Galnas: The Rebirth of the Tirisfal Glades

Prologue

"Bound to the iron will of the tyrant Lich King, the vast Undead armies of the Scourge seek to eradicate all life on Azeroth. Led by the Banshee Sylvanas Windrunner, a group of renegades broke away from the Scourge and freed themselves of the Lich King's domination. Known by some as the Forsaken, this group fights a constant battle not only to retain its freedom from the Scourge, but also to slaughter those who would hunt them as monsters. With Sylvanas as their Banshee Queen, the Forsaken have built a dark stronghold beneath the ruins of Lordaeron's former capital city. This hidden Undercity forms a sprawling labyrinth that stretches beneath the haunted woods of Tirisfal Glades. Convinced that the primitive races of the Horde can help them achieve victory over their enemies, the Forsaken have entered an alliance of convenience. Harbouring no true loyalty for their new allies, they go to any lengths to ensure their dark plans come to fruition. As one of the Forsaken, you must massacre any who pose a threat to the new order, Human, Undead, or otherwise."

Screams cried out across the Tirisfal Glades; its defenders, one by one, fell. "We lost Fipps priest, you are needed now!" Stirring from his brief sleep Galnas shouted back, "I am coming!" They had been fighting the cursed waves of the Scourge for the last few weeks and with each passing day, less time was spent sleeping and more time fighting the endless hordes. Thousands had already died; men, women and children, torn to pieces only to rise again to join the cursed dead. Samuel Fipps had been a close friend and the last priest in Vandermar village of experience and skill, his passing, though painful was no surprise. Slowly rising Galnas quickly put in his boots, all of them were expected to sleep fully clothed, allowing them to rise at any given hour and make haste if needed. The once bustling village abandoned, accompanied by an eerie howl of the wind greeted the priest as he stepped outside the Church and started jogging towards the combat zone, North East of the Church. Wooden spikes had been erected around the village to serve as a form of protection, although they would do little to nothing if the undead overwhelmed them. Galnas shuddered at the thought of his wife and unborn son slaughtered mercilessly; eaten alive by the mindless undead ghouls. His jog quickening into a slow run as he rounded the last corner the occasional clang of an axe and the scream of another defender falling. The undead had been trampling all resistance within the former kingdom of Lordaeron for weeks after the betrayal of Prince Arthas and its effects were beginning to show as the defenders of the town were drawing up their last surges of strength. Dark shadows accompanied all of them, as the undead had made sleeping but a figment of the imagination. As he turned the corner he was met by a horrid sight; the undead had brought in their cursed banshees possessing the last clusters of resistance. Even as he stood and watch the defender who had called his name had his head cut in two by one of the possessed. Despair overwhelmed Galnas as he knew not what he a simple priest could do against the endless tide of the dead rushing over the fresh corpses of the fallen. "FOR VANDERMAR, FOR LORDAERON!", Using the last reserves of his magic he erected a holy barrier around him, causing any undead who entered to crumble to ash. "Dammit, there are too many of them...", slowly the barrier began to shrink as Galnas collapsed to the ground, with the last reserves of his magic and strength depleted it was only a matter of time before the undead killed him as well. "Vivianne.... Erik.... keep safe....", the barrier dissipated and the undead surged forward and cleaving the head off the unconscious body of the priest, his head spun matting the grass, his last prayers etched in his still face.