World of Warcraft®

Kreindis hung on the wall dungeon, staring at his brother, holding a knife with a red gem on the hilt. The table behind him has the actived guildstone. Keyadrion moved closer, before making a quick slash across his chest, smiling wickedly as his brother's blood wet the edge of the silver knife. He prepared another strike quickly, and jabbed at Kreindis' arm. The blade sank into his flesh, just above his elbow, and he cried out in pain yet again. This made Keyadrion grin wickedly even more. "Are you enjoying it yet, brother? Do you enjoy the pain, and the tears of your lover, as you feel it?" Kreindis stayed silent, angry as he was at his brother, and as much he wanted to shout and scream at him.

Keyadrion shrugged, "Oh well. Nonetheless, I shall continue bringing your pain, and as a result your love's tears." He ripped the knife out of Kreindis' arm, twisting it as he does so. This earns another cry from him, and a long cut down his arm. Sheathing the dagger in a black sheath, Keyadrion draws his arm back, a large ball of shadow forming in his hand. He throws it forward, washing over his body. It wouldn't do any real physical damage, but it would smash against his mind. This made him cry out again, before the spell was ended.

Keyadrion laughed, walking back to the table and tapping off the guildstone, before walking back up to the keep, leaving Kreindis in the dungeon yet again.

I have always been able to say that I came back from wherever I was sent.

“Sir, the report on the Valley of Emperors.”

The pandaran monk looked over the report, “I thought we had taken care of that problem, but apparently not.”

“We watched them all night,” another monk rolled out a map and pointed to several locations.

“Are we certain?”

“Yes, sir.”

I have returned with bruises, small cuts, abrasions, and once, a sprained wrist—never severely injured, never carried back. Always, I have returned on my own accord.

“Send in two…” the pandaran rubbed his jaw as he considered the possibilities. “Send word to the female blood elf—Auxilia was her name? We will need her as well.” One stubby black fur covered finger pointed to a rather unassuming monk sitting in the corner with a mug of beer. “You will go, too. Ensure that she is successful.”

“Yes, sir!” the monk in question saluted with his beer mug.

I am not a physically strong person. I relied on my wits and speed if I find myself in a fight. I mostly try to avoid them… but I am not always so fortunate.

A dark figure slipped from shadow to shadow in the darkness, using the fallen stone walls as cover. She was moving slowly, quietly and as cautiously as she could as she would be easy pickings for the mogu if they found her. Not far behind her, another shadow slipped along. Much rounder and larger than her small frame, he moved with silence and grace.

Reaching the first building, he stopped and motioned. He would move in first, she would follow. Nodding her head she watched him disappear into the darkness. She waited a moment before stepping into the blackness after him. Retrieving the first scroll was simple enough. The second and third were a bit more difficult. The fourth proved to be their undoing.

I have always come home but, there is a first time for everything.

The pandaran monk stepped between three guards and the woman with the brown hair, shouting at her to run with the scrolls. He knew that this was his fault, he had been too impatient, he should have slowed down as she suggested. He was not going to let her pay the price for his mistake.

She was hesitant to leave him, but getting the scrolls to the Shado-Pan were the entire reason why they were here. She turned and fled, knowing that he was not going to make it out. Behind her she could hear fighting, there was the grinding of stone against stone and a loud boom. Still she kept on running, her footsteps light against the overgrown stone walkways.

Around her the ruins of the Valley of Emperors was coming alive with mogu.

I am sorry, but things do not always go as planned. I did my best, but sometimes the best you have isn’t enough.

The mogu’s heavy mace slammed into her, enraged by the sight of his two fallen comrades at the hands of this ‘elf’. She hit the wall behind her, her head connecting with the stone as she did. Small rocks showered over her as the frail structure trembled in protest. Rattled she rolled to the side, trying her best to get her head to stop spinning, but she was not quick enough. Again, the mace slammed into her and again she connected with the wall. This time, instead of coming up, she bounced off of it like a rag doll before dropping to the ground, her last thought being of a man with bright blue eyes grinning down at her. Slowly, he faded into blackness.

The mogu closed in to crush her skull, raising his two handed mace over his head to ensure the deed, but a blast of air blew him backwards. He growled and raised his mace as three Shado-Pan surrounded him…

Sometimes you are just overwhelmed and blackness is all that is left. There was one too many… just one too many… I am sorry… this was not your fault.

The pandaran monk carried the unconscious woman into the inn at the Shrine of Two Moons. He set her on a bed and pulled up the blankets around her. She had been unconscious when found and brought back to One Keg where they had cared for her wounds, but she still had not woken up. He glanced down at the instructions she had written should anything happen to her. It was routine—where should she be taken, who should be notified—and he hated when he had to resort to them.

She had wanted to return to the Shrine and had given a single name for notification: Solorin Sunsorrow. The monk settled in a chair with a bowl of noodles and a mug of beer at a table near the bed and waited for one of the two to show up.

This is not working. I heard Keyadrion with Krei again. And I barely kept silent. It's tearing my heart to pieces hearing him being hurt like that. As soon as the stone clicked off. As soon as I was sure no one would hear, I broke down again. I cried for a long time too. They kicked me out of the library for 'disturbing the peace.' So I just wandered the city for awhile. And then I saw the wolf. It didn't look like any wolf I've ever seen. It was very well built. A combination of strength and speed, for it was lithe as well as muscular. Its fur was a pure white. And I mean pure. Not a fleck of grey or black was visible, as with most wolves. Its eyes were blue, like the sky. The intensity of them was a bit startling. It watched me expectantly for a long time. No one else on the streets seemed to notice it, which was odd.

My curiosity got the better of me. I stood up and slowly approached, but the wolf trotted off a few feet and then looked at me expectantly again. I got the feeling I should follow it and I did. All the way to the front gates of Silvermoon. When I stepped out into the woods, the wolf was gone. I don't have a clue where. I ended up on a bench in the Court of the Sun.

Xalandir turned up and we talked for a while. He offered me his help and I accepted. I can't think about how lucky I am to be friends with Xal. He is probably the best friend I've ever had. So Xal and I took McCloud to the Wayfarers Rest. And sure enough the fox picked up a scent, which we traced to Silverpine Forest. I got to ride a dragon. And it was amazing. I felt so free and happy, like when I do magic. Eventually, we found ourselves at the entrance to a keep. I felt very uneasy around the place. Like something wasn't right. Xalandir insisted upon going inside to make sure Krei was there. He told me I should go and see his sister. And then he sent me back to Silvermoon.

I am split in two. Half of me hopes Xal is correct and Krei is located in Shadowfang keep. Then we can save him. But the other half of me prays he is wrong. If he really is correct and Krei is in there, that will mean Keyadrion is there too. And most likely my sister. I know Xal is good. He promised he would see me soon. But if Keyadrion finds our he is there..... No, I can't even think about that. I just have to be patient. He promised afterall.

So now I sit in Silvermoon, in the Royal Exchange. Yes, I plan to go and see Alex, but not just yet. I just want some alone time to sort my thoughts out. And yet I can't help wondering if Krei is okay. How about Xal? And what was going on with that wolf? I have no idea. But I guess I just have to wait, and everything will be revealed in time.

The door of the Shrine flung open, an orc flew through hitting the wall, "WHERE IS SHE!" screamed the Knight, his eyes filled with anger and sadness, the adrenaline in his blood flowing like fish in the creek. He made his way, no matter who tried to stop him, he threw everyone out of the way, until he ran into the monk..the monk hit him in several places at once, he was unconcious for a few hours before waking up, "Next time...I will kill you." the monked laughed, "No, No killing for me. I am the monk that was with your wife, let me take you too her."

When he saw her there...He broke down, and started crying...he tried his hardest to wake her up, he kissed her, the waved incsence by her nose, nothing....she would just lay there..."This is all my fault...If only I stayed with you...Like I promised, If only I...If only I was stronger...I could have protected you..If only..." his words cut off by tears, the sobs coming from him filling the room, he held one of her hands and looked at the monk. "I wish to be alone with her...." the monk nodded and left the too be.

Solorin did not care how long it would take her to wake up, days...weeks...years....mellenia...He would sit here by her side, and wait for her...he was not going to leave her again, never again, would he let her travel alone...it was his fault she was like this, he would blame his self for years...even if she told him it was not his...he knew damned well it was...

I awoke slowly, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, and I was hesitant to leave its warmth and softness. As I snuggled back under the blanket I remembered where I was and who was just across the room from me. I sprang from the bed, and walked slowly over to see if Karamia was still resting.

I was surprised to see her seated at the table and chairs close to her bed. She was sipping on some tea, and when she turned to see me coming her way, she smiled and called me sleepyhead. I smiled, but my heart was beating so fast in my chest, it was her, it was my wife. And I remember that smile so many times in my life, how it brightened my day, and bolstered my own frame of mind.

I sat down beside her, and poured myself a cup of the fragrant tea. It felt good going down, and I relaxed a little bit. But there was something different about Karamia this morning that I had not seen last night. And I asked her about it. She had discover the light a new! She was so excited, as she told me of the feeling of the light directing her, of using it at the practice field, and of learning she could heal too. I nodded as she told me of how it felt to use the light and learning she could wield it so well.

I told her that she was a Sin'dorei Blood Knight paladin. And I told her of fighting beside her, and watching her and thinking how beautiful and graceful she had looked, casting spells, and smiting foes with her hammer. How she had sparred with me when I was just entering the Fellowship, and being on the receiving end of some of her blows. We both chuckled and I reached over to touch her hand, and look her in the eyes.

"The light has been so very important to you, Karamia. You onced used it to save my foolish hide from myself when I threw my life away trying to kill one of the tall, giant rovers of the Hellfire plains. It had been your devotion to the light, and your intense love for me that you were able to bring me back. I came back a changed man, Karamia" And I gently squeezed her hand, and gazed into her eyes. "I wouldn't be here but for your love, Mia."

I kept a hold of her hands, but I looked at the table as I spoke again. "Recently, you wondered if you were falling away from the light, that I might be a distraction to wielding it. And you had left to seek the answer. I thought I would lose you, Karamia."

Kreindis lay on the familiar red couch in Tislina's room in Wayfarer's Rest. He looked to be asleep, but he was not. Nightmares had kept him up, despite the fact that he was back safely with the woman he loved again. He looked over at her, asleep on the blue bed, and smiled. He was glad he was back with her again. He had missed her so much in Shadowfang Keep, while captive. After a while of thought, Kreindis pulled out his journal, and began to write.

I have been rescued from captivity by my love, Tislina, Cyaer, and Arathiana from Keyadrion. Tislina was forced to take some pain for my return.

After my rescue we went to Undercity and Arathiana healed our wounds. Shortly afterward Cyaer and Arathiana left, but Tislina and I stayed. We taled for a while, before she told me she loved me. I said that I loved her too, and I did something I hadn't in a while. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. We both agreed it had been too long since we last kissed, and we had both missed the feeling.

Somehow we got to talking about her sister, and why she was against us. It is more like against me. Tislina said she said she didn't want to hurt her, but Tradissa wanted to get rid of me, because she feared that I would hurt Tislina. Apparently, Tradissa had fallen in love twice, and each didn't last: The first left her, and the other was killed. She feared the same would happen with Tislina and I, but we do not.

Anyways, after a while we left to Silvermoon City for the night. I cannot sleep, though Tislina appears to be resting well, knowing I am safe. But I am glad she is here.. she helps me fall back asleep.

Her presence comforts me, I suppose...

Kreindis yawns, and leans back in the red couch, closing his journal and setting it down. He falls asleep quickly, comforted by the presence of the woman he loves....

The red-haired woman sat in Brill, the familiar room silent except for the slightly erratic sounds of her breathing. Sobs had given way to choking breaths, and those breaths had given way to silent tears, and now her already frighteningly abnormal breaths came even more rarely, and rattled still more in her chest.

The unanswered questions turned over and over in her mind, just as she turned the black hood in her hands over and over. She felt bad about running off on Cyaer like she did, but he had not followed her. Likely her painful flight had turned him away from her again, and her thoughts ran down this and darker tracks.

Who had they buried in her grave?

Why did she chose to return?

What should she do?

Why?

The warrior sat at a wooden desk, various carvings running up the legs, the top smooth and bare. A red journal sat open in front of her, the pages blank, a deep amethyst quill sitting on it. A small stack of neatly folded letters lay on the desk next to it, a new one in her hand.

Unfolding the letter, she stared at it for a moment. The neat, painfully perfect writing of her cousin, in its midnight blue ink. Every letter written with impossible clarity, yet her personal flare still shined through. How the words curled here, and flicked up there, the ever-flowing air her script had. Nothing like her own writing. Folding the letter up again, she stared at it for a moment, the paper smooth in her hands. Her cousin never wrote too hard either, the paper always smooth and free of indents made by her quill, like she wrote with air. Taking in a deep breath, she unfolded the letter again and began to read.

She soaked in every word, analyzing every sentence, emotions running through her head with every word. Anger, Sadness, Frustration. Yet a small bit of warmth at one word, quickly shattered by the words following it, the words describing it. How she hated reading these, yet she must. Some part of her felt she needed to read these, to understand her cousin. To for once try and put herself in another person’s shoes instead of blindly accusing them of not knowing what they were talking about. Every letter said the same thing, the same accusations, and the same painful jabs at her and at someone else. The same pleas for her to rethink her choices, to understand why she did what she did, to just this once forgive…forgive the unforgiveable.

Placing the letter on the pile with the rest, she picked up her quill, dipping it in the ink and pressing it to the page…

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 another interesting day. I received a letter from Vandras asking me to see him soon to continue with my training…I can’t write about this…

They’ve let a High Elf into the guild. It happened yesterday, in Brill. She came with Alen to see what was wrong with Kel….This High Elf’s name is Cyndine, and Kel trusts her…Tislina trusts her...Alen trusts her. I do not. She is a High Elf and not to be trusted, never to be trusted. She had already deceived us with magic used to conceal her eye colour...to make them green. She told Kel a story, her story she said, I listened to it but I do not care what has happened to her…she is still a High Elf. She may make them to look green, but her eyes are still blue.

I still cannot trust her, and I am certain she will never prove to me that I can trust her. Yet I must give her a chance…as Alen asked.

Why must I do this, when my cousin sits in Dalaran writing me angry letters? Letters in which she tells me how bad Alen is, how she hopes Solorin finds him and does a better job this time around at killing him, how he isn’t to be trusted. Letters that constantly bash him...letters threatening to hire a rogue.

Why can she do it, and not I? Why must I see so much of myself in my cousin, when I think her such a terrible person…?

Another name hangs on the list in the Hall of Respite, not truly a member of the Fellowshop in life, but certainly one in death.

"Lina Sunblaze - Who died in my stead, and slept under my name."

The red-haired blood elf in the grave was not Kel, but she looked strikingly similar to her.

A coup...

It has to be. How they could bring themselves to kill her, and bury her as me, and set about telling all the Lady of House Sunblaze had fallen, I know not. What I do know is that I will never forget her.

My people are together again, coming back into a whole, a coherent whole, and drawing themselves together again. My call denial of pain brought Tislina and Lyrillia, whom I was grateful to see, and Alenthis and a woman named Cyndine, who I was less happy to see.

My plight also summoned another, it would seemed.

Alenthis... He came crawling back and asked my forgiveness, asked me for another chance after what he did to me. Asked me for a chance to redeem himself in my eyes. I stabbed him. I did, however, in the end, agree to give him another chance.

Cyndine. A high-elf, as it turns out, and I heard her story, and my heart went out to her, something it has been doing all too much as of late. She is one of us, and I expect to have trouble with the others dealing with her, but I will put her and Solorin in touch, two high-elves should find a way to work together.

Lyrillia seems to have returned to Alenthis' side, and I am not sure how I feel about that.

Tislina... I heard something about Kreindis, but she seemed... reasonable. I can only pray for them.

The other one... someone I had not seen in a very, very long time. Gear must have had someone watching me to know so quickly that something was wrong... But he came, he came with his strange smile, and his quirky mannerisms when I needed him. He has changed, and he has changed oh so much.

What could have caused him to come to me then, and not when I let go and fell? Why now, why not before?

I trust he had a reason.

Trust. I need to do less of that, possibly, or more. I am not really sure.

As for my fall...

I should write, but I cannot bring myself to retell that story again. I cannot force myself to live through another telling of who and what I may have become. I payed a price for my healing, I think, and everything hurts still. My broken bones still swell and ache, and my head still pounds, but with the aid of the Spirits of Harmony and Guillotine, I have improved greatly from where I was when I let go of Auxi's hand, from where I was when Cy found me.

I was prepared to die. Dimly I recall asking Auxi to end it for me if the fall did not kill me, and then... she did not. She called for help, which I cannot begrudge her. I would have done the same in the circumstances.

When Cy found me, I was in a bad way... Honeydew, getting ready to be transported to Orgrimmar. The monks had hoped that someone somewhere would be able to bring me away from death's threshold.

I would have died.

I could have died.

I chose not to.

A worn leather bound book, tattering at the seams, and pages warped and torn

I failed. I failed Kel'tira when she needed me most, I let her live. Next time, by the light, next time I will be strong in my resolve to complete my vow, my pledge to her.

I was selfish and more concerned for my own foolish reasons, than to let our verbal contract come into play. Isn't that why she asked me? Knowing I could, would be able to stand on that contract we made.

I love her with all my heart, yet I cannot let that stand in the way of my duty to her and who I am. I will give her fair warning...then leave it at that.

What have I become? I can see the blood on my hands every day. I wonder how Karamia can love me so much, but then she doesn't see the blood, only I do. Light find a way for me to cleanse these hands, a way to finally find peace with myself and with what I do.

Light, help me!

( Late Sunday Post >_< )

Kreindis yawned as he awoke to a quiet tapping on the window of the room he had been sleeping in. He slowly got up from the red couch, walking over to the window and quietly sliding it open. A silver dragonhawk was waiting, holding a letter with the Horde insignia on it. "Damnit... please dont be calling me away..."

He looked over at Tislina asleep on her bed. He didn't want to leave her so soon again. She had been so happy he was back, and he was happy to be back with her... He took the letter from the dragonhawk, and opened it, hoping it was not what he thought it was.

Kreindis cursed briefly in Thalassian as his fears were confirmed. "This cant be.. why so soon? Why..." He sighed, walking to his journal, and taking out a piece of paper, he begins to write to Tislina so she will know his location...

Tislina, I am sorry to be leaving you so soon again, but... the Horde calls. I'm being called to Sholazar Basin...

I wish as much as you do and more that I could stay. But I cannot deny the Warchief's orders, as much as I want to. So I must go..

Promise me you will stay safe until I'm back, okay? I have enough trouble not getting hurt myself.

- Kreindis

He placed the note by her bed, and gathered up his things. Armor, journal, weapons, and clothes. He stuffed everything into his pack, except his sword, which he put in its sheath, and his armor, which he put on. He glanced over at Tislina before walking over to her. He leaned down and kisses her on the forehead before walking to the door.

He opened it, closing it behind him, walking out of the inn, onto the very familiar streets. After a moment of thought, he whistled sharply, and he smiled as his Charger came.

He mounted, making himself comfortable on the saddle he had rode upon so many times, before willing the Charger forward, riding off to Sholazar Basin...

The day started out much like any other one. The young Sin'dorei lad stretched out fully in the bed of the inn. He liked the textures of the cloth and warmth of the blankets, he liked this place. As he got up to begin his morning rutuals he noted that his beautiful bride was already up, and gone. "If I know her, and I like to think that I do," Cyaer thought to himself, "She's out training or building her stamina for our little explorations into this pleasant place we were calling home."

He thanked Kiki for the fresh tea, and opened a worn leather bound book, tattering at the seams, and pages warped and torn.

I am surprised and delighted in some of the things that Karamia has remembered. I go slow so as not to tax her mind, and to let her come into the memories on her own. Sometimes it is only a word, and she asks me what it means to me. Others, it is a taste or fragrance that comes to her and she vaguely remembers something tied to it. I try to be as gentle as I can as I explain or touch upon something she asks about. Sometimes in the explaining, I open new thoughts or memories, and I enjoy her as she learns new things about herself, about me, and ourselves.

I honor her by sleeping in another bed. I would not force myself upon her nor sully the love we have shared in the past with anything that wasn't right or ill-timed. Though my arms ache to hold her, and my lips desire her kisses, I wait, biding my time. I have faith in our love, and we will find it together. It will only be the sweeter when the time is right...it was in our past, so it shall be in our future.

I sip my tea, awaiting my love's return. I shall chronicle our time together, for in the writing, the feelings and thoughts are kept fresh for the re-readings. What can I say I love this woman with all my heart, and will do anything to help her grow and mature. A part of me looks to see Karamia return to being who whe was, and another part grows to loving who she is now. Either way, I am in her life, and she likes me.

Her smile, her laughter, her flashing eyes...all a part of the woman I love each and every day. And I hold on to our past...but should I...or create a new future with Mia?

Kreindis walked quietly through the jungles of Sholazar Basin. He wasn't assigned anything right now, so he had been exploring the jungle in the dim morning light. He stopped at a small cliff overlooking a river, and he could see the sun rising perfectly. It was a beautiful sight. Though, he couldn't help but be reminded of his and Tislina's spot, that was similar to this.

Kreindis still didn't like that he had been called by the Horde so soon. It made him wonder, 'Why now?' He only got a few hours of happiness with Tislina before this. She wasn't even awake for him to be leaving. Her only way of knowing was the note he had left...

Why hadn't he awoken her? Because he loves her, and he didn't want to disturb her deserved rest. That was often the case when he left for some place. He wished he didn't have to leave. He wished he could stay with her, and never have to leave. Like when he was being sent to Hellfire. When she had rested her head upon his shoulder, and he had wrapped one arm around her...

Kreindis turned from the spot at the sound of a bat. Normally, this would have confused him, but he had met a number of Troll druids that would take a bats form to fly. He wasn't surprised to see the bat shift to a leather armor wearing troll, that spoke shortly after transforming.

"De ogres be preparin' dere attack, mon. We need ya' out dere." Kreindis nodded. "I'll be there in a moment." The druid shifted to a bat again and flew off.

Kreindis sighed, walking away from the cliff a few feet before whistling a sharper, louder one than for his Charger. This time, his wind rider flew down.

Kreindis mounted quickly, and flew off towards the Horde's base. He had an ogre attack to defend it from...

It was night; she could hear the crickets outside. Three candles burned on a table near the bed, providing some small amount of light in what appeared to be a large, dark room. She blinked, her eyes having little trouble adjusting to the darkness.

Where was she?

In a bed, the sheets sliding against her skin—someone liked the sheets—who? Her muddled mind struggled to work, to start making sense of where she was and what had happened.

Someone called her name; she was not alone in the bed. Cautiously, she turned her head and stared in surprise at the man sitting there watching her. She looked at his face, dimly illuminated by the candles, he was handsome—familiar… Her gaze moved over him: broad shoulders, strong arms, tall…

The pieces were slowly coming together. Her brain was slowly coming to, moving her forward out of the fog. She was at an inn—something about moons… Two Moons. The man, who was now staring at her with growing fear, was her husband. She tried to speak his name, Solorin, but her tongue wasn’t up to form more than one syllable. Giving up on his full name, she opted for Sol, but the name died on her lips as he shook his head and walked out, leaving her sitting on the bed to try and sort things out on her own.

Where was he going? She wondered. It seemed that she would have to work through this on her own… dimly, it struck a familiar tone and a sense of déjà vu settled over her.

He came back and thrust a note in her hand, begged her to remember, then turned and left again. The handwriting was hers and she read over it. It provided little in the way of enlightenment on how she came to be where she was, but it reminded her that she had something that would work.

She worked her way out of the bed, her muscles stiff and sore, and made her way unsteadily towards a table where her bag lay. She reached in and pulled out two journals and began slowly thumbing through them. The words were familiar, the memories firing easily.

Sometime later, he returned again, this time with food. He set the plate on the bed and walked off again. He was only going as far as the next bed, but it was far enough. He wasn’t staying to help her, to talk her through waking up from whatever happened. She’d just have to work through it on her own; sadly, she thought that it was not the first time nor would it be the last time he’d leave her to her own devices.

***
(New entry in a light green leather journal etched with a tree)

Apparently I was knocked out when I went to the Valley of Emperors to retrieve some scrolls. I don’t remember all the details, just that I was with a monk and he lost his life so that I could keep mine. It is a sobering thought.

My husband stayed with me during the time that I was unconscious, for which I am grateful, but he walked out after I woke up and was struggling to put all the pieces together. He was upset that I wasn’t remembering things right away, but honestly, he didn’t give me five minutes to get my head straight. He didn’t stay to talk to me and ask me questions to put my thoughts together; he didn’t stay to help me at all. He just brought me food and gave me a note that I had written to him and walked to the next room, leaving me to my own devices.

Once I was thinking straight again and moving around he came out again. In the end, I ended up consoling him that I was alright verses the other way around. I know that he was scared, but I was, too. Instead of me relying on his strength, I had to give him mine.

It is another sobering thought.

A few sheets of parchment, and faded black ink

In the past, when I met or ran into my lovely wife, I would immediately take her in my arms, give her a wonderful hug, and then give her a kiss. Today, I tired of waiting on Karamia, and went to see what that wonderful woman was up to, and when I met her I gave her a warm hug, and hesitated in giving her a kiss. But gave her one anyway. Just one of those little glitches I try to keep straight in my head, as I do not want to force my self or my affections on Karamia.

We met at the bar/cantina in Honeydew Village. We so enjoy the music and atmosphere there. We like to relax and talk there. And we chatted. And then I offered her my personal journal to look through, to help aid her in remembering, whether by a phrase or pairing of words. She was so taken that I offered her my personal thoughts and feelings that I had written down. She is so precious to me.

Unfortunately, as we started to read one entry, it brought up a few questions, and as I answered it became more confusing and overwhelming for her. I need to slow down, and pace my responses and allow her to assimilate all this new information I give her. We sipped some hot tea, and just enjoyed each other's company for awhile.

A few sheets of parchment, and faded black ink

We went exploring our environment nearby, and I am amazed by the various races and types of life so close to our little safe haven of Honeydew Village. And of course the Alliance.

I can feel the resentment of the Pandarens in our bringing our war to their shores. I resent the violence and death we bring here. And yet I fight and continue to support the Horde. yay, for the horde...sorry, I lose my enthusiam for it quickly.

We work side by side, and I feel that familiar rush of fighting alongside my beautiful wife, watching her using the light, and her graceful style of battle. She too found out just how dangerous and deadly I could be in battle. And somehow that awakened a memory in her. We compliment one another in battle, while I slash and smash, she heals and deals spells that allows us to move quickly from one foe to the next.

I am loving this, fighting by her side, and seeing new places of Azeroth. I love my wife, my Karamia, oh so very much.

A few sheets of parchment, and faded black ink

She tried to show me but I was watching our backs, when I turned around my heart nearly stopped. It was magnificent, beautiful and so calming to see them - Serenity Falls. We swam across the lake at their feet, and climbed out upon a small island. The mists of the falls were all about us, and I was so taken by the view.

I sat down, and looked out across the lake we had swam across. In my mind's eye I could see the goblins building generators fueled by the fall water, and the lake polluted by their filthy engineering, and I clenched my fists. I didn't want to see that, I didn't want to see the explosions and flares igniting the skies and clouds. I didn't want to see any of it.

She came and sat beside me. We talked momentarily, but when she reached out to touch my cheek, and felt a compulsion to kiss me, I didn't stop her. I kissed her full red lips, and felt my blood heat up, and she must have felt the same, as she pulled away, and her face flushed red.

I reached out to touch her cheek, and went to place a random strand of hair behind her ear. And I gently stroked her ear, as I whispered her name. She said she had a memory flash in her mind, but would not discuss it. We kissed one more time, and we went back to work.

What did she see? What did she remember? I wonder...

Two goblins hid behind rocks that were directly across from eachother. A thin wire crossed was barely visible across the gap in them, but the ogres couldn't see them at all. The goblins snickered as one of the many assaulting ogres ran over between the rocks, tripping and falling on its face over the wire. As the ogre squirmed around trying to get back up, the goblins leapt out from their hiding spots, a dagger in each of their hands. Each landed on one of the two heads of the ogre, and jabbed wildly, killing it quickly. Kreindis landed on his wind rider nearby the area of this trap, and quickly dismounted his wyvern, telling it to get to a safer distance.

As his wyvern flew away, he draws his sword and shield, sprinting at the nearest ogre. It swings a heavy hammer at the ground near Kreindis, trying to smash him, but misses, burying its hammer in the ground. Kreindis runs toward the hammer, now stuck in the ground, and sprints up the long handle, his blade ready. At the top, by the ogre's hand, he jumps up and jabs at the eye of the ogre, which would blind it temporarily. After the strike to the eye, Kreindis jumps onto the ogres left shoulder, and rapidly slashes at the ogre's neck. Blood sprays out as the ogre quickly dies, and the corpse topples forward. Kreindis had jumped off just before it began to tip, and had landed infront of it.

Kreindis ran to another ogre. This time, he slashed at its ankles, halting its movement and bringing it closer to the ground in pain. Kreindis slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of the ogre's neck, making it cry out in pain, before plunging the blade into its neck, marking his second kill. A couple of other Horde soldiers had finished off the rest of the wave of attack. Everyone waiting in silence for a few minutes. No ogres came. One goblin, dressed in dark red and black leather armor, spoke. " 'Ey, where'd all the ogres go?"

Just then, a heavy pounding sound came several times before a large, plate covered, giant axe holding ogre walked towards the base. It roared with fury, raising its axe, ready to bring it down to kill a couple of Horde soldiers. The same goblin that had spoke just a moment ago speaks again. "Ooooh !@#$....."

Korllis Dawnmist stood in Andorhal, in the Western Plaguelands, fighting a Scourge Abomination. He had spent most of the day training at the Peak of Serenity, to be ready to combat the Scourge here. So far he had defeated countless skeletal mages, spearmen, abominations, and skeletons. Any wounds he took he had already healed with the power of the mists he had been trained in. Little did he know those spells would not help him soon.

After Korllis had finished off the Abomination, he heard the shuffling sound of many skeletons approaching. He turned around to see hundreds - thousands maybe - of the re-animated bones. He drew his two swords, and charged into the group, his blades flying through the undead and cutting them to pieces. But soon he was overwhelmed. He could not swing because he was closed in on so much that he couldnt lift his arms. Then, the undead began to attack him.

He couldn't fight back. He wouldn't be able to survive much longer. The 'clawing' of the bony fingers was like a million tiny cuts every second to Korllis. It hurt badly. He cried out in pain one last time before he was throw to the ground, and the skeletons engulfed him into a world of darkness. He could see nothing. He could just feel the pain of the strikes, hear the bones rattling, and feel as he got closer to the spirit realm.

After a while, when he was only a few mere seconds from his death, Korllis began to think. "I wonder why I never got to experience anything in life... I never met a woman to love, never had any friends, never knew anybody outside of my fellow trainees... I wonder why I was never allowed by life to experience those things, and others..."

And with that thought, one final, strike to the neck finished him off. As it killed him, the undead stood, and began to walk away from his bloody, severely cut corpse. What nobody could see was the Monk's spirit ascending to the heavens... to a more... peaceful place. To somewhere without war, without pain and sorrow, without any hate...

Today I returned from Sholazar Basin. The last battle I fought had been with a large ogre, which made an axe cut across my chest. After taking a while to heal, I left. Anyways, on my way back, Kel'tira called for me over guildstone.

She said she needed some help with healing, as her own spells wouldn't last. I went to Brill, and after helping her, I asked if she knew where Tislina was. She didn't, but then she asked me a question about something that now I'm thinking about it, maybe I should have been thinking about it more before now.

It was the question of when Tislina and I are to be married. The answer is... I don't really know. I would like to marry her, but, there are things to think about and do first. Buy a ring, think about how I shall ask her, think about where to ask her...

Ah, I know! I shall buy her a beautiful purple ring, purple is her favorite color. I will propose to her at our special spot, or somewhere nearby.

But, one question still lingers. How am I to ask her? What should I say, what should I do...?