What do you do when you are asked to do something that goes against your beliefs?
How do you behave when you principles become compromised?
When your friends become enemies and your enemies become friends, who can you turn to and who can you trust?
Never in the history of Dwarven-kind did we ever have reason to aid our enemies. When Dwarven children were growing up, their parents would paint them the horrors of the various monsters and beasts around the world. As a Priest, I was taught to go after them and defend my country and my right to live as a Dwarf.
We did whatever it took to safeguard our borders. From the mountains of Redridge to the Marshes of Dustwallow I went. Our objective to wipe the evil fish off the face of the planet. Every Murloc, slain. Every hovel, leveled. Any trace of Murloc, annihilated.
Our path was clear and merciless from the day our training ended.
I should’ve known priorities had changed. Quel’Danas offered the first clue. Freeing Murlocs from the clutches of Naga magic? Why not wipe them both out and be done with it? I was confused at first. I thought there was more to this. Like a faithful and obedient Dwarf, I followed my orders to the letter.
Upon reaching the shores of Northrend, I was tasked to assist yet another group of Murlocs. I had trouble reconciling this with beliefs that have been grounded into me since I had gotten my first whisker at 6 months.
Murlocs. We are helping Murlocs fight other Murlocs. I have gone from mindlessly bringing whole Murloc villages to the ground to risking my life to rescue Murloc Tadpoles (children) from captivity. I infiltrated a cave under the guise as one of their own and led a small strike force deep into the heart of enemy territory. Silencing the guards were easy. Extracting the Murlocs held hostage were a bit more of a challenge.
For the first time in my career – nay, my life – I fought back to back with a Murloc covering my flank and I his. My Apostle more than held its own effortlessly cleaving the tainted Murlocs in half (after some practice from being rusty at least). In the end, the operation was ultimately a success with zero casualties.
However, going on these joint missions have left a sour taste in my mouth. I wish to be rid of them as quick as possible. I would much rather be supervising Gnomes. I now question my ethics. To whom do I owe my allegiance? The Dwarven banner or to myself?
This is the difficulty that I must wrestle with internally.
Now I have a vague idea how Americans thought when they first executed joint missions with the Russians.
