never before met a foe like this, one as persistent and indestructible.
There is no way to fight back. There is nowhere left to run.
We are doomed…
Author’s note: this post is dedicated to all the players who are complaining over the world event currently taking place in World of Warcraft. Instead of complaining about the way this event is interfering with your game play and calling Blizzard names over it, you could see it as a way for you to relate to the frustration and dispair your characters might be feeling right now, as their world is being turned upside down. I imagine only utter despair such as this event would generate, could cause our characters to venture into Northrend and take on the evil entity that is causing them such harm.