Nothing in this war with the Burning Legion has gone according to plan. Nothing. Every battle we win is followed by two defeats. Every demon we slay is replaced by ten more.
Like my father, I was once so certain of victory. So overconfident. So foolish. Most resistance fighters still are. They hold tight to their archaic ways, unwilling to accept that we cannot best our enemy through conventional means. We are fighting something alien to this world, something born of nightmare.
There is one elf who understands this: Illidan Stormrage. He knows that to defeat the demons, we must adapt. We must embrace extraordinary new tactics. If not, we will die. It is as simple as that.
Perhaps you consider Illidan an arrogant sorcerer, or even a menace to our way of life. I once did, but my opinions have changed. I am writing to explain why, and to chronicle what I have learned of Illidan. Despite his dangerous reputation, I believe he is our only chance of surviving the days ahead.
I first met Illidan in the early stages of the war, back when I considered the Burning Legion a passing threat. The night elf resistance was headquartered at my family's ancestral home, the great fortress of Black Rook Hold. Those days were glorious to behold. Thousands of elves gathered at the stronghold from the far ends of the empire, all sworn to defend our lands against the demons.
As the daughter of Commander Ravencrest, I enjoyed a position of power and privilege. I attended council meetings with sorcerers from the Moon Guard, priestesses from the Sisterhood of Elune, and other influential figures. I also crossed paths with lesser-known resistance members-elves like Illidan.
Illidan came to Black Rook Hold with his brother, the druid Malfurion Stormrage, and the priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. I met the trio only briefly, and they did not leave any lasting impressions on me. Illidan in particular seemed like just one more sorcerer among the hundreds who had joined the resistance.
Yet soon, everyone would know his name. And some, like me, would come to distrust him.
I should have admired Illidan from the beginning. After all, he saved my father's life.
It happened during a mission that Kur'talos took into the wilds beyond Black Rook Hold. I was not there to witness it, but it was reported that one of the Legion's ravenous felhunter demons attacked and disarmed my father. The beast would have devoured him if Illidan had not intervened. With his quick thinking and mastery of the arcane, the Stormrage twin defeated the demon and spared my father a grim end.
Rather than downplay this event, my father celebrated it. He named Illidan his personal sorcerer, and young Stormrage became the talk of the resistance. Moon Guard members clamored for an audience with him to discuss his thoughts on the war, the nature of demons, and the arcane arts. Before long, Illidan had gained a reputation as a sorcerer without equal.
From that day forward, Illidan fought by my father's side in battle. I watched him like a storm crow, determined to learn more about this strange new member of my family's inner circle.
What I discovered did not put my heart at ease. Far from it.
We are all driven by something. Revenge. Hope. Love. Hate. Illidan was no different. Resentment and bitterness churned in his heart, fueling his every thought and action.
The resentment came because he felt inferior to Malfurion, whose deeds always overshadowed Illidan's own. One example of this occurred when the Stormrage brothers both studied druidism. Illidan had already learned sorcery, but he desired to master the druidic arts as well. Such was not to be his fate, however. Whereas Malfurion excelled at wielding nature magic, Illidan failed.
The bitterness stemmed from Illidan's love for Tyrande Whisperwind. He adored the priestess, but she did not reciprocate his feelings. I think he also feared that Malfurion would inevitably win her heart.
Over time, he became obsessed with destroying the Legion, and he criticized any ally whom he saw as incompetent. He directed most of his ire at Latosius, the elderly commander of the Moon Guard sorcerers. To Illidan, Latosius symbolized everything that was wrong with the resistance. The old elf was stubborn, unimaginative, and timid. His ineffective tactics wasted the sorcerers' talents. More than once, Illidan claimed that he could do a better job leading the Moon Guard.
When Latosius fell in battle to the Legion, Illidan would have a chance to make good on that claim.
Though I distrusted Illidan, my father did not. He appointed the young sorcerer as the Moon Guard's commander. Immediately, Illidan set to work reforging the order. He pushed the sorcerers to their limits and developed new methods of wielding arcane magic.
The most controversial of these methods involved Illidan channeling the other sorcerers' powers through himself. This granted him incredible arcane might, and he used it to annihilate scores of demons. Yet there was a price. The sorcerers who gave their power to Illidan were left defenseless in battle. Many succumbed to the Legion's fel-tainted blades. Illidan never apologized for these deaths. He saw them as necessary sacrifices.
As the days and weeks passed, Illidan's mood darkened, though I am not sure why. I believe something had changed in his relationship with Malfurion and Tyrande. Whenever I mentioned his ill humor, Illidan would talk about a different subject, or he would simply glare at me and say nothing.
Some elves admired Illidan. After all, he was hurting the demons. Making them suffer. Under his command, the Moon Guard had become one of the resistance's most powerful weapons. Yet my father grew concerned about Illidan's recklessness, and he questioned his decision to make him the Moon Guard's leader.
Perhaps Kur'talos could have stopped Illidan's rash behavior, but he never had the opportunity. A Legion agent assassinated my father, and his death threw the resistance into turmoil and uncertainty.
What I felt after my father's passing is not for you to know. That pain is mine to keep. Mine to use. But I will say that my views changed. My hubris crumbled away. I questioned everything and everyone. I searched for a way to strike back at the Legion, for a weapon to make the demons suffer as much as I had.
And in that searching, I realized that Illidan had been right all along. Though he was cold and arrogant, he had been effective. He understood that to defeat the demons, we must make sacrifices. We must forgo our fear and apprehension, and embrace the unknown.
In the wake of my father's death, Illidan disappeared. Rumors spread concerning his whereabouts. Some elves claimed he had died. Others said he had abandoned the resistance and joined the demons. Do not believe these lies. Illidan is still on our side. He is working from the shadows to uncover the Legion's weaknesses. No matter how questionable his methods may be, they are necessary.
I go now to find him, to walk in his footsteps and learn what I can about our enemy. Where this path will lead, I do not know. But I will do whatever I must to avenge my father and save our race from extinction.
If you wish to do the same, come find me.
