World of Warcraft®

(Ikthael)

Shame I wasnt able to complete that hit, could of used the extra cash for last nights meeting.
But anyway ill just list a few supplies ill need to get for later for my next 'job'

20-feet of medium to strong strength rope
10 throwing daggers or 15 sharp arrows. depending on what im feeling like that day
5 vials of intstant poison
3 vials of crippling poison
3 vials of mind numbing poison
A goblin gentlemens magazine, not for my use of course... If i want women ill get the real thing!
3 smoke pellets
2 kingsblood cigars (the good stuff!)
4 bottles of eversong wine (1 for him, 3 for me!)
1 blindfold

Hopefully i dont lose this list, I think this is all ill need but...who knows, goblins can be tricky!

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Silvermoon City

Al diel shala anar'alah belore.

From Light's Hope, to Fuselight. From Fuselight to New Kargath. From New Kargath to Orgrimmar. From Orgrimmar to the Thorium Brotherhood. From the Thorium Brotherhood to Orgrimmar. From Orgrimmar to Fuselight. From Fuselight to Silvermoon...

Vendel'o eranu...

I went from Light's Hope, Eastern Plaguelands, to Fuselight-by-the-Sea, Badlands, by rocket. The former smelled of rot and plague, the latter was full of exploding sheep. Sheep! From there, I went to Fuselight proper, where I spent a great deal of time shoving goats off of cliffs, and disposing of ogres. The Reliquary. The worldbreaker's scar. New Kargath. The land there is deadened. Black dragons and ogres. Carrion birds and large cats run rampant.

Tyrael and I had a...disagreement. When I returned to Orgrimmar with the intentions of spending time with Nicias, I had no choice but to speak with him. Something I was not looking forward to. If I wished to reignite his anger, I might mention to him that the issue was resolved with words. Likely he would only laugh and ridicule me. Something I wish to avoid.

Nic... I worry about him so much... I cannot help it, Outland is dangerous, and I know well enough how much harm can come from a simple mistake. Our time together is precious. One day, we will have all the time in the world, but for now, it feels as if we live on stolen moments.

Time slips by, and it never comes back. I cannot understand how the shorter-lived races can live lives such as they do. I have more time, have had more time, and still... Still it seems like it is not enough. I do not want to die. I used to... I have come so close to death, both by my own hand, and by other means, but it is only recently that I realized I have more to gain by living than I do by dying.

Once death would have been its own form of release. The pain was too much, and I could feel myself slipping deeper into hopelessness. I have another reason to live, now. A reason far greater than just myself. Nic... The Fellowship... All of it. I stand to gain, and gain I shall.

He saw me drinking, and, unfortunately, drunk, as well. I am trying to stop... I know it is bad for me, but something is to be said for the release drink offers. Forgetting... Most do not understand. For that matter, I am not sure Nic did, either. I will not hold it against him.

He is to have this journal when I am gone.

I have only three words for the Searing Gorge. The place is miserable:

Fire.

Dwarves.

Spiders.

Back in Orgrimmar, I met with Wyndd, Traly's sister. Tyrael has asked me to preside over both Traly's funeral and Wyndd and Varus's wedding. Something is not quite right with Tyrael, if you ask me. He... I do not know. He seems distant. It came as a great surprise to hear that Traly and he we lovers! What other surprises does the Firehawk family hold?

Wyndd and I were interrupted by a Goblin on Mia's guildstone... She was hurt, badly. We raced off, Wyndd, Tyrael, Nic, and I from different places, to Fuselight. My heartstone was calibrated to the Searing Gorge, and I arrived at Fuselight first, finding Mia on the ground in the inn, unconscious. Nothing helped... I could do nothing by sit and wait with her until Nic and the others arrived.

Being helpless is hard.

As we prepared to load her onto a wyvern for the long flight to Silvermoon, the damned death knight showed his face.

I have never been so scared in my life.

Vendel'o eranu...

(A sketch of Tai is on the bottom half of the page, between the next two pages is a small stack of parchments. They read as follows.)

My dearest Nicias...

If you are reading this, then I am gone, and you have likely read what I have written... Know that I love you, that I treasured you above most all else.

Who else has died since I wrote this? How many have fallen prey to the harsh realities that fill our lives? The sun shines now, as I write, and I cannot help but think of you. How many days have past, since you saw me last? I am not truly gone, for you will carry me in your heart, always. I know this. I have faith in your strength. You cannot wallow, dearest. You have to be strong. If not for yourself, than for the others.

If I could see your face... If I could comfort you... If I could stroke your cheek... If words on a page, even my own, would offer solace to you...

As I write, I recall the sweep of your shoulders. The feel of your hair. Your lips against my own. Nicias... Oh Light... You have to be strong. You have to be brave, love.

(A single tear stains the page.)

When I wrote this, I had no intentions of dying any time soon. Traly's death... Kara's death... It is all so sudden. So difficult to comprehend. Why are things like they are? Innocent people. Dead. What is hardest for me, as I write, is to think of you in the future. When will you read this? Days from now? Weeks? Months? Years?

Perhaps we will live long lives, lives long enough to grow old together, and then I will have time for all the words I want to say to you. But I know that is unlikely, given the paths we have chosen.

So now, I guard against leaving you without saying goodbye.

Goodbye, Nicias, my love. I love you, as I always have.

Everlasting love,

Kel

(The rest of the papers are covered in finished drawings of Kel'tira, Nicias, Tyrael, Quill, Wyndd, Karamia, Kara, Ikthael, Kriest'alan, Varus, and Dalen.)

The Rising Sun Fellowship...

Light guide us, guard us.

Tyrael Firehawk

Death. It comes to claim me now... Or so I believe I have been hallucinating all night I think... For a Kaldorei came to see me... Fixed my leg... Spoke of knowing one of my kin. I cannot even figure out how I am writing this right now but I am...

*Splotches of blood cover the parchment the lines seems shaky as Tyrael tries to write*

Somehow death has changed my perspective on life... What have I accomplished? I stood my ground against a Death Knight to save the lives of others... Yet I do not feel anger towards them... It is a strange feeling, as if I have done something right...

But what is right and wrong? Are the others right? Is my pessimism as they call it... Or my realism wrong? Is there hope in this world? I do not know... But for some reason I feel a sense of peace that I have not felt in years...

Is this what the Light feels like? Or am I just hallucinating more? Questions upon questions...

*The ink trails off the page and a large spot of blood grows underneath as if Tyrael fell forward and blood drips from his mouth*

Varus

The Plaguelands are a vile place, I find myself hating the Undead even more and grow exceedingly more interested in the Argent Crusade with each passing day. They are a strong group, bound to the single purpose of eradicating the Undead from Azeroth and healing the wounds they have caused. While I don't enjoy working with the Alliance races they prove their worth on the battlefield and I find I can trust them to have my back.

It is strange to realize that while I resent them for leaving us to the hands of the Scourge I find that their zeal now and intent to repair the damage done mends old wounds, albeit slowly. Here I also find others who have been wounded at the hands of the Death Knights but they tell me what Traly did, it is not good to hold onto anger. Thinking of Traly sends my mind further into a dark hole and I find myself questioning if I made the right decision.

What if Wyndd is lying? She has yet to give me reason to believe she is but how can I not ask that question when she had me kill her sister and asked Tyrael to kill her father! Ah I do not enjoy the position I am in... I wish to have a simple life again one where I am just a Blood Knight trying to avenge my family...

Yet I hear that again that dark monstrosity from my worst nightmares has struck again... Wounding Karamia severely and having run Tyrael to ground... Everyone is worried and I fear the worst. I must grow stronger... I must be able to best that Death Knight and end this once and for all! He will not harm anyone ever again!

*A small sketch of Varus standing over the burning corpse of Tai is shown on the next page along with a drawing of a rising sun*

In the intensive care unit a young nurse patiently bathes Mia in cool water, they try to bring the fever down. Mia is still in a coma and it seems her will to live is being tested. "I do not know how she hangs on, all the healing spells we use on her barely keep her alive...we must call in an expert...someone who has dealt with the plagues and fevers of the death knights...we should make inquiries at Undercity...perhaps an Apothecary can come up with a solution." The head physician orders a courier to Undercity to inquire. They attach intravenus tubes to keep her hydrated. The steady drip feeds into her blood and keeps her from dying...for now.

Mia is lost in a nightmare...in her dream she fights demons and death knights, they chase her from all corners of her dream world. At first she is well armored and brave...her mace shines brilliant and full of the Light. Her shield glows with power, and her spells strike down foe after foe. There is one who stalks her however...a deadly foe who laughs as she struggles to strike him.

She is not strong enough to face him, she runs and hides. The hollow laughter chases her in echoes of doom. She looks down and sees her armor fade away...her will is strong and she fights the demons now without armor. What curse is this? Her armor is gone and she holds a wooden sword. It is dull in color and she cowers in fear...has the Light left her? The shield she carries is now a worn buckler with no magic and a flimsy construction.

Her fear makes her hide..deep in the safety of her dream she looks for a place that is dark and free of taint. It is rocky and hot where she runs now...she burns with every step...lava runs beside the path..the glow of the melted rock lights the cavern in eerie dancing shadows. Sobbing she finds a dark corner and trembles in fear. Not too far away she hears the steady clip clop of a horses hooves, he draws near...and she cannot run further.

Nicias turned the corner hurriedly, constantly looking over his shoulder, seeing if he was followed. He was not. Nicias entered murder row, a very dark and disgusting alley, and saw him leaning against the wall, simply throwing up a dagger, watching it spin then catching it again and repeating the process. The man stopped when he saw Nicias and put away his dagger. He smiled at Nicias.
"Ah brother you are late." He said in a humorous voice.
"Don't you Dare! I am you brother no longer Malt'ar!" Nicias replied angrily
Malt'ar only laughed.
"Well?!" Nicias asked impatiently.

Malt'ar snorted then replied, " I have infiltrated your little fellowship, and will now work on your little problem. Also, I would like that coin back." Malt'ar said, holding out his hand.
"No! Not until it is finished, I want his head, or some other proof! Until then you get nothing, brother." Nicias spat at the last word.
A look of annoyance spread across Malt'ar's face. "Very well." His face then turned into an evil grin, "So I hear you have a nice beautiful lady in your life, why wouldn't you tell your dear old brother such great news?" Malt'ar made a heavily srcastic sad face at the end.
Nicias became filled with anger, "If you so much as talk to her! I will gut you!" Nicias said in a deathly serious tone
Malt'ar laughed, "Fine fine fine, you win, I shall not bother your little friendship."

Malt'ar turned around and began to walk away, "Oh and brother, do not forget our little deal, You may have saved my life, but don't think I'm indebted to you." And with that Malt'ar dissapeared, laughing.

Nicias sighed and slumped against the wall. "What Should I do!?" He said quietly to himself. For the next hour he sat there and pondered, until it occurred to him. Nicias then slowly got up and left. He had preparations to make.

An overly ornate tome with fresh paper and flowing script contains the secret thoughts of An'giel, the last Truesong.

Why are you reading this? This isn't your property. Unhand my journal.

I don't believe you will. Greedy little beast that you are for even picking it up and opening it. I pray you return it to where you found it before I catch you touching it. For, if not, may the Light save you, for it certainly won't stop me.

I have been under the weather of late. Before I even arrived, I was ill from one thing which the greatest of healers cannot conquer: a cold. But, I arrived already knowing of many things.

Whispers and rumors reach me, a quick eye is one thing I may boast about in my time. That, and the astounding ability to produce enough snot to fill the Scar.

I have learned one new thing about myself since beginning this journey and meeting a strange man named Keladryn. I have some connection with the Light, for whatever purpose that may serve. I was sent to the paladin instructor to begin training in such arts, and it leads me to wonder if our paths are the ones we chose to take or if they are chosen for us.

Certainly, I thought I would be a blade for hire, not a healer.

But I worry, constantly, over everything. It leads me to snap at people when I don't wish to. It leads me to think of the most unpleasant thoughts about our lives and all of the land. Such is the woe of a born traveler who has already seen the world through the eyes of a child, only to mature and see a whole new alien land.

Why has everything changed so drastically? What will become of the world as times pass and the landscape once again becomes something of which hardly resembles the pictures in my mind?

I hold close the songs of old, but I dare not sing. I speak not of the bloodied and tarnished name Truesong. I am certainly not as talented as my older sister once was in her time. Though the words traveled to my ears, whispering that she rose to become a proud and heavily scarred figure. Or some similar soldier stole her name and followed in a path which would have made the real Silver Truesong proud...

I can only hope to bear the burden of my blood's new name as I try to survive in this rapidly changing world while clinging desperately to sanity.

I wonder how long until my paranoia drives others away.

~ An'giel Truesong

In desparation, the healers try some experimental potion from the Apothecary Greald Farr. "I cannot guarantee this will work..so far it has proven to have some side effects...though of course her own will to live will feature greatly." he tries to qualify his efforts in case anything goes wrong. With his bony fingers steady, he attaches the potion to her IV, allowing it to seep slowly into her system.

"It will slow the infection...giving her time to fight it off on her own...the fever should break in a few hours...be sure to cover her well...if she does not wake soon, it may be because she fears to awaken...something my be affecting her emotions...some traumas do that..." he was matter of fact about it.

"What kind of side effects are we talking about here? Will she spout strange limbs or hair in odd places?" the Sindorei healer attending Mia was being sarcastic and Greald merely smirked.

"You will know in a few hours..keep her warm when the fever breaks...and observe..." he chuckled as he walked out the door to return to Undercity.

The slow trickle of the antidote made its way into Mia. At first there was no response...then a bit of color returned to her pale face. She moaned softly in her unconcious state...then words were mumbled as she tried to fight off the demons in her mind.

The dark corner was not enough to hide her...the steady clip clop of hooves came nearer...then faded away...Mia was panting and trembling in fear. Then the scene changed and she was floating high in the sky...she was not in a vehicle...she seemed to be rushing somewhere...looking around in her dream state she realized the area she was in...Arathi Highlands...heading south...she was being drawn by something...someone...was in great pain.

At this point she had some inkling she was not in her body...but floating free...as if her spirit was free of earthly bounds. Looking behind her she saw a thin silver thread that led North, somehow she knew her body was there...far away and safe in Silvermoon. She turned south again and found her spirit drawn to a bridge ahead...someone she knew was there. Who was it? Her mind was confused and yet there seemed some urgency...suddenly she saw a Kaldorei female appear on a balcony and fade away.

Mia drifted closer and found Tyrael unconcious in the underground facility of the bridge. It was curious, he seemed to have food and water and his leg was bandaged and...splinted..it was broken. Mia could not interact with him in this form...she could only see his slow and labored breathing. With a suddeness that nearly scared the healers in Silvermoon half out of their wits, Mia snapped back to her body and sat up screaming. "Tyrael!!!"

Her eyes were wide and frightened and they had to hold her down. "It's ok...you are safe...it's just a dream...relax...you are very weak...you need time to recover..but the fever seems to have broken..." they calmed her and she lay back down, the effort to wake had exhausted her.

Tears filled her eyes as she thought of what she had done. She was such a miserable failure...no matter how hard she tried...she lay back and closed her eyes. Not asleep but resting. The healers nodded in relief and covered her with warm blankets.

An overly ornate tome with fresh paper and flowing script contains the secret thoughts of An'giel, the last Truesong.

I listen to the winds again, the sound created by the whispers of figures from distant lands. I hear rumors and tales, the strange prowess of a mage who will never starve, or a healer who can reattach severed extremities with a wave of a hand and a "donation" involving a generous purse filled with coin.

I can do neither of these things. But I remember. I also listen to foreign songs and whisper them back in my mind as a song raises in my own throat, only to be choked back, not unlike unshed tears. These scars ache, a collar binding my throat further until I can hardly breathe.

It is strange, however, how I can capture these melodies in my heart, but listening to the daily chatter and drama of the Fellowship falls upon deaf ears.

It isn't that I attempt to ignore them. I simply only know two people. I may have met a handful of others and exchanged a comment here or there, but without a face to put to the name, even these whispers of casual gossip or desperate pleads cause me to realize I have no idea who these people are, nor why I should care.

The guild is founded upon all of the good things, as Dalen has said. And I do believe him. If one were to believe that there is anything "good" left in the world. I fail to see it.

Kel or Keladryn. That is the other person I know. A far fresher initiate to this guild than I, perhaps it is fate that he would join when I never asked, or perhaps he simply wishes to challenge himself by training under this man named Tyrael.

Perhaps it is wrong that I mention him second to a high ranking guild official, when I met Keladryn first. I may well be taking him for granted in my writing, but it is far from that. I simply do not know what to do with the man.

He is annoying. He mocks my status as a woman with compliments, he insults my desire to gather herbs before jumping to save a stranger's life, and he follows me until I insult him to the point where he sulks. And yet, if I were to say one decent word towards the man, his head swells to the point where I wish to stab his face to release the hot air. So hard words are all he deserves, despite his constant aid. I would feel terrible murdering someone who has been so dedicated to our cause of advancing in this world.

And yet, we have spoken. Often. I am not used to talking to the same person so often. To those who lay tasks upon us, I simply offer a curt nod and go about my business, only to return once successful and collect my dues. To my instructors, I listen, yet hardly speak, displaying my capacity to learn through action rather than the boastful words I spout in jest.

Light and Nature adore me, yes. As I have also proven by reeling in a large fish while all Keladryn could catch was a rock tangled up in his line. Enough of one that I could brag it to be a great achievement, yet I hardly offered comment upon it at first.

He thinks I am a good person. I prove him wrong time and again, and yet he stays. So I offered him words of truth of which I am loathe to repeat, even in writing.But to set things straight, I shall do my best.

Children should not bear witness to the slaughter of friend and kin. Children should not be expected to reach out to others when they were lost and abandoned for so long. Even though I was not the one survivor who was tortured, I saw what they did to her. Silver. I saw everything as her body twisted and writhed in such unnatural ways. And, were it not for the dead hands of our father holding a death grip over my mouth, I would have screamed.

I will never forget the smell of the undead as the sun warmed their rotting flesh. The screams of the dying.

We were not warriors, but that doesn't matter to a legion bent on converting all within the land to their own terrible and unnatural way of existence.

I do not keep friends, least I be forced to bear witness to their massacre. I have one ally. I can not sympathize with the voices spoken over Guildstone, no matter how I try.

And to the one who dared say that I am whiny... I will find you and delight in the sound of bones snapping as I crush your face.

~ An'giel Truesong

The nurse watched carefully over the young elf. Mia seemed to be sleeping and her nightmares seemed to have subsided. The thoughts in her head were far from simple, however. She had failed...the Light had deserted her and she was no longer able to justify being a paladin. Her eyes closed and breathing normally gave the impression she was asleep.

The night was long and she had no more dreams, just the thoughts of what she had done. What had happened to her? Where was the idealist and honorbound paladin who just wanted to do the right thing? Traly was dead...the memory of what had happened brought her down further. She could not protect anyone...she could not even keep herself going...she was so weak...sometime during the day she heard voices in the other room.

She opened her eyes and stared blankly ahead...had they turned out all the lights? Was it night time and she had truly slept all day and all night? She turned her head to look around. No matter which way she turned ...it was black as pitch...with a sinking heart she realized..."The light has truly abandoned me...I am blind..."

Her heart hammered in her chest, now she was truly worthless to the Fellowship. Now would be a good time to just fade away. Her life was not even worth living at this point. Her emotions and will to live were fading fast.

There was a commotion at the door and Mia heard voices that sounded familiar. Her head hammered with an ache she could not shake. Then she heard him...the voice of Tyrael as he came into the ward. They were fussing over someone who was hurt..she could not see anyone. just staring blankly ahead. "Tyr...Tyrael? Is that you? Are you well?" her voice wavering in confusion.

Strong arms wrapped around her and she could feel his strength, but he seemed weak or tired...she could not tell. His warm breath fanned her cheeks and she could feel his hands as they carressed her face...but she could not see him...her world was black...not the tiniest bit of light filtered through. "Tyrael...I am so glad you are safe...I failed...the Light has left me...I ...am blind..." her whispered words stunned him.

He leaned his head against hers, the scratchy whiskers tickled her face as he said he was sorry...over and over again. Her hands gently stroked his face...how long she had wanted to do this, just to feel his arms around her...her heart thumped wildly..as she traced his jaw and felt the movement of his lips as he spoke. Her lips trembled as she yearned to kiss him...to tell him it did not matter...his calloused hands wiped tears from her cheeks as he kept saying he was sorry.

There were others in the room and soon they pulled him away, he was hurt and needed attention. Reluctantly she released him to their care. The warmth of his embrace left her slowly...the cool air...making her tremble. The nurses laid her back down and covered her.

Kel'Tira came in and spoke to her telling her they would help her in any way they could. She sounded hurt as well and Mia realized the sacrifice they had all gone through to make each other safe. Nic was there...he was strong and bristling with confidence and vowing to go after the death knight. The Fellowship was sorely tested this day...could they survive? Vaguely Mia wondered at the rest of them...how did they fare in their journey through life?

Another came in and spoke to Kel'Tira. Mal'Tar he called himself and he spoke with confidence. He said he was going after the death knight as well. He asked questions about her eyesight. The healers admitted to using an experimental potion to break her fever. They said it was probably temporary...her vision would come back in time.

Wrapping her face with bandages they covered her eyes and told her to rest. If her sight did not come back in the morning...they would consult with the Apothecary again. They had others to attend and left her to sleep.

Mia could hear them working on Tyrael and his protests, he wanted to come back to her and she smiled as she heard his voice. He had a broken leg and someone had set it for him, though she did not hear who it was. Only that whoever had done it was competent. With a nod and a sigh she listened to the healers as they administered a pain killer to Tyrael. Mia knew it would put him out, she had worked with severely injured before. If they did not rest quietly, pain killers would force them to sleep to recover.

Her thoughts drifted as she wondered at the fact she could now pick up sounds from around the room. She could hear someone pacing the floor nervously, the creak of the chair as someone sat down. The swish of the skirts of the nurses as they walked by to check on her.

(1/2)

The hour was very late...most of the patients were asleep. Mia lay in her bed and thought..."How can I go on? What use am I to this Fellowship?" She heard a floor board creak as someone made their way to her bed. A soft hand felt her brow.

"I know you do not sleep, I am old and cannot sleep either...they think I am useless now...but I still get around..." the voice was scratchy. A heavy figure sat in a chair next to the bed. The chair protested as she sat down. "I am Dalana...just an old nurse...I come by to tend the patients at night...I read your chart...you cannot see at all? Is that correct? Well, let's hope they are right and it will come back in time. It could have been the potion...dam those experimental things anyway...you never know what will happen." her hands gently checked the bandages on Mia's back.

"I hardly feel the wound now...it is healing fast...it does itch a bit.." Mia grinned, she knew it was healing. She tried to relax and not think about her loss of vision. "How...is Tyrael doing? I know he is sleeping...I think they probably gave him something..." her voice soft as she did not want to awaken any of the other patients.

"Him? Ah he is strong as a Tauren...he will be fine...what does he mean to you? A friend? Or something more?" her old voice teasing as Mia blushed.

"N... n...nothing...he is part of the Fellowship...I care about all of them...they are all stronger than I..." her voice trailed off. Her friends...all of them...she truly did care...but did he mean more to her? The old nurse sighed as she got up to check on Tyrael. The old elf made Mia realize something....she did care...the feel of his strong arms around her and his face so near..her thoughts made her blood race. Did he care about her? Why had he sounded so guilty? Something about him had changed. It was subtle...but he seemed to have had a change of heart...she wondered if he still thought glory and fame were all that were worth pursuing.

Jorunal of Malt'ar
The first thing I shall do when I am free of this debt is kill that !@#$% Angiel! Gah I can't stand her! How I will love the feel of her skin being flayed under my blade!

Bah members of this fellowship are so foolish. Two almost died to a Death Knight. Bah, why did they even fight if they are far weaker. Foolish and weak. Now One is a cripple and the other, well who cares about him.

Finished a high priority assassination mission for the organization again. Hah that other assassin won't ever catch me as lead death bringer. Was easy, the little prince may have hidden behind walls and deep inside his fortress but I got to him and slayed him, but I must be getting sloppy, he was able to draw his weapons before he died. I need to practice a little more it seems, perhaps by killing that ^-*!@? Haha, oh I cannot wait for that day.

Kill list
-(First name is scribbled out)
-Human Death Knight
-Nicias (After debt is repaid, brother will die)
- The #$%^ Angiel- (kill slowly)

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Stonard

Mia's fever has broken... Yet she is blind by some cruel twist of fate. She fears the Light has left her, and I can only pray that is not so. I worry about her, she has changed... No longer is she sure of herself. She trembles, afraid of the darkness that blankets her now. Surprisingly, the only one who seemed able to comfort her was Tyrael.

We found him on the Thandol Span, near death and slipping away. Tai Stronghammer has done this to my friends, and I fear for them, and my self. Tyrael has likely been given another reason to hate me. By healing him so that he could move, I exhausted myself and could do little more for him, leaving him to ride, painfully, to Silvermoon.

He is too proud.

The Firehawks are all stubborn. However, Tyrael's single-minded determination to be at Mia's side has furthered my opinion of him. I believe he truly cares for her.

I could not stay in the room with them. I left for the inn, planning to eat and rest, crying, telling Nic to stay with the others, to protect them, because I could not. Neither food nor sleep found me... Only worries and waking nightmares.

If only we could --

(The next lines are covered in blood)

-- more?

Damn.

How long has it been since I slept? Sharpening my quill, I sliced my hand open... How long has it been since I have eaten anything?

Stonard is damp, green, and murky. Just as everything in this swamp is, so have I become. Mud cakes my gear and my skin. A bath... How I long for a bath!

I fear I acted hastily in Silvermoon, Malt'ar, (who is he?) has pledged himself to destroying Stronghammer.

Nicias... I ache for the feel of his arms around me... To feel his form against mine... I feel so alone...

Tyrael

Death did not find me yesterday and it seemed as if it was not meant to ever be my fate to die on that bridge. A rather interesting position I am now stuck in, with healers and medics scurrying around tending to my wounds wondering how I survived such blood loss. It is as if they do not understand what it means to fail, I could not die while I had failed my comrades, my family or my people. There is still so much work to be done...

But I now realize that I cannot do it just through strength of arms and will, I must be patient and prudent. I feel like I am a young elf again, learning once more that there is more to life. I feel like a fool for disregarding what Kel'tira and Mia tried to explain to me, but now I understand. Yet they still do not see what I have seen... What I know. The Fellowship cannot afford to be blinded by ideals right now... That Death Knight has powerful friends and I am wary to even go out of the city without allies.

I do not like what I must do but it must be done... I will ask Dalen to hunt this Tai Stronghammer, force him into hiding and keep him there while we grow stronger. But there is something else that must be done, I must learn who among my family would know of a Kaldorei, and that list is very small. I cannot afford any weak links, any traitors among us and so there will be questions, tasks that will be given. The new assassin... Malt'ar, whoever he is seems apt for the task.

The Fellowship must be strong if it is to survive...

Varus

Bah! I cannot believe it! While I was out helping the Argent Crusade's Brotherhood of the Light reclaim Tyr's Hand I miss the events that unfold within the Fellowship! It is as if that monstrous Death Knight taunts me from afar, attacking my comrades and friends and working to undermine those around me to force me to act before I am ready. I cannot stand it, the rage and vengeance I feel must be sated! The Scourge here are proving to be weaker than I expected.

I must find more worthy opponents... But first I must march through the rest of the Plaguelands, killing the remnants of the Scourge and then marrying my fiancé. Life seems to be all over the place... From Traly's death, to the injuries suffered by Mia and Tyrael to my wedding and Wyndd's pregnancy...

I do not know what the future holds, but I will be strong.

I must be strong.

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

The Red Reaches

(The words are written in a rusty red ink... Is that... Blood?)

Tongues of pain lick through my body... Is it strange that, through the dusky cloud that seems to encase me, nothing really feels bad? Pain is temporary... Pain is brief. It is what happens once the pain is gone that I am afraid of... That is what I truly fear...

What happens when the pain is gone? What happens then?

(The end of the sentence jags off of the page. When the writing resumes further down the page, the lettering is shakier.)

Pain... It was not so bad at first, but now it returns in force, it feels as if I have hammers inside of my skull... Oh Nic... I am so sorry...

I am afraid...

I have thrown myself in harm's way once more to save others, and this time... This time I do not know if I will have another chance. The tadpoles are safe, but the naga have done damage deeper than I can hope to heal alone. If I could focus, I could heal myself enough to make it to Dreadmaul Hold, or the Sunveil encampment...

The pain... The howls of demons and naga alike... Hopelessness...

Nic... I am so sorry...

I feel the blackness coming to swallow me... It eats at the edges of my vision, and I fear this is the end.

For whoever finds this journal, I am Kel'Tira Sunblaze...

(The trail of "ink" runs off of the page, a single drop of what is clearly blood is the only mark on the next page.)

Dreadmaul Hold

(The handwriting is neater, clearer, but still shaky. The ink is real ink.)

The Orcs tell me they found me what must have been moments after I passed out, the ink on the page was still wet, they said. They tell me they brought me here, and that I almost died. Light, I do not feel like I almost died... Whoever has healed me is strong, and has done a good job. They say I am as good as new, and that they had many, many healers working over me.

They tell me I was lucky they were patrolling.

They tell me to be more careful.

Once again, I cannot abide by that. I know, that however much harm I might come to, I will continue to step before the blows that would rain upon others. Whether they are of the Fellowship, or are murloc tadpoles, I will do my best to help them. Maybe I would be better off dead. Maybe...

No.

If I had not been drunk... If I had not been drunk I would not have been in this situation... To much was on me, and I drank to forget, and I have nothing to show for that except another scar. The flesh wound was not even that bad... It was scratch, in comparison, to what was really the matter.

The Orc healers, with traditional tact, said, "Your lung popped."

This is why I am not a healer, because I cannot deal with people in pain. I feel like I should be able to do more... So I guard people. I take the pain so that others do not need to!

See where that has gotten me?

I am afraid to stand, afraid to pick up my weapon and shield. I wish... I wish Nic was here...

Dark Portal

There is nothing here but blasted granite and demons. The portal is unnerving at best, and terrifying at worst. More importantly, the Orcs did the healing well, and I feel fine, simply scared, and determined not to change my mind about what I am doing.

The only conclusion I have reached is that I will not drink if I am going to be anywhere but a city. I cannot afford another mistake like that... Nicias... Where are you now?

It was late morning when Mia was addressed by the head healer who sat and talked to her for maybe an hour. "I have been in touch with the Apothecary who treated you Karamia, and he seems to think a retreat is in order. Time for you to relax and regain your stability and heal your mind and spirit as well as your body. We have found a place where you can go, it is situated in the Lorderon area, along the lake. Quiet and peaceful. Undercity is close and you will have a fast trip to get there." his voice and manner were soothing and Mia was relaxed.

"What will I do there? I mean...I cannot see or even call on the Light." she worried about one thing only, that she would not see Tyrael very often. He had promised to take care of her and seemed sincere. Even now as she thought of the taste of his lips on hers it gave her goosebumps. He had said he cared deeply for her. The shock of losing her eyesight and feeling helpless had ebbed when he said that.

"We have an escort for you and a few others who are also going to be there for treatment. A farstrider named Kaevelara has agreed to take you there and protect you on your journey. Your things are safe here and you will be able to take your armor and weapons with you." he dismissed her then.

Mia was dressed and out the door before she even had a chance to speak to the others. She tought it would be good for them to stop worrying about her and concentrate on the Fellowship. She would be well in no time and back to work, or so she thought.

Hearing Tyrael's voice on the communicator gave her a chance to tell him of her treatment and reassure him she was safe. He seemed cheerful and chatty with the others and unconcerned about her whereabouts. He wished her well and said he would visit.

The trip was uneventful and Kae was chatty and friendly. She had a wolf named Jaeger who was friendly to everyone. Mia asked her if she was interested in joining the Fellowship and Kae agreed it sounded like a good organisation. The sounds of water lapping on the shores of the Lake seemed to have a calming effect on Mia.

An elderly woman named Dahlia met them at the lodge, she helped Mia unpack her things and settled for a while chatting until after the noon meal. Mia was happy to have a new friend.

After lunch Mia was introduced to an instructor who helped those with sight problems. Khain spoke softly and helped Mia learn how to navigate around with the help of a staff. "It can be used as a weapon as well, Mia....I can teach you how to use your other senses to know where everything is ...even if you cannot see it with your eyes."

They spent all afternoon in a clearing in the Hills next to the Lodge. Sparring with each other and laughing at mistakes and bruises. Mia was getting the hang of it by late afternoon and by evening she felt more confident then she had since the attack.

It was not until night fell that Mia felt the unease of being in a strange place. Her bed was hard and the bedding scratchy, but at least she had a bed and it was warm enough in the cabin.Her dreams were uneasy and she woke often, trembing and afraid. If it had not been for the comforting presence of Dalia in the room with her she would have been packing her bags to go home. Maybe Tyrael would visit her tomorrow...she hoped he would not forget her...but of course he wouldn't...he had promised.

Journal entry-Nicias
The sun began to set as I pulled the axe from the corpse of the Talbuk. It had been almost a day. I have been so busy that he havn't made contact with kel. Oh How I miss her, so I think once I finish my last mission I shall go surprise her. Oh I cannot wait to feel her embrace again and hold her close to me.

Nicias walked slowly up to the compound. He stared up the road and saw some orcs, dressed in all black. He unsheathed his pole-arm and walked up the path to engage them. It was a fast fight and relatively soon the two orcs lay still on the ground, their life blood staining the earth. Nicias continued walking and encountered several more, and finished them off with similar ease.

As Nicias neared the central dome, where his target was supposedly hiding, he felt like something was off. It just seemed like things were going well, too well. Nicias shrugged off the thought after several minutes and continued inside. It was empty, he walked around and eventually came to the central room, seeing his target, The Crone. He readied his weapon and charged.
"I have been expecting you!" The crone replied in a raspy voice. Nicias looked around and saw that seven orc guards appeared. They had been hiding, lying in wait, and now he was surrounded. They all carried sharp spears, double their own massive seven foot height. Nicias growled in anger. "Dammit!" he thought, "How could I have been such a fool!" As he finished thinking this, he heard The Crone laughing, and the gaurdsmen were upon him.

Nicias managed to quickly decapitate the first guard in one mighty fell swoop of his massive pole-arm. Yet Nicias didn't stop there, using the momentum from the massive blow, he continued in a circle in a whirlwind style attack and knocked two orcs back, slicing open ones gut. Yet the others were undeterred and pressed their own attack. Nicias barely managed to dodge an attack that would have impaled him in the throat, but was unable to dodge a sweeping attack from the other guard. The blade of the spear slid along the plate armor, leaving a large slash mark, but doing the flesh no harm. Nicias jumped back and regained his footing, getting ready to charge. The remaining four standing gaurds surrounded Nicias and slowly closed in. Nicias knew he had to quickly escape or he'd become skewered.

Nicias began to think quickly and thought up a quick solution. Nicias charged the one of the gaurds and raised his weapon. The others charged Nicias' back waiting for this opening. Yet instead of Nicias attacking the orc like they expected, he planted his weapon into the ground and used it to jump over the guard. The orc who he jumped over stood there for a second, staring in disbeleif, but thats all Nicias needed. He quickly disposed of the orc with a clean slice to the waist. Now only three remained.

The orcs again surrounded him this time in a triangle. "BAH! You fools! Fine I shall take care of it myself." The crone yelled. He then began a long intricate chant, moving his hands and fingers in odd and unique ways. Nicas cursed. He knew if he didn't take care of that cursed caster he was as good as dead. He let loose a berserker charge and gutted the one of the orc guards, not even slowing down. He charged the Crone, but was hit by something hard. One of the other guards had charged full force into him knocking him down to the ground. The orc was also knoked to the ground in that powerful attack and also seemed to be dazed. Nicias got up, holding onto his throbbing head with one hand. He pulled a dagger from his belt and quickly burried it into the neck of the orc that had knocked into him. He then stumbled towards his weapon and picked it up. Now it was just him the gaurd and Crone.