A Dragon's Lament.

[Kroljas]

Evictus sat down, a quill in hand. On the table in front of him, a few pages of parchment and a bottle of ink. He sighed, looking at his surroundings. The quiet part of the Wayfarer's Rest was dimmed, a few others sitting at a nearby table, talking of old times over a glass of Thallasian Wine. He smirked to himself, starting to take the quill to paper.

- To the brave soul that finds these pages, I urge you, learn from my mistakes. Learn from the horrid things I've done, from what I shouldn't have done, from what I didn't do.

-My early life.

When I was a child, I was not of the Bronze flight. I was not hatched from an egg in the great rookery, deep within the caverns. I was the son of a farmer, my grandfather a priest. I was the eldest of three, the other two girls. Etheres and Janais. We were all brought up to pursue different fields. My youngest sister, Janais, was brought up to be a spy. And Etheres, a magus. Myself, I was brought up to become a priest, like my grandfather.


I grew and learned as any human would. I studied under Arch-Bishop Benedictus, studying the Light. I learned as much as I could, healing, as well as the Light's fury. After many years, and two great wars, I found myself in lordaeron, working with the great nation's military as a healer.


Although the amount of good I did was widely known amongst the various militant forces. I was, proud, for once in my life. Until, of course, the 'great' Prince, Arthas, went power hungry and began to be seduced by Nehr'zul. I believed in his words, I truly did. That was my first great mistake.

[Kroljas]

-The Scourge years

I slaughtered hundreds, perhaps a thousand. The souls of the innocent lost into time imemorial. They did nothing to warrant their death, and yet, at the time, it was my purpose to slay them.

My eye, replaced by the cursed jewel, granted me much power. It was too much for any one man to be able to handle, too much for any being in existance.

It was three years that I did Nehr'zul's bidding, and for three years I reveled in the wanton slaughter of fishing villages, settlements, and even Lordaeron. With each soul set free to wander, my power grew.

I met a great man, during that time. Mesoni Traselghan, The Blightbringer. He too, knew what his existance meant. He fought every second in his own mind, unable to free himself. We shared the same predicament, and, when nehr'zul's power waned, we both were set free.

It was at that time that I knew what I had to do.

[Kroljas]

*The words on the page have a different font now, more jagged, less organized, as though the writer were off in some way.*

There is no need to write my history anymore, what's done is done and must be forgotten. My actions in the present will change the future, they will change fate.

Hah, fate, a thing I once believed in. In my position, I should know that fate is a lie. There is no true predetermined destiny, only events that are bound to happen.

I have determined such events, and I have tried to ensure their coming to pass, but certain events, I wish to change. Certain events, I wish had never happened.

Janje... I loved you. I gave myself to you and you blissfully denied me. Your love for the orphans, for Razor Hill, for the horde was too great, but, you denied me.

Never again.

Never again will that happen. I will not allow it.

But perhaps it is too late.

Perhaps, my time is nearing, and all that I have strived for, all that I have strived to correct in my past, will be for nothing.

But that is for you to decide, reader. You must take what you have found and the knowledge left here, and use it for good. Do not make the same mistakes that I have made.