Caer's Screenshot Contest!!

Subject: Re: Caer's Screenshot Contest!! Thu Mar 01, 2012 9:27 pm

(This is a repost from another place the public can't read. If you read this, and I didn't link you here, ignore it. It's something unimportant I wrote 3 years ago. )

Hey All! This is just a random story I wrote in the train. Dealing with an anonymous person in an unidentified time, this tale is best taken as fan fiction. There is no urge to read it at all, and considering the length, I would not advice you to waste time reading it, unless you truly have a large amount of time and nothing better to do than read the whole thing. I'm just posting it here as I thought it might be a shame to just throw it away. Expect nothing great from it.

*The Journal you pick up seems to have no indication of ownership. The story inside is penned down by an anonymous hand. You decide to read the large tale inside all the way from the beginning when you have the time*

The promised day had finally come. I had been living towards this journey for years, if not all my life. My path has been a long and difficult one. There were many things I had to find out before undertaking this journey, but I had finally found the answers I had been searching for in the world. Now it was time to at long last travel towards the ancient home of my people, our ancestral domain and prime place in the world, our capitol. There, I would walk among my people as they go about their important tasks and stand among the great ones like an equal. There, I would stand before our greatest elder and add what wisdom I obtained in the world to his own.

It was with great anticipation that I went on my travel. Though I left my life behind with some loose ends, my preparations had been extensive, and those I care about had been informed. The final travel would take me through dangerous lands wrapped in conflict. Fortunately, such problems are more easily avoided by travelling through the air. I passed overhead of great beasts, undead forces, hostile settlements, mage towers and a shoreline full of Murlocs to reach my destination. While avoiding those threats would normally be cause for relief, I found myself growing increasingly nervous as the main tower fortress came into view. A thing of great beauty and magic, the great spire was supposedly what the entire settlement was built around. Inside the knowledge and leadership of my people is gathered, with our wisest and most powerful living at the top; truly an inspiring sight to behold. My heart beat faster as its presence grew larger with my approach. As I came closer however, a feeling of wrongness entered my mind. Something was off…

It wasn’t long before I came across the first of the corpses. Men and women, cut down in their prime. Great wounds were inflicted upon them using weapons and spells. From the wounds they sustained, it was clear that they died valiantly defending the city. We are at war, of course, but I had not expected to come across a battlefield of slain heroes within our own lands. Worse yet, none of the corpses of our enemies were around, meaning they had won the battle. I am no stranger to fighting and readied myself for combat, in case our foes were still around. I had not come to engage in any kind of conflict, but certainly I would not stand idle to watch my people die. I rushed onwards.

It didn’t take me long to become disheartened, as I was in essence following a trail of corpses. The bodies I found weren’t just those of guards and heroes anymore. Among the fallen were servants and teenagers, most of which had likely never seen the horrors of combat before. I grew disgusted, seeing how their possessions had been rifled through and their bodies gruesomely mutilated in many cases, often after death. The enemy was taking parts of slain foes as souvenirs… My hatred grew.

I worked my way past structures of my people, now devoid of life. If our enemy was still here, they were most likely heading towards the center of the capitol. I was relieved to encounter the first survivor; an injured servant woman. She seemed in shock, as I bandaged her, staring right through me at the corpses of people she had likely known all her life. She did not reply to my rushed questions, only shaking her head when I asked if our enemy was still present. That was something at least, though the relieved part of me was drowned out by the guilt I felt at having been unable to help my people when the attack of our bloodthirsty occurred. As I got closer to the spire I encountered more servants, tending to the corpses. I had never been more thankful that my love and family did not live in the capitol.

As I came closer to the spire, I noticed some of my people patrolling the skyways. If there were still lookouts on duty, that was a good sign, the first positive one I’d had in a while. I cast a small magical beacon to draw their attention, and one of them descended. It was a man of more advanced age than me, and though he stood tall and mighty his skin showed signs of cuts and burns sustained in recent combat. He gazed upon me with eyes empty of all hope. I told him my name and that of my father, and why I had come, which caused little more than the slowly raising of an eyebrow. Had he expected me to be there to join the battle? He let out a soft sigh and told me to go into the spire. Before I could ask more, he resumed his patrol and I was left alone again. I walked to the spire, where the rest of my people had likely evacuated to.

I had renewed hope as I finally reached the center of my people’s lands. The spire stood mighty and impressive. Strange that it was mostly the corpses of the local fauna that raised my hopes; even the local creatures had risen up to repel the attackers. Our enemy’s assault had surely been halted by the combined efforts of my kinsmen and their allies at the spire. The massive structure was easily defended and had defenses both magical and structural to hinder would-be invaders. Choke-points, traps, steep drops and mighty guardians, along with more magical and physical prowess from dedicated armies than could possibly be overcome. I would soon come across a massive amount of enemy corpses. The loss was great, but I had seen the worst of it. That’s what I told myself. I was wrong…

Sulfur, I remember smelling it. The crystalline floor showed the signs of vile rituals performed there. Demons had been summoned in the main hall of the spire. I spit on the ground in disgust at the vileness of our enemies. One thing is for sure, some spirits would not need to find rest, having been consumed be demons. More corpses of my people and our allies soon followed. I derived some satisfaction of finding some bodes of our enemies as well. Remains of demons, tamed beasts and corpses, some having fallen into traps, but the enemies had pushed onwards. It was no longer possible to mourn for every corpse. Keeping track of them failed soon after. Killed and mutilated, countless of losses. Was the war worth this much loss of life? Could it have been anticipated and avoided? If I had arrived sooner, could I have changed things in any way? Self-doubt gnawed at me from inside.

I found myself breathing a sigh of relief that my enemies were not around anymore, when I came across the corpse of one of our powerful guardians; a creature capable of giving pause to entire armies. I was quickly overwhelmed with shame at such a cowardly thought; a guilt at not having been here. I sped onwards to get to higher sections of the spire, only to pause when I came across the corpse of what I recognized was a great hero of our foes. I did not know her name, but at least our enemies were leaving behind corpses of their own now, and of the mightiest among them even. I was likely exhausted when I finally reached the more elevated levels of the massive structure, but my flaring emotions kept me going. I also had to know. I would not stop before I knew how far the enemy had penetrated into our domain. I wish now I had turned back at this point. Perhaps I should never even have set foot in my ancestral lands in the first place. Had I known what was next, I might have done so…

My heart… froze, is the word. The next level was more of a nursery than anything else. This had been no corridor of trained and armed troops. No elaborate trap or well-planned magical defense. This was an area where children played, frolicked and learned the basic skills of life. No longer… Corpses of children, none were spared by our merciless foes. Blades, claws and magic had torn them to shreds, not all children had been killed fleeing or cowering. Some had definitely tried to protect themselves and others, as had their caretakers. Seeing the lifeless bodies of children is something very different from seeing dead soldiers on a battlefield. This… No one should ever have to see this. It is an Evil this world should never know. The ages of the children varied. Years, months… days. Mere babies denied their chance of life. All had shared in each other’s fate. A generation lost. An unnatural coldness froze my heart. I feel it inside, even now. I… wandered. I don’t know how long… I was lost in every sense of the world. I cried, yelled, held some close to me. I think I might have vomited of a ledge. The scenes blur together and rise whenever my mind wanders. I cannot write on this any longer…

I forced myself away. Onwards. Fleeing, practically. Everything to get away from that scene. Eventually I made it to the high levels of the tower. There were fewer corpses of my people to run into, though they were among the strongest forces available. Many invaders had lost their lives to them, before they too had been overcome. One of our most powerful allies, a powerful mage, I found as I got closer to the top. Horrific wounds had been the cause of his defeat, and his body had been robbed of its boots and gloves. On closer inspection I discovered however, that the man was not dead! Chilled by the freezing wind at this height, he had somehow persevered! I rushed towards him and quickly took out some bandages. He told me not to waste my efforts on him. He said, interrupted by bloodied coughs and exhausted gasps for breath; “It is too late for me, friend… My faltering will is all that keeps me hanging on… It did… all I could… to stop the blinded fiends… I… I killed many… So many… Did I do right?” As he breathed in deeply and slowly, I told him that a man giving as much as he in defense of noble goals and innocent people, could be considered nothing else than the greatest of heroes. His heart could rest at ease. He gripped my arm and looked at me intently, as he spoke his final words at me. “My actions have all been in defense of our people, of this world. Tell my wife. All I have done has been for the good of Azeroth. Tell Trisha… I…”… I will one day tell his wife he loved her and that he did what he had to do, I vowed to myself. I closed his eyes and laid his cold and drained form to rest. The man was not of my people, but it mattered not. He had died with us, as one of us. I wish for his soul to be at peace…

I vowed to waste no more time. I had to reach my goal; the greatest of my people. No matter the strength and numbers of the forces that had faced us, our leader was brilliant and had powers beyond imagining. I worried more of his mental state than his physical well-being. This wasn’t the first conflict in which so many of our people had perished, and the previous time it had taken heavy toll on his mind as well. I decided to spend my mana. There was no longer a need to be conservative with it. Portals I forged to get from level to level. I tried to ignore the gruesome sight of more lives taken. Only a few were still guards and the mightiest of heroes. A lot of others were innocents. Teens and children that had managed to escape the horrors below, evacuated only to be followed by gruesome fate. Slashed by weapons and scarred horribly by elemental energies. My heart felt as if it were incased in ice with crystals pointing inwards. My sealed mind almost caused me not to realize I had reached the final level of the spire. Some 16 of my people were at the top, along the edges of the platform. In the middle was who I had come to see; the eldest, wisest and strongest of our people.

Dead… My eyes could not accept the sight before me as truth. It was an illusion, had to be. This wasn’t real. I approached the elder’s lifeless form. One of my people moved to intercept me, but another held him back. My approach lasted 10 seconds that felt like 10 minutes. My equilibrium seemed disrupted, likely because my legs were trembling. I felt as I was falling, away from this world and directly into the cold embrace of death. My palm touched upon a freezing cold form. No trick. No elaborate illusion. No prank or test of character was revealed; just bitter truth. The center of society was gone. A blow had been delivered from which we would never recover. The Death of Malygos…

Lost. Without our Aspect. The Titans themselves had appointed the Spellweaver as steward of all arcane magic. Forever he had led our people. He, above all else, represented the spirit and essence of my race. Most of my life has been spend in service of a task worded by him. Without our leader, we are lost, lacking direction. My feeling were mirrored of the faces of those around me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I stood there, a hollow shell of myself. Darkness finds you in such moments. Rage begins to overwhelm grief. The Kirin Tor, the most selfish of them all. Greedy power-hungry mageocrates who would play dice with the fate of the world to retain their arcane, and therefore political, power. The forces of The Alliance and The Horde, so easily manipulated and bought into fighting those who fight to ensure their long term survival. Alexstrasza, the so-called Life-binder. My anger grew as I noticed an imprint of claws molten into the layer of frost covering the platform I stood upon; claws so big they could only belong to her. The dragon queen herself had been here and had looked victorious upon the corpse of Malogos. The Aspect tasked with protecting all life, responsible for the greatest loss of it since horrid Deathwing. As black Neltharion became Deathwing, the Aspect of Death, Alexstrasza the crimson was now certainly the Aspect of Blood.

Why had this happened? Why had noble races turned on each other? How had the forces against us been tricked into stopping us from trying to save the world from itself? Surely if Malygos, the most brilliant mind in existence, was willing to go so far to save the world, you’d have to be a fool to fight against it? What had inspired this blind madness, and the gruesomeness of the actions of which I had witnessed the results? Perhaps it takes one such as I to see the truth. A member of a race now twice ruined in such a way. Maybe no one else can see the patterns. Neltharion, protector of the world had fallen first, becoming Deathwing, threat to all the world. Now Y’sera, the verdant Lady of Dreams, is dreaming up Nightmare. The Aspect of Life is responsible for extreme genocide and the bronze flight is fighting a corrupt dragonflight from the future, with identical powers, that tries to disrupt, rather than preserve the time line. Every flight but the Azure seems to be doing the opposite of the Titans’ intent. Five Old gods there once were, trying to disrupt the Titans’ creation, so five Aspects were appointed to preserve Azeroth. One of the Old gods was killed, its skull still decorating Auberdine. Four Aspects have seemingly been corrupted, while four Old Gods survived. One Aspect’s corruption has been confirmed as caused by the whispering of an Old god. If the same is true for the bronze, verdant and crimson flights, is it any surprise the remaining Aspect had to die?

Regardless of if I am wrong or not, a growing darkness cannot be denied. The fate of the world balances upon the edge of a knife and is subject to forces I cannot hope to stand against. I feel now as though no hope remains. A vital part of the Titans’ creation has been undone. Malygos saw threats others could or would not see and was killed by those he tried to protect. I have lost all hope for our world. Few of my people remain and our power is spent. There is nothing more we can do as this world hurtles towards its ultimate destruction… I did not linger in the presence of my fallen leader for long. As others made arrangements for the safe evacuation of dangerous artifacts our enemies had not succeeded in claiming from our hands, there was little that could occupy my mind for any length of time. I was given some items of magic, in hopes it would aid my survival in a world that had come to reject and hate us. I had no interest in descending the spire through the Occulus and Nexus’ hallways, as my mind began to realize the amazing spire I stood upon, once pride of my flight, was now nothing but a tomb. I spread my wings and flew away in no particular direction. I have no path to follow. No direction. No mission. No destiny. I am frozen. I am broken. I am lost…

My name is ...-(Anonymous)-..., survivor of the Blue Dragonflight.

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