It was after some inebriation that a lovely blood elf managed to seduce me into betraying some dark secrets.
You see, once upon a time I was a Gnome. I served masters seeking information. In a time before the great journey North, into the cold wasteland. I was investigating the possibility of rejoining the alliance, us paler elves, our well of power destroyed. That was when Kael’thas journeyed unto the Outlands. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard, but the ties were there. I saw Alliance and Horde working towards the same goals, I saw man and orc fighting the same foes.
And at the same time, I saw renewed hatred. Competition and violent contact where handshakes and courteous nods could have been used. I’ve seen war from one end of this world to the other. And I had thought briefly I might see peace at last. Our two forces united.
And so it was, that after seeing the truth in the violence I spent some time alone. A year, if I recall the days properly. I watched the stars come and go, the suns rise and fall. I considered my place in the world.
Mind you, I’d likely still be there, trying to make sense of the chaos that was sewn into all our beings. But my Grand Illusion started to fail. The appearance, the physical changes and the mental blocks all designed to guard against discovery. For three years I was a Gnome. My face still itches where a beared once grew.
And in one moment it was all gone. The enchantment broken. Dispelled or worn out, I cannot say. And yet, I felt ashamed. To have been away from Silvermoon all those years. To have been away from family, from friends. It was crushing. It was so impossibly horrible to comprehend, the loneliness. That my first action was a recall home, to a familiar drinking establishment. And that’s where I awoke up, days later. I must have drank myself til I was gone and then some again.
The memories still plague me. Of time with Dwarves, of serving petty human taskmasters, of aspiring to the ideals of fickle druids and ignorant warriors.
And I still drink. Just in careful moderation. Lest I wake up in a fountain in Stormwind Castle.
But it should be known, I learned my lesson while travelling as a gnome. I learned the value of perspective. I came to understand the need for practice and the desire for power.
Now I carry with me a mild case of Claustrophobia and little else to remind me of my past time.
It is worth noting, as a side-consideration, that I am very grateful that lovely hunter didn’t fill me full of arrows that night. It would have ruined my favorite hat.
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