From Maclorens address to the Neophites

I am Macloren, The Fist of Retribution, First blood son & Lord Militant of the most holy Order of Illumination. I was born from conflict, loss & anger & every moment of my life has been saturated with blood & rage.

I have been asked by Lord Shadowbreaker to enlighten you as to my past so that you might better understand the man I am today. & so here it is the story of my life.

I was born in Lorderon before the fall of Arthas, it was a time of peace, a time of joy where war & death happened in far distant lands. I remember nothing of it. My first memory is blood, I remember my father returning home from war, I was yet to meet him as he had been at Stormwind keep fighting the horde. I remember being terrified of the bloodstained giant, his Plate scored & dented, his red beard spattered with gore. He & my uncle had been fighting in the rearguard all the way from Stormwind with the Lightbringer himself, buying time for Arthas to win clear & get the refugees safely to Lorderon. Many brave men were lost in that desperate action, selling their lives to buy the safety of others.

It was at this time that I also first met Uther Lightbringer, he came to my father with an invitation. I remember sitting with my mother while he spoke passionately with my father & uncle, Uther told them that he was going to found a new order of knights, to be called the Knights of the Silver Hand. It was a great honour my mother told me & my father & uncle eagerly accepted Uther’s offer. I remember sitting in the kitchen watching the three men talk as Uther disclosed his plans for the Silver Hand. I remember nothing of what was actually said, so spellbound was I by the passion with which the Lightbringer spoke, & I knew at that moment that I would follow in my fathers footsteps into Uther’s service.

I sat there for hours as the three men spoke long into the night, they were so different from each other in looks. My father was a massive man, when you are a child, all men are massive, but Lorn, my father was a giant, well over 6 foot, broad shoulders & thick arms. My uncle Argil, like all the men folk on my mothers side was short, built like my father in girth, but was over a head shorter than him. As you can see, I have my fathers colouring & my Uncles build. Uther was not a physically imposing man, taller than my uncle, shorter than my father with grey hair & beard. But there was a fire in his eyes that was the most compelling thing I had seen either before or since. Having met Uther it was easy to believe my father when he described him as the greatest man of our age. The three of them, so different in looks & yet they shared a connection that made them seem more like brothers, closer than any siblings I had ever met. I would come to know this bond well, I’m sure you recognise the same kinship that you feel with your brothers & sisters of the Order.

I felt this as a dull ache through my early years, there was something missing from my life. I loved my mother dearly, however that love was somehow not enough. When I was a child I craved the attention of my father, he was very rarely there for me & I took it out on my mother, I accused her of chasing my father away from us. She in turn tried to protect me from the life her husband had chosen but it was never something she could keep me from, I had already chosen the same path the day I first met Uther.

I craved the connection that my father shared with Uther & my uncle, a brotherhood that I understood at a very young age. A brotherhood that goes beyond family ties. One day I fell in the yard & was inconsolable, my mother tried to comfort me, however I needed the solace of the brotherhood. My heart aches for her now that she is gone, however she could never provide what I needed. What I needed was the connection of the brotherhood. I needed the touch of the divine. I have built my life upon this, witch is why I place the Order above all things, even my own life.

My mother was a devout woman, Light alone knows how else she could have put up with my father. I have learned most of what I know of him from Brothers Evangelist & Azeem. They say he was much like myself only less rash. I would some day like to garner a measure of his temperance, as little as he had. I live for the moment, as I’m sure you have gathered by now, but my mother was much the same. Of my mother my father used to say ‘Flaming hair, Flaming temper’ he was probably right. It is true of all my mothers side, we are Northfolk. I have been told that she had a temper to mach my own, my uncle was relatively calm by the standards of my mother’s side of the family. I had another uncle who went mad with battlerage & ended his life in battle with the horde during the first war. My mother would often speak fondly of him & warn me against letting my inner rage get the better of me. Not that it did me any good, as I have said, I spent the first half of my life in a perpetual rage & not until the incident at the chapel of the hammer did I calm my passion. That however is another story.

((more to follow))