Azeroth Trail of Light

Fire always brings warmth to people.

In this ghostly place full of dangers, it is the happiest thing to have a small house sheltered from wind and rain, with a burning fireplace and a cup of hot tea.

Now that I have all three, I think I should be happy.

Although this thing does not belong to me.

Ahem... It's rare to see strangers now, in this ghost place.

The old man sitting across from me smiled and added tea to my cup. This gesture warmed my heart, especially after a long period of being alone, this kind of concern between people is irresistible.

And this old man is also a talkative person. It can be seen that he may have been a real big shot, which can be seen from his demeanor. An ordinary old man would not let a stalker with a weapon walk into him in the hut.

Due to the friendly attitude of the old man, I decided to finish listening to his story.

Any old man has stories to tell, you and I both know that.

So I took the call,

Yeah, the Eastern Plaguelands is not a good place to hide, old man, why don't you go to the Arathi Highlands, or the Hillsbrad Hills? There are still human settlements there, and people like you should live There, it's too dangerous for you here.

Dangerous? No, it's not dangerous here!

The old man glanced at me with a smile, and pointed to the weapon he had placed in the corner of the wall. I followed his finger and looked over, tsk tsk tsk, good guy, there is actually a weapon hidden between the shovel and the pickaxe. Warhammer.

It's not the kind of broken guy made of stone. It's a real steel warhammer. Judging from the pattern, it should be a standard warhammer produced by the army when the Kingdom of Lordaeron still existed. Generally speaking, being able to wield such a heavy weapon at least shows that the old man in front of him can kill three ghouls head-on.

This combat power... no wonder he can survive here, as long as he doesn't risk rushing into the pile of undead, he can live here until he dies of old age.

I had a good chat with this old man, until half an hour later, I felt that it was almost time and it was time to go.

After all, I have a mission to send that damn letter to Light's Hope Chapel, the last fortress on the most dangerous front line during these dark times, and hand it over to a guy named Nicholas.

I don't want to rush on the road at night. At that time, the undead in the entire Plagueland will regard me as a piece of walking meat, and they will pounce on me and bite me fiercely.

But just as I was about to leave, the old man suddenly asked,

You're going to Light's Hope Chapel, aren't you?

Um, yes... Is there anything I can do for you?

I asked subconsciously, and then hoped that he didn't need my help.

However, the old man thought for a while before speaking.

If you're going to the Light's Hope Chapel, I want you to do me a favor, in Zurmatha, just northeast of the Light's Hope Chapel, where I fought those mossy trolls One battle, that was my last battle as a soldier, I remember that a battle flag was lost there, can you bring it back for me? Just think of it as an old man's remembrance of the past.

Seeing the old man pretending not to care, but actually showing a pleading expression, I was unable to say what I was going to refuse, but the instinct of the stalker to explore the secret still made me unable to help asking,

Yes, yes, but can I know why?

Before he could speak, I waved a finger in front of my eyes, Don't lie to me and say it's the old man's remembrance of memories. If you were 10 years younger, I might not be able to beat you. Those giant rotten moss The devil is dead, so, tell me the real reason, and then I will help you get back that flag.

The old man hesitated for a moment, I could see the struggle and pain on his face, I even wanted to take back what I said before, but before I could speak, the old man made a gesture of please sit down.

Well, if you have time, come and listen to the story of an old man's past.

I sat on the chair, and my instinct told me that this would be a wonderful story. For the night elves, there is nothing better than collecting stories. I will record these stories and bring them back to Darkshore. To share with my people, in the long time, these stories will eventually become a part of our history, and along with the evergreen of the world tree, it will be passed down forever.

My name is Tirion, Tirion Fordring, and I used to be a paladin.

The old man was caught in the memory. I have seen that look of memory on the faces of many old people, but even so, I was still shocked by the beginning of this story.

It really is a wonderful story, I knew it, but I didn't expect that I would meet this living legend in a house in this ghost place.

Even in the society of night elves, the name Tirion Fordring is known to many people, thanks to our battles with those savage orcs in Ashenvale on another continent, we know the leader of those orcs Their stories, including an orc wise man named Trigg, and I dare to believe that the story of old Fording is definitely related to Trigg.

Because Cui Yige told the same story to those orc soldiers more than once.

I was born in Lordaeron, Hearthglen, it's a beautiful place, a small town that used to be peaceful, I grew up there, and then I went to the Kingdom of Stormwind to study and become a priest, my mentor was named Alonsus Faol is the Archbishop of the Church of the Holy Light.

I know, under the crown of Faol, the big man who established the Knights of the Silver Hand!

I interjected, the old man glanced at me and showed a kind smile,

Yeah, the mentor is a real wise man. I followed him to study in Northshire Abbey for several years, and then we got a bad news. Orcs invaded, you know? Those green-skinned orcs, they destroyed the entire Stormwind Kingdom, Even the mentor and Wrynn's royal family were forced to migrate to Lordaeron with their citizens, and it was also in my hometown. The mentor gave me and my companions, Uther, Gavinrad, Dathrohan and Turalyon, gave us five chances to become paladins, and we succeeded.

Holy light surges in our bodies, and we also have the physique of warriors. With this power, more paladins appeared, and when the orcs besieged Lordaeron, we defeated those orcs, that is War, brutal war, we won in the end, but we also lost our great commander, Lothar, on the Burning Plains, I witnessed the end of a hero.

I thought I would hate those orcs, but when I came back to my hometown as a nobleman, on my fief, Hearthglen, on the back roads of my hometown, my 12-year-old son asked me Father, all orcs are bad people ? , I thought of the orc mothers who used their lives to protect their children, the Frostwolf orcs who hid in the mountains and were unwilling to fight, and the historical documents of the orcs we captured, so I told him.

When the old man said this, he couldn't help puffing out his chest, and the aura of a soldier returned to him. I can even guess the proud look on his face when he answered his son.

I told my son race does not explain glory, and people should not make rash judgments about beings different from themselves.

Old Fording paused, then shook his head, his face full of loneliness,

I thought it was my motto in life, but I didn't expect that after the war, I would really face the test from fate. The period after the war was the happiest day in my life. Looking at me My son is growing up day by day, and I feel that it is my responsibility to guide him on the right path, which I did until Treyger appeared in front of me.

I couldn't help taking a sip of water, and in the beating of the flames in the fireplace, I knew that the most exciting part of the story was coming.