35th Day of Summer
I made my decision and left Orgrimmar last night, but it was not with the mind I had expected. I have not taken a portal, a zeppelin, nor a ship to my homeland. Indeed, I am still in Kalimdor.
And I am invigorated.
It was a child that stuttered my brain into gear last night, one crying in what could only be described as pure fear. Several corpses lay on the dusty road outside of the Orgrimmar Orphanage, some still smouldering from fel fire, others simply hacked to pieces. It was a sight no child should see, not even by the standards of orcs, and the slaughter had been for nothing more than spreading chaos.
But all that remained of their assailant were oversized pauldrons that somehow gave off an odour of evil - call me dramatic, but it could be described no other way. And anyone who smelled it wore the same haunted look, for it could also not be misunderstood.
Matron had tried to calm the child, but nothing would subdue him. That had wrenched my heart enough, but when I saw the silence in the wide eyes of the others, I found myself suddenly able to make the decision I'd been putting off for days - and of my two options, I chose the third.
I write this from the Crossroads in the Barrens, in the meagre camp, erected in a hurry, where exhausted warriors rest before retaking arms against the demons that relentlessly assault the desolate plains. And I am one of them.
Hearing the unadulturated terror in the child's voice, and the scarring of the souls in the eyes of the others, I realised that I cannot sit by and be one of the protected. If I can raise a weapon, then I must use it against the Legion. Everyone must. This is no time for second-guessing abilities. If I die here by their hands, so be it. They are formidable; there is no shame in it. But if I were to die in that damned tavern, in that damned city, cowering and shaking or fleeing for my life while they overrun the world because too few were prepared to stand against them...that, there is shame in.
There is no good excuse to leave this fight to others. We are all of this world. Even the orcs and the draenei call Azeroth home, and any who spit on that - and even blame them for leading them here or contributing to their ranks - should stop to consider the fact that these are more hands to raise weapons against them in the defence of our native home.
I might sound haughty, pretentious, pious, but I am embracing this resolve of mine. It is right, it is real, and I do my family proud by wearing it as I am. And I do myself proud. If I die, I die well. If I live, then I pray I live because we pushed back the Burning Legion's most recent attempt to consume this world.
But whatever happens, at least I was not sitting in a tavern, listening to the feats of others being exaggerrated or played down. And who knows? Perhaps my name will appear in one of these recounts.
Yes, I'm in a humourous mood. It must be the terror at what I know is outside of this tent...
-- Atherya Sunleaf