((I'm remaking this story, mainly because I no longer RP as a dragon, and I made it back when I was, so my backstory is kinda changed.)
A man was walking through the breath taking Hinterland forests. All around him were tree's, wide and massive, pointing at the sky, on the back of a gryphon high in the sky the forest below would look like a bed of needles, the trees were so many in number. As the man walked along the path, he came to a high hill. Walking up this hill, he followed the path further, into what today is called eastern plaguelands, but before now was known as a place of beauty, the lush forests could lift the spirits of even the most down hearted, but the specter of death had come, the Naxxramas was here, and with it, the undead. The place that was once lush, and seemed to be alive, was now broken, and barren, almost no life could be seem amywhere. The man gasped at the wasteland, turning to the west, a small town look like a ghost town, when once it was a great place. No longer. The houses seemed to destroyed, utterly, undead still seemed to be there, one house, was not broken into yet, it still held out. This house was the traveling mans house.
The man let out a warcry, he whispered a few words, and a gleaming horse with an aura of the holy light came from seeming no where, but the horse had been there all along, waiting for its master's call. On the horses back, was gleaming golden armor, the man snatched the armor with speed, and quickly put it on, he grabbed his shield and warhammer from his back, running at his horse he quickly mounted it, the horse then charged down the hill, with tons of speed, straight at the undead.
As the man on horse back reached the house, he let the hammer swing with force that would be able to topple pillars, and shatter stone. The hammer found its mark. Five times. The undead fell, mere skeletons, bones broken, unable to get to there feet again, they pass away. Though there were at least 20 left, he swong again, hitting three across the skull, each one shattering as it was hit. A skeleton charged him, a standard sword it swong at the Man's neck, the man lifted his sheld blocking the attack, to counter attack, the man brought the pummel of his hammer down on the skeletons arm joint, which was locked from swinging it's sword. From impact, the joint broke, sending the arm in to pieces, the horse then stood up on it's back legs, front legs a blaze, the skeleton that had tried to strike his master was in pieces, on the ground.
The man then swong his hammer more times, striking more than one each time, the fight was dull and boring, so I will spare you from it.
((What do you think? Should I continue this story? Or should it stop here. Never to know the answer again? Your choice.))