A Faded Journal

[Rigley]

I was only a child when it began.


We still lived in the motherland then, in our ancestral roots of Alterac. For as long as history could chronicle we lived there, and our lineage prospered. My father and mother were born in the capitol, and it was from there I was raised; brought up in the realm of nobility and privilege we enjoyed so freely. Even now my memories of my youth there are vivid, painted vibrantly in my mind as if crafted by the measured hand of the world's most delicate artist. I recall the fine silken cloth of my mother's dress, the firm hand of my father as he guided me by the hand to attendance at the chapel. The laughter and youthful exuberance of my peers and the sweet, long lost songs of the homeland still ring in my ears. Lost to the world, but not to I.


My father was a passing figure in my life, but a figure I was proud to have known. He was a man of broad stature and sizable height, and though by no means a man of physical prowess he commanded a certain presence about him which demanded respect. He was hardly visible for most of my life, always passing in and out, bound far away on another distant journey for the purposes of trade. He supported the family as my mother remained at home to care for my brother and I, and though he had the wealth to live a true life of idleness and luxury he cared little for such a notion. He told us that he did not work for his own sake, but for ours; so that our family coffers would never run dry from the slothful behavior of his generation. In us he instilled loyalty and commitment-- that though we were nobility, we need not rely on our fortunes to carry us all our lives. He had time for little more between his trips, but to us he always gave kind wishes and gifts upon his return, and seldom a day together in his presence while he rested for a trip of great importance. I valued our time together, for I knew it was but a cycle of the sun above until I would see him departing out of our fair city's gates, bound for worlds unknown to me.


When I awoke that day, it was not the departing caravans of merchants that greeted my eyes, though. The festival lane which ran through the city to the main arches out was crowded not with travelers nor the delegates of a kingdom bound to our crown, but soldiers. I saw their firm, stoic faces as they wheeled into marching position along the cobbled road, pikes and blades presented and our proud standard raised amongst them, alongside the banner of the human Alliance.

For we of Alterac the war was a far off notion, told to us only by the travelers of the other kingdoms. A turmoil brewing in the kingdoms below, so far removed that it seemed unlikely for it ever to come near our presence. And yet it had, and this had been our response.


Like a sea of metal our forces progressed down the main street, departing from us towards the battlefields of the south. They were all young, inexperienced-- and though I was only at the tender age of ten even I knew better than to believe the emotions of the crowd. Below I saw the townsfolk cheering, smiling weakly as their brothers, fathers and sons progressed in a march before them. I knew though, and I am sure now, that they knew it as little more than a death march. A journey that these youths would never return from. They tried their best to mask their anguish, to quell their heartache; but the true concern and sorrow was just beneath the skin, pouring out with each forced cry of excitement or solemn salute.


My eyes in particular came to rest on one woman amongst the crowd, the young daughter of a local smith. She was only just twenty, or so she was young enough to appear so; I recall her eyes scanning over the lines of proceeding men like that of a hawk's, searching for her prey. Suddenly she moved, sprinting into the oncoming wave in a blur of motion, stopping only as her arms wrapped around that of a young soldier. Tears streamed from her face, and amidst the ongoing flow of men they stood, seeking to placate their grieving hearts. She was led back to her family, some words exchanged; and with that he left her.

He was never to return again, nor were any of these men. I was told later that day what they had told their families; “We go to win this war. Do not worry- we will be back within the month”. So many had rehearsed this, as if told explicitly the words by their commanders.


And yet, months dragged on. The war was not won, and they returned, but only as a battered shield or a faded and torn letter from the front. The life of privilege I knew was warped into one of fear and anticipation, with every day heralding only further news of the Horde's advance, and the atrocities left in their wake. Rations became imposed upon us, and the youth of fighting age disappeared from our taverns and academies and into battlements and camps in the foothills, replaced by soldiers from the outer villages as our noble land began to fold in upon itself, like a weakened beast awaiting its final blow.

Many fled to the north. Many of the other children I knew were no longer there the next day, or if they were it was to bid me goodbye, and good luck. We stayed, though. We were prideful, and loyal to the royal Perenolde. We stood alongside him and our city, in spirit if not in arms.


The worst was yet to come.

[Rigley]

Out from the balcony of my family estate I often cast my gaze up, up into the shining lights of the heavens above.

Where once there was silence in peace, night had then become one of anticipation for the terrors which lurked just beyond the rising sun. As the Orcs marched, bound north, everyday became one of waiting. We stood at rapt attention every time a scout returned to report their sightings-- and each clear sweep gave us but momentary respite from the fear of the Orcish raiders. We listened and laid in wait, for by this point there was little that could be done to escape the warpath which was barreling towards us.

I recall that night that it was particularly late, after all had been called to bed. Not all, though, slept so peacefully as my mother and younger brother. From below I heard the manor door swinging open and closing. My interest peaked from averting sleep a moment more I came to the balcony of my room, looking down as my father convened with a group of other men of esteem in our city of Alterac-- alongside them retainers of the royals and the General Hath of our fledgling army.

There was a sense of concern amongst them. From the balcony above I could see the shadows play over their faces, and see their cautious glances to one another. My father came to them, joined into their fold alongside the others of nobility. Slowly they processed away, bound for the king's home and out of sight.

I was enraptured. I knew what I saw was not meant for my eyes; that I was meant to be bound for bed, sleeping and blissfully unaware. I could only imagine what my father would say if he were to discover my onlooking eyes from our home.

And yet I stood still, peering below and waiting. There was something that I sensed from the way they spoke, and moved-- I had a thirst for knowledge, and my curiosity left me there upon the balcony, lying in wait for when my father and his company would return.


Time passed slowly, only my eyes and the stars above keeping silent watch over the streets below. After about an hour I found myself wavering, chilled by this point by the night air. Then, I heard them.

Coming up from the royal estate were noblemen, my father conversing quietly with them. I leaned out to hear as they came closer, and in doing so felt a floorboard creak beneath me. One of the retainers accompanying them snapped full attention in my direction above-- and so I ran. I fled to my bed, and did not rise until morning.

When I did there was confusion wrought upon our people. They stood gathered around the flagpole in the center of our city, as Perenolde's men came forward to speak. Slowly the whole city seemed to mute itself, waiting in silent anticipation for words which would explain the sight they saw.

A new banner hung beneath the standard of Alterac today, and it was not of any kingdom we had known before. Words of comfort and complacency came from the retainers, seeking to quell their troubles. The people believed heartily, or so they sought to appear as such. Perhaps it was out of fear that they cheered. Others simply sunk away into the crowd.


And yet they only had brought more.