I . The Streets of Gilneas

As the lives of street peasants went, ours were easier than most. Of course, we had no home. We would tread the aching streets as shadows and trash, but unlike in most lands, we were allowed this simple treasure. We could live, we could beg, and we could feed where food was left. We were not shunned. The people of Gilneas treated rats as neighbors. They treated us the same as the rats.

I am Wolveine. I am not special among the street rats. I have chosen a street and tend to stay there. My food comes from the same few locations, and I have befriended those fortunate enough to own houses. They know I have no choice in being what I am. The jobs are all taken, and with our being separate from the Alliance and the Horde, we lacked trade routes, and therefore supplies to build homes and fuel new jobs. None blamed our brilliant leader, the great Genn Greymane. We could not help the foolish wars outside of our kingdom destroy us. It was better we remain neutral, our lives intact, stable, and assured.

It was our great leader who spared we of little wealth the unkindness most towns would grace us with. He ensured we would be respected and safe by entrusting us with the protection of Gilneas. We would lurk every street and take down wrongdoers, keeping the city safe and the people good. It was a good deal for us all. We were given the best lives the cities could give us with what little it had, and the city was kept in peace. There was little conflict, and all was well.