Dear Diary

Bromm's Journal

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0
8 March

Location: Caerdun

I sit now and compose this entry while basking in the rare sunshine on a fallen tree here in the valley of Caerdun. The quiet trickling of the stream can be heard behind me, mixed with the cheerful spring tunes of the many birds in the forest.

Caerdun is starting to grow on me.

I don't wish my journal to become a construction logbook, but I feel it worth mentioning about.

The first phase of the castle construction began Monday. The valley now rings with the sounds of construction: earth-moving machines, shovels, plows, hammers, axes, and picks. The men here all know clearly the importance of keepig to the schedule and are working with all their effort. The dry-ditch moat is being dug in conjunction with the formation of the northern motte to support the north branch of the castle defenses. I've given the work teams 1 month to complete the moat, motte, palisade, stone walls, and the vital cistern to be housed beneath the keep itself.

We're literally beginning from the ground up.

Since work began to ramp up, there has been a steady immigration of working men and women into the valley. Many eager and willing to set their hands to work.

It has occurred to me this past month that having composed my personal entries in Dwarven runes has been a precaution I'd not considered before. More than once I've caught distracted or prying workmen glancing over my shoulder at my writings. It has been an unsettling experience. Part of me wonders how much knowledge outsiders of the Servitors have of this project.

Light willing, they are merely curious persons who have never seen written Dwarvish before.
 
0
11 March

<A letter has been inserted between the pages and a date given on the page it occupies>

Quote:
To My Castellan, Greetings:

One hopes this letter finds you well. By now you may have heard of the return of your swordbrother, Hildan Pearce. He has returned lean as grief and strange of face, much changed all in all. It is hoped that proper nutrition, exercise, and a generous serving of time will reverse some of the damage done. If you have any words for him about your own ordeal they might be very welcome just now, providing you have the time to set them down, of course.


By now you must be wondering why on Azeroth I sent that gentleman with the nose and ears on to you. He needs to be protected, in truth, hidden away for a time. His nearest relative is engaged in some rather tricky business on my behalf that necessitates such measures. Do not be afraid to put him to work, for I have agreed he shall be compensated for his time. Perhaps he would enjoy having a crack at the black marketeering that goes on between the Caerdun folk and the mountain trolls.

Speaking of mountain trolls, I hear another band is moving south from the Hinterlands, at least that is what one of the sentries said he saw. You may want to keep an eye on their numbers. As thaw is nearly upon you, mobility shall likely increase in that area.


Thank you for the first sketches of the motte. I'm no architect so you will find my enclosed queries as brief as they are uneducated. You will note I've offered very few changes, mostly about palisade and dryditch. I found the cistern particularly interesting. It's a detail I would have missed, I am ashamed to say.


I look forward to your next update. In the meanwhile I remain

Yours in service,
P. Asteris
 
0
14 March

Location: Caerdun

It is growing steadily greener and sunnier here in the valley. The warmth is welcome and has made our progress here significantly better.

In my sparse free time, I've done a bit of exploring here in the valley. I've found some excellent and new flora specimens, especially up in the highlands and peaks. I've taken many samples but have yet to explore their qualities.

Flit has joined me this week. Rowan went to Copperville for a weekend off and brought him back when he returned. He is feisty and hyper as ever. I expect he'll find plenty of places to stretch his wee legs out here.

Last week, a goblin arrived here in the valley. Being a goblin, I was quite wary of his allegiances and his purposes in Caerdun. It seems he was sent here to me by the Lady Marshal. A relative of his is conducting some business somewhere for the Lady Marshal, and he was sent to me for protection and hiding away (what better land than Caerdun?).

I've made arrangements with him that he will be housed, fed, and protected while in Caerdun. In return, he has agreed to get involved with the local black market trading which takes place between the settlers here and the troll tribe in the north. We decided that it would be an appropriate cover for his purpose in Caerdun. If there is an illicit trade market in Azeroth, goblins tend to be not far behind.

After writing that, I'm somewhat surprised none have showed up already on their own.

The goblin will also assist me in the monitoring of the troll tribe's movements, numbers, and more. This is a blessing, I think, as it saves me the hassle of conducting scouting missions myself or risking a citizen of Caerdun to spy on them. Goblins are not known for their trustworthiness, but hopefully this one will give me half-truthful information in the least.

Construction continues at a good pace. We approach the mid-point of March and the lads and lasses crewing the project have made tremendous progress. I am a little unsure of where things may be at the end of the month however. Hopefully we will not be set back in our work schedule. The Lady Marshal's plans cannot suffer a delay.

With the influx of working men and women, there are many new and unfamiliar faces in our midst. I have again caught some folks attempting to read over my shoulder (not too difficult for them now that I consider it). Because of this, I have taken to recording my thoughts and letters in my private quarters or away from the construction sites.

I've also heard some mumblings from the crews of a hermit that lives on the other side of the valley. Rumors and tales of him are exaggerated (someone claimed he was Medivh returned, another thought Turalyon), but none seem to know exactly who he is or what his purpose here is. I put little stock into these whispers as hermits are not at all uncommon, especially in a rugged land such as Caerdun.

I expect this must occur each time another person comes to try and live a life of solitude in a quiet land like Caerdun. The talk about him will probably die down in a week and he will be forgotten, left to himself as he most likely wishes.
 
0
2 April

Location: Eastern Foothills, Caerdun

The warm air is beginning to return to the valley. I've wandered over the foothills in the east of the valley today. It was raining this morning at the work site but at noon it had stopped so I felt like going for a hike.

I enjoy the quiet and peacefulness that Caerdun has to offer. I've been in lands all across Azeroth and the Great Dark Beyond that have been similarly unpopulated, but few of those places I would call quiet and peaceful. Outland has very few inhabitants, but it is also quite desolate in places and much of the native fauna is hostile. The same can be said of the plaguelands and Northrend.

But Caerdun is none of these places. It is, in some ways, more similar to Pandaria. There is a deep history in Caerdun. Centuries, even millennia of history may be here, dwelling just beneath the surface and waiting to be discovered; a land lost to time and nature. Even with my stone sense having been idle for so many years, I can feel something within myself. Something within the earth and stone, reaching out to me.

It is refreshing. And yet, as our work here continues and pushes forward towards modernity, I feel like this special place may become befouled by what has stricken the rest of our world: Greed and anger waiting to despoil this sanctuary of timelessness and solitude. I feel as though my fears have been made evident by recent events.

Near four nights past, a fire broke out on the western foothills of the valley. I organized a fire-fighting brigade of local villagefolk and we raced to put a stop to it. The source of the blaze was a small hovel nestled in the bracken and junipers that grow in that area. The makeshift home had become a tinderbox. Light be praised, the men I'd brought were competent and brave and set an end to the fire promptly.

Once the smoke settled, I investigated the small home and found a man within. He was unconscious from the smoke and had many lacerations and stab wounds. I called upon the healing powers of the Light to save this man and it was so. (I think my hours of infirmary duty at Highbank last summer have done wonders for my confidence with healing spells.) The man awoke and was able to inform me what had happened.

He had been in his home when the blaze started. At the smell of smoke he had gone out to see what was on fire when a man burst through his door and assaulted him with a dagger. A grapple ensued and the man, Dunhill, was able to fight his way free to arm himself with a crossbow. The assailant attempted to flee but Dunhill fired a bolt into his thigh. As crossbows are notoriously slow at reloading and due to the smoke, Dunhill passed out and did not pursue.

After I had heard this, I gathered several men and rode out to bring the criminal to justice. He was found up in the western ridges, not far from the hovel. When I approached, he fled once more to a precipice and jumped to his doom, rather than being seized.

So strange, how one can so easily discard their own life. The man looked crazed though, and he spoke in a tongue which I had never heard previously. I am deeply troubled by this mysterious man and his attempt at murder. This was my first experience with serious crime in Caerdun. And I do not think it shall be the last.

And in the last few weeks, the local troll tribe has grown in number. I have no idea what their intentions are in Caerdun, but my past experiences with trolls has never been a pleasant one. I fear for any attack they may make, and wait nervously for every report the goblin brings me.

So many worries have been placed upon me. I understood the gravity of the Lady Marshal entrusting me as her Castellan. I understood that I would need to face adversity, and overcome tough challenges. I have always understood this.

I have faced many challenges and much adversity in my life, and Light be praised, I have somehow always managed to persevere and overcome. I have never wished to undertake something that was easy. I can't explain why. Whether it is my stubborn Dwarvish heritage, or because of the determination I have to see a job done, I have welcomed the difficult path.

But on days such as these, where the sun is shining and the warm air is embracing, I am thankful that I can simply lay among the dandelions and forget some of my troubles; to take the easy path, if only for an afternoon.
 
0
9 April

Location: Cabin

I thought I was glad to see the snow leave for another year, but with its departure has come rain in twofold abundance.

I must keep a better perspective though, for as irksome as it is to be soaked to the bone day in and day out, this rain means that the plantlife here will bloom soon and the river will widen and make it easier to bring logs down from the camp to the mill.

Progress has slowed on construction. Crews have begun work on the keep itself, using the old foundations of the original keep as a starting point. Thank the Light they don't need to dig in this weather or the castle would become a mud-hole.

Lady Marshal Asteris was imprisoned last week, on the second or third day of the month, I cannot recall which. She has been charged with murder and treason, and it reeks of falsehood. I do know that she once was imprisoned for the same crime of murder long ago, but she is a different person now and I do not believe she would ever again commit such an act. And I cannot even contemplate her committing treason as she is one of the most devoted military leaders the Alliance has, whether they know that or not.

Its dirty business, but I feel so useless. I know no high-ranking clergy or government officials well enough to aid in her release. Save for possibly one. Dunhill Gaskins.

It turns out that even former magistrates have some sway in human politics. Therefore, it was of vital importance to keep him safe in light of his recent assassination attempt. Prikka (who has been given charge of the Servitors as Acting Marshal) sent word to me straight away to secure him and keep him safe until a team could escort him to Stormwind.

Last friday we did this. As the light faded on that friday evening, I met with Etharion and Hiram, and several new recruits whom I had not met before: Arydd Blacktyde, Vittalia Cinderbloom, and Oneil Vardach. I extricated Dunhill from the cave I had him hiding in and we made our way across the valley as night came upon us.

Everything went fine until we (literally) ran into a group of trolls as we came down the southern defile into the Arathi Highlands proper. Before we could attempt to make peace and move on, the first shots were fired and a bloody brawl ensued. Luckily, our side escaped with only a few scratches and one gash. The same could not be said for the trolls. We likely made Caerdun some more enemies that night.

After that we were able to make it safely to Refuge Point where Dunhill took a gryphon the rest of the way to Stormwind.

This is all I have been able to do to help the Lady Marshal. I feel so helpless away in this valley. But I think that now, more than ever, I am needed here. No doubt the citizens will begin to hear news about her arrest soon, if they have not already. If they find that she has been imprisoned, they may believe her weak or corrupt and leave the valley, or worse, attempt to seize it for themselves. It is now that I must be strong, and show a firm and resolute face to the people here.

As a Paladin I must keep the peace; as Castellan I must protect the land and its people; as a Soldier I must follow my orders; as a friend I must loyally guard what she has entrusted to me; and as a Servitor I must do all these with Strength, Courage, and Compassion.

Light illuminate my path and keep the Lady Marshal safe.
 
0
2 May

Location: Caerdun

It is the beginning of May. I received word last week that the Lady Marshal was finally released from her imprisonment and cleared of all charges. Thank the Light for that. I am only sorry that it took so long. I hope she did not think ill of me for not writing or not visiting.

Rowan went back home to Dun Morogh last week to visit Ma, Aunt Halna, Uncle Ordan, and Liira. He returned with a few gifts from home, including my best buddy, Flit! Oh Light, when I first saw him scampering along the path beside Rowan, my heart instantly brightened. It always grieves me when I must leave the little bloke when I am off across continents. I had him staying back in Copperville until it warmed up out here in Caerdun (since I would be outside most days overseeing digsites and the castle). I've always wondered if being away for so long made him bitter towards me, but it seems he still knows who his papa is and leapt near three feet in the air into my arms! Now every day when I go out, little Flit is right by my side, just like back in his first months as a hatchling when I was off in Fray and the like. I think he enjoys it and I can't complain about his company.

But even the arrival of Flit could not turn my attention long away from the duties as Castellan. I've been training about two score of volunteers to serve as a militia for the residents of Caerdun. Hax brought me dark tidings last week about increasing numbers of trolls and some dark voodoo rituals they have been conducting. He thinks it is an act of battle empowerment and that they mean to strike against the men and women of the valley soon.

I pray each day and night that it never comes to blows, but I cannot ignore the signs. Trappers and woodsmen in the north have been going missing and I have ordered all remaining settlers in that area to relocate south to the main village for safety reasons. I fear greatly the prospect of open war, for I think we are too few here to make a stand. I have therefore sent word to the Lady Marshal, requesting the aide of our swordbrethren for some tactical strikes against the trolls to perhaps deter their attack or weaken their forces.

It is in times such as these that I remember to be thankful for the life I have lived and the life I lead and hope with all my heart that tomorrow brings good tidings and not dark.

Flit has finally settled in so I should do the same.
 
0
4 July

Location: Caerdun

Yesterday was a bloody mess.

Philomene returned to Caerdun a few days back. She was a welcome sight, both for her people, and for me. I don't know how much longer I could

No. Don't write that. It doesn't help.

In the last few weeks, the trolls became even more aggressive. They've been seen and caught headhunting the trappers and some of the woodsmen out in the forest. Rowan even saw it happen himself.

I had to put my foot down and do what must be done. Thankfully, Philomene was here so I had someone I could plan with to make the attack. I am glad, for without her I think we might have ran into the fray pell-mell and lost far too many good folk.

Instead, we took a more strategic approach. Even with all the volunteers, our numbers were barely a fourth of the trolls. I had an idea to make rigs for each of the infantrymen. The rigs would consist of a pair of scarecrows affixed to a wooden pole that the soldiers would carry on their backs. This way, each man would now look like three men, and our numbers would appear thrice as many.

I read about this tactic in a book I borrowed from the Silver Hand chronicles of the Second War in which the tactic was employed by a fortress garrison to ward off an invading orc army. It seemed to work well for them, so why not for us?

We crept our scarecrow army through the woods in the early hours of the morning so that we would be in position for the right lighting to make our illusion work. This way, in the low-light, the scarecrows and soldiers would just appear as silhouettes in the forest.

We struck at dawn. I led my line up the hill from the right, Philomene from the left. We managed to take them by surprise, and that little advantage may have been our saving grace. Those few moments of confusion and panic likely handed us our victory. Our soldiers dropped their scarecrows at the crown of the hill, once the illusion was exposed, and charged and fought like folk possessed. It was a sight to see, townsfolk rising up to cast their enemies from the land they had worked on and hoped to make a future in.

They were not trained soldiers. They were not well-equipped. But they had the heart and the determination. From the most seasoned veteran to the greenest stable boy with a wooden spear, each man and woman fought tooth and nail against those trolls. Philomene rode on her skeleton horse, draping the battlefield in shadows and working the trolls into a fit of dread. I rode upon Bruce, laying about foes with blade and shield and Light and potions, while Bruce's teeth and claws ripped the two-toed tusk-men to pieces.

Since we were outnumbered, I gave the troops plenty of explosive potions to throw well ahead of them at the troll encampment. We were driving them out and wanted to give them every reason to fear us in the future. Eventually, we were able to drive them into the tunnels beneath the mountain and then Philomene's demolitionist threw the switch.

Light, in all my years of mining, I have never seen that much rock and dirt collapse so quickly. I doubt that even a mouse could get back through those tunnels now. We've left a rotating group of lookouts to keep an eye out for any trolls that might be keen on returning.

We carted up the dead and wounded and went back to the village. Father Clayroad, Philomene, and myself treated the wounded to the best of our abilities. Afterwards, there was a somber celebration. All were glad to be rid of the troll threat, but none were glad for what had to be done, nor for the casualties we suffered. Trolls can regrow limbs, so they say, but humans and dwarves cannot. I fear some of those who fought will never be able to return to the quarries, or the mills, or the smithies they once occupied.

Yesterday, Caerdun proved that it was strong enough to persevere, but it was a challenge none relished to overcome.

Tomorrow I will go back to what remains of the troll camp and bury the troll bodies in a grave and burn them. Despite their savage nature, they deserve a burial. Whatever positive energy they carried will be born again by the Light and will empower its believers across the world.

May we be forgiven for what we did and be embraced by the Light and grow stronger each day in its power. May Caerdun prosper and grow now that its most immediate threat has been vanquished.
 
0
9 July

Location: Aerie Peak

It is hard to believe that I have not been to this place (or any place outside Caerdun) in five months. It is a place so familiar with memory and work.

I left Caerdun this morning and took the long road from there to Aerie Peak. It was morning when I left and it is now almost dinner time. If Meriwether were here there would be something delicious in the mess.

Two days ago, we held a formal ceremony to restore command of Caerdun back to Philomene and I was relieved of my duty as Castellan. It was a small ceremony, held in the great hall of the new keep and attended by only a handful of people. Father Clayroad was one, Rowan another, and a new face who came with Philomene when she returned. A man by the name of Mitchell Vickstone who I was told had a hand in getting Philomene freed from the stockades.

Yesterday I made my final preparations for my departure. I left final instructions for the master builder for completing the upper stories of the keep. If there will be no more interferences, it should be completed by the end of July, right on schedule. After that point, the construction will be finished and Caerdun's castle will be complete. As I write that, it astounds me how the hard work and determination of an organized group of people can take a pile of stone and wood and create something so formidable in such a short time. I am proud of their work and the outcome of their work and for being able to lead them in this endeavor.

Rowan told me he was going to stay in Caerdun. It does not surprise me. He had been looking for steady work as a lumberjack for years before he came here. And with Caerdun's rich forests and its growing population, I'd say he could end up staying here a good while. I left him the small cabin I called a home as I will not need it any longer.

I said my goodbyes this morning and I was surprised with the turnout. Up at the keep I said farewell to Lady Marshal Asteris, her officers, the masons, and the militia. In town, I said goodbye to almost everyone. It was touching to see so many folk turn out to see me off and to see all their faces again. Afterwards, I saddled up on Bruce with Flit on my lap and Snowball in tow carrying most of my things and we set out down the winding mountain path out of Caerdun.

It was a good day for travel, with warm weather (especially once I dropped out of the cool alpine valley) and sunny skies. I got Snowball and Bruce stabled and my things put in my old footlocker in the dormitory. We're on furlough now so the keep is void of any Servitor activity. Tomorrow night will be an anniversary party out at the steam pools so I'll need to get travelling early in the morning for that. Hopefully I'll see some familiar faces and meet some new ones too!
 
0

29 December 

 

Location: Aerie Peak  

 

Furlough has come to an end. We were allowed two weeks of leave after receiving news that the Siege of Orgrimmar has finally ended. Squink even served up a round of some liquor that had a real bite to it.  

 

My furlough was quite relaxing as I spent most of the time visiting family and feasting, as any proper Winter Veil is meant to be spent.  

 

Bruce and I made our first stop in Alterac where we spent a few days with Aunt Olga and her daughters. Thankfully they have not lost anyone else since Yrwan this summer. We honored his memory at the feast.  

 

After that I went to Hearthglen to join in the winter merriment hosted by Anne Hawkins for the Servitors. There was so much food! The women who work for her sure were friendly, too!  

 

I gave Etharion the Hearthfire pendant and winterberries. He looked like he liked the pendant. I'm still not sure if I did a good job of explaining what it meant for dwarves, but I think he liked it all the same. I was really happy that he wanted to share the winterberries at the party too! And I really hope that Essilte enjoys making a jam of them. 

 

In exchange (because it was a gift exchange) Etharion gave me a hand-tooled leather pack he made himself! It was so well done and had all sorts of pouches, slots, and pockets in it perfect for my herbs and potions. He even etched a full map of Azeroth on one of the sides, so that I won't ever be lost in my travels! It came just in time too. I think my old bag has seen the end of its days after another hole ripped through a patched spot. 

 

It made me feel bad that I didn't make something myself for him, but then again I think everyone is tired of me giving them potions. I couldn't think of a really unique potion or mix I thought he would like. 

 

The party itself was really great, especially since I hadn't seen some folk in quite some time due to my station at the field hospital in Durotar. I even managed to meet some of the newer recruits as well. 

 

The days after the party I spent making my way down from Hearthglen to Ironforge for the big Stonebrow Clan Winter Veil Feast. 

 

I made stops along the way in Caerdun, the Wetlands, Loch Modan, and Copperville to wish friends well and also meet up with clansmen to travel south. 

 

In Caerdun I said hello to the folk I'd met this last spring, especially the quarrymen, loggers, masons, and dear Father Clayroad. I picked up Rowan there too and the two of us met up with other Stonebrows and cousins, stopping for small feasts along the way. 

 

On the 25th we all showed up in Uncle Higvan's home in Ironforge for a huge feast. It was great having so many of the clan together again after so long. From Granpappy Gorval all the way down to little baby Afna, near the entire clan was there save for the Alterac Stonebrows who cannot afford to leave the Valley.  

 

Most of the clan stayed there a day or two before heading out. Rowan and I left last night and flew by gryphon to Arathi where we split up, heading back to Caerdun and Aerie Peak respectively.  

 

It really was a great Winter Veil. I hope everyone else enjoyed their time off.

 
0

30 December

Location: Aerie Peak

 

I had an interesting conversation last evening.

 

While hauling crates from a shipment of Pandarian herbs from the aviary to the storehouse, I had ducked into the forge to warm myself up. When I went inside I found some unexpected company also enjoying the warmth.

 

Dravinna, Etharion, Eliska, and Driftmark were there and conversation went many ways until falling on the topic of Bondings. Etharion and Driftmark lamented on what they stated were the failures of their own Bonds. Eliska and Dravinna know little enough about the tradition that I am afraid their opinion of it may now be tainted by what they've heard.

 

Etharion and I tried to explain some of the benefits of such a relationship, but I think our efforts were overshadowed by the mood of those gathered. And certainly the circumstances of their two Bonds did not make things lighter. They told me that Arydd and Cunegonde had bonded yesterday, however. Hopefully they can become a more optimistic example for the unfamiliar Servitors we have.

 

Everyone seemed pretty glum and I took a moment to look around at each other them. In our world, I don't think there's a single person who has not lost someone they love from all the wars we've endured, but some sure have lost more than most. When I looked around the room, I realized everyone else was in the "more than most" bin and I wasn't. I clammed up after that, not really sure if I could really say anything that could touch my friends or if I'd just sound like I didn't know anything.

 

Etharion and Driftmark left for a patrol in a somber mood, but soon later Sigarni arrived in a much more upbeat fashion. I think she's really taken to her role as Morale Officer. Her presence cheered me up just as much as the chestnuts she brought to roast. Prikka arrived with drinks and we had a nice talk. Apparently Eliska is a daughter of a farmer who farmed raccoons, eggs, and vegetables.

 

I had no idea she was a paladin before she was raised. She told me that she had served with a unit at the Wrathgate where she fell. If I didn't almost flood the forge with my blubbering when I heard that!

 

I'm not sure what it was that got me more, how heartbreaking it was to hear of another person struck down in their youth, or the realization that I could have very likely been in the same position or worse. I told them about First Legion and how we were ready to go fight at the Wrathgate before standing down. Eliska, bless her, wasn't upset as I'd expected. Instead she tried to make me feel better.

 

Sigarni's chestnuts helped too.

 

Shortly after we all filtered out. Sigarni going off to meet with Aerin; Prikka braving the snow to return to Squink; and from the scuttlebutt, Eliska likely going to see Trilink, another new recruit.

 

I didn't think I'd feel so down after such a good furlough, but I suppose that's how life is as a soldier. I can't help but feel a touch lonely right now. But my thoughts of how much loss folks in our unit have suffered is even more fixed in my thoughts.

 

I'll need to plan some more research excursions soon, Light willing.

 
0

4 January

Location: Aerie Peak

 

I hate when people tell me things and then ask me not to tell someone else. Especially when that someone else is our commander!

I hope that we gave Frank some good advice and sense about his situation. I can't help but have a bad feeling about it.

He said he might tell Etharion. I hope he does. Etharion would probably be the best officer for him to tell first.

 

Dravinna said that warlocks can smell lies. I hope that's not true!

I don't think she meant it.

 
0

21 September

Location: Aerie Peak

The Servitors are walking on thin ice these days.

A month ago we failed to rescue several students from Stormwind who were captured by the Iron Knuckles.

And it's now been almost two weeks since we lost Bloodeye after capturing him in a rescue mission for Jo and Zekaar.

I haven't seen Etharion this miserable since Meriwether died. We try to keep up spirits as best we can, but we're so wound up and worrieda bout making another mistake that I fear something may snap at any time. I am praying it does not.

Etharion has us heading to Eversong this week to attempt to find the grave (or prison) of another victim of the Unnamed. It's dangerous, and could possibly be just the opportunity for us to botch something else up. I am trying to take extra measures to ensure that does not happen. I have been asked to prepare a potion that will allow us to disguise ourselves as races of the Horde so that we may more easily pass through their territory. I had to call in a number of favors to find the best recipe for this one but everything seems to be solid. Several members of the unit are procuring the necessary ingredients (I had hoped by asking them to do so, it would take their minds off our failures for a bit, or at least keep them occupied). 

I am glad I asked M to retrieve the essences. She seems like one of the most capable, if not the most. She almost sounded too willing to do it.

We will be finalizing the potions this Wednesday evening so that they have time to ripen before we embark a few days later. I do hope this will be the hardest part of our mission.

 
0

22 September

Location: Ironforge

Down in the City for the day. Had to get some specialty equipment for the disguise potion to be brewed this week. There is something refreshing stepping into the old storehouse and having the scent of dried herbs enter your nostrils.

Sometimes its the little things.

Had a good conversation at the Hearth last night. Loads of folks there. Nelmadge has returned to us, and she seemed energetic as ever. A companion of hers was there as well, a gnome with blonde hair. I did not catch her name but she departed from our company in the Light's name.

While we were there, Bran was promoted to Initiate. The informality of promotions recently has rubbed me raw. Bran seems like a solid bloke. Spends an awful lot of time fiddling with his rifle though. He has a fox named Reynard who follows him all over the place, and M has taken a fancy to him. She was enjoying a nice bit of petting Reynard when Bran said he wouldn't mention her being nice to anyone.

I thought that was odd (he also called me 'lad', I probably have a decade on him) and when I asked why, they both told me about how they 'do bad things' and it being known that they can 'do nice things' would make them seem weaker to others. If you want to pet a fox and enjoy being nice with friends, then pet a fox and enjoy being nice with your friends for Light's sake! Being nice isn't weakness, being cruel is.

And then they went on about how bad stuff has to happen so that good people can go on doing good. As if I didn't know that myself. Like they are the only ones in this unit who kill people. Like they are the only ones who have to do 'the dirty work', or be savage and ruthless. Like they are the only ones who have seen horrible things in this world. Like they are the only ones who have lost someone they truly cared about, or part of themselves for the good of others. Like they are the only ones that can hold grudges, or want revenge.

Like I haven't seen my best friend and her children get blown to pieces by a Forsaken saboteur.

Like I wasn't there when my allies were thrown around like rag dolls by monstrous tentacles and had their minds rent by an Old God's servant.

Like I haven't run down a goblin who was in the wrong place at the wrong time with my charger.

Like I haven't ripped another man's throat out with my own hands.

They haven't served in a field hospital where soldiers and civilians pour in night and day with missing limbs, fel curses, magical injuries, holes in their chests the size of a frying pan. They don't understand that I know the consequences and results of doing 'bad things' all too well. They may know the results of their work, but its never been their job to save people from those effects.

Killing is easy. Saving a life is not. 

I don't know what everyone's ruddy problem is with brooding over what we do. Yes, we do bad things so that others don't have to. But that doesn't mean we should become the embodiment of what we have seen and felt and done. If we do that, we become the things and people we fight to destroy. We become our enemies, and then they win. And that's what they want. Lothar knew that when he was battling the Horde and the entire Alliance was on its heels in the Second War. He knew we had to rise above those we fought, and stand for what we believed in. I sometimes worry that people forget that these days. 

Maybe they need something to believe in.

 

 
0

 (A letter has been inserted between the pages)

 

Dear Sergeant Brommidor,

I managed to secure a meeting with some co-religionists in Silvermoon. From them I was able to retrieve a few samples of blood elf hair, which I hope will be enough to successfully craft your polymorphing potion. 

Please find the samples attached to this letter.

Light's Blessings,

Applicant Cassandriel Skygazer

 
0

23 September

Location: Aerie Peak

Made it back to the Keep last night with my supplies. Spent the whole morning getting things set up and ready to go in the lab for tonight. 

So far it looks like everything I need is ready and I'll just be getting some help with it tonight.

M and Cassandriel made good on their word to retrieve samples from Horde races. M didn't tell me how she got hers, and I don't think I really want to know. And I think she is okay with that.

Cassandriel however sent me her samples via post (unusual) and explained her methods. Seems as though she was able to find some elves who willingly gave her some hair. This troubles me. I have no idea how much she could have told them about what we intended to do with their hair. And I find it extremely suspicious that any blood elf would willingly give a few locks of their hair, regardless of whatever cause it may be for (far too vain and possessive those elves). Even if they are amicable to Alliance relations, I would not think they would aid in such a mission so easily.

I am now more worried than ever with the outcome of the upcoming mission. If Cassandriel has told the elves more than she should have, we may have a harder go at things than even before, when they didn't know we were coming. 

Just means our disguises and plan will have to be that much more flawless to pull this off. I am not as confident in being able to do a bit more exploring of their city on the side any longer. It will be a miracle to pull off the mission on its own. 

It's a shame, I agree with Cassandriel that there are likely many unknown treasures of Holy knowledge hidden behind the walls of that city, and I would surely like the chance to try and dig for some of those. I had made a plan to do so years ago, and I was hoping that this may be my chance, finally. Perhaps this is a sign that I should never be allowed to do that which I desire.

One day, journal. One day.

Light, I hope we can pull this off.

 
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