Take the Warlock back to Silvermoon City. On that dark path, I found the original trainer. Wandering downstairs, I knew that warlocks were not welcome, and that imps and demons were all hiding in the basement. Pick a weapon that comes handy, Argus' Apostle, Dog Staff, Magister's Torrent, Golden Staff... I seem to have stolen a lot of weapons from Druid back then. Place them in an open place, the former enchantment glows faintly, and the yellow gems no longer shine. Put on the ugliest outfit...yes, the ugliest Warlock Suit T6, all red and with horns, look in the mirror, it's really ugly. I still have many memories, including the expedition to the North Pole, the fight against the Titans, the crusade against the Lich King, chatting with Twilight, and sleeping on my older cousin's back. He has planted fields, swept away evil spirits, raced with mantids, and run alongside Gamorr. He has experienced too much, slaughtered cities, led teams, worked as an undercover agent, and used mounts. I even have my fortress, my castle, my port and my outpost. Gradually, I feel less like a foot man and more like a commander...