Illidan sighed as he sharpened his blades, thinking of all that had transpired. Gul’dan, once a trusted ally, had allowed power and greed to corrupt his heart. Now only darkness remained.
But Illidan remembered a time long ago, when Gul’dan smiled easily and cared for his people. Before the Legion twisted his mind with promises of might. They had been so young then, with a whole life ahead, dreaming of making their mark.
That night, as Illidan entered the dim cave where Gul’dan lurked, part of him still hoped his old friend could be saved. But Gul’dan barely resembled the orc Illidan had known. With a sneer, he attacked, leaving Illidan no choice.
The battle was fierce but brief. As Gul’dan’s life force faded, Illidan felt only loss. Another soul claimed by the Legion’s lies. Maybe, if he had tried harder to help Gul’dan resist, things would have turned out differently.
Now all that was left was to ensure no others fell prey as Gul’dan had. Illidan vowed to stop the Legion, whatever the cost, to spare others the pain of losing someone to darkness. The defeat of Gul’dan was bitter, a reminder of what power and misguided pride could do if left unchecked.
Illidan sat by the fire, lost in thought as night fell over the barren mountain pass. So much had changed since his youth growing up with Gul’dan in the plains of Nagrand. Back then, even as outsiders in their clan, the two brothers in all but blood had dreamed of making their mark.
Gul’dan had always been ambitious, pushing Illidan to unlock his potential. Together they studied the arcane arts, seeking to understand their place in the world. For a time, Illidan believed Gul’dan truly wanted the best for their people.
But then the shadowy figures from the Twisting Nether came, whispering lies to Gul’dan of unimaginable power through demonic pact. Slowly, Illidan watched his friend’s heart blacken and twist. Where once there was care, now was only cruelty. Those who questioned Gul’dan’s new path disappeared without a trace.
Even so, a small part of Illidan hoped Gul’dan might still renounce the Legion if shown another way. But in their final battle, he saw there was nothing left of the orc who had been like a brother. Only a monster remained, lost to darkness.
Now as the campfire’s embers faded to ash, Illidan was left wondering how many more would fall prey before this shadowy war could end? He clung to hope that by stopping Gul’dan, at least one soul might be spared further torment. Perhaps in death, his old friend might finally find the peace that had eluded him in life.