Prologue
The orc's green eyes started into my own. The sword fell from my hand, and landed in a pool of blood, belonging to another orc that I had slain. His green eyes grew bigger as the battle around us grew quiet; the men, Night Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, and the races of the Horde had all stopped their fighting to watch as one of the prominent leaders was struck down. I fell down on my knees, ready to accept what ever death had been predetermined by my orc executioner. The last second lasted for ever. I looked up into his eyes once more, his face darkened by the glare of the sun, the steel of his sword shining in the light. Swift and hard, the sword came down and the searing pain I had felt during battle was gone. Now all I felt was the agony of death sweeping over me. For the other half of my last second alive, I spent it looking at the sword that rested itself in my body, through my chest and out my back. Screams could be heard, my friends and allies started to fight again to save me, but I knew already that they were too late. The orc placed his foot on my shoulder and yanked his sword out from me, letting my limp body fall to the ground, next to my sword, in the pool of orc blood. I knew I had died when I saw my body, when I was moving away from the battle into the sky. Everything was becoming smaller, and the world itself seemed to stop moving, as everything faded away into light.
