Moigran.

-Wetlands, Second War-

Moigran huffs and pants as he and his comrades load their rifle in typically dwarven fashion, allowing them to fire randomly over the top at the Orcs approaching their trench deep into the soaked soil of Northern Khaz'Modan. They were outnumbered and they were out of luck. 'Feck, feck, feck...Ligh' save us', mutters the Dwarf as his brethen nod in agreement, still firing bullets and blasts of Holy Light at the enemies but nothing seems to halt the relentless horde of green skinned beasts from maintaining their campaign. It was a desperate situation alas with the Dwarven fierocity the Orcs stood short of destroying the regiment and gaining the yards towards the goal, Mother Ironforge.

Fortunately it was his turn to sleep however sleeping during these times, was a next to impossible task. Your eyes shut, but refuse to block out your conscience, as sweat boils on your brow and thoughts rumble through your brain like thunder. How are we going to survive? Will we be saved? Why would the Light fail us like this? The Light is superior to the Orcs...Right? Uncertain thoughts plague your mind. Thoughts that previously never rised, arise, as your nose sniffs out the Orcish stalker instincts kick in.

Power.

-Mount Hyjal, Third War-

The same Dwarf, barely aged, waltzes in a musical fashion throughout the mixed troops of the Battle of Mount Hyjal. Tauren, Trolls, Orcs all standing strong around you fighting off the greater foe. Enveloped in pure Shadow, Moigran found solace in the mixture. A newly ordained Shadowpriest, of his own twisted faith, wasn't judged on the peak of the mountain, not when his corruptive skills swiftly deals with several Fel-damned creatures bent on savouring the flesh of a nearby group of Humans. Moigran knew ofcourse, that once the War was fought, his home, his people wouldn't be as accepting of his necessary evil.

Narrowly avoiding a group of wildeyed Elves, the ablebodied Dwarf found his bed within the Warlock Coven dealing with the same moral decision as he. "Halt" spoke the dark-armoured guardian protecting the frail male Witches, "Speak your business!". Moigran doubled back to completely eye up the man, he knew ofcourse, that the few Warlocks involved in this War were -hated- and sometimes slew mistaken for the Legion. Or were they? Despite his worries, he answered in his normal dialect, "I'm a friend, lad. Shadowpriest Agrimon, I mean nay 'arm te the fel users".

Ushered into the cave, he once again struggled to find sleep amongst war. Surrounded by demons, abberations, corruption. What his parents would say now, if their old beards still grew on this world.

Shame.

-Modern day, Ironforge-

"Praise our Makers! Khaz'goroth te' Shaper, Eonar te Life Binder, Aggramar te Avenga'...Offt, Oi!" yells the young Dwarven Priest as Moigran, now older and withering, walked past him whacking his head with the staff he was famous for wielding to discipline.

"Theistical faiths?" the bane of his life, as he went on, on his tangent "Ye still go on about ye'r feckin' DEITIES? Yer so called Titans!? Te 'Oly Light is te only thin' worthy o' worship! Do ye need te bow down an kiss te booties o' te 'Oly Light!? Nay! Te faith is within ye'self, te power is inside yer 'eart! Nut spewin' from some giant sculpture's mouth! Bah!"

"Ey, wha'ever old man! Git back te yer rockin' chair!", cursed the young Dwarf as he walked off rubbing his forehead better calling upon Eonar to sooth it.

Moigran Grengar...Agrimon...Whoever this Dwarf was, he certainly didn't agree with the blasphemy brought forward by the Explorers League. As a servant of the worldy powers since his youth, the balance of the Light and the Darkness, the ultimate two forces that keep Azeroth as it is was -the- most important thing in his life.

His old age bringing forth a new dawn in his mind, the Shadow had served him well during needy times, his mind permanently scarred from it's use no doubt, however it was the Light that saw him through birth and his upbringing perhaps it was the Light that needed to descend him into death.

With his life spinning on normality, the powers of the Shadow dwindled from his grasp long ago. A basic curse perhaps remained within his grasp, but he didn't preach or practice the evil needed to maintain his mastery. Secrecy was key in Ironforge, this taboo, was his greatest friend at this moment.

The Light on the other hand, unfortunately far out of his grasp by now, remained a memory and an emptiness inside him was gaping, ready to be filled by it. A new mindset set forth a new decision, Ironforge was never going to grant him the respect and the Priesthood with the population turning towards false idols. It was his Human cousins that kept his and his forefathers faith alive, the Disciples of Light.

Rebirth.

---------------

-A letter arrives at the Cathedral of Light, sealed with a simple mark of Ironforge-

To whom it may concern,

My name is Moigran Grengar, a Dwarf of the Ironforge Clan, a Dwarf of utter non-theistical beliefs and a Dwarf that has fought in the Great Wars with just the faith burning in his heart as his weapon. It is with these claims that I seek solace in your Priesthood, my kindred are beyond salvation at the present moment, the corruption of the Titan's has delved too deep into the minds of the youth of Ironforge. Dull days are certainly ahead for my Nation, I'm afraid.

Alas although a great many still revere the same ancient faith that we both praise in my homeland, their numbers are dwindling and it is not for myself, at my age, to die on a sinking ship stinking of blasphemy.

I may be old but I'm not beyond war, I may be old but I'm not beyond giving direction, I may be old but I'm not beyond preaching and granting salvation to the few that may still listen to our true words may they be cultists, thieves, whores or the lowest of society. The Light answers to all.

It is with these promises, that I apply to your noble Order, I hope you will consider me.

Glory under the Light,

Priest Moigran Grengar.

-------
Just something I wrote for my DoL application, thought I'd post it here.

I'm glad you shared it (and, ahem, told me it was here because I need new eyes!). I like seeing the pieces of his life, and the extent to which he's changed -- he's seen it all, so to speak, and the transition from following the Shadow to Light is a nice character twist. Havin' a look over your work for grammar and typos probably wouldn't hurt, but otherwise, looks ace, and I well enjoyed the read!

Aniane wrote: Havin' a look over your work for grammar and typos probably wouldn't hurt, but otherwise, looks ace, and I well enjoyed the read!

That I could, simply put, it was an application not a proper 'story' so to speak, so I didn't put in the proper etiquette.

Slacker.

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