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Write That Book,
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 You could almost hear the sun that day. When I say that, I mean you could hear everything cooking under its light. The rocks hissed when a drop of sweat hit them. Unfortunately, the time we spent indoors was little thanks to the farm owners. The owners watched from the shade of the house as we walked hard, cracked earth towards the plants that thrived.
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 Groundskeeper Alan, a slouching old man from a bygone era, roamed the gardens protecting me from any intruders. Being of noble blood, but living so far from the common people. Thus, I didn’t understand why Alan was walking around the manor in the cold, dragging that brutish dog with him.
 There is a strange sensation that creeps through you once a bullet enters your body. At first, it is simple and understandable. You feel fear, a burning sensation on entry and the pulse of pain that fills your core. However, I felt a shock through my body, almost electrical in nature. I was going to die, but what mattered was what I did in the next few minutes.
 The fierceness of these creatures was is known throughout the forest. A mixed breed of corrupted man and elf, creatures born of horror and torment. Elves that have long since lost the power of reason, instead relying on their own lust for power and sheer will to spread suffering. These are Blood Elves and they should be removed from this plane of existence.
 The day that was so easily remember, at least if we had the choice, we would have. So much sadness...so much anger. We were crippled by emotions, lies and weakness. On one hand, it would reach that point sooner or later, but the way we went, it was what doomed us to this torment.
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