Gillaen

Whoever thought it was a good idea to send so many death knights to Tol Barad should have had their head examined. Within a matter of weeks we had the situation under control with Horde and Alliance both controlling part of the island in an uneasy truce. As for the prison on the southern part of the island, well no one really wanted to go there. The only prisoners, three massive demons, were sealed into their cells with so many magic seals and locks that there was no chance of them escaping. And if they did manage to get past that lot there was the matter of their size, the prison had been built round them leaving doorways that were only large enough for normal sized people like us or members of the horde. They'd have to destroy the walls themselves to escape.

Anyway both we and the horde kept away apart from occasional skirmishes to consolidate our positions. Most fighting there was done by groups of adventurers challenging each other to war games. As if war could ever be seen as a game. They had no idea what it was really like.

So most of the time was spent sitting around our barracks doing very little and that is never a good idea for people who exist only to kill. It didn't take long for us all to be practically at each other's throats and fights were always breaking out. I tried to keep myself under control by going out each day to kill the huge spiders that infested the centre of the northern island, but it wasn't really enough. They didn't present much of a challenge and barely took the edge off my hunger.

The commander of our garrison, a career soldier who'd risen through the ranks, had been in Tol Barad a long time. He was accustomed to running the garrison, but he had no idea how to deal with death knights. After one particularly bad outbreak of fighting he called all the platoon leaders together and gave us all a lecture on our inability to control our troops. I struggled to keep calm as I listened, and looking around me I could see that the other death knights were just as troubled. Those who weren't death knights were calmer but equally concerned. We all knew that trying to exert discipline over us wasn't going to work. We needed to fight, against opponents that would give us a challenge. Someone had to say something. So I did.

I strode across the room to his desk, slammed my hands down on the bare wood and leant forward to glare at him.

"Listen to me, you ignorant bastard," I snapped. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You have no idea how to handle us. Punishing us, locking us up, is not the answer. We need to fight. It's what being a death knight is. If we can't fight we'll go crazy, be completely out of control. Do you really want that? You don't have enough other troops to deal with that."

He was silent as I straightened and stepped back. Not waiting to see if he would answer I turned and strode out, slamming the door behind me. I was shaking with barely controlled anger and afraid of doing something I'd later regret.

I headed out of the garrison and crossed the nearest bridge to the central area where I attacked the nearest spider savagely. Eventually I calmed enough to realise that I was not alone. Another death knight, a slender sin'dorei with brown hair tied up in a tail on the top of his head, was doing the same as I. I paused for a moment to look at him, realising that he seemed familiar. Pulling his sword free from his prey he grinned at me.

"Not the same as killing the Lich King," he commented.

"True," I agreed, "but better than killing an ignorant commander who doesn't understand death knights."

"You too?"

I nodded.

He looked past me toward the hill at the top of which was the bridge that led to the south island. A group of riders were making their way up there.

"Maybe that is the answer," he mused.

"Huh?"

"The war games. Our death knights against yours."

I liked the idea. It would give us all the chance to work off our aggression and get our hunger under control. Best of all, as far as our commanders were concerned, none of us would die thanks to the rules of the war games. Tyriyan and I worked out the details then headed back to our respective garrisons to organise groups. I didn't bother informing the commander what I was planning in case he tried to stop us. I was likely going to be in a lot of trouble anyway after the way I'd spoken to him. There was no point in looking for more.

As evening drew in we gathered at the bridge waiting for the gates to open. The horde team had won the previous battle, meaning that Tyriyan's group had the defensive position. It didn't matter to us, so long as we could fight until we were too exhausted to go on we'd be content.

We fought through the night and well on into the next day. Thanks to the magic governing the war games we could fight almost to the point of death before being removed from the battle and healed. For us it was the ideal solution. We could give in to our hunger, let it take control until it was sated. In the end it didn't matter that our opponents weren't actually dying, hell, we were technically dead anyway, what mattered to us was the pain, the damage we inflicted.

Eventually the battle ended and to this day I have no idea who won. Everyone had had the chance to fight and it was exhausted, much calmer soldiers that crossed back over the bridge, Alliance and Horde side by side. We were all members of the Ebon Blade, at that moment faction was irrelevant. All that was important was that we had dealt with our unique problems in the most practical way possible.

Tyriyan and I were the last to leave. As we reached the end of the bridge and the parting of our ways he grinned at me and said, "Same time next week," as though we were arranging a tea party rather than a battle.

I laughed and nodded. "You're on," I said.

In the end I didn't have any more trouble from the commander. Someone must have persuaded him that my solution to our problems was the best option in the long run and he let us go on with it.

I'd often wondered what would become of us if ever we succeeded in ridding our world and Outland of all the Scourge. What place would there be for people who needed, existed only to kill. Always we had been treated with suspicion if not outright hostility even from our own factions. In times of relative peace we would be a liability that no one would want. I couldn't see us being welcome in our cities any more than we were now. Would this be our ultimate destiny, condemned to fighting endless war games to preserve our sanity until we tired of it and chose to end our existence? It was a bleak future and not one that I desired.

We were on Tol Barad for several months in the end, months of boredom, lightened only by our weekly war games. I don't think there was a man or woman amongst us who was not happy when we were given the order to return to Stormwind.

We were expecting to sail back so it was quite a surprise to be told that a portal would be opened for us. I knew there were portals available for the adventurers that visited the islands, but it never occurred to me that we could use them too.

We were sent through the portal a platoon at a time. I held mine back until last, wanting to be sure there was no trouble. So I allowed them to take their ease out of the way while I stood watching the portal and the mages who worked it. I was admittedly curious, I'd not used them often; in fact the last time was back in Icecrown. Judging by the number of mages required, working in frequently changing teams, the magic involved was considerable and draining on them, especially with a portal this large. I'd never had much of an opinion for mages before. Now, seeing the strain this put on them, I found a new respect.

Most of the platoons had gone through and I'd just ordered mine to get ready when I saw two great cats bound across the open ground, one white striped, the other dark mottled, before being called to order by a piercing whistle. They stopped and retraced their tracks to join a group of mages standing to one side of the portal. Curiously I walked towards them. The cats were obviously hunter pets, not mere companions like Nerissina's raven or the little bird that I'd acquired from Outland on one of our tours of duty. I wondered what they were doing accompanying mages. I soon got my answer.

Amongst the group were two kaldorei that I recognised, the white haired huntress Maelinastra who'd fought alongside me at Icecrown, and with her the blue haired mage whose name I couldn't recall who had made the portal to take her to Darnassus in an attempt to save her life. I was glad to see that she'd survived and recovered.

She looked past her companions and noticed me approaching. She smiled and came towards me.

"Gillaen, it's good to see you. I hadn't realised you were here. Are you going home?"

I nodded. "Yes. We've been here too long. We need a break from this boredom."

"That bad?"

"For death knights, yes. We nearly had a riot, it got so bad."

"I heard about that. The war games were a good idea."

"It was that or murder the commander. I didn't think that would look good back home."

She laughed. "We've been here several times. Joss has been helping with the portals and I've been hunting spiders. You get surprisingly good skins from them. But now we're going home too, back to Teldrassil."

Our conversation was interrupted then as my platoon was called to go through the portal. With a brief farewell to Maelinastra I followed them, stepping out into the cool air of Stormwind.

There was a message waiting for me from Arrentai saying that he needed to see Nerissina and asking me to bring her to the Pig and Whistle as soon as possible.