Silverpine Forest, Forsaken Rear Guard
There are too many memories in these woods. Far too many for me to be comfortable in Silverpine Forest. The whole time I’ve been clinging to the few that aren’t painful in some way – my, aren’t you in an emotional mood, you old fool? Get over it. It’s a nice place, if you like that sort of thing. Ripe with opportunities, I keep telling myself. So, maybe I passed the place of my death and my old grave on the walk over to the Rear Guard. So what? It really is a land of opportunity if a man can return from eternal sleep to wreak unholy vengeance.
I still don’t like it. I hope the so-called ‘friends’ who killed me got caught up in the Cataclysm. Or crapped on by wyverns. Maybe dragons ate them? A man can dream.
I wasn’t around when the Forsaken found my remains and hauled them over to High Command. Perhaps that’ll sound obvious. No, I wasn’t around, not because I was dead, but because my wandering spirit had better things to do than sit around and mope all the livelong day. No, I’m not going to tell you what I was doing.
One minute there I was, floating around…doing things, as you do, then the next minute I was lying on my back, staring up at an overcast sky, feeling strangely heavy. That’s the only way to describe it. Heavy. A weight I had become unused to. And it was glorious. My entire body seethed with dark power for a few precious moments, then it was gone and I hungered for more. I feel strangely empty all the time – as though the join between my soul and this dead shell is somehow imperfect and something is seeping out. I shall fill that void, mark my words. I’m back.