- - by Bronil
To the Scarab WallEdit
After much deliberation, I have decided to go to the Scarab Wall. Rest assured that it is with great pain that I make this decision.
The truth of the matter is that the Silithid are simply more of a threat than the recently enraged Horde. Darnassus can weather the attack of a band of vengeful Horde; it cannot turn back the Silithid. I have fought these monsters and know their strength well, and every one of my instincts tells me that I have only scratched the surface of the Silithid threat. Indeed, the defenders at Silithus will need all the help they can get. Even as I write this entry, Alliance and Horde armies are en route to the Scarab Wall where they will join with many other defenders like myself.
Whatever comes out of that gate, I will stand against it. Even if it costs me my life, I will see to it that the Silithid threat stays in Silithus. This, I swear.
Battle at Cenarion Hold Part IEdit
(( Story time :D Forgive the very rough paraphrase of what Rajaxx was yelling. If anyone has a screenshot or knows what he actually said *please* post it ))
Shining brightly in the sky, the afternoon sun spread its heat across the sands of Silithus. The atmosphere was deceptively calm. Armies of both the Alliance and Horde had gathered at Cenarion Hold in preparation of the storm that would soon come. It had been some time since Bronil was last here. The reason for his departure, the Black Dragonscale armor he now wore, did nothing to help ward off the heat (quite the opposite in fact), but it was not heat that Bronil was trying to ward off. Kodrak sniffed the air, and Bronil could tell that the bear's enormous muscles were now tensed. Something had happened.
Confirming whatever it was that Kodrak sensed, a loud voice rang out from the south, "Now you will pay the price for meddling with what lies beneath the sand, mortals. March forth, my Warbringers, and crush these weaklings!"
It took Bronil considerable effort not to use the magical reins that summoned his nightsaber, Windracer. He had already convinced himself when he woke up today that it would be Cenarion Hold where he could help out the most. Besides, going south alone very well may turn out to be the death of him. He softedly prayed to Elune for the brave souls at the Scarab Wall.
Soon, as Bronil had expected, the Silithid army arrived at the Hold. He had planned on fighting varieties of Silithid he had not yet encountered, but nothing could have prepared him for what charged the hold alongside the insects. Giantsized. . . dogmen. . . began pounding the defenders of the hold with their bare fists. Refusing to let fear overpower him, Bronil nocked an arrow and used the latent energies of nature to enchant the arrow with a nasty poison that would damage it's victim slowly over time. Immediately he let the arrow fly, not really needing to take aim at so large a target. It was doubtful that the monster would even be aware of the sting of his arrow, but that did not stop him in the least. When his first arrow made contact, he nocked another one aiming this time for the head of giant dogman. As the arrow sank into the dogman's neck, it was accompanied by a torrent of arrows from kaldorei marksman, and magical bolts of frost, flame, and shadow from mages and warlocks. Yes, even those who consort with demons had shown up to defend the Hold. But now was not the time for Bronil to think about his feelings towards warlocks, or the demons they claimed to "master". He was fighting for not only his life, but lives of all the defenders. Of all of the lives of Azeroth.
As he fired arrow after arrow, Bronil noticed that the presence of the dogmen had caused most defenders to focus on the giants, while the Silithid walking upright with large, black claws fought on with little resistance to slow them down. He reached out to Kodrak on a half-telepathic, half-primal level. Letting out a roar, Kodrak charged the nearest Silithid and lashed out with claws and teeth. In addition to the bear's natural weapons, the Silithid was soon assailed by arrows from Bronil. This was how the pair had always fought, and they had used this tactic to deadly effect. However, the Silithid that were attacking the Hold were stronger than the Silithid Bronil had previously encountered. It would take more than the two of them to turn back these foes. Before Bronil could yell for assisstance, a handful of defenders came from different directions and lended a much needed hand. Some fought next to Kodrak, and others next to Bronil. Eventually, the Silithid fell and Bronil scanned the battle for other targets.
He found one.
The largest Silithid he had ever seen made its way into the fray of battle. It was a huge, sickly blend of purple and red. Clearly, this Silithid in particular was some kind of hive mind judging from the way Silithid around it fought. The attention of many defenders quickly focused on this new foe. Again, Bronil unleashed a torrent of arrows. This time however, he did not hold back and used everything about the bow he had learned. His right arm began to pump furiously between quiver and bowstring, unleashing a constant stream of arrows, some enchanted, some not. Refusing to slow down in the least, he fired off one arrow than suddenly became three arrows. Another arrow was shot high into the air and then exploded in a flash, unleashing a downpour of arcane arrows. Again his arrows were not alone in their flight, and the huge Silithid felt the power of every school of magic. Out of the corner of his eye, Bronil could see that Kodrak was working instinctively to keep enemies at bay, darting from insect to insect, in order to give Bronil the window he needed to use his skill with the bow to its fullest.
. . . and then Bronil was looking down on the Hold. A tremendous force erupted from the large Silithid, sending many defenders flying through the air. For Bronil, the world seemed to slow to a standstill as he focused all of his senses on the huge Silithid down below. There was nothing in his world now but himself, and the Silithid. There was no thought either, even the fact that he was airborne and falling to his death did not enter his mind. The arrow nocked in his bow was glowing now with a bright energy not of any of the known schools of magic. The bowstring snapped, and the bright arrow flew towards the huge Silithid. The world then came rushing back. Bronil's mind was now filled with thought. Was this his final day under the sun and moon? Forgive me, Siang . Did the arrow hit? Go to Celesst. Kodrak. How many defenders are left? Be strong, sister. Would it be enough to crush the Silithid? Elune, watch over them. . .
Blackness was his answer. . .
Battle at Cenarion Hold Part IIEdit
A feeling of being conscious brought an end to the blackness. Opening his eyes slowly, Bronil could see the night sky. Was he dead and now in the Spirit Realm? As he tried to get up to his feet, pain like fire shot through his entire body, and he let out a scream. The presence of pain told him that he not yet passed from this world. At the moment, Bronil considered that both a good, and a bad thing.
A feminine voice called out, "This one is still alive! Quickly!"
Looking around, Bronil found that he was still at the Hold, and he was lying down on the ground in the spot where he had landed from his seemingly fatal fall. His eyes landed on Kodrak, who was struggling to stand, but stand he did, growling at anything that came near.
"We thought you were dead, but it appears that is not the case now. That bear hasn't let anything come near you. Call it off if you want to make it out of here in one piece." It was the same feminine voice, a voice that belonged to a Priestess of the Moon.
"Easy, Kodrak. Easy. We are among friends." Bronil patted Kodrak on the side, and the bear laid down, no longer growling.
The feeling of warmth replaced the pain in Bronil's body as the priestess began casting. Another priestess began her casting on Kodrak, who offered no resistance. Soon, Bronil was able to stand albeit with great effort.
"Did we --" he began, but was cut off by the priestess who obviously expected the question.
"Yes, we turned them back. They have retreated behind the Scarab Wall for now. A few parties have begun taking the fight to them."
"I see. . . what are the losses?"
The priestess winced at the question, "Many."
Bronil had expected as much, but the news still hurt all the same. He had planned to meet up with Drahliana, head of the Rangers, but when battle came his eyes needed to be focused on the enemy; not searching for a friend. Hopefully, she had survived the battle and done so in much better condition than he had. He could tell that Drahliana was very capable of looking after herself when he met her Ironforge, but he still wished he could have fought alongside her. He had the same hopes for a dwarf by the name of Dwailin who he had also planned to fight with. During the battle, Bronil heard the dwarf's battlecry of "For hearth and honor!", but he could not find him. He did not know if Lorial, his former guild leader, was present at the battle, but his instincts told him that she was. Elune send they are all safe. Their strength is still needed in this world. . .
"Elune light your path, Nightwind." the priestess said with a bow. He thought about asking how she knew his name, but then again, Bronil's ventures into the world of Azeroth were not unknown to Darnassus or Cenarion Hold. On top of that, Kodrak had a way of making Bronil memorable to those he encountered. He should not be surprised.
"And yours as well, priestess" Bronil replied with a bow as well. With that, the two of them parted ways. The priestess going to tend to more wounded, and Bronil going to survey the aftermath. The corpses were a sad sight indeed, and he prayed his eyes wouldn't fall on the corpse of anyone he knew.
The Silithid threat had been quelled, and at great cost. He would never forget this day. He would never forget the sacrifices made. If the Silithid ever made it beyond the Wall again, he would be there to meet them. . .
Without a Suit of ArmorEdit
It has been suggested to me by Jocaste that I should do something that does not require armor. This is surprisingly difficult. Thus far, I have contented myself to stay home and enjoy a normal life.
I feel almost certain that I cannot continue this however, and long to travel the lands once again. It is ironic, in a way. Everytime I return to Darnassus to train with Jocaste, I look in the direction of my home and family. And then I turn away with a sigh. There are too many dangers in the world for me to sit idly by. Demons still roam the lands in dark places advancing the Burning Legion's desires, the Silithid remain in Silithus waiting to destroy all life, the Black Dragonflight plots to enslave the world, and on a recent journey with SASU I have learned that an evil god by the name of Hakkar has been revived in an area of Stranglethorn Vale called, "Zul'Gurrub". I long to live a life of peace and safety with my family. Now that I have that to a small degree, irony strikes and I find that I want to be back out in the world.
Always I have lived under the principle that if someone or something is in need of aid, and I am in a position to give it, then it is my duty to do so. I am not so foolish as to think I can solve all the world's burdens by myself, but I am confident that I can at least help alleviate them.
Yet, to do so requires armor, which Jocaste holds prisoner (I sense another one of her "hidden lessons" at work here). For the past few days I have tried to think of a solution, and I think I have finally found one.
My food supply for Kodrak has run low, and my ability with cooking is. . . lacking. My solution to my desire to travel, and the laments of Kodrak's stomach, is to hunt and fish. As soon as I have better grasp of fishing, I will set out from Teldrassil and see to it that I put an end to Tyron's jests about my cooking.
Now to find out how the fish are taking the bait without being caught on my hook. . .
A Trip to the SmithyEdit
"ARE YE DAFT?!"
"Elune as my witness, I've never been more sane." Bronil replied in a calm tone. It did nothing however, to comfort the dwarf.
"Tha' there's one a tha finest blades I ever seen an' ye're bustin' it all up! Are ye actually [i]trying[/i] to break it?"
"Yes, that is my intention." Unabated, the hammer in Bronil's hand continued its work.
"Damned lyin' elf! Ye said ye wanted ta borrow me hammer ta fix ye're sword an' now ye're tryin' ta break it!"
"Its very creation was a mistake, and now I'm fixing it." Bronil continued in his calm tone. In truth, he had planned on the dwarf's outcry; which was why he decided to destroy Demonslayer in Kharanos instead of Ironforge. Had he tried to do this in Ironforge, it was likely he would be wrestled to the ground by every dwarf near the forge trying to save "a fine piece of work" from "some crazy elf". They didn't know the truth of the blade. On the surface it was indeed a fine blade; a blade designed to slay demons and it was very good at doing so. Yet, it came at price. A price not in gold, but in life.
While it was true that Bronil had mastered the blade, could even control the glow of it's enchantment, that did not mean the blade was safe. What if some thief decided to steal it while Bronil was sleeping in the wilderness as he often did? The thief would either sell it, or become victim to the blade eternal hunger. Whoever the thief sold it to would like suffer the same fate. What if the blade stayed with Bronil to the end of his days? It would eventually fall to someone else, and they would run the risk of becoming another victim on the blade's long list. Oh yes, it was a long list. In mastering the blade, Bronil could hear their names in his head, could even see brief visions of them while they wielded Demonslayer.
It was a chance that Bronil was not willing to take. He would simply have to rely on his own strength to handle demons; something he should have known from the start.
Just as the dwarf moved to stop Bronil, the hammer finally finished its work, and the wicked sword was now in two.
"Get the hell outta my smithy!" the dwarf yelled, snatching the hammer from Bronil, which brought a growl from Kodrak.
Quickly calming the bear, Bronil merely smiled contently and bowed, "As you wish, Master Flintfire." Putting his shirt, vest, and cloak back on, Bronil walked out of the smithy. He mounted Windracer, his nightsaber, and made for Ironforge.
"And don't ye ever let me catch ye back 'ere again ye damned elf!" Flintfire called after him.
Once in Ironforge, Bronil made his way to the Great Forge where flowing lava provided intense heat. Throwing the two halves of Demonslayer into the lava, he watched as they were carried into the pool of lava below the Great Forge. Back into the earth, melting along the way.
Still mounted on Windracer, Bronil made his way out of the city, and rode towards the Arathi Highlands.
"Where have you been?" Jocaste asked, looking at her student suspiciously.
"Try it." Bronil replied, handing Jocaste a small, wrapped up bundle that was warm to the touch.
Opening the bundle, she found nicely cut up bite-size pieces of cooked meat. Hesitantly, she reached for one of the pieces; afterall it was no secret that Bronil had . . . trouble. . . preparing food. Still, she did not shy away from the offer. Even if it tasted horrible, it would be rude of her to refuse. Besides, Bronil was many things, but "fool" was not among them; most of the time anyway. She was confident that he wouldn't offer her food unless he was sure of its quality.
"Not bad." she said honestly, chewing the piece of meat.
"Keep it. I have plenty more. It took quite a few tries to get it right."
"I'm sure it did," she replied, laying the bundle down, "but then again, I'm not a food expert. You should give a sample to Tyron if you want a well-informed opinion."
"He was quite surprised." The look on Tyron's face was rewarding. He almost refused to believe Bronil actually cooked it. Of course, Tyron was still a much better cook, but at least his playful jests would be ended.
"I congratulate you on your accomplishment, Nightwind. However, I asked you a question. I do not like repeating myself."
"Ah, yes. Where I have been. As you have probably guessed, I've been cooking. It actually involved quite a bit of travelling. Hunting has certainly become more pleasant now that I can better prepare the meat. Kodrak certainly likes it." Then again, Bronil thought as he finished the sentence, Kodrak liked just about anything.
Jocaste sighed, "One of these days, Nightwind, I will make you stay in one place if I have to tie you to this tree."
Bronil grinned, "Kodrak would probably just chew through the ropes."
"Then I'll use chains," she said with a chuckle. After her laughter and Bronil's had died down, she spoke again, "I know why you're here, Nightwind. You want your armor back, don't you?" Bronil nodded as if expecting the question, "I kept it here hoping that you would settle down for awhile, and remember what life is like without constantly fighting."
"I remember it well, Jocaste. It is the very reason why I carry on."
"She truly misses you when you're gone. Every week she stops by, asking if I have seen you recently."
"Take your armor, Nightwind. I see now that wandering and fighting is your nature. There is nothing I, or anyone else can do to change that."
"Thank you, Jocaste." After a few moments, Bronil was once again in his armor. Strangely, it felt as though he had come home. Jocaste was right, it seemed. Bowing his farewell, Bronil turned and started down the wooden ramp."
"One last thing before you go." Jocaste called after him.
"I've noticed you've been carying those two swords around for quite some time. Where is Demonslayer?" He had hoped to avoid that question. Although he knew he did the right thing, the blade was a gift after all.
"I destroyed it." There was no point in lying. For one he was horrible at it, and secondly he had much more respect for Jocaste than that.
To Bronil's surprise, Jocaste smiled, "You have passed my final test."
"Yes. You are not the only one who hunts demons, Nightwind. There are many such hunters. Too many of them choose to fight fire with fire. I wanted to make sure that you knew where true strength lied."
". . . and if I had failed?"
"Then I would have hunted you down, and showed you true strength in a more direct manner." she replied without hesitation.
Bronil couldn't help but smile. How fortunate he was to have such a great teacher.
A Set of ArmorEdit
A strange thing has happened to me. Now that I have finally obtained my armor from Jocaste, I find myself looking for another set of armor. On a recent trip to Ironforge, I met a woman who said she could upgrade specific pieces of armor. These pieces of armor are found in various dungeons and ruins throughout the Eastern Kingdoms. For a fair amount of coin and supplies, she is willing to upgrade the armor for me.
Finding the armor should not prove to be a problem. I had already planned on going to these places in the Eastern Kingdoms where evil lurks, and defeating it; or at the very least, contain it.
With luck, I will be able to gather the armor in a timely fashion. There is much to be done in this world, and I cannot spend too much time gathering supplies. Elune send that I have what I need when I need it.
So far, the armor eludes me. However, gold seems to make its way into my bags in the armor's stead. The armor items that I do find in the Eastern Kingdom dungeons, I cannot use, nor can any of the brave souls who I accompany into these dangerous places. It would be a shame to let the items rot in those dark places, so they are generally brought back to the Ironforge Auction House and fetch good prices. For my part, I rarely find much need for gold; the land provides me with all I truly need. Yet, in order to upgrade the armor I seek, it appears that I will need a considerable amount of gold; 500 pieces rumor has it. To that end, I participate in selling treasures on the Auction House for reasonable prices.
However, I cannot help but feel. . . guilty. Though I am hoarding gold for a noble cause, I am still hoarding gold. Why should I sell armor I cannot use? Would the greater good not be best served by finding a Paladin or other noble warrior who can use the armor and items, and give it to them free of cost? Most likely it would. Am I then selfish for wanting armor at the expense of others? Perhaps so.
At the time of this entry, I have 286 pieces of gold. When this affair is over, and I have my armor, I'm taking any left over gold and giving it to the Stormwind orphanage, or perhaps to the coffers of the Rangers. The very sight of it is beginning to disgust me.
Aside from gold, another oddity has presented itself. For whatever reason, my name is beginning to become recognized in Ironforge. People whom I have never met in my life know of the name 'Nightwind'. I do not yet know if this a good or a bad thing. . .
Awbee and the Matron MotherEdit
As you may have noticed, Celesst, more than a few pages in my journal have distorted ink on them. That is an unfortunate consequence of a recent trip I undertook.
It began in the upper portion of Blackrock Spire. In that dreadful place, the Black Dragonflight plots to make the world their own, enslaving all of the races. The other Dragonflights know of this treachery, but can do little against it for Blackrock Mountain provides excellent defenses. To further their malicious goals, they perform. . . experiments, on those who fall victim to them. These victims include members of other Flights. One such member was an unfortunate blue whelp by the name of 'Awbee'. His body looked beaten to the point where it looked as though he would stay as he lay for the rest of his days. Yet, beaten as he was, he could still speak. He told me of the experiments, and of the horrors that he and his kin were forced to endure. His last wish was that I venture to Winterspring and relay his words to Haleh, the matron protectorate of the Blue Dragonflight.
I simply could not bring myself to refuse.
After the band I was with had accomplished our goal of slaying General Drakkisath, I left the Eastern Kingdoms and made for Winterspring. Once in Winterspring, I was to journey to the caves of Mazthoril, where the Blue Dragonflight makes its home. Perhaps naively, I expected to be allowed to see Haleh without conflict as I was acting on the Flight's behalf. That was not so. Rather than welcomed, I was attacked by the whelps outside the cave.
Had I been so inclined, I could have killed them with little effort, and that is boast; it is simple truth. Indeed, my every instinct of self-defense tried to drive my hand to my quiver, and give Kodrak the message to attack. Fortunately I was able to restrain myself. I had not come to Mazthoril to kill dragons. So I made my way through the cave without drawing the notice of the dragons within.
Eventually I found the cobalt runes that Awbee spoke of, and was teleported to Haleh, who stood at the top of the snowy mountain. Unlike her Flight, she greeted me quite kindly. I gave her Awbee's scale, and her mood changed as she used the scale to scry on what Awbee had experienced. Once she had calmed down, she offered to empower me somehow so that I may be better equipped to deal with the Black Dragonflight. Naturally, I agreed to help those who needed it.
. . . and was summarily thrown from her mountain to a lake in the Western Plaguelands. I am certain that I was unconscious for a good part of the. . . journey. . . to the Plaguelands. The leather of my traveling pack and my journal did well to stop most of the water, but not all of it. Thus, some of the pages of this journal were soaked by water from the lake.
Her reason for sending me to the Plaguelands? There was a high elf, Jeziba, residing in Andorhal who will craft armor of very high quality if I provide the materials.
It would have been considerate of Haleh if she had told me what she meant by "empower". Then I could have told her that I was already working on armor of fine quality, and my journal could have been spared.
In any event, I will be much more cautious in the future when a dragon offers to help me.
A Boy Called "Randis"Edit
Over the past day, I have learned that: night elves, bears, haunted places, ghost pirates, heights, and I, are all "awesome".
In Stormwind, there is an orphanage of some repute. Once a year they host an event called "Children's Week", that seems to be quite popular. So I trekked to Stormwind to see what all of the commotion was about. The event involves taking a child from the orphanage and giving them a tour of the world. Wanting to help out, I signed on right away; and that it is how I met Randis. It is strange how similar Randis and I are, despite our differences. Both of us have lost our parents to the horrors of war, and we both enjoy travelling around the world. He is also not without his childhood dreams, just I was when I was his age. For me, dreaming of becoming a Druid was enough. Randis on the other hand has aspirations to be the king of Stormwind, and a ghost pirate as well.
The boy has also gotten along extremely well with Kodrak; much to my relief. When I signed up for the event, I did not think about how a human child would feel around a bear. Fortunately, bears are apparently awesome, and Randis was not intimdated in the least by Kodrak. In fact, the first bit of sightseeing Randis wanted to do, was see the bank in Darnassus, which as you know Celesst, is a tree shaped like a bear. I thought about visiting you then, but Randis was very eager to journey to his next destination; the Stonewrought Dam. I realized that I myself had never been there either, which is ironic given my constant travelling.
Our final trip for the day involved going to Westfall and visiting a lighthouse reported to be haunted. Ghost stories are all well and good, but I was hesitant to take Randis on this particular trip; I know from experience that the undead are generally not fit for children to be around. Fortunately, this ghost was friendly.
It was at this time that some members from the Swords and Spells United coalition (of whom I met through my association with the Rangers) wished my company on a venture into Stratholme. There was no way I could or would bring Randis into that place. So I rented a room for him at the inn in Ironforge, and gave him some gold in case he wanted to see the city. He was disappointed about being excluded from an "adventure", but seemed to understand, and brightened when I told him we would continue sightseeing tomorrow.
He is asleep right now, and I write this entry at the table in our rented room. I suppose I should get some rest as well, but it has been elusive as of late. As always, Kodrak finds sleep with ease. Perhaps if I step outside for a bit the night air of Dun Morogh will relax me enough to sleep. According to Randis, tomorrow involves ice cream and Lady Proudmoore.
Sleep well, Celesst.
I have acquired yet another one of Elune's children. In addition to Kodrak, and the hawk owl you gave me a year ago, a turtle by the name of "Speedy" has now joined me on my travels. The turtle belonged to Randis, who then gave it to me in appreciation for taking him sightseeing. However, I'm afraid the places I walk are not fit for a turtle; even one such as Speedy, who surprisingly lives up to his namesake. I will be returning home soon and will bring Speedy with me. Teldrassil should prove to be a much better place for him than beside me.
I too, gave Randis a gift. After receiving an autograph from Lady Proudmoore, Randis claimed that in addition to becoming a ghost pirate king of Stormwind, he will also become an adventuring hero, "like you" he said. Flattered that the boy looked up to me so, I gave him the medallion that was given to me by Commander Valorfist for my efforts against the Scourge in the Plaguelands. You should have seen the way Randis swelled with pride as he put the medallion on. I truly believe he has the makings of a great man. I'm positive that our paths have not crossed for the last time.
So much has happened within the past week that I don't know if one entry is capable of relating it all. I suppose I should start at the beginning.
My expeditions into the ruins and dungeons of the Eastern Kingdoms have met with success; I only need a few more pieces and then I can begin the process of improving it. Still, I grow uneasy with each passing day. There's no telling how much longer this endeavor will take, but I pray that it is not much. The Burning Legion still touches this world, and I feel that only a precious few are truly aware of it. From my time in Ironforge, it seems that most concentrate their efforts on the Silithid, Black Dragonflight, Zul'Gurrub, and some place known as the Molten Core which I have only recently been made aware of. There can be no doubt that these are all noble efforts, but who is watching the Legion? Too few, I fear. With luck, my armor will be assembled quickly so that I may do my part against the Legion.
On a much more tragic note, the Rangers have accepted a new member; a Mage by the name of Ablythe. Her joining the Rangers is not the tragedy, but rather, the news she brought to me when she did. She is the cousin of Sonata. Sonata Catherwood.
I have never met Mistress Catherwood; I had only heard of her presence in Darnassus long ago. She was a human Priestess who wanted to dedicate herself to the service of Elune. An admirable goal. At the time, I knew of only one other individual like Mistress Catherwood; a human Paladin that had trained in Darnassus and claimed Elune as her deity. Unfortunately, her name escapes my memory; I know only that it contained the word "Silver". In any event, I was happy to hear that Mistress Catherwood had come to the Temple of the Moon. She had taken the land route from Stormwind, and as one who has traveled that same path before, I know it could not have been easy for her, epscially considering she is likely not as comfortable in the wilds as I am. Something told me that she would continue plunge herself into danger.
So I wrote her a letter, and sent her the Light of Elune. I recieved the vial as a gift for helping our kin in Ashenvale. It contained a bright liquid empowered by the goddess herself; a physical manifestation of Elune's love and care. I was instructed to use it only as a last resort by the one who gave it to me. However, I felt that Mistress Catherwood would need it much more than I, so I gave her the vial via the postal service. She sent word back to me expressing her gratitude and I still have that letter. Unfortunately I have not heard from her ever since, and now I know why.
She has become one of the Forsaken. Ablythe did not know the details, only that Mistress Catherwood had met with a very unfortunate accident resulting in her death and twisted rebirth. My gift could not protect her in the end, and because of that I somehow feel. . . responsible for her fate. Ablythe however seems to think that it is a strong possibility that the Light of Elune stopped Mistress Catherwood from becoming one of the Scourge. If that is the case, then I am somewhat cheered. Certainly being a Forsaken is the lesser of two evils. . . at least I pray that it is so.
It is strange. . . I have never met Mistress Catherwood, I only know her through one letter written long ago. Yet, I feel her loss as if she were a close friend. I also feel my faith in Elune has been shaken to it's core.
If Elune can guard against evil, then how could this happen? The only answer I can find is that She *let* it happen. I am trying very hard to see a greater good in such a decision. I have been unsuccessful thus far.
Shortly after the arrival of Ablythe, I found myself in Blackrock Depths. There was a man by the name of Windsor who had been taken captive by the Dark Iron dwarves. He seemed as if he had lost all hope; as though he had fallen from such heights that he could no longer climb back up. After some more exploration in the dungeon, the group I was with had come across some documents that gave Master Windsor hope. The documents indicated that there was apparently something sinister brewing in Stormwind. We proceeded to free Master Windsor from his captivity, fighting our way out of the dungeon. As we left, he requested that we rendezvous at the gates of Stormwind, and bring a small army with us.
For whatever reason, the group I was with was not interested in meeting at the city gates. Thus my "small army" consisted of myself, Kodrak, and Priestess Moonwillow (also a Ranger). So the three of us along with Master Windsor trekked through the streets of Stormwind, our destination being the throne room itself. It seemed, at first, that we would have to fight off the entire city guard; Lady Prestor made it quite clear that she wanted Master Windsor thrown in jail for treason, and that his accomplices also be shown to a cell. My right hand twitched, ready to go to my quiver, and my eyes scanned the guards for exposed areas in their armor. Kodrak, ever aware of my mood, let out a low growl.
It was Master Windsor that stopped the coming battle. He spoke with the leader of the city guard, and after they exchanged words, the city guard (despite the wishes of Lady Prestor) allowed us passage. They even went so far as to offer sincere praise to Master Windsor as we made our way to the throne room.
When we arrived, Windsor confronted Lady Prestor, claiming that she was of the Black Dragonflight. I must admit that I had my doubts about the claim. . . and then Lady Prestor, or rather, Onyxia, confirmed everything by changing from her human form and summoning others of the Flight to her aid. The ensuing battle was fierce. Kodrak and I made it out alive, but I have no doubt that we would have fallen had it not been for Moonwillow's healing and the assistance of the city guard. When the battle was over, Lord Fordragon presented with me something that Onyxia had dropped during her escape, a Fragment of the Dragon's Eye. It's power had been drained however, and I was given the task of finding someone to repair it. I was given no other information other than that.
I knew of one such person however. I only hoped that this time I would not find myself on the other side of the world. Once everything was ready, I made for Winterspring to pay another visit to Haleh. Her Flight was no less aggressive than it was last time, so again I had to make my way to her without drawing notice. She then informed me that in order to repair the Dragon's Eye, she would need the blood of General Drakkisath, I creature I had thought slain. However, it appears that Nefarian, Lord of the Blackflight, has managed to bring his General back from the grave.
It is no matter. Drakkisath has been killed before, thus he will fall once more.
The Stormwind BallEdit
I have failed yet again to grasp the social culture of humans. I cannot help but laugh.
Through the Rangers, I learned of a Ball (some sort of dance festival it seems) in Stormwind. My first reaction was to ignore it, as I do not dance in any sense of the word. Even in swordsmanship, which some consider to be a form of dance, I do not dance. I wield my swords "in a feral manner", so said Woo Ping, the man who taught me swordplay. However, I also learned that a few of the Rangers had planned to attend. I do not know very many Rangers outside Mistress Drahliana and Moowillow, so I decided to come.
It turns out that in human society, one does not bring a bear to a Ball. Weapons are also not allowed, though I saw little enforcement concerning that matter. Not wanting to be a bother, I respectfully kept my weapons elsewhere during the Ball. There was no explicit rule mentioning animals, so I allowed Kodrak to come with me. A few at the ball (mostly the Rangers) were friendly towards Kodrak, while others sought to jest and cast disdainful glances. At one point, I was asked by a dwarf to take Kodrak elsewhere, but upon explaining that Kodrak would not harm anyone (which I hold all confidence he would not) the dwarf reluctantly allowed Kodrak to stay.
How ironic that Kodrak, who fought and bled beside me against the black dragons in the Stormwind throne room, should be so outcast by the humans of the Stormwind Ball.
I cannot help but laugh.
A Bear's PerspectiveEdit
The morning air of Winterspring was sharp and cold depite the suns rays as Kodrak ran alongside the Big Cat. Atop the Big Cat was a two-paw. The two-paw was Kodrak's Friend, and he was a strange creature. His fur wasn't soft like Kodrak's. It was hard like rock and had a funny smell to it. Even stranger, his Friend could take his fur off, and even wear other pieces of fur. Sometimes the fur he wore was soft, but it never stayed just one color like Kodrak's fur.
Despite his strangeness, his Friend was not like most two-paws. He felt more like a beast to Kodrak. In fact, his Friend felt more like Kodrak to Kodrak. He didn't know why, but being around his Friend made Kodrak feel comfortable.
Suddenly, the Big Cat stopped, and his friend got off and chattered to the Big Cat who then layed down. Off in the distance the ground changed it's color, and wasn't soft and fluffy anymore. As he and his Friend drew closer, Kodrak growled. There were Dark Ones near. He could even see one of them and he prepared to charge it, waiting for his Friend to direct him.
. . . but his Friend did not tell him to charge. Kodrak did not know why. His Friend always hunted Dark Ones, and hunted them well. He badly wanted to tear at the Dark One with his claws and teeth. Dark Ones were not like beasts or two-paws. They were vicious and hunted when they were not hungry and inflicted uneeded pain on their prey. They smelled terrible, and used strange powers. Kodrak did not like them and neither did his Friend. Yet he and his Friend made his way through the Dark One without drawing notice, and without hunting the Dark Ones. Though he wanted to tear at the Dark Ones, he trusted his Friend, who always looked out for both of them.
Kodrak could not understand why his Friend was behaving this way. Couldn't he see the Dark Ones? Apparently so, for he and his Friend entered a cave and walked right up to a small Dark One with long ears. Kodrak readied his claws for the attack, but the Dark One did not attack. Again his Friend told Kodrak not to attack.
Then his Friend started chattering with the small Dark One, and the Dark One chattered back. After more chattering, his Friend reached into his fur and gave shiny rocks to the Dark One, who gave his Friend a smelly stick. Kodrak's confusion doubled. His friend seemed to treasure his shiny rocks and never gave them to enemies, especially not to Dark Ones! The Dark One chattered again and suddenly his friend drew his fang, holding it to the Dark One's throat. He hissed at the Dark One who cowered away. His Friend put his fang back in his fur and walked out of the cave with no more chattering or hissing.
The two of them made their way out the place with Dark Ones and back the place where the ground was soft and fluffy. His Friend got back on top of Big Cat and did not look back at the Dark Ones.
Bronil tried to ignore what he had just done, but to no avail. His conscience wouldn't let him off that easy. Looking to Kodrak, Bronil felt the bear's uneasiness and well founded confusion.
"I do not like it either, Kodrak."
Deals With an ImpEdit
In working with Deliana to upgrade my armor, I have done something that does not sit well with me. It started in Tanaris.
There was a goblin there by the name of Mux Manascrambler. Together we had been working to make a device that would allow us to speak with the dead. Most of it involved me running all over Azeroth on various errands and paying the costs for Master Mux's materials. That did not bother me in the least. I have grown disgusted by gold as of late and was glad to be rid of it, and of course, I am no stranger to travelling. So I would bring the materials back to Master Mux and he would use his skill in engineering to create the device. It just needed one more part: A Fel Elemental Rod.
The only place to get such a rod is in Winterspring apparently. It is sold by an imp in Darkwhisper Gorge. An imp! I have sworn to defend Azeroth against the Legion and have just given them forty gold for some rod soaked with their dark energy. Yes, I make a fine defender do I not?
Kodrak was troubled by this matter as well, I can feel it. If only there was some way I could explain to him the circumstances surrounding my actions. But there is not. Ends justifying the means do not carry any meaning to an animal, and perhaps that is how it should be.
My only comfort is that I will use this damned rod to make my armor stronger, and with it, kill many times that number of demons.
The device I spoke of in my last entry is now complete. I was told to venture to the gates of Stratholme and use it to speak with Anthion Harmon. As it turns out, Master Harmon's spirit is not content to leave this world just yet. His wife, Ysida Harmon, is apparently being held captive by Baron Rivendare, the lord of the Scourge controlled area of Stratholme.
In my dealings with the Scourge, I've never known them to keep captives. They are more interested in quickly forcing others to their madness through the Plague. What could Mistress Harmon possess that would give the Scourge pause? What is it that makes her more valuable to them alive, and uninfected by the Plague?
I suppose it matters not. Rivendare will soon be relieved of his captive and then it will all become a moot point.
Invasion on Two FrontsEdit
War comes yet again, and it is for this reason that I have not made any entries lately. I have been quite busy fighting and scouting.
Just as it was with the Silithid invasion, this war is fought on two fronts. The first is with the Scourge, whose buildings have been appearing in mid air all over the world (which I am certain you have no doubt heard of by now). The second is against the Horde, again. Prior to the battle at Cenarion Hold, Cairne Bloodhoof had been attacked by members of the Alliance, resulting in having to contend with both Silithid, and Horde out for revenge. I worry about the Horde this time because of information the Rangers have gathered concerning Sun Rock Retreat. It would seem that one of the Quel'dorei has been sending members of the Horde against the Sons and Daughters of Cenarius at Stonetalon Peak. So far apparently only the Rangers have taken interest in these killings.
For the time being, Mistress Drahliana has ordered there be no killing. She wishes to gather as much information as possible before sending the Rangers into battle. This is a wise decision for I am not sure as to how much of a fight we'd be able to put up. The Scourge have also been invading lands under Ranger protection and there is little need to gather intelligence, for these attacks are being carried out in a much more blatant manner than those carried out from Sun Rock.
Just as it was months ago, I cannot be two places at once. I had to choose whether to go to Cenarion Hold, or to stay at Darnassus and defend against vengeful Horde. However, with the alarming number of undead corpses strewn about the land, I don't believe there is much of a choice to be made in my actions.
Stonetalon Peak will have to hold its own for the time being.
Victory For NowEdit
Once again, another entry in my journal has been delayed. With the advent of the Scourge's latest ploy, I have had little time to myself. If I was not out fighting, then I was recuperating. Often times the battles left me so battered that it truly would have required effort to raise pen to parchment. Their numbers are limitless, and they are driven ever forward by the will of their master. They do not rest, sleep, or eat; war is all that is on their minds. Yet, they are not invincible.
I was there at the last battle in the Eastern Plaguelands. It was early in the morning, and my only support aside from Kodrak was Mistress Moonwillow, Master Stormfeather, and Master Daywalker. There was one final shard, and it was heavily surrounded by Scourge on all sides. Master Stormfeather and Daywalker were trained in the arcane, and Mistress Moonwillow as you recall is a servant of Elune. Thus, the only ones capable of getting into the thick of the battle were Kodrak and myself. I was not scared in the least. Though great in numbers, the Scourge are weak individually. The shock troops were barely able to harm Kodrak unless they had many of their companions with them. Even then, Kodrak would not fall. And it was Kodrak who took the brunt of the assault from the formidable Shadows of Doom, and still would not fall (much in part due to Mistress Moonwillow's healing magic, and the little skill I possess in that regard). Eventually, more of our allies from SASU reinforced our small army. After perhaps an hour's time had passed, the number of Scourge troops dwindled, and the shard was finally destroyed.
When I was fully rested from that last battle, I related what took place to High Ranger Drahliana (I have recently decided referring to her as 'Mistress' may be slightly inappropriate) and she seemed pleased to know that the Rangers were there for the final battle. After further conversing however, we agreed that this is likely just the beginning of a much longer campaign. For now though, we have won a respite.
Thus, I now head back to Stonetalon to investigate the Sun Rock matter more fully.
Crossroads at Sun Rock: FirehandEdit
As I feared, High Ranger Drahliana's claims are true. There is indeed a quel'dorei that resides at Sun Rock Retreat (by the name of Firehand), and it she who has been ordering the attacks on Stonetalon Peak. I know not to what end these attacks are carried out, nor do I care. Firehand's goals are obviously of a malicious nature and she must be stopped. To that end, as I understand it, High Ranger has distributed some sort of ultimatum to the Horde. The ultimatum essentially requests that the Horde hand the quel'dorei over to the Cenarion Circle for judgment, lest other action be taken instead.
This ultimatum will only escalate matters, I fear. Yet, I cannot think of any other solution short of going back to Sun Rock and assassinating Firehand. Elune send that this will work out with little to no bloodshed.
In other matters, I found a few documents on the bodies of Scourge troops during the recent invasion. After giving these documents to the Keeper of Scrolls at Light's Hope, I have finally recieved word back from him. The documents belonged to the Scourge troops I slew, and were perhaps the only remains of the lives they led before falling to the Plague. Thus, I could only give the documents to their surviving kin, who the Keeper has graciously are already located for me. Though my meetings with the kin initially brought sadness, I found that sadness was replaced by contentment knowing that their loved ones are no longer slaves to the Lich King's will.
I have only one document left to deliver, and it is destined for someone in the Temple of the Moon. Soon, I will be home once more. It is likely I will stay for a few days, perhaps a week. After everything that's happened recently, I could use the respite.
End of The Forgotten Journal of Bronil Nightwind Book 2
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