My name is Secretia. I am one of Sylvanas’s Forsaken. That much I know.
More importantly, I also know that I am a Death Knight, and that I had been recruited into the Lich King’s service. I have only of late regained my consciousness and control over my actions. Having shrugged off the foul Arthas’s domination, I am now also in control of my destiny.
Which, by the way, appears to be that of farming higher-level materials for a small stable of the Horde, residing on the Wyrmrest Accord server. That’s an “Arrrr-pee hotspot,” whatever THAT means.
The world is almost completely alien to me now, and I’ve heard in the capital cities that something they are calling “The Shattering” is to blame. All I know is that I woke this afternoon with a burning need to find some Spider’s Silk.
Why? I have found it best not to ask. I would have to assume, however, that m’lady Preshyus requires a new dress. /eyeroll/
I have killed so many spiders in Stonetalon Mountains, and more in both the Arathi Highlands and in Hillsbrad. And, as happy as I was to see Southshore wiped off the map and that triumvirate of farmers (Ray, Getz, and Kalaba) fashioned into a patchwork beast, my heart remains heavy. I have found no Spider’s Silk. None. Not even that Thick kind that is virtually useless. None.
What has become of us?