The Razing of the Park
Cloudspeak - May 5, 2006
As I looked about The Park, I did so with a mixture of
satisfaction and sadness. All around me the elves were dead.
While I did not view the carnage with the same glee as the rest
of The Grim, I had no regrets. Their deaths were well-deserved.
Speaking of themselves as protectors of the natural order, yet
with their actions nurturing the corruption they called
Teldrassil. In fact I was most satisfied with their deaths. These
druids would not pass on their faulty wisdom to others. Looking
back, it chills me now that I had grown so cold in regards to
death.
No, what saddened me was the scorched grass, the burning trees. A
necessary sacrifice for the greater good, I thought. The
Forsaken, another necessary evil on my path of retribution
devoured the dead as the sounds of fighting died. By “any means
necessary” it was said among The Grim, and so I had come to them,
making their battle cry my own. The tumor infecting the
Earthmother would be scorched from existence. I would not falter
in this nor fail to restore my tribes honor and lift the curse of
Two-Fires.
Of course, all had not gone smoothly. Not even half The Grim
force had been mustered when we were discovered in the basement
of the elven tavern. Ironically, it was not by elves, but by
dwarves. No doubt they had drank the bar dry and had stumbled
into the basement looking for more drink. We ceased our summoning
immediately and pressed the attack with what we had. It was a
route and we had little chance, but we did accomplish our
mission. The elves of The Park were dead and the message there
was no place they could hide delivered. They were replaced as is
the norm in things, but more cautious no doubt.
As the last of The Grim began departing the battlefield - via
stone or foot - I pulled out a letter I had dictated to a goblin
a few days before the battle. I used Broknog, an expensive yet
talented goblin who rarely mistranslated and performed his job
well. Walking up to the one lamppost to escape the chaos I struck
it to the timber and activated my stone.
“Elves of Azeroth, this is only the beginning of the wrath the
Earthmother shall unleash upon you and those who would shelter
you. Is it not enough you nurture the tumor you so selfishly
planted on the Earthmother’s soul, but now you cower behind cut
and molded stone built by others?
If you have the courage, do what you know is right. Denounce your
Staghelm and burn out the festering wound your experiment of
arrogance has spawned. Fail to do so and I will act for you. My
allies and I will burn your tumor to its very roots. Mark my
name, for I will not be deterred from my quest to bring peace to
the Earthmother.
Garn Cloudspeak, Corrupted One of the Grim”