World of Warcraft®

((Journal thread #1 http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4365750120?page=1

OOC thread #1 http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4363778667?page=1

OOC thread #2 http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/5912661507?page=1))

In the quiet of the Hall, a woman sleeps haphazardly on one of the stacks of pillows, clearly she did not intend to sleep, for her armor is stacked nearby, and her street-clothes are wrinkled and bunched uncomfortably. Strawberry hair spreads in a sort of halo around Kel'tira Sunblazes face, her mouth half-open as she mutters something in her sleep and rolls over, a hand curled into a fist on the ground beside her nest of pillows.

The Rising Sun Fellowship's leader snorts slightly and jerks awake, sitting upright and clamping a hand over her jaw to muffle a scream. Glancing around her, she curses softly, still breathing heavily, and rubs her temples, exhausted.

Hauling herself to her feet, the Blood Elf glances at her disheveled self in a mirror distastefully and rakes a long-fingered hand through her hair before going about the task of donning her armor silently.

The painstaking task complete, Kel retrieves her black, worn journal from the floor and secures it in the outside pocket of her pack, her guildstone being placed in a pocket at her shoulder. Satisfied, the paladin shrugs into her armor more comfortably and exits as silently as she came, ghosting through the pre-dawn Silvermoon and slipping out the gates, the stable-boy with her mount meeting her.

Left behind in the Hall, a strip of parchment flutters in the air as the city awakens slowly, the graceful script that is Kel's handwriting covering the page neatly, the document left for all who visit the Hall to see.

My friends, my family, my people. My sisters and brothers, my companions, comrades, and helpers. Stand strong. Stand tall. Face down fate with bold steps and bolder words. Let none disgrace us, our Fellowship. Let us stand in the face of the unknown, with only each other to guide us, to help us. Let our bonds be strong, let our friendship be fast.

Let the events of the days that we endure bind us together in heart, body, and mind. Let our goals become one and the same, let our sorrows be lightened by sharing, and our joys increased tenfold by friends.

Step away from the pain and suffering, and embrace the joy, the love, the laughter, that we bring to one another. Remember always our code, remember always why we stand united.

Valor. Loyalty. Love. Piety.

Remember the dead, but let them go, learn from the past, lest it be repeated again.

"We must be strong individually so we can be invincible together."

Light bless you, and Light guard us, that we may be the best we can be.

For the glory of the Horde, for the glory of the Rising Sun Fellowship!

Alongside the poster is a wooden board, scarred and burnt, the wood soft, clearly meant to be used to communicate with others in the case they cannot be reached in person or over the guildstones. Currently, the only thing on the board is a smaller sheet of paper written in a neat, square print, it is a list of names and a word or sentence alongside each.

The lost endure in our hearts, our minds, honor their memories.

Kara Vaelia -- Yetimus

Traly Song -- Murlocs

Keladryn -- Falling off of a cliff

Tyrael Firehawk -- Demons

The Sunblaze child -- Who could have been raised one of us.

Kel'thul -- Who despite all he did to us redeemed himself.

Holding the strip of parchment to the wood is a stylized dagger, the connection of the hilt and the blade circular, the hilt itself curving fancifully towards the blade, the three lines forming a heavily idealized rising sun. The whole knife is drenched crimson with dye, and a red gem winks from the pommel.

A new small leather bound journal.

It is late night, or rather early morning, in Silvermoon City, and the figure at the fighting dummies works out at a frantic pace. He moves swiftly between the five dummies staked out in the practice area. He spins, dives, dodges and slashes at the silent figures. He too is silent, the only sounds are the heavy hits of his weapons upon the manikins of straw and wood. Finally, one more slash, and the Sindorei walks away from the manikins, a multitude of scars and scratches score the five drooping dummies.

My body is back in sync, I can tell by the way it moves, and does not cry out in pain. I am ready to return to Northrend. I look forward to the harsh climate, and hostile forces waiting to meet my blades. The wildness of the place excites me like no other in Azeroth. It has an exotic beauty all of its own, and I like that too. I feel alive out there.

However, I have one mission to fulfill here yet. I need to find my sister, Kel'tira, and have a dialog with her. Just the two of us, and hopefully we can find ourselves once again. I know I have an apology for her...and we shall move on. I have missed her the past few days.

I will make a detour to Hearthglen tonight before my journey to Northrend. And see what accommodations they may have for our wedding. I want to take an active role in the planning, as it is an important event for the both of us. The ending of one stage of our lives, and the beginning of another...I am excited for our new life to start, and look forward to living as wife and husband. She completes me like no other.

A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

I find myself in the main city of Ogrimmar, city of orcs. I find the city comfortable, and may stay a few days to acclimate my senses to being amongst the living once again. I sense some hostility from some of the residents, but indifference from much of the people I pass through. Yes, indeed, I like it here.

There are many buildings of learning, and libraries here in this city of war. I have paid a young scribe to search them for some inkling of my previous life...my only clue, my name and race. I wait and watch the streets and commerce as I do so.

I feel no need to eat or drink, nor sleep. Only the early pangs of the hunger. I will take of it before it becomes to severe. And I wait.

"Laena, discipline is the way to go, holy is so old and traditional."
"No one does holy anymore, discipline is better."
"Everyone is doing discipline!"

Ohmigod! Everyone else is eating poop sandwiches, that doesn't mean I want one! No! I have made my choice, let them shake their heads, and "tsk tsk" me. I feel comfortable with the light, and I find holy a special way of doing things. I'm glad in my choice.

And I had heard of a guild on the rise, and I inquired as to whether they were still taking new recruits - they accepted me! I am now a proud member of the Rising Sun Fellowship! I am eager to meet some of my fellow members.

Today is the first loss of many..of this I am sure I came in close contact with a warrior today...he nearly cleaved off my head...I should have let him....but instead I drove my blade into his stomach...and as he lay there...dying...I rose a zombie to finish him...I could bearly stand to watch....I was promoted today...I am now a warlord in the war chiefs eyes...in my eyes..I am a monster...I can bearly look at myself any more...what would the others think of me...is this the end?...or is it my beginning...

Auxilia I miss you.....

Signed

Warlord, Solorin Sunsorrow

An initiate of the Blood Knights. Trained in combat, and taught the use of the light. Days flew by, and now I stand in Fairwing Square. Ready to enter the world.

I have made contact with the Rising Sun Fellowship. I am to interview with milady Tislina tonight. Perhaps I can win her acceptance to join the guild. I looked into several, but there is something about this fellowship that intrigues me.

It was a dark and gloomy day in the Hillsbrad Foothills. The mage sat huddled under a tree, trying to stay dry as the rain fell from the sky. She began to write in her journal.

It rains here. In the foothills. And I cried. When no one was around I cried. For the first time in twelve years. I cried for my parents. I cried for my brother. I cried for the rift in my family. I cried greatly for the Fellowship's troubles. But what suprised me the most, is I cried for myself.
All the worry and uncetainess came flowing out. I am so terrified. Terrified for the Fellowship. Terrified I will never see Kreindis again. Terrified I will fail. But I will keep going, I promise that.
For the Fellowship.... my family.

I never imagined that when I finally let it all out, it would be on some crazy quest. But I stood there, in the rain and cried my heart out. In a way, I am glad. Even if anyone was watching, all they would see was a girl in the rain. They would assume it was drops of water rolling down her face.

My prescence has been requested by a man called Neryth. He wishes to join the Fellowship, and so I am to interview him tonight. If worse comes to worse, I will teleport to Silvermoon and rejoin our quest group later. I have all intention of completing this quest with the ring.

I hope to be at the party tomarrow night. It will be my last chance to see Kreindis before he departs...

Anyways, that will do for now. I wish to explore some of the surronding areas.

(New entry in a plain brown leather journal.)

I was told to write down the things that happen to me. When something seemed familiar to follow the threads to see where they lead and putting the thoughts into words on paper was supposed to help with my memory. It hasn’t and I have long come to accept that whatever and whoever I was before it all went black is gone and all that is left is Auxilia…

…who, by the way, is nothing like the namesake from which it was chosen.

Since I have had to carve a new life out of completely nothing, I do have some experience on the matter. Certainly, there are things that I would have done differently but the paths I had available to me were limited. In the end, I have done well for myself, even if what I do is painted in shades of grey. Many people do not understand those of us who do the things that are necessary but messy because they themselves do not wish to do these things. They only want the messy things done and not be told about it.

Did that even make sense? Well, I know what it means and I am the only one reading this so I really don’t care if it makes sense or not.

I met an interesting man by the name of Jade. He is older and at the time completely incapacitated by alcohol. I walked him outside and later that day checked on him. He was up and moving around without looking worse for the wear, which makes me wonder how often he drinks until he passes out. He seemed as if he were forgotten by everyone he knew—but I could not say that for certain.

No one needs to be forgotten.

I know that I should have spoken to him about the Fellowship, but my mind was elsewhere as I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the upcoming task from Orgrimmar.

I came across Solorin again—he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle at the time. I found him at an inn, doing his best to stay drunk in spite of a death knight’s constitution. He was severely depressed, a condition that I found myself poorly equipped to deal with. He spoke to me about bits of his life now, trying to pick up pieces in a world that moved on without him. He told me about his death… how horrifying it must be to have that memory. I do not know how he can stand it.

Before we parted ways, he asked me to dine with him one night. I admit that it took me moment to realize what he had asked. I did agree, but the date was not set. I was going to leave soon for a yet-to-be-disclosed location and as it turns out, he had matters to attend to as well. Experienced and capable soldiers were needed on the Horde front lines and he was on the list.

When he said good bye, I asked him if he planned to return. His depression still appeared to weigh on him and since he already tried to drown himself once, I have to wonder if he will just let an Alliance soldier kill him on the field.

When he looks at me, it is with a wistful expression. He isn't cold or impassive--although at times I can hear the weight of depression in his tone. I don't want to be a continual crutch for him, but at the same time when he looks at me, I feel as if he is seeing me... not a rogue in street clothes as others seem to do.

The only other people who look at me this way are Kel'Tira, a married orc, his wife, and a troll.

I need time to figure out I feel about this. I know there is more to it than is really being said and I am probably coming off as cold, but for the time being, I am not in a position to think about it. My mind needs to be clear and focused for what is ahead or else I may not be the one who returns from the field.

Although, it is a little unnerving to think that our small conversation in the Bazaar might have been our last.

Speaking of unnerving, they still have not told me where I am heading. That alone tells me it is someplace that I really do not want to go but again, shades of grey.

But that is all the musings i have time for. It is time to go.

Today I am a member of the Rising Sun Fellowship. I shall do my best to guard our ideals, protect those of the Fellowship, and make myself a valued member of the gui...Fellowship. I found a tabard, and I wear it proudly. I am Neryth of the Rising Sun Fellowship...yes, I like the sound of that.

I met the fair Tislina in the Hall of the Fellowship. She took my breath away, and it was later at dusk that she truly stole my heart. She is beautiful, intelligent, and observant...and she is taken. What a lucky fellow this Kreindis is, I hope he realizes what a find the lady is.

She told me the basics of the guild, and I was given a guildstone. She cautioned me that not all who listened to the communications were friendly. This is a breach of our security of the highest kind! I must talk to one of the leaders of the Fellowship, and see what I can do as a member.

I spoke with milady for a moment in the Court of the Sun. A true place of beauty of trees and fountains, though they paled in the light of young Tislina. We spoke in generalizations, and I made my excuse to leave. She was a lady, and I a gentleman...take care Kreindis, she is indeed a pearl of great price, and worthy of all you can give, and then some.

I took myself to the practice dummies, to take the edge off of my conversation with Tislina. I found myself not quite concentrating and thinking of Tislina, when a feminine voice came up from behind me.

She rode a tall charger, and she was a vision of grace and beauty as she climbed down from her mount. She told me to watch her carefully, and I could but nod dumbly as she proceeded to beat up on the dummy. Her form and style of fighting captivated me, and I watched her as she moved and cast spells...I was....I cannot say...she was...

She asked me if I would have a drink with her. I could only nod, and she told me to follow her as she needed a bit of training in the Hall of Blood. If watching her fight was captivating, staring at her as she walked towards the Hall was...beauty in a dress. She had grace and style that made my mind go into spirals. I quickly caught up with her, and then we made our way to the Silvermoon City Inn.

My mouth was dry as I followed her, and I noticed she was displeased by the dust that covered her feet as we walked. I made a quick purchase and met her upstairs. And I washed her small delicate feet for her...she was surprised, and grateful.

We later went for a walk, and she showed me some combat moves that would save my life. We dueled, I lost many times, but she encouraged me, and we fought for several minutes. Then as quickly as I met her, she was gone...but not before she blew me a kiss.

I will carry bruises on my body and feel some aches from our sparring in the morning...and I already look forward to meeting her again. Milady? I would call her "Mistress" if she would but let me...she is Alecca, and I desire her.

A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

My gold was well spent, for I have a name, and a place. My sister in Silvermoon City. I will seek her out, she will help me learn of my previous self.

A hero...we shall see.

I will leave in a few days...this city is large, and I find myself lost in its shops and market places. I have taken a few jobs to build my cash reserve, and to sate my hunger. Perhaps this is how I will exist...taking jobs to aid those who need it, and also to relieve me of the pain of this undying hunger.

We shall see.

Kreindis Blazestride

I spoke with Tislina for a short time in the Court of the Sun last night. I told her how much I would miss her, and how much I wish I could stay. Tonight will be my last chance to see her again before I leave, and I can only hope that I do...

Why does the Warchief believe we need such strong establishments, even in another world...?
Its just not fair that he takes people from their homes, their loved ones, and their friends and sends them into high chances of death...

I just wish I could stay here, in Silvermoon.. my home...

A new small leather bound journal.

I spent the night in Ogrimmar, and while I despise the city, I stayed to comfort an old friend...and I would do it again, anytime. I stood guard over my sister, I calmed her and hummed to her, and she rested.

We talked. We came to an agreement that we would not let something like this happen again. We held each other close, and tightly. And I carried her to her bed in the inn. She was exhausted, I could see it in her eyes and in her face. And she was light in my arms...has she been eating at all?

As I watched her sleep, I could not help thinking how much I had come to love her, and care for her. But it is not like that love I hold for my Karamia. It is so much different, and somewhat the same. She is my sister, my cousin, my guildmistress, and my House leader. So much to carry on such small delicate shoulders. I need to step up, and help her in some of her duties - perhaps she will find some relief. I will talk with her later...for now, I will let her sleep.

I had some information passed on to me concerning the rune stones. And while I worry for the safety of the carrier of the information, it was important. Light watch over them, and protect them. Anyway, Viragona needs the runes taken in a specific order, and she needs the rune of hatred next...and brings an army to take it! I must warn An'giel, and the Fellowship needs to try to prevent her from getting it. These runes are a key to a tome of great evil, I know it, I saw it, I felt it...we need to prevent her from opening this book!

Our informant learned the next runestone is Greed, and we believe it may be found in Booty Bay - this supported the research Tislina had come up with. And then the following runestone is Desire, or as the witch calls it, the stone of lust. It's location has not been determined.

Never have I felt that what the Fellowship can do to stop her, can only prevent some great evil from being unleashed on Azeroth. We may be the only people to stand between her and chaos she wishes to bring into world. Light give us strength, and the wherewithal to stop this crazy b i t c h from destroying Azeroth, our families, or lives.

The woman with the brown hair frowned at the elegant dress that she had been presented with. It had probably cost more than she made in a month. She had not worn anything like it in recent memory, but then again, recent memory—as in the past eight months—was all she had. Something familiar tickled the back of her brain, but she could not make the thought take form. She sighed and let the sense of déjà vu drop back into the dark recess with the rest of her lost memories.

“Where I am going, again?” she asked, looking back at a bald orc.

“To a party,” he grinned at her. “You, my dear, will hopefully catch the eye of the host.”

Another orc walked up and threw a pair of delicate looking sandals on the table. “Here are her shoes,” he snorted. “Why aren’t we sending in the Rose, again?”

“Because the Rose screwed up her last five missions and we need this one to go smoothly,” the first orc replied. He look at the woman with the brown hair, “Besides, I think that Scarlet here will clean up rather nicely.”

The woman with the brown hair rolled her eyes at the comment. Since her work in Stormwind, the nickname Scarlet had stuck. She could think of names that she would prefer, but at least ‘Scarlet’ was better than the original one they had tried to give her.

The second orc snorted again and plopped himself down in a chair. It gave a small groan of protest, but held. “Here is what we want: the guy giving this party runs one of the organized crime syndicates. He mostly deals in weapons and has information on incendiary devices that we want. The rumor is that it is mana bomb technology that was used in the Outlands—dangerous stuff. You need to get that information and who wants the devices.”

The first orc waited a moment before speaking. “The intelligence we have now says that someone is planning an attack on the Horde and this guy is the supplier, but we don’t know who the buyer is or where the attack will be.” He gestured to the other orc, “What he isn’t telling you is that the information is behind closed and guarded doors. You will have to work your way into the host’s good graces by whatever means necessary,” a blush stained his green cheeks, “and get that information. ”

“By whatever means necessary?” Scarlet repeated, feeling a bit like a parrot. She looked at the first orc, a small pit of dread growing in her stomach. She pointed at him with one long finger, “You want me to seduce him.”

The blush went deeper, “Actually, I understand that he likes to be in charge, so let him seduce you.”

‘No, no, no…’ the word ran through her mind at the prospect. She didn’t know if she could do this, but it wasn’t a choice of whether or not she wanted to. She was going in because information came that someone was planning on bombing a Horde target and she needed to find who and where. Still, she cast about for an excuse as to why she wasn’t the person they wanted.

“I assume that there will be other women at this party, how do you know that he will pick me out of the crowd?” She really didn’t want this job—getting seduced by a crime lord wasn’t high on her list of things to do, particularly when her personal life seemed to be becoming more and more interesting. But this wasn’t her personal life, it was her professional life. An image of seven dead people came to her mind and she strengthened her resolve.

She would find a way to do this.

“You are going to have to find a way to get and keep his attention,” the first orc replied. “You won’t be alone there, we have another operative in place to slip you in and slip you out—you will be a new face and that alone should be of interest to him.”

“The Rose would have this well under control,” the second orc grunted from his chair. “She could get this done and she wouldn’t be squeamish about what needs to be done,” he gave Scarlet a pointed look.

“The Rose wasn’t picked to go and for the record, I don’t think she is well enough to do this. This is really an infiltration mission and Scarlet is far better at sneaking around undetected than the Rose will ever be,” the first orc shot back. He was getting tired of being second-guessed.

“What is this crime lord’s name?” Scarlet asked, ignoring the second orc. She wasn’t very fond of him and knew that the feeling was mutual.

“His name is Eliran Falconsky—a blood elf,” the first orc said as a blond blood elf walked into the room. The orc gestured to him, “This is Tirastrian. He’ll tell you what you need to know about getting Falconsky’s attention and he’ll be your man on the inside.”

The second orc grunted again from his chair, a piece of blackroot in his hand, “He shouldn’t be hard to spot, he’s a blood elf, auburn hair, supposed to be handsome if you go for that sissy stuff. But then again, they all look alike.”

(1/2)

The blond blood elf gave the second orc a pointed look, “I need six cases of wine, two cases of Grenier brandy and two cases of bourbon.”

“What I do look like, your errand boy?” the second orc sputtered. “And Grenier? Do you have any idea of how expensive and hard to find that stuff is?”

“I’ll tell you what I look like—Falconsky’s errand boy and that is his list of alcohol that I am supposed to be bringing back. As for the brandy, try the black market, we are working for a crime lord after all,” the blood elf turned his back on the second orc and addressed Scarlet.

“Here is what you need to know: he likes to be in charge and aggressive women are out—which is probably why he hasn’t taken a consort. Most of the women there are predatory and he ignores them, so keep that in mind when you play this part.” Behind him, Scarlet could see the first orc mouth, ‘I told you so,’ to the second who just sank lower in the chair and jutted out his lower jaw, which had taken to working the blackroot with fervor. “Keep to yourself,” the blood elf continued, “and it is okay if other men flirt with you, just don’t go with them—not only will Falconsky dismiss you, you’ll also find yourself in an unfavorable situation.”

“And the only ‘situation’ I need to be in is with Falconsky,” Scarlet replied as she started thinking through how she was going to handle getting his attention.

If she had known that she was going to be heading into a situation like this, she would have reconsidered the dinner invitation—it seemed more than a little wrong to be looking forward to dinner with one man while allowing oneself to be seduce by another. The situation wasn’t black and white—she wasn’t going to Falconsky because she wanted to and in the end, he was the one that was getting fooled.

But this was also part of her professional life and anyone coming into her personal one had to understand that she would have to put herself in these situations from time to time. Certainly, the people who were living in the area where the bombs were scheduled to go off appreciated what she was about to do.

The blood elf continued, feeling some empathy for the woman as conflicting emotions ran across her face. The first time anyone had a mission like this was difficult.

“Don’t worry, you won’t need to be intimate with him,” Tirastrian assured her as the second orc looked up with a disappointed grunt. “He will take you to his private rooms, but he will not let you wander about alone—he will be by your side at all times. There is too much valuable information there and he isn’t an idiot. We need him incapacitated—asleep—so you can search for the information without being disturbed.”

Scarlet relaxed at this bit of news. She wanted her first intimate experience since she came out of the coma (and therefore would remember) to be with someone she actually chose.

He pointed to a necklace that was nestled in a box with a bracelet and earrings. “That has a small compartment with a powdered sleep agent. Between the two of us, we should be able to make him think that he has consumed more alcohol than he has; when you get the room, slip the powder into his drink. It is slow to work in this form, so be patient. When he falls asleep, work quickly and leave.”

What he wasn’t going to say, although he figured that she probably already knew was that she might not get the chance to douse Falconsky’s drink, at which point, she would have to go through with the ruse and when it was over, use whatever means she had to get the information.

“Look like you have a brain in your head,” Tirastrian continued, “but be submissive. Remember, he likes to be in charge. Go where he says to go and do what he says to do. He will test you to see if you are worth his time, but you may not realize when he is judging your actions or answers.

“We’ll saddle a horse and have it waiting for you on the north side of the house once you head up,” He looked over at the first orc who stirred from the wall he was leaning against, “Plans of the house and ground are around here somewhere. Study them well, you’ll need every edge you can get.”

“I know this is not your usual thing,” the first orc said picking up a set of papers. “It is not something that we would normally ask you to do, but we need someone reliable to do this.

“You’ll need a name, one you can remember,” the first orc continued as he dropped a set of house plans in front of Scarlet. “Once you decide on that, let Tirastrian know. He’ll take care of the rest of the formalities.”

“A name,” she said thoughtfully. After a few minutes of thinking through several literary references, she said, “I’ll go with Calandre.”

(2/2)

We took back the prison today, we now have a firm grasp on it, I highly doubt the Alliance will try anything for a while my squad hit them pretty hard...It is fun to be a Warlord, I can command mass portions of the Warchief's army...bend them to my will and turn them into fine soldiers....I hate it out here still..I want to go home...

I want to see, that brown hair that...curls just right, the way she looks when she reads...*laughs* She gets so into it...her eyes...emerald...fiery not like other eyes I've seen...when i look at them...I feel as if I'm looking into her...getting to see who she really is..Her astound beauty...It makes me feel alive....do I care for her because of the way she makes me feel? Or because I actually...Care for her...And to be honest...I really do care for her....maybe I should return home..just so I can see..the brown haired girl...with beautiful eyes..and a wonderful..personality.

A new small leather bound journal.

A party. I spent time at a party with my bride to be, and she looked wonderful. Her hair, her eyes, and those warm full lips. I became intoxicated just kissing her. I held her close, and looked into her eyes. I could see the love we share in their depths, and my heart pounded. Oh, my sweet, sweet Karamia...I love you so much. She wore my favorite gown tonight...she is so thoughtful. I think I'll marry her someday.

We had an uninvited guest to the party. I'm almost sure it was Aseria...though she has changed some. It was the clothes she wore, and the voice...that voice from in the Royal Exchange park. It sounded much like that voice. She played with us for but a few minutes, and was gone. Will the Fellowship never get any rest...must we be on our guard at all times? I grow weary of these antagonists constantly putting my Fellowship, my family, in peril.

I spoke with Tislina and Karamia in the Hall. I worry about An'giel and her guarding the Hatred runestone. I will go and aid her, and keep her company. Of course, Mia was not excited about it, but sometimes a man must do what a man must do. I sit here in this desolate land, and I wish she were here with me. It is lonely out here...how has An'giel been able to stand it? I have told her that we have word Viragona is preparing an army to assault the Hatred runestone.

My final thoughts for the day were about Karamia...I'll return, my love, and we shall marry. It is in our future, it is our hearts, and it shall come to pass. I love you my darling, oh so very much.

I did not see her tonight. And I wonder if it might have been my poor skills in combat that caused her to stay away. I shall work hard to improve them then, to prove myself worthy of her attention, and training. And to prove to myself that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to...

My prowess in combat is improving, and I made an adjustment in my fighting stance. I have sworn to protect and guard the people of the Fellowship, and so I shall. My shield is ready, and my sword arm is strong, let us begin.

A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

I look over the papers and report the scribe put together for me. Information to aid me in who I was, to help me to discover who I am now. Jahana...her name is Jahana. In Silvermoon City...a member of some fellowship of some sort.

It matters not to me...she will help me find out who I was. Jahana...the name rings through my mind...Jahana...who are you sister? And what can you tell me of your long dead brother? Brother...dead...Jahana...my mind refuses to open to me, but I sense something...about my sister...and my death.

Regardless, she will tell me what I need to know, she must tell me what I need to know, or there will be hell to pay.

Journal of Karamia Dawnstrike

My mind is in a turmoil, I cannot help but worry for my Cyaer. He has become such a part of my life. I love him and cannot abide the thoughts of anything happening to him. My memories of Tyrael resurface. How cold he was to me and yet I loved him. Was that just a childish fantasy? It depressed me for months when he was killed. As much as I love Cyaer...it will be much worse if I lose him.

There is an Elder I have seen in the City of Silvermoon. He insisted I call him Jade, he was selling furs and meat to the innkeeper. For some reason she refused to sell him any liquor. I felt sorry for him and brought some out to where he sat in the grass outside the Inn. There was a raven that perched on the tree above us.

His words to the bird did not make sense. "Get away from me you ill omened carrion eater!" and he threw rocks at it. The raven merely flew off a short distance and perched again. I am certain he was laughing at the aged hunter. Jade sighed and turned his back on the bird.

After a few hours of chatting I learned he was homeless and I offered him a place to stay in the Fellowship. I told him about Viragona and her vendetta against us and warned him also about Aseria. He vowed to help us and then told me a curious story about his House. I am not sure I believed him. His House of Jaed was founded by his great grandfather, Haoronius Jaed. They were witch hunters, or as he liked to call it, Shadow Hunters. They went after anyone who used the dark powers including warlocks and Shadow priests.

As he spoke I could not believe our luck! To have this elf in our midst and actually having his aid and experience was Light sent! Then he showed me the gem he had in a gold and elementium chain around his neck. It was a dark jade, and it seemed to have an amazing power to focus, and it was what he said next that made my skin crawl.

"She tried to use her dark powers on me...my beloved Saeri...I had not realized she was a dark priest until that time...I had given her the dark jade focus gem as a gift. My son...Light forgive me...was a warlock...when I fell ill to old age...Kainthal raised me from death with his cursed magic and dark power. I was no more than a gibbering elder with my body ravaged and my mind confused. The Magisters came...and they fought with Kainthal...he killed one and then something happened...my mind is so blurry on that."

It was all I could get out of him, as he fell to sleep after so much mead. I wonder what truly happened? He does not seem too elderly now to hunt and is actually quite active. He seems to have a new lease on life. The gem on his neck seems to glow softly. I wonder what it does? I will have to ask the jewelry trainer if he knows anything about a dark jade focus.

The Rose watched as they spoke with Scarlet, giving the younger woman instructions on how to get in, get out, return points and all the things that the job required. Jealousy curled up in the woman’s stomach at the thought of being passed up for someone younger and in her opinion, someone less attractive.

Scarlet was wholly unqualified to attend the house party in the guise of a guest in the attempt to gain the trust of the host in order to get information, the Rose told herself with some considerable malice as she drained the contents of a glass of sherry. The younger elf would botch the mission by blowing her cover with some ill-time mistake and they would need to send someone with more experience in.

The Rose was still a striking woman, even though age was slowly catching up to her. Her blonde hair was long and glossy, her lips suited to form the perfect pout and her jade green eyes could beckon a man from across a room. She had kept herself fit, although the years of alcoholism were slowly catching up to her. The once soft lines of her face were hardening and the supple skin beginning to wrinkle and sag.

She poured herself another drink from the sherry bottle and downed it—she barely tasted the sweet, oxidized wine before it slipped down her throat—before turning to scrutinize Scarlet. What did she have anyway? Brown hair? Mundane and tired looking, nothing special there. Mousy even… the Rose’s lips formed a sneer while she mentally maligned Scarlet’s features.

Her sneer twisted in an angry moue when they opened a box and presented Scarlet with three pieces of expensive jewelry: a pair of earrings, a bracelet and a necklace. They were wrought from silver and inlaid with jewels. The pieces were artless and stunning. The pieces should have been hers… she poured more sherry, some of the deep amber liquid sloshing over the rim of the glass and onto the table.

The Rose turned her dark and unhappy thoughts to the orcs in the room with Scarlet. They thought that they were going to keep her from this party, but they were not. The Rose was getting on in years and she knew that her time was going to up soon. Unfortunately, a life of decadence had led her to spending most of the money she had earned over the years and she needed an influx of cash to keep up her lavish lifestyle. She would go to the party and get in the good graces of the host and prove to the pair of stupid orcs that she was the correct person for the job.

Of course, if he could offer her a better life than what she had in Orgrimmar—and she was certain a man of his wealth and power could—then she would consider defecting to the criminal underworld. At least there, they would appreciate a woman of her quality.

***
(Several days later.)

A group of highway men—five in all—gathered outside an old barn not long before ten that evening. There were several large estates in the area quite a number of carriages had made their way towards one of those manor houses. Someone was having a house party and that meant tonight would be a good night to make a dishonest living. While it promised to be chilly, they would wait until the drunken nobles made their way back to their homes some hours later. Drunk and sleepy, they would be easy pickings for the experienced highwaymen.

“Tonight will be a cold one, it will,” One of the men said, adjusting the saddle on his horse.

“Aye, maybe one of the blokes will have some brandy in ‘is carriage like last time,” another man replied. Nobles always carried good brandy with them. Sometimes it was scotch and sometimes it was wine. The wine he could do without.

“Are we headed for the east road?”

“Aye, party there tonight. If we keep our distance, ‘e won’t know we’re there.”

It would be a chilly night and they would endure it huddled in their cloaks without the benefit of a fire. A fire would give them away and they needed the element of surprise. The full moon aided in viewing the quarry and the grassy knoll made hiding easy. The cold night let sound carry and they could hear the steady clip-clop of horse’s hooves and the rattle of carriage wheels.

The five men mounted their horses and made their way to the road where they would set up an ambush point. The five found that it paid well to work together—most highwaymen worked alone or in pairs. A group of five mounted men looked like soldiers from a distance, a disarming illusion that allowed their quarry to move in close before they realized that they were about to be robbed.

Once the men were in position on the road, they huddled down in their cloaks and waited.

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