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The gaurd stood between Crone and him, a snarl on his face as he had his spear pointed at Nicias. Nicias Wasn't looking at him though, he was busy eyeing Crone's movements. Crone began to raise her hands into the air, indicating that the spell was almost complete. Nicias felt the dark energies that had begun to amass and knew that he was surely dead if he didn't stop her now. Without hesitation he threw the massive and heavy pole-arm at her. She was surprised, and unable to dodge it as the deadly weapon hit her. She had been in the middle of saying the last word as the front tip entered her mouth. The pole-arm continued throught the soft tissue at the back of the throat and out the other side, not stopping until it hit the wall. It dragged the mangled corpse with it and held it there, pinned to the wall.

Nicias let out a sigh of relief, but that was soon gone as he felt a burning in his abdomen. He looked down to see the orc's spear buried deep in his right abdomen. The orc pushed harder, driving Nicias back and eventually against a wall. Nicias was pinned. As his blood poured out of him, he thought fast. He didn't have much time and he knew that the orc, now grinning, would just hold him there until he bled to death. With his right hand he reached behind him and grabbed the handel of the gun he carried there. With Nicais' left hand he gripped the spear. The orc then stopped grinning and just stared. Nicias used his left arm and pulled. The spear went cleanly through the other side. He took one large step and the spear was now even farther through. Nicias has walked up the spear that had pinned him there. The orc still just stood there. Nicias leveled the gun with the orc's head and quickly fired. Bits of skull and brains littered the ground as well as some of the farther wall. The headless corpse then slouched to the ground.

Nicias reached into his pack and pulled out one of the healing potions he always carried. One hand opening the bottle and the other on the spear. He quickly yanked the spear out, letting out a massive scream of agony. He almsot dropped the potion. Tears of pian rolled down his face. He then drank the potion in one gulp. The healing properties worked immediatly, helping stop the bleeding and reattach some of the skin together, but it wasn't enough.

Nicias called his mount over. He tried to get onto the Hawkstrider, but his abdomen hurt to much. He then just threw himself upon the mount, lying on his stomach and told it to take him to the nearest town. His hawkstrider, having been his mount and companion for a long time knew its masters will and began to run to Garadar at full speed. Nicias moaned the whole way. The pain was eventually too much and blackness took hold of him. As the hawkstrider entered, the healer quickly began to work on him, noting that he had just barley made it in time.

Nicias didn't hear any of this though, instead he dreamed of a nice quiet forest, and living in a house with his beloved Kel. It was the happiest dream he had ever had.

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

There are many events within my life that I dare not express, even in secret, even on paper. Keladryn knows of some of these thoughts, but not all of them. But he is already far more privy to my life than I would like. Not even a week has passed since we began our alliance, but still, I feel as if I must keep him around, or the last of my sanity might just shatter.

Taunting the foolish assassin of the Fellowship is as easy as baiting a dumb beast and provides grand amusement, though I do not believe Kel himself knows exactly why I find pleasure in aggravation. Be it someone else's pain or my own, at least there is feeling. That cruel satisfaction of knowing I am far above a stupid beast paired with knowing I may lead to my own demise is a delicious affair.

And yet I cannot stand being toyed with. Who would toy with me? That same damned man of whom I owe my life. Yet he doesn't hold it over my head.

A just and kind nitwit. I hope Tyrael beats him until he grows crueler just as I am.

I also plan to kill Tyrael in cold blood if he does anything to ruin that sweeter side.

Perhaps I may well kill everyone around me. Or lead them to desire my demise. Either sounds pleasant. And yet, my will to survive is slowly beginning to grow past my desire to find a partner for assisted suicide. I still mourn my every breathing moment and find myself the most vile thing in existence, but at moments... I feel normal. Like everyone else. I feel...

I do not want to feel.

I also refuse to drink around Keladryn a second time, least I end up too ashamed to show my face in yet another city. And Light forbid that idiot assassin catch wind of such a thing. A blade in my back sounds like a pleasant way to end my life, but allowing others to believe there may be "something" more to this alliance... A friendship or... ick. Romance... Would only lead to Keladryn being either tortured, killed, or possibly both.

I still need to have the healers look at me after that one...

The warped part of me would find that amusing. Now I desire to hang myself off of some stranger to force him to be marked for death. Yet I already know that if I am forced to bear witness to any more atrocities, I will go completely mad. One last push...

I have written his name here far too many times. What is wrong with me?

In other news. I threw my Guildstone. Another idiot from within the Fellowship spoke out of turn when I was attempting to make a point of being "nice". So I couldn't rightfully yell at... him.

So I threw the stone.

I haven't a clue where it is, and Tyrael has already rubbed me the wrong way.

I will retreat for the weekend to train with the Blood Knights. If they would have me. Most of them are far too busy with their duties to Silvermoon to pay heed to a lowly paladin like myself, but perhaps if I play nice, they will reconsider.

Blood Knights. The defenders of Quel'Thalas, the servants of Silvermoon City, and the true masters of the Light.

Grand. I am now the servant of a servant.

~ An'giel Truesong

The days were fine, Mia spent her time working with Khain to learn basic defence with a staff, and it helped her to get around quite well. After a week of hard knocks and bruises,she felt more confident. Surprisingly some of her vision was returning. She could see some shapes now though it seemed to be like peering through a fog. She learned to fight instinctively and fast.

Her best reward however, was when Tyrael came to visit. She had to show off her fighting technique. To her surprise and maybe to his she was able to keep him at bay with only a few minor touches he managed to sneak in. He was so sweet about it, he would not hit her, but shielded himself and only got a couple bruises. A interesting thing happened as they sparred, she instinctively flung a flash of Light at Tyr. It was a defensive gesture but it hit him and knocked him down. Mia gasped in shock, the Light was still with her! She was afraid she had hurt him but he laughed it off. Her relief was great and she had to drop her staff to hug him. They sat together and chatted for a few hours.

She found out some of his experience at the bridge seemed to involve a Kaldorei. Though he could not remember much about it. He mentioned one of his relatives was known to the Kaldorei female. But she refused to name herself or the one she knew. It was quite a mystery. The Death knight was a whole different story. He was after Varus, and it seemed anyone who helped Varus was the brunt of this man's ire. Tai Stonehammer...a human who was cold and ruthless...he hated elves...she wondered why?

When Tyr left, Mia went back to her cabin and contemplated. Tyrael had again pledged his sword and sheild to protect her. It filled her with mixed feelings. On one hand she cared about him deeply, he brought out the best in her...and made her feel wanted. But she was a commoner and she was afraid his family would reject any relationship he might have with her. Of course they would not care if he dallied with her, but she had been brought up with more pride than that. If he offered marriage...would she accept? His family may reject him if he did. He said he did not care what they thought.

That night she slept in her bed with pleasant dreams for most of the night. Her thoughts of Tyrael had finally managed to banish her nightmares of the death knight.

The tall Kaldorei sat in her small cabin by the Pond, her hands busy with pen and paper. It was hard to do, but she felt she had to set down some kind of record...her actions would appear odd to say the least.

Jazzy's Journal

Today I watched as the sun glinted golden over the harbor of Stormwind. My sweet love, my Dalen, came to visit me. His words stunned me. The death knight I have set the wheels rolling to enter service of the Ocheliad...is the enemy of Dalen. Tai Stronghammer...the cold relentless killer will undoubtably be asked to swear to Imperon...but will he honor that oath? I have my doubts...the man seems loyal to himself alone. It would not surprise me to see him sent to be fodder on the front lines of whatever battle Imperon is fighting...his skill is great...and he is arrogant and proud enough to make sure everyone knows it.

I watched him battle Commander Paden, who toyed with him for a good long amount of time before trouncing him. I cheered at Paden...my friend in the Ocheliad. His training gave me confidence at one time...though I do not stand a chance to spar against him now.

I am torn...I love Dalen with all my heart...but I am sworn to Imperon Showdah...to serve him and protect him with my life. Honor bound to help any Ocheliad if they request aid. I give thought to somehow speaking out against Longshadow...of undermining his chances at acceptance. Though my words would not carry much weight. Perhaps if I give him enough rope...he will hang himself...his actions and arrogance already rub some of the Ocheliad the wrong way. But it is ultimately up to Imperon if he accepts the death knight.

If I am sent to battle against my love Dalen...by direct order of Imperon...I am honor bound to fight him...but I would lose...his skill is great and even if he were to hold back...I would die before I could end his life...I am honor bound to try...and I would choose death before dishonor. And death before my hand can find his heart to kill him...Dear Light...let it never come to that.

(the journal is placed in a safe place...tears drops stain the page and blur some of the words, a few grains of sand cling to the page)

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

I have become so distracted. How many days has it been since I even touched my weapons? Let alone used them? Today, I will begin the long trek to Silithis before I pass through the Dark Portal...

I wonder how Nic and Mia and the others are? Thunder Bluff is quiet, and the Tauren accept me with open arms. I have learned much from their sunwalkers. I fear I am getting soft, doing naught but sitting and thinking these past days.

Today, that changes. Silithus... According to Tyrael, the place is full of bugs.

I despise bugs.

The placid waters of the Lake Lordemere were barely rippling. Mia sat on the docks and contemplated. She missed Tyrael. He had said he was coming for a visit. She owndered what had happened to him.

When the steady clip clop of hooves came near she jumped up and called out. "Hello?" but the voice she heard was not Tyrael. She could hear the shifting of plate armor and a slight cough from someone.

"Hello...I am looking for an injured paladin..." he spoke and Mia was confused. She was blinded, but not really injured. She stepped slowly along the decking and used her staff to avoid tripping.

"I am Karamia Dawnstrike, I am a paladin...but I am blind..." she hesitated. She was not happy with being in this condition. She felt worthless and a burden to her Fellowship.

"Ah, forgive me I am Aranthil, a paladin of the Holy Order, I have been asked to see to your condition. If I may." his voice calm and respectful. Though she thought she could hear a slight wheeze as he ended his words, as if he had trouble breathing.

"Oh...of course...though I have been told it is temporary...my vision will come back in time..I hope." she murmered as she followed him to the cabin and sat in a chair. Nervously she removed her protective glasses and set them on the table.

Aranthil examined her eyes and could see nothing wrong with them. "Do you see anything at all? Any lightening or colors or darkness?" he asked gently. His fingers touched her head gently as he looked into her eyes.

"I can see some blurred motions, mostly as if I am seeing things in a fog, some are lighter and some very dark. Some like you...actually glow slightly..I am assuming they are Light users." she replied. Her skin tingled when he began trying to heal her. The Holy Light filled her with a cool ticklish sensation. "I am in no pain...I just cannot seem to focus...ever since I woke up from the fever. They had told me they used some potion from an Apothecary to break the fever."

The paladin was angry, "Those fools no nothing of the living, we need to reverse this...I am going to try and fix it..." he was sitting next to her and placed his hand over her eyes. With a prayer and a gathering of energy, he cast directly into her eyes, a cleansing and Light based spell that took her breath away. It stung like bees in her eyes and she cried out in anguish."I am so sorry...I hope it did not hurt too badly...it was not my intention." he was truly contrite.

Mia shook her head, and opened her eyes. "All I can see is clouds and vague shapes..." she was dejected and sad. She was never going to be able to go back to work this way. Her heart ached for Tyrael. He did not deserve a cripple for a mate.

"Mia...I am beginning to think your vision is being blocked by your own fear...let me tell you a story..." his voice was starting to sound a little rough. He coughed and cleared his throat. After an hour of telling her his tale she felt ashamed of her lack of faith. She looked to where his voice came from and somehow she seemed to be seeing a bit clearer.

She blinked and gasped as her vision cleared more as she vowed to him. "I want to become a force to be reckoned with...I will be a Hammer of Justice and a slayer of demons. I will root out evil and bring those who use it to their knees...I will be strong...I am proud to be Sindorei!"

Aranthil
Today I had talked to a young paladin. She has lost not only her sight, but her way as well. I had another bout as well. Curse this weak and feeble body. How long do I have left? Anyways, I told the paladin the tale of the sunwell and the battle that transpired there. After telling her my story, she looked as if she had new fervor, and looked stronger as well. I sense great strength from her, and know that she shall be a truly powerful paladin indeed. I shall personally train her as well and make sure she is strong. Also something odd happened after I told my story, she hugged me. I was rather shocked, I don't even remember the last time I had even touched another person let alone a woman. It was surprising indeed.

(Next part is written a little sloppy as if troubled and there is some blood on the page.)
The bouts are happening more often, can barley stand sometimes. Gah, at this rate I wont last the year! Need to keep looking, I MUST NOT GIVE UP! I.. (abruptly stops)

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Silvermoon Inn

Wyndd and Varus were married yesterday, and I allow myself a moment of pride for the conveyance of the ceremony. The reception, perhaps, was slightly lack-luster, what with my drinking, Nic's careless words, and the darker direction the conversation turned. After what I have heard...

Nic's brother...

What are we going to do?

Nic...

How many words to describe him... Charming. Handsome. Stubborn. Protective. Loving. Fiance. Lover. Friend.

It was bliss to fall asleep last night with his arms around me. Something I have dreamed of for far too long. And when was the last time someone held me that way? Decades? A century?

I shall set it down on paper, what happened, and later today, I suppose, I will share with Nic what transpired in my past, and why I was not completely focused last night.

It was years ago... I was younger, and in love with a man I thought loved me back. It was very nearly the same situation of last night, the inn was quiet, we were alone. He... He proposed to me, just as Nic did, and I said yes, just as I told Nic. He had a ring and everything... Treyn... He seemed genuinely in love. But I was young, and naive, I suppose. He took advantage of me. He used me, and then drew a blade against me.

I fought, my own dagger sinking into Treyn's throat before the night was out.

I am done writing for now. I will set my past behind me, and focus on the days ahead.

Dalen

Damn that Death Knight to the depths of hell! I found him yesterday, in the wastes of the Western Plaguelands near the outskirts of Andorhal. It was a hard fought battle and I barely escaped with my life he is a powerful enemy and I fear that the Fellowship has bitten off more than it can chew. I will now describe the battle as I remember it that should someone find this or when I die they can learn from my mistakes against this Death Knight...

It was cold, a chill crept up my spine as I stalked the dead and slowly regrowing forests of the Plaguelands. I had followed the clues and the tracks and knew that Tai Stronghammer was here, but the question was where exactly. It was at this point a cold and evil laugh echoed off the trees and my body reacted far ahead of my mind and three arrows were sent whizzing through the air only to thud into the wood of nearby trees as the laughter continued. "What is it Ranger? Are you afraid?" A voice, that I know recognize as Tai Stronghammer's made its way down to me and when I looked up I saw him on his bony gryphon, his icy blue eyes staring down at me in hunger.

"I do not fear you Death Knight, for you shall make a fine pincushion!" I cried at him, raising my bow and firing arrows at the Death Knight, but I was already too late for Tai jumped and landed in a cloud of dust on the ground, his bony gryphon unfazed by the stream of arrows coming at it. A dark chuckle left Tai as he drew his cursed runeblade from his back. "I grow hungry elf, can you help me sate my thirst?" Tai asked mockingly as he stepped forward his runeblade glowing with power as he reached into the ground and pulled about himself a bone shield and a horrible howl filled the air the likes of which I had not heard since the defense of Quel'thalas as if the horns of the North had come to haunt me.

"Do not worry Tai, I shall cut you to pieces and burn them to ash!" I cried, firing more arrows at the Death Knight only to have them deflected by the bone shield, cursing the undead monster I dropped my bow and drew my scimitars. I closed with the Death Knight and was staggered by his strength, he seemed to be toying with me, striking at a slower speed and a lower strength just to test me. I growled as I tried to break his defenses on to find that when I scored a hit he would draw from me my own life force to repair the damage done to him. To my horror I slowly was whittled down and in the end I had to flee, slowing the Death Knight and using my ability to camouflage myself to hide from him until he left.

What a cowardly act but it was necessary, I could not die and leave my cousin and his allies without someone to help them in their time of need. Tyrael did not hold it against me when he met with me today, but I could tell he was disappointed. It seemed like there was a lot of disappointment, not just at my failing to kill Tai though I suspect it was a large part of his disappointment. His words still haunt me as I sit here resting while my wounds heal...

"Do not worry Dalen, I will think of something..." He had said, as if I was no longer to hunt that damned Death Knight. But I will not listen I will kill him and save my cousin and his Fellowship and keep Jazzy from having to fulfill any oath that she may have to... I hope I succeed...

(1/2)

Tyrael

Two meetings today, both bringing me news that makes me quake with both anger and fear. I cannot tell what to do in these dark times and yet everyone looks to me to lead. A painful burden trying to decide how to act without causing undue harm in any form to those that I have come to call friends and comrades. Dalen tells me that Tai is stronger than even he can handle currently and I once again grow fearful that we will not be able to defeat him but at the same time Malt'ar, Nicias' brother, brings me news that makes me question whether Dalen's duel was real or not.

What am I to do with my family? My cousin Lilli seeks to infuriate the entire Firehawk family with her actions and to slander our name with her little tryst with Ikthael is causing me no end to frustration and I have yet to speak to her about it. I already know how she will react though, all haughty and disregard what I say and attack me and my decisions. But our situations differ entirely, I am an outcast amongst the family, a warrior who has yet to earn the right to be recognized according to my father's ruling. She yet remains high in the family's esteem and as a magi she has the ability to attain higher status than I ever could. I would not see her throw such things away simply for a tryst!

But I digress as I now turn my thoughts to dealing with Dalen and this Kaldorei lover of his, what nonsense is this? Dalen who was a champion of our people lowered to such levels as to fall in love with a Kaldorei? I cannot fathom what is going on with him that I fear for the future, oh if only I was not the one in charge. I do not know what to do, I want to do what is right for the Fellowship and yet I do not know what that entails. I wish I could just spend more time with Mia, and let her make me see yet again how much of a fool I am.

What would she do in regards to my cousins? I wonder...

Varus

Marriage...

I cannot believe that I am finally married to Wyndd, the past is finally behind me except for my oath to avenge my family. For that I must get stronger so that I can destroy him, so many have failed to do so before I must be sure I am strong enough! I will not allow Wyndd to be hurt by this monstrosity, nor will I let any others fall to his darkness. I shall become stronger and when I am strong enough I shall crush him and scatter his ashes to the winds!

But that will have to wait, for now I must discern what it is that Nicias hides so that I can aid him, he seeks vengeance like myself and yet he refuses aid. It will only lead to his undoing... For now I close my journal and move out into the world again.

(2/2)

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

I was never truly told, nor taught much. Rather, I was sent about tasks far too mundane for them to handle, but just as pointless for me to attend. And, soon enough, I found myself bored and thinking of him. It annoys me to realize my thoughts drift back to my ally, but perhaps that is the condition of my mind and body. I simply wish to be close to the one person I have given even a shred of trust to.

Ironic that, when I finally left the Blood Knights and went to check into Keladryn's training, he was sitting on the zeplin that I was planning to board. For some reason, he felt the desire to come to not just Undercity, but Origrimmar. Though, I was rather irritated to hear that it was because of a wedding. A wedding? Out of the blue? And from within the Fellowship as well.

I have been without my stone for only a short time, and to hear of such a thing occuring within a short time span makes me question everything. Just how long have these people known each other? How strong can a short term commitment be? I followed him, not because I care for the Fellowship, but because I wish to drag him back into the battlefield as soon as the pleasantries are over.

Oh, how naive my choice was. For, soon, I found us to be the center of attention. Being lesser known beings, as I often tuned out the others as the spoke, and Keladryn keeps only to me, it was obvious that hardly any of them would recognize us, except by the occasional spoken word. Perhaps my ally suffers the same mistrust that I do.

Greetings and welcomes were had, even though we've been within this Fellowship for a time. It made me wonder just what was wrong with these people. But, ah well. We sat in the back, as neither had brought gifts, we simply observed.

It was dull. There was no bloodshed. Just some strange semblance of false bliss. Again, I questioned just how much these people... Varus and Wyndd... knew each other. But, it is not as if I understand. Perhaps they served together in the Third War. Perhaps even farther back. It is hard to tell an elf's age, even when one is an elf.

Congratulations were to be had, but both Kel and I recalled our last experience with drink. I have sworn the stuff off now. And he seems quite shy of it was well. How odd, these similarities. Or, perhaps he simply already knew why I wished to steal him away from the whole affair. Not only that, but I personally felt I had no place at the reception, as I knew of neither before their wedding day.

Why do people like it when I am blunt? Do they all simply enjoy how I spew vile against the world, myself, and them? My words can dance better than a silver tongued rogue's, but that is because of who I once was. Who I will never be again. That is all I can wonder. Perhaps I ought to lie more to spread the hatred towards me...

... Of which I confessed to him. I told him that I truly believe... oh, what was his name... Malt'ar? I care not if I am wrong, but I feel that he will come after me. Perhaps he will be foolish enough to attack Keladryn as well. Perhaps even first, though I am nothing but cruel to the man, it seems more likely that he might attempt to seduce Keladryn into taking his hatred out on me.

What a hilariousness day that will be.

I feel safe enough, wrappede within this web I have lain. All perception of who and what I am is warped at all angles, and there is only room for one to see deeper. For now. Until I am certain there is no longer a threat, this charade must continue. I have decided that I do not care if I force the Fellowship's hatred, if it keeps a repeat mistake of the past from happening.

I will not see them fall due to my weakness.

I will not lie buried under the corpse of my loved one while watching those I care for be tortured.

I am sorry, Malt'ar, but living is the greatest torture to me. And for every day you are bound into your bridle and guided by the bit crafted of another's whim, I shall grow stronger. Until, one day, you find your head severed from your body.

Or until someone else has the pleasure of taking my life.

I will not please you, either way.

...

I truly need to seek a healer or a woman who knows better of specific items which ought not be mentioned. None of it will do me any good until more time has passed, but...

I am afraid.

As is he.

I have a baby raptor.

~ An'giel Truesong

Malt'ar watched from the shadows. He saw his brother and that paladin talking. He heard everything. The thought of his brother being happy made him sick. He himself could not be happy, so why should his weak brother? It wasn't fair! It had never been FAIR! Malt'ar gripped his daggers, their hilts in his hands making him feel stronger, safer.

Why was it he sought the death of his brother? He threw out that thought as quickly as it entered. He just knew he had to. It had to be done. He saw his brother then propose to the paladin. Anger surged through him then. He knew now that it was jealousy. He wanted that happy life! He had fought and trained so hard, but for what?! He scowled. "I will never be happy, and that is just fine." He walked away thinking up horrible ways to end his brothers happiness. That is when it occurred to him. He smiled wickedly as he began to plot.

As I roamed the streets of Silvermoon deep in thought I found myself sitting in the hall of respite. I had apparently gone there without thinking. I found myself thinking and sitting. Then I heard a voice. I looked up from my thoughts and looked over to see a young elf. She approached me and asked me if i was in the fellowship of the rising sun. I thought for a moment. I said, I was sort of in it. As was the case I was not a true member. She then looked at me seductively, as if trying to cause me to fall for some sort of charm. I just sighed. Did she truly think such acts would work on a High paladin of the order? She then asked if I would be able to help her attain something, and in return she said she could help me with my problem. I could not hold back a laugh then, and this brought a rather confused look to her face.

"I am not sure who told you of my 'condition', but I doubt that ANYONE could reverse the corruption of a high ranking lieutenant of Sargeras." She had a rather odd look and replied rather angrily, "Well, I am not that strong YET, but I will be! So do we have a deal?"

"No." I simply replied. "I do not need a deal to help those, it is a duty of those that follow the light to lend it to others and help those in need."
She looked at me confused, "No one.....no one has ever done anything without some kind of favor from me..." She blushed a little. I scowled to think about what she was thinking. "Well, I am a high paladin, it is my duty to the light as well as my people."
She simply smiled at me, yet this time I couldn't tell if it was fake or sincere. "I just simply wish to travel to Scholomance and retrieve an item of power from the headmaster."
Great, i thought to myself, another warlock seeking power. I sighed. I guess I can help you." I said rather reluctantly. I told her that it had been a while since I had wielded the sword, but I would do my best. I quickly left the room and changed into my battle attire. I could have sworn I saw her try to catch a glance, but am unsure. When I came out she had changed too and we were both ready to leave.

She thanked me again and we walked of the hall. She then summoned her dread steed. I told her to put it away, we would be riding my mount. I used my summoning stone to bring forth my trusty and rather large mount, Mountain. The young elf's mouth dropped as she stared up at Mountain. The large mammoth was as tall as large as a small house!

I helped her up and when she sat down I immediately snapped the reins and he began to move. She was surprised by his speed, like most people. She screamed and held on tight. I let out a laugh. Luckily the streets were clear and we made it to the dragon hawk master and requested a ride.

When we landed in Andorhal I re summoned Mountain, and reluctantly she got back on. This time Mountain went faster as we headed to the castle of Scholomance. When we arrived we both dismounted and I took out my stone again and sent Mountain back to his home until I would need him again. As we walked through the first portcullis there was not even a sound. The eerie silence only broken by the occasional breeze and breathing from us. The young warlock seemed calmed enough. We opened the gate and began to descend into the depths, That is when I could hear the undead. I first felt them as any paladin can, but then I heard them. There were so many! I drew forth my powerful mace that had served me for years. "Stand back, I do not wish harm to befall you!" I said as I headed toward the undead. "Oh? Is this a sense of love you have towards me?" She said jokingly. I sighed, I do not think I will ever understand women.

I charged in and with the power of the light as well as the strength of my weapon was able to clear the room easily. She followed and began to loot the bodies. I moved on and began clearing room after room. How easily these creatures fell before the power of the light. I smashed through more and with holy wrath destroyed even more. The warlock followed behind me, still looting and searching, as if looking for a particular object. After I had destroyed most of them, the Headmaster himself showed up.

"BY LIGHT BE PURGED!" I shouted as I brought down a massive swing. That one swing crippled him, knocking him to the ground. He tried to launch a bolt of dark energy, but I was faster. I brought the power of the light upon him and he turned to dust on the floor. The warlock then entered and began searching frantically. "Where is the corpse of the headmaster?" She asked hurriedly. I simply pointed to the pile of dust. She immediately fell to the floor and dug through the dust, looking for something. after a few minutes she got up and sighed. "He must have hidden it elsewhere."
"I am sorry" I simply replied.
"It is fine, I shall find it another time. But....thank you. You are truly a powerful paladin. The undead fell before you like flies." She said with some amazement in her voice
"Well, thank you. I have fought many battles and have the experience needed to od such things."
"Well, is there anything I can do for you at all?" She asked with sincere. I sighed and looked over to her summoned demon. I simply pointed and said, "You could put that away." The felgaurd scowled and she quickly replied "Of course!" And with the flick of her wrist the demon was gone.
"Thank you," I replied "Demons make me.....well I just dislike them." She simply nodded back

She began to speak but stopped. She looked a little hesitant as she spoke the next words, "You...are.....the closest thing I've ever had to a friend." I could not hide the shock on my face and to her it must have seemed like a negative thing as she began to quickly walk away. "You seem like a friend as well." I replied. She stopped and turned towards me. I smiled halfheartedly. A sudden look of anger came upon her face, "I do not need you to be my friend out of pity! Paladin." She spat the last word out.
"It is not out of pity!" I shouted "I am reluctant to make friends because of my condition!"
A sudden look of surprise took to her face. I quickly composed myself. "Let us leave here." She nodded in agreement.
As we walked up the stairs I clutched my chest. The pain was intense. I could feel the tendrils of the corruption slowly spreading. It felt like someone had impaled me! Then I fell to my knees and began coughing violently. Blood splattered onto the floor as it shot out of my mouth. The warlock stood over me in horror. It was the first time I had a bout in front of her. I slowly stood up and wiped away the blood.

"I am fine, come let us leave." I said. She grabbed my arm as I began to walk away. "Hold on." She said. She began to chant and brought forth a stone. She walked over to me and placed the stone against my chest. It suddenly sank into my body. It was cold. It felt as if, the stone was holding part of me in it. I began to feel slightly better. Some of the pain had gone as well as I felt like I had more energy. My heavy breathing from the fighting subsided as well. I looked over to her and thanked her. She just smiled back.

When we exited Scholomance she told me about how she wanted to now head to Strathholme and obtain a tome that Lord Aurius Rivendare had. I sighed and agreed again. With that we headed to lights hope.

I had slain Lord Aurius Rivendare shortly after entering and the young elf scoured the body for the tome. "Why must everyone hide everything!" I laughed at her comment , she just glared back at me. We then headed out of that cursed place. I then told her I must go. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.
"Very well." she said and turned her back to me. I simply waved and began to ride off. By the time I had ridden a fair distance I had realized i hadn't even learned her name! I sighed. Oh well I thought. I rode back to silver moon, thinking about the odd elf I had encountered.

Journal of Nicias

I knelt down before Kel today and asked her to be my wife. After recent events, and goading from the recently married groom, I have decided that I will no longer be away from her. We will be strong together and together will be unbeatable! MY brother will not be able to stand in my way! I will also protect kel no mater what, and from anything! I will not see harm come to her! I will become strong, not for myself, but for her. Brother, I am sorry, but I must end your life.

A woman sat up in the cot wearing a long soft gray gown. Long dark brown hair fell about her face and shoulders. It was a little unkempt; she had not been given a brush to smooth the wayward strands. An opportunity to clean up had been promised, but then the young man in the corner cot had gotten violently ill and the medics had to see to him, first.

The room smelled of illness, herbs, and alcohol. The occasional cough or groan could be heard and the soft sound of cloth shoes shuffling across the floor filled the void. The door and windows were open, allowing the sweet smells of grass, fresh air, and flowers to occasionally drift in on the breeze. The woman sitting on the cot in the gray gown looked out an open window wistfully.

A few days ago the bandages that were wrapped around her arm and torso had been removed. A small scab on her left cheek was mending nicely, but it would leave a scar. She had certainly mended well, her wounds closing nicely with the aid of herbs and magical healing. They had offered to seal the cut on her cheek, but were told to leave it.

A statuesque blond stood in the doorway and looked over the small collection of people here, distaste evident in her expression. She was dressed elegantly and looked quite out of place in the hospital. Her long blond tresses were carefully styled, rings adorn her hands, and her nails were manicured. Her eyes fell upon the woman with the long brown hair and the two locked eyes. After a moment, the blonde woman shook her head.

“You are certain you do not know this woman?” the medic asked.

The blonde stared a moment longer, her eyes on a silver chain around the other’s woman’s neck. If there was a pendant there, it was hidden by the gown. The blonde turned away. “No. I do not know her.”

The medic nodded and bid the woman’s retreating back good bye. He turned to the woman sitting on the bed.

“Did she seem familiar?” he nodded to the retreating blonde woman.

The woman sitting on the bed shook her head no.

From outside came the calls to expect more wounded. The scourge had charged up the dead scar and wounded several of the rangers before they were put down. Hearing the shouts drifting in through the open door, the woman swung her legs off the bed, much to the protesting medic.

“I am fine, someone else needs the bed, let them have it,” she told him when he tried to restrain her.

“But you can’t go out there! You have no idea who you are, where you are from…” the medic reached out to take her arm but she just dodge him with an uncanny grace.

“It doesn’t matter what I can and cannot remember,” she said quietly. “You need the bed for someone who is no doubt bleeding and in need of medical attention. I will be fine.”

“I…” the medic looked defeated as a pair of rangers drug in a badly wounded man and laid him on the cot that the woman just vacated. He gave a sigh and gestured helplessly, “Get a journal and start to write. Write down anything and everything. It may help you remember.”

“A journal,” she repeated before gathering her clothing.

1/2

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

Few people can probably remember the day that they started their life. I am one of them. Not that I have an incredible memory, mind you, but rather, I don’t have any memories. I am not alarmed by this, quite the contrary, I am finding it rather liberating; like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Odd, I know.

The only thing I can figure is that I didn’t like the life I had before and somewhere in my subconscious I know that I don’t want to go back. Now, I am a blank slate, an opportunity to be anything or anyone I would like. I don’t intend to pass that opportunity up.

When I came to, I was told that the Farstriders had found me near the Ghostlands at the ruins of the Silverbow Estates during a troll attack. There were several others with me, all of whom perished in the attack or from their wounds soon after. I was the sole survivor simply because a lucky blow to the head had knocked me unconscious. Then the Farstriders came and wrecked whatever plans the trolls had. I woke up battered, bruised, in a hospital in Silvermoon with no idea of how I got there or who I was.

A woman was brought to the hospital today to see if I was a Silverbow —a member of a noble house that I am told, is all but decimated. They are surviving by marrying into another house. The woman who came to see me apparently was dragging her heels until after her wedding. I suppose having an amnesiac relative at her wedding might have been a downer.

She didn’t recognize me but when asked if I knew her, I lied. I couldn’t tell you her name, only that she looked familiar. She wasn’t someone that I thought I liked and honestly, if being a Silverbow means that I need to be like her, I will pass. She didn’t seem eager to claim me and if I didn’t like her, then what was the point of speaking up?

Having no memory allows me to be pragmatic about certain things.

Besides, I don’t like her husband. (I have no clue as to how I know that.)

(This is unsigned.)

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

Sunstrider Isle is the proving grounds for all young sin’dorei. It is here that the stout hearted come to be taught their chosen career and it is here that dreams are made and dashed.

It was here that I proved that I was not meant to be a mage.

I didn’t want to be a mage. I told them that but the mage trainer instantly decided that I was going to her next star pupil.

Oh, how wrong she was.

I feel sorry for her.

Really I do.

After a disastrous half day she finally called it quits on me and someone else stepped up to take her place. Not the warlock trainer; he looked as if he wanted to flee the scene of my magical carnage, but the rogue trainer, Pathstalker Kariel had decided that he saw something in me that he could work with.

Lucky for me, he was right.

Apparently, I have an affinity for blades and small weapons. The rest of the day under the tutelage of the rogue trainer was far more pleasant than the morning and while I was stuck doing small chores around the Isle as payment for my training, I was content with it. There is more out there for me, but for now, this will do.

(This is unsigned.)

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

I have been sent on my way. It seemed obvious to my mentor that I had had previous experience with blades, I only needed some polishing on my technique. Meanwhile, Falconwing Square has called for help concerning the wretched and I have been sent to answer the call. There wasn’t much to do here as I was the fifth person from the Isle to come, so it wasn’t long before I found myself in Fairbreeze Village (where I am now sitting outside on the back stairs). They sent me stalking up the dead scar to help clear out more of the scourge that had wandered in from the Ghostlands.

I have been asked to head to the Farstrider enclave to help push back some trolls. I am not certain if I will go; the idea makes me a little nervous for obvious reasons. That is a decision for later; right now, there are other things that need my attention.

(This is unsigned.)

2/2

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

You promised me that you would protect me.

You swore that you would stay by my side.

The one day I let you work alone, the one time I let you out of my sight.

You left me.

You broke your promise.

But do not worry. I am not angry.

I will never stop missing you.

Keladryn.

[Unsigned]

A deal is struck.

Having ventured into the swamp lands of Dustwallow Marsh in search of crocolisk; for her latest creations of fashionable leatherwear. Quillathe found herself yet again knee deep in mud with a freshly skinned carcass that would go to waste. She had no desire to eat crocolisk again, once was enough! Even her faithful cat would not touch the flesh once it had been contaminated by the swampy water and mud in which it lay. Having skinned all she could carry, Quillathe headed back to Mudsprocket inn.

Leaving a trail of muddy foot prints behind her Quillathe headed to her room to tend to the hides before they started to rot. Before the door could close behind her "Elf!" the familiar voice of Axle the innkeeper came to her ears. Quillathe turned to look back at the goblin at the counter. "Yes?" she replied with an air of grace. Axle's eyes drifted from the bundle of dripping hides thrown over her shoulder, down her mud caked body to her soggy boots and back to the front door. "A packaged arrived... while you were out." He said the latter with a hint of distaste. Dropping the bundle of hides to the floor she returned to the counter. Axle's face cringed as the hides landed with a splash.

Perfect the wedding dress and slippers she had commissioned for Wyndd's wedding had finally arrived! Forgetting all about the bundle of wet hides atop the stairs Quillathe rushed out the door for the flight master's. To her disappointment Dyslix wasn't there only a sign which read: be back soon. After waiting for what seemed like forever Quillathe sighed and returned to the inn.
"Axle, do you know when Dyslix will be back?"
"Soon." the goblin replied without looking up from the floor in which he was still cleaning from the last time the elf had entered his inn.
"But really, how long is soon... for a goblin?"
"What do you mean... for a goblin?" Axle had stopped what he was doing, looking up at the elf and narrowing his eye.
"Well it's just that I haven't seen Dyslix in over 3 days, I'm starting to really worry that he won't return in time." real concern could be heard in her voice.
"In time for what?" replied Axle growing bored with the elf.
"The wedding."
"Well dear, you will just have to wait and see now won't you? in the mean time you might as well put yourself to use and clean the mess you left up stairs." Axle was quite pleased that he wasn't the only one who had been put out.

Worried that she might not return to Silvermoon in time to deliver the dress herself, Quillathe re-wrapped the package and popped it into the mail.

A figure in the corner cleared his throat grabbing Quillathe's attention before walking out from the shadows.
"I couldn't help but overhear. Such a tragedy to miss a wedding... You know I could be of some assistance. I happen to have a flying machine, in which I could drop you in your desired location... for a small fee of course."
Quillathe considered this for a moment and reluctantly reached for her coin purse.
The stranger laughed "No, no, I have no need for your gold. I was thinking more of an exchange of services."
Quillathe raised her eyebrow.
He started to slowly circle around Quillathe looking her up and down as he spoke slyly. "I will fly you to your destination once you have preformed a task suiting a woman of your particular nature."
Deciding she had quite had enough of this Quillathe turned to walk away.
He laughed again "now, now, no need to think like that. I only ask you to use your unique skills to track someone for me." He extended a hand. "So, do we have a deal?"
After a moments pause "Deal." She shook his hand before leaving to gather her things.

The wedding.

There was no time to track anyone down and get to the wedding in time so a new agreement had been struck. Once the wedding celebrations were over she would track down the so called thief.

Stepping off the flying machine Quillathe noticed just how dirty she was. How could she have expected anything else after trekking through a swamp for a week. Quickly grabbing a bouquet of flowers for Wyndd before checking into an inn to clean and change.

Quillathe couldn't believe how late she was. Had it really taken her that long to get ready!? No time to think now. She mounted he hawkstrider and rode through town. Reaching her destination in the nick of time. As quickly and quietly as she could she handed over the bouquet of flowers before moving out of the way.

The service was nice and intimate. How happy the two of them looked and how fitting that Kel'Tira be the one to do the honours of uniting them. After the ceremony Quillathe had a chance to let Wyndd know just how beautiful she looked and pleased she was that the dress fit so perfectly. Before heading off to join the main party at the reception she took a moment to introduce herself to members of the fellowship that she hadn't meet before.

The reception didn't quite go as she had imagined. It had started out pleasant enough. But turned ugly when Kel'Tira had been upset to a point that she had to remove herself from the group. Feeling she should not be left alone Quillathe followed. Although she was trying her best to comfort Kel'Tira with empty words, Quillathe was slightly relived when Nicias turned up to take over. It was his fault after all. By the time she had returned to the reception table Wyndd and Varus were leaving for their honeymoon. Taking a seat beside Mia to exchange a few words before heading off herself. The celebrations were over she had other tasks to attend to now.