As one of the few surviving Goblins that took part in the Second War of Azeroth, it may not be prejudiced to say that I hold little love for the Alliance. Yet when the scourge plague descended upon the world, to hold such old grudges (especially since most of our, the Goblins that is, motivation for joining the Orcs were most monetary) in the face of a common and dangerous enemy may be seen to be petty and very much folly.
I will not trouble the readers with my accounts during the Second War, especially since most of my documents (diaries and whatnots) containing such information perished with Arthas' foolish razing of Stratholme. One might ask what a Goblin such as I be doing dwelling amongst the humans of Stratholme. Suffice it to say that I managed to barter with a fellow human who agreed sanctuary in exchange for certain Goblin engineering secrets. My benefactor's fact was unknown to me, for when Arthas begun his attack I took my opportunity to gather my projects that I have been working on and made my escape through the sewers. I ran as far as I could from the city and settled in a forest far to the west. Several months pass and I notice changes in some undead taking residence in a nearby abandoned village. These undead seem different from those that I witnessed during my escape from Stratholme as they seem to move with more resolve, as if they are once again in control of their bodies instead of shuffling about mindlessly.
Having finished my project by that time, I decided to blend in and find out more of what has happened to the world during my isolation. The project in question was a device, an illusion projector that allowed the user to create a visual image overlapping the user's own body. To others, the user's form will be seen not as the user's original but as the one projected falsely from the device. With the device activated, I step forward into the village mentioned in earlier...
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