Thanks Broken Horn Warband

Category:Stories
Category:Dragonstar
Thanks Broken Horn Warband
Written by Dragonstar, a character on the Earthen Ring server, and posted on the Blizzard Earthen Ring Forums
I was invited into the Warband precisely one year ago today, it would appear. Over the past year I have undergone many changes in regards to my goals in life and my outlook on the creatures of this plane. Most importantly, I have experienced the return of sorely missed emotions, which were buried way before my forsaken corpse. 
You all know me to be a rather loquacious individual, chattering endlessly about the manifestations of power we mages may embrace and even more of you probably know of my somewhat... hazardous... style of warfare *grins*. However, I have never once shared any personal feelings or my history with any of you on any level. I'm a very quantitative individual, and I tend to outline intentions for myself based on a long term schedule of sorts and discrete conditions. As such it is this day I'd long ago chosen to make a decision if I were still considered a member of this Warband. Simply put: stay, and reveal myself completely to all, or leave abruptly and take my past with me in betrayal to all the Warband has done for me over our time together. 
It must be clear to you that my decision is the former, because after all, announcing my betrayal here instead of in person would probably undermine the enjoyment one derives from sending the shock of betrayal through their victims, savoring its course through their veins as they undergo a gloriously chilling epiphany. Allow me to admit to you now: 
I know this feeling all too well. In the days when I could still breathe and bleed I was no more than absolute, pure ecstasy for a twisted mind. When Sylvanas awakened me, I completely intended to live an eternity the same way I felt I should have lived my human life--without the desire or need to trust another living being. 
Allow me to step back in time and tell you the story that shaped my life up to the point when I met the members of the Broken Horn Warband. 
I was born Dario Baterr. I was the son of Alexandros Baterr, a councilman of Southshore, and Julia Baterr, a mother of one who failed to survive the trying labors of child birthing. This being the time when Arthas was simply a young protégée of Uther, the lands of Arathi were rich and fertile and my father was very well off. Growing up, I was home-schooled by a retired councilman who was looked so far past his allotted time on Azeroth that in these days he'd be mistaken for one of the Forsaken. Though the interests I developed were mainly for mathematics, alchemy, and the arcane, I was expected to predominately keep to the "more practical" study of politics and world history *sigh*. In line with these important studies, our home was constantly 
occupied with strangers and pointless, endless discussion of the state of affairs in Southshore and Lordaeron. Such was the tedium of living out every day of my existence from toddler to teen; until I met Cassandra. 
When I was eighteen years of age my eyes caught those of an amazingly pretty creature in town through a shop window. Now, I was what you'd consider quite attractive and from a well known house, so I was not a stranger to female attention or indulgence ever since I had hair first start to appear on my chin. This particular young woman was a baker's daughter, plainly dressed but with an incredible air of grace and beauty despite this. I asked her for a loaf of bread, and then for her presence at dinner with me. Of course, Cassandra accepted. What was surprising was how much I enjoyed her company beyond my usual trophying of conquests about town and around my acquaintances. One dinner date turned into the next, and then day after day spent enjoying each other's company by the lake and many exhilarating a night on the town dancing and frequenting pubs. Needless to say, we were a young couple completely in love. 
Late one evening, she asked me to go into the woods with her, to what she claimed was her own special grove hidden deep within. Only mildly interested (Cassandra had what I'd almost consider a talent for over exaggeration), I went along. It was an oddly clear portion of the otherwise dense and endless wood that covered the area west of Southshore. To my surprise, it was the most tranquil and beautiful area I had ever seen. The air was calm and crisp; the area was dimly lit with the light of wisps that skittered around a small pond surrounded by beautiful flowers of all sorts. We lay on the open grass underneath the stars, drawing out forms they connected with out fingers and naming them. She said one of those constellations looked like a powerful dragon, but not a ferocious one-- one of the guardians of time; the honorable copper-skinned gatekeepers. She said the tales she'd heard of them somehow reminded her of me... having a fierce and powerful demeanor, but ultimately being ever-protecting and loving. I embraced her, and we made love for the first and only time that night. When I woke up in the morning, she was gone. 
I headed to her bakery, hailed her father and inquired about her. He looked at me as if I were insane and proclaimed he had no daughter. I asked him to stop joking around, explaining that we had fallen asleep in the wood the previous night and that I was worried about her. He stared blankly at me and then just laughed, calling me a crazy fool. Angered, I took him into the back of his shop where the oven was, bound him, and threatened him. Every time he denied her existence, my anger increased. 
Finally, I opened the oven and thrust his head against the inside, scorching the side of his face. He screamed through the gag I'd made for him and yet still insisted he had no daughter. Day after day for nearly four full moons I had come into his shop, and he, his daughter, and I had all spoken together many times... what madness was this?! The baker began to fight me violently, and trying to control him I tripped and fell into him. We both tumbled toward the ground. Unable to brace his fall due to the bounds and with my bodyweight and momentum behind him, his head smashed full force into the stone ground with a sickening crunch and immense release of blood. The costumers who had already been muttering outside burst into the back upon hearing the racket and stared aghast at the gruesome scene in front of them. They then took me. 
After spending three nights in a cell and frantically telling my story to the town guards repeatedly and anyone who passed, begging them to find Cassandra, I was brought in front of a judge and townspeople in the town square. I hadn't eaten or slept since the incident and was completely delirious, my mind thinking of nothing but finding Cassandra. All I could do was mutter Cassandra's name; sobbing without being able to produce any more tears and foaming slightly from the mouth. My father was present, his eyes downcast and face stricken with embarrassment. The judge wanted to know who this Cassandra was, but it seemed that no one knew. The guards testified as to the exact story I told them. Family and friends testified that prior to the murder, I had spent day after days at a time away from town, my whereabouts always unknown and my interaction with everyone in my life nonexistent. The judge passed his eyes over me and shook his head, saying I was mad or possessed. He then thrust his gravel downward and granted me what he called "the peace of death", scheduled for the following morning.
Late that night, a man appeared to me in my cell. I opened my mouth to yell upon his abrupt appearance through the wall, but I was in such physical disarray that nothing would come out but air. I probably wouldn't have even made it until my scheduled execution in the morning. 
He grabbed my wrist and lifted me to my feet with his right hand, then made a motion with his outstretched left hand. A blue light formed at his fingertips and a door formed. He pulled me through, and all went dark. 
When I finally opened my eyes again I was on a stack of hay, with the stench of a horse's breath and drippings from his nostrils upon me as he examined away. I pushed his head to the side and looked about. I was in a barn it seemed, with many vials littered about my makeshift bed. 
Within moments, the memories of what had transpired the last few days flew through my mind. I yelled out her name and tried to stand, intending to dart out the barn door. What from there I have no clue; but nonetheless, it didn't matter as I was barely able to stand. How long hadn't I used moved my body? No matter I thought, my muscles would remember their jobs soon enough. 
Within the hour, the barn door opened and the man walked in. In the light he seemed even more terrifying than when he first appeared to me; with his skin dark, hair grey, and his eyes a piercing light blue. He wore a tattered brown robe and a strangely glimmering azure belt. He ordered me to sit. My mind still completely frazzled, I told him to get out of my way, that I needed to get to Cassandra. "There is no Cassandra, fool. They were telling the truth. he whispered. I screamed and picked a large, empty flask up from the floor, meaning to strike him with it. Before I was able to even lift my arm, something hit me square in the face, something bitterly cold and stinging, knocking me back onto my haystack. I tried to stand up again, but I didn't have the strength to do anything. Helpless and mentally tortured, I wept hard and long. The scorn on the man's face softened. He shook his head and went to tend to his horse. 
When I was finally done Aderon, as he called himself, explained that he had just stopped by for some rest at the inn when he witnessed my trial and heard the tale. Having studied of the Arcane all his life and dabbling in Demonology, he had a strong feeling that my story was not at all indicative of madness. He explained that there were demons in the world which fed solely off of strong emotions in order to thrive. They were known as Succubi. Lust, love, anger, desperation, fear, and 
confusion: these are extremely powerful emotions, full of spiritual power. Being the quickest and the most potent short-term emotion to provoke, most of the lesser Succubi focused on generating power from the lust of the living. A Succubus would lure a creature by taking the form of a highly desirable (or most instinctually fitting) mate, absorbing every ounce of primordial lust as it seduced the creature. It would soon take the creature's life at the peak of mating ecstasy, transforming all of this emotional energy into demonic power. 
However, some Succubi were far more dangerous, far more powerful, and so required far more than simple lust to feed well. Some of these greater demons controlled the powers of illusion so well that they could trick beings into not only simply seeing them attractively, but could also force beings to experience the world around them uniquely; to trap them in an entire world of illusion. 
If one could believe, my mind snapped even further as the implications of this set in. I screamed and tore at my hair, screamed until my throat felt about to explode... and then I was suddenly... "Baaaa-ing". 
I knew I was completely gone at that point as I stared at hooves on the ground in front of me where my hands should have been. I tried to speak, to beg Aderon to end my misery, but only heard "Baaaa...baaaa....baaaaa....." come out from me. Aderon sighed, and then spoke words I will never forget. 
"It is true that what has been done to you was tragic. The truth is though, whether through demon or mankind, the experience of one's first true betrayal is the most painful experience in life. I look at you and I see myself a naive young man; as I was when my first love betrayed me, falling for the charms of another not a week before we were to be wed. 
She ran away with him without saying a thing to me or anyone else in town. Her father (a man who had baseless contempt for me as it was) had the entire town blaming me for it and I was brought to a jury in the same manner as you. No one stood up for me. Not even my friends or family. The town as a whole only wanted someone to blame for her disappearance and assumed foul play. Luckily (or not), a maid revealed to the town guard that she had seen the messenger from Ironforge (who had been in town that week) sneaking around with Marle together and heard their love making in her quarters one night. With that testimony, the mystery was solved, and my name was 'cleared'. 
I never saw Marle again, and spent many days in the same state as you are now. I had been betrayed completely, by everyone. I accepted no apologies of the town, friends, or my family-- whose support was only offered after the fact. I shortly thereafter left my home forever. 
Realize this: as a single drop of dye easily turns the most crystal clear water irrevocably dark, years of love and trust will inevitably be spoiled in a single moment, with a single action. It's a hard truth of life that we all must accept at some point. However, what I learned, and what you must if you are to live again, is that you can and must only truly trust yourself. There is no need to trust in others, as it stunts your own growth. Reliance on another to complete a task, or fill a role in your life that you cannot makes you weak. If they do not come through, it should *never* matter. You can find another, you can do it yourself. In this way you are always the one in control. You can never be disappointed, betrayed, and hurt like this again. You can still enjoy the relationships you have throughout life; but not for what they will be tomorrow, but for what they are now, today. Trust is really just expectation dressed up to sound noble. Everyone agrees that you should never expect anything from anyone but yourself, yet they contradict themselves by saying trust is good and necessary between creatures of this world. Fools. Trust only in yourself, Dario." 
With that, I was able to begin to pick myself up again. I had nowhere to go, and as I said, I'd always had an interest in the Arcane. So I begged Aderon to allow me to study with him. It having been years since he had dwelled with another human being, Aderon was reluctant at first. 
However, when he saw my genuine interest and affinity for magic, he accepted and took me in as a student. He was a mage who scorned flame, and he devoted his time to the mastery of as much frost conjuring as possible. By the end of my first few days of training I had merely learned to conjure a small cube of ice, but Aderon seemed impressed nonetheless. I went to sleep with new hope for life and pursuit of something I only need rely on myself for. 
I woke up and looked around... I was in my bed, at home, just outside Southshore. Was this... all a dream? As with a dream, my memories of what happened were quickly fading the more awake I became. Without a second thought, I ran to the bakery. There she was, in the window as always, smiling kindly to a customer and wishing him a good day. She turned to me and her eyes sparkled, her smile widening. My heart throbbed and relief enveloped me. I walked in, and she embraced and kissed me softly. Her father smiled and waved from the back room, where he was cleaning the oven. I uncontrollably grimaced, but waved back anyways. She asked to see me that evening. 
We met on the outskirts of the woods. She told me she loved me, kissed me deeply, and pulled me back to the grove. It was as beautiful as the first time I'd been there. Everything was the same; I'd almost forgotten that horrible nightmare from last night completely by now. 
Cassandra told me she was warm and grinned as she began to remove her shawl. Instead of being aroused however, upon hearing the word 'warm', odd words ran across my mind and suddenly my right hand was freezing cold. I looked down to see that there were small cubes of ice in it. I 
looked back up with horror in my face. Cassandra immediately saw, or 
sensed, exactly what had happened and her smile became a scowl. "Did you think, after all the work I've done, that you'd deny me from feeding? That I'd let someone of your spiritual potential just go, especially after priming you so well to release it to me? Even after all the trouble you've been, I took pity on you enough to let you bathe in your foolish love until the very end. Now it seems, I will have to do this the more brutal way." 
She held out her hand and a bluish lightning-like bolt flew towards me. 
I screamed out in pain. It felt like my body was being sucked out through my chest. Cassandra... the Succubus... whatever the hell it was, alternated between moans and laughter. 
Suddenly, she staggered backwards, being pelted with bursts of white beams that seemed to come from the wood. The grove disappeared and I was in the barn, Aderon behind me, covered in a nearly transparent film of ice, and focusing the bursts of light onto the Succubus. She screamed and pulled a whip out from behind her, sending its flaming end past me toward Aderon. He immediately disappeared from the location and reappeared behind her. He touched the ground with his left hand and a ring of ice shot up around her legs. His right palm he faced toward her as she bought the whip around to strike him. Icy wind circled out from his hand, cutting the ice about her into sharp shards which pierced her top to bottom. She spewed black blood from her body and mouth as she opened it to scream. However, she turned the end of her whip back toward me with the last of her strength, and with a look of ultimate hatred she sent it through my chest, igniting my body internally. 
Aderon yelled out and thrust his palm at her head, which then exploded in flame, spewing black ooze all over the barn. All I could think was that I indeed shouldn't have trusted in my life, that I regretted not living longer knowing of Aderon's wisdom. My last words to him as I faded were "Thank you." 
It was with these thoughts that I arose from the dead as one of the Forsaken. I was being given the opportunity to live life again the way I should have always. In Aderon's honor, for he is surely passed away by now, I continued my studies and spent every waking hour of every day since I've been awake bent on mastering the powers of frost. For a long time, I grew full confidence in my own powers and relied on no one. I enjoyed interactions with others in the odd society of the Forsaken (and the Horde as a whole) on a day to day basis, but never once cared to make a friend. To assure this further, I was always on the move and kept the sharing of information about myself to a bare minimum. I was living life just as Aderon would have wanted. He would have been proud. 
... 
I was in the Barrens many moons after being awakened and happened upon one of the Tauren kind, who I initially regarded as nothing more than another lumbering, clumsy, enchanted talking bovine (with no offense meant, as my ignorance is now flushed away). She waved at me, but I pretended not to notice and went on doing some random errand for cash. 
A short while after, still having little power back then, I'd had been nearly overcome by one of those thunder-happy beasts out near Camp Taurajo. 
It was about to stomp on my head when the Tauren I'd seen earlier generated some unearthly shout and barreled into it, bringing an axe the size of my body up into it's underbelly and tearing it in half, chuckling as its guts splattered onto her body. She proceeded to lift me off the ground and masterfully bandage my wounds. I was impressed (and more than a tad bit embarrassed). She introduced herself as Hawnee, a Warrior of the Broken Horn Warband. 
Though I tried to slip away, she insisted on assisting me with tasks. With one as her, I could not help but to slowly but surely fall back into the habit of trusting. I fought it, wondering what Aderon would think. Eventually, I even accepted an invitation into the Warband, convincing myself I was doing it strictly so Hawnee would shut up. Yet those I met from the Warband touched my life, every one of you, and we have many fond memories together. I remember some of you bringing me to Shadowfang Keep to take on Arugal and acquire powerful garments. Hondo was there. He challenged me to a mock duel outside the Keep while we waited for Hapa (I believe). I polymorphed him over and over again and kept running until he eventually grew tired of the game and sent me flying with a poke of his axe. We all had a good laugh and rampaged through the keep. (I miss our chief, immensely). Indeed, as much as I fought it, you guys became my friends, my family. 
Looking back to when I first awakened, I understand that then I still neglected to find the right way to live for myself. My naiveness of youth is gone, but so is the cynicism granted to me by Aderon. The balance of the two is where I stand today. 
I still believe what Aderon said holds true in part. One should trust themselves first, before anyone else. One should rely on themselves first before imposing their needs on others. However, trusting others and giving your trust to them is something inherent to living out life happily and efficiently. Now, it's true also that betrayal by some may be inevitable, but fear of it should not induce the complete rejection of trust. Those that truly care about you, and would stand by you no matter what don't deserve to be punished for those who hurt you or to be treated with that same distrust. 
All that being said. I'm proud and grateful to be part of the Broken Horn Warband. On this one year anniversary of mine I must thank you all wholeheartedly for helping change my life (unlife?) . I am with you until the end in whatever ways you need me my brothers and sisters.