Lobo's Trial of Sacrifice

[Chaindog]

More than 15 years have passed since my death. It was around the time when we lost the Sunwell. Yet I breathe again. I died in battle in the hills of Alterac Valley. My mission was to escort refugees south to Southshore in hopes of finding a boat sailing to safer lands. We were overrun by the Scourge. I watched as those I’d sworn to protect died around me. The power of the light had failed me. The strength of the paladin wasn’t enough to protect the innocent. I died under a mountain of undead.

It’s amazing what gold can do to motivate people. My family is an old family of Silvermoon; my grandfather a master of survival. It was his money that paid for the recovery of the family corpses and their resurrection.

One of my grandfather’s agents was in Ebon Hold when I was revived. He tells me, it took them more than 15 years to find my corpse. Restoring the body was easy they said. Getting my spirit back was harder. It seemed only the Deathknights could do it; something to do with how Arthas had taught the others like Morgraine on how to retrieve the soul.

15 years and now I stand outside the front door of my family’s estate. It looks as it always has looked. One couldn’t even tell a war had touched this place. I will my legs forward. A part of me doesn’t want to be here. I died. I failed. Yet I must face this.

The door opens upon my arrival. The butler recognises me and lets me in. He directs me to the waiting room. He assures me all will be well and leaves me alone while he informs my grandfather of my return. The waiting room is decorated with an assortment of items of wealth, power and prestige. One of them catches my eye. Lying on a rack, polished and decorated with the order of paladins, is my hammer. The very hammer I died with. I’m not sure what emotion I should be feeling at this time. I don’t get to figure it out as someone arrives behind me.

“Granddaughter!” my grandfather says as he steps forward.

I turn to face him and he freezes. I still wear my deathknight armour. My runeblade strapped to my back. “Grandfather.” I say. Not a bit of emotion in my voice.

He steps forward and embraces me anyway. When he pulls back he looks in my eyes while understanding appears on his face. The innocent child who became a paladin and symbol for her people is gone.

We turn to look at the hammer. He says, “Will you return to the light and take up your hammer again?” My grandfather was never subtle.

The very question I have dreaded since my rebirth rings in my ears. Do I become what I once was, or do I stay the Deathknight?

“Grandfather,” I say, “All that talk of honour, when I was child, it was all just a lie. There’s no such thing in war. I cannot be what I need to be to bring you peace.”

My grandfather says, “I think I understand. Your family will always love you no matter what you choose to be.”
I said, “I don’t think you do understand.” I pulled the family signet off my right index finger. I placed it in the palm of his hand. “If we are to win this war, for us to be at peace, I cannot have the virtues of this family. I must have no attachments to anything that would prevent me from slaying every soul of our enemies.” I looked him in the eyes and saw the pain there. “I am sorry grandfather, but I can no longer be your granddaughter.”

I gave him one final hug, and left without looking behind. The heart pains, but it is necessary for us to succeed. Peace can only be brought through annihilation.

[Khorvis]

(( Bravo! I even got a little misty-eyed! ))

[Greebo]

(( An excellent start. I eagerly await the conclusion where you return later that day to kill ol' gran pappy. ))