An ominous thunderstorm was raging, and the earth trembled as forked lightning split open the sky. The downpour went on for most of the day now, and during this fair summer time it seemed almost like an ill omen, a portent for what seemed to be stirring in the south. The rumours of another invasion were spreading like wildfire amongst the city guard and recently, in many a tavern the conversations were heavy with the tone of fear and despair, instead of the usual laughter and merriment.
Gaebriel closed his eyes for a moment, to soothe the sting of the constant rain. Absent-mindedly, he ran his hand across his face, brushing aside the wet strands of his hair that stuck to it. He had been standing on the balcony of the Order's home in Lakeshire for hours to clear his head, leaning on his sword with both hands, overlooking the still serene countryside. A sudden crack of thunder rudely awoke him from his thoughts, his hands tightening their grip on his sword instinctively.
"It has been too many.." he mumbled to himself. "Too many lives, too many families ripped apart....too many homes destroyed, and for what reason? The enemy we face has no need for conquest, no desire for truce nor parley." Gaebriel wiped his forehead as a small raindrop snaked its way towards his brow. "They cannot be reasoned with, they rush on and on as a single entity, fearless and without mercy, not halting until the whole of our world lies smoking at their feet."
He bit his lower lip hard suddenly, much harder then he meant to, and a barely noticable drop of blood trickled down his chin. "No!" he suddenly spoke aloud.
"I shall not allow this to go any further. We have seen enough of this war, enough of this violence and bloodshed. We shall not allow a single one of these foul netherspawn to set foot upon our beloved homelands no more. Too long have we fought a losing battle, too long have we waited idly for the enemy to come, our forces dispersed. Today, we must make a stand. Today, we must make a final stand side by side, brother to brother, sister to sister. We must stand fearless and strong, undaunted by the knowledge of what we may face, of what terrible opponents await us.
For as day breaks and the sun blesses our lands with its comforting rays, we take courage from the thought that we shall not falter, that we shall and defend them to the bitter end and no Legion shall stand in our way! United in purpose, men and women, guided by the holy Light, shining strong upon all that stand in the breach for a better future, a bright future for all of our families, without war or strife!
Under the banners of Azeroth we shall fight, we shall fight until the last of these otherworldly abominations has been vanquished and banished back to the hellish realms they came from! They shall learn that no one can lay siege to our lands unpunished, that no one can invade our kingdoms and counties, that no one can oppress our people without facing our wrath! We are the hand of justice, the mailed fist of Azeroth, and we shall never surrender!"
Gaebriel turned around and walked back inside, his soaking wet cloak swirling clumsily around his armoured frame.
"Brothers and sisters, the time has come to ride out as one. We are going to war."