Dear Diary

Dexter's Data-Log

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*This journal is encased in a mechanized cover of several locks, retinal scanners, and metal. Within the first page is inscribed the owner's name in a flourish of emerald ink*

To the discoverer and snooper whom has infiltrated my personal notes:

Shame on you, that is ever so rude.

Last edited by Brommidor Stonebrow on Apr. 3rd, 2012 12:30 am; edited 1 time in total
2 April

Today I was revealed the multitudinal dimensions of my inadequacies all within the span of hours.

I have seen a fellow Servitor fall in battle, with life-threatening injuries.

I was unable to right an injured gryphon safely to the ground.

I watched helplessly as my gnomish countrywomen suffered grievous wounds and pain.

I stood by, unable to assist, as a young maiden fell at our doorstep with two fiendish blades buried in her flesh.

In the moments of panic, pain, and death, all I could do was watch and wash away the mess like some lowly custodial assistant.

I have seen the limitations of my skills and I am disappointed.

I have been measured and found wanting.

I am. Insufficient.
28 May

Thrilling advancements!

I've recently slipped into a frenzy of inventive genius! Out of it comes a bountiful harvest of fascinating discoveries and devices.

New goggles, poultry-blasting devices, turrets, even comical toy versions of steam tanks have all come from this time of great invention.

The tantamount achievement has been, by far, the gyrocopter. I spent nearly a week straight without rest in the workshop at the Keep constructing the speedy, maneuverable machine.

This week I have begun flight safety tests before I begin flying it in combat situations or on missions.

I even gave it a flashy emerald paint job with a Yeti's maw around the central turbine. I am told that having such an image will help invoke fear in my foes as I pilot my craft. I myself would most likely fear the payload or weaponry on the gyro, not the paint job.

I hope I can field test my devices on some missions soon, the mind control cap looks most promising.
13 June

Splendid progress on my tinkering lately!

I've finished making several modifications to the gyrocopter and have begun selecting armaments and attachments to use for it. Thrilling indeed!

There have been several missions posted to the Academe and one which I am thoroughly interested in is the misison to the Magister's Terrace on the elven isle of Quel'Danas. If I recall from my studies, this isle is where the legendary 'Sunwell' is guarded and the luxurious palace of the Magister's Terrace was once used by the vile magus Kael'thas Sunstrider. I have no doubt that there are infinite possibilities of arcane discovery within such a place. I find myself rather eager to visit.

I've also volunteered for the mission to a troll settlement known as Zul'Farrak. My interest here is mainly in seeing more areas of Azeroth as I've only visited Kalimdor three times and Tanaris is much farther south than I've ever been. The mission stated that the trolls practice some archaic magic in relation to water elements. Curious as, by definition, a desert has a distinct lack of water.
15 June

Truly remarkable what a rune and a skilled mender can do. The arrow-wound I suffered within Zul'Farrak last night seemed as though I would be able to neither cast nor write ever again. Whatever deities Prikka and Meriwether trust in, may they bless them both.

The three of us and Miss Reddwyn ventured into an old troll stronghold known as Zul'Farrak last evening. We were there in search of possible connections between the local inhabitants and the Twilight Cult.

Meriwether has a kind heart, for he observed that we were indeed trespassers upon trollish territory and therefore we elected to use nonlethal methods to make our way through the ruinous stronghold.

We made good time and found several interesting sites: a fountain of sorts accompanied by piles of skulls; a large pool of water, also accompanied by skulls; many large serpent statues. And our final discovery. That of a large stair with an enormous crowd of trolls gathered at its feet.

That was the last thing I remember seeing before toppling posterior over cranium off Meriwether's back (he was allowing me to sit upon him in his canine form whilst veiling us both with a clever illusion spell) and into the dusty sand.

Upon regaining my feet, I turned to find the hulking form of Meriwether savagely ravaging a troll's windpipe, silencing a scream of surprise. As I stood, I noticed two other bodies already laid low in similar fashion.

I had no time to consider my colleague's actions before the large gathering of trolls at the stairs advanced upon us. I alerted the Advisor straight away and by the time she had joined us at our position, we were facing at least two dozen fierce-looking trolls and counting.

They came to a halt out of spell-shot upon seeing the carnage of their comrades at Meriwether's feet. I did my best to appear threatening as well, for I knew no matter how intimidating Meriwether may have looked, to the trolls he was alone, but my presence as well as Prikka's soon bolstered our threat.

A most curious thing happened then. Instead of charging us as I had expected, their shaman summoned dangerous elemental spirits upon us. We were assailed by biting winds which carried sand at our eyes and set our feet off-balance. As we withdrew, a large raincloud appeared and poured down its immensity upon us. But before we could be swept away (and before I could don my Modular Oxygen Uptake Transfluidic Helmet) the waves of water sank into the sand. (I would learn later from Meriwether that this was because Tanaris is an arid desert and any surface water is quickly absorbed into the tough salt-pan ground.)

I thought we were in the clear, until we rejoined with Reddwyn and were beset upon by archers. I panicked and spoke the first spell to come to mind: the clever illusion spell which creates three images of myself to confuse the enemy. In this case, it did not work as an arrow struck true, straight through my casting arm. Such agony I have not felt in my lifetime.

I am lucky, truthfully. Were it not for Meriwether's boldness and skill, I would have first fallen to the crowd of trolls, or lagged behind the group suffering a grievous wound impairing my escape, or finally facing the possibility of losing my casting arm, or at least the ability to conjure spells with it.

Meriwether is a brave man. He is also more clear-minded in combat than what his sheepish demeanor in the kitchens may let on.

Whatever anyone may say of Meriwether, I shall not forget his selflessness within Zul'Farrak. I believe I can definitely classify him as friend, the first I've made within the Servitors. Both the Sheep and the Wolf.
20 June

Great Gears, this day could not have been much worse. Unless of course Artie had suffered a wound thirteen centimeters to his middle.

I suppose chronology would be best applied in this entry.

In the early evening, a team of Servitors met upon the Isle of Quel'Danas, the home of the Sunwell. This team consisted of Advisor Graymind, Sergeant Shadowquill, Initiate Whitewind, myself, and it was lead by Adjutant Pearce.

Our goal this time was to break into the magical former seat of power of the magus Kael'thas Sunstrider, Magister's Terrace, and retrieve any artifacts within that we deemed could be of use to us. Adjutant Pearce designated myself as the retriever of arcane artifacts and we set out.

We encountered token resistance at the entry by holdout Blood Elves before making our way into a dimly lit chamber. Within, there were multitudes of deranged elves known as 'Wretched' whom were gathered about massive fel crystals, greedily drinking in their energies. We put a stop to the abominations at once (in their drugged state, they didn't put up much of a fight), and then realized there was an over-sized elf with horns and demon-touched skin at the center of the chamber.

Now, this elf had a curious apparatus set upon his torso which seemed to enable him to draw energy from all of the fel crystals in the room at once. We engaged him and brought him down swiftly (again, drugged) and we set to work cleansing some of the fel taint and studying the curious object he was using. I made several sketches of it as it was too large for Artie to carry.

The next chamber we entered was filled with filthy mana creatures that swam in the air like unpleasant fish. There were so many they overloaded Artie's circuits. Then we confronted the largest creature of the arcane I've ever witnessed. We had to fight it carefully and I only nearly managed to summon a barrier to contain it's implosion once it was defeated. Upon it's demise, we found it's essence in a small orb of volatile arcane energy. I procured that as well.

As we exited the first structure (I was disheartened to go because there were so many BOOKS) Artie was functional again and his Fel Geiger Meter detected a massive spike of fel energy from the chamber we had left. Not long after we were swarmed by crazed imps and our only exit was through portal. We managed to get out just in time before we were overwhelmed. Unfortunately, several of us sustained injuries:

*several teardrops splatter the parchment here before the text picks up below*

Adjutant Pearce suffered severe burns, as did Sergeant Shadowquill; I managed to dodge the fel-bolts but Artie was not as lucky.

Oh, the Commander has asked me to assist her with something in the kitchen. I'll write more later.
20 June, late

Just finished an encouraging conversation with the Commander, but first I'll finish recounting the evening upon our return.

Both Adjutant Pearce and Sergeant Shadowquill were taken to the infirmary to be treated.

Meanwhile, as I made my way through the portal, I found Artie in tow, yet missing two of his extremities. It was quite possibly the most heart-wrenching thing I've seen done to a robot, an arm and a leg both melted clean off by fel magic. Poor Artie just stumbled forward and scraped the ground in an effort to continue following me. I swept him up and away to the workshop straight away to survey the damage.

As I sat there, by brave companion looked at me with his retinal observation orb and hummed a sorrowful series of pings and beeps. I conjured some arcane energy and willed it into his circuits, manually powering him down before setting to work. I believe I would rather endure the pain of another arrow through my arm than watch such a sad sight again.

As I sat in quiet contemplation, Brigeda Stormbolt, that Wildhammer Shaman we met a few nights ago, approached. And instead of being empathetic towards my feelings and letting me be, she instead insisted on figuring out why I was mourning the grievous injuries of Artie, even going so far as to tell me what I should be doing instead of grieving.

Isn't it obvious woman? He sustained heavy damage and could have been completely scrapped or been put out of commission. Not only would I have lost the vast amounts of data, schematics, projects, and plans stored within his system, I could have lost the single stalwart companion I've had for the past fourteen years.

I told her as much in somewhat politer terms (omitting the friendship portion), yet she still continued to badger me about why I would feel sorrowful about damages to a robot, even going so far as to say he was never alive. Pah! He's as alive as any of her elemental consorts ever have been. Consternation abound.

Eventually Eleanore approached and thankfully convinced the belligerent dwarf to leave me be. I slowly set to work making repairs, beginning with the removal of the damaged extremities. Squink and Prikka must have heard me for they soon found me and offered their consolations. If anyone in the Keep would have understood my turmoil, it was they. My Gnomish compatriots, my kinsfolk. Just when I was beginning to feel odd and alienated, they softened my woes.

In very much the same manner, I believe I can safely name them friends along with Meriwether.
21 June, evening

Today was in polar opposition of yesterday. I was bestowed several gifts of sorts by the Commander.

Last night she and I enjoyed a quiet conversation in the kitchens. She said she wished my company whilst she prepared a soup for Adjutant Pearce. The soup was absolutely the tastiest soup I've ever had.

We spoke about several topics. Primarily about tinkering it seemed. I think she was curious to find a reason for my woes she witnessed earlier in the workshop.

I think she understood, in some way, about my joy of tinkering. It brings me a happy sort of reprieve and seclusion from the madness of the world while I concentrate on the minute detailing of devices and inventions. For her, it seems she enjoys writing, as she mentioned she found the scents of inks pleasing.

To each their own, as the human phrase goes.

She told me that I would have enjoyed the company of the unit's former Chief Engineer, Miss Davvi Dolittle. I admitted to having been a fan of her work which led to a pleasant discussion on inventions of hers.

And mention of those inventions carried over into today it seems, as I awoke to find a computational engine in the workshop, displayed for my viewing and examination. I was ever so touched with the thoughtfulness of the gesture. I'd never thought I would have been able to see, let alone examine a work by Miss Dolittle's. I cherished the moment.

The rest of my day went on in much better spirits. I documented the previous night's inventory of objects retrieved from the mission.

After dinner, I found on my bunk an ample supply of rum alcohol and a map which consisted of dashed lines and a large red 'X'. Either this is the map directing me to Davvi's old workshop on Fray Island, or the Commander is a subversive buccaneer.

Once I am done penning this, I think I'll make a visit to the former Servitors base.
22 June, dawn

Great gears, my head is still spinning. Note to self: If you barter with the Fray Island piracy using rum as currency, refuse any offers to join in their intoxication. I believe the only reason I was not robbed is that I took shelter within Miss Dolittle's old workshop for the night which is a bit small for humans.

Ah yes, but I did make it here after all. I teleported to Theramore and flew northward following the cryptic map (red lines on parchemtn never seem to coincide well with actual landmarks or trails). Upon my arrival on the sandbar, I was confronted by several plunderous fellows. The peace offering of rum seemed to appease them and I was allowed to roam the island freely, save for any of the buildings other than the workshop.

I took a brief time to explore the small island. It had a quaint nautical atmosphere and I believe it may have been pleasant to have been stationed here. However, the ubiquitous sand found here would surely have afflicted my devices, in those terms I rather much enjoy Aerie Peak.

After a time I made my way to the gem of the island, in my eyes: the abandoned workshop.

It was gnome-sized, which was something I have seen less and less of since Gnomeregan. It seemed to be a hollow shell of what it most likely was in it's hayday. The shelves and workbenches were all but empty. The storage lockers and cabinets contained a few spare parts here and there, an old can of oil, but nothing of great interest could be found.

That is of course until I found a hidden switch on the underside of the drafting table.

The secret vault which opened from a sealed, hidden trapdoor was the proverbial treasure trove. Within there were mounds of sweets as tall as myself! Lollipops, hard candies, taffy, jelly beans, chocolates, licorice, lemon drops, fudge, cookies, and much more. I believe Davvi Dolittle is likely the wealthiest gnome in Azeroth with that much loot stored away.

But that was not the end of it. Also within the vault were many odd devices and some schematics. I found a first generation Gnomish Communication Device, a clay model of a robot entitled "Mr. S", and even what looked like an incomplete prototype of some sort of ray gun. There were many more wondrous devices as well as documents but the true jewels of my search were to be found on a small work table in the rear of the vault. They were a simple pair of mechanic's goggles and a pair of worn leather work gloves. It's curious, how some of the simplest possessions one may own can turn out to be the most cherished.

Knowing this I dared not defile this sanctum of wonders more than simple peeking about. I left the vault in the manner in which I entered and made sure to seal it carefully upon my exit. I fret to think of what horrible atrocities would follow should those vile pirates pillage the place.

As I wrote before, I embarked on a bit of drinking (it seems to be a ritual many of my peers invoke when they are beset by great many woes, I used it as an experiment) with the pirates and then somehow found myself asleep within the small workshop this morning.

I shall portal myself back to the Keep once this headache ceases.
2 July

I woke up this morning in a pile of purple pillows someplace inside the Exodar.

My hair is pink and styled an outlandish way.

And I have no recollection of how I got here or what I did.
3 July

I remember most of it now.

Great gears, that was the worst best most memorable night ever.

Squink and Prikka, my stalwart gnomish compatriots, flew their unwavering flag of friendship and concern in assisting me to recover from my episode memory freakout incident last evening.

Almara and Axasa were both so kindly concerned as well.

We ended up going back to Prikka's and Squink's pad (which was delightful!) where we shared conversation and bottomful magewine until we all drifted off to slumber. Myself on that plush bear rug they have.

So cozy.
5 July

I managed to find a capable hair stylist in Stormwind who was able to... repair my follicular fiasco.

Ordered a shipment of ore and parts to begin the repairs needed for Artie's arm and leg. I also ordered a few other parts to begin construction of a combat tactical robot to use in the field. After what happened to Artie at the Magister's Terrace, and after Squink's suggestion, I feel it prudent to replace his presence on combat missions with a more... durable bot.

Once the parts all come in, I'll set to work on them. After what happened this week, I think it's safer if I remain in a workshop or laboratory the rest of furlough.
28 November

Today we were informed that the Alliance is at war with the Horde on the newly discovered continent of Pandaria.

It is uncertain what influence this campaign may have on the local inhabitants and of what magnitude the resultant campaign may have.

Also, there was a walking, talking tree in the keep today. Miss Woodrey, Sir Holmewood, and I made friends and named him Sir Tree.

He planted himself right outside the entry to the keep. I shall greet him each day I pass him.
10 May

Great gears it was good to be back in the field last night.

Hiram organized a sabotage mission against an important Horde communication route in the Stoetalon mountains. It was quite possibly one of the most extreme environments in which I have ever participated in combat.

Hiram and that contemplative Kaldorei fellow, Brassalinok, made a base jump from a cliff on the border to Ashenvale to the base of a Horde elevator. They then planted seaforium charge on a zeppelin before slipping off back to the cliff. Once they were safely away, Naridas remotely detonated that sucker into the biggest fireworks show Stonetalon has seen!

Meanwhile, Vittalia, Arydd, and myself rappelled down the cliff face to cover their escape. We were greeted by a squadron of windriders. If I had been in my gyro, they would not have even confronted us, but since we were on foot, the fools thought we would be easy targets. Vittalia and I made them pay for underestimating a pair of highly skilled gnome magi. And Arydd put her rifle to good use as a rifle and a spear. We defeated our foes just in time for Hiram and Brassalinok to arrive and we scaled the cliff once more to safety where Naridas had been covering our escape winches. He'd also made short work of two orcs himself!

We were exceedingly fortunate not to have suffered any serious wounds and I whipped up a portal back to base before the Horde knew what happened. It was good to be back out with the unit again, and even more so to knock the rust off without suffering any harm (well, there was that close call with the arrow, but I guess I'm still the quicker draw with my shields).

Everyone kept their cool under fire, but I thought I saw something strange happen with Vittalia during the battle. It must have been some powerful conjuring magic she learned while on Draenor because I have never seen a spell like it before. Truly astonishing, she is. I'm looking forward to working with these fellows in the future.
21 May

I heard some buzz over the GCD recently.

It sounds like the gnome Davvi Dolittle Rattleclank has been found and has returned to Aerie Peak. The. Davvi. Dolittle. Rattleclank.

I think I fainted (twice!) when I first heard the news. I am equal parts nervous and excited to be back from my duty aboard the Skyfire.

I hope that Lady Marshal Asteris does not tell her about my excursion to Fray Island last summer!

Oh Gears that would be awkward.
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