The administration here does nothing, they sit and stare into the darkness of the void as it consumes everything before them. The corruption quickly spreads through Terrokar Forest and I know that it is time to flee to the portals. If I can warn those in Azeroth, maybe they will stand a chance. No one here seems to listen to me or even care.
I despise them for their lackadaisical attitude toward life, how inconsiderate they are as they wallow in the gluttony of their political struggles, thirsting ever more for power beyond their reach. Meanwhile those that have nothing here, and beg to survive stare at the pit of sorrow and drown in their fear.
The bankers scurry like the little rats that they are, filtering and festering through the piles of pointless gold. It won't do them any good.
The high priests stand before the carnage of the storm and pray for it to be cast from existence. I know not who they pray to, but if they can hear our prayers, I doubt they will save us now-we who so long cast them out of our lives in exchange for the benefits of our pride.
I care not for this place any longer. It sickens me that they do nothing. My only concern is for those so blind and foolish not to run while they can. I beg the beggar, and he asks for gold. What will it take for the people to see their death awaits? That nothingness consumes all? What will it take for them to rise up and fight? Or to run and flee? They sit here and do nothing! While the very nothingness they do consumes them!