First part (of many to be put on today)

((Moranya))

Greetings all, here is my tale. Back before I was a member of the Forsaken, I was a High Priest of the blood elves. Myself and two other clerics were sent to Northrend with Arthas when he journied to find and destroy the dreadlord Mal'ganis, however, not long after reaching Northrend I and my guard got seperated from the rest of our party by a fierce storm. That is when they struck. Of my three guards one fell right away. I began calling upon the light to help defend us but they were too powerful. I died to the sounds of my friends dying...

It wasn't long after that when I was a slave of Arthas. I was forced to kill in his name without any ability to stop myself. Thankfully it wasn't long untill Lady Sylvannas somehow freed myself and many other of the undead.

Once freed I began to retrain myself as a servant of the light. however, whether it was from my undead state or what I did while under the thrall of Arthas, my skills began to wane. over time I was forced to rely on physical weapons more than my skills as a priest. I eventually learned that a dagger strike from behind could be more deadly than the greatest of two handed maces from the front. I learned the value of being unheard. I became a rogue.

you have asked for my story, and now you have it.