[N-RP] Evermore Entries

[Ellinor-the-shatar]

‘I am going to kill Chromie!’ Ellinor scribbled into her journal angrily. ‘I will kill her and make boots out of her hide! Conjuror Quirksilver won’t be able to stop me!’

Not that Conjuror Quirksilver could stop her considering Ellinor was no longer in the same timeline as her mentor, oh no, after a run-in-with Chromie, Ellinor had been booted back several years without so much as a warning.

Conjuror Quirksilver had always said her desire to recreate Felo’melorn would get Ellinor into trouble, but she doubted the other gnome thought this would happen.

‘I’m back during the whole Deathwing thing! I was still living with my parents when everyone else was dealing with this mess!’ Ellinor grumbled mentally as she wrote, knowing she wouldn’t be able to go home to Ironforge without possible creating a paradox.

Ellinor glared, doing her best not to attract attention of any of the dwarves around her and keeping her hood up to hide her flaming red hair–she didn’t need anyone recognising her as she was too close to Ironforge for her liking.

She paused as a sudden thought seemed to strike her.

I could find the Falo’melorn myself, and study it to properly remake it, she realised with a hint of glee.

‘On second thought, if all goes well, I may not have to kill a dragon,’ Ellinor wrote, a grin on her face as she also realised she didn’t have Conjuror Quirksilver just moments away ruining Ellinor’s attempts to take her fire-magic to a whole new level.

A quiet meow broke her from her thoughts and she grinned at the cat-shaped fire elemental hiding under the table.

“We’re going to have so much fun, Cinder!” she exclaimed quietly with a hint of cackle to her voice.

The cat looked dubious under its helmut as it stared up at her mistress with glowing white-gold eyes.

[Ayasha-the-shatar]

‘I have made a grave mistake.’ Ayasha stared down at her page as her only witness. ‘Soon, Kimble may find himself with a very eager student. I should probably inform Keeper Sunrose of this, and Keeper Ironglow, and the Champion.’

Ayasha paused as she remembered the bright eyes of the young orc mage that had had questioned her if it was true that Kimble had come third in the Coven’s Magic Tournment and if he really beat a Mage Captain.

‘Perhaps the Champion could be convinced that this Shokrakar was not the best fit for the Hand. Or at least that someone else should teach her magic.’ Ayasha paused in her writing and closed her journal, she should probably warn the others quickly.

[Calaara-moonglade]

Calaara rummages her bag, searching for this old scorched book. When asked why she carries a burnt book, she replies with smile: “That’s my diary!”

'It is somehow remarkable, this Azeroth. Everyone looks so serious! I told them that I burned that book (along with her owner) by accident, but they still look angry! I told an old Argusian joke to this… pandaren (note to self - don’t call them bear, they don’t like it) and he just looked at me, confused! I want to fight Legion again. That was more fun.

There are several scribbles written all over the page, but they are crossed with single word standging out “boredom”.

[Ralrush-steamwheedle-cartel]

Another nutcase on guard duty last night. Some idiot waltzed up to the tower and started laughing like he was high. Wildhammer dwarf. He didn’t even resist when we arrested him, which not be normal for their clanspeople at all. We followed protocol and handed him over to the next shift when our turn was done. He looked normal except for his eyes…the blood vessels in his eyes had this orange hue to them instead of red.

He kept raving about green dust…or, all that be green will be dust, or something like that. Reminded me of that palm tree that crumbled in my hands.

[Ralrush-steamwheedle-cartel]

I woke up again last night. Good thing I be in a communal tent; Westie, that heavy human from Westfall, woke me up when I tried to leave. I was on my feet and nearly fell down when he did. Said I was talking about trees, that I was gonna crush the trees. We had a laugh about it and went back to sleep, but I kept thinking it this morning…sleep walking even once be weird for me, but twice can’t be a coincidence.

[Helstrøm-moonglade]

A dead nightjar lies sprawled on the forest floor. Scattered in its vicinity lie the burnt pieces of what used to be a letter. Several snippets that have not been fully burned give away hints of its contents.

nusual activities. It started two days of the moon ago, when two of them showed up to a lecture by Mairead. In the days after, a large host was seen in the Ledgerdemain opposite the greenhouse. A mere two days ago, several attended moonrise and yesterday they were reported i

n’dorei, but no Kaldorei were present at m

eard asking about the whereabouts of Kaldorei members and associates of the Band such as Dulvarinn, Arryl and Alunaria. Whatever the reason, I plan t

[Dulvarinn-moonglade (Dulvarinn)]

‘I have travelled to Ashenvale Forest to help the ancient Gnarl restore an area within the Nightsong Woods that is now known as Felfire Hill. The demonic corruption still lingers here, but with every new seed planted the land shall heal.’

[Haidene-moonglade]

(An entry dated a few years after the Battle for Mount Hyjal.)

‘Elune, I must confess my indignation. This may be the first time I have openly disagreed with the High Priestess. Allowing for the goblins to establish a large trading post so close to our sacred burial grounds is simply preposterous! While the so-called Steamwheedle Cartel is building machines to gaze towards the skies, I know that they are just as eager to look for the In’duna which they call ‘Thorium’. Wynd Nightchaser has also told me that the goblins now refer to the settlement as ‘Everlook’. Goddess give me strength.’

[Dulvarinn-moonglade (Dulvarinn)]

‘I remember a few years ago, when I assisted Orendil Broadleaf and Evenar Stillwhisper in the making of a cure for the sick daughter of Pelturas Whitemoon. As I visited Astranaar this night, it not only made me happy to witness young Relara Whitemoon alive and well, but also how vibrant and happy she seems in the company of her father. Few things are as precious as the bond between parent and child. She was within a hair’s breadth of losing her life. Fortunately, it was Bathran’s Hair. The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.’

[Ralrush-steamwheedle-cartel]

I walked outta town, around the desert, for the first time today. How? I’ve been stayin here for over a month now, yet I never actually felt the sand between my toes until this morning. A few of the toll-fear kids…kittens? Whatever they be called, they took my out there to explore.

One of the kittens told me that the wind was blowing east, and I was stunned; couldn’t even talk. Cause I had no idea which way the wind was blowing. The people out here, they be so close to the land that they can just hold still and know which way the wind be blowing. I’ve been living in cities and barracks and war camps for so long, I think I be disconnected from the real world.

[Linaria-steamwheedle-cartel]

Sharon’s journal gains another page. A single sheet of paper covered in a net of small wrinkles, as if meticulously straightened out after a long time spent carelessly stuffed in a pocket, is wedged between the pages of the battered book. The handwriting is very, very, very wobbly.

I have a FEELING that Mai wants the Dean
her face
WOW

The rest of the page is occupied by a wobbly portrait of a night elf swooning next to what looks very much like a deer in a dress.

On the other side a longer—and far more coherent—note can be found.

I had plenty of fun in Westfall. It feels good to share useful knowledge with an engaged audience, and better still to know that your words might one day save a life. Just a few plants, and yet it made me feel… useful. It’s a nice feeling.

Yet at the same time I feel so troubled and lost.

The more time I spend with the Hand, the more muddy my own beliefs become. It’s undeniable that I’m starting to like them. They are crude, brutal, prejudiced, authoritative, stubborn… But when I look at some of their interactions, what I see is a family. A dysfunctional family, but one that is obviously bound by more than just a name, a banner and common interests. They’re not a family in the same way that the Slayers are—in the Hand there’s way more tension and negative energy between certain parties—but one look at them can easily tell you that their policy of never leaving people behind is more than just empty words. How could I possibly not respect that?

Most importantly, the Hand has something the Horde on the whole seems to lack; morals. A strong sense of good and evil, and a strong urge to stand with the former and fight the latter, no matter the cost.

And that’s where things get complicated, because I still hate the Horde. I don’t think I will ever stop hating the Horde. Not after Brennadam. Not after they stood idly while the Banshee killed my people and turned them into undead slaves. Certainly not after she defiled Derek Proudmoore himself.

What I hate the most is that most of them would’ve happily continued their conquest if given a chance. What stopped them was not remorse or mercy—it was the fact that the mastermind behind the slaughter ridiculed them and abandoned them. They hate that they were used, but not HOW they were used.

Sometimes I wish the war didn’t end the way it did. If the rebels and the Alliance kept fighting, if they defeated the loyalists and killed them, then those members of the Horde who remained—like the Hand—could possibly build a lasting peace. But now? Now we’re signing peace treaties with bloodthirsty conquerors who will happily pick up their banners and axes the moment another warmonger rises to prominence.

When will the Horde finally learn? And when will the Alliance?

[Dulvarinn-moonglade (Dulvarinn)]

‘Another night of recreative reunion. Before the Moonwell of Purity, I shared a cup of moonberry juice with the delightful dryad, Shael’dryn. Of all the angry antics harshly hurled within a feral forest, I enjoy her playful paronomasia the most.’

[Cherwina-moonglade]

“My original intention was to disembark at the Zoram Strand and head east on foot to Maestra’s Post. This would have saved a significant amount of time from travelling the length of Darkshore, twice. The presence of Naga along the shoreline put pay to that however. More troubling was the presence of a fortified Horde encampment at the southern end of the bay. I will notify the Sentinels once we land at Auberdine. My journey to Moonglade is already becoming quite the chore.”

[Ralrush-steamwheedle-cartel]

That same dream again. An orange eye that never blinks. It not really be a nightmare…not exactly. That eye shows me nothing but kindness. It looks like it be happy to see me, but it feels very wrong. I can very hear whispers, but they be too weak for me to make out, like an old guy sitting too far away tryin to talk to me.

But it wasn’t me. I was in the Ramkahen bazaar, and I heard this local toll-fear telling this to a Wastewander human. They were checking out onions or something, and he was describing his dream exactly as I’ve had it a few times. Sometimes memory get mixed up, but not this time; what he said was what I dreamed too down to every last detail.

[Raylen-moonglade]

“Dear diary, I still have those nightmares about being set aflame by mistake. And that terrible laughing. Maybe I should travel alone again. A change of scenery without a joyful mage can calm me again. Perhaps I could visit my blood elven friend. Or shoot that mage…”

The last sentence is unreadable, carefully removed. A small note at the end of the page reading: " If I shoot her by accident, is it still a murder? "

[Victoriana-the-shatar]

Several bits of parchement scattered across the desk, each filled with sharp writing.

‘The Horde is in limbo, their Warchief spit on them and pissed off to who knows where and the Alliance is still watching with angry and cautious eyes as the stalemate continues. There won’t be true peace, too much hurt, too much anger.’

‘There are reports of Sylvannas in Northrend, whatever she wants there won’t be good. Will need to look in further.’

‘Mages from both Horde and Alliance are still baffled by whatever magic Sylvannas Windrunner used to escape. Not shadow, not fel, but something else? Need to keep an eye on their research, wonder if they can figure out to fight against it.’

‘Tyrande Whisperwind still stalks Darkshore with her ‘night-warriors’.’

‘Greymane must be panting at the thought he could hunt down Sylvannas, but will Anduin allow it? Or will the Worgen King break away like the Kaldorei Priestess?’

‘The Forsaken scurry around like mice, clumping together as they watch the ‘Rebels’ take control and they are watched back. Sylvannas, the leader and defender, left them and they are left a drift without her, facing all the rage she inspired in her stead.’

‘There is talk about making Calia Menthil the leader of the Forsaken. An Alliance Light-raised undead leading the Horde Forsaken faction? It’s foolish, mad really, why would they follow her? Because she is the last of her family? Because she was meant to rule? She does not understand them, can’t understand them, and she is still Alliance. Lilian Voss would make the better choice.’

‘Members of the Alliance are wary, they will not trust the Horde despite their King helping the Rebels as those that stood by Sylvannas, that refused to betray their Warchief, still walk free–if angry–and they can not forgive them. Wonder what Anduin will do to ease this?’

Slender fingers tap against the desk as sharp green eyes scans the reports.

The War had stopped–maybe paused would be a better word?–and things were still screwed up, the world was still bleeding, tension was still boiling under the surface and Sylvannas was still up to something though Sunwell knew what.

There was no rest for the wicked, Victoriana mused to herself as she pushed away from the desk.

[Dulvarinn-moonglade (Dulvarinn)]

‘Tonight I have travelled northward on behalf of Shael’dryn to meet with her sister Seraphine and Keeper Karithus. In the deep woods of Darkshore they showed me a salubrious variety of the Fuming Toadstool that grows near the Ruins of Lornesta. Intriguing!’

[Liliannei-moonglade]

’ I heard a rumor that Saurfang challenged Sylvanas to mag’gora or whatever they call it. I never expected that Sylvanas would actually get pushed over an egde by him. I’m so glad I wasn’ t part of this! They say that both sides agreed on armistrice, some say even peace. I think they will be at each other throats again soon…’

The page continues with possible places to retire in peace and solitude.

[Ralrush-steamwheedle-cartel]

My brother answered my letter. Response came in today. Kinda weird cause never had problems, but we don’t really talk. He gave me a good answer about the palm trees though. Palms be different from shrooms, but I guess farmin be farmin and he knows a bit about plants.

He agreed that the palm trees near the barracks got wood rot, but he didn’t believe me about them turning into dust. Figures - I never was any good on the farm, so he won’t listen. At least he sent me some salve to use on the trees and shrubs that still got some moisture in them. Sent me a few dried grams of my favorite fungi too, plus salted cat.

[Raylen-moonglade]

Raylen looks at one of the earliest pages in his chewed journal.

‘Darnassus is so… serene. I can imagine spending rest of my life here. And the night elves are so kind and friendly. They say it’s the least they can do since they are responsible for our…’ the sentence abrubtly ends. ‘I believe they feel genuine guilt. But they saved us from ourselves and the Forsaken. I expected they just leave us somewhere. There is a kind Kaldorei woman, she is always bringing me some food and trying to start a conversation with me. I like her. But I won’t tell her that. She might get ideas.’

Several pages contain scribbled drawings of Darnassus, Gilneas and a drawing of a man. The last page is filled with single sentence: “I was gifted with a nightsaber kitten!” followed by drawings of a nightsaber and crossed names.