Barraccus's story begins

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The night elf didn’t know who he was or what he was doing; he only cared about the next command from his lord and master. But he was betrayed, left to die on a battlefield as a distraction so that same master could get what he wanted. The plan failed, and the Lich King Arthas was driven off by Tirion Fordring and his paladins. And when he left, all of a sudden the night elf’s consciousness was returned to him. The fighting that had just occurred, the deaths he had caused, he remembered it all. However, he still had no idea who he was or what his name was. As the paladins around him closed in on him and the other death knights, he fell to his knees, covering his face with his blood-soaked hands.

He sensed more than saw or heard someone come up and stand next to him. He thought it was one of the paladins, coming to execute him. He waited for the deathblow, feeling like it was no less than what he deserved. But nothing happened, until a soft male voice said to him, “Come on, son. Let’s find a better place for you to sit.” He looked up and discovered another night elf in druid robes standing beside him with a kind look on his face. He stared at the druid for a long moment before lifting his hand to clasp the one the druid extended to him. As he helped the confused death knight to his feet, the druid said, “My name is Alanon. What’s yours?” The younger elf had a flash of memory come to him. He replied, “Barraccus. My name is Barraccus.”

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I would like to thank my buddy Crison of Unholy Presence for finally inspiring me to write about my Alliance characters, by putting a couple of them into the story of his shaman. This is the intro for my death knight, and more will be coming soon. Right now I have writing to do, see ya!