What are we fighting for?

I thought, perhaps, that I might start at the beginning. But there are more pressing needs. And that is a tale that can be told later.

For so long that time seems meaningless, or unmeasurable, I have sought to master the skills of my art. Through shadow magic and demonic mastery I sought to control the world around me and destroy the many creatures of evil that inhabit this world. Upon mastery of my skills, I swore to use my powers to destroy the Scourge and the minions of Arthas. And on some occasions, I have been able to band together with like-minded, worthy, and skilled adventurers into the hellish pit of Naxxramas, the Vault, and the Obsidian Sanctum.

But these adventures, while grand, are not the sole purpose of my being. They cannot be. Collecting trinkets here and there while slaying fierce armies of darkness seems almost meaningless when I look at the world around me. The Alliance encroaches upon us at every turn. And we, called the Horde by those who deny our right to exist, can barely see beyond our own petty interests.

My own people, the forsaken, are split. There are those who would see the Scourge encompass the world and destroy all life, out of some twisted sense of vengeance or simply pure evil. And there are those like myself, who understand our nature, but fight against the evil that brought us into existence. We are strong, but divided. The troll-kind are dedicated, but they lack both the numbers and the leadership to push back against the enemy we face. The noble Tauren, a humble people, are true and fierce warriors, but their own nature works against them, as they desire only peace in a world gone mad. They lack the cold, calculated willingness to kill that is all too abundant in my own people.

The blood elves, for all their decorum, polish, and knowledge, are almost useless. They would reclaim their place in the world, yet they dwell on ancient losses, maintain only defensive outposts, and even their greatest city is divided in half by its own people, passable in fractions by those who choose sides in a fight not worth waging.

It was, and is, with some alarm, and fair amount of surprise, that I found myself coming to understand that it is the brutish Orcs who best defend us. It is they who have taken an offensive posture against the Alliance, have set armies against the minions of the Scourge, and have stood as the last line of defense against Arthas, even to the point of fighting alongside the Alliance at times. The Orcs, while violent and uncouth, are a noble warrior people who have fought back time and again from the very brink of extinction, and they continue to fight that we all may survive.

So it has come that I have sworn my allegiance to Thrall, that I fight on the battlefields of Wintergrasp, and that I adorn myself in the armor of his warriors. I do not fully understand the nature of the weapons we employ, but I am a fierce defender of our Keep, and one of the best gunners around. When I am in a turret, no seige engines may approach our walls. When I man a seige engine, no tower may stand. I gladly fight, and fall, to defend our Keep from the Alliance, who would give us no peace on any terms.

And so yes, I fight for honor, and for glory, I also fight for Thrall. While Thrall lives, the Horde fights on.