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The sun beat down on the young elf as she hefted her two handed sword. The growl of the mana wyrms rang in her ears as she stuck them down. It was hard on her to do this...she had so much respect for life and the culture of her people. Collecting the slivers of arcane essence she made her way to the Arcanist. A mage caught her eye as she walked along.
He was very powerful and cast his bolts of power with precision and skill. Kara was admiring his control when he turned to smile at her. His fel green eyes startled her with their intensity. "I am Kara Vaelia, a paladin in training. Do you need any help?"
His warm smile soon put her at ease and they were soon traveling together. He told her of his family and their expectations of him. Kara nodded and smiled. "I left my family...they did not want me to train as a paladin...I am on my own." He assured her he would help her in her travels and Kara smiled. He seemed nice and she needed friends.
They met a warrior not too long after that, he was proud and strong. His name was Kriest'Alan. He left them for a short time and then returned. He seemed to enjoy their company and Kara welcomed him. "We can always welcome new friends..." she smiled at him.
They saw a rogue then who looked suspiciously like someone that Kara had known long ago. For some reason, Kara did not trust him...she was not sure why. "I am sorry if I was rude...you remind me of someone I knew long ago...not a nice person.." Ikthael was his name and he shrugged it off and went about his business. Something about the encounter made Kara think they would see him again.
When they found themselves in Falconwing Square, they met another paladin, Kella 'Tira. She had just lost her sister and was on her way to Silvermoon to inform their parents. "I am so sorry for your loss, do you need some assistance?" Kara immediately felt a friendship for the fellow paladin and hoped she would join them.
Kell was happy to join them and they were soon beset by the Scourge in the Dead Scar in front of Silvermoon. The three of them made short work of the bumbling skeletons and headed to the City. In celebration of their new friends, they decided to create a pact of friends. So was born the Rising Sun Fellowship.
Hopefully they would meet others along the way and Telord would make his family proud of his accomplishments. Kara would return to her family eventually and they would have to accept her choice. Kriest did not say much about his motivations, Kara had a feeling he would join them soon. Kella'Tira would stay with them and be strong, her sorrow would make her resolute and brave. The one known as Ikthael was still a mystery...perhaps he would join them...if he could find the time.
Kara closed her diary and sat in theh Inn at Falconwing Square. It was her home for now and she had to make it...until she could convince her parents she was determined to succeed...she had no choice. At least now she had friends.
This is the journal of the rp challenge. If you wish to join us see the rules and sign up a character on Cenarion CIrcle.
Edited by Karavaelia on 4/6/2012 6:35 PM PDT
((My character still hasn't come up in armory yet, Kel'tira here!))
I wept. I am not ashamed to write this here, in a journal for those who come after me to read. I wept as I said my last farewells to my sister, who died before her time. The Sunblaze house will mourn, but none so deeply as I. I stood, looking out over the water for a long while this morning before returning to my training, obsessively crumpling and smoothing the scrap of parchment that held her name. Aliara Sunblaze is gone, and I, Kel'Tira, will always remember.
For now though, I must turn my thoughts from the past, already set in stone, and gaze instead into the malleable future. I left the training grounds for Silvermoon today, determined that today would be the day things changed. So far, they have.
I wear my sorrow like a cloak, and it weighs me down sometimes, but for now I have cast it off, telling myself that I cannot truly honor my sister's memory if I let it bury me. So instead, I now consciously force myself to set my tears and griefs aside, and focus only on the lights that shine for me. I met a rogue, as I traveled towards the city today, Ikthael. A small fire now burns inside me with the thought of a new beginning, new courage.
I wish only that I could change the past, but I realize I must look forward, and not only back. In Falconwing Square, I met a duo, mage and paladin, Telord and Kara Vaelia. Kara seems to understand what I carry with me, the weight of the news I must carry to my family, and the ordeals I face every waking moment. Telord is more of a mystery to me, I am not sure why he seems to bear the burden he does.
Together, for our own reasons, we have become one. We are the Rising Sun Fellowship, and for this I am grateful. For I feel I have found some kindred spirits.
(This is Ikthael, posting on main!)
Journal! quite the day today i must say. A few contracts here and there nothing big.
couldnt really care how i spell or how i write what im thinking. didnt really remember anything
they taught me in school anyway.
Well thats a paragraph i guess, but i dont really care (several smudges here.)
Oh yeah, what was i writing about. well i met this group of people near the training grounds
they seem amusing so i might just follow them around for a bit, who knows.
I have been pretty bored as of late anyway.
(this is how he will write, painful to one who enjoys complete thought sentances and such i know.)
((This is Kriest'alan))
This is the fifth time, the fifth time, that bastard had told me to wait for my training. Not ready he said...he may be right, but he is starting to get on my last nerves. Master Kal'teras seems to be the one who loves to try my patience.
Oh well, now I have to strive to be a warrior among my people, until I get to the Outlands, at least...where my Master is. Maybe then I might reach this potential he is so sure I can achieve. At least he knows that I am willing to do anything and everything to ensure the safety of everyone...
Today I had met some interesting fellow Sin'dorei. A honor-driven mage, a rather roguish drifter, a rather miserable, yet upbringing paladin, and another paladin...but this one...this one is a bit different...fierce and determined. Heh, a woman after my own heart.
Though, I know with what it is that I am setting out to do, I know I cannot get attached to them...that would only lead to my and their downfall. Besides, I doubt that they'll still count me as a 'friend' once I begin my training...
Asides from that, nothing major happened to date...tore apart some malfunction parollers and get my fair share of beatings from the accursed Wretched, after killing a few on my own thanks to my new...allies.
They seem to have made a rather quick named group, from what I hear...I have left them shortly after our skirmishes against the Wretched. There are some training that I have to do out of the public eye...But I hear this group is named...the Rising Sun Fellowship. Maybe I might join them to help me in my endeavors to the Outlands so I can find my Master.
But, from there...I do not know what I will do...they may find me disgusting and a traitor. Just like what my Master said everyone would view our kind.
Now, I grow weary of writing...I must continue my training and reflect...Darkness beckons...and I shall be there to answer the call.
Edited by Nenjurash on 4/6/2012 9:23 PM PDT
6 Blood Elf Mage
If anyone reads this, which I doubt as it spends most of its time at the bottom of my pack, please excuse the wine stain on the first few pages of this journal I spilled a bit while enjoying my last Bottle of Dalaran Red.
Lets see, today I packed up what little I could, pretty much a change of clothes and a staff and was sent out to bring honor and glory to House Sunbinder. My father must be losing his mind, sending us out one by one like this to earn the inheritance that is MY Birthright. Well if it means i can have it all to myself and keep my brothers filthy hands off it then so be it.
I met a cute Blood Knight in-training once i made it to Sunstrider Isle, she said her name was Kara Vaelia. She also told me that she ran away from home to become a Blood Knight and it seems we will be traveling together as we and another cute Blood Knight in-training join up with us. Kel'tira Sunblaze she called herself, she lost her sister to the rogue lynxes on Sunstrider Isle, poor thing, though I don't know much else about them. Apparently we have formed an official party of sorts to achieve our separate goals.
There was also that Irritating blond elf, I don't remember if he gave us his name, I'll have to watch what little coin I have left around him, he seemed the shady type that work as grounds keepers on our manor. And then there was the Kriest'alan, his last name escapes me, seemed the strong somber type, quite handy with that large sword though. Thats about it except the odd jumping girl that was being annoying and killed a small cat, I think she was touched in the head.
Oh I almost forgot about Erona, what a despicable excuse for a Blood Elf, treated ME like a servant, I am so glad to get off that little island. Mana wyrms, lynxes, Wretched, the world itself will not stop me from claiming my rightful fortune.
Glory. Death. I sound like a filthy orc, seeking the most glorious death I can and yet it is all I seek. My family questions my choice, questions my will to train as a warrior and forsaken all things magical. My own father, a Blood Knight, now looks down upon me as if I am a Wretched! I'll show them all, I'll show everyone what a warrior can do.
It shall be mine and when it is I shall spit upon the ground in front of those that have looked down upon me. Yet I am no closer than I was the day I chose this path, my trainers question my choice to master all weapons, the magisters and other "leaders" send me out of tasks designed for weaklings! They tell me to kill the Wretched, yet there are not enough to even give me pause! It is disgraceful!
I have spent the better part of these past few days mastering the arts of the stave, learnign to wield it like a master so that one day I will be a weapon master in my own right and when that day comes, I shall stand victorious. The Alliance, Deathwing, none shall be able to stand against me.
There is a rumor of a Fellowship being formed, they talk of their skills and valor, I wonder if they will give me the glory I seek. I must think upon this more, and decide if I shall join them.
Honor. Glory. Death.
I seek these things so that I may stand victorious and look down upon all others. Maybe this Rising Sun Fellowship will get me closer to my goals.
The Falconwing Inn was a bustling place, full of Sindorei looking to full fill dreams and glory. Kara sat in her room writing in her journal. The remnants of Scourge still stalked the Dead Scar, there were so many of them....Kara could not help but wonder where they were coming from? The Lich King was dead...though it was rumored another held his place. Why then did the dead continue to walk the earth?
Kara thought of the young warrior she had met this day, his name was Tyrael. He was very strong and sought glory above all else. It disturbed Kara to know that someone would seek something so fleeting. She could not help but feel he was missing something important...perhaps he was driven by some inner need to prove himself. But then...wasn't she as well?
The sounds of revelry came from downstairs and she sighed deeply...if they ever stopped their non stop partying she might get some sleep. Wearily she sought her bed and drew the covers over her, trying to block out the noise from the tavern below. Tomorrow she would move to Fairbreeze Village...perhaps she would get more work and find some way to make more gold, training was expensive. Maybe her new found profession would gain her some new revenue, mining and jewelcrafting was said to be profitable.
Awakening to the sounds of breakfast being served, Kara yawned and stretched. Her ams ached from swinging sword and now pick as she built muscle and strength through hard work. There was no going back now...her parents had sent a message to the trainers in Silvermoon, they no longer supported her. The words of Knight Lord Bloodvalor had assured her the Light was with her and she need not worry about making it as a Paladin. She needed more than that however. The inner confidence and strength came slowly for her.
The day proved enlightening, however as she reached a new stage in her training. Based on her greatest talent healing, she decided to focus on it. The Light filled her with such joy and love it humbled her. Dropping to her knees in prayer in the chamber where the Naaru had given its last essence to restart the Sunwell, she received a small vision.
In the vision a Naaru came to her and filled her with the strength of conviction. Her path was the right one for her and she would not be alone. As fast as it came the vision faded and she trembled in awe.
The new found inner peace compelled her to seek others of her kind to seek guidance. It was not an easy path. It held responsibility and self sacrifice. Still she did not waver and continued in her training.
Pain was all that Reyalin felt as he picked himself up off of the dirt. What had happened? He felt up to his forehead, there was a long, narrow bump. All he remembered was raising his arms to cast at his professor, and then a loud crack. He checked the mailbox, there was a letter from the Academy.
"Reyalin Sunstride, for unauthorized attempts of deadly force upon your professor, you have been banned from the Highspring Academy of the Light. Do not re-enter upon the Academy's grounds, or you will be prosecuted and punished by the fullest extent of the law."
Well, I guess there's no going back. He found all of his money must have been looted by people passing by. A young Blood Elf asked him if he was okay, and offered to pay him money to kill some pesky Mana Wyrms.
"This could prove useful. I guess I've got nothing else to do".
Reyalin was starving. When he returned from the Mana Wyrms, he used all of his money to buy some bread, and he quickly devoured it. Amazing what can happen in a day, the day before he was living high and mighty in an Academy, with a bed, limitless food, and a place to call home, and now he was a street urchin, wearing ragged and torn robes scarfing down any morsel of food he could find.
The light must have abandoned him. What had he done wrong?
The question bothered him. He had attacked his professor, was this the Light's way of punishing him? He spent the day pondering this question.
What could he do to get in the Light's favor again? Could he ever get back in the Light's favor?
90 Human Paladin
The Rising Sun Fellowship, so far I am unimpressed with their performance. The warriors around me fail to comprehend how to wage battle. They are weak and I have vowed that if they hold me back I shall leave them behind. But the paladin... What was here name... Kara Vaelia, she showed promise, but she was training to become a Blood Knight. It disgusts me that the only person in this rag-tag band of "heroes" is a f*cking Blood Knight. She shows skill at keeping me alive in the fights I throw myself into, though she probably assumes I'm crazy. She wouldn't understand...
I must gain more power, my glorious destiny awaits me...
Seeking redemption in the Light's eyes, Reyalin made his way to Falconwing Square. It was there he encountered a band of fellow Blood Elves. They call themselves "The Rising Sun Fellowship".
Since he was all but alone in Eversong Woods, he decided he could afford to make a couple of friends, while in a sea of enemies from the Academy. This must be the Light sending him a chance to help prove himself, and his dedication to all that is Holy. He joined this group without hesitation.
My, my, what an interesting day this has been. I had the opportunity to spend most of the day with the lovely, yet rather determined, Miss Kara. And I met a few interesting other fellows along the ways...including a rather hotheaded warrior who seem to think victory is all that matters...
Seems I'm not the only one...
But, unlike the seeming brute, I learn from failure in hopes they turn into future victories. I doubt he knows how to learn from his mistakes, a very fatal flaw.
But, back to my time with Miss Kara...we were clearing out the Scorched Glade when I had apologized to her. Early in the day I had sulked off from her thanks to a few words and a question that was pulled up...reminded me what I am trying to do and how I would be viewed upon taking my true training.
She seemed to have taken it pretty well, and seems to understand that I did not want to talk about it. But those eyes of hers...filled with compassion, understanding...determination...it just kills me every time. She's like a poison to my confidence in my choice...
But what this poison is doing and the benefits and damage from it is unknown, and I hope I won't ever know. I just hope I can keep up the act I have been holding up as the reserved and rather charming wardancer. I figured I might as well say I am taking up that old title, seeming as how I am now practicing with my dual wielding now.
Not sure what else to say, besides that Miss Kara might be both killing me and saving me...I fear, at this rate, I will not know what to tell my Master once I see him in the Outlands.
This is the end of this entry, I can hear her calling me to get ready to get up and going back to the Ghostlands after a Fellowship meeting here in Silvermoon. At least in that dark, dead forest I can find solace knowing that soon my soul might become as black as it.
Edited by Nenjurash on 4/8/2012 12:07 AM PDT
Kara rubbed her eyes as she struggled with the report. There was so much she did not understand. Why were there still Scourge in the Dead Scar? Of all her friends...why did Kriest'Alan worry her so much?
She could feel his indecision...the darkness eating at his soul...but she could say nothing...only offer her friendship and support. The Fellowship meant a great deal to her. She wanted all of them to be willing to support and encourage the others. Some did not get along well, but sometimes personalities clashed. That did not mean there was no respect or friendship...the Sindorei were a proud race. Sometimes snobs, sometimes sad to the point of despair...even hopeless drug addicts with no cure in sight.
They all needed a sense of belonging. Someone who cared if they lived or died, someone to carry on if they did...Kara wondered...who would carry on if something happened to her? Would her sister Daline come and take over? Or maybe even her brother Harkenein? He always made fun of her, but she knew he was a good kid.
And what would she do about that rogue? He was so sneaky...she could sense the mystery around him...what was he hiding? She could not justify her feelings...she needed to give him a chance. He deserved that much...even if he nearly scared the wits out of her with his sudden appearances.
The new fellow, the priest...he seemed so happy to have found friends. He danced around like a wound up toy. It brought a smile to her face to watch him...Reyalin...the Light has not deserted you. Keep on dancing...you will bring us all joy.
Her thoughts turned to Tyrael. He seemed so bent on glory...he pushed them all so hard to get better, to work hard and be the best. Why did he feel it was so important? Was there something in his past that drove him to excell? Who was he trying to impress?
Telord...the noble mage...his determination to get the fellowship rolling was an inspiration to them all. He offered coin and encouragement where they had none to spare. He was important to the solidity of their Fellowship. He would help to hold them together.
The paladin who was training with Kara seemed quiet and shy...but she was tough and determined to succeed. Her strength and expertise would see them through tough times. Her faith would stand the test of time. Her loss of a sister kept her grounded in the Light, Kara admired her spunk.
The Fellowship was off to a good start and Kara was glad she had found each and everyone of them. Her head bowed in prayer as she knelt by her bed. "Light be with us all"
Alone...he was alone. None of the other members were in the Ghostlands, and Kara was downstairs in the 'inn'...probably sleeping.
Kriest'alan sighed, he was bare of any gear, wearing only his mail pants that was still flexible and his two swords. He was on the floor above the inn, where there was nobody there...just an empty room that he had brushed away some blanks for some room. But he could still feel the dust on the soles of his bare feet.
Gripping, ungripping, and then gripping each of his swords nervously, the Blood Elf tried to breath calmly.
Remember the exercises...remember the phases...Just like how Father showed you...Just close your eyes and let everything fall through...
Exhaling deeply, his chest contracting slowly at the movement, Kriest'alan closed his intense, Fel tainted eyes as he got into the combat stance. His legs spread, feet flat on the ground, leaning forward a bit, chin up high, and his swords in position...the one in the right hand above his head and the one in his left hand in front...ready to attack and defend.
Suddenly he imagined himself within the War of the Ancients...he was a Night Elf warrior fighting the Demons. Though, in real time, he was just himself in that empty, dusty room.
He saw a Felhunter bounding right for him. He wasted not time getting on the front of his feet and spun out of the creature's way, only to to bob under a Felguard's terrible sword aiming for his head.
He stopped his spinning to get back into the combat stance and saw what he was up against. The Felguard was a huge nasty. But he did not give pause as he ran right up to the monster. The demon roared as it lifted the blade again to strike at the wardancer, only for Kriest'alan to masterfully spin to safety again as his own blades came out and ripped the monster's torso to ribbons.
It did not go down quietly, trying desperately to take hold of the Elf, for him only to get his hands sliced off from the whirling blades. That was one down...now where was the...
He wasn't able to finish the thought as the Felhunter came back, the snake-like tentacles snapping at him. He managed to cut the stalks off of its head before kicking it in the jaw. Needless to say, it wasn't too happy about that as it went into a frenzy trying to rip Kriest'alan to shreds.
Thankfully, Kriest'alan was just quick enough to dodge, dodge, bob, spin, and slice right into its hide. It hissed as it went into confusion and tried to find the wardancer again before Kriest'alan ended it with a blade to the ribs.
Now he was with his kin during the battle against Arthas in Quel'thalas. He was a ranger fighting on the front lines as the massive, nearly impossible waves of undead cretins came pouring at him and his comrades.
Without hesitation, he had lead his brethren in the charge right for the miserable monsters and looked down at the ground. He had sure footings all around, flat lands...perfect. With something like a battle cry escaping him, he leaped into the air and did a wide sweep with both his swords, downing a good bit of the front line undeads...who were all basically useless soldiers, anyways.
He was now right in the center, he knew he was going to die anyway...might as well make a show out of it. He dodged and parried most of the attack coming his way, while also dishing out many of his own with his whirling blades. He was getting bites and scratches on his body...despite his speed, he could not hold off all of them.
He took out many of the Scourge's worst with him, before the inevitable happened...
This was a little bit of the 'resting' period. He was himself, dressed in only his chain pants with his swords. He was drenched from sweating...the task wasn't difficult, but the concentration and the experiences of the effects were taxing.
He was going against another wardancer, a woman, dressed in only a pair of cloth pants and a cloth shirt. They both looked tired, but none of them were injured, just taking the exertion in stride.
They were performing a ritual dance, a rather intimate process...slow, calculated blows and parries, deliberate and fluid motions, an event of replication of actual combat, but a show of mystic bodies slithering in the air as they spun, jumped, slashed, kicked, and seemingly danced around the field...a very lethal dance that could kill one of them in a single mistake.
But they weren't alone, there were others, hypnotized by the near liquid motions of the two's bodies as they fought. Their hearts beating in tune with the clashing of the blades, eyes moving with the whirls of each of the wardancers' twin blades.
Kriest'alan made no sound as he spun out of the way of a slash and went for a stab at the woman's side, only for her to use her free sword to knock his to the side and moved out of the way so she wasn't touched by his cold steel.
But, in doing this, she had to do some spinning of her own and used the momentum to do raise her foot in the air for a kick. Kriest'alan anticipated this as he raised his and halted her kick with his own.
For what seemed like hours, they had continued this till both their blades were locked and they were mere inches from each other's faces. It was then, they lowered their weapons, stepped off, and bowed at each other.
He was now in more modern times, as himself and in full battle gear. He looked up from himself and saw his enemy...the Alliance. The Alliance had already made their charge as Kriest'alan looked to the side and saw his commander give the same order.
Almost too happy to oblige, Kriest'alan charged with his fellow soldiers into the fray, the gap between the two forces shrinking into nothing in mere seconds. It was cold here, he did not know where he was...but it was cold...but the battle was steaming hot.
His sword sung as they sliced through the air and bit into his enemies, dodging several blows coming his way. The forces here were slow, clumsy, and all too reliant on making the hit count, instead of making the hit...well...hit!
His precision was true as he slashed and stabbed into his foes, making short work of the small fry with the other soldiers.
He saw a Draenei come after him with a huge mace. Narrowing his eyes, Kreist'alan timed just right to dive underneath the hammer going for his head and used the opportunity to jump into the air and used his plated feet to kick the Draenei square in the back, making the giant of a being stagger while another soldier ran the Draenei through with a spear.
The wardancer nodded as he looked back to the Alliance and saw some of the beastly Worgen running for him. Kriest'alan grinned as he spun into the air and prepared himself to unleash his whirling blades of death.
End of training sequence.
Kriest'alan breathed heavily as sweat poured down from his body. The floor showed signs of him going all over the place and cuts in the wall indicated that he was careless every so often and sliced his swords through the walls.
He was battling and dancing all around the room, but that wasn't even half as exhausting as the concentration and physical exertion required to do the sequence. Luckily, his family line was among the ones that were taught by the Pandarens so long ago.
Too tired for the moment, he dropped his swords and went to his knees, trying to recuperate. He stayed like that for a while longer before gathering some strength and stood on his two feet again.
He looked to where he had his gear and sighed as he saw the journal he was writing in.
Might as well before I go to sleep...
I managed to get alone from Miss Kara and have some alone time with myself. And I spent it by getting to refreshing myself with the techniques of the wardancer. If I am to pretend to be a wardancer, I might as well make sure I know how to be one. Good thing Father had taught me when I came of age to wield a blade.
Not much had happened since the meeting...beside me and Miss Kara killing more Scourge, freeing some Quel'dorei spirits, taking the spines from some undead Murlocs, and purging an entire camp of Night Elf spies.
But that 'poison' within Kara I had mentioned before is starting to get at me more and more...Earlier, she had given me this ring in hopes it would help me and my thinking...and, I must admit, it really wasn't.
I am really at a lost. For so long I have been convinced that my Master's way was the only way to drive off our true enemies...but to do so, I would be sacrificing every bit of me...my body, my soul, and my social life...I would be viewed as a traitor, villainous scum...hated by all because they do not understand my sacrifice...
But, if all of that does happen...Then how would she see me? How would any within the Fellowship see me? Is this path worth it?
I suppose there is still time to think and reflect. But, I am tired now...
While scouring the Dead Scar, Reyalin came in contact with a passing Orc, who was bleeding heavily, and almost close to death.
"Fear not, Orc. I will come to your aid".
Reyalin jumped into the fray, and he spent the entire time keeping the Orc alive, and the Orc and he barely came out victorious. He had a massive rush of adrenaline. He realized that this is what he wanted to do. This is what could get him back in the Light's favor.
How had he not realized this before?
He made his way back to Falconwing Square, where he rested up for the next day. The second he reached his room, he passed out onto the bed.
I sit here in Fairbreeze, staring out at the sunshafts through the trees as I write, feeling the weight of armor made by those I think I must trust. What else can I do? I have faith in the Light, in the hope that I can learn from the past, from both my mistakes and other's mistakes.
I have had time to dedicate to thought, but I am not sure I want it.
I am not a healer, nor am I one who seeks to do harm. I would throw myself into battle for any of my companions. It is now, as I prepare to leave, that I feel I may have some idea of who exactly I am.
Treants, scourge, and damned murlocs.
Sitting in the 'inn' in Tranquilen, I cannot shake the terror of the dead land that surrounds me. Don't you hate that? I feel like I'm being watched.
A priest joined our fellowship, and I must say, I am interested in getting to know him, he seems like a good enough sort, fairly handsome, too, if I say so.
(The next few lines are crossed out and scribbled over so as to be illegible.)
No one is ever reading this journal except me.
As I was writing earlier, about finally knowing who I am, or having some idea. Back to that.
The single most defining moment in my life so far has possibly been finding my sister's dead body. After that would have to be the moment I first really felt the conviction of the Light. My faith is true, there is no question of that, and while sometimes the only thing I can think about is what could have been different, I also know that the grief and sorrows of my past have shaped my faith and made me the person I am today.
I am a guardian, I think.
I will step into the unknown future and guard those who step with me.
I only wish I wasn't so horribly alone.
'Ikthael brightblades horrible journal continues! the pages before you are written horribly, with many spelling mistakes!'
So i joined this group i think, they seem boring but its better then nothing i guess.
The paladin chick was rather stupid in my opnion opinoin? i guess it doesnt matter how i spell it.
The priest looked pretty normal i guess, but his hair wasnt to my standards. not that i care about hair.
then that warrior was kinda okay i guess, probaly dumb as dirt tough.
oh and i killed some lynxs and stuff today, was really easy. still need to kill those trolls for that bounty tough.
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