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I hope this letter finds you well...or at the very least, finds you. I've had to grease quite a few gears to send this your way, but of what use is gold if not spent on worthwhile endeavors? That being said, I should be rather put out if this missive should find itself stuck to the bottom of a crate, or immolated in a kindling fire.
I regret that I've not been able to venture your way for such a long period, but with the expulsion of the Horde from Dalaran, you can understand that my access is limited to say the least. Where once I was a mere portal away, I now find myself cast out through no fault of my own...a victim of the capricious nature of the infinite nether. Separation from Dalaran - indeed, the only place I've dared feel comfortable enough to call home - has worn heavily on me in recent days, and and I find my thoughts unfocused, scattered. I know you can understand these things, having been separated from Argus for so long, yourself.
More to the point, I miss your company.
Granted, perhaps this is some bizarre cosmic balance of ledgers for the things I'd done in the past, in an age that seems like such a long time ago...but to what end does the story play out if my one true means of making amends with the world is taken from me? When I was raised, I was foolish, fearful, angry...lashing out at those who opposed the will of the Forsaken. But in my defense, those who have not experienced the specter of undeath would not realize that it is a continual cacophony of whispers upon whispers, and it is only when you learn to banish the most sinister of these can you reclaim that part of yourself that understands that you have not been relieved of choice nor responsibility. Ultimately, my choice led me to Dalaran, and my responsibility was to continue the work I'd begun in life for the betterment of all. You always understood that about me.
So, where does this leave me now? Yes, I can do what I can in Pandaria perhaps...but scholia arcana is really nowhere near the quality found in Dalaran. While I've done nothing directly to ostracize myself from Lordaeron, I find my philosophical differences to be too great to linger there for long...while the Dark Lady remains under the thumb of Orgrimmar, one of the remaining whispers that I've learned to trust over time tells me that when her shackles are loosed, all of Azeroth will be the worse for it...and there will be little I can do to stop her. I can only hope the voices in her head are softer than the ones I've fought so hard to extinguish in my own.
I've been far too long in this state, it seems. I've been both blessed and cursed with great recall of my life before unlife, and I do not know if it will be my deliverance or my undoing. It is perhaps my recollection of what I once was that pains me the most; my association with the Horde merely the short straw drawn from the hand of fate. I suppose it is this same realization that in some small way allows me to sympathize with Jaina's decision to eject the Sunreavers - and summarily, the Horde - from Dalaran; although perhaps I may understand it, I can never agree with it. She has to know that we are not all pressed from the same seal, but at the same time, I cannot say that I might not be swayed to rashness given the tragic circumstance of Theramore. I expect that right now, I would do better to understand her own plight rather than my own. After all, Dalaran still stands, but Theramore does not.
But, I digress...there's work to be done. Garrosh Hellscream leads Horde and Alliance alike down a path of destruction, and I'll be damned again if I let that bloody fool bury me for a second time. Lor'themar Theron of Silvermoon seems to have risen to prominence in recent days; I'll cast my lot in with him. Both he and I have been cast in a light askew during this whole affair, and in this common ground I believe I have found purpose. But do not burden your thoughts with worry...I would never raise a hand against the Kirin Tor. Hellscream will need to find a different cudgel if he wishes to bludgeon the Alliance forces here in Pandaria; my own agenda takes precedence, and I'll not jeopardize any potentiality to see those violet spires again.
I've placed a minor cantrip on this parchment, and it will vanish into the ether once you've finished it. Just a precaution, for the both of us.
Do try to take care of yourself, will you?
Threats of violence. We take these seriously and will alert the proper authorities.
Harassing or discriminatory language. This will not be tolerated.