Amid all the chaos in this world and beyond, it’s easy to forget about those who get left behind. What’s a few old ghosts compared to the whole of Azeroth? Even moreso if the consensus of good, honest people is that they’re best left forgotten. I’d like to say I’m here to argue against that line of thought. Or maybe it’s just because I think by absolving their souls in the face of the Light, my own sins might be less of a burden.From this far away, it looks entirely abandoned. That’s why the island became a fixture of haunting rumors I wager; so many smugglers and unsavory types seeking to use a lost fortress as a hideout.Murlocs are all about safety in numbers. Scatter them quickly and they’re barely more dangerous than heavy frogs. Plus, casting off from their little village cuts the time needed to cross the inlet dramatically. Ghosts may be ghosts, but ethereal arrows are as deadly as any other.No matter how many times I enter a place blackened by misdeeds, I never grow used to it. That sense of foreboding; the way the air itself feels heavy. The only sound is the gentle splashing of waves against the shore, yet if I don’t stay focused, the sounds of distant battle can be heard.The stonework is so worn down, it’s hard to tell if what I’m seeing is an old cemetary or the ruins of a fine courtyard. The dock is even worse off; I half-expect the weight of my boat’s rope to pull the last waterlogged posts free.So the Scarlets took this island over at one point. I wonder if they thought the Scourge would reach this far south? Or if this was after their madness seeped in, and they were lashing out any and all ‘heretics’. If only these books weren’t so ravaged, I might have some real answers.Ballistae facing outward? That wouldn’t make sense for the Crusade. I wonder if they belong to the earlier occupants? The tapestries left by the Crusade should’ve faded into nothing if the dock is in that bad shape, so they definitely can’t be the first.The arches are too high to be Alteraci, but don’t resemble much of the old Lordaeronian ruins I’ve seen in the Plaguelands. I’ve never seen Gilnean architecture before, but this island could be close enough for it to have been in their territory. Plus, I imagine the Crusade would have less qualms attacking isolationists than fellow citizens.Perhaps judging the state of the island by natural laws is misguided. I’ve watched them stand, occasionally patrolling for several minutes now. Can they see me?Yes, yes they can.It’s hard to make out any features on their ‘bodies’. Rather than vanish immediately after being vanquished, they collapse as a living being would, then begin to fade out of existence. I look at their faces, but it’s too muddled to make anything out. Whether they’re the souls of crusaders or another kingdom’s countrymen, I cannot say.Some attack me on sight; others simply stare with an unreadable expression. There’s something both unnerving and captivating about their purgatory…eternity in seclusion is not such a bad thing in and of itself. Yet, this malaise over the island has to affect spirits even more than the living. Are they even the souls of the departed anymore, or revenants influenced by what once was?This close to the tower, that ominous feeling has grown stronger. Something’s in there. The cause of these souls’ restless eternity? A would-be coven of wielders of dark magic? Well, there’s only one way to find out.I had noticed the bonfire from afar, but hadn’t really considered why it was lit. I’ve seen no signs of life, and I know of no reason why ghosts would maintain it. Why didn’t I consider this before?As I approached the fire, more ghosts materialized, their actions full of malice even as their faces remained inscrutable. Yet, I get the feeling that I’m not so much cleansing their souls as I am temporarily disrupting their coalescence.I cannot see inside the tower, even staring at the opening. The ghosts left ignore me entirely, yet I cannot escape the feeling someone is watching my every move. I shouldn’t enter; I should turn and leave this place. At least, that’s what I should be thinking. Instead? I want to see inside. I’ve come this far; I can’t just leave now.Old stone, rotten wood and a collapsed ceiling. An old tower, a forgotten island, isolated from the world. There’s nothing here. Yet, as I look out at the distant shores of a kingdom even more isolated I can’t help but think there’s far more beneath the surface here. Perhaps I need a second opinion…someone with a more spiritual touch.
