Not let it be said that the Forsaken can not weep
By Calessaben
Featuring Calessaben, Breetie, & Grady

First let it be known that I am a simple man… correction. I “WAS” a simple man. I made my home in the human lands to the south, though I fear that with my death few memories remain in tack. But the memories I have… they are so precious to me. I was a woodsman, leather worker by trade. Though not one of fame or fortune, but enough to survive and support my family… my family.

I was a married man… with a woman better than any man deserved be him a King himself. She was beautiful, and caring. Her tender touch could warm my body and soul on the coldest of nights… how I love her… but I jump too far ahead.

My name is Calessaben, though my friends called me Cale. My death was that of many of those called forth to defend against the Scourge and their demon masters, The Burning Legion. Though to true soldier I fought my best, and survived longer than I had ever dreamed of. For that I thank my comrades and fellow soldiers. Battle brings men together, no matter their race. But alas to return home was not my destiny… I do not weep for myself, but for my wife… and out son.

Not let it be said that the Forsaken can not weep, for after my awakening I traveled home… sneaking through the woods through out the night I was able to find my way… not through memory but like some driving force… something was calling me. As I cleared the wood line into the glade where I had made my home I new something was amiss… though the sun had set, it was still early enough in the evening for a candle to be lit in the home… or even a fire in the pit. Yet no warm glow filled the windows nor did smoke escape from the chimney. It was then that I saw what even the undead refuse to admit… that even our ones left behind had not be spared from our curse. Under the oak tree to the north stood a stone that had not been there upon my departure. As I approached the stone my fears became truth as upon the stone lay carved the name of my wife “Ella… beloved Wife and Mother”. Not let it be said that the Forsaken can not weep. For that night I shed a many unmanly tears.

As my grieve finally subsided to reason I began to grow in concern for my son… my boy. No stone lay with his name… but where could he be? Could my orphaned boy be in a orphanage? I had to know… a father must know! I picked myself up and headed off… the only city with a orphanage that I could recall was in Stormwind… Though it took several days I finally approached the city of Stormwind, but I knew I would never be allowed access to the city… not like this. So I waited until the guards grew weary from their duties and was able to slip in unnoticed. Dodging from shadow to shadow… alley to alley… I was able to approach the Orphanage. But as I slowly entered the building, thankfully, through a opened window to allow a cool breeze in I come to realize I had never dreamed so many children had been left alone in this world. I moved from bed to bed… standing over each child. Studying their face… but I soon became apparent that he was not among these children. I departed, heartbroken and scared. What had come of my boy… my sweet precious boy…

It was by sure luck that I learned the answer to my burning question. While traveling though a small town to the south… a truly disgusting place. Is this what I fought to protect? Did I lose my “human” life to keep such a town as this safe!? But I must not think such things… my only concern should be my boy. While sitting in the shadows of the inn I heard many tales and such. But one that caught my attention, though at times I am not sure why beyond pure desperation. They spoke of a human child that had actually been adopted by a dwarves clan from Dun Morogh. Claimed that the dwarf Thane himself came to Stormwind to collect the child up. Also they spoke of how then questioned about the boy the dwarf would glare angrily at them and simple state that he was his “nephew”. It seems that judging by this battle scared armor and the huge sword on his back, it was best not to press the issue.

What was left of my beating heart leapt with joy… could it be!? I didn’t wait to hear anymore or question my decision. I set off from Dun Morogh. It was a long a perilous journey, but as I came to the snow covered realm of the dwarfs I began to come to the realization that finding this dwarf clan… much less my son would be a quest worthy of the Titans themselves. But if I must I would spend the rest of my undead life searching to the truth. I had to know.

After weeks creeping though shadows and hiding in places unfitting for the living, it became obvious that my task was doomed to failure. It was then that the “Light” had blessed me… though now I must wonder, am I allow to call to the Light in my current state? But I digress. It was then that I heard the cheerful glee of a child playing. Not the heavier laughter of a dwarf child that I had grown use to, but a higher pitched sound. Could it be… had my search truly come to a end. As I followed the sound of the laughter I came upon a small clearing, a fire burned, giving off a warm and friendly glow. A large tent stood with his flaps closed to contain the heat within. A boy… played in the snow with a animal of sorts, though I could not make out what the creature was. So deep in my thoughts and glee that I almost missed the warning. It was at the last moment I heard the crunch of snow under a foot step. I dove and rolled to my side, being barely missed as a huge sword drove deep into the frozen dirt where I had crouched but a instant before. I came to my feet… only to meet the steel glare of the dwarf before me. Though he were leather and not plate armor, I had no doubt that this was the dwarf the people in that lice infested city had spoke of.

Though I do not know how or why… perhaps the Light truly does still bless me, but the dwarf hesitated instead of striking. For a brief moment we but watched each other… then his face softened. “Cale?” he asked me… could he have truly recognized me… Light be praised! The dwarf lowered his sword but yet still held it ready for use. His eyes no longer burning with battle rage, but now a tender and caring gaze.

The dwarf looked back to the boy and then to me. “He’s been well taken care o’ Cale. I promised you I would make sure they were both safe should anything ever happen to you. I gave you my word… and I have done my best to keep it.” I would never have thought it possible but his kind look grew even softer… torn with grief. “I couldna do anything for Ella… after the news o’ye death… she just was never the same. The priest couldna figure out why she grew ill an’ why their blessings couldna do nothing’ fer her… but I knew. Her heart be broken Cale… she just gave up.”

But as quickly as his look had soften it grew to joy. “Well come on, come see ye son!” But after a few steps he quickly realized I wasn’t following. His look once again took a appearance of compassion and understanding. How could I let my boy see me like this… my baby boy. After a few moments in silence the dwarf spoke to me again… his voice gentle but firm… absolute. “I will take care o’ him Cale. He is well an’ safe with me clan. They see him as one o’ our own an’ will protect him as they would any other o’ our clan.” With a single tear rolling down my face I looked upon my son… then in the only form of gratitude I could come up with I laid my hand upon his shoulder in thanks and nodded slowly. With his fear hand he reached up and patted my hand. As we broke apart I remember feeling a weight lifted from my being. My son… my boy… my Grady was safe. I turned and walked away, content with knowing that my son would be well taken care of. The dwarf watched for a moment then turned himself and strolled into the clearing. I stopped as I heard my boy speak out to him. “Uncle, is all well?” “Aye, all is well lad, why do ye ask?” the old dwarf replied. “Well you have your sword out… was there something out there?” A heard soft sigh escape from the dwarf and with a glance over his shoulder lad he replied “Nothing to be scared of lad… jes’ ye guardian angel.”

As I sit here writing this my gaze is drawn to the wet stains that litter the page… Thought he knowledge of my boy is safe relieves my heart, I know that I shall never be able to draw him close and hold him to me again. I truly am Forsaken.

Not let it be said that the Forsaken can not weep.