When Wrath was about to hit, I decided to devote myself to...zombie hunting. I was Alliance (I know...forgive me...) and had begun to make a name for myself there. Any zombie that came within a stone's throw of Stormwind? They were taken out by my bow, or my beast's jaws, or a combination of the two...and soon I was starting to make a name for myself in...other circles as well.

One day (in fact, literally ONE day before Wrath dropped) while in Eastvale Logging Camp, I was accosted by a zombie attacking Sara Timberlain. Unfortunately, before I could dispatch said zombie, he had already killed poor Sara.

I was incensed!

My arrows flew from my bow like a flock of seagulls for Iran (obsure joke...budum chssh!) and soon, I found myself quickly outnumbered. Zombie after zombie had pressed in upon me, forcing me back into the logging mill until there was nowhere for me to escape. My pet already dead, I had nothing left but my sword and my determination, but in the end even this was not enough...

I fell before the zombie horde and arose as one of their numbers.

"Hello..." one of them proffered.
"Brains?" I feebly responded.
"Indeed," he replied.
"BRAINS!!!"

And the rest, as they say, is history.