Those That Remain

A fistful of ash. That is what I always believed my fate to be. Yet fate had other plans. Instead of falling to the fire I once commanded, I succumbed to the cold embrace of the Twisting Nether. A fitting end for one who abandoned his ancestors and embraced the Burning Legion.

Still, I curse my fate. I followed my chieftain?my elder, Ner'zhul. Where the elements once spoke, I listened. But I betrayed them. Demonic whispers filled the void, and I welcomed them. I was stronger than ever. I do not fully regret my path; I still wield the power granted by our former masters.

What I seek now is vengeance, upon all who claim to follow Gul'dan. My soul, trapped in a shard, was denied death. And now I stand in the rotting flesh of a woman foolish enough to challenge the Horde. There is no rest for the wicked, but not all retain their sense of self. Travel to the Ruins of Breezehaven, and lay to rest those that remain.

None are deserving of such a cruel fate.

Mindless undead. Some are nothing more than flesh waiting to be cut down; others, the lingering essences of those who were?forever trapped. You have fulfilled your task.