I went to work within a war factory of the mighty Scourge today! Naxxramas bristles with activity. I was saddened to learn that they were using more foolish puzzle mechanisms to power mission-critical teleport devices, but otherwise it seemed to be a tight ship. My thoughts turned toward gainful research, until I ran astray of the perverse nerubian...

The Nerubian's overtures are without number. Always calling to me in that creepy, droning voice of its. Invitations to study in his 'parlor'. I've taken to sequestering myself in the broken pipe behind Gluth's chambers, as it's the only place he won't follow me. My mind is wearing thin!

How does this lackadaisical cadre of misfits and rotting corpses intend to conquer all of Azeroth? Their self-defeating disingenuity falls short of any reasonable appearance of effort at self-preservation! I can make no effort to effect change with the detestable nerubian hounding my footsteps and blackening my dreams!

Though this may seem a trend in my recent ventures with employment in the Scourge, adventurers have broken into the necropolis and are killing my colleagues. Alas, even the hot redhead in Faerlina's cult, slain, before the creepy spider would let me talk with her! I hate this place, as soon as I turn undead I'm SO out of here. It's time to fight!