[A curious young woman appears on the video as she stares at the tablet in her hands, somewhat interested in the new and different and technology and all--when she remembers that oh right, she'd planned on talking to people. Way to make an impression of being focused and prepared...

She clears her throat.] Er, hi there. My name's Shirley, and... These people--y'know, the Initiative and all--they're really not picky when it comes to people who end up here and all, huh? So I just wanted to clarify something: not everything has to be about fighting, right? I can't say I'm good with anything like diplomacy either, but it's a better start than something like shooting someone...

Sorry if it's a simple question. I just wanted to be absolutely sure; thank you for your time in advance.

... actually, there's just one more thing. [A pause, because this is a lot more awkward of a topic to bring up. Still, she can't help but be curious given her own circumstances.] This is probably gong to seem silly, but this isn't actually some kind of weirdly militaristic afterlife, is it?

[It's been days, perhaps weeks since she arrived, and it's taken this long for her to feel comfortable broadcasting even her voice in a public place. Even so, the message is short as she makes an effort to keep distress or dismay out of her voice.]

Since we've all been taken from our homes, there must be many out there who have left behind family, friends, and loved ones. As I've been told, there are people who have been trapped in this place for months.

Does time make the ache of being apart fade? Is there a way to make that pain subside?

[He really has no desire to make this post. If he were acting entirely of his own accord, he would simply follow the trail of dead, as it were, until they brought him to Arthas. But despite the guilt weighing on him for everything that's happened recently, and despite how very little he wants to discuss it, he had promised not to face Arthas alone again. To several people.

Koltira is, at the very least, a man of his word.]

I have noticed some of you wondering about the cause behind the recent infestation of malevolent undead. Only a few beings here have the ability to spread the plague of undeath [such as Koltira himself.], and only one of them is interested in doing so with abandon.

Arthas Menethil is responsible for these attacks. He is a man--a monster--of great power and evil, and he eventually becomes known as the Lich King back in our home, Azeroth. He has razed cities; destroyed civilizations. He would like nothing more than to turn this island into a necropolis.

I don't intend to let him.

[This next part is difficult. He might grind his teeth a little.]

If you feel the need to accompany me, you may, though I advise against it. I saw many of you take Arthas for a posturing fool back when he introduced himself. I assure you that he is not. Especially not here. This war-torn island is the perfect place for any necromancer to work, and few necromancers are as skilled as a death knight. Going after him will mean going after whatever else he has dredged up from these corpse-ridden fields.

[He pauses, and then adds.]

I have also not seen much of the Lady Jaina Proudmoore recently. As she is not the type to sit idly by during a Scourge incursion, I must conclude that Arthas has done something to her. Rescuing her, if I can, is my other objective.

[But, he has to be real. It's mostly about Arthas.]

If you wish to assist me, meet me outside the Hold, five hours from now.

[The Elf fiddles with the small computer, touching the various buttons until his face appears, glancing somewhere off-camera. He is easily recognizable to some as a blood elf, and appears utterly fascinated by the contraption before him, and obviously enjoying playing with it.]

...You know, this almost seems like a neat little way to solve quite a few of my current problems, if only in a temporary fashion. Of course, in closing one door another dozen others have a habit of opening in return.

[Food for thought, there. The Elf flicks one long ear and leans back from where he's sitting, quiet for a moment, as if trying to figure out just what he should say next. When he finally speaks again, there's a lightness to his voice that isn't quite conveyed in his eyes, despite the relatively smooth performance.]

But where are my manners? I apologize. My name is Duibhín Sunstorm and I'm a recent transport, like others, it seems, for what it's worth.

[He shrugs delicately and lets his lips curl into the faintest of smiles. Time to make the best of a strange situation and find something to occupy himself with before he ends up having a temper tantrum.]

Don't be shy now. I'm rather eager to meet people.

[ Something isn't right-- no, something hasn't been right, and she should have known. If only she hadn't been so busy with her own tasks. But not long after the outbreak starts and a commotion goes up, she know. She is no stranger to this particular brand of undeath. When Alexstrasza addresses the network, her voice is level, her tone stern, but her face shows an undercurrent of disappointment, failure, and concern. ]

Transports of Exsilium, the creatures you have so graciously taken into your homes as of a few days ago are not what they appear. If they have not already, they will be begin to act strangely and become increasingly more ill, until they pass on and mutate into what many of them have already become: put simply, undead.

It pains me to say there is very little that can be done for them, save to spare them their suffering. Avoid being bitten at all costs, and be cautious of what you eat or drink. If you have already been bitten, then you will be subject to the same fate, if you do not find a holy healer as soon as humanly possible. Even then...

To the priests and holy magic users of Exsilium, I implore you, help your fellows. If you find yourself tired, come see me at the clinic and I will aid you in whatever way I can. I will be doing everything I can to create a shelter there for anyone who seeks refuge or may be in need of healing.

[ She looks like she might say something more, but cuts the feed abruptly. ]

[[ ooc: anyone who comes by the clinic will find at LEAST one very large red dragon hovering overhead. Feel free to hit me up via pm if you want to arrange anything or if I have stepped on any toes. ]]

[The video feed flips on, focusing (after a few seconds of jostling around) on Galadriel, sitting on the steps of the Initiative Hold, her sheathed sword beside her. Having just finished training, she’s attired appropriately, wearing a simple dress and with her hair braided and wound about her head- displaying those pointed ears quite prominently for those who might have missed them before.]

I grow weary of the constant grey here. It is overlong since I have heard a running stream or seen the sunlight filtered through the forest canopy.

Tell me, those of you who have journeyed outside this city: does greenery yet remain in this world? It would do my heart well even to hear of it.

[ Hey Exsilium, tired of grumpy elves showing up? This one is a rare sight really, as she's normally decked out in heavy armor and a helm. Also iron bars, but that's so a few weeks ago. The green in her eyes shouldn't be anything out of the ordinary thanks Blood Elves, but her skin is a light color reminiscent of orchids. With the color about faded from her hair and the dismissive look she gives the netbook, her age might shine blatantly through. The name MAIEV SHADOWSONG might not mean anything to most people, but that thought hardly phases her. In fact, she feels it's a tolerable enough excuse to not introduce herself.

In all honesty, Maiev's been here for a few days and judging by the background of the earth behind her, she's set up camp away from the usual parts of society. ]

There remains little of this earth to draw nourishment from. [ Voicing a complaint so early on, who would have thought it of an elf? ] Therefore I will have to seek out the lodging provided here. Those who reside in unit six hundred and three should prepare themselves for my added company.

[ It's so hard to brood when the environment around you sucks and it shows as the lines in her face scrunch further in her disappointment. She pauses, reluctant to ask a question. Realizing shortly after that there's no need to, she'll get it out of the way. ]

Is there anyone from Azeroth here?