World of Warcraft®

The woman with the brown hair carefully made her way up the steps. It had been a good night out with her friends, an unexpected appearance by a rock star, and dancing on the stage had certainly made it a night to remember. She set an autographed picture on a table and moved to her wardrobe.

Changing into a nightgown, she crawled into bed, pleasantly tired and absently wondering where her husband was. She assumed that he was out hunting—something he did from time to time. He would be back by morning. She snuggled under the covers and quickly fell asleep.

She was woken by a noise. The guild stone was on again—something continuously bumped it on while they were in Shattrath.

Groggily, she stared at it, muttering, “What?”

It sounded again… a woman’s voice was speaking and someone was giving a cry of pain in the background.

She came fully awake, her eyes wide as she suddenly realized that she recognized the voices. Selena was with Sol and the sounds of pain and clinking of chains told the rogue that the woman was not interested in reconciliation of old grudges.

Quickly she donned the leather armor that she had been issued from Orgrimmar. Slipping on a leather mask to protect her face she pulled out a pair of short swords, running poison over each blade.

“I think you will find that you are a little too late…” Selena’s voice sneered to her. “Care to see if you can save him?” She gave an ugly laugh, “I doubt it. Better hurry, he’s fading fast.”

She wasn’t certain how the warlock was speaking to her, but at the moment, she didn’t care. The woman told her where Sol was being held and for the moment that is what mattered.

“It does not matter where you go, I will find you,” Scarlet said coldly as she moved from the house and blended into the shadows outside. “Make your peace.”

But, it was not Selena who died that night.

***
(New entry in a plain brown leather journal.)

I thought I had lost him… in fact I had for a small moment of time. I cannot say what happened, what breathed back into him, but only that whatever it was brought him back. I underestimated the amount of hatred that Selena had for him and his brother and I underestimated her drive to make the connection between the two of us.

I gave him what help I could, a healing potion, but that was all I could do. His injuries were severe and I did not have the strength to move him, but I found his hearth stone and sent him to Dalaran. Someone there will hopefully take him to the healers.

I called his brother to come to Dalaran; he needs to know what happened and who caused it. I will need his help in tracking her down. Now I am waiting in the infirmary for Xal. Sol was sleeping when I arrived and there is nothing that I can do.

***
The woman with the brown hair sets down the journal as tears threaten to stain the pages. She gives a shaky sob and runs a hand over her face. Soon, fatigue overcomes her as she watches her sleeping husband. There is something different, she just does not know what and is too tired to ponder it. Her eyes slowly shut and her head tilts back against the wall.

A healer looks over from the counter where is she working on bandages and pushes a wayward strand of pale gold hair back behind her ear. She picks up a blanket and walks over to lay it on the sleeping woman before turning to check on the man in the bed. Satisfied, she moves to another patient.

Kreindis Blazestride

Last night was possibly one of the funnest nights of my life so far. Cyaer, Alenthis and I had a party night meant for Cy. We went to Falconwing, Dalaran, and Orgrimmar, and drank all the way. The girls had one for Karamia as well, and we listened to it during ours. Its hard to admit, but it sounded like they had more fun than us. We sat in Dalaran for about an hour at the tavern "The Filthy Animal" talking about lots of different things, and Cyaer ended up leaving. I think he said something about Karamia needing him, I think.

Alenthis and I followed after him to Shattrath where the girls were at, but I only went because Tislina had asked me to come pick her up. I took her back to Silvermoon City after arriving in Shattrath, as she wanted. We fell asleep quickly together at the Silvermoon City Inn, but before we did she asked me if she had ever told me how much she loved me. I said she hadnt, but I guessed alot. She nodded and said more than I would ever know, and I said I might know some day.

And I hope I do. Because I love her, too.

An ornate scarlett leather tome with an intricate gold lock and clasp, and gold-edged pages. The name Lyrilia Dawnblade is inscribed on the bottom left corner of the cover, in a flowing, gold script.

I recieved...a letter from my cousin's friend....and it held some interesting information. Which all turned out to be true...

Lyrilia slams the book shut, smudging the still wet ink.

"Why am I even writing in this dreadful book!" The paladin sweeped her arm across the desk, knocking her journal, quill, and open ink bottle to the floor of her room in the inn. The black ink spilled acros the floor, pooling in the various dents in the boards. Watching the ink spill she became angry with it for spilling, swiftly picking the nearly empty bottle up and slamming it on the desk. Kicking her journal out of the spilt ink, she burst through the door, slamming and locking it swiftly. Running through the inn, she reached the road. Many people stared. Summoning her charger, she rode recklessly through the streets, nearly knocking over displays, and people. The paladin eventually made it out of the city, urging the horse faster off the path and into the forest.

Reaching the shoreline she dismounted and dissmissed her charger. Running to the water she collected a number of large rocks, just small enough to throw,tears streaming down her face. Stepping a bit into the water, she began to throw them as hard as she could, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

"I hate demons!" she screamed, throwing the first rock. "I hate lies!" she threw another. "I hate....people who tell lies!" She threw a rather large rock. It hit the water with a large splash, but not as far from the shore as the others. "I hate rocks who don't fly far enough when I throw them!!" She threw the next one as hard as she could, clutching her shoulder after, the tears coming faster with the pain. "I hate things that hurt me!" she began throwing the rocks with her other arm, the pain not as great as her other arms. " I hate him, I hate him I HATE HIM!" the paladin threw the rocks faster now, having reached the lighter ones at the bottom of her pile. "I hate how he lied to me, how he hurt me, how I trusted him. I hate that he talks to, how he helps...DEMONS!"

Running out of rocks, she fell to the ground, crying harder then before and throwing fistfulls of sand at the water. Lyrilia removed some of her armor, sitting only in her mail chestpiece and pants in the wet sand. "I....I hate how he was going to let them near my..sister!" she clenched her teeth and threw many fistfulls of sand in anger. Tired, and her arms and shoulder now both sore, she fell over onto the sand, lying on her side. The sand mixed in with her blonde hair, and stuck to her face. "But maybe...most of all....I hate how he said he loves me." She rolled over onto her back, staring at the night sky, suddenly exahusted. "I hate it..because..maybe I just might...maybe I......No, Its not right...its not...I shouldn't...lo-...

Her eyes closed as she rolled over back onto her side, falling asleep in the wet sand .

(New entry in a plain brown leather journal)

Solorin is home. I had lain awake for a long time, watching him rest. Held him close to me and tried to forget just how close I was to losing my other half. It is funny how I never realized that a part of me was missing until I found it. Now, I am not certain how I would live without him.

Speaking of pieces…

He told me some of what happened that night—what saved him. While I do not fully understand the how or why, I do understand that it brought my husband back to me and for that, I will not question it. He also explained what the end result would be. I told him that I would be there to see him through it, I would help him. I am frightened to think that this may not go well, frightened to think that this process may hurt him, but if this is what he wants, I will see that it happens.

I did turn down a training exercise to attend the wedding. Thank goodness I did because if I had not, then I may not have found Sol. Orgrimmar understood, the orcs place value on family. Blacklist agreed, but there was something to his tone that made me think he is unhappy about something.

On a less somber note:

The wedding was lovely. Mia made a lovely bride and Cy a handsome groom. I admit that I kept sneaking peeks at my husband during the ceremony. We didn’t have much time to plan our own wedding—well, that is a lie, we didn’t have any time to plan our wedding but I have no regrets. I have what I want, Solorin as my husband, and that is all that matters.

On a far more somber note:

Someone has taken Kel. Why and where remain to be seen but several of us are looking. The only time that I have ever seen my husband truly angry is when someone he cares about is threatened. This could not have come at a worse time; Solorin is still recovering from his injuries but I know that keeping him from looking would be like trying to stop the tide from coming in. I am with him on this hunt, so at least he has someone to make certain that his bandages are kept clean and the wounds uninfected. We will find her, I just hope he does not exhaust himself in the process.

An ornate scarlett leather tome with an intricate gold lock and clasp, and gold-edged pages. The name Lyrilia Dawnblade is inscribed on the bottom left corner of the cover, in a flowing, gold script.

Hes, taken Kel. Alenthis has taken Kel! I don't know why he did, but I hate it....I followed a bit with the others, but some of them angered me...they don't understand! So I left...I couldn't stay...I should have stayed! I'm not sure what happened after but I know I couldn't tell them why I asked what I asked...why I asked them not to hurt him...to let me try and talk...

I just couldn't tell them because I hate the reason I asked that.....I hate it! I hate it. hate it, HATE IT! I hate how I think..I think I love him....and it seems so wrong, so....I'm a paladin! I just shouldn't! It just shouldn't be....and because of this I could never tell them.....I will just hide it...force it away...

but Kel....I must try and help her...I must try and talk to him.

Lyrilia shoved her journal into her bags and mounted her charger, watching the scourge camp. A lone abomination slowly wandered from the camp. Gripping the reins she urged the horse forward impatiently, not wanting to wait for it to move farther from the other two, and the very close Skeleton. She had been recklessly roaming the Eastern Plaguelands, fighting for hours on end and preforming tasks untill her shoulders ached, and her legs felt like jelly. She stopped her charger and dismounted quickly, running blindly towards the abomination. Her blade glowed a holy white as she ran it through the abomintaion, releasing her anger with each blow. The abomination hook flew dangerously close to her head and she staggered back, grabbing the attention of a nearby skeletal warrior.

The abomintaion swung at Lyrilia again, and she blocked it with her sword, pulling away and slashing at its legs. The skeletal warrior was fast approaching and she had little time to deal with the abomination. Cutting its stubby legs down it fell over, shaking the ground slightly. Rubbing sweat off her forhead she ran towards its head, throwing herself to the ground as it swung its arm at her. Crawling alongside it she scrambled to get on her feet, plunging her sword into its head, and slashing wildly at its neck. Panting, she swung around just in time to block a blow from the skeleton's mace.

Her shoulders screamed with pain as she swung her sword around, plunging it into a gap between bones. The skeleton swung again, her hair falling into her face as she rushed to block it. A searing pain ran through her hand as the mace collided with it unstead of the sword, breaking various bones in her hand. Struggling to keep her sword up, she swung one last time, her injured hand falling from the handle mid-swing, momentum carrying the blade into the side of the skeleton, shattering many of its bones. The skeleton made one final swing of its own just as her sword collided, hitting Lyrilia in the side of the head. Blood trickled down her face as she struggled to walk, picking up her blade and dragging it behind her with her good hand, as she walked towards her charger.

Reaching the horse, she dropped her sword near the tree and threw herself across the saddle. She slapped the horse urging it to go, barely holding on as she fell unconcious, the horse running for help to the nearby tower.

Tislina laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. She tried her very best to fall asleep. Eventually accepting she couldn't, she lit a candle and began to write in her journal.

He is gone. Kreindis is gone. He had to go to Northrend. Am I afraid? Yes. Though I don't know who I am more worried for. Myself or Kreindis. I think what scares me the most though, is how close this scenario is to when my brother left. I lost him in Northrend, what do I do if I lose Krei there too? He promised he'd come back though. I believe him. I also have the pleasure of fearing for my own life. Keyadrion is still out there and even if we haven't seen him in a while, I seriously doubt that means he's gonna leave us alone. Krei said he had a friend who would look out for me, and I suppose that's a tad reassuring. However, I can't bring myself to ask the Fellowship for a guard. We have enough issues as it is. Besides, I probably don't even need a guard. I mean Keyadrion wouldnt attack me now. Would he?

Alenthis the Betrayer made his way along the sandy beach. Fel flames flickered in his footsteps and his new armor sparkled red in the sun. He finally stopped at his destination. He bent to one knee and picked up Kel'tira's guildstone. "Ah, good. Exactly where I left it." He checked and made sure it was off and slipped it into his bag. Alenthis took a small dark orb out of his bag.

He held it in his hand and stared into it. Fel energy spilled from the orb and engulfed his raised hand. The energy wrapped itself around his arm and began to spin. Alenthis smiled and snapped his fingers.

Alenthis popped into existence high atop the mountains of the blasted lands. He could see the great tree to the south, where Marl was and he could see in the distance the palm tree's of Stranglethorn, where Kel was. Kel. He had kidnapped her. Even beat her. He glanced down at the ground in shame. He found himself looking at a reflection of himself in a puddle. His eye's glowed an unearthly red and green fel energy dripped from his fingers.

Alenthis sat down across from the puddle and buried his face in his hands. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?!" His wife's voice filled his head. You are doing this for me...and I hate you for it. Alenthis smiled sadly to himself. "The funny thing is...I don't even want you anymore. The one I love hates me..." Alenthis stared into the sky. The beautiful sunset. "Lyrilia..." Alenthis glanced from the sky back down at the puddle, his disturbing image clouding his view. When the Lich King lost his control over me....I never wanted to kill again. What have I done? I'm a demonic slave. I murder for fun. I PHYSICALLY HURT A WOMAN. I swore...never. But I can't just stop...the dark soulstones are merely a taste of the true power that awaits me. And my wife... Alenthis chuckled. He realized that he didn't even care about his wife anymore. His lust for power was just using her as an excuse. He loved one person and one person only. And he had destroyed any kind of love they could ever have. Alenthis placed his head in his hands and cried. He cried for his wife, he cried for what he'd become...he cried for Lyrilia.

Alenthis the Betrayer stood slowly and glanced down at the tree. Power unimaginable. Or Love... Alenthis thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers again, appearing inside the great tree. Nethecus approached him.

"Alenthis, I thought this might be of interest to you. Our scouts just witnessed a member of your Fellowship lose against some scourge troops in the Eastern Plaguelands. She appears to be dying, Alenthis."

Alenthis sneered, "What does this have to do with me, Demon? Who was it?"

The demon grinned. "Lyrilia."

Alenthis stared at the demon a moment, gathering his thoughts. His left eye twitched madly. "NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Alenthis bolted out of the tree and jumped on top of his goblin rocket. He blasted off and headed for the Eastern Plaguelands. I have to help her! I HAVE TO!

The Dark Knight Watches his wife as she sleeps, he smiles, then takes out a Green Leather journal.

I am...Mortal...I am Quel'dorei once more..It feels good to be alive! granted there is a 'Small' part of my soul still with the Witch..but it is only enough to change my hair back to dark brown, *He laughs* I love Auxi..and now that I am mortal again...we can have a child..just thinking about this makes me smile..and fills my heart with joy.

On another note...Kel has been taken...Im not sure where...but I must find her...maybe Xal..I have to speak with him...She needs to stop walking around in the dark...it keeps getting her into trouble..

Friday evening, on the beach, with friends and family from the Rising Sun Fellowship in attendance.

She was so beautiful, all dressed in white, even a white veil. It helped emphasize her lovely eyes. And she carried a bouquet of white roses. I could feel tears rise to my eyes, as I beheld her walking down the slight hill to stand beside me.

I stood in my tuxedo, and I barely heard Kel'tira officiating as all I could see was Karamia and the pounding of my own heart in my chest. And I remembered the vow I had memorized!

It was a beautiful ceremony, and I thanked everyone for coming, and thanked Kel for her part. We departed to a suite in Dalaran. And the evening ended with Karamia and me laying side by side for a night of rest. I think that is one of my favorite things of being wed, going to bed with Mia beside me, and awakening beside her.

Alenthis the Betrayer made is way down the winding path towards the Tainted Forest. His thoughts raced across his mind like the deeprun tram. He had spoken with Lyrilia. And fought a quick battle with Tyrael. Alenthis frowned deeply.

Alenthis recalled the battle he had with Tyrael. It had been short and decisive. Tyrael had beaten him rather badly. Alenthis scowled slightly. He had never been much of a fighter but Tyrael had nearly destroyed him. Alenthis was more of a thinker and that suited him find. What bothered him about the fight was that while standing in the unholy plaguelands and having access to demonic powers untold, Tyrael had still beaten him. His master must indeed be strong...but surely...not as strong as the burning legion's masters. Alenthis frowned.

Alenthis thought of Lyrilia. He had found her, and saved her. They had talked for a long time. What he had felt when they kissed...indescribable. She had said she loved him...he had to set things right. He had to stop Detheroc. He had to save Kel'tira. He broke into a jog, heading down the path towards the Tainted Forest.

Detheroc greeted him at the massive tree's entrance. Alenthis stopped in front of him and opened his mouth.

The Dreadlord stuck his finger on Alenthis lips. "Shutup, you pathetic weakling." Alenthis raised an eyebrow.

"You should know by now, Detheroc, I am no weakli-Ooof!" Detheroc interrupted his sentence by backhanding him clear across the room. Alenthis landed hard on his side and rolled onto his back, terrified. Detheroc jumped all the way across the room, his wings carrying him through the air like a terrible nightmare. His feet slammed into the ground directly in front of Alenthis.

"You foolish Elf. Did you really think we would merely allow you to leave us and do what you wished? We know everything. We know of your love...and we know of your life. Did you really think us so naive?" The dreadlord's laugh echoed through the room.

Alenthis grabbed his blade from his back and jumped back up into a standing position. "Where is the girl! Where is Kel'tira! I won't work for you any longer!"

Detheroc merely smiled. "Oh, I think you'll work for us. We're renewing your contract." The Demon grinned and lunged at Alenthis. Before Alenthis could react, Detheroc batted his sword out of his hands and wrapped his hand around Alenthis' neck. His eye's widened in horror, as his breath slipped away. The Dreadlord loosened his grip and brought Alenthis' head closer to his own. "Look at me." Alenthis shut his eye's and turned away. Detheroc squeezed harder. "LOOK. AT. ME!" Alenthis glanced up at the dreadlord and their eyes connected. A solid beam of demonic energy flew from the dreadlord's eyes into Alenthis'. Alenthis screamed in agony and the Dreadlord dropped him to the floor. Detheroc stared at the limp form on the ground for a moment. Waiting.

Alenthis shook himself awake and stood slowly. He glanced up at the dreadlord. Detheroc smiled down at him. "Who are you?"

Alenthis thought for a moment and then he smiled. His eyes flashed from blue to a deep red and Fel energy burst from his fingertips. "Alenthis the Betrayer. Humble servant of the Legion." The Dreadlord smiled.

"Excellent."

Well, I have been given my marching orders, Plaguelands. The whole flight my thoughts and prayers were with Jahana. I haven't seen her for quite awhile, my hope is she is scouting for the Horde or the Fellowship...either way, I just hope she is okay. Funny how a woman gets into your mind, then your heart, and takes up residence there.

I wasn't able to reach Sydric before I left but I hope he likes "Lady Awakening." I think she's my finest piece of work to date. And I have Jahana to thank for that. A muse...and someone so much more. I owe her dinner, a bottle of wine, and perhaps a moment with "The Kissing Bandit".

My commander here says we have many scourge to eradicate. That's fine by me, may the light protect me, and bring me safely home.

Milady, I miss you so much. One kiss, milady, is all I ask for, to tide me over til the next time we can meet. Milady?

Tyrael

Alenthis the Betrayer, what an interesting name for one among the Fellowship, it is enjoyable to watch him squirm from the bonds of demons. They snared him with promises of seeing his dead wife, what a weakling. Even in our combat he was weak! I could not believe that what was once a champion of the Lich King could fall so far so quickly from strength to weakness...

I remember being singed by his unholy magics but he still could not defeat me as I rammed my forehead into his, his distraction over his new "lover" causing him to collapse under my assault.

Had the Master not interfered... But I am content for now, the rune of War will be mine soon enough and the Master has asked me to keep an eye on that elf girl, Lyrilia. Oh how fun that will be, bringing her to my master so that he can torture her. I gave the warning again to both of them, whether they will heed it or not is still unknown but I care not.

The Darkness is coming, and when it does this world will be purged.

I've submitted. Fully. Given up. I cannot fight this any longer.

I belong to him, all of my defiance and repulsion has faded, my eyes disillusioned completely as I embrace this new life.

Ironic how this new life has lead me to being covered in tar, sand, and troll's blood all at once...

But I... do not care any longer. I am no longer my own.

~ Silver Truesong

An ornate scarlett leather tome with an intricate gold lock and clasp, and gold-edged pages. The name Lyrilia Dawnblade is inscribed on the bottom left corner of the cover, in a flowing, gold script.

Yesterday was better than most days, much better. I was reckless, much too reckless but good things came of it....very good things I suppose. I could have died...but Alenthis....Alenthis. He came looking for me, and found me. I am not sure how he knew I was injured, but I'm glad he came. I'm glad I spoke with him. But I suppose...no I know I am glad most of all, that I told him I love him. I don't care what anyone thinks of it, of me. I do. I love him and I know my brother would have something to say about it, but I do not care of him or what he thinks! Of what my cousin thinks! She has already voiced her unwanted opinion....but speaking of my dearest cousin, I have much more somber thing to think about..

I have found out what is killing my sister, and what Kel'tira has been taken for.

My cousin, for once, took some time to look over my sister. She...she told me she had not sent the healer in to look at Evelise for more than half a year...She still payed her healer friend, so the woman said nothing of it! Quelisa told me she would send the healer in for only quick amounts of time, barely enough to get a quick look over, but that was when she actually sent for her.....the dreadful mage! Evelise's condition has been declining rapidly now...so she sent for the healer and....

Teardrops dot the page, running the last bit of the sentence into a blob of watery ink. The rest of the entry is written on the following page.

The healer found that...the silver necklace with that beautiful deep purple stone..Evelise found around the time she fell ill....Its killing her. The damn necklace has recently embedded itself into her flesh....the thing is poisined, no cursed and the healer said its demonic of origin. I have had enough of these demons and their things causing me trouble! This necklace is slowly sucking the life from her, but we cannot remove it. The moment it leaves contact with her skin, the dreadful thing will kill her! It needs her, so it has made her need it!

But Evelise is not the only thing I must worry about. Kel'tira was taken....to be sacrificed by demons for their ritual of some sort. I hate demons, I just hate them! they cause me much too much trouble! I wish they'd just leave me be.....Alenthis told me of this ritual when we spoke yesterday. I asked him to try and get Kel back...the fellowship needs her! But they speak to him, he told me of voices in his head....and I worry about him. He to,d me he isn't himself when he's alone....I saw some of what they've done to him. The eyes.......the red eyes......

Oh, and I remember little of it, for most of the time I was unconcious, but a warrior I believe Tyrael was his name...he came when I was in the plaguelands with Alenthis. He fought Alenthis, and ....he hurt him...I don't like this Tyrael either.

A list of some sort has been formed at the bottom of the page.

1. Demons. Demons! Light I hate them...
2. Tyrael
3. If Solorin touches him....or that Paladin...

Andorhal. A wretched place if ever you wanted such a place. Forsaken everywhere, and while I know they are our allies in the Horde, it is sometimes difficult to discern them from the Scourge we are fighting. The air is putrid from whatever the Forsaken are brewing in their wagons and vats setting around the compound. The air is almost oppressive.

I find a refuge where several of us new replacements are resting and preparing for our assaults on the Scourge. I spongebath some of the grime and filth of the place off my body, and seem to have attracted the attention of one of our new recruits. She's young, and I shake my head as I finish my clean up and put on a fresh tunic. I lie down to rest before my first steps into the fray here.

The next morning, feeling refreshed and after a quick breakfast, I take on some orders to kill something called Opengut Behemoths and some defenders. The abominations fall easily to my attacks, and I made the mistake of taking on some deathmages near a tower. I am quickly surrounded by skeletal warriors that rip at me and tear at my armor. A judicious application of Holy Wrath and Consecration aid me in destroying them in time, and throwing flashes of healing keeps me standing against the onslaught. Then I remember the grenades I was given, and the skeletal warriors fall easily before me. I destroyed the construct that was creating them, and breath a sigh of relief.

As I looked around the field of battle, I heard a female cry , and turn to see the recruit from the night before fall to her knees before one of the abominations. Without thinking, my shield is thrown and hitting the behemoth standing over her. As he turns to attack, my axe does a quick job of defeating him. As I turn to attend to her, several defenders and humans attack us. Again surrounded, my shield flies to damage several of them, and my spells give them second thoughts as my Hammer of Wrath brings down some of the frightened humans.

She tried to breath but seemed to be having difficulties, and I lay my hand upon her and cast several healing spells to relief some of the distress she's having. Then, I picked her up and carried her to camp, where several medics take her from me and begin looking her over.

The afternoon flies by as I fight well into dusk, and I make my way wearily back to camp. I find myself some hot food, and sit on my cot, enjoying the first food I have had since daybreak. As I begin to remove my armor, another pair of hands assist me. I turn and see the young girl I had rescued from the battlefield.

"I am Kistrel, a warrior, and I thank you for you aid today." She smiled, and it seemed to light up her features.

"Twas nothing, milady. Glad I could help." I winced as I lifted my shoulder gear and chest armor off.

One of my many foes must have gotten a lucky blow, and my shoulder was bruised deeply. She stared at me as I quickly prayed and lay my hand on the bruise. The light took away much of the soreness, and the bruise went from deep purple to a pale green color. I flexed and rolled my shoulder to make sure it was still useable.

Kistrel reached out and touched the bruising. Her soft touch was somewhat comforting, and she massaged my shoulder a bit, her hands strong and and relaxing. I thanked her and put on a fresh tunic. I lie down on my cot, and soon found myself dreaming of Jahana.

Kel'tira Sunblaze: The Dead

It was a symptom of my condition, if that is what you want to call my state of mind. This... drifting. The portal felt like it turned me inside out. It felt like it turned me inside out. And after that... It was harder to come back to myself for long periods of time. Alenthis knocked me out, I know that. the combination of the concussion he must have given me and the portal trip... it was a very painful kind of hell to lay there and watch, but be unable to act.

When he did finally pick me up from the boat where I had lain for those long hours, I had found a shard of metal, and I would have been willing to go through with my plan for death to put a halt to him, willing to carry out that act that I had so many times found myself unable to complete. The sensation alone was enough to jolt me back to my senses, and the metallic scent of blood that filled the cabin helped that process.

But yet... it was not me. I went with him, and another teleportation almost killed me, I think. When we arrived in the Blasted Lands, blood was still streaming down my wrists, and then... I collapsed. When I woke up, it was to the pain of being torn apart and reassembled. And then... silence.

Blessed, silent, darkness.

If this is a symptom, what then, is the cure?

Am I doomed to float in this darkness? I am not hungry, and I cannot breathe, nor do I need to breathe. It is painfully still.

And I am alone.

My mind is growing increasingly chaotic, too full of memories and too few emotions. Except my hatred... that, I can cling onto for dear life, it will never fade and it will never leave me. And oh how these people give me a reason to hate.

I need to speak with An'giel. I know who killed Malathir, and such things need to be known among kin. My bonds, my memories, faded as they are when it comes to my deeper past, remind me of a lighter time, though she may be too young to know. I already believe she knows about our people, however. She constantly reaches out to me, tries to draw me into her life, but the last letter I received from her was too old to trace. When it comes to our blood line, we like to move. So finding An'giel means I have to speak to Kel'Tira.

Of course, she gets kidnapped. Not that anyone said anything, at least not when I had my stone active. They act as if this is perfectly fine, natural, and there is nothing to worry about. Which is fine, I don't need to be covered in tar, asking for suggestions in getting it off (and only so much of it could be, Shadow and I both had to have our hair cut), and be told the one woman I -have- to speak to is missing. But it would have been constructive to know.

When I was told, they spoke of a tainted forest. Light forbid these idiots remember that this world and beyond is full of tainted forests. Depending on the definition of taint, it could mean by more than one thing, as Ashenvale Forest is certainly tainted by Deathwing, as can be see by the large volcano in the middle of it... I ask which one, and am met with silence...

Until I am told that they lost her. No. Nevermind the fact that I asked to be told if they had more information. Of course I would have detoured to help. I -need- Kel'Tira alive. I need her information so I can set what is wrong right. Because of their blundering incompetence, Kel'Tira was lost, and I am stuck sending letters, hoping that An'giel is even reading them at this point, or is in an area that can even receive letters.

Even lying with Shadow, I feel no comfort, instead grinding my teeth as he sleeps in, wishing that I had their flesh between my teeth. To make them scream... to taste their blood as my blades hunger. I try to stay... remain patient... but my patience is failing me greatly. I have spent all I have to offer on this Fellowship that An'giel praised so... For they are selfish and completely incapable. They would do well to pray that Kel'Tira returns soon, least she come to find her pretty little fair weather friends fallen... I am close to that point, for murder should be met with murder. And I consider these people guilty.

~Silver Truesong

Alenthis sat in the chair, blankly staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room. He had died. He had been damned. For the few hours he had been dead he had been tormented and tortured...and then he woke up. The demonic taint was gone, but now a new problem arose. He was a slave to Viragona. She had a piece of his soul on her at all times. He sighed. She had just given him orders and left.

Alenthis thought for a moment. He remembered his time dead and shuddered. Alenthis now knew what happened to those who lied, cheated, and made deals with Dreadlords. He HAD to redeem himself...but how? He couldn't help the Fellowship...Viragona would know...he could however work sloppily enough for her that the Fellowship took notice. Alenthis had decided one thing already. Before he seriously thought about a way to escape Vira's command, he would help her destroy Tyrael. That man was no good for anyone. The Fellowship, Viragona, and apparently even the Burning Legion. Alenthis frowned. Viragona had told him to hunt for the rune of War. Luckily she had spotted it recently. In between the Tauren's new gate and the human base nearby. He stood up and made his way down through the tower. Perhaps, once the Fellowship stopped this woman...if they stopped this woman, Alenthis would be free again.

Alenthis thought of Lyrilia. He smiled to himself. Viragona hadn't told him specifically NOT to speak with Lyrilia...so he would find a way. With the demonic taint gone from his mind, he could see clearly...and he loved Lyrilia.

He reached the bottom level of the tower and donned his new armor. Viragona had wished for him to return to his roots. A Death Knight. He placed the large helmet on his head and smiled to himself. Perhaps with the helmet, the Fellowship wouldn't figure out that he was a reborn slave to Viragona. He didn't want anymore hostilities between them than their had to be. He would have to do something about Solorin though...he was simply too strong to overlook. He shrugged slightly to himself. Solorin and his wife were still wanted by one of Alenthis' business partners. Perhaps the deal could still work...

Alenthis de-activated the shield and stepped out into the rain. He turned and powered it back on. He walked towards the edge of the forest. He hoped Kel'tira was alright...thinking of the ritual made him sick. He couldn't believe that he had actually hurt someone like that. He had so much respect for Kel'tira's leadership...and the demonic powers had driven him mad. He had harmed the Fellowship, which he had grown to love. He mounted his rocket and blasted off towards the Blasted Lands. Perhaps if he could track the portal shards he could find Kel'tira and return her to the Fellowship...but he didn't have long. He had to get to the barrens and search for the Rune of War.

The diary of the warlock is sitting in a chest, locked by magicaol means and trapped.

Today I found another tool to use in my search for the runes. I do not totally trust him, he must prove himself to me. I know he has given up on his search for a dead wife...and now he thinks a paladin loves him...such a foolish death knight...what could she possibly see in a dead Sindorei. The death knights are unstable and unfit for anything but battle.

I prefer a "live" Sindorei...yes...one with living tissue and emotions. How long has it been since I have had someone actually care about me...is it too late? The demon inside of me promises the Rune of Desire will get me anyone I want. But who do I want? And how do I want him...aware he is loving a tainted vessel? Or blind to the truth and seeing only an illusion?

My heart aches for something more...but I fear I have gone too far now and I am destined to be alone..with only demons for company. The power that beckons me...so much power...is it worth it?

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((Another entry later in the week))

I have it finally!! A chance incounter with a party of Sindorei exploring Karazhan for treasure has offered me the chance to get the Rune of Desire. How simple it was to entice them into the room where the rune was affixed to the mirrored ceiling.

A wild romp with succubi and crazed courtesans left me tingling with the fun I have not had in ages. The handsome young mage caught my eye as he danced around avoiding the demons. His eyes often roamed my figure and I knew he was lusting for me. All of the members of the group were entranced by the treasures still cluttering the halls of Karazhan.

It allowed the handsome mage Numerian and I to sneak away and satisfy our lust. The rune dropped into my hands as the mage collapsed on the bed. He did not see the look of joy on my face as I held the key to opening the next section of the Tome. I almost felt sorry for him as he made an excuse to get back to his party. Little does he know what power he has walked away from.

The rune of Desire is so warm and enticing in my hand. It unlocks the Tome's darkest secrets, those of Desire and Lust...and the ways to obtain your greatest wishes. The Fellowship is doomed now...I can hardly wait to tell them. I can create such havoc now! It will be delicious!

An ornate scarlett leather tome with an intricate gold lock and clasp, and gold-edged pages. The name Lyrilia Dawnblade is inscribed on the bottom left corner of the cover, in a flowing, gold script.

The ink is smudged, and the paper is wrinkled in places stained by tears. Ink blots and inky fingerprints dot the page.

He is......gone. I have come to believe it now and Alen...is.....gone.

The next line is too badly run to read, but appears to have been written underneath.

Too soon....he is gone too soon....I hate myself for not being there. I hate Solorin!

Where is my light now? I hate it....just as I hate Solorin....too soon...gone..

A new list has been created below.

1. Solorin
2. Solorin
3. Solorin
4. Solorin
5. Solorin

Lyrilia pushes her journal aside, picking up her guildstone. Running towards the water, She throws it as hard as she can, watching it sink with satisfaction. Running back to her tree, she slumps unceremoniously to the ground picking up the note from her journal. Scowling as she reads it she shoves it back into her journal...the tears coming once again, a pure hatred in her voice.

"I suppose maybe I always need someone to dislike... but now I have a reason. A reason to hate someone, and that someone is Solorin."