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An overly ornate tome with fresh paper and flowing script contains the secret thoughts of An'giel, the last Truesong... has been burned. All past thoughts lost, she grabbed up a new tome, this one black leather bound and sealed with silver gilded pages. There is no trace of the owner's name and each word is written in scarlet ink.

I am not who I say I am. I am not who you think I am. Sometimes, I'm not even certain what I will become, but I will not perish in vain.

I stayed by the grave until the sun was setting. Forcing myself to move was the most soul-tearing experience I had experineced in a long while. My hatred continues to burn, my anger has not diminished in the least, but I know I must become smarter than before.

I am to speak to one of the Fellowship about a personal matter. I am not certain if I ought to simply mail her and hope for a response, but I will take my time. Only half a week left to go until I speak to a healer, first. That is far more important, as I don't see myself repeating past mistakes so readily. If I am confirmed to be infected, I will have no need for an alchemist's assistance in any event.

My little one. She doesn't understand why I am doing what I am, or understand how much more clear my mind is. It is as if I was standing before shattered glass and finally thrust my fist through it to shatter and see the world far more clearly, now.

It is a cold wind that greets me. And I know that I am, once again, alone.

I can't help at feel some past paranoia still grip me, some lingering hint of that former despair from losing him. It continues to plague my mind from that moment of fighting with and mocking the first to tear me from the corpse. A feeling that I ought to be searching for something. But what?

What do you want from me, from beyond the grave?

I will continue to monitor the world, but it is a frozen land I see, just as cold as my heart feels now.

I feel the urge to stain it with blood once again... But is that what you want?

Guide me... I do not look to nature or the Light in this... I need your help.

[Unsigned]

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Border of Zangarmarsh and Hellfire Peninsula

What is it about this place? Hellfire seems desperate, and Zangarmarsh... Zangarmarsh is mirroring my own mood right now. Rain falls constantly, the air is damp and the whole place is green and wet. Already my armor is caked with mud and my whole self is covered in the thick, green-tinted slime.

Light, at least I will not be here too much longer...

I miss Nic, I need to talk to him.

Settling at the Inn in Grommash Hold, Mia took a few moments to write in her journal. The script a bit unsteady as she tried not to jar the stitches on her arm. The gash was mending, but it ached a bit, as wounds do when still fresh.

May 1

I am saddened by the loss of yet another of our Fellowship. Angiel seems shaken to her core...it seems odd she never seemed to care for her companion when he dogged her footsteps and tried to be there for her. So often one does not know what they had...until it is gone.

The mourning and grieving members of the Fellowship go off on journeys of their own now. Tyrael seems distracted, I miss the comfort of his strong arms around me. He did not even seem to notice I had regained my sight. I thought he cared for me...making promises and pretty words. Perhaps this thing with the death knight has him worried as well.

I do not know how long it will take, but I am determined to hold this Fellowship together and go after this death knight. I am not foolish enough to tackle him alone. I need more information...how does one defeat a death knight? What is their weakness...there must be something I can concentrate on to help me to be stronger. I need a companion to stay by my side and help me to learn.

Aranthil has offered to coach me...though I fear for his health. He has some sort of corruption...it eats away at him from within. I will search for answers to cure his condition. It pains me to see him suffer, he is selfless and giving, a paladin who truly cares. He is alone and wanders in from time to time to heal and offer words of wisdom. I appreciate his kindness, though I am afraid some will take advantage of him and use him for their own ends.

I wish I could understand why Tyr goes off on his own...he says he cares...but where is he now? Off in Ungoro...chasing dinosaurs...while I fight demons...in the Blasted Lands. I will not pressure him..perhaps he only sought to console me when I was down. He is handsome and brave, a strong leader and skilled warrior. Maybe he will think of me...after he has done what he needs to do. Perhaps I will simply fade from his thoughts...I will be strong on my own...I have to be...or perish...like Kara Vaelia did.

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

I went to the Farstrider Enclave today and killed my fair share of trolls. It was a good bounty for each kill, so I spent the afternoon there, skulking about in the shadows and picking quite a few of them off. That completed, I opted to head back to Silvermoon. My bags were full and I was tired of sleeping on the ground. I had made enough coin to warrant a comfortable bed for the night.

Tonight was cool, pleasant and after a rather tasty meal, I opted to sit outside in the twilight for awhile. I had been sitting quietly for perhaps close to an hour before I realized that someone was watching at me. A tall man was standing near the bank and had his gaze firmly fixed on my location. After a moment he turned fully towards me, almost as if he recognized me and took a step forward. I got up and walked off, not waiting to see what else he would do. He didn’t follow. Once I had reached my room, I closed and locked the door.

The next day as I was leaving my mentor’s studio, I saw the blonde woman from the hospital standing in Murder Row and looking quite out of place and more than uncomfortable. She turned her head when she saw me and frowned. I simply melted away into the shadows and disappeared. I didn’t like the way she looked at me and I didn’t like the feeling I was getting from her.

I decided that I wasn’t going to be bothered by her. I had been given a temporary position in the Northern Barrens helping them cull the quillboar population. Someplace new to go, something new to do.

[end entry, it is unsigned]

A woman stood at the zeppelin dock by the Undercity, her brown hair pulled back in a pony tail. She wore leather clothing and a pair of short swords rested at her hips. A forsaken shuffled up beside her, setting his bag on the dock next to hers. He bid her hello in a hollow voice before collapsing down in a heap of bones to rummage through his bag.

Eventually he stood up and glanced around with what might have been a frown—except that his lower jaw seemed to be missing—before addressing the goblin who was staring out over the edge of the dock with a bored expression. After being told that no, this was not the zeppelin to Stranglethorn Vale, the forsaken nodded and moved on up the staircase to the correct dock.

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

Tirisfal Glades has got to be the creepiest place that I have ever been. The whole of it is bathed in perpetual twilight and I have the constant feeling of being watched. Things slither in the bushes—things you catch out of the corner of your eye—when you try to focus on them, they are gone. The fog seems to have a life of its own, wrapping itself around your boots as you walk. It is thick, almost as if once it gets a hold of you, you won’t be able to move.

While I cannot say whether or not I have ever ridden a zeppelin before, I can say that my stomach didn’t much care for it. I spent the first part of the trip rather ill and I honestly cannot say if it were the zeppelin or the food that I brought with me as it had gone bad. After that first bite, I spit it out and dumped the rest over the side when no one was looking.

While on the zeppelin, I was able to see both the sun set over the water of the ocean and the sun rise over it. It was one of the most beautiful things that I had ever seen. Watching the sun disappear in a shimmering sea of red and orange, almost as if it were sinking into the water and catching it on fire was breath taking.

Then we hit Orgrimmar and there is nothing enchanting about that. The orcs could use some architecture tips from Silvermoon but I am certain that that is a conversation that will go nowhere fast.

Time to put this up, my caravan to the Crossroads has arrived and my short stent there is about to begin.

[end entry, it is unsigned]

The woman was now sitting on the moving zeppelin writing in a journal. Finishing, she took a moment to blow on the freshly written page. After a short while, she turned to the front of the journal and ran her fingers over the words written there. After a few moments she reached up to the edge of the page and began to tear it out of the book, then stopped after a short tear. She stared at the page for a moment longer before she folded the page over and creased it before shutting the journal and placing it in her bag.

The dark tome was leather and bound with runes of magic that glowed with a fel green tint. No one but Viragona would be able to open it or even decipher it. Written in the stylish ancient script of the Sindorei, it details her experiments and experiences. Many pages are filled with pictures of ancient symbols and flowing acript.

Day twenty seven, of the second harvest month.

Today marked a milestone in my work. The one known as Aranthil is kind to me...I do not know why. Most abhor the art of my Master, the control of demons and use of the corrupting magic and...shadow...delightful...delicious...shadow.

But he is suffering..a deep corruption has entered his body..placed there by a talented necromancer with the aid of a powerful demon. His body is in great pain, the corruption causes him to cough and discharge blood from his lungs. If it is not stopped he will die soon, and his soul will be lost.

I offer my knowledge of the Shadow, and give him hope. To Scholomance we travel, in hopes of discovering a secret to end his suffering. The undead and demons guard many treasures. His gallantry to protect me is astounding, his sword flashes in brilliant Light. The undead are mown down like stalks of wheat in the fields.

He fights gallantly, the Holy Light shines in his eyes and flashes from his fingers. He can barely breathe at times, yet he will not allow me to suffer a single injury. He is wise and gentle, his words of kindness have touched me in ways I never thought would happen.

In desparation to keep him going I offer him a gift he is reluctant to accept. A piece of my soul is wrapped in a shred of his, I draw it out of him as he passes by me in his zeal to protect. Embedded in a purple ball of Shadow, I press my hand on his chest and seal away the corruption for a time, though this will not last, it too, will be eaten away in time.

I must help him, if nothing else ...it is a study in control...how to slow the cooruption and bleed it off. We search the ancient school of Scholomance, tomes of magic and necromancy...demons and Scourge alike protect the knowledge...but it is mine at last.

The tome is black with red glowing letters, different than the rest...I hide it in my packs and scurry around behind the paladin as he mows down the mobs of undead and demon alike. He is so caught up in the slaughter he did not notice my find. My fingers ache to turn the pages and discover the secrets.

Day thirty, of the second month of harvest

Aranthil is worse, his respite is temporary as I twine our souls together with Shadow. Each time I do this I learn more about him and his ways. His kindness and selfless devotion to duty inspire me.

The tome tells of three things that are needed for the ritual to work. One is the essence of the corrupted dragons living in the Swamp. I lead him to the Swamp of Sorrows to the Sunken Temple. He detests the smell, and I cannot help but smirk at his sensitivity. We have to dive underwater to find the entrance to the hidden temple. Inside the dragons swarm us, they use magic and claw, their jaws and weapons filled with poisons.

But we are triumphant and emerge from the waters finally with the needed ingredients. There is much treasure in the ruins and we head back to the glory of Silvermoon, our packs laden with items to sell. His cough and weakness are holding us back. I insist he rest and we will seek out the rest of my needs on the morrow.

Day one of the first month of Renewal.

I bide my time, joining this Fellowship has given me a new past time. Listening to gossip and watching the interactions is fascinating. It serves as a distraction from my growing concern. In spite of my efforts, Aranthil is not recovering as I had hoped.

I need to complete the final step...he will not like it...I know he will fight it...but it is his only hope. Even now...as I write this he coughs and wheezes in the other room. He does not have much time...neither do I.

With cheerful encouragement I coax him to take me to the Blasted Lands. He wants to know what is there I need. I tell him it is my turn for rewards...and he rolls his eyes. We fight the demons and kill many. Gathering the horns and tails for future use I follow him closely. The largest demon I have seen yet in these lands is a tough battle. But he triumphs as I knew he would.

As he knelt to check the demon for loot he hesitates. When I came to him I saw it...the perfect weapon to absorb the corruption. A giant axe with blood red handle and thick sharp blade has been dropped by the demon. I tell him to pick it up...almost afraid of what will happen when his Holy energy touches the fel.

He yelped in pain as he touched the axe...as I suspected he would. But he held it and hefted the magnificent axe with ease. I could see the fel smoke rising from the weapon and I bid him to hold it just a bit longer. Perspiration dripped from my brow as I bid the Felguard under my control to continue slaying his kindred. I reached out with strength of will and determination, the demons who fell to my Felguard gave up their essence to my power.

Drawing the fel energy and twisting it with Shadow I worked fast, the combination working smoothly. Aranthil gritted his teeth in anguish as the axe fought his control. As he stumbled and fell to the ground I completed the gathering. Instructing him to open his chest armor and lay on his back... he did so, the axe still clutched in his hand.

I approached him and with little warning about the pain I would be visiting on him, I laid my hand on his chest. The other hand on the axe over his. He screamed in agony, the pain so great he nearly passed out. But it was over in a few seconds and I stood back. Quickly casting the Shadow protection spells and readying myself for his reaction.

His eyes glowed red and he turned to me with the intent to kill. I was prepared and cast a weakness spell on him and a ball of Shadow to slow his advance. The felguard leaped in front of me to protect me and they fought for several minutes. His rage was great and I thrilled to see the strength in his arms inspite of my weakness curse.

He fought all of my demons to a standstill before I could summon enough fel energy to stop him in his tracks. "You are mine...and I am now your Master...cease your struggle." he looked at me with horror and a dawning realization. The axe was now bound to him and he could wield it without pain.

"I am NOT your slave! I refuse to obey!" he yelled fiercely. It took me another hour to make him realize he was wrong. I had control now...he obeyed me...but he swore he would be free one day.

"You ungrateful wretch! I saved your life! I sacrificed a bit of my soul to fight that corruption, I have sealed it to the axe and bonded it to you. The corruption bleeds off into the axe and is discharged into your enemies. Your life is mine!"

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Shattrath

My head... Light it aches... But... Yesterday is mostly back into focus. Everything is perfectly clear up until that fight I got into... I will start with the morning.

I met Nic in Silvermoon. It took a great deal of strength to speak of my past... The pain and fear... When he realized, from my circumspect way of speaking about it, what had happened, he was vengeful. This is one of the reasons I love him, I think. The gentleness in his voice and hands when he rose belied the fire in his eyes as he ran his hand over the scar on my neck from that night.

Later, before I had to leave, he pulled me near and placed a hand over the scar... His words stood out to me, as much for the emotion in his eyes when he said them as for their meaning, "Love, just like my hand covers your scar, my love shall cover all your pain."

However regretfully I took my leave from him, I was happier than I had been in days. Seeing him tends to do that to me.

Terokar forest is much preferable to to Hellfire and Zangarmarsh, and it is there that I spent the rest of my day. Killing... Sometimes I wonder why...

I was in Shattrath, in the World's End Tavern. A group of people, clearly drunks, came in and began to make trouble. I would have been content to ignore them and remain ignored in turn, until they began to drag me into it.

"Hey, sweetheart!"
"Yeah, honey, come have a drink!"
"We'll show you a good time!"

The last was said with a leer, a hand gesture, and greeted by guffaws from his companions. Once I refused, things started getting more violent. I am proud to say that I got more than a few good blows in, but five powerful Orcs, even drunk, were more than a match for me. No one else seemed all too keen to jump into the brawl, either.

Mine were not the worst injuries when I limped away, but the barstool had left quite a lump on my head, and if the way it hurt to breathe was any indication, my ribs were broken when they slammed me forward, bent over the table.

They tried... and failed. Even the drinking patrons, betting on the outcome of the fight, would not have stood for something so unsavory as... that.

How ironic is it that I had a conversation with Nic about that kind of thing earlier?

The ogre stepped in, breaking up the fight, and sending us all out the door. I only made it a short way, I think, before I collapsed.

When I awoke, it was to pain, and the dull thump of a boot in my already-broken ribs. I screamed, and cursed, and looked up to find a trio of humans. Bastards thought an injured Elf would be fun to play with. I could not stand, let alone stop them, so I was forced to lay there and endure their kicks until they grew bored and moved on.

What I would have done to have Nic by my side... But it is my own pride that led me to tell the whole Fellowship that I would be fine. And now I suppose I am, courtesy of the Broken healer whom happened to take interest in the slumped, bloodied form in the corner of the Lower City. He healed me, even fixed my concussion, and said he would send word to the Naaru of what went on in their city that night.

Anything was better than sitting in that city, and I left, my head still aches some, and my ribs are tender, but that has not stopped me from donning armor again and returning to the wilds of the land to fight...

(Sketches of Shattrath, and Nicias fill the rest of the page.)

I am a fool. I was too kind. Oh light, why have you forsaken me. I have fought demons, I have slain followers of Death wing. I have stood up to some of the strongest creatures in all of Azeroth! Yet...I end up some little warlocks pet! Every day I feel my will leaving me. Yes, she made me better, but at the cost of my freedom? What else does she have planned for me? I will find a way out of this! I shall contact someone of the order and have them look into this....embarrassment. I am a high paladin, not a pet!

(the next journal date is set to one week later)

I..oh light! I can feel it. my free will is slipping away. Even now I have a desire to serve! Whenever she asks me to do something, there is always a strong urge to obey, and when I do obey, it feels....good! OH light please give me strength. What have I done to deserve all this! Who knows what she will ask of me next?! Would she ever ask me to betray the order..or worse yet betray the light? If she does, I shall end my life. I will never betray the light. I would sooner die than hurt an innocent! Light please give me strength

(the final entry is set to two days later)
I do not know how much longer I can resist. The urge is strong. I have resisted for as long as possible, but I feel even I am at my limit. Every time I resist I feel weaker. She just smiles at me! She even told me not to hate her! Gah! If I ever escape this, I shall never again help others! I understand now. I understand why other paladins are hesitant, I understand clearly. I shall turn my power of holy healing back. I shall be a sword once again. I will close the walls of my heart, I will harden my heart as stone! Compassion, bah! It is what brought me to this, what made me weak! yes, I shall......(writing is all scribbled)

Curses, What am I thinking! that axe! It is corrupting my thoughts! Cursed thing! Always talking to me, always telling me to kill. Always trying to influence. I...I would do almost anything to make those voices stop. Oh light, why have you forsaken me......(a single tear drop mark is on the page.)

New entry in a plain brown leather journal

I have learned an important limitation: I am unable to take a full force blow.

I was sent out after an ogre today that had been picking off the local population. While I thought this would be an easy mark, I was proved wrong. My initial strike was clean, but my daggers were unable to penetrate far enough to the overweight ogre’s body to really do much damage. He retaliated to my affront on his life by swinging down his axe—surprisingly fast—and catching my side.

Luck was with me, as his blade was slightly tilted and it was the flat of the blade that impacted me. Unfortunately it was enough to break a rib and send me flying across the room like a child’s ball into a pile of crates. I was able to hide from the ogre who couldn’t find me in the debris and then distract him with a thrown piece of wood to look in the other direction so I could make my way out of the hovel and into the open. I needed to rethink my plan and my weapons.

Exchanging the dagger for a short sword was easy enough, at which point, the ogre proved to no match for the longer weapon. I’ll have to keep that in mind when choosing which weapon to use against my next target.

Curious enough, I found an odd stone near the hovel. I can only figure that the ogre found it somewhere and picked it up. Someone talked to me through it, apparently having heard the entire fight with the ogre. It is some type of communication device. Admittedly, it took me a moment to realize that magic was at work—I am certain that there is a joke in there somewhere—but I did meet a few new people. I can only tell of one name, Angiel, since she is the only who said who she was.

Another woman spoke of something called the Fellowship—a group of people who support each other and work together when needed. At the moment, I am alone in the world—or at least I think I am—so some acquaintances might be nice. She told me how to turn the thing off, which I did… without telling them who I am or without them telling me where to take the thing, but I was hurt and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed.

I suppose I should turn it back on sometime soon.

My assumption would be that they would at least want to meet me in person before accepting me into the Fellowship. I certainly want to meet at least some of them.

And they might want their stone back.

But back to the ogre; I realized that I need to improve how well I can take a full body blow and come up at least on my knees rather than on my back and avoid more broken ribs. Ending up on my back is a good way to die. At least if I can learn to soften my fall and come up on my knees where I can easily get up from a prone position, I stand a better chance at getting out alive. Perhaps it is time to head back to Silvermoon and speak with my old mentor about these things.

(This is unsigned)

All past thoughts lost, she grabbed up a new tome, this one black leather bound and sealed with silver gilded pages. There is no trace of the owner's name and each word is written in scarlet ink.

I am not who I say I am. I am not who you think I am. Sometimes, I'm not even certain what I will become, but I will not perish in vain.

My thoughts had finally settled and the pain continues to ease it day. I have accepted this fate, both new and old. My lonliness sated only by the occasional contact with others, though I do not linger long. My attitude towards them is far easier to control, my anger far easier to mask now. I do the one thing that he always hated: I lie. Often, I lie. I lie about who I am. I act pleasant as you please.

It makes me sick.

---

I finally have waited long enough for the test to be conducted. Though it was far earlier than I was requested to return, I figured half a week was good enough. I have an important life to lead, knowing if I was contaminated will affect the rest of my natural lifespan, and I have every right to know.

Perhaps because of, or in spite of my words, the healers accepted my early return, though I was given more than one strange glance. But my words are true. This is a sickness, a contamination, one which can be as fatal as the plague and will surely try my will and spirit.

But, I have told him once before how I will lead my life if I am ill. And he agreed that my route, though far from conventional and extremely dangerous, was the only one for me.

It was either that or I cut myself open and the last thing I need is yet another pointless scar to tell yet another pointless story.

Perhaps the leader is right. Mourning is pointless. I ought to move on as if nothing is wrong.

What an idiot.

---

And the results have returned. I feel like vomiting. My world is spinning out of control.

It was one night. One too many drinks.

And an idiot who thought pulling out actually works.

Oh, you are lucky you are dead, for I would surely kill you for doing this to me.

My path is set, however, and my focus is clear.

I will drop the leader to his knees and the assassin shall lose his head.

Any threat to me or those around me shall be eliminated. I simply need to see that the Fellowship has a better to follow in place of the one I plan to break.

And I do not have long to accomplish my goals.

[Unsigned]

Mia sat in the small barracks area of Dreadmall Hold. Tyrael was long gone and she wondered where he had gone. It had been heavenly to lie beside him as he slept. He dozed off before she could tell him....yes she did want him that way...but he was very tired and in need of healing.

The morning had come and she was alone...again. Her Journal was neat and organised. This entry she hoped he would never see.

Day 2 - month of Renewal.

Tyrael...I dream of you night and day..you have captured my heart..I would do anything for you...follow you into Hades...even put myself in harm's way to keep you safe.

This death knight..Tai Stronghammer...will die...but I must not lead the others to their deaths. We must all be stronger...we must work together...we must find a weakness of this killer and put him down.

I wonder if that Outlaw Lord Imperon knows of the death knight? It seems likely that he will gravitate to the one place that accepts his skill and thirst for blood. I have heard many things..some good...some bad...this Imperon Showdah is powerful and has a huge standing army. But I am told he has honor...I am tempted to send him a letter, asking him if he knows that Tai Stronghammer is a ruthless killer with NO honor. A tiny bit of a seed to place doubt in the minds of those who offer Stronghammer refuge.

Day 2 of the month of Renewal

I have finally done it...the slave is mine...he obeys my every command. I broke his will and he pleases me greatly with his devotion. This is far better than the demons...his ability to heal and fight off my foes makes him indespensible. Now I can go after my big prize...I will have the most powerful demon at my command...if I am successful.

These members of the Fellowship are so naive...they think I am just another warlock with ordinary powers. They toy with words and mock each other...it seems odd to me why they are even together as a unit...I met a few of them.

They speak of this death knight that stalks them...how pathetic! They do not know I have the power to defeat him...but I have no reason to go after him...it is their problem, not mine.

In a small alcove in Silvermoon City, a slender mage writes in her Journal.

I do not know what has happened to Ikthael...he has disappeared yet again. The nerve of him!! Leading me on and giving me such pleasure...then disappearing into the smoke of his profession.

I cannot trust he will return...I will find someone else to toy with...anything is better than that old Magister my father wants to marry me of to. I wish I could find someone strong enough... and handsome enough and yes...brave enough...to stand up to father and Tyrael...Dalen I seldom see...but he is so busy tracking that death knight.

The death knight...dangerous and foolish if he thinks to tangle with the Firehawk family. He would not stand a chance if father, Dalen and the rest of the Fellowship were to actually get it together...and kill him!

I am bored...time to find a lover...and a friend...maybe both in the same elf? Ikky...where are you?

Nicias' journal

I sent kel some soap on a rope as a sort of joke. She kept complaining about how disgusting the Zangamarsh was so I thought some soap would help. I hope she does not take it too seriously. But I do miss her. Oh, my fiancee, when will we meet again, how I miss you.

Aranthil was on both knees on the ground, holding himself up for support. He panted heavily, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Vira just stood there smiling. Aranthil couldn't believe her! This elf, no, this creature! She had been draining his will the whole time! Now she even kissed him! Aranthil had broken his thumb to try and resist the temptation, yet that only seemed to inspire vira more! Aranthil was almost completely drained, his remaining will power only being a sliver.

Vira walked away, heading inside Dreadmaul hold. Aranthil filled with rage. This woman had no respect for the light, she even degraded a paladin so! I cannot forgive her he thought. Aranthil rose, gripping the demonic axe as he stood. He walked towards her, rage filled him completly. He brought forth the power of the light and it filled him. He neared her and raised his axe to strike her down. She just laughed and extended her hand to the mark on his chest and said a quick incantation. the last of Aranthil's energy was drained and he fell to the floor, slipping into unconsciousness.

Aranthil awoke to see that all his armour had been removed and all he wore were his under shorts. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound. He stared chicked at a smiling vira. "Well hello, glad to see your awake." She said smiling.
"Vira!" Aranthil shouted, rather desperatly, "You take this too far! Unbind me!"
"Now where would be the fun in that?" vira said, rubbing her hands along his bare chest.

Aranthil struggled desperatly trying to rip free of his bindings, but he was too tired. He had been drained from earlier and was now unable to muster the strength he needed. Vira kept smiling, rubbing her hand along his body. Aranthil felt her slowly draining his will...again! She slowly brought her face near his and stared at him smiling.
"Aranthil, don't you want to kiss me again?" She whispered into his ear. She used her magics and tried to impose her will upon him.
"Dam you! I...Will ..NOT!" Aranthil brought forth the light to protect him in his time of need and a shield of light encircled aranthil, pushing Vira off.
"Fine, then I shall just eat your soul!" Vira said glaring at aranthil. She began to drain his soul as soon as the shield wore off. Yet Aranthil would not have it. Using the last of his energy to save himself, He brought forth a massive amount of light and had it infuse with his soul. The warlock stopped immediatly. She smiled back.

"Ah I managed to get a sliver...and i must say you soul is delicious!"
"My soul is my own! It belongs to the light, none may have it!
"We shall see." She says smiling back at him.
Again she nears his lips with hers. "Come on Aranthil don't you want to kiss me?" and again she uses her magic and tries to impose her will on Aranthil. With all his will power drained, aranthil begins to move towards her lips. In a last ditche effort to fight back, he bits his lips, hoping the pain will help hold him back. It seems to do the opposite as it makes vira seem more excited. Blood begins to pool around Aranthil's lips. Vira kissed him then, sucking on his bleeding lip as she did.

That is the moment it happened. Aranthils willpower completly fell and he gave in, unable to resist her. He kissed her back. She untied him then, "Ah it seems you have finally gave in. good."
Aranthils arms fell down, too tired to move them. Vira kissed him again and he slowly embraced her. Aranthil gave up, unable to fight anymore. All through the night she used him, He had broken his vow of chastity, He would never forgive her.

The once-white leather cover of the journal has been splashed with mud and blood, the wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark.

Kel'Tira Sunblaze

Garadar

When I woke this morning, Nic was already gone. I cannot say I am surprised, I did not really expect him to stay until I rose, as I slept much longer than I would have normally, but still... I had hoped. When I woke, the first thing I did was roll over and reach for him. The place in the hammock where he had lain beside me last night was cool, his warmth not there.

I hope he is not upset that we did not get to eat together last night... Falling asleep next to him... I have never slept deeper than I did last night. I honestly cannot remember the last time I slept without fear of danger...

He is so gallant, too. As I explained about the incident in Shattrath, he threatened to go after the Orcs and Humans that did it to me.

I truly do not see how I deserve him, but I am glad that I have him. I will never let him go.

Tracking a thief

Quillathe had reached the stables at which her faithful companions had been staying. Her 'friend' from the Marsh was there leaning on a post.

He looked up at her with a grin as she approached "Didn't think you would get rid of me that easily did you? A deals a deal. I hope you enjoyed your celebrations as you have your work cut out for you now."

He handed her a sack "Inside are all the necessities you will require for your task, including a communication stone. I am at your disposal should you require anything else. Otherwise I look forward to hearing from you once they are found." With that he walked away.

Quillathe set to the task at hand. Days passed before she finally pulled the communication stone from thes ack and tapped it. "I have found what you were looking for, I'll be waiting for your arrival. Andorhal inn, Western Plaguelands."

The sun had long set before he walked into the candle lit room in which Quillathe had been waiting.

"Took you long enough, shall we?" She said as she rose from her seat. He followed her outside into the bitter cold. They did not speak during their walk down the road south east across the bridge and into Sorrow Hill. Quillathe stopped and waived her had in the direction of the large crypt "Voila."

"Nicely done. But are you sure they are still inside?" He questioned her.

With that she slapped her hand on her thigh twice. He took a step back as a black lion seemed to appear out of nowhere stretching his hind legs. "I'm sure." she said with certainty." Now that our deal is complete I have no need of this." She said as she tossed the sack, communication stone and all at his feet and turned to walk away.

Before Quillathe had taken more than three steps her sly friend had picked up the communication and with lightning reflects and a light hand he had managed to place it into a pocket of Quillathe's backpack without her noticing.

A grin broke across his face as he though how useful she could be in the future. And with that in mind he turned his thoughts back to the crypt.

The journal of Lilli Firehawk

How do I get into these things? All I wanted was a little fun...a little entertainment..not like I am any different from any of the rest of the family...

Where does that Tyrant think he is going with this? Tell my father? Sure go and tell the one who has three misstresses on the side that I am aware of...and Mother? I know she is seeing someone...that dreamy look when Lord Blackgammon is mentioned...

How dare he assume I am any different? I am just following Sindorei customs, like any noble of the family...I follow my heart and dreams...sometimes I get distracted...Ikthael is...something...special. I know he has had lots of girls...he boasts about them all the time...but why does he look at me that way? Am I imagining he has actual feelings for me?

Karamia says I am a fool, that Ikky is just toying with me. I thought he was too...but he jumped right in front of that Yeti...he saved my life...he could have just disappeared...

I told them all...I was pregnant...hoping to end the discussion...for one moment I saw something in his eyes...Ikky was looking right at me when I said it...there was a flicker...of something...was that happiness? Shock? Hope?...Terror? Or all of the above?

Of course I am not...I am a skilled alchemist...I know the recipe...I make the potions and sell them all the time...I remember to take my proper dose...at least I think I did...

Journal of Karamia

How often have I heard him say it? He says he will stay by my side...protect me...keep me safe. And then he goes off again...by himself to fight some death knight...the blasted fool is going to get himself killed!

And where does that leave me? Alone and heartbroken..but he may be just saying these things because he thinks he is supposed to say them. He tries so hard to do everything by himself. He is not a bad leader. He has a lot to learn...he needs to give some responsibilities to others.

If I learned one thing today...it is that the Firehawk family is fiercely loyal to each other...even if they disagree. Dalen is trying to fix something for his cousin Lilli. Tyrael is trying to bully her and protect her...though I think he tries to hard.

Lilli...my heart goes out to her. She thinks that Ikthael loves her. That scamp is such a devil...he plays with her heart like a violin. No doubt she is infatuated with his wit and charm. But who is he really? Does he care for her? I do hope that ends well, I hear that the Firehawk family goes after anyone who messes with their prized females. Are they that set in their ways? Does love mean nothing to them?

Day 5 of the month of Renewal

I am so close...the Portal beckons and I am excited to see it. Everyday I see those who come and go...what lies beyond the swirling energy? I must be prepared...I have my slave now...he is so devoted. He kneels to me and calls me Master. He kills anything I point him to. He rushes to protect me.

I have him at my mercy...such a fine slave he is...strong and brave...handsome and ...very...delightful at night. I made a good choice. Lets hope he holds up...when I call forth the demonlord.

Such power will be mine! I will strike terror into all who oppose me! I am strong willed..I have the Shadow at my call and now...the Light of the paladin who is my slave. No one will stop me!