Northrend experiences

To Whomever has pried this tome from the Library in Stormwind or Stromgarde....

 I find it dificult sometimes, to think about what I have done. I often find that I stop in the middle of reading a book, or writing a letter, sometimes just eating and I think...What have I done? What have I done to others, what have I done to my family...to innocents...to myself?....

 to Whomever reads this,

It has been over a week since my last entry. I regret having not been able to keep the journal up to date with my experiences, but unfortunately, I've lost two more members of my squad (pending replacements) and I spent most of the week, in a small dungeon beneath a abandoned Alliance farm.

When I had recovered from my bout with the flu contracted at Warsong Farms, as a reward for all the hard work we'd been doing, my squad got a change of pace from our usual bloody work and were assigned to POW duty. We were to transport a small group of Alliance deserters to a spot near Valliance keep.

Simple, right?

 To Whomever reads this.

I am currently writing this from the infirmary in Warsong Hold. I started this morning very early and very suddenly. We were yanked from our bedrolls at about four in the morning and marched up to the roof of the fortress where a Magister used some sort of flying...carpet or something to transport us behind enemy lines.

Our job was simple, yet it loomed greatly.

We were to drive a set of tanks through the plains of Nasam and cut down as many Undead as we could, to clear ourselves a path to a outpost near the overrun Warsong Farms and to Warsong Hold.

We had to repair the damn things first.

Foam topped waves broke in the distance, the sound they made like the rhythmic breath of a huge beast. Or the beat of a heart. A lonely one. Sev pulled the blanket tighter against her shoulders. Light, she felt cold…

Too many times of late she had found herself thinking how much she yearned for the times when good was good and wrong was wrong and no path to tread in between. She had heard it named fanaticism, the Scarlet Crusade blamed for its unyielding attitude against the evil, yet it felt comforting to know what you had to do. But then the seed of doubt had taken deep roots in her soul - who decided what was good and what wrong?