((Set sometime in the future. All of this is OOC knowledge and contains spoilers regarding Venia's character. It is rather long, and divided into parts. Feel free to read at your own pace. Comments are more than welcome.))

A small, roughed-up book lies upon a table. It's cover is marred by scratches, the thin leather flaking off it. A small red ribbon flops out the bottom - a simple bookmark. The book has no title printed upon it, but it's easy to see it's a diary.

Upon opening, the diary's pages glow bright red. It begins to warm to the touch, before starting to burn. A simple magical cantrip disarms the enchantment, the book returning to just that - a book.

Scrawled over the pages in a strict, ordered handwriting flows runes of a magical appearance. Those attuned with magic quickly frown, not recognising them straight away. Then realisation dawns, causing many to turn away from the book in disguist. The runes are necromantic.

Those who understand them, however, find the title written neatly upon the top. "Serrardor - The Child of the Blade".

Entry One

In the event of my true death, it's more than likely that my library will be pillaged. Odds are, you are the pillagers, and are afraid of this book. Understandable - herein is a guide of what I am, who I am, and why I am. Perhaps that last question is something that needs explaining. I do not mean why the Kaldorei are. I do not talk of the meaning of life, I talk of the more important matters - why I am what I am.

On this elaborate entry, I begin by explaining my past a little. For it is knowing the past we understand the present, and can make an educated guess at the future.

The Past

I shall keep things brief - I do not wish to bore you, oh pillager. I started out as the model sentinel. I followed orders, I was good with my weapons, and I was every bit the run-of-the-mill Kaldorei soldier. My superiors say "jump" and I do not say "How high?" I say "How high? Knees bent or not? How do you wish me to jump?" - and they applaud me for it. Let it be known that I was happy in this exsistance - but that happiness was limited.

I was happy like the rat is happy running on the wheel in its cage. The rat charges forth, going nowhere, learning nothing. It is content. Unfortunately someone tipped my cage over. The demons came - I take this moment as an aside to snigger gleefully at my own race. Outsiders come in, fleeing from an ancient enemy, and we shoot them with arrows instead of ask all the right questions - and with them the Undead. While the Lich King was abandonning the Legion slowly but surely, there were his minions there by the bucketload.

One of which I had the misfortune of meeting. A Deathknight - his name I'm afraid I do not know. We were not having a chatter, you see, but engaged in brutal combat. He assaulted the unit I was with, wiping most of us out. I was fortunate - on his death-cry he merely smashed my head with the flat of runesword he carried, knocking me cold.

When I awoke, I was alone, unarmed, and behind enemy lines. I did what any sensible person or animal would do - survive at all costs. It is what I have always done. It is part of the why. Either way - I stole the runeblade of that Deathknight. When caught with it back at the Kaldorei front line, I was arrested. Soon after Archimonde's defeat, I was prodded and probed by every priest they could find - they could not find a taint. So they deported me instead of executed me.

Thus, like our friend the rat on his wheel, I was set loose. I didn't want to go - I wanted to go back to my wheel. I spent years trying - only to eventually find myself stepping back onto it. This is where the Silvereye come in. Perhaps you are among the pillagers. Hello.

They were good to me - and they were what I wanted back then. It was only until the Portal opened, when I stepped through, when the wretched Naga got the better of me that I began to see. I have never told anyone the truth of my escape there. I relate that to you now.

And So My Path Begins, The Rat Finds Freedom

Understand that the Naga only kept me alive for my strength - and I was subservant. Again, I had to survive - fighting them would kill me for no reason. Thus I helped build the mighty reservoir that adventures so like to plunder. I still bear the scars of my treatment there - although faded, my abuse of the arcane saw to that.

Those that know me well know that I served some time taking lessons in the temple. I was a weak priestess, but I could still perform minor healing. I had completely shunned the call of the Shadow - and it was here I heard it once again. Not the "dark side of Elune" that Priestess Dusksinger (darling ol' Shally) is so keen to preach about, but the real Shadow.

As it turns out, I was rather a dab hand at wielding it. While manacles of steel can resist my physical might, my mental far outweighs it. I have often said that I was born in the wrong era - if I were pre-Sundering I would likely have been one of the most powerful Moon Guard. An organisation that was vital in the defeat of the Legion then, and so easily forgotten!

I diverge.

The manacles were destroyed by this potent force, and using a mixture of Kaldorei grace and the Shadow (that, as it turns out, had its own agenda - it'd never turn down a chance to have someone in debt), managed to hide until a force of Scryers came upon me. Seeing my chance, I went back with them - a rescued prisoner.

And So I Stray, The Rat Wishes To Grow

There they found me most grateful. They also found me angry, and rightly so. The Goddess did not lift a finger to save me. No sign, no spiritual aid. The great bitch of the moon knows I prayed, and I tried to summon the holy fires I have seen before. She abandoned me. I returned the favour. Seeing this as a chance to find new ways, better ways to stop myself from being so overwhelmed again - I asked them to teach me the Arcane.

They gladly obliged. Any halfwit mage could sense I had potential. I was an investment - one they ended up regretting, but I did serve them well. It was with them I began fighting again, striking against Kael'thas' forces. It was there we liberated, that wonderful book.

An ancient tome, within it's pages were texts in every language I had ever seen. I was the first to find it - killing the mage holding it. The moment I touched it, it became bound to me. The Sindorei I was with assured me this was normal, as I was frightened. A powerful tome will often have something of a will of it's own, seeking masters to protect it in a parasitic manner. This one found me.

Within it's texts I unlocked a secret that everyone I know has distrusted. The art of augmentation. The Draenei are half way to discovering this process, infact. Many of the 'socketed' armours people now flaunt is based on these premises. I did not socket the armour, I socketed myself.

It took a trip to Silithus to procure what I requred. Obsidian. A delightful material - capable of absorbing raw magic and storing it. Something the Qiraji used to incredible effect in their constructs, Moam being the most specific case. If you do not know the name, do some blasted reading you pea-brained, dull-witted idiot. Such fascinating material should be something one yearns to know.

I would never have done this without the aid of the Scryers. They also saw the potential within my experimentation. Magically fusing the obsidian with other crystals, specifically Star of Elune - The irony! The blessed irony! - and Nightseye. The result was a shining, black gem - boosting stamina, strength and mana intake. Also able to hold that mana within due to the Obsidian.

I became a living mana crystal.

Evocation and Alteration magics were taught to me - not in any form I could actually use, but so I could understand the principles. You see - I had never used what I had learned at this point. To do so would be to grow short, pointy ears and become exiled entirely. The rat enjoyed staying near its home, if it had travelled a little away.

The result? I could consume and store magic. I could also funnel the magic stored within like blood, and using meditation I could 'push' it out of me. This, the Sindorei said, was the way forwards. But they were hesitant - and rightly so. The effects of this kind of alteration were unknown, and so I was to report back regularly. I was also spied upon.

It turns out the crystals lead to madness.

And So I Crack, The Rat Is Reborn!

I pinned my frail emotional state on a broken relationship - the last true relationship I have ever had. Love is beond me now, as is the despair it brings. Good riddance to both!

It took time, it took a long time - slowly, surely I rebuilt myself. I tossed out the refuse, the ways of Old Venia - the Sentinel. I began to walk the path that lead to where I am now. Dead, yes, or else you wouldn't hold this book. But I have lived happily, and I have lived boldly. I have no regrets - that came with the package, after all.

My madness was not helped, however, by something that nobody else has known. My mother was with me when defending Hyjal, and she was slain by the very same Deathknight that almost got me. When I took his blade, I took with it a few of the recent souls he had claimed. One of which was her.

And So I Murder My Parents, The Rat Gnaws Free Its Chain

She came to me, haunted me. When I fell into madness the cracks opened far enough for her to take 'form' - a percieved reality, while not true reality, if reality can ever be true. I assure you, a percieved reality is no less real. Just because you cannot see, feel, smell, taste and touch something that someone else can sense, does not make what they experience any less real for [/i]them[/i].

My mother was not pleasant. Her soul had been twisted by the blade, she became self-serving, soulless herself. She wanted to live again through me. Together we killed my father. I do not mourn him, another thing that comes with the package. He was dead anyway - nothing but a hollow shell remained.

As my sanity began to reform, my 'mother' did everything she could to stop it. The mind is a fortress, and mine had lost most of it's walls. She wished to get in and kill the Queen of the fortress, but she failed. As I grew stronger within myself, she grew weaker. Eventually my will was thus to banish her, force her into servitude through the tie woven into my essence by the runeblade. Thus I destroyed her.

And So I Shed My Soul, The Rat Tastes True Liberty

It was at this point I allowed my mind to roam freely, to challenge each and every prejudice and preconception of my youth. Is the arcane bad? Certianly not. I would embrace it within a heartbeat if it didn't get my lynched. After the... incident with my parents, however, I looked to another source. The power of the Deathknight who fought me hammered into my mind again and again. He looked with only glee as he fought, bathed in blood. No second-guessing, no remorse, no pity.

Such is the glorious life of the soulless.

My mind swam with the idea. It flirted with it, teased it, then took it into the bedroom and gave it a good buggering. Necromantic power was immense, the Shadow (which I later found had been dragging me this way for so very long) mixed with the Arcane, combined with physical prowess and combat. That sounded right up my alley.

The fear of lynching came up once again - but the power of the Shadow is within it's name, to be Shadow. Such workings could be hidden, at least until it was too late. Until I had ascended to become unstoppable. The second fear was of being dominated - the Lich King guards his runeblades well. Those that wield them become mindless slaves, but still...

The Forsaken had done it - and still done it. I had yet to meet the Forsaken with my force of will and dedication. Thus I began my research, thus I began plotting.

And So I Killed Myself, The Rat Becomes A Wolf

Throughout my life I have been told of potential. I have it. I have always had it. I have it by the bucketful. It was time to teach them all that having potential might not always be a good thing. The gnomes are wise in this - that which contains potential energy could just as easily power the electromanising-supertoaster 9000 or blow your head off. It's not hard to guess what sort of potential I nursed.

My studies went swiftly - the dark tomes I stole from Scholomance eager to enthrall a new minion. I resisted. Or so I thought. The dark path, the path of Shadow, is one which you must commit to from the first step. There was no turning back the moment I stood upon the corpses of the necromancers of Scholomance and pried their spellbooks from their cold fingers and opened those tomes. Luckily I did not hesitate, or my mind would have been forfeit.

There were several things I required before I could fully embrace my new strength. First was a runeblade of my own. That I knew where to find - Northrend. The rumours of an expidition forming to travel to that cold land were already starting to circulate, thus I decided to try and get there early. The great-moon-bitch forbid some hearty adventurer came along and destroyed all the Deathknights.

Second was a Lich's tome. An intact one. Luckily another source provided this information, one I shall not be naming. If she lives still, do your worst to find her, I say. She gave me the second part of what I required.

The third, and final, was a way to subvert the will of the Lich King. That was something I had to wait for. When adventurers began pouring into his kingdom, his attention became devided. It was then my plans came to fruition. It was then I sold my soul for a life of shallow joy.

I have never made such a good deal.

End of Entry One

((So many things that I want to say, thoughts to try and put a voice too but I can't order them coherently enough to do so.

Suffice to say, a wonderfully sad story made sadder still by the thought that it could just as easily be Wai or Cersea reading the diary at that point in the future.

And I never would have guessed that Ven's unseen companion was her own mother. I liked that!

Again, congratulations on a superb piece.

Edit: Oh, and I forgot to say - it's wonderful to see so much effort being put into the backstory of a future avatar. I suspect the majority, even on AD will be "lawl! I r Death Knight! I r Arthas!"))

(( Stunning, Venia. Warms my heart. Somehow I just hope they add some more hero classes in... ))

Well written, both in terms of the text, but also in terms of structuring it to be read on a forum. Bittersweet as always, which can be delightful to read.

However, by writing the history of the future, are you not effectively saying " this development is set in stone"? Not that there is anything wrong with long term planning, though, it bears thinking about.

Nothing set in stone, but most of this has already occured. Not to mention that I'm fairly set on one thing: remaking Venia into a Deathknight. Thus far it's vague enough for it to be set in the future without nailing anything down specifically. It's very likely Venia will keep a library, and it's very likely Venia will grow increasingly 'bitter' to others.

Lovely writing as always. How you can have fun actually playing that as a character is beyond me, but to each their own. ^^