World of Warcraft®

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

I was beginning my commissions, when I heard Kel'tira's voice over the guildstone. We met and talked out on a hill, surrounded by this land. I trust Kel'tira with my heart and life, and opened up to her concerning my love for Karamia. And now I fear for my beloved. Fingers seem to point to Viragona still being alive, and possibly behind our nightmares. If this is so, my Karamia will be her first target, there in lies the danger.

My impulse is to go to her, to protect her, and yet, as Kel said, Karamia is fully capable of taking care of herself. My thoughts race, as I know she was also captured by this demoness, and tortured, with nightmares still prevailing from that encounter. I feel helpless. For this same Viragona may have been instrumental in the death of Tyrael!

I said as much to Kel, I am out of my league with this type of foe. And she chided me to have faith in my skills and my abilities. And this may not be what Karamia needs, she will need my friendship, and desire to aid her more than my blades. She may need me to be beside her to console her, and hold her.

I swear by the Light if she so much as harms or touches my Karamia again, there will be no place that will hide her. I will find her, I will turn over every rock she crawls under, and I will...will...make sure she never, ever will do it to anyone again. Light cleanse me, this is not the way I should be thinking...proactive, not reactive. Still I swear this oath, and Light bind me to it if necessary. She must not continue her evil ways, she cannot continue her evil desires, and she will not if I have anything to say about it.

I need to release this negative energy, to expell it. So, I do this for you, Kel'tira. I have slain over two dozen of the variety of large spiders that infest this area. I see only a shadow of a woman I have never met before me as I engage each of the arachnids, she falls before my blades and talents, as each of the eight-legged creatures dies. My energy spent, I go to sleep exhausted.

It was dark. The twisted landscape of my insubstantial surroundings was vaporous and surreal. I crept though it searching carefully, seeking my target. There. I move silently and stand before her, my blades at the ready. She looks up at me, a smile that fades rapidly as my blades begin to move. "Cyaer?"

The blades do their work, the sword slashing across her throat, and the dagger thrust deep in her abdomen. Her eyes open surprised at the sudden pain, then close as she falls to the ground.

I blink, the area is crystal clear, I stand in the Hall of Respite, and I look down at my beloved's body laying in a pool of her own blood. I sink to my knees and lift her close to my chest. No, no, please, no, NOOOOO!!!!!!!

I awake again in a cold sweat, this time there are tears in my eyes. I sob into my hands, as the nightmare fades from my mind, yet I remember it was I who slew her. I murdered my beloved Karamia. Karamia!!!!

I waken yelling her name! The nightmare still continues...

Day 5, month of Haze

The heat of summer makes lazy warped visions as I gaze across the desert. The two humans have only been dead for two hours. Their fight lasted for three...odd how the relationship between them went from romantic to deadly and it was only my mind visions sent into their unconcious thoughts as they slept. The vultures float in the thermals and wait for me to leave. I have been experimenting with this book and I have created an orb. A shadow gem set into a truesilver setting, it looks fairly harmless. I set it in my pack and go back to the cave.

My minions prepare a feast for me. I am only awaiting the proper time to complete my ritual. There are still those whose lives I have not touched. But the dreams have begun touching them as well. Gazing on the shadow gem and sending my thoughts into it as it sits on the guild stone seems to be working. I can hear their pathetic voices and I relish their confusion.

Tyrael is dead, the demons had a fine time tormenting him and he put up a good fight. But in the end, my vengeance has only just begun. Now to turn my gaze on others...ah that lovely pair...Nicias and Kel'Tira...such a happy couple they seem to be. She thinks to lead the Fellowship now that Tyrael is gone. Nic is a fine warrior...perhaps I should capture him and have fun with him before I send him back to his loving wife and watch from afar as she slays them all for me?

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

I reach within my shirt, and pull out my journal. From within it, I withdraw the small folded sheet of paper Kel'tira had given to me outside of Tarren Mill. I gaze upon the sketch she had made of my Karamia. She had captured her beauty and personality well. My hand reaches out to stroke her cheek, and the tears begin to fall and splatter upon the page. I cannot be her murderer. She is my soulmate, she is my everything. Light protect her, and help me.

I will not fall for this witch's tricks. I am my own, not someone else's puppet!

Fel, I need her. Her touch and her embrace to calm me. How big a fool I have been, why did I not see it before...I need her to love me back.

Oh, Cyaer, I told you long ago to let it go, and look where you have brought yourself. Yes, I see where it has brought me - from loneliness to friends that care, and from a lone wolf, to a member of the Rising Sun Fellowship. For the better, my friend, and don't you ever forget it.

I smile to myself...I wonder if I might see Karamia soon. It would do my heart good, maybe even hers too.

The journal cover is damp leather from the snow, The writing seems to have been written with a shakey hand.
Blast this cold! I freeze my !@# off out here in this cursed land! The fighting never ends. The undead never stop. As a knight and champion of my people, it is my duty to fight and protect them! Yet, every day our numbers dwindle. Fresh recruits come in, but they are un prepared. I along with the seargant and two other veterans are all that remain of the original force of 5000. our total is now down to half that, mostly fresh recruits. As our numbers dwindle, the undead numbers increase.

In the small skirmish today, I was leading ten fresh recruits on a quick patrol. All proud and young blood elves. Yet foolish, oh so foolish. As we were ambushed one of them broke the from the group and charged in recklessley. Another tried to follow but I held him back. I would not let two men run to thier deaths, better if it just one. He was cut down into pieces within seconds. I scowled at the harsh man I was becoming. In my earlier years I would have ran to protect him, but this harsh battlefield has taught me much.

As the undead came in, outnumbering us two to one, we held our ground. One of the freshest requits, still a young elf, began to cower in fear as one of the larger creatures, things!, came up to strike him down. I charged the beast. I barely managed to dodge its massive blows at the giant scarab beetle creature attacked again and again. I managed to finaly fell the beast. As I turned back to the young elf, I saw him there, his cold lifeless stare in the snow looking back at me. I had grown to distracted in my own fight that I left
the others to themselves, a foolish move. Only two out of the ten recruits yet lived. I called them to my side, and they gladley listened. It was now ten on three. The surrounded us. I tightened my grip on my sword and licked my lips in anticipation. I charged first, I would not be attacked from all sides and put at a total disadvantage. I charged the closest undead, cleaving him in two. I turned to face another. I ran at him then, my rage fueling me. I cared not at that moment whether I live or died, I had entered a completely
berserk rage.

I ran the thing through. It squirmed on the end of my blade, but a strong swing and it was off. I turned to see how the other two were doing. On was still alive, the other was being...devoured. I ran to the last recruit, I would bring back one at least! I rushed to him and tripped. The corpse of a fresh recruit lay there in the snow, his expression on his face not only showed fear, but asked, "Why." I ignored it and rushed on. As one of the fel creatures neared the recruits rear I swung my massive sword. It took out the creatures legs,

leaving an easy kill. The recruit turned and finished the beast without hesitation. It looked like I would bring one back, Looked that way. We had eventually killed all but two. The two giant beetle like creatures charged us both separately. We were both engaged in single combat. I unleashed my rage then. I swung my blade with hatred, hatred of the beast, hatred of this place, hatred of the death, but most of all, hatred for not being able to see my beloved! My mighty swings proved too much for the creature as it tried to block but was forced back.

I saw this moment and when it blocked I pulled out my smaller one handed sword and rolled under its claws. I stabbed with all my force into its exposed husk. It let out a strange gurgling noise as purple blood spewed everywhere. I thrust the creature aside quickly and looked over at my last comrade. He had been knocked on the ground and severely injured. He was not mortally wounded, but with a broken right arm, he could hardly fight. I picked um my large two handed sword and charged. The best brought his massive claw down faster than I anticipated. I would not make it in time to
fully block it! 1/2

I quickly shifted the sword to my left hand and sprinted as fast as I could. The creature's claw came down with massive force. I managed to get between him and the recruit, I thought it was enough, but I did not have enough time to position myself correctly. The claw broke through my feeble defense. The massive force shattered my sword, causing shrapnel to fly everywhere. One of the pieces sliced open my left hand, but that was the least of my concerns. The claw did not stop there but went through. That sharp thing hit my abdoman on the side and still kept going. It took about 6 inces out of my side and cause a large portion
of me to be missing. I looked as if I was shot by a canon ball. I heard a blood curdling cry and as I turned the claw had gone through the complete middle of the recruits abdomen. the creature twisted its claw then. I quickly moved away before i took more injury, but I watched as the recruit screamed in pain. I watched the snow turn red, it reminded me of the red leaves before winter. the ground was all red, like how the leaves covered the whole gorund. I picked up my broken sword then in my right hand. I was not going to die, not here, not NOW! With every ounce of my being, I charged. the creature was still pulling its claw out of
its lifeless pray as Istabbed it again and again with the broken blade. It roared, but I did not let up. After what seemed like a century , it stopped. i pulled my purple blade out and with the last of my great strength pushed the carcass to the side. I fell to my knees then. Blood poured out of me too fast. I felt tired
The ground looked so soft. I quickly took a small health potion and drank it. It helped the bleeding, but I was still bleeding out. I coughed, and I could taste that metaly taste of blood in my mouth. I collapsed then and there.
I Opened my eyes and I was in a Tavern. My wounds were gone and i felt great. I walked up to the barkeeper and took a seat. I ordered a cup of mead. As he handed me the frothy brew I looked over and saw the man sitting next to me. He was a tough looking elf, a familiar face in which I had not seen in a long while.
"Tyrael?!" I stammered. The elf turned to me and smiled, a mug of ale in his hand. I was speechless. Was I dead...
"Fancy meetin ya here Nicias! Wern't you not so good with holdin' your liquor?" He said. I nodded and turned back to my mug. I looked inside and saw my reflection. I thought for what seemed like days, but when I looked up everything seemed the same. Tyreal still sat there, looking at me. I asked him "Am I dead?" He simply laughed at my statement. "Nicias, do me a favor." He said with a rather sad face. I looked at him confused. He finished his ale and belched rather loudly. Tyrael looked back at me then, his face serious.
"Nicias. Spend more time with the one you love." I washed shocked by thsoe words. He continued, "You never know when the last time they will see you will be, so see them often as you can, got it? That is an order." He sounded stern. I chuckled a little, he was still the same, bossy as usual. I saluted him and walked out of that tavarn.
I awoke in a cot in camp then. I was in so much pain then. I coughed and could still taste blood. I lifted up my shirt and saw that the healers had tended me. I laid back down in my cot. I could not get what Tyrael told me out of my head. "Kell..." I whispered. That whole night I could not stop thinking about my wife. How much I loved her, how much I wanted to embrace her, and how much I wanted to tell her that I love her. Eventually the fatigue caught up to me and I passed out, MY dreams were of happy times, and I slept soundly.
2/2

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

My commissions were profitable today, and I had gathered bundles of herbs and ores. Truely, I was happy with myself, and my heart was light. I decided to make the trek to Silvermoon City, instead of stopping in Undercity. And am I ever glad I did!

My business took me to several places within the city, but it was while I was on my way to the bank that my day became better and brighter, I ran into Karamia.

We chatted for several minutes, then she asked about the nightmares that haunted me. She was looking for a pattern, and it took all my control to tell her the dream. She listened, but I also think she understood my heartache in telling her. She touched my cheek with her hand, and it helped to calm me. (Touch me, Karamia, heal my soul with your touch. I need that.)

Then she suggested that we spar, to show that she was fully capable of defending herself, and to alleviate some of my concerns for her safety. At first, I was shocked. Did she not hear my dream? Had she not listened? I was afraid that even pulling my blades on her would take away my control and I would become a machine, slashing and stabbing my way to her heart. It was with some trepidation that I accepted her "challenge".

It was more fun than I expected. She tagged me several times, nothing serious, but I was able to slip under her defense and tap her on the noggin. I watched as she worked out on one of the training dummies. Her body became a weapon, as she smashed it with her mace, and the flash of spells enhanced her attacks and defense. There was beauty in her moves, and I found myself admiring her style of fighting.

Then, we heard the feeble voice of Nicias on the stone. He was critically injured, and being moved to the infirmary here in the city. Kel'tira had come to see us spar, and I watched the affect this news had upon her. She is a strong woman, and I truely repect her, but the news hit her hard. We rushed to the infirmary, and while I am no healer by any means, I could see that it was bad...really bad.

Something had taken a bite out of his side, and he was coughing blood. Then Karamia began casting spells to aid the physicians and the surgeons that were there to work on Nic. It was hard to turn away as the surgeons did their work, and as I watched Karamia work her healing magic. In the long run, Nic pulled through it all like a trooper, and Kel stayed with him, concern and relief etched in her face.

1 of 2

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages... page 2 of 2

I walked out of the infirmary with Karamia, and she said it was difficult for her to stay. She felt that if somehow she had been able to reach Tyrael in time, he would still be with us. I was torn by her words - his death was still fresh in her mind, and she had loved him, so it was easy to understand where she was coming from. Still, I was stung by her words. Then, she surprised me and asked me to dinner!

I walked into the Silvermoon City Inn, dressed to the nines, and searching the room for Karamia. When I saw her, my jaw must have hit the floor. She was stunning! And I fell in love with her all over again...in the space of five seconds. We talked well into the evening, some of it small talk, some of it about our friends, others about the Fellowship. I was captivated by her smile, and I realized that her voice was a melody as she spoke our native tongue. It was a very nice evening with the woman I loved.

She told me that she knew I had strong feelings for her, and she wanted to go slowly. She thought I idolized her, and she was just another paladin of the Light. As I said: we talked, sipped wine, and talked some more. When she had to leave, I told her I never wanted this evening to end. She smiled, and we left together, then she went her way, and I went mine.

I do not believe my feet touched the ground until I climbed onto a bat in Undercity. As I flew back to Tarren Mill, I replayed the evening over and over. Remembering the nuances of her smile, her laughter, and her eyes. Oh, my...her eyes, they stole my heart forever and I could stare and get lost in them all night. I was a gentleman, she was a lady...and for a little while, the world stood still for us as we got to know each other a wee bit more.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging bears the dark stains of blood, and a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

I wrote her a letter thanking her for the pleasant evening. And assured her that we would take our time in our relationship.

As I meditate, my thoughts turn to her. Do I truely idolize her as she says? Have I placed my Karamia on some sort of a pedestal? My mind says no, that I see her for who she is, and what she is. But my heart says yes, she is almost unattainable, near perfect.

I must compromise my mind and my heart into one. Stop glorifying her simple gestures and nature. Enjoy the time I spend with her, and getting to know her. Tone it down as it were. Just be Cyaer and Karamia, two people building a relationship of trust and friendship.

I cannot. For as long as my heart beats in my chest I will love Karamia. There is no pedestal, there only is Karamia. I am attracted to that person who is Karamia, and everything that entails. The good and the bad. I see it all, and want to be with her.

How is it bad that I see the world as a better place with her in it? That the day is brighter because I have seen her face or smile? Or that my step is livelier? The love I have for Karamia is extraordinary, it inspires me to improve myself, to grow as a man, and to be a better man. How is that a bad thing?

Journal of Karamia Dawnstrike

The soft touch of Percy under my hand as I stroke his pale fur comforts me. This gift I have been given will help me in the coming days. I must lift my soul out of the depths of despair and rise to the challenges the Fellowship faces.

Kel'Tira is beside herself with worry over Nicias. Varus is preoccupied with his own troubles. I have no clue where Aranthil has gone. Wyndsong is helping when she can. Her aid to Cyaer has given me hope for the future. If we can but weather these storms together...we can do this...we can be strong.

(a blot of something is on the paper where the ink was smudged)

The absense of some of our members worries me. Where is the strength we had in the beginning? Light give me hope...lift this despair and shine in our lives. We have new members, give them courage to learn from the mistakes of others and live the dream we have for our Fellowship.

We cannot do these things alone. A Fellowship is comprised of many, working together. Honor, Loyalty, Valor, Compassion. For each one of us is a part of a whole. Together we are more than one, we are a force to be considered.

(Many days later)

Today I made a startling discovery. Inspite of the dreams that seem to be sent to torment us, we are fighting them off. Nic is not affected, somehow his mind is not being touched. But Cyaer told me of his dreams. I had hoped that Sydric was right and we are just under too much stress. But Cyaer seemed to have been programmed to strike at me when I was vulnerable.

In the evening while we sat and talked, he seemed to passout form some wine he was drinking. His words were slurred and he suddenly jumped up in panic and ran away, yelling at me to stay away from him. Aseria was with us and she and I gave chase. Cyaer ran all the way to Undercity from Silvermoon. He was hiding in the corner of the ruins and she found him. Together we were able to subdue him and Aseria removed the mind control from him. I am hoping it is enough to remove it. But as a precaution, I made him an amulet of Trueseeing. It should help to block any further attempts at mind control.

I helped him to the Fellowship Hall and left him sleeping. I sat by his bed for awhile and watched him sleep. As I sat there I realized, his devotion is something special. For the first time in many months. I no longer feel alone. In the morning he may see the mark of my lips on his face. I could not resist giving him that, even though he was nearly passed out from fatigue.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

Karamia...the name holds me enthralled. Karamia...there is no other. Karamia....

As this day grew longer, I found myself drained. Mayhap I have some kind of bug. Fel, being around all the Forsaken's plague machines, perhaps I caught something...

or maybe it's the sleepless nights. I catch catnaps through out the night, until the nightmare returns. I cannot bear to dream it any longer...I will not...I cannot accept seeing her like that...at my hand. I awaken but the tiredness remains.

My commissions are many today, and I move out of Tarren Mill. I hear Kel and Mia on the stone. I speak with them, and then I see it. The monster that has vanquished several of the Rising Sun members in the past. He is huge! I say so over the stone, and both ladies tell me to leave, to be careful, and I keep my distance. However, I soon find my Karamia riding up beside me.

And then, one of my dreams came true, when I fight alongside Karamia against Yetimus. We strike in tandem, and I am tossed like a rag doll through the air. Yet, the two of us bring him down. Karamia must have thought me mad, but all I could do was smile. It was good, this dream being fulfilled. She stayed and helped me clear the yeti cave, then left as I turned in many of my commissions for that area.

I kept on for a few more hours, aiding the orcs and Forsaken in Tarrin Mill. Then moved on to a few more quests that the Forsaken saw fit to give me.

I felt tired and washed out, so went I to Silvermoon to rest, and recuperate. And lo, I met up with Karamia again. It was my lucky day, twice in one day! We decided to relax in the Silvermoon inn, as we had done the night before.

I picked up a glass of wine, and we talked. We are growing closer, I can feel it, she opened up to me concerning Tyrael, and I felt her pain. Then, I felt very disoriented, and light-headed. I had barely set my empty glass down when I blacked out.

When I came to, I was being held by Karamia, and Aseria was looking me over. And I was in the ruined courtyard of Lordaeron. Karamia said I had some sort of seizure. I felt weak, very weak, like my muscles were made of water. We ported to Silvermoon, and Karamia took my hand and walked me to the Hall. I drew strength from her holding my hand. But it took all of my concentration to get there.

As soon as I found a place among the pillows on the floor, I fell in a heap. I tried to talk to Karamia, but I could not keep my eyes open, I yielded to the blackness of sleep. My sleep was deep, I don't remember any dreams or nightmares at all, only a deep restful sleep such as I have not had for some time.

I awoke refreshed, but somewhat stiff from sleeping on the floor. I stretched, yawned, and tried to wet my lips from a severe case of dry mouth (Do I snore, I wonder?). And I found something that I was not expecting...there was a subtle taste there. I wiped my lips with my sleeve, and found a trace of lipstick...???...Mia...???

The once-white cover is now black, and wear and tear of has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark. The entire tome smells of sea-salt and a soft, lilac perfume.

Kel'tira Sunblaze

(Tears-stains cover the best part of this entry)

I let him go out on his own, I let him work alone, I let him out of my sight. One Light-damned mistake and he ends up looking like something took a damned bite out of him! Oh Nic... What the Fel am I supposed to do? And now he blames himself for losing the fresh-blood patrol he was leading. He says he is not fit for leadership.

The damned bastard.

I was so scared... Seeing him lying there...

Every passing day I grow more afraid of what I could do. What could happen.

In my mind, I think I have already convinced myself that Viragona is behind my dreams. Behind this feeling of general terror that hangs over me. If it is her, I can blame her, and take actions against her. If not, they are just nightmares and I have no one but myself to blame for the things I see now whenever I close my eyes.

I love him so much, but it is like opposing forces struggling. I want only to be with him, as close as I can, but at the same time, something within me...

All I want is him. All I want is to be with him. All I want is to feel him beside me. I do not want to worry, I do not want to spend sleepless nights worrying. I want to be by him. With him. Near him. Touching him.

When he-- I was so scared. Last night... Light... When confronted with the idea that I might never see him again...

The healers threw me out this morning, they decided we were being too... Involved... That was their word. I disagree. Can they blame either of us for being grateful that we still have one another? One of my father's friends in particular called me out, telling me that he expected better from the Lady of the House.

I refused to leave, so they threw me out. One of the younger healers telling me he admired my determination.

I think stubbornness is the word.

I do not know what to do... I do not know what to think... I want to kiss my husband again. I want to touch him, hold him close to me, and know he is okay. I could not live with myself if I played a roll in Nic's death. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I want him. Need him. That much is clear to me. I have set so much aside in my life, and I fear my love-life is one such thing. I cannot let him slip away from me... I need him too much for that.

I will not let Viragona's dreams, if they are that, come between me and my lover. My husband. I will not let her control me. I am my own person.

I am Kel'tira Sunblaze.

Crisp parchment bound by a freshly crafted leather cover died yellow and red, the scroll work not yet finished but is recognizable as a rising sun.

My fist entry in my new journal, where to start....It seems like forever since I last saw or even spoke with anyone from the Fellowship. Having had most of my belongings stolen while I was ill has made that quite a difficult task. I am feeling much better now, it would seem that what ever came over me while I was in Hillsbrad has cleared away thankfully. Although I don't quite feel the same as before, it's as though something still lingers within me. I must find my way back to Silvermoon and let the Fellowship know I'm alright.

On to another subject.. Since regaining my strength I have again taken more work from those that offer it. I have seen some of Azeroth's evil and put much of them in the ground for good, with a few new scars to show for it. I also tamed a new companion to hunt with me, unfortunately I haven't quite figured out what to name him just yet. It's time I rest and plan a trip back to the Fellowship.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging browned from dried blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

What can I say, my heart and mind are overwhelmed. I was talking with Karamia, we were close, and I looked into her eyes, and saw her lips, and I leaned down to kiss her. It was tender, it was sweet, and most of all it was Karamia. We kissed and kissed again, I did not want to leave her, yet we parted for the night.

Am I rushing into this too soon? I need to slow down...however her hand was on my chest, she could feel my heart beating as I kissed her lips so gently...I was caught up in the moment. Her lips were sweet and soft, and I can still feel them against my own.

We came together later the next evening, we had been talking with Kel. Between Karamia and Lilli, they may have cured her of the dreams/nightmares. Then Kel was off to hopefully see Nic in the infirmary.

We kissed again, and again, she nibbled at my lips, and teased me with her tongue, and my desire for her was increasing...but it wasn't right...we held each other close. And I finally said I must go....we knew the timing wasn't right...that it would come eventually, and I kissed her good night.

Karamia, I care for you so much. I enjoy having you in my arms, close enough to feel your heart beat with mine, and kissing you...and tasting your lips...I love you. And hearing you say the same thing, it gave my heart wings!

The text is written in a weak and shaky hand

I am weak. As I lay here, recovering from my wound, it is all I can think of. My thoughts race constantly. What if I had been stronger? What if I was not weak?! Could I have saved that patrol? I try to get up and walk, but I am forced back down from exhaustion minutes later. I am weak. I try to stay awake, but the tiredness grips me and will not let me stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. I am weak. I know what it is I must do. I will go out and seek power! I will become stronger! My wife constantly worries about my safety! When does the woman worry about the man! It makes me sick of myself! I am weak, and I must become strong!

When I am better I will go off to train and grow strong. Perhaps Aranthil will train me. He is a Paladin of much skill in battle and more than once I have seen how powerful he is. He resides in Hearthglenn still, "atoning" and what not.

I have told no one of my plans, and probably will not. I will not worry my wife with my weakness any longer. I will be strong, for HER!

(a day later)

The healer says there is some sort of infection, that it is like they never seen before. Bah! They say it may be affecting my mind. They know nothing. They are just trying to hold me back! Keep me weak! I will recover from this wound shortly! and when I do I WILL BE STRONG!

The once-white cover is now black, and wear and tear of has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark. The entire tome smells of sea-salt and a soft, lilac perfume.


Kel'tira Sunblaze

Mia gave me a pendant to help with the dreams... And it has. Some. I slept most of last night, except for one dream, which I will not relate here. It was... terrible.

I will leave it at that. The healers threw me out again today.

I do not want to write.

I am afraid to sleep.

The pages that this is written on seems rather, except for a few droplets of blood that litter it here and there.

Myro'Endis Darkwhisperer

So I have finally started the habit of writing one of these things...Rather odd, but mundane, thing to do. Could be my paranoia speaking, but this just seems like something that can be used against others...And even though I am not a 'part' of this...Fellowship, I might as well give this a try...just better be sure to keep this away from Tartep, the little trickster of an imp.

So I have meet the Fellowship today during one of their meetings. And odd assortment of Sin'dorei...and I say them taking a liking to me would be...the opposite of the truth. They don't trust me...at all...they are wary of me...afraid of me...but at least they are willing to cooperate and...accept me, which is progress, I assume.

It might help that I had saved one of their own's life as long as the rest of theirs. A dainty little girl they call 'Kally'. The little runt had some kind of demonic spell in her mind...one that turned her into a living bug. Recorded her hearing and seeing of anything that she was a part of since its planting. And then, after she lived her usefulness, the spell would terminate its host to hide any trace. Most clever...

But, I was able to terminate it...stopped it from its purpose of killing the girl, but I don't know if any information had escaped before it was done. Most curious...

Though, now most of them know what I am...and the Death Knight that was there does not trust me. She is wise to do so, but it is of no consequence to me. Entertaining, but not of any consequence or worry.

At least their leader, Kel'tira, is able to make deals. Apparently we'll be discussing a transaction of my services to find this...Viragona, who could of possibly endangered the Kally girl, in exchange for a future favor to me...Come time, she'll accept my price. Maybe these people can help me cure my...affliction...one that I have been dealing with for so long...so very, very long...

I must go now...these Viragona has me curious...I must do some research into the matter...

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging browned from dried blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

The past few nights have been miraculous, I sleep restfully, and awake refreshed. It feels good to feel rested again. No nightmares...though the dreams have been wonderful. I think of her all day long, and she visits me in my dreams. Karamia, my love, your lips haunt me, and I hunger for more. To embrace you again, to smell your hair...

I have left the Arathi Highlands, and find myself working with the Revantusk trolls in the Hinterlands. I like their style and music. Their drums play in my dreams, and I find them primal and relaxing at the same time. I look forward to aiding them...it may seem biased, but working for the Forsaken...well, I prefer living employers...not undead bosses. ("I am Forsaken.", yes, you are pal.)

I needed to drop off my heavily laden bags, and so I flew to Silvermoon City. (Just on the off chance of running into Karamia.) I spent several hours sorting through all the crap I had accumulated, placing some in the guild bank, and unloading some in the Auction House.

The bath and putting on fresh armor felt good, and I felt very refreshed. I headed to the Hall for our weekly Fellowship meeting. I was somewhat disappointed that Karamia would not be there, but settled in.

Met a possible candidate for the guild...a Myros Deathwhisperer, I think. A mage of some sort...why mages...I don't trust them. I have had my share of run-ins with them in my travels, and I find the only good mage is a dead one. Hit them hard, and kill them before they can get off one of their damnable spells, is my thinking. But I digress...

Myros...rubs me the wrong way...he creeps me out. There is just something about him that makes me uncomfortable. And he seems so ill! He kept coughing up blood all evening., but he said it was alright, it was a symptom of his condition. Fel, he bugs me. Reminder to self: send him bill to remove blood from divan!

But give the devil his due, he was able to aid Kally tonight. Though it left Kalrei weak and tired, he had taken something out of her that was tainted. It left him weaker too. This in my book, impressed me more than anything else. I may not trust him fully, but I acknowledge he helped a Fellowship member, and he has my respect, if nothing else.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging browned from dried blood, a small sheet of paper is folded and tucked within it's pages...

My morning started well with a change. My meditations gave way to a rousing work out at the training dummies in Silvermoon City. I removed my armor, and shirt - even my boots. I began slowly, standing away from the figure in front of me. I maintained my balance on the balls of my feet, swaying before it, with my hammer and dagger at the ready.

And I saw my enemy, a shadow of a woman in robes, Viragona. My hammer struck once, twice, again and again, the dagger stabbing her twice. I dip low as a bolt of fel energy flashes over my shoulder, and I tuck and roll to stand behind her. My hammer blasts her hard with a critical wound, the dagger slides across her shoulders, the poison slipping into her system to slow her spellcasting. I smile as I spin around to face her, and barely dodge the dark spell she casts. I get grim, and slam my hammer against her staff, and the dagger sinking into her shoulder. Over and over, my hammer pounds against her body, as the dagger slashes and stabs her. I do this for an hour, imagining my opponent, and I moving together in a dance of death.

My work out felt good...a light sheen of sweat covers my torso, and I move a stray strand of hair out of my face. I pant a moment, catching my breath, and turn to gather my things, when I hear it. The slow clapping of hands, I spin to meet whomever it might be, "Bravo, Cy, you do well in your training, I see. Impressive!" Az? Az!

It was good to see my old friend, and as I dressed, he told me some of the travels and journeys he had been on. Then I invited him to breakfast at the Wayfarer's Inn.

We spent some time in conversation, and he was genuinely surprised to hear about my affiliation with The Rising Sun Fellowship. He told me he always figured me as a loner, and always would be. When I told him of Karamia, he laughed. So the lone wolf has found a pack, and a mate, eh? People change, Az. And this elf has found a home and friends here. As for a mate, that is yet to be determined, but maybe. (May the Light find it so.)

We departed the inn, and he left for the Ghostlands, while I left for the Hinterlands. It was good to talk to him. And it was good to realize where I had come from to where I was now.

Journal of Karamia Dawnstrike

My head pounds, the ache from loss of sleep and stress makes it difficult if not impossible to think clearly. Though I had taken some herbals and Syd did what he could, a few hours of uninterrupted sleep did help. I missed the meeting by a few hours, I was able to greet new members of the Fellowship. I am happy to see new faces.

I walk into the meeting to find Kalrei unconcious on the divan, with Cyaer hovering over her. It is disconcerting to say the least. I am confused by this Myro Endis, is he mage or warlock? The fel taint is strong and I suspect he is very familiar with demonic forces. What he did to Kalrei was nothing short of a miracle.

Talking with Kalrei I am reminded once again of the loss of Tyrael. She has been gone long enough she did not know he was dead. I try and control my emotions and fail miserably. If not for the strength of Cyaer I would not have been able to stand there to explain to Kally that Tyrael died a warriors honorable death. And that Kel'tira leads us now.

Later in the evening I go to eat some dinner with Cyaer and hear him setting up a tab for Kalrei. It disturbs me he thinks he has to do this. Is there something between them or is it my imagination? I am no doubt over reacting. Memories of Tyrael spending more time with Wyndsong and the rest of the Fellowship and leaving me alone to face Vira...my utter failure to protect myself and Aranthil. All these things leave me reeling in confusion.

In desparation I throw myself into the work available. Though it takes me to Northrend and battling the remnants of Arthas's Scourge. I fight and become stronger, I must settle my heart and return to my senses before I allow another to fall. The mysteries of the many races and wildlife in Northrend intrigue me and take my mind off of the cauldron of emotions in SIlvermoon. Perhaps I should stay here until I can walk into the city without feeling guilty.

Let Cyaer fall for the sweet young Kalrei, he is closer to her in age. He will forget about me in time. His feelings for me border on hero worship...oh Cyaer...I am no hero...the pedestal you put me on scares the heck out of me. I am mortal...I am not perfect...I have needs and desires...I am not invulnerable. I need to be myself and not some goddess you worship...

I need something I cannot ask of you, Cyaer. I will find it in the city of heroes and vagabonds, Dalaran. It does not take more than a smile and the battle hardened veterans ply me with drink and gifts, hoping to entice me to the rooms upstairs. My needs are met and we all move on. Battle makes us all hard and callous, love is not part of the equation.

Silvermoon is a distant memory as I fight alongside the seasoned veterans and learn how to be strong and fearless. When next I see them, my friends will not know me...I have become harder and stronger. The Fellowship will need me to be strong, fighting Vira will take all of us to be hard.

(Tears stain the pages.)