Author's Note: This story represents my 2011 effort in the Blizzard Creative Writing Contest. The short format meant I didn't get to expand on certain areas as much as I might have liked, but I still think it came out decently.
I don't know if anyone else out there is like this, but I seriously dislike stuff being put in the game without any lore base. From everything I found on Wiki, Tol Barad was a key area in the Second War, and was the site of numerous atrocities and battles from then until now. I figured it might be interesting to explore the history of one of the quest mobs…ie First Lt. Connor, and weave in a bit of a lore explanation for the strange happenings on the island. I hope you enjoy!
The scabrous stars glittered through restless clouds; their sickening light shuddering off the naked blade below. First Lieutenant Jonathan Connor, celebrated hero of the Alliance and Scourge to the forces of the Horde, bowed his head under the weight and pulled his eyes away from the ghostly pallor of the monument surrounding him. Not so easy was stopping his ears from the dusty rustlings and squishing noises surging around his shelter. The unquiet dead were waiting for their hero to finally join them.
It was too much to wish for sunlight, just this once, he thought bitterly as he positioned the gleaming blade just below his heart. This place hasn't seen the sun since the Second War, which is perhaps how it should be. It would be quick, relatively, in comparison to the curse already beginning to ravage his flesh. Even now the cords of his arms rippled with rot and squirmed with vile magics. With this one act he would be free of them, and hopefully beyond the curse's foul reach.
He turned an eye slightly left and focused past the shuddering forms wandering among the leprous stones. His sister was still there at the very precipice of the graveyard, ensconced in her bright shield of holy light. The undead creatures of this place would not dare intrude while the Light was with her. Just behind her still form was the small gathering of Kirin Tor, there to ensure the spectacle was carried out. He took a firmer grip on his trusted sword, turning it slightly so the echo of her Light reflected up into his eyes. It wasn't sunlight, but was close enough to be comforting as the sword slid home.
Tol Barad is where my comrades died. It is my final resting place, sister, now in truth, as it should have been then.