Living a life of constant battle that's what my life has always been. Of course it wasn't always like that I used to be just a young teenaged boy living on the streets of Chicago with my brother and sister after our parents kicked it. It wasn't an easy life but we managed; until, one day it happended. We were just wandering around when I noticed a strange glowing light down an old alley way. My sister and brother followed me and we found the source but when we got close to the light we went through a ridiculous tunnel of light a storm.

When we awoke we where all in a big dark forest; we had know idea where we where but my instincts simply told me to survive and move out. After about a day of traveling we found a broken down house. it was pretty banged up but it was the closet thing to a home we had in a long time.

For two years we lived there in secrecy and seclusion doing whatever we had to live weither we hunted or farmed the terrible soil we made it through, even managed to the make the house more lookable. One day I ventured far and found myself in what looked like a medieval human town it was called Tyr's hand.

I didn't truly believe it was the real Tyr's hand from WOW but after an assault force of undead soldiers attacked to say that I wasn't convinced was and understatement. After that I rushed back to my home as fast as I could to tell my brother and sister what I had learned but when I got there yelling at the top of my lungs for my siblings.

Not less than ten feet from the home a ghoul attacked me. I had always spent my life fighting in the streets of Chicago back on Earth so I had a good idea on how to fight with my fists and even with a melee weapon.

I told my sister to get the rusty sword I found so I can use it while she used my bow. In the mean time while she was getting the sword I held the S.O.B off with my bare hands. This monster though wasn't anything like the thugs I had fought in the alleys of Chicago it was sharp and agile where as I was used to mainly using brute force.

I had managed to knock the bastard down and grab it by it's legs and start spinning around like a chopper, the thing was surprisingly light. In the end after about a minute I slammed the bitch against a tree. I thought it was dead because I swear I heard bones just break in it and saw the things stomach split open. Despite the look of it's injuries I still took my foot and curb stomped it, because after all with the undead you can never be too sure.

I was so caught up in victory that I didn't even notice the second one that was coming up from behind me. If it hadn't been for my sister slicing off the things head and arms I would be dead

We burned the bodies to prevent the scourge from the resurrecting them again. After the fire died out I told my brother and sister what I had learned about the world we had come too roughly two years ago.

Afterwards we reinforced are home and learned how to better defend ourselves with weapons. We even took to being thieves at one point in order to get food and better weapons that weren't junk.

Five more years had passed since that day, undead would sometimes come by and we would deal with them by killing them, there was even one time an abomination came by are home. Another year later and I had turned twenty-three, my sister was twenty and little brother was sixteen.

I felt confident in my siblings abilities since we had survived here on Azeroth for the past eight years, how foolish I was. I had gone out to see Around Light's Hope chapel to get any news(I had a good idea where it was since I remember things from the WOW world maps.)

I didn't get any good news but the worst came when I heard that two death knights where heading towards the direction of my home.

I rushed as fast as I could back home to get my bro and sis, I even ran into night I only slept and rested for a brief three hour rest that collapsed into the dirt. After which I continued

But by the time I got home I was too late. My home was on fire, my brothers lifeless corpse was laying face down in a pool of blood. I rushed inside to try and find my sister but when I got into the house, within the kitchen I saw a Death Knight running my sister through with a runeblade. I was filled with shock and horror for the first time in eight years and more than anything rage.

I charged and tackled the death knight from behind I managed to knock the runeblade out of the death knights hand, I picked it up and then stabbed him through and then through sheer force ripped it up and through his skull. And slashed through the in half torso.

After I finished I dropped the runeblade I dropped to my knees in sorrow for my dead sibling. I was so sad that I would have just stood in that fire if I was given the choice.

But the second the death knight stabbed me in the back with his blade. I was slightly scared at this point knowing that I was going to die but then be resurrected as a ghoul but the death knight had other plans for me for he bent down in front of me and I got a good look at his face; he was a human bald head with a y shaped scar or birth mark on his head. But I digress because the death knight said something that kept me from changing into a ghoul but something more terrifying. You have much anger and pain, that's good you will make an excellent addition to the ranks of the death knights. At that point he pulled the sword out of my back and I blacked out.

How long I was dead I truly did not know, all that kept going through my mind was the same thought and hope that I wished would not come to pass; becoming undead.

But hopes and dreams are nothing to the damned as I learned with my resurrection. True to the mans word I was raised as a death knight and here is the real kicker the very same man who killed me was the very same man who would train me. If I got out of line at all he would unleash some sort of painful mind crush; nevertheless I swore an oath right in front of him that one day I would rip off his head.

Training as a death knight was varied at best. The abilities to use weapons came easy to me; I took after the exception that a true death knights blade should be the personification of his soul, which is why it took me seven tries before I finally felt complete with a weapon. Using the unholy and shadow magics of the death knights, but when I finally got used to using them I was praised by many way my imagination created new ways to use the powers bestowed upon me by the lich king.

In time I nearly fell in line just like everyone else, only the oath I made to the bastard who had killed then resurrected me kept me from falling into darkness. One day however he disappeared from our ranks never to be seen again.

I waited a month but he never returned. I made up my mind that day that I would find that s.o.b and kill him and no one would stop me. Even the lich kings brain control could not hold me and soon I escaped and set off into the world of warcraft again.