The greatest series of humbling gut punches any major lore character has ever received from the writers is the humiliating narrative forced on poor Bolvar Fordragon.
He only wanted to be a hero of the Alliance. He gave his all to this end.
He was burned by the dragons’ fire and hideously deformed into a blackened, eternally smoldering husk.
He was relentlessly tortured by the Lich King and helplessly strung up in chains, full spread eagled over Arthas’s throne in degrading fashion to be gawked at.
When he was eventually rescued, that’s how he was found.
Having zero belief that life could ever offer him any comfort again, he convinced Tirion to place the Lich King’s helm upon his head, cementing his fate to exist in that place forever as lord of the scourge to keep them in check.
Then, one seemingly random day, without so much as a text of forewarning to expect a visit from her (how rude), Sylbarfas Windfarter drops in for tea and proceeds to absolutely, unceremoniously, unequivocally roflstomp Bolvar in the ever lovin’ ground without so much as a single bead of sweat.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Bolvar discovered she didn’t even want his precious power, as was his suspicion. It meant nothing to her. She literally ripped the helm off his head and destroyed it right in front of his astonished face.
So much for his last grand sacrifice.
After licking his wounds a bit, Bolvar appears in Korthia offering a quest… for the player to go kill Sylbarfas – since, you know, he couldn’t… and that failure is the singular reason any of us had to come to SL in the first place.
This character has suffered.