Darkness upon darkness-
Work is needed from you, priest. I have nothing- nothing to give you, to aid you, only my soul, broken and battered as it is. Here is my promise, that in the darkness, even when all else is consumed, you will see me. You will see us, and upon the Mountain we will stand in the glory of creation.
Here is your gift-
Use it well.
"Wake up, fool! You are needed, and I, Torax, General of the Warchief, command you to wake NOW!"
And snapped out of the darkness I was indeed, for an Orcish warlord is one you respect and oblige with immediately. Snapping bolt upright, I began to cast my head about, only to remember my absence of sight. I instead began to focus on the sounds around me, and was soon at loss from the shouting and screaming around me.
"These men, aid them, priest!"
It took a moment for the command to process before I realized my duty. Horde or not, they had saved my life, what was left of it, and I owed them my services.
Instead of my eyes, I cast out my mind, searching around me for the souls of the warriors. At first I found nothing but empty husks, lifeless corpses around the battlefield. And then, with my mental eye, color arose around me. Red life-force radiated around me. Orcs? A yellow tint in a few…A bloodlust thrilled Troll.
And there I was shocked again, after a long and terrible day, as my mind's eye glimpsed the other souls around me.
A distant memory arose (barely three days ago, if I am correct) of Elveryth and her wound. A thorny spear from a Bristleback Boar had pierced her leg, and, as I brought my healing magics around me, the Night Elf's soul was visible… a bright green life-force against the blackness. And here was that same strength and clarity, that same natural flow of the earth, upon this battlefield among the evils of the Horde.
But this was different, I knew. These were not elves of any kind, and I realized myself a fool for thinking as such. The tint was darker, ever so slightly, and more broad, much like the thick leaves of Ashenvale. These were Tauren, the bull men who worshipped the Earth Mother as their goddess.
"WELL?" shouted Torax again, his voice clear against the chaos around me.
And with that command, I began to work, strengthening the souls around me with calm clarity. With each soul I wove a tapestry of Holiness into their life-force, giving them life and will to continue the battle. Only twice did I arrive too late, and the spirit of the fallen released into The Twisting Nether without any way to retrieve it.
At last, after hours it seemed, did the carnage surrounding us falter and eventually cease. I brought my mind back to my body, sick and writhing, and was immediately aware of the hundreds of eyes upon me. I could feel them, staring at me with the blank look of battle upon their face-that expression changed naught with Orc or Human, Dwarf or Troll. Swaying on their feet, Torax spoke again, gentler and calmer.
"Rest, priest. You have served us, and we will serve you soon. And once accomplishing that, you have a tale to tell, I am sure. But for now, rest."
Upon the grasslands of The Barrens, in the ranks of the Horde, I stood and cast my hands out in front of me, to find a large, muscled arm ready to guide me.