I never wanted this...

This isn't what I wanted. Pulled from my family and peaceful life to join his ranks. But I their I awoke, water thrown at my face, the cold dead eyes watching me. There on the ground, I was being judged, for my worthiness. Tears felt, hot tears, and they burned my open wounds. At that point all I knew was hate. My life had been torn away, leaving a hollow shell, full of nothing but desire for revenge. It was that that they sensed, and I was chosen. Forced into armor and thrown at the feet of the Lich King himself, I could only stare, and my will was barely my own. I was called to serve and I answered, for it was that or death. So there I followed his commands and those of others, forging my own blade, which I then was forced to use to kill one that was unworthy. His blood was pooled around my hooves and dripping from my blade, and it felt good.

It was then had to obtain my mount, as dark a thing as everything else in that place. At least what I had to kill wasn't alive. That first day there was much blood spilled, the ground was mud beneath my hooves from all the blood that was being spilled, guards and innocents alike. The peasants begged for the lives of their families but none listened, myself included, I had my own family to fight for. The lucky ones were spared the blade and became zombies, mindless things that would feel little pain.
I was starting to feel myself slip away. All that kept me grounded was a small frost wyrm that I had found during the slaughter. He had been lying next to an abandoned mail box, frightened and alone. Frosty was my last link to my formal self. With him beside me the Lich King could not have all of me. Much more blood was on my hands that day, including that of a friend, tears flowed from my eyes once more that day as I plunged my sword through his chest, to save us both. I went back to Arthas for more orders.I was to take a Frost Wyrm and kill over 100 men. What parts of my soul that had remained were slowly being destroyed, I barely had to thinks about whether or not I would take on this task. Once again it was the thought of my family and Frosty that pulled me through. After the slaughter Arthas presented me with the Helm of the Death Knights and I was sent to perform what had to be one of the most heinous acts, destroying Lights Hope Chapel. By this point I was almost to far gone to care. I mounted up and headed over the to commander in charge of the assault and prepared to destroy this holy place. It was in our loss that I found my salvation. I took arms against the infestation in Ebon Hold, with the Might of Morgraine behind me there was nothing I couldn't do.
Once the area was cleared, I realized what had become of me. I was inches away from losing my soul with innocent lives on my hands that nothing could ever erase. There was nothing I could do except seek forgiveness from the Warchief and pray he would except me and my newly released people into his ranks. Entering Org I was spat upon and had food thrown at me, but still I walked as proudly as I could, kneeled before Thrall and asked for forgiveness. It was granted. I pledged my devotion to him and headed towards the black gate, for in Outlands was where I could do the most good.
I stepped through the gate with hopes of a salvation, to cleanse myself of my wrongs. To find my cousin who had passed this way before me, to clear the road for my brother who will soon follow. I am not proud of my past, but I shall be proud of who I will become. I am Uzumati and I am a Knight of Ebon Blade.