The man that inspired me to become a Paladin of the Church of the Holy Light, whose words bolstered us all when we needed them the most, is gone.
I was one of the many that was tasked with recovering him from the Broken Shore. Tirion Fordring. He seemed … unbreakable. He seemed like he would live forever.
I had never, ever seen someone in so much agony. When the Scourge kills, they kill, there is an end to their victims’ suffering. Not so with the Legion. They seek to cause as much suffering as they possibly can, and would do so for all eternity, if their victims would last that long.
I am certain he died in agony.
I would prefer to stay at home with Gyll and Perry, to not have to go out there and face down what is possibly the worst foe we have ever faced - but I do not want them to wind up like Tirion. I do not want to see this world razed like so many others, and I certainly do not want to die to those demons.
I go. I need to. For them, for all of us, and for whoever comes after.
I am so sorry, my Highlord. I wish there had been more we could do.