World of Warcraft - Remembrance of Sorrow Chapter One

Tirisfal Glades, Deadwind Pass

"Where is this? Why is it so dark? Ah, my head hurts… Who am I?" At that moment, a very ethereal voice called out in his mind: "Awaken, you have slept long enough. You should not lie here. The flames of hatred will rise again, and we must take revenge."

"Wait, revenge? Revenge on whom?" At that moment, a body slowly opened its hazy eyes, sat up with its stiffened body, and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Instantly, his mind went blank.

"Who am I?" The voice said to take revenge, but what exactly was going on? The more he thought, the worse his head hurt, so he gave up thinking, stood up, and walked out of the dim tomb, trying all the way to straighten his body, but all attempts failed. Climbing the stairs, it wasn't long before he reached the doorway. At that moment, the sky was gloomy and it was raining, making it hard to tell what time it was. With the light, he lifted his hands in front of himself and started examining his body. Apart from the palms and some flesh on the arms and thighs, most of his body had rotted, to be precise, the bones were exposed. Only the lower abdomen revealed two deep white ribs, while the upper part was still intact. He then reached back with his left hand, searching, and when he touched the exposed spine, he wasn't surprised.

"No wonder, ha~, an undead, huh?" He instinctively touched his chin with his right hand, as if thinking or caring about his face. But he didn't feel awkward about it; it seemed like a motion he had been used to for a long, long time.

"Not too bad," he muttered. Moving forward a few steps, what caught his eyes was an exceptionally large graveyard, countless tombstones, and a group of unconscious undead wandering around. He knew they were unconscious because sometimes these corpses would pull arrows out of their bodies, look at them, and then stick them somewhere else.

He looked back at the tomb he had just exited and murmured, "Looks like I'm luckier than you guys." When he reached the gates of this ruin, he hadn't yet spoken when the undead standing there said: "Welcome back, buddy. If you hadn't woken up, I'd probably have had to re-bury my bones again.""After speaking, he slightly moved his body and actually produced a 'clack, clack' sound. He knew it was the sound of bones and joints rubbing together. Of course, the volume was definitely impossible for a living person to make. "So, you were specifically waiting for me here. By the way, who exactly am I? What kind of place is this? And I..." "Stop!" He crossed his hands in a gesture. "I know you have many questions, and I will help answer them one by one. But can we go into the room ahead first and then slowly go through them? I don't particularly enjoy talking in the rain." At this moment, he realized that the rain had already soaked both of them thoroughly, but strangely, he did not feel any cold, while the person in front of him felt the exact opposite. "Sorry, my bad," he made a polite gesture, and the two walked together into the room not far ahead. As soon as they entered, the spirit began speaking: "By the way, my name is Winsock, I am the mayor of this town, Bellgrave." But his hands were busy first lighting the fireplace, then taking a bottle of alcohol and sitting opposite him. He took a big gulp first, then asked, "Want some? Although this wine is a bit past its prime." He waved his hand to indicate he didn't need any. Winsock continued, "Oh, you'll understand later, we also need to eat." He particularly emphasized the word 'eat.' What he really wanted to know was whether he could still taste the wine. "Alright, now let's start answering your questions." After listening to Winsock, he roughly understood. It turned out he was a blood elf. In Arthas' time, to harness the power of the Sunwell to resurrect Kel'Thuzad, he led soldiers to break into Silvermoon City. In that battle, his life was ended by Arthas using Frostmourne, and his soul was taken. But because of the subsequent loss of power, his soul broke free from control and was bound to his body by Queen Sylvanas, who called a warlock to use dark magic on him. Yet, due to unknown reasons, he couldn't resurrect like other undead. Recently, the queen obtained a piece of green crystal, so she called Winsock to embed the crystal in him and ordered the warlock to perform three days of dark magic. Only then did his soul consolidate and he was resurrected. "Sylvanas," he murmured. Was the ethereal voice he heard before his resurrection her?"By the way, you should now address the Queen with respect. Also, can you remember your own name?" 'I've tried, but to no avail. My current memory is mostly blank.' 'Forget it.' Wensock took another sip of wine and said, 'Before she left, the Queen told me: Your name will be Kano. You are a thief.' 'Kano? A thief?' he said. 'That's my name? My name is Kano?' 'What's wrong with that? Kid, you should be grateful to have a name given by the Queen. We are the forgotten ones, and the Queen is the only goal we can follow. Alright, I've answered all your questions. Now you should go find your goal.' 'Goal? What goal?' After another large gulp of wine, Wensock shouted, 'Of course, it's to find a master. Although you were a thief in your previous life, it's been so long, are you sure you can still use those skills freely? Without a master to uncover your potential abilities, when you encounter humans trying to eliminate us, are you sure you won't get "purified" by them?' 'This...' 'Go to the terrifying inn in Brill; maybe you can find the person you're looking for there. Oh, and also give this letter to Arren, the administrator at City Hall. He will give you some necessary help.' Saying this, he took the damp letter from his bosom. Wensock then exclaimed, 'My memory really is failing me, I forgot we were caught in the rain just now. Never mind, I guess you won't mind either, right, Kano?' Kano made a helpless gesture, took the letter that smelled of some unknown odor, tucked it into his robe, and turned to step outside. 'Follow the road signs and keep heading north. I suppose your sense of direction is still intact, right?' 'Wensock, I don't think I've reached the point of needing a compass yet.' 'Good. As a thief, at least you have that basic skill. Go then.' Just as Kano was about to step out the door, he noticed a corpse outside the ruins charging in mindlessly. Suddenly, a black shadow moved with lightning speed behind it. A brilliant red light quickly slashed along the left side of the brainless corpse's body and then silently disappeared into the rainy darkness, moving so fast that it seemed as if it had never appeared at all. For some reason, Kano himself could see the instant the 'person' struck.And that rotten corpse remained motionless in its original place, but at that moment a 'tsk' sound was heard. The corpse was cut from its right eye to its left abdomen, and the cut went all the way through. That 'tsk' was the sound of the corpse splitting in two. With a 'puh' sound, the two halves fell to the ground, spilling the filthy innards inside, showing how 'fast, fierce, and precise' the strike had been. At some point, sweat had started to trickle down Kano's temple. Only after Wensock called him did he come back to his senses. 'Kid, what's wrong? Don't tell me you're wondering if there's an umbrella here for you?' Seeing that Kano had regained his composure, he gave Wensock a vague expression that he couldn't tell if it was a smile: 'Old man, I think I've found it.' 'Found what? Memories? Wealth? Hurry up, stop dawdling, for heaven's sake.' Kano walked out the door, heading toward the ruined iron gate. Suddenly, Wensock threw a small package to him. Kano reached out and caught it, while Wensock finished the bottle of wine in his hand, saying: 'Child, before I left, the Queen told me, "You are hope." I could not understand fully what she meant, but I hope that you can see your own hope, your own goal, and don't lose yourself. Keep going!' Saying this, he waved his hand, signaling him to go. Hearing these words, Kano suddenly felt an indescribable sensation in his heart. "Warmth? A strange feeling." He glanced at Wensock's hunched back as he turned away, then stretched his body briefly before slumping down again, and said: 'Old man, you're really talkative.' He looked at the bottle in Wensock's hand, which was labeled 'Myersdark Rum', and then walked straight out. (End of Chapter One. It's not written very well; please give feedback. Just practicing original writing. If you like it, support me a little, give me some motivation.)