Every since that day when my family reclaimed me, I've vowed vengeance upon those that almost turned me against them.
I remember that cold, oily voice:
"Thiss one. Oh, thiss one hass sso much potential! Her associatess are powerful! The Masster will be pleassed! No mere foot soldier, sshe … sshe will provide uss with many opportunitiess!"
Aye, my own family – they would turn me against them! Even after I was Awakened by Mograine's daring rebellion, I was afraid that I'd somehow turn on them and rue the day that I came back.
Since the day I set foot back in my own home, I've vowed to fight against that with every breath I take. And I have.
I also vowed … that the Scourge would suffer. Maybe I can make them uncomfortable. Maybe I can teach them that Grimm, Jas, Flora, and Illume aren't the only members of this clan to contend with.
Today, I make my first steps into Northrend. The horrors here are more kin to me now than my own family. But my family is all I really have to fight for, and I'll fight to keep it safe, for myself.
The horrors of Northrend will know fear. They will know pain. They will know me.
And then they will die.
There are some in my order that can still feel the Lich King bearing down upon them, taunting them to come back. There are others that hear voices demanding vengeance, and that drives them. I … feel nothing. Nothing except a seething rage against Arthas and his kin.
It will have to do. Maybe I can find something better when I'm done.