The plague has been working its way northwards as it becomes harder and harder to contain. I see undead roaming the streets, attacking others with their bare decayed hands. They are slow moving, but will retch over the floor - mercilessly infecting any who cross their paths. The disease is highly contagious; many people have succumbed to it in front of my eyes. It does not take long for it to fully consume its victims. The more contact they have with the undead, the quicker it seems to take hold.
You can tell who is infected, they posess an eerie green aura. There seems to be a cure - if you can catch it early enough; but it requires all the magical strength of our best healers. Naturally, I feel helpless towards these unfortunate souls. Shops and services are closing, their keepers no longer available. A part of me wants to run and withdraw myself from civilisation like I did during the third war. It was, in the end, all that had helped me to survive the onslaught. Would that make me a coward? Maybe I should return home to Quel'Thalas, to my people, and ward off the Scourge invaders so that they can't destroy the city like they did the last time.
Friday October 24, 2008
wow kates, mat showed me this site with your diaries…very impressive indeed.
Quoth sarah on 24 October 2008, 18:33 | Link