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I was overwhelmed. On this very stead, I stood... held my ground in defense of Lordaeron. The farm and all on it were waylaid by a gigantic wave of Scourge.
The wretch. The filth. It hovered above me, entrails hanging from its gaping chest cavity.
I woke as Scourge. For so long I was helpless. My mind had coalesced with the Lich King's.
She came for me... somewhere, somehow, I knew she would. Free.
And now, I must have my vengeance - my vengeance on that which took from me my life. Destroy it.
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After Sylvanas freed me, I hunted the beast across these wastes for months. It fled to the safety of Stratholme. The bastard...
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I wonder... did it beg for mercy? Could it know what mercy is?
<Nathanos spits.>
I will hang this beast's head upon my wall.
You have earned a spot amongst one of my champions, ‹namn›.
<Nathanos salutes.>