Journal of the Rising Sun Fellowship (IC #2)

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Kreindis Blazestride

Yesterday I was visited by Jahana in the Hall. We didnt talk about much, until that pirate showed up again to check on me. As Jahana was leaving Kel came and was able to get me out of the Hall for a while, and we talked for a short time. She said she wanted to bring a lightness of mind to the Fellowship, and her idea was a birthday party, as she turns one-hundred and fifteen this Saturday. It doesnt seem like too much a bad idea to me. She also told me something that Kel'thul told her as he died. I will not write it down, as certain people may read these things, and Kel told me to keep it a secret.

There is still no sign of Tislina, though Kel convinced me a little that she would be okay. I shouldnt doubt Tislina's intelligence, she will be safe... I just hope those words are true.

The healers let me out of the Hall today, and while running an errand for my trainer I ran into Kel in Brill. She was talking with a man named... Vladamir I think. He looked almost like a mercenary, to me. I wonder if I'll see him in the future.

My wounds are healing well, and my limbs are returning to working order. I can again swing my swords and block with my shields, though I still have to wait a while before I can use my heavier maces again.

I'm going to train a little more and then rest for a little while. I have nothing else to write about, anyway...
The elf strode out of the throne room, on to the steets of Orgrimmar at a brisk pace. An Orc trailed her. He seemed to be pleading with her.

"Tislina, please give us more time."

"No, Norgrom. No more time. I have been here for a week, an I have been working nonstop, I am exhausted."

"But, the warchief needs you. We have to discover an advantage over the Alliance, and we are so close. We have plenty of men, all we need is your help."

The elf turned on her heel to stare the Orc straight in the eye.

"Norgrom, open your eyes. Like it or not the Horde are stretched thin. Garrosh has our people everywhere imaginable, and I will tell you the same thing I told him. There are no resources magic wise that can be exploited against the Alliance. Now if you will exscuse me, I have somewhere to be."

The Orc started after her. "Where are you going?"

"Silvermoon City, I intend to catch a zepplin to Undercity and then use the tranlocation orb."

"Why there?"

"It is my home, more importantly my beloved should have returned from Hellfire Pennisula, and I am eager to see him."

The Orc nodded. "Tislina."

She turned. "What?"

"It has been an honer working with you, Lok'tar Ogar , friend."

Tislina smiled. "And you as well." With that she turned on her heel and strode toward the zepplin towers.

Toward her home.
I found it, my fathers grave...and my own....Wintergrasp is where Theiel "Solorin" Aleksander Sunsorrow Hero, Father Husband...That is where I am burried, I am full of rage, Hate, anger Dispair...I am a monster!! I am not ment for this world and I can tell by the way they look at me...No one cares, no one can love a Monster!! If it is a cold hearted monster they see...It is what they will get...I will Kill Viragona...then I will leave...I will leave them behind...they do not care about me..I love Auxilia...there I said it!! I !@#$ING LOVE HER!....But that will never matter..she does not feel the same...this I can tell, they pity me, I do not need their pity, I am a Shadow Lord!....And a monster...

*Tears, fill the page as his heart breaks to write all of this, His mind is weary and he is irrational, his hair begins to turn blue as His body begins to become cold to the touch, his heart freezes, like a block of ice.*
It is my birthday. I will stick with that.

Sol is alive. He has decided to come back to us as himself. Thank the Light.

Ash and her... friend... placed some curse on me. They said it would sleep until Viragona dies and they nudge it towards vengeance. She said I needed to see.

What is this nonsense?

----

The whole world was watching, she could feel it, as if everyone, everything, leaned in close to hear, to see. The sword in her hand was bloodied already, and the dagger held backwards in an assassin's grip was too, the channel in the blade overflowing and sending crimson liquid over her fist.

Red hair dragged in her face, and impatiently, she clawed it away, growling threats at the darkness that surrounded her. The sand at her feet was red, soupy, the blood of many already soaking the earth.

Another shape moved in the darkness, and Kel'tira Sunblaze grinned, a feral sneer on her face as she sank into a crouch, waiting. The man that approached her almost made her stand and turn, running from what she had done, almost, but not quite. Cyaer Sunblaze watched her, her dream-self rocking back as he approached, speaking calmingly.

Half of her wanted to believe him, the other half decided his body belonged in the darkness with the rest.

The darker half of herself won out.

There was no ceremony, no trading of blows. There was no contest between the armed, angry paladin and the unsuspecting rogue. Why would she attack him? He was her cousin, her brother. There was no doubt in her eyes, though, until after she drove the blade into his neck, severing his spine cleanly.

Only then did she look down at the body of her friend and seem sad. The emotion did not last, as she looked up, and the next figure neared, Cyaer's body melting into the blood-soaked ground.

Auxilia, Aseria, Karamia, Solorin, Kreindis, Alecca, Tislina, Theiel.

Her friends, her family, her loved ones, all fell before the cold fury that held her.

Nicias.

Her husband walked to face her, and she dropped her weapons from nerveless hands, sinking to her knees in the sand. Her armor blood-drenched, her eyes blank. He pulled her upright, held her, and she cried.

Minutes passed of silence before, by some unspoken signal, the couple pulled apart and she reached for her boot, and the dagger tucked there. An instant too late, he moved back from her, the knife scoring a cut across his chest.

Betrayal and anger showed in his eyes, mixed with confusion and fear. Her name was on his lips as her dream-self stepped forward again, flipping the knife to catch it by the blade and, almost carelessly, throw the weapon. As he collapsed, she watched, coldly, emotionlessly, the blood of her lover drenching the ground.

She kicked the corpse contemptuously and walked away, the darkness swallowing her.


----

Gasping, Kel sat up, the bed in Brill unfamiliar, she whimpered, muffling a scream as she bit down on her cheek hard enough to draw blood. The taste of iron in her mouth made her sick, and she slumped back, sweating, upset, and scared.

The dreams. I was warned I would dream, I was warned I would see things... A slow slide into insanity...

No. No no no.

I will not think on this... I will be happy, cheerful, even. A strong face for my people.

When I talked to Cy yesterday, I made him promise to do whatever needs to be done to keep our Fellowship and our House safe, from everything. Including me if it comes to that.

I have placed my life in his hands, and will warn Nic of this if I can bring myself to, later. I trust them, Nicias and Cyaer Sunblaze, my family, more than anyone else, and they are the ones who I believe I can trust to kill me if need be.

And Sol, I trust Sol.

The party, I need to get things in order for the party.

I hope Nic shows up...
Kreindis Blazestride

Tislina has returned... it is so good to see her again. We talked for a while in the Hall of Blood, and I showed her my wound and told her about what happened directly after I recieved it. She didnt know what to say. Soon after we split up to prepare for Kel's birthday party, which was in eight minutes at that moment.

At Kel's party we swam in the pool, drank some light alcohol, ate admittedly some of the best food I've had in my life, and gave our presents to Kel. There was a pretty wide variety of gifts, going from little dolls to the golden necklace I gave her, to a small robot. After gifts were given, Tislina, Kel, and I went swimming for a little bit longer. Tis had to go, sadly, and everyone else started trickling away as well. I was the last there along with Kel, who talked with me privately for a bit. I cant quite remember what it was we were talking about (( I seriously cant >_> )) but I do remember she was trying to teach me something. I also remember her trying to say something and when she couldnt, it was a little funny. She left soon after, and I did as well. I didnt have any reason to linger.

Thats all I have to write about, for now.
The woman with the brown hair walked through the streets of Silvermoon, a mug of hot tea in her hand, a brown bag hitched up on one shoulder and a pair of sturdy sandals on her feet. She had recently become of the opinion that one should not underestimate the value of a sturdy pair of shoes. It was still very early in the morning and as she entered the Hall of Respite, she knew that she would be alone.

She was intent upon the book cases, but as usual, a list caught her eye; it was one that Kel’Tira had kept in memory of those who were a part of the Fellowship and had lost their lives. It was a sad piece of news, but it was also the way to honor someone’s memory. She reached out and ran a finger lightly over each name, reading each one in turn. She stopped when she reached the last name, her hand pulled back as she reread it. Slowly she reached out and placed her fingers over it.

Solorin Sunsorrow – Defending his people

She bit her lower lip, her mind running over their last conversation and finally dropped her hand. With a sigh, she walked out of the Hall and made her way to an out of the way bench. She set the mug down beside and after rummaging through the bag, came up with a quill and journal. After a few moments, she began to write.

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

I had hoped that today would be a better day than the previous few. I feel like I have beaten up, drown and left hanging out on a cliff. I thought that coming back to Silvermoon would help, but…

He didn’t come back.

I saw the pain etched in his face as he struggled through his inner turmoil and tried to make a place for himself. Part of me wondered if the temptation to let the Alliance kill him would be too much and while I will never know if he was killed by a lucky blow or if he let them take him down, the end result is the same. He isn’t coming back.

I wasn’t prepared to feel my heart drop out like that when I read his name.

I need to think…

(This is unsigned)
The woman walking into the Hall of Respite looks nothing like her proud self. She is broken, beaten, and hurt. No physical wounds show on her body, but she carries herself as if she is in a great deal of pain.

Perhaps she is, too, for as she sinks onto the divan in the center of the room, she drops her pack with a loud clatter, the magically enlarged bag disgorging her plate helmet onto the floor. The metal of the helm rings against the floor, and Kel'tira Sunblaze does nothing to stop it.

Instead, she squeezes her eyes shut and growls a curse before staggering to her feet and over to the board on the wall. Leaning on the board, Kel draws a knife and carefully cuts the piece of paper bearing Solorin's name out of the list, leaving a rectangular hole.

Stumbling back to her seat, the paladin slumps down against the pillows, throwing her arms over her eyes, speaking in Common, "What have I done?"


Kel'tira Sunblaze

"Yeah, good luck with that, he's like a ghost."

"I remember listening to your screams over the guildstone."

"It won't be okay."

"Great...I 'll sit here on my hands waiting...I know it will be coming...and take care of the Fellowship. Go do what you feel you need to do."

Light... Cy...

What have I done?

Is this how I treat my family? I am afraid I have hurt him far beyond anything else I have done to him, unwittingly or willingly. I am afraid he could not see that what I do is what I think is right, what I see is best. Is it easy for me? For him? No. The right choices are rarely easy, rarely simple, rarely black and white.

Does he think I want to do this, any more than he wants me to? Does he think I am trying to hurt him? Light let that not be the case... Light let him see sense.

Is this how I treat my family, the ones I love?

There is no doubt in my mind, I do not believe he meant to hurt me. I know I did not mean to hurt him, if I did. Of which I also have no doubt. Either way it goes, I hurt inside, something fierce.

Something painful beyond what I know. To hear him, Cy, the only other man I trust as much as Nic, give voice to my secret fears, hurt more than anything else he could have told me.

He could have said he hated me, and that would have hurt less than, "he's like a ghost. I'm sorry, but I..I..nevermind, good luck finding him."

Why is it that this hurts so badly? Why is it that I cannot move on? Maybe I should just call this meeting with Viragona off?

Do I put him first, or what I think would be best for the Fellowship?

Where is Nic? My lover, my husband.

(tears stain the page, as if Kel has been trying to hold them back as she writes)

My ghost?
A new small leather bound journal.

The journal was removed from the backpack, as was a small bottle of ink and a sharpened pen. A hand goes across the cover, and gently caresses the leather cover. And finally opens the journal.

The young Sindorei stared at the blank page before him, an old friend, and confident. Yet his heart was in turmoil, and the words would not come to him...he looked once more at the page, the pen held at the ready...

The journal was closed without a new entry. It was grasped and held close to the young elf's chest, while sobs were heard, if there was anyone to hear.
You are trained in the Blood Knights to be prepared for anything...severe wounds and how to care for them, death of comrades on the field of battle and burying them, and eating some of the most disgusting things on this planet to survive. But I was caught completely unawares by what Jahana does.

I vaguely remember standing there as she gave a report to Guild Leader Kel'tira yesterday. And I tried to act normal, but I was stunned...and yet a part of me said "So what?". We had talked and planned on dinner after the guild meeting. And I walked behind her as we walked to the inn. She's a stranger...just as I am a stranger to her. She said it herself.

We tried to talk, and my mind was still reeling. I apologized and gave a lame excuse to leave. And I left...I don't remember being so rude to someone before, and it was to Jahana. Why am I having such a hard time wrapping my head around this? Maybe it is not my mind, but my heart that needs to look hard at this.
A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

I am cursed. And I am blessed. I am a monster. And I am a man. I died a warrior for the Horde. I was raised to become a deadly Death Knight under the sway of Arthus, the Lich King. I am free of his hold over me, and am a member of the Ebon Blades. Three lives, each different, each the same.

I am cursed to bear my third live in this undead shell. I do not require food, drink, or do other sundry things. I have no heart beating in my chest, nor breath in my lungs. I am not a living being. I have a hunger brought on by the Lich King...a sad sadistic hunger that makes me a monster. I see and feel the fear that some carry towards ones of my ilk.

My memories are intact, there are a few shadows, but by and large, I have those memories of my first life. Thanks to the help a young paladin, and my twin sister, I know who I was then. And I remember now.

The sages say that the heart is the seat of your emotions, how you feel, and hurt, and love. I do not believe in this crap. I have found the mind is where those feeling reside. It is the thoughts that illicit the emotions we feel...whether it is anger, sadness, joy, and yes, even love. And I can remember having those feelings before I became what I am now. And while my undead body does not cry tears, I still "feel" sorrow, or when I see my sister smile, I "feel" a certain joy in her happiness.

I ran into my ex-flame, Cyn. She asked if I remembered the passion we felt lying in each other's arm, and I said I did. But that I am no longer that man. It saddened me that she still seeks power in this life. It did not work for her as a warlock, and it will not work for her now as a Death Knight. Power for power's sake is a losing proposition. And she is still blind to that. A pity.

I fight for the Horde in Outland. It serves two purposes for me. One I still fight for the Horde to bring glory to the Sin'dorei, and two, I feed the hunger I have as this monster that I am. I receive praise from my superiors, and yet sense a distrust and fear they wear on them like clothes.

I feel my power grow out here, killing demons and such. It is a heady feeling, and I try not to relish it, but it is difficult...this was what I was created to be, a powerful warrior for Arthus...and now I am, for the Horde.
A new small leather bound journal.

It's going to be misconstrued as a fight, and it wasn't that. I gave my honest response to something my sister was planning to do. I know her heart is in the right place, and that she is thinking of a peaceful way to end this conflict with Viragona. But she's wrong.

I remember that she instructed me before to stay away, that she had to meet with Velin, by herself. And I still hear her screams in my dreams (more like nightmares), because I did nothing. I knew in my heart nothing good would come of it, and she told me not to come. To look after the Fellowship. Just as she did now.

I remember holding Karamia, and her holding on to me from the nightmares she had from that freaking witch Viragona. And yet, Kel wants me to stay here, while she hammers out a peaceful solution to Viragona. The witch is crazy! Just like that other one, Aseria. She is not to be trusted. But Kel will go, because that's just the way she is.

And I dread the moment when I will find out my fears were realized. Somehow "I told you so" won't bring her safely to us...me. And I will have that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach again...and would rather be in her place, than mine. I have my thoughts on why Kel does it, but I will keep them even from these pages...it pertains to a "dark place".

I know she holds on to that "ghost" of a husband of hers, Nicias. And I was there beside her hoping he would come...and he did not. But no longer, I cannot, I will not hold out for him any longer. He never even showed when she was held by Velin or after her rescue. What does it say about his "devotion", his "love" for his wife? Not much in my book. I dare say I love her and care more about her than he does. When will she realize that.

While it was never meant to hurt her, I'm thinking my honest answers were painful for Kel to hear. But the truth hurts, damn it! If I don't tell her the truth who will? Who? Solorin? I don't trust him...and yet she does.

I see her sinking deeper...and I don't want to be the one to kill her. But I love her enough to do it, and do it quickly, and painlessly. Will her mind clear before she dies, seeing me for what I really am? Will I see the Kel'tira I used to know and...

Oh, light help me to stay focused and on track.
A red journal...bound by a golden rope. A name is printed in gold on the front...Aseria Sunblade

I am a Sunblade. Aseria Sunblade, this is who I am.

Those who dare insult me shall be met with the wrath of my flames...

Have I possibly brought shame amongst my families name? Most likely...

Do I care? Perhaps, but not enough to do anything positive about it.

There is no way I can return to them, not after what I have become; a monster, a 'warm' blooded killer. I would have said cold blooded...but I'm a Pyromancer, so...

I managed to find a third item to complete my ritual for my accendance, however, I only managed to collect three so far....there are eight. The Twillight Hammer stand in my way, foolish and pathetic creatures they are...but in a way, they are kinda like me, insane and wanting to cause nothing but chaos and dispar...however, there is a difference, I have free will, a mind of my own to make my decisions, they are nothing but rambling cultists.

In anycase...that is all for now...I need to grab this item and return home, this cave is starting to stink a bit. Guess that's what happens when the cave is full of dead burnt bodies...

Aseria closed the book with one hand, the long blue quill that she had been useing vanished in thin air. Binding the book with the golden rope once more, she slipped it back into it's special waist pouch before continueing to walk deeper into the cave. Bodies littered the floor around the woman, some burnt to nothing but skeletons, some to ash. Most of the skeletons had bits of chared flesh still clinging to their bones.

Others had been fatally stabbed through the head, stomach and where ever else there was a vital organ, burn marks around the wound indicate that a hot, sharp item was used to both burn and kill the victims. Blood began to pool on the floor, making a sloppy splash every time Ash took a step towards one cultist that was still alive. The cultist had been slowly crawling towards a tent at the back of the cave, growling in a mixture of pain, fear and fustration. His legs where burnt to the point of which he couldn't stand. Ash had kept the cultist alive for one purpose.

When the Pyromancer easily caught up with the man, two rods appeared from her sleeve with a magical hum. The rods were black and looked like tortureing pokers, only they were the length of long blades. Blue runes began to appear along the lengths as Ash twirled them and kicked the cultist so that he would look at her. Twirling the rods again, she slammed the sharp tips of them right into the mans shoulders, pinning him to the ground so he couldn't move or make any attempt to defend himself.

The man, obviously human, roared in pain and struggled to free himself, but to no anvil, blood oozing from the wounds that were created by the black rods. Ash smirked "So...ready to tell me where the item is now?" she asks in common, her smirk turning into a wide crazed grin. The man struggled "Never! I will NEVER tell you!" he screamed. Ash's grin turned into a pout "D'aaaww...that's a shame, looks like I'll just have to kill you the boreing way, seeing as I don't really have time to make your scream in agony...consider this a mercy kill for being such a good foe at least..."

With that, she pulled out one of the rods and raised it up. The man looked at her terrified for a moment before scowling "Fool! The Twillight Hammer will--" "Shut up!" With a sloshy crack, Ash cut him off by driving the rod through his skull. Muttering a few words, the rods began to glow a bright blue before catching alight, setting the now fresh courpse on fire.

Sighing, Ash removed the rods from the body, her feet continueing to splash through the pools of blood on the floor as she walked to the tent. With the rods slidding back up into her sleeve, dissapearing from site, Ash looked around the tent to see if the box that contained the item she was looking for was there. She found it, in a small box resting upon a desk, which she walked over to and opened by casting a small fire spell to destroy the lock.

Opening the box, she looked inside to see a small rune with a symbol on it. What the symbol ment was unknown to her for now, but she planed to find out soon enough once she continues the research for it and the ritual.

Pulling out the rune, she smiled and reached to her waist to pull off two bags, each containing small but powerful explosives, enough to bring the cave down. Throwing them onto the floor carelessly, she muttered a portal spell which would take her back to Greymane Manor. The portal opened with a roar ready and waiting. Chuckling, she stepped through it, snapping her fingers to cause a small blue spark to fly towards the to bags. As soon as she was through the portal, she closed it, the sound of a large explosion would have been abrubtly cut off as the portal closed. Still looking at the rune, Ash grined "Soon....Fellowship....soon I will come for you..."
Tislina Dawnrunner sat on the edge of a clear, blue pond in Eversong Woods. The full moon cast a perfect reflection on the waters surface. For awhile she had sat looking up at the stars, but now she watched the pond. She simply sat there thinking. On the outside she was so quiet, but that was because on the inside memories moved. She closed her eyes.

A young girl sat looking over the water of a shining pond. The girl was Tislina Dawnrunner, and though this event came from the past, the two were so similar. Much like that same night the full moon cast a perfect reflection on the surface of the water. There was one very big difference though.

"Your late." said Tislina as she heard footsteps approach her from behind.

Laughter rang out. "Sorry, I had to finish packing."

"Packing, Tavarus? Your the one who wanted me to come out here in the first place, and then your late?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Aww c'mon Tis, your not really mad are you?" Tavarus said as he sat down next to her. Tislina sighed and laughed. "No I guess not. So, what did you want me to come out here for anyway?" Tavarus looked at her. "I came to say goodbye." Tislina looked up sharply. "What? But you don't leave till morning, why do you want to say goodbye now?" He shrugged "In case I don't see you tomarrow." Tislina looked down. "Tavarus, I'm really gonna miss you." He touched her arm and she looked up. "Im gonna miss you too, but there are a few things I want to tell you." He took a deep breath. "First, I want you to know that you are gonna be a great mage, I just know it." She nodded. "Second, look at the pond. You can see the moon clearly, right?" She nodded again. "What happens when I throw this tone in the water?" He tossed a good sized rock into the pond. The surface rippled. "It ripples and disoreints the moon." She replied He nodded. "But then when the ripples stop," he gestured at the now still pond, "the moon is clear again. Tislina this pond is a lot like you. When something happens, just remember it will all be okay." She slowly nodded.

"Finaly, I need you to promise me something." She looked at him. "What is it?" He took her hand. "Follow your heart, not your head. There will be times when you will be unsure of youself, but if you follow your heart, I swear you will never be wrong." Tislina nodded her understanding. "I... I promise Tavarus. I promise to follow my heart." He nodded satisfied then stood. "Good." She stood as well. They looked at each other for a moment then they hugged. "Goodbye Tavarus, be safe." She said. "Goodbye Tislina, you be safe as well. One day, I will see you again."

The flashback ended.

Tislina opened her eyes, only this time her brother was not there. She looked at the stars then back at the pond. "Did he know?" She whispered. "Did he know he would not come back?" She knew he could not have known, but as she thought, he had spoken as if it was there final goodbye. Without thinking she began to softly sing.

"In the dark of night
By only the moons light,
Taking its flight
Its powerful might.
What is this creature you may ask
and what could be its task,
I tell you this it is the wind."

She stopped her song. It was only a part of it. She stood up. Before she left as the wind blew she whispered two words into the gentle breeze. She thne turned and left. And the wind took her word everywhere.

"I promise."
A new small leather bound journal.

Kel'tira requested that I see her, she sounded, I don't know, weary, I guess. I dropped what I was doing at the Darkmoon Faire, and hastened to our Hall in Silvermoon City.

It was as I thought, words were spoken, and feelings were hurt. But I maintained my honest responses to Kel. I need to...I have to...speak to her with truth on my lips and in my heart. I will not lie to her, in any way if I can. Even half-truths are not welcome. Because, I believe she needs honest counsel, and especially from me.

I was so glad she was rethinking of going to this peace meeting with Viragona's people. And she had spoken to Nic (Well, if wonders never cease!) and we (him and I) will go to this meeting, while Kel'tira stays here in Silvermoon City. Could she read the relief on my countenance?

I have been worried so much about her, and after talking with her, found she has not been sleeping much if at all. The nightmares from Ash have been taking a hold of her. If I could, I would slay that witch where she stands, to protect my Kel from a fate that no one should have to endure...a slow spiral into insanity. The Fellowship will take care of it...and hopefully Kel'tira will be finally able to rest and recuperate a little. She seems so frail, and tired.

I met with Jahana. She showed me the two places Viragona is using, right in Alliance territory. She's not only crazy, but must be having flashes of brilliance too. The old keeps are perfect staging areas to find the runestones she seeks. Speaking of which, she has found the rune of Desire. She seeks to find the runes and have them when she needs them. And there are other warlocks aiding her, in the hopes of sharing in the power to be unleashed.

Power, I have never really understood the lure of it. The only power I know that is greater than myself is the love I have in my heart for my dear Karamia. She overwhelms my senses and I am held in her love. I would be her captive any time, any where - ah, Mia, I miss you so much. I need to rest in your arms again, and feel your lips upon my own. Soon.

Jahana surprised me with a request concerning another in the Fellowship. I will speak with them, to see what occurred, and find out if Jahana's cover has been compromised. She seemed very worried. My first thought was to neutralize the target, but since he is a member, and she asked that no harm be brought to him, I will obey her wishes.

Is this the kind of thing Kel'tira goes through daily? If so, I do not envy her...but then again, perhaps taking care of a few of these will help her to relax some. I spoke to Kel about delegating some of the guild pressures off on some of us. It's a good leadership quality, and gives us all a pride in helping the guild within. I hope she takes it to heart.

I also requested that Jahana go as an observer only in our meeting with Viragona's people. If anything should go wrong, and Nic and I cannot handle it, well, I want someone I trust going back to Kel'tira with what happened. And I trust Jahana. Explicitly.

I wonder how Karamia fairs in Northrend? I have not seen her for several days, and I'm finding myself beginning to miss her more than I thought possble. That familiar ache of needing her in my arms and just holding her close is heavy on my mind. Or just to hear her sweet voice in my ear again. Simple things for a simple man as myself.
Oh, it was glorious! The feeling of defeating so many at once, it's the most intoxicating feeling I have ever felt in this body. Oh...yes, it feels so very good...

I found myself on the plains of Outlands, where the demons are setting up camps to infiltrate and take over bits of real estate. I have decided to thwart some of those plans. I give a deep hollow chuckle as I move out to take on several of the big blue bastards.

The diseases hit them quickly, and I allow the fevers to spread amongst them. Then slash out with my powerful sword, an arm falls off my foe, as I feel the other's claws pound upon my armor. Black ichor splashes on the dust and sand, and my armor as the one armed demon falls, screaming out. But my attention is on it's companion, and my sword parries one of his claws, as the other claw scratches against my armor. I chuckle, it feels good to be here, quenching my hunger, and defeating these simple demons.

Then I am lifted off my feet and thrown several yards from where I once stood. I lost my focus and was distracted. Where once one stood there now stand three, with a dead companion lying at their feet. And the two new adveraries are the towering four armed wenches that stroll the area. I lift myself from the ground, the spell already forming on my lips as they rush to me. I become surrounded by the demons as the spell takes form all around me.

The screams of surprise as the spell hits them, brings a smile to my lips...bring it, you big flipping fiends! As the Death and Decay burns them, my sword slashes out and I send "Blue" to the depths of hell where it belongs, absorbing some of its lifeforce to heal some of the minor wounds I had incurred.

Their four arms reach for me, as I cast another spell to damage the she-devil before me, and I see her face grimace as the disease robs her of lifeforce. Then my arm is twisted and pulled as they try to lift me again. I pull myself down before they can get me off the ground, and can feel tendons ripped and pulled as I extricate myself from their grasp. Oh, the agony and the ecstacy of battle!

My feet stand a shoulder's width apart, and I slash with a spell on my lips, and both demoness' feel my wrath as the spell robs them both of lifeforce. One attempts to grab me again, and I dodge her claws. The other scratches across my armor, and inflicts a nasty slash across my shoulder. I grit me teeth as I set myself for their attacks.

Their combined attacks merely push me back abit, and I swing my great sword again. They both roar out as I give them a taste of my own type medicine. Mess with me, and lose your lives, you miserable wretches! One of them crumples as my previous spell falls off. The other looks to be preparing to charge, and I set myself to receive it.

Indeed it charges, and I step to the side allowing my sword to slash its stomach, and its putrid blood and gore splashes out upon the soil of Outlands as it falls first to its knees, and finally forward onto its face in death. I stand victorious and roar out a challenge to any of them that listen.

Hear me Outlands, beware the might of Jondular, Death Knight, and Deathbringer! Aarrgh!!!!
The day had passed slowly for the young Blood Knight, as he sat listening to the gentle splashing of the fountain behind him. The sun glistened on the ripples of the water, and warmed the shoulders of the Sin'dorei. His eyes were closed in thought, and the sounds of the falling water, calmed those thoughts.

'I owe her an apology at the very least,' he thought, 'she deserves that. How could I have been so rude?'

'And why the fuss over what she does for the Fellowship? We all have our own places in the rank and file of the guild. I am a guardian, one who protects and defends the others within the guild. Her position and contributions are no less important than my own. Maybe moreso, as what she can learn can aid our leaders to make informed decisions in and for the guild.'

The young knight leaned forward putting his chin on his hands. He stared out over the Sun Court, but wasn't really seeing it.

'I have been a fool, a fool's fool, perhaps. And I may have lost someone important in my life, my muse...Jahana. Over some preconceived idea in my mind. Have I lost her? Can I find reconciliation, and seek her forgiveness? I must send her a response to let her know, in answer to her own correspondence.'

The shadows of the trees had lengthened since he had sat down to think earlier. And evening was slipping in quietly, replacing the busy afternoon of thought. Neryth reached into his backpack, seeking out his sketchbook, ink, and quill. Finding a clear page, he began to write out the thoughts that had finally settled in his head.

The pen scratched the words in an almost calligraphical way, the beauty of the penmanship indicating that what was written here was finished in thought, and was being made concrete in ink. Neryth carefully removed the sheet from the book, and blew on the page to insure the ink had dried. Then he meticulously folded it into the envelope, and penned her name on the outside. And then set the missive on the bench, and broke into his backpack again, placing the items he had removed back in, and closed it up, but not before removing a hard biscuit to gnaw on as he sat enjoying the evening breeze.

Whether it had smelled the biscuit, or had just learned that food could be had, the tiny squirrel, came down from the tree, and cautiously sat at the end of the bench, its bushy tail flicking nervously. Neryth smiled, and broke off a small piece of the dry biscuit and set it away from him on the bench for the little one. The squirrel's nose sniffed the air, and it stretched itself out to reach the morsel, all the while watching the young paladin. When it reached the bit of biscuit, it pulled it close to itself, then instead of rushing back up the tree, it sat and began to nibble on the dry cumb of biscuit, its tail coming up over its head like a small parasol to protect it from the fading sun.

Neryth looked out over the plaza, absentmindly nibbling the hardtack in his hand. His mind was at ease with what he had written, his only hope was it would be read with an open mind. As he went to finish the biscuit, he felt a little tug on his sleeve. Looking down, his little friend was beside him, looking up with its cute little face, sniffing. Neryth looked at the last morsel, and gently brought it over to the squirrel. It took it, and this time ran up the tree to the first branch and then began to nibble on this new treat. Neryth watched for a moment, then stood, and brushed off any crumbs. He said good evening to the squirrel, and strolled across the plaza.

He was totally unaware of the shadow that broke away from the building, to follow him quietly back to the inn.The shadow stopped momentarily to pick up a small envelope lying on the bench, before moving on in its tracking the young forgetful paladin.
Kel'tira Sunblaze

I saw Nic yesterday. We spent an hour or two together in Eversong, eating lunch in a picnic style. I wish all of life could be like that, I wish I could freeze the moments we spend together, and live in those moments for the rest of time. It would make life all that much more bearable.

It did me wonders to be able to sit with him, and just talk. To just be with him, especially after everything else. My mind was clearer than it had been in days. It still is clearer. I know what I need to do, I think, and I know what will be done. It was a relief to see my husband, my Nicias, and it did more than anything else for me. Last night I slept, truly slept, without fear of nightmares, and none came.

To feel his lips on mine, to have him with me, to touch him, to see him, whole and healthy again...

After we parted ways, I returned to Silvermoon, feeling surprisingly rejuvenated, if still exhausted and inexplicably old. I am not that old, I suppose, as my sister would have said, 'thoroughly middle-aged.' I am still in the prime of my strength, though.

I met with Cy. I am afraid I came off as weepy and weak, confused and not all there, mentally. But I think I got my point across. I am glad he was entirely honest with me, I need that, from him especially.

When I asked Nic if he could kill me if it came to that, he said no. And I knew he would say that. It came as no surprise, but it was good to hear the words of reasurrance in his voice, not anyone else's. However much I might trust Cy and Sol and all of the others, they are not Nic.

So that task falls to Cy if it must come to that. I have steeled myself against it, and can only hope I will face my death as myself, not as someone I am not, if it must happen that way.

Light let it not happen that way...

I told Cy what I was thinking, honestly, and how I saw things. I get the feeling he does not like Nic very much, and I resisted the urge the tell him to bite his tongue. I cannot afford to offend him again, not now, not after what he has agreed to do for me.

I will stay in Silvermoon while Cyaer and Nicias go to speak with Viragona's underlings with Solorin in the shadows, watching.

Here, in my journal, where no one save me will read while I live, I can be entirely honest with myself, brutally honest, even. Knowing it is unlikely I will ever read these pages again, and knowing the only other people who will ever read this are Nic and maybe Cy.

Did I possibly have ulterior motives for what I have done in the past? Velin? Viragona? All of it? Did I go looking for my death? Light, I do not know. Those are dark thoughts for another day.
A black tome covered in runes and glowing with a fel green light.

Those fools seek to make peace? How utterly senseless! I will not give up my Tome of Sin. I will get all the runes, I will open it and I will have the power. There is nothing they can do to stop me. I am sitting in a fortified Keep with guards and a magically sealed Tower holds the Tome. When I have all the runes I will open them in order. I will send my minions to Karazhan and clear the way.

I have a new Commander for my guards. She is a death knight who is fearless. Once a warlock like me, she shares many of her secrets. She can raise the dead and make them her minions. We will be unstoppable. I give her glorious combat and she gives me protection. She does not eat or sleep, she is not swayed by desire for anything but her thirst for inflicting pain and suffering. The perfect weapon.

Cynil Inestia, you are my finest weapon. Even better than the demons who quail at my command. You will kill them all and reap their lives while I reap their souls. The Fellowship will shrink one by one until there is none left.
In a locked chest set with traps, a dark tome is wrapped in rags and sits at the bottom.

Today I got a letter from Neryth. I think he is confused. I am not some thief in the night, I am a scout. I work for the Horde and do my duty. He begs forgiveness. I do not know what to do.

On the rare occasion I have let myself feel anything for someone...I have been hurt. I trusted him...I told him secrets about my past I have told no one else. Was I wrong? Perhaps I misjudged him. He is just another Sindorei blood knight seeking glory. Maybe he was sent to find and capture the attention of a naive but unglamorous female.

I have heard of the jokes they tell, of their conquests. The nobles and the high and mighty blood knights. Thinking they are so special they can have any woman with just a few compliments and pretty words.

Why should I believe him? I do not know who he is or how he became a blood knight. Was his family one of the priviledged few to get a commision? I know nothing about him. He is a talented artist. He makes even the images of me look almost pretty.

Who am I trying to kid? I have never gotten compliments from anyone. I have always been a plain Jane. It's the reason I became a scout, it's easy for me to fade into the background. No one gives me a second glance. Dull black hair, pale skin with blotches from the sun. My clothes are often scraps of leather sewn together haphazardly. My engineering is hard on my hands, with blisters, bruises and callouses from my bladework and the mining pick.

I will not seek him out, I will go to do my scouting in the Swamp of Sorrows and mine for the ore I need. Soon I go to Outland and seek the minerals there. I will seek my brother and together we shall fight demons. Yes, I will join Jondular and see if we can recapture some of our family ties. It will be good to spend time with him.

Neryth will find another. He will find a pretty Sindorei and woo her and have lots of children for the Sindorei. It will be better that way. Then I will not...be hurt...
The woman with the brown walked through the corridors of The Undercity. The weight of the night was heavy on her shoulders and her mind was darkened by a memory that in spite of her continuing condition, she longed to forget. Finding what she deemed to be a comfortable spot—or as comfortable a spot as she thought she’d get—she began to write.

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


He is alive. I spent an entire day sitting alone on a hill overlooking the causeway trying to reconcile myself with his death at the hands of the Alliance. I have no idea how he managed to find me, but at least when he did I had managed to pull myself together. At first, I wasn’t certain what I was seeing but once I realized that it was Solorin, I felt a weight come off me.

We sat and talked for some time. It felt good to talk about things other than the problems that are plaguing the Fellowship right now. Once again I was struck by the fact that he was talking to me—not the rogue. For a while, we were just two normal people talking—although there is nothing really normal about either of us. He is an ex-soldier of the Lich King and I am a woman who doesn’t have a past and for all intents and purposes, just appeared out of thin air one day.

He reminded me that I agreed to have dinner with him and we agreed on when and where, but that may have to be put aside. The hunt for the warlock goes on and once again, I am seeing the Fellowship slowly being consumed. We were lucky last time; this time, she will be prepared for us.

A meeting was called tonight to meet with one of Vira’s messenger’s. We asked that she turn over the tome and the messenger laughed and said, "No." End of meeting. Well, not exactly, but that was the crux of it.

Kel'Tira send Nicias and Cyaer in, a choice that soon made no sense to me as the two were constantly at each other's throats. For a while, I had to wonder if they were going to come to blows. Kel has enough on her mind without her brother and husband at each other's throats. Perhaps I will see if she wants to have breakfast one morning and let her vent. It might help ease her burden for a while.

We hired a tracker to follow Vira’s messenger back to her. It was a smart move on Kel’Tira’s part
but in the aftermath of the meeting, Nicias asked me to find Vira. I reminded him that we had someone on that already, someone she didn’t know and would not be expecting, but he wants me to go anyway. I am not entirely certain why, but I did not question his request. He has his reasons.

I was impressed by the tracker and feel that she is wholly capable of doing what we have asked. Perhaps our paths will cross again--it is always good to make friends and

***
She frowned and abruptly set down the quill, a hand touching the long scar than ran across her throat. A small shudder went through her as she could still feel the touch of a blade cutting into it—a malignant memento from her last encounter with Vira and an assassin who chose to aid her.

‘The healer could have helped you, but he chose not to.’

That small, negative thought drifted across her with an icy tingle and she rubbed a hand over her cheek, pushing the thought and dark memory away. She flipped to the back of the journal and pulled out a folded sheet of paper that held a poem. She had found it a few weeks back in an old tome of poems and verses and copied it. It was a happy verse, one that she had taken to reading when she found her mind troubled.

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