Chapter 2: Valgarde (2) - Changes

~ Valgarde,the 26th day of the third month since the burning of Havenshire

I am a recruit, again.

I have expected snow and blizzards, but at this time of the year the southern parts of Northrend are covered in green. The air is cool, and the sun does not burn as heavily as elsewhere, but there are pickets of evergreens and oaks, fields of oats and maize as far as the eye can see. Farms are tightly packed together around Valgarde, so that their people can run to the safety of the walls should the need arise.

These are hard people, used to hold both the sickle and the sword, soldiers turned into farmers and into soldiers again. They do not complain about their fate, but cherish the memory of “home”… forested hills rolling under the deep blue sky of Tirisfal…the golden plains of Andorhal… the glorious cathedrals of Stratholme shining into the sun…

I cannot tell them what our land has become.

After five weeks of lurching on a boat in the immensity of the frozen sea, this expanse of solid ground managed to lift my spirits. I have been swiftly assigned to a recruits unit and given a tiny place in the barracks. I did not intend to remain for too long here, but I have nowhere else to go, no other allegiance. It’s hard to keep the emptiness I feel at bay for too long.

Valgarde came under attack soon after our ship had docked. The enemies have been repelled, but they might come yet again. A race of brutish giants – vrykul, as they call themselves – they have appeared seemingly out of nowhere some month ago. During their last foray, a week before, they took a number of prisoners – soldiers as well as civilians. Vice admiral Keller, who runs this operation, has sent scouts to investigate the situation and rescue the captives. However, most of them had been captured by the vrykul and given to a terrible fate – impaled and left do to die slowly, in terrible pain, in sight of Valgarde’s walls. My unit has been tasked with recovering the bodies and rescuing any survivors there may be. It’s a grim mission and people are muttering that they are risking their own lives for nothing.

I remember tree branches bent under their weight. I remember ropes and crows. I shut my eyes tight over those memories – they come back to me as through a haze and I deep inside I wonder why I had never noticed before…
I remember terror. I remember how strong it can be, even when you tread in the ways of Light…

Our enemies shouldn’t be allowed this…No, I will do what it takes.

I spent the whole evening polishing my armor. The breastplate is worn and dented, the symbols of Hope barely visible now, but still gives off sparks when catching the sunlight. I have been offered a new one, from the scarce supply of spare military equipment Valgarde has. However, I cannot make myself give up the familiar things that seem to have their own life under my fingers as I go through the evening ritual. The other men watch me warily – one or two, grizzled soldiers, nodded in understanding. There is no need to do it every day. I could slacken discipline, throw my things in a pile under the bed and no one would complain. Valgarde garrison doesn’t seem to have a lot of rules.

Yet it comforts me to respect even small parts of the old routine. They are the only think solid in a world that had changed beyond my imagination.


~ Light, I humbly offer you my prayers that you take me into your care and make me see the purpose you placed in my life. Guide me forever in your sight and do not let my steps falter, nor the strength of my arm fail in my faithful service to you.