In times gone by, many a long night I spent roaming the plains of Alterac Valley, waging war on the Alliance. Everything’s all wham bam thank you Ma’am these days, but back then, battles in Alterac were epic affairs. Hours turned into days as we fought to defend the Keep, moving from stout defence to rapier attack and back again. One experienced a sense of achievement, even in defeat, when a battle had ended and there are many who look back on these glorious days with a sad regret tinged with the fondest of memories. I paid a visit a few weeks back to Drek’Thar, a brave chief whose side I had fought by many times, to catch up on recent events and to relive old adventures. He was his usual garrulous self and as always, was never short of something to say.
Ah Magpawacar, you have returned my friend. Long it has been since you have entered the domain of the Frostwolf. It is indeed good to see you once more. A little bird has informed me of your efforts in telling the stories of the citizens of Azeroth. I can only commend you and wish you well. These are strange and dangerous times for all of us. Our very existence is in peril, the defiant Scourge threaten all that we hold dear. And yet whilst our brethren are valiantly defending our freedoms and beliefs in the frozen north, we must remain vigilant here in the Valley. Vanndar remains as scurrilous as ever, his minions forever pillaging and rampaging through our outposts. Their confidence knows no bounds these days, safe in the knowledge that their positional advantages offer them more chances of victory than defeat. Yet, lest they forget, we are the Frostwolf and as long as my blood flows through my veins, Alterac Valley will never truly succumb to the Alliance menace. One day I will face Vanndar and put constant war to bed once and for all. He shall know his true place in the history of Azeroth, a bitter defeat at the hands of Drek’Thar. That day will come, Magpawacar and I hope you will allow yourself to be a part of it.
I’ll not lie to you, dear comrade, times are tough. The never-ending snows of the Great Winter continue to swirl about the Valley with little signs of a thaw. The Alliance deplete our packs of wolves and accordingly food shortages are commonplace. Perilous expeditions to the north are required more often to replenish our food supplies, and too often have I lost brave warriors and hunters in the quest for sustenance. There once was a time when the plains were abundant with wild beasts, providing enough food for all in the Valley. Now the scavengers rule with vicious abandon, driven by hunger and their desire to live themselves. I cannot foresee an end, Magpawacar, but hope must not die or we are doomed.
We have adapted to meet the challenges that face us. We conserve our resources wisely, using only the bare minimum to keep warm in the cold nights. The braziers are extinguished by midnight to save on fuel, the guards clothed in thick warm hides, imported from the fur traders of Northrend. Our meals are rationed and still my brave people stand tall against those brazen dwarfs and their human patsies. We shall fight them from the watchtowers and fight them on the hills and in the caves. We shall never surrender. The proud warriors of the Horde have my word on that. Tell the people Magpawacar what you now know. Relight the fires of Horde resistance against the Stormpike. Let the Frostwolf not be forgotten in the heart and minds of our companions. We can achieve a new beginning and forge our own destiny. Farewell, my brother. For the Horde!
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