Inspired by Syrana’s (as usual) excellent post (located here), some things jumped out at me that I had not thought of in a while. Back when I played Star Wars: Galaxies I made a number of friends online, and over the years there have only been a couple I have managed to maintain contact with. Although not for a lack of thinking of those I haven’t spoken with since leaving the game, some I simply have no idea how to reach again. Further, many friendships I have formed over the course of playing World of Warcraft I hope to not lose contact with, whether it be my decision to pursue another game in the future or theirs.

Those who I play with currently would know more about my current state than any of those I have played with previously, and they would be much more likely to show up at my door in the event I went unheard from for any length of time. Those who I have kept up with, albeit horribly infrequently, might never know one way or another. And there are still others whom I miss that I couldn’t even tell you if they were still around or if something had befallen them.

With the proliferation of other services, specifically things like Twitter, the blogging community in general and certainly those who do visit this blog, and text messaging for those who have my direct contact information, it is certainly easier to keep track of those we grow fond of in one way or another. Yet, there is still, quite often, a barrier between those who have never met in person (and far too often even those we meet in passing in “real life” as well).

These are just some thoughts to ponder after reading Syrana’s post:

• Are there people you have met online, regardless of venue, that you care enough about to wonder what happens in their lives?
• Have you made and lost friends over the years that you wish you still had a chance to speak to, or that you recollect fondly and have no idea where they are now or what they may be up to?
• Why do we persist in keeping others at bay when they are not a part of our daily lives in some fashion?

Thinking back, these are a few of the people (some in-game names and some forum handles) that I’ve lost track of and think of on occasion (and forgive me if I have forgotten the exact spelling):

• Arcaeus / Agraulus
• Tuck / Oomph
• Andronicus
• Batpat, whom I even met in person and had the opportunity to go SCUBA diving with.
• All of the wonderful people on the Smuggler and Teras Kasi forums (SWG). The sense of community there is only matched in WoW thus far.
• My fellow correspondents during the “pre-combat revamp” phase. (SWG)
• Those who were a part of la Cosa Nostra during my time as Guild Leader, as well as those who played on Stormrage under the original Aeternus Veritas guild banner.

And to all of those whom I know now, whether I know you well or if we are only really developing any semblance of friendship as I write this, I hope our paths remain in contact. Sometimes it is the relationships we form virtually that shape aspects of ourselves in ways we never expected, and those threads of friendship and camaraderie tend to stay with us long after contact is lost. To you all I raise my glass, and hopefully this time we all manage to stay in touch!

If you are just joining us please start with CREATE YOUR OWN AZEROTH: PRELUDE from Hardcore Casual.

This segment is a continuation from Create Your Own Azeroth: The Southern Gate. over at Circumspect Snug.

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Corrigan lets out a low sigh, heard only by Rondrey. Without another moment’s hesitation he looks at the possessed citizens moving toward them with emotionless eyes and issues the command none wanted to hear: “Men, attack!”

I have failed yet again… not only could I not protect the woman I loved, but I cannot even protect a handful of citizens from death, and by my own hand no less! Sylphine, have mercy on me.

“Commander…” Rondrey’s voice trails off as Corrigan brushes him aside, launching his hammer into the mass of banshees moving toward them.

“It is too late old friend, hesitation will surely get us killed,” Corrigan states, his voice lifeless. The remaining stupor from the rum washed away by the realization that those he was supposed to protect were dying by his own order.

Laughter emanates from the treeline as the Necromancer reappears. The clanging of metal and the screams of men, women, and even children dying in the scuffle with the banshees failing to drown him out. Blood flows freely around the remaining soldiers under Corrigan’s command as Rondrey focuses his undivided attention to the handful of citizens left.

“Feel the despair and fear coursing through your very souls,” the Necromancer taunts, his icy glare fixated on Corrigan. “See the futility in fighting my forces now foolish paladin?” He laughs as legions of ghouls, skeletons, and abominations appear through the trees, surrounding the small band of people that remain.

With a roar that seems more bestial than dwarven, Rondrey suddenly breaks into a charge toward the Necromancer, “Filthy, stinkin’, no-good scourge!” Rondrey’s charge catches everyone by surprise, bolstering the spirits of the men and inciting a rage and determination that shines through as they cut down every miserable, vile creature in their path. Limbs fly as the stench of ghoulish blood fills the air. The men seem invincible, parrying or avoiding every incoming attack and responding with unprecedented accuracy in dealing certain death to their foes.

What seems an eternity passes before their charge is slowed, a wall of dead scourge practically surrounding them. Regaining his senses Rondrey turns to look at Corrigan, still standing motionless where he was when Rondrey’s charge caught them all by surprise. A feeling of loss sweeps through every shred of his being as he realizes the reason for Corrigan’s lack of movement, and the small blade protruding from underneath the plate armor on his chest. Corrigan’s body finally falls to its knees, staying there as though locked in prayer as Rondrey looks away with a tear falling down his cheek.

“Yer gonna pay dearly for that,” Rondrey growls at the Necromancer.

A deep, gravelly voice booms from all around them as the Necromancer laughs. Arthas’ image appears before the men, practically draining their strength and replacing it with fear. The image speaks, its gaze locked firmly on Rondrey, “You will wish for a quick death soon enough, priest.”

Rondrey starts to issue a challenge, but is shocked into silence as he hears a sudden cold, soulless laugh from behind. Rondrey whirls around, and in the brief moment it took to realize what he was seeing he lost all hope. They were surrounded still, and although they fought well there was no way they would be able to defeat this newcomer…

The men gasped, and weapons clattered to the ground as fear sucked every ounce of strength left from them. They watched, hopelessly, as Corrigan slowly stood up from the ground where he fell. Corrigan’s skin was now pale, his lips lifeless, and his eyes burning bright with the stare of the undead.

Corrigan laughed menacingly as he looked to Arthas’ visage, “What is your command, Master?”

Arthas’ voice boomed around them once more, “Kill them, and bring the priest to me. This is your test, Death Knight. Succeed, and you will have earned your place among my ranks.”

Arthas’ visage disappears as the sky suddenly darkens. Rondrey falls to his knees, and utters a final prayer to the Light for mercy on Corrigan’s soul.

Corrigan advances, slaughtering the remaining soldiers and citizens as he makes his way to Rondrey’s still kneeling form. Corrigan raises his hand toward Rondrey, unleashing an assault of icy energy point-blank into the priest. Rondrey is knocked back, but with a grim determination he finishes uttering the last of an incantation he began moments before. Surges of holy energy fill Rondrey’s body as he stands, and in a final moment of desperation he unleashes e wave of light so powerful it incinerates him in the process.

As the dust settles the Necromancer surveys the field before him. Not a single man, woman, or child remains breathing, though any of his scourge minions that were within ten yards of that priest’s range were vaporized as well. He looks over to where Corrigan stands, and begins a wild cackling that could barely be described as laughter.

Corrigan looks up at the Necromancer, not a single trace of emotion even beginning to soften the edge in his voice, “A futile gesture, foolish priest,” he whispers. Corrigan turns and starts the trek to Icecrown Citadel, pausing momentarily to look the Necromancer straight in the eyes, “Gather your minions, you report to me now.”

The End

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If you are just joining us please start with CREATE YOUR OWN AZEROTH: PRELUDE from Hardcore Casual.

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Grabbing his Hammer, Corrigan turns to exit the tent. He pauses, and kneels briefly at the door.

May the Light bring us strength on this day.

Corrigan rushes out of the tent, and charges to the front lines. As he runs murmurs of surprise spread throughout the lines. Merely having Corrigan’s presence among them seems to bolster the soldiers’ spirits. As Corrigan reaches the front gate and realizes just how close the walls are to crumbling he stops and turns to the men and women under his command.

“On this day we will deliver a message to our enemies. On this day we will show them the strength of Azeroth’s people. We will stand and fight the corrupt, the vile, the Scourge. Cleanse the fear from your hearts! Stand with me, and let us show Arthas’ minions that we shall not falter!”

How can we withstand such an onslaught? There is no doubt that many will die here today.

Corrigan shakes the last of the cobwebs from his mind as the gates fall. Wave after wave of disgusting Scourge soldiers collide with the polished armor of Corrigan’s troops. Blood flows freely, staining the ground in a matter of moments. Cries of strength and honor are cut short, twisting into barely audible gurgles as windpipes are smashed or torn.

“For the Light!” Corrigan yells as he rushes into the fray, his hammer felling three and four Scourge at a time. “Stand fast! Drive these vile creatures back through the gate!”

As the battle rages it becomes clear the Alliance forces are horribly outnumbered. Without some miracle Corrigan and his troops will be fatefully overrun soon. Rondrey makes his way to Corrigan’s side, assuring him the last of the civilians have been evacuated, or are at least as safe as possible with the remaining soldiers.

Breathing heavily, Corrigan turns to Rondrey during a brief lull in the attack, “Old friend, we cannot keep them at bay much longer. Take the remaining soldiers and retreat, I’ll do what I can to buy you enough time to get away. With the entire regiment you should be able to make it through any remaining ambushes blocking your path”

“There be no way to make it outta here alive without help,” Rondrey protests, “I’ll not leave ye alone!”

Maybe this is the price I have to pay for not being able to protect Sylphine… death would almost be a warm welcome, a change from the persistent nightmare I have been plagued to live.

“There’s no time for debate, Rondrey,” Corrigan whispers, “I cannot lead them to certain death!”

Rondrey pauses, accepting that there is but one way to sway Corrigan’s decision, “Sacrificing yerself won’t change the past. Ye can save these people, Corrigan, and I’ll be damned if yer goin’ to give up so easily!”

A fresh wave of abominations and geists fills the courtyard as Corrigan hefts his hammer, the Light feeding him the strength to fight fiercely. Rondrey hefts his small mace and sends bolt after bolt of holy energy into the fray, healing those in need and burning the remaining flesh of the Scourge invaders.

Rage swells inside Corrigan as he crushes the bones of his enemies. Just as the battle appears to be turning in the favor of the Alliance forces the attackers pull back, making room for something coming forward from the back of their ranks. Corrigan’s eyes follow the hooded figure as it steps forward and becomes plainly visible.

Rondrey curses and Corrigan’s rage merely explodes as the hood falls, revealing the icy pale skin of a death knight. Corrigan feels Rondrey grab his arm and hold fast as he whispers, “Steady lad, ye cannot simply rush in against the creature and abandon our defenses!”

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You control Corrigan’s fate!

If you choose to attack the death knight immediately Corrigan will charge, leading the rest of his men into a last ditch assault against their attackers. For this option go to Creeping… (Update, continuation link is here)

If you choose to hold the lines steady Corrigan will listen to Rondrey, hoping to outlast the assault and gain victory. For this option go to Hardcore Casual (Update, continuation link is here)

The story will continue on those blogs next Wednesday, April 22nd.