Roleplayer's Legacies: Beginnings

                 I have done a great deal of pain and suffering during my unlife as a servant of the Lich King and the Scourge. I know I can never forget all the atrocities I have committed. Although the Alliance hunt for me and the Horde shun me; I am writing now so they can at least see what I have done to be where I am now. Before Quel'thalas fell, before the Sunwell became corrupted, and during the rise of the new Lich King. This is the story of Malfurious, Malfin,  Malice the Dread Knight and the Ethereal being, Malial. Prepare yourselves mortals, for this tome is not for the faint of heart.

               A hero... that's what you once were. You stood boldly against the Shadow and purchased another dawn for the world... with your life. But the evil you fought is not so easily banished; the victory you claimed, not so easily held. For now, the specter of death looms over the world yet again and it has found new champions to bring about its final reign. Knights of darkness, wielding runes of death and destruction, bound by the will of the Lich King. This is the hour of their ascension! This is the hour of your dark rebirth...

   

                          Prologue

            I was a High elf serving under Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner in aid of defending Silvermoon. I heard of what happened at the first gate from the small group of survivors and Sylvanas herself. They told of stitched horrors and stone-like bats. We knew our defiance would be our undoing, but we could not abandon our post and job as High Elves. The first wave of scourge assaulted us head on, the rangers nocking arrows faster than the fastest humans of Stormwind and Lordaeron combined.

             Although our efforts would have been effective against living foes, the Scourge were not alive, but dead corpses revived by dark magics.

           They survived against all tactics; no matter what we tried they kept coming at us. Eventually our first ranks fell. But that was not the worst of it, the necromancers and Prince Arthas, the one leading the assault, raised some of our fallen to add to his monstrous army. I could no longer stand what was happening around me. I ran at the prince and struck hard with my sword of holy fire. I thought it was going to strike, instead he deflected the attack with ease with his own weapon.

    "You will have to do better than that. You will serve my master in undeath in the end." Arthas taunted. I let my warcry ring high over the sounds of fighting and shouted my defiance as each attack landed only to be parried or deflected. I knew I could not keep this up forever, but it seemed that he could. At last my attacks hit home, cutting deep into his plate shoulder, it drew blood and in that moment I knew he was no longer toying with me. He went on the offensive and I had to struggle to keep myself away. After a while fatigue finally began to take its toll. It became harder to move, I tried to run but I became trapped in a bone-chilling shackle. As Arthas strode towards me, he frowned in remorse and pity.

    "You and your Ranger-General put me through much. This did not have to happen." Arthas said. "But you leave me no choice. Watch as your race descends into oblivion!" Arthas raised his sword which I now realized was no ordinary sword but a runeblade of all weapons. It began to glow and a swarm of shadows hungering for death and destruction pulsed inside with unnatural ice. The icy burst was released as it decimated every living elf within its radius. I felt horror beyond comprehension as my soul was severed from my body and transferred into the blade. I felt my soul was taken from the sword and placed back into my  dead body. I awakened realizing the same has been done with every other High Elf in sight.

          "You will aid me in destroying your precious Sunwell. I must ask what is your name, my new servant." Arthas said.

            Through clenched teeth, and although my body was broken I was still able to talk through the dark magics that was now in my veins instead of blood and the magic of our people. I stood proudly, "Malfin Lightfury."