Prologue
"The simplest way to say it is this: we all strive for perfection; though it sits under our nose and still out of reach. You may be the fool who swats at the air in attempts to grasp it or simply knock it away like the useless trash you think it is. Or, or you could stride forward towards it, for perfection is in moving forwards towards our goals and looking back only to learn what to do in the future. But remember: the journey is before the destination, but to make the journey you must know your destination so the path does not corrupt you and turn you away from your perfection."
The school mistress stood above the children, scanning for any face paying with complete attention, which of course there was none. The children showed faces of studied innocence and blissful ignorance when the mistress' gaze fell upon them. With a deep sigh she closed the book, loud enough for the students to be jostled out of their peaceful ignorance. With shouts of joy and declarations of tag, the children ran out of the Moonbrook school and into the streets.
Parents greeted their returning children and laughed as they chased each other with delighted giggles. But none knew of the shadows approaching, through the ground under their feet and the woods to the east. Armies amassed in scattered numbers, readying the strike at innocence's heart.
After dark on the same day, the shadows moved and the air grew cold. The chill set its hold, for the bandits of bloodied masks slaughtered the people of Moonbrook and the area. The heart of slaughter led by none other than Edwin VanCleef, and the Defias gang. Though hope is not lost, as light escapes to fight another day.
The fire of life still burned in the night. Through pouring rain and screaming souls, the little girl ran with light. Her father lay dead not fifteen feet behind her, two arrows in his back. In the dark of night, did she weep: her raindrops of her own. But onward she fled.
(0)
In the rain of the sorrowful night, in the sweet grass of Elwyn Forest, a young girl came weeping through the gates of Westbrook Garrison. A lady of the fort brought her inside with eyes of the saddest gold. The child's hair shown pale in the last slivers of the silver moon. When asked what the problem was, the child answered gravely.
"My family was killed by the men with bloodied masks. Moonbrook is gone, and so is my home. I must go to Stormwind to alert the guard, and maybe I'll find a new home on my way."