Journal Entries of Lavielen Ragecrest

*The diary is leather-bound, the hide dyed a dark blue.  The pages, while well cared for, show the obvious marks of an owner who travels much.*

Feb. 1

I slept at home for the first time in...a week?  Ten days?  It all bleeds together sometimes.  It was the first comfort I had in some time.  No matter the darkness of the world, few things refresh me like the scent of leaves in the air, soft sounds of the forest, and the glow of wisps as they hover around Darnassus.  After all, I needed a rest after my freelance missions helping Kurdran Wildhammer establish himself in the Twilight Highlands.  There are dark things happening in that land...

Last night, I spent the night at the local inn, listening to the crafters and traders who are my neighbors as they relayed tales of their travels.  They asked me of mine, and I responded with tales of my travels.  Not many, though.  They seemed unsatisfied.  They did mention, though, that the human King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind is seeking allies on a mysterious rescue mission.  Maybe that will be my next stop.  As much as I love this city, my home, there is nothing left to keep me here for more than my bed and the pictures on my wall can give me.  I leave at first light.

Rather than taking the direct ship to Stormwind right away, I decided to visit some places before diving back into my travels.  Flying over the water from Rut-Theran, I stopped at the Ruins of Auberdine.  It only re-opened old wounds.  I found nothing the last time I was here, nor the time before that, or prior to that...yet I keep hoping to find something new.  A clue, a connection, but nothing.  I don't know what I expected.  Maybe all I will ever have is my hope...and the necklace.  She's already buried at home, but there's not a body there.  If I ever find what I'm looking for, I can only hope...that it won't be one to put there.

I should have gone to see Riande when I was in the city, but I never do.  She'd be happy to see me, but I can't bring myself to do it.  Not since The Sundering.  I don't want to talk about it, just to search in silence.  Regardless, my next stop will be in Ashenvale.

Ashenvale is a ruin of what it once was.  The beauty is still there, though.  Just harder to find.  The hum of natural life around the forest never fails to bring a smile to my face.  Old friends inhabit the inn at Astranaar, and I'm always glad to see them.  Lyran, one of my fellow warriors back from youth, and I caught up quickly.  He's been making his way killing off the Horde scum that think the tragedy of the Cataclysm is a good excuse to establish a hold in this part of Kalimdor.  I offered to help him wipe out a scout party tomorrow, and I intend to.  It's been too long since I put down some orcs.

Back to happier thoughts, though.  Lyran and his fellow guards were looking to blow off some steam, so I thought to teach them a drinking game I learned from a small band of dwarves in the Outlands.  It's a silly one, and it requires facial hair, but the basic idea has to do with brawling, and the pulling of said facial hair.  I won't go into the details, but I do know one unfortunate dwarf ended up with half a beard left the day after once.

Well, time to get back downstairs.  I can hear the first round of drinks coming out.

My mustache hurts.

Today's entry will be short, as I have a horde patrol to kill off.  I'll visit home tomorrow, probably.  I can hear Lyran shouting that it is time to mount up.  We are off to defend our ancestral lands, as we have for thousands of years before.

Father would have been proud.

The patrol with Lyran's squad was oddly peaceful.  We came across a few wayward Orcs.  They never even heard us coming, and the world is a better place for it.  When we got back during the evening, we spent time at the inn, enjoying some food and drink while we caught up.  Apparently Lyran got into a wrestling match with a passing dwarf a few weeks ago (odd enough to see one here, I know).  No one told him that their height is deceiving to say the least.  The little bastard pinned him in a few minutes flat!  The other Sentinels won't let him hear the end of it, and I won't forget it either.  

I always liked the Dwarves, ever since spending some time in Ironforge those years ago.  They're more interesting than humans, for sure.  

It's time to leave and head back across the sea.  There's likely business to attend to with the Servitors, and I've taken enough personal time.  I have a bit for one more stop before I head back, though.

The place that used to be home, centuries ago, is overgrown with wildlife now.  It allows me some peace to see the forest that gave my family so much life has reclaimed the spot.  It almost seems like repayment.  I always stop here, to make sure the land is in good shape, the plants, trees, and animals at peace.  They would have loved the way it looks after all this time, all three of them.  They would have wanted their memorials placed here, but with the Horde incursions, I couldn't bear putting them in the path of destruction.

I pay my respects every time I pass through Darnassus.  I will be traveling back to Aerie Peak, a relatively long journey, starting tomorrow.  It likely won't be eventful, so my journal may be sparse for a few days.  I never particularly liked boats, it could be a rough time.

The only time I ever think that the strongest Dwarven Stout is the easier choice for my health is when I'm on a boat.

I arrived back at the Peak yesterday, and had the opportunity to meet many of the swordbretheren.  My first combat mission is coming in the future, but from what I can tell, I made the right choice deciding to join a team.  This one seems a strong operation, and they seem to enjoy a certain degree of autonomy and trust from High Command.  That freedom makes things easier on everyone, so long as it is used wisely.  I have heard others speak highly of the Servitors as well, and I very much look forward to working with them.  I've met two other Kaldorei among their ranks: one my elder, called Kaavia Driftmark.  Serious describes her well.  Particularly, the kind that makes one effective in the field.  She is the "Protocol Officer".  I observed as she and an odd human, named Horatio, discussed torture and education of it.  I am given to understand that Horatio provides the Servitors with this education sometimes.

The other, much closer to my age, is an Advisor.  He is called Etharion Longsight.  He seems much more at ease, I will have to speak with him further.  It is good to see more of my people, working so far from home for the good of the Alliance.

The Servitors are also home to a rather large population of gnomes...perhaps I should watch my step carefully around the keep.

I spoke at length with Advisor Longsight today, it was very pleasant.  He has much to say, and has endured much in his life, while also being slightly younger than I.  He is from the same region as well, and we know some of the same people.  Or at least, we did once.  It was good to talk about the problems facing the Kaldorei in modern times, as well as what the Scourge and the Battle for Hyjal has cost us.  He is very easy to talk to.  We even discussed past loves, including Riande.  I confessed that I fear seeking her out to talk, that I fear having lost what I believe to be my first love.  He suggested I consider writing. 

Maybe.

 He's the first Servitor I'll call a friend.  He won't be the last, I am sure. 

((Later entry, same day.))

I couldn't write of it earlier, and I never will at length.  I took part in Horatio's interrogation lesson a couple of days ago.  While I see the intended purpose of the exercise, I believe it to be ultimately ineffective.  The only thing I know is that nothing has felt like dying like it did.

Somehow, my only interactions with Kaavia Driftmark thus far have centered on torture.  Odd.

Yesterday, Advisor Longsight led a combat mission, my first as a Servitor, into Stratholme after a tome of temporal power.  We took a small team in, and destroyed many Forsaken along the way.  The mission was very effectively run, and we sustained no injuries (though there is a new ding in my shield, I will have to take it to the Forge back at the keep).  We found some troubling things, however.  I came across a short-range communicator similar, in a rudimentary way, to the ones we use.  Once inside, we destroyed more undead (always a pleasure).  At the end, we found a demon being summoned.  It was destroyed without incident, but its existence is not a good sign.  Worse yet was the letter found on one of the summoners bearing the Banshee Queen's seal.

We then recovered the tome and headed back to the Keep.  The Commander received my report right away in person.  It was my first one-on-one interaction with her, and it was quick and concise.  Effective traits for a unit leader.  I am told of a tradition here called Questions, where Applicants may ask anything of the Commander with impunity.  Once this meeting is scheduled, I will have to ponder what I will ask.

Not long ago, I took part in a triage training session with Adjutant Windblade.  Turns out all those battlefield medicine lessons I got from Mother when I was young we more useful yet than I thought.  Though my knowledge was informal (this lesson fixed that), my experience lessened the curve.  After, she inquired as to how I was settling into the Servitors.  They are well organized, and effectively operated.  Everyone is very friendly, and I have gotten along well with all of them.  Well, to my knowledge.

One of the gnomes does have questionable views on the Cenarion Circle, though she writes some...interesting novels.  Another yet may be the cheeriest person I have ever known or met.  She is very pleasant.

My nature is much quieter than many of them, which I hope does not appear as indifference.  It is a misunderstanding that seems to happen to me often.

((What follows appears to be multiple attempts at the first draft of a letter.  None make it past the greeting.))

Riande,

My good friend Riande,

My dearest Riande,

To Riande Greenwave, care of the Cenarion Circle

I scrapped my letter.  I can't even finish the first line.  Maybe centuries of Riande and my past will have to be enough for me.  Forever.  I doubt she has thought of me anyway since I saw her last.

Questions with the Commander has been scheduled for tomorrow.  This requires careful consideration.

I got all out of questions that I wished.  I inquired after military experience, hobbies, the past of the Servitors, and her rise to leadership.  Despite lacking formal military history, she is obviously skilled at what she does, as well as understanding the workings of the organization and what it is that must be done so the Servitors remain effective.  Or, as has been the case under her control, more effective.

Her rise to head of Academe was the most interesting.  I'm told it got ugly, and from what I can tell...it had to.  It is good to know that our leader is willing to do whatever is necessary.  I kept away from personal questions, which may not be the way most treat this opportunity.  To me, the point of the exercise is to trust the Commander.  For that, all I have to seek are questions of motivation, experience, and decisiveness of action.  All of which are evident.  I believe the Servitors are in excellent hands.

Anything else that could have been learned by Questions, and the rules simply stating that all must be answered...well that could be learned simply by fighting together.  Perhaps becoming friends.  That is the natural way to come by that knowledge.  For now, I know all I need to.

One more thing isn't lost on me, either: the Commander is clever enough to know that she can learn more about us Applicants from our questions than we might learn from her answers.  We ask more personal questions, we reveal more than we know.  Just another reason to keep mine simple.  It's an impressive tactic.  I wonder just how much more I gave up than learned. 

((The writing is shaky and nervous.))

The nightmares came back last night.  After weeks of peace...all I saw when I closed my eyes last night was fire.  Fire and water.  Buildings burning and flooding all at once.  Innocents smoldering and washing away.  But mostly...I just saw her.  I see her at the inn at Auberdine, waiting.  Talking to her friends, wearing the same easy smile she had since we were children.  Telling them about joining the Sisters, or her time as a healer back home.  Talking about getting to see her brother for the first time in months, and how she's staying a few extra days because he's running late. Then, the water gets agitated.  The ground shakes.  The beating of wings echoes in the distance.  The air warms, and the sea washes over the dock.  Trees bend in the wind.  Leaves fly about, their edges blackening.  She turns around quickly.  Then, fire and water.

Just before she disappears, she calls out.  But with the voice of the past.  The same one that always sought to answer Mother's questions in our lessons before I could.  The same one that so enjoyed making jokes during my sparring sessions with Father.  The same one that didn't have anything to say when I had to tell her they were weren't coming home, all those years ago.

Before I can answer, everything is gone.  The town in ruin.  The World-Breaker gone.  She is gone.  

I was supposed to protect her.

Today was my second interview with the Servitors, to determine whether or not I would receive my tabard.  After a clever little maneuver at the end (They had me worried for a second), I was told I will officially become an Initiate at the next Meeting in in about two weeks.  Hopefully, this is just the beginning.  My time here has been good, and I am glad I get to remain a part of this outfit.  It has been good to be a part of something, to not be alone.  We do good work, and it will be good for me to grow through my missions and through my comrades.