Year of the Fel Fire

The year had seen scarring wars and desperate pledges for peace. Heroes were forged in the battlefield. The same heroes were unmade and corrupted. And the state of things was shown to me with more clarity than I wanted.

Corruption was spreading everywhere. Any attempts of redemption were proven futile. Victims of old forgotten crimes were still being dug up. Madmen ruled nations. Justice was what the wretched did to the innocent. Peace was just the calm before the storm. Freedom was the freedom to kill as many as you could. The Light was a blessing bestowed to the most wretched murderers. Valor was measured in the blood of the innocents.

The first hours of the new year showed the shape of things to come. Carnage had become the ultimate goal. Massacre was an end, not a means. There was no room left for ambiguity. Their words of venom betrayed their true goals. It was time for a new invasion, and new harbringers of destruction had been chosen. Names such as Gul'dan and Ner'zhul were being replaced by new names. Staghelm. Bronzebeard. Fordragon. Mekkatorque. But this time there would be four instead of one. This time even the Magus would be powerless. No words of wisdom would be heard. No last-minute truces, no valiant comrades in arms, no selfless sacrifices.

The path is once again set. The sickly green flames of the future were all too clear. The new year would be decisive. The year where the Fel Fire would once again fall from the skies to consume all.

And may Shadra's web catch us, should we fail.