Interlude
The rest of our journey to Stormwind was rather uneventful. There were further attacks and small skirmishes, though not by the Scourge.
Poor Raynar died a week after our difficult conversation, to a giant spider as we were crossing the southern border of the Highlands.
Cuthbert was shot through the throat by a bandit marksman as we entered Westfall, weeks later.
That was only mentioning a couple. I was the only Housecarl remaining when we arrived in Stormwind, and only a handful of the Lordaeron soldiers survived our journey. There had been many other caravans before us, and I had heard that some people had been brave enough to stay behind. I envy their thick headed bravery.
And so, Stormwind became my adopted homeland. I did make several trips back to Lordaeron, to fight the Scourge, however, though with limited success. Then the Dark Portal decided unleash hell again, and I was one of many brave warriors who traveled to the Outlands to combat the Burning Legion. I spent a long time there, fighting demons, beasts, naga…some of the most horrifying things you can imagine. Eventually, though, the situation was stabilized, and I returned just in time for the first expedition to Northrend.
The tales of my adventures in the Outlands are mediocre at best, and never was I to play a big part in anything. I was just another faceless hero combating the darkness that hangs perpetually over our world.
But in Northrend, I was to discover that my flight from Lordaeron had left some loose ends, ones I had almost forgotten by the time I set foot on the frozen shores of that cursed continent…