Rage

Words cannot describe the anger I am feeling. But I do not like it.

Pipiltin is dead, murdered by the Kor'kron. Others in my family have been attacked by Garrosh's armies, I have heard, and the rumors of other innocents falling victim to them is also true. Gren'mazi has closed his shop in Bloodhoof Village, for fear of his safety, and Rhezzaka's. Urukha has declared war upon the Kor'kron... she is not well. I watched her break just the other night, laughing and crying without control. When asked what I might do to help, she had told me just this:

"Kill. Kill them all."

I believe that the spirits wish to fuel my rage further... I was brought to Camp Taurajo by a shaman I met in Thunder Bluff just last night. My birth tribe had come to this post in the past to trade, in times when we could not support ourselves. It was a peaceful rest, from what I had remembered... but now it is in ruin. I was told that Alliance forces laid waste to the camp after the Shattering happened... I do not know why. It was only a trading post. I lost control of myself, and loosed my rage upon some humans patrolling the ruins. How dare they tread that ground.

I do not know if it is right, but I no longer feel it matters if it is not: those that are harming the innocent must know the pain they leave. I have spoke to Maengun on these matters... and she is willing to help any way she can. I have told her to stay away from Orgrimmar unless it is absolutely necessary, and that she may do as she wishes with any Kor'kron soldier she finds. To know she will help me calms me, even if only a little...

Today, I leave my shield here, and wield the sword left for my by Theran. If I am to show the honorless the pain they have caused to the innocent, a shield will only serve to get in my way.

Until ash.

A Night at the Faire

On Sunday, I sent an invitation to Maengun to accompany me to the Darkmoon Faire tonight. I was pleased to see her when she arrived to Thunder Bluff to meet me. As I had expected, she had not been to the Faire before. I explained to her what to expect, and gave to her 10 gold coins as a gift so she may freely enjoy the Faire, and all of its games and food. She told me she was willing to accept this gift just this once... she does not like to be given coin without doing proper work.

The evening was good, and Maengun seemed to enjoy herself. She seemed to understand and enjoy Whack-A-Gnoll the most of all the games. She employed a strategy I had not seen before on the ring toss game, by throwing all of her rings at the turtle at once. It was... surprisingly effective, actually. I found humor in this, as I had been patiently throwing my rings, and had to spend two tokens in order to claim victory. Hers was won in mere seconds, and one token. She had also seemed to find amusement in the new "Merry-Go-Round," though by walking against the direction the platform turned, rather than simply riding upon it as I had. Perhaps it is better... I became very dizzy.

I had noticed that she still seemed tense, as we walked the grounds of the Faire. She was still searching. At first, I believed that she was simply taking in her surroundings, but I saw that her eyes were focused most on the other people. I had hoped that Maengun would use this night to forget about the things that troubled her... but perhaps that is too much to ask of her, now. I cannot understand her plight; I had not lost my parents until I came of age, and she had no mother from birth, and willingly (albeit regrettably) shunned her father in her youth.

At the end of the night, I showed her the portal that would return us to Thunder Bluff. I thanked her for accompanying me, as the Faire is much more enjoyable when shared with a friend. She thanked me in turn, for inviting her, then fell silent, staring at me. I wondered, briefly, what was on her mind... then she made her thoughts known before I could ask: she jumped forward, and hugged me. Before I could understand fully what was happening, she ran for the portal and jumped into it.

I do not know what I am feeling, right now... I just know that all of my emotions are good. I am still surprised, as I had not expected a hug from Maengun. But I am overjoyed to know that she has accepted my friendship. Perhaps now, she will find it easier to approach others in the tribe.

A Festive Ball

Upon my return, I found an invitation to a gathering, from Westlynn. I learned from Urukha that she is no longer our Regent, and had left to pursue other interests. She is still family to me, and I was happy to receive this letter. Unfortunately, the Regent Westlynn could not come to this gathering; I would learn later from Annjia that Westlynn's blood sister was ill.

The gathering was pleasant despite this, and that almost everyone at this "Festi-ball" was elven. I spent much of the night trading stories with a taunka bull of the Argent Crusade, and trying to learn more about the Warchief and Pandaria through discussion with a troll, who appeared to have been a friend of the taunka. I had tried new foods last night; I believe the feast offered to us was food prepared in Pandaren ways. It was tasty, and unlike anything I have had before. As the night came to a close, we were asked to prepare Winter Veil stories, and there was an exchange of gifts. It was clear that the gathering did not expect larger guests, such as myself or the taunka. I was unable to pour a cup of tea for myself, as the cup was much to small and it slipped from my fingers. During the gift exchange, I was given a robe meant for an elf. Fortunately, the troll would give me a flask to pour the tea into, and one of the other guests offered to trade to me her silkworm in exchange for the robes.

The taunka had asked me at one time, if the feast of Winter Veil was a celebration rooted in my culture. I had told him that he was correct. The feast is held each year to welcome the coming of life anew. The lands sleep under a blanket of snow and ice, and in this time we are able to consider and give thanks for what we have gained, lost, or still hold dear. He then joked that, if his people knew of this holiday, perhaps every day would be a celebration of Winter Veil.

Honoring the Flames

Yesterday evening I spent much time in Orgrimmar, listening to the Midsummer tale weaver's stories of Midsummers past. His tales gave to me a better understanding of this celebration, and inspired me to honor the flames this year. I was also moved to snuff the bonfires lit by those deemed enemy of the Horde, upon hearing tales of atrocities committed by them during this festival.

I returned to the Ravine to gather my armor and prepare, asking one of the Wind Riders in the service of the tribe if it would not mind helping me in this task. While reluctant due to my weight, he agreed to help me in this task, and we set out for Orgrimmar. I called out to the tribe on my talisman to share my intentions, and Nystia, Caelyssa, Siuliaruin, and an initiate I had not met before, named Alexir, responded to my call. We gathered at the zeppelin tower and began to plan our route through the Eastern Kingdoms, beginning in Strangled Thorns Vale and travelling north.

Our travels were safe until we reached Goldshire, where we were ambushed by a group intent on protecting their bonfire. I attempted to fend off the attackers to the best of my ability, but we were overwhelmed. I am not sure of what happened to the others, but for a time I was knocked unconscious and left for dead. I came to my senses near Siuliaruin, and the others eventually found us. My head ached, but I thought little of it and pressed on... this would come back to me later in dwarven land. I became dizzy and unable to stand. Nystia offered to take me home, and Siuliaruin created a portal to Thunder Bluff for me.

I slept at an inn in Thunder Bluff on Pipiltin's recommendation, and awoke with no ails. I pray that the others are safe and in good health, and wonder if they had decided to press on without me. I believe I am feeling well enough to continue our quest tomorrow night, but I must prepare. I will tell the tribe of this tonight at our circle.

Midsummer Celebration

Last night the Burning Tusks gathered to celebrate midsummer, the time of the year when An'she's light has reached the height of its power, and when his light begins to yield to Mu'sha's. It is as much a time of celebration as it is a time of mourning, and like Noblegarden it is a celebration of life.

Siuliaruin hosted the tribe's celebration, and required that we wear as little as possible, or no clothing at all. We were brought to a forest with a lake and "faerie dragons", a type of creature I had never seen before. We were all given a circlet made from the leaves and sticks of the trees around us, and then we were brought to the lake. Siuliaruin told us to consider our bad memories, and to let the water take them away in its ebb and flow.

I thought of everything that had happened to me and Ferak over the past weeks... the nightmares, the whispers, the ritual... and fell into the lake. The water was refreshing, and I felt as if the weight of these painful memories was indeed cleansed from my heart. The others seemed to have felt the same way. I saw Ura and Pipiltin chasing one another playfully. Gren'mazi gave the tribe an interesting show of fire on the water's surface. Even Mukwa attempted to enjoy the swimming despite feeling tired, and later I would see that his spirits had been lifted greatly.

We bore witness to a rare and beautiful sight on returning to the forest: the faerie dragons had decided to bless our celebration. They gathered around the ring of mushrooms we had intended to enter and bathed it in a glowing light of many colors. I was struck with awe at this sight, and Siuliaruin noted that to see such a thing was very rare. We proceeded then to light a bonfire, feast, and dance. There were stories to be told, unfortunately I was too tired to join them to listen, or share. I excused myself and thanked Siuliaruin for bringing us to this place before dressing myself and returning home.

As the seasons change and An'she's light begins to dim again, I am reminded of the passing of time, of the families I have been a part of since I left my birth tribe, and of those I speak with or fight alongside. Faces, spirits, and the desires of those I know have and always will change, but one thing is absolute: I will do all I can to protect and aid those I know and love.

Until ash.

As It Was... Almost

It feels like it has been too long since I have been able to sit by the tree in Orgrimmar and relax. Last night I did just this, and encountered Za sitting among some friends. He came over to me and dropped a bag of smoking herbs into my lap, which I took gratefully and with thanks. We began to discuss recent events, but then the interruptions began... I believe Za called it "happy hour," and likened it to the tide of the ocean rolling out and leaving refuse behind on the sand when it was once clean. In retrospect, I understand this comparison now.

Our topic was lost, so I had decided to smoke some of the herbs in my pipe while I waited for this happy hour to end. I realized I had no fire to burn the herbs with, and asked if anyone could do this. A goblin behind me offered me a box of matches, though they were much too small for me to use. He lit the pipe for me and I thanked him. He seemed a nice fellow, despite feeling the need to attach a device to his bow that would launch small animals... I do not understand to this day why goblins feel the need to disrespect the Earth Mother and her creatures.

Pipiltin arrived not much later, after I started to feel the calming effects of my herbs. She had been away from us to tend to some work to please her Loa. We briefly discussed what had happened since I had seen her last, and what the tribe planned to do in the coming days. Meanwhile, Pipiltin gave Za one of her popcorn balls, the ones she made with a secret mix of herbs. The herbs had a fast and quite noticeable effect on Za, as he began to insist the goblin's companion animal was able to talk and fetch drinks. To my surprise, the latter proved to be true, and the animal returned to him with a cup of frog venom brew, and slice of a lemon.

In the midst of this, Urukha came to us, though she did not have much to speak of, and fell asleep on her mate's lap not long after her arrival. I had spoken with her earlier in the evening; her voice over the talisman lacked emotion and she seemed troubled. Having not seen her in the days since the incident at Storm Peaks, I had hoped that having her see me in good health would lift her spirits. Unfortunately, it would seem that it only irritated her. I asked if there was something I could do to help her with, but she asserted that there was nothing I could do. I wonder what is troubling her?

To Silvermoon

Arcane magic has long baffled me. When I was a calf, I was taught that one so inclined to could wield the elements by speaking to them and being unselfish in doing so. However, there are many who force the elements' shapes to their will... this is called arcane magic. I have heard many stories of those who practice arcane magic becoming tainted by the unnatural forces they wield, and I am able to detect this. The arcane leaves a scent on one's soul, a very pungent stench, and the longer one exposes themselves to it, the stronger this scent becomes. Many others, shu'halo and non-shu'halo alike, have noted that my sensitivity to the scent is unique... it can overpower my senses, and oftentimes I must sneeze to cleanse them of it, even if it is temporary.

I understand that elven culture is based on the arcane. This is especially evident in the elves of the Eastern Kingdoms, though I had been unaware of just how much. Yesterday, I had been riding around the Ravine on a raptor I had trained with the help of Zon'Krul earlier in the evening, listening in to a conversation over the talisman between Aevelina and Gren'mazi, about tattoos. I encountered Aevelina not much later, and she, with Caelyssa, invited me to accompany them to Silvermoon City. I had been long curious about what the elven homeland was like, and accepted their invitation.

The two of them had found their way to the city before I could, and Caelyssa used the summoning power of the talisman to bring me there. The city was very beautiful... but a different kind of beautiful than one would feel while wandering the plains. Caelyssa understood how I felt, telling me that she was also overwhelmed at how Thunder Bluff looked when she had first found it. However, my ability to admire my surroundings was cut short, as the stench of the arcane began to make itself known to me. It came from all around; I saw many objects floating above the ground as we wandered the roads of the city, looking for a tattoo artist. The whole time I had sneezed repeatedly... once on Caelyssa.

I felt foolish, and a burden, for letting my curiosity of the world get the better of me. Caelyssa assured me I was not burdening them, and the decision to leave was only because there was nobody in the city that could draw a tattoo. She suggested that I should perhaps visit Silvermoon periodically, to build a resistance to the scent. I think that it may be a good idea, should I need to go there in the future for another reason.

To Hearthglen

Yesterday I encountered Nemeiah again in Orgrimmar... she had come to the city to retrieve a package she sent for. Our discussion three days ago was still on my mind, so I asked her if I could know where Tyr's Hand was, to travel there on my own and perhaps find some answers to my questions. To my surprise, she offered to bring me to a place called Hearthglen, a place the Argent Crusade call their home, telling me that if I wished to learn about "the Light," it was a better place to do so than Tyr's Hand.

After retrieving her package, we boarded a zeppelin to Tirisfal Glades, what I understand is now the home of the undead that call themselves Forsaken... a heavy air hung over the land, one that filled me with sorrow. This would change, thankfully, as we moved towards the Plaguelands. As we approached the healing land, the air became lighter, and An'she cast his light upon us effortlessly. The rest of our walk was pleasant.

When we arrived in Hearthglen, I saw a number of interesting things. Most importantly, we came upon a statue of the Highlord of the Argent Crusade, and learned that he holds a weapon that could kill the undead just by being close... this included Nemeiah. I was alarmed, for I heard that she was able to commune with this "Light," yet it could still harm her. I asked her what "the Light" was, why it would do this to her, and it is then that she suggested that we sit and talk about it.

We entered what she called the "town hall," and there she explained to me that "the Light" is everywhere. Anyone may open themselves up to it or turn it away by following or defying three virtues: Respect, Tenacity, and Compassion. I became conflicted, and wondered again if the things I have been taught were false. Nemeiah told me then that I should not forsake tradition, and she suggested that the Earth Mother and "the Light" are "seperate, but unified."

I realized that doing what I can to aid the Earth Mother has also made others around me happy. I shall continue to do what I have been doing, for it is right... even this "Light" believes so.

Noblegarden

I enjoy Noblegarden. It is a fairly new holiday to me, apparently of Human origin, but it is a celebration of life. I first learned of it during the second year away from my tribe, before I had found the Stonecalves. I was supporting the Horde's efforts in Ashenvale, and an orc had explained to me that the humans of high status would leave gifts within decorated eggs for all to find within their gardens, as a way of putting aside their differences. I do not quite understand it, but I sympathized with the idea that life should be celebrated, especially with the coming of Spring.

Yesterday I had visited Bloodhoof Village on my way to Red Rocks, and eggs had been hidden all about, with members of all welcome races searching high and low for them. I became distracted by this, and joined in the hunt. My search was fruitful, as I was rewarded with clothing that spoke of the holiday.

The Burning Tusks have planned activities and meetings for the holiday, undoubtedly to boost morale and distract the ill from their sickness. I am looking forward to this.