07-23-2011, 03:33 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
Well, I'm 22, married, and have a passion for creative writing. The reason I play MMORPG's is because when you find yourself a good group of roleplayers it makes the game come alive. Like you have a looking glass into another dimension.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I live in Ontario Canada, and I speak english, and I try to use it exceptionally well.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My old councillor referred me to play the Closed Beta, I enjoyed it, continued on through Release, and took a break after the announcment of The Burning Crusades Release date. I returned about 6 months before Wrath dropped, kept playing on and off until 4.2.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
I loath Cataclysm patch 4.2 with the fiery passion of a thousand angry suns. I have played a Paladin since Closed Beta, and I will Always play them, I have been told by many people that I make a very good tank, So I began dabbling with Warriors as well. I have healed as a Shaman, and a Paladin; This rant has purpose; As of Patch 4.2 Tanks, are losing a crucial part of their stats, i.e. Dodge, and healers are getting "nerfed" again as well... So, as of 4.2 I quit playing Retail and searched out other servers. I looked into CotH a year ago I believe it was because its known as the best Roleplay server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy most kinds of roleplay, whether it be questing as a group in character, having some drinks in a tavern, or sitting around a bondfire fishing. I like how with a few good roleplayers you can find yourself no longer playing a game, you find yourself amidst another world entirely.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I have 2 of each:
Races: Humans; I am human, and I relate. I also like the mythology of the Human Race in fantasy adventures; A young race, with extreme potential.
My other favourite Race is Dwarves; I have always liked the unrefined personalities of Dwarves in various fantasy books, Gimli from Lord of the Rings, Flint Fireforge from Dragonlance, I like the protective Grandfather figure they portray. They seem like they are so angry and bitter, but really have a good heart.
My 2 favourite classes to play are: Paladins and Warriors. Paladins: I enjoy tanking, its my favourite group role, I also enjoy being able to solo basically anything if I'm unable to find a group.. My favourite part of the Paladin is being able to help people with various buffs, and being able to assist with group quests with ease.
My other favourite class is Warriors; Once again I love to tank, but I also like the Warrior type characters in fantasy stories; Again I refer to Dragonlance, specifically Ceremon Majere. I like being a protector, someone who looks out for others.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Roleplay immersion, a kind community, and a total lack of idiocy. I abhor the fact that you cannot set foot on most servers without the constant derogatory banter and name calling in various public channels.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
All of them, the rules of your server are the rules I instill in the guilds I ran during my time in Retail.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
A story I wrote about my Character in Retail; I would probably stick to what I already know here. It is written as a series of journal entries. I am working on a series of Novellas based off of my WoW characters, that I may submit to Blizzard, or I may change names and locations and submitt it as my own
My first attempt to post said that I was 11K words over so I will post the first Week of the journal
The Lost Templar Series
Kira’s Journal Part 1
The Rise in the Eastern Kingdoms
Day 1: Early Fall, Dusk, Camp in the heart of the Wetlands
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I was advised that keeping a journal may help in my search for clues about my Mother.
Its damp here, I set up camp by a Goblin vendor just off the road at the Three Corners in the heart of the Wetlands. The constant rain and sloshing of water here is making it rather difficult to sleep. I just wish that was the real reason I’m awake. I can’t stop thinking of what I’ve seen, where I’ve been, and the unimaginable things that I’ve done.
The depths of The Deadmines, the criminals in the Stormwind Stockades, the horrible abominations in Blackfathom Deeps; Horrors of sorcery witnessed in Shadowfang keep, the crazed fanatics of the Scarlet Crusade, and their religious zealots in the Monastery. These memories plague me, in sickening embrace; it seems so long ago I had naivety, and innocence, playing in the fields of Elwynn Forest as a child in a time where parents spent time with their children.
Before the Draenei's Exodar had landed, and before the dreaded Lich King enacted his onslaught upon the kind people of Azeroth.
My name is Kira Tirianna Valore, Daughter of the great Paladin protector Tirianna Valore. This is my story, my journal of my adventures. How I came to be, the peril's I've faced, and the knowledge I've gained. I suppose it's easiest to start at the beginning.
My Childhood:
I remember swimming in the Amberstill Lake just north of the Eastvale logging camp where I was raised. That was before the Murlocs, before the world started falling apart, before the tranquil animals turned vengeful and wary. The way I remember it, everything started with the Murlocs. Murlocs: slimy and smelly foul little beasts, vicious, and bloodthirsty. They crawled up to the shore, standing the same height as I when I was just a child. I remember my first encounter with them well, I was swimming in the Amberstill Lake, when I felt something slimy graze my feet, a sensation I had grown accustom to, it was very common with the seaweed on the lakebed. I felt it a second time, the difference was, this time it wrapped around my foot and began pulling me under.
That was the first time I found out about my mother’s strength and force. She’d heard my screams from the house, the panicked shrieks of her child drowning. She must have jumped out the window onto her horses back and road Tristran up to the shore. I remember the water being so cold at the bottom of the lake. It was dark, with strange shapes circling around me. Something grabbed my collar, and hauled me out of the water. My mother tossed me on the shore as if I were a rag doll.
I laid there sobbing, cold, and soaked to the bone, but I remember looking upon her in fear as dozens of the fish people ran up out of the water and swarmed around her. There was a flash of golden light that emanated as a ring around her, as if it exploded from her waist. The ground beneath her and the Murlocs’ feet began to glow ominously. The disgusting creatures looked at the glow with a perplexed look as a massive golden pillar exploded through the air in a blinding flash. The force pierced through the ground like a massive spider’s web. Then, upon the disc of golden grass, lay the bodies of the Murlocs’.
That day, my mother didn’t say much to me. She helped me dry off, and placed me at the fire with a drink of honey-mint tea. That was the sweetest memory I have to remember her by, we just sat by the fire, drinking our tea, and enjoying the time we had together.
At the age of 10, my mother left. She was called upon by King Wyverinn to defend the people of the world against Arthas. She left me in the care of the kind souls at the Northshire Abbey just to the East of Stormwind. The monks there looked after me, taught me how to survive by teaching me how to fish, hunt, and cook. They instructed me to defend myself with various weapons: Swords, Maces, Spears, and my bare hands; so that one day I’d be able to assist those in need. The blood of a warrior flows through my veins and the Monks knew it.
Thankfully; Blessed by the Gods my mother was. When she was claimed from this world, I swore a blood oath to find her, and provide rescue if it was necessary. No one knows where the great Tirianna Valore went; she just disappeared from the face of Azeroth. Some say she was taken to a different realm, a different world, to defend the people in need. I know I’m not the only one searching for her. She meant so much to many of this world’s residents.
The Beginning:
When I wasn’t studying the Holy Arts under Brother Sammuel, Marshall McBride kept me busy. The first of my tasks I thought was a horrible one.
The wolves in Northshire Abbey had become plague ridden with some unknown disease. They were spreading the illness and McBride sent me to Eagan Peltskinner to make sure that the plague was stopped before it became a pandemic. Eagan was kind enough to provide me with some crafted wolf skin bracers for completing his task in the Valley.
After dealing with the diseased wolves, I heard word that the local mine had become over-run with Kobolds, so I spoke with Marshall McBride about it, who confirmed the grim news
Kobolds, short and squat rat people, somewhat humanoid, but with a foul odor, had claimed the North Western part of the Northshire Valley, moving themselves into the Echo Ridge Mine and claiming it as their own.
With Stormwinds great army defending the Continent of Northrend against the Lich King, they hired out the tasks to Mercenaries, Thieves and Assassins, Wizards, Warlocks and those training in the Holy arts.
I had to venture deep into the mine for McBride. He needed me to see just how much damage these ugly bastards had caused. It was dank, and not very well lit; I guessed that these things could see in the dark. The news I had to report to Marshall McBride was not the best in nature. The Kobolds had taken over the entire mine.
After the weak and ill-fated Kobolds took a foothold, word spread that the Valley was weak, and the rogues of the Defias Brotherhood claimed the Vineyard to the east of the Abbey, just across the river.
The lush rows of grapes formerly owned by Milly Osworth had been infested with Garrick Padfoot’s clan of thieves.
Milly Osworth, a kind and honest lady, a natural pacifist with short black hair and deep emerald eyes, wore lavender and blue clothing, perfect for the fields, had requested me to go into the vineyard and collect a few buckets of grapes. I had to fight for every ounce of the delicious little fruits against the Defias in the vineyard, who believed it was now their personal stash. Which lead me to Garrick Padfoot.
Garrick Padfoot, foot soldier to Edward VanClef, was a challenging foe, he and his small army were not willing to just let go of their claimed land as easily as I had hoped. It took me a while, but I successfully collected his head.
A short while after defeating Garrick, I left the Valley, and headed to Goldshire. Strange news reached me during my time in Goldshire, I heard word that Garrick was still forcing his tyranny on the Valley, I later found out that the Defias had employed powerful wizards, and just a few days after I had successfully dealt with him, he had been restored and resurrected.
Before I left the Valley, the people there were kind enough to give me what spare coin they had or second hand equipment for my troubles in dealing with the problems around the Abbey, to help me start my journey in search of my mother. I travelled to Goldshire and found work for the townsfolk, dealing with more Kobolds. It seems as if after my mother left, the beautiful and lush Elwynn forest had become a festering pool for all things retched.
My First Real Task:
I wandered for days around Elwynn Forest; I re-visited the house in which I spent my early childhood in at the Eastvale Logging camp. I miss the sweet smell of the sap trees, feeling the grass under my feet, and not having to worry about some beast or monster jumping out at me.
I found a Wanted poster on the edge of Elwynn and Westfall just west of the bridge, to bring back the paw of a horrid Gnoll nicknamed "Hogger". He was powerful, exceptionally strong, and wielded a fierce weapon. He brought me great trouble which forced me to enlist the assistance of locals to bring him to his fall. I was rewarded handsomely for completing this bounty.
It saddens me that that was the last time I would see Elwynn for some time, because my Journey was leading me to Westfall and beyond its dry climate.
After fighting the dozens of wretched Gnolls under “Hogger’s” command, I finally faced the beast. With grave wounds, yet triumphant, I returned to Goldshire and received my reward and bounty for the charge.
The Defias Brotherhood:
Thanks to a pair of magically imbued chainmail leggings, given to me for defeating "Hogger", my time in Westfall went far more smoothly than I had first anticipated. Upon entering Westfall, just off the road was a couple of elderly farmers who requested my assistance, retrieving oats for their aged horse Blanchy, as well as the farmers pocket watch which he was forced to leave behind after the Defias ransacked his homestead. I retrieved his watch, and upon returning it he advised me to speak to a soldier in Sentinel Hill, Garyn Stoutmantle, he was the Head of the Westbrook Garrison in Westfall.
I walked south, past parched fields and abandoned farmsteads, avoiding ravenous birds, and the disoriented Harvest Watcher automatons, which can no longer distinguish between friend and foe. When I reached Sentinel Hill, I decided to get some rest in the inn before speaking with Garyn.
Hearing of my deeds in the local farmsteads, Stoutmantle entrusted me with a task to thin the number of the Defias Brotherhood encroaching upon Sentinel Hill.
My task was simple, yet complicated, he ordered me to bring proof that I had slain the thieves by collecting their Red Leather Bandanas. However, these particular bandana's were not warn by many; I suppose it is an item given to either those who prove themselves exceptional, or those who have obtained a high enough rank within their Clan.
The fall of Moonbrook:
The town of Moonbrook, once a peaceful mining village had been over-run with the Defias enclave. Edward VanClef had claimed The Deadmines as his personal Lair. The Defias Looters and Pillagers had infested every area of the Town. The only place of sanctity to be found was in the Moonbrook schoolhouse, strange that they would avoid it.
Some of the Defias had taken to looting what was left of the desecrated town, while others, heavily trained and powerful Mages, had taken to protecting the village and defending its borders, as well as the entrance to VanClef's hide-away.
Hours seemed to have passed, the mindless fools throwing themselves at me, what a waste of what could have been fine soldiers to The Alliance. I no longer had the battered and worn war hammer that was given to me at the Abbey, for I had replaced it with a razor sharp sword coupled with a well-made shield. My worn, chipped and splintered chain mail armor had been replaced by a new set. Magically imbued by the Mages of Stormwind increasing my strength, and speed; I added to the safety I found in heavy armor by rendereing the services of a Tanner to reinforce the suit with an underlying mesh of leather armor. It made me an unstoppable force to reckon with. I cut a swath through the brigands, right to the entrance of the Deadmines.
The Defias Brotherhood; Clearance.
I reported back to Garyn with the news of Moonbrook being over-run, and how I had reduced the numbers of the Defias ravishing the town. He sent me to the fishing town of Lakeshire in the Redridge Mountains, as well as the Night-Watch village of Darkshire in Duskwood, to seek reinforcements to Assassinate VanClef.
Into The Deadmines:
After flying around to Darkshire and Lakeshire, the residents were not much for sending reinforcements to Garyn, they had their own troubles, far worse than the Defias it seemed. The fishers in Lakeshire had to deal with Orcs and Gnolls, Gnolls that put “Hogger” to shame, and Orcs…well, these were Blackrock Orcs, large and powerful, they are claimed to be one of the most dangerous clans of the Free Orcs.
Darkshire had to deal with resurrected Skeletons and Ghouls, on top of the crazed wolves and giant spiders all of which were made a miniscule problem compared to the Worgen in the woods. Something bothered me about Duskwood, it seems to be engulfed in perpetual darkness, probably how it came to be named. The air is heavy, tension crackles through the wanes of the were-wolves howls. Through the shaded bows of the trees blocking the sky you can catch a glimpse of a full moon. That may not seem strange to most, but as I was flying from Redridge, I left at midday, maybe ten minutes had passed before I landed in Darkshire, so that leads me to believe that there are dark magic’s manipulating that forest.
After some time I finally found other adventurers to assist me in taking down the Head of the Defias.
We ventured deep into the Mine, past the miners who had orders to attack on sight, along with the Watchers and Mages. In the Deadmines, we came across powerful foes, I was glad to not be alone, Wizards of unspeakable power, Warlocks controlling giant ethereal demons, Goblins, oh horrible Goblins. The first exceptionally powerful enemy we faced was Rak’Zor, an Ogre VanClef had employed to defend an entrance deeper into the lair.
The more opponents we faced, the more momentum we gained, instilling fear into the weaker miners, making them flee, however with negative recompense, the overseers became more angered by our progression.
We managed to defeat Sneed, and his powerful mechanical suit he called his Shredder.
Sneed was in the Mast room, replacement drafts being made for a ship of unspeakable size. We opened the door, unfortunately not quietly. The dozen Goblins building and molding parts and pieces for the ship all turned to the newly opened door. Hand axes came flying at us as the Goblins charged. I was knocked off my feet by an axe to the chest of my armor. Thankfully my mother had taught me how to create a holy consecration on the ground, nowhere near as effective as it was when she used it on the Murlocs when I was a child, but useful all the same. It made a holy fire slowly creep up the Goblins legs, taking their energy, and bringing them to their end on my blade.
Sneed, and his dastardly creation came down from cutting a new mast.
After defeating him in his abomination, we ventured onward into the Foundry of the Deadmines. An elaborate goblin infested area that even the Dwarves would aspire to have.
Gilnid and his mechanics were some trouble to dispatch of, it burned when they threw molten metal on us and they commanded remote controlled automatons just to further our troubles.
We made it past the Foundry, and wended our way down to the doors leading into Ironclad Cove. VanClef had docked a ship there, and filled the docks and ship with an army of various warriors. Mr. Smite, the first mate to Captain Greenskin, stood at the top of the ramp onto the ship.
Cleaving through the pirates guarding the docks, we finally had made it to the end of the ramp, when Mr. Smite spotted us. A huge Tauren warrior, probably ten feet tall, half human and half bull, wielding massive weapons with a ferocious roar, charged down at us and in one swoop managed to knock us all flat on our backs. We managed to severely injure him, but using his immense size, he managed to cause mass panic among the group just by slamming his hoof down on the dock, dazing us all. He was a formidable foe, challenging to defeat, yet I hold respect for the great Tauren, he would have been a valuable ally.
We cleared the ship, slaying the Murloc chief named “Cookie” and moved on to entering battle with Captain Greenskin and his escort.
Edward VanClef, stood waiting for us in his cabin, seemingly alone. Boy, were we wrong. I charged up to him, and bashed him with my shield, upon doing so assassins appeared out of the shadows. It was a long and grueling battle, ergo many wounds were suffered, yet we remained victorious.
Day Two: Early Fall; Morning, Camp in the heart of the Wetlands.
I awoke to the face of a Goblin over me. Long ears and a squashed face peered down at me, encouraging me to wake. The marshland has played with my armor. Forcing it to rust and squeak at every movement, as well as making it brittle and ready to break, not the best thing when there are exceptionally aggressive Crocolisk’s in the area.
So today I plan on heading to Arathi Highlands. Its North of the Three Corners, past Dun Modr, and over the Thandol Span. The Refuge Camp is located close to the Middle of the Arathi Highlands so I’m told, it is a small encampment in a gully, just outside the tunnel to the Arathi Basin, an Area the Horde and Alliance have been fighting to maintain control of for years. I’m hoping for an easy ride to Arathi, Tristrel is a fine horse, but I am hoping to acquire him some armor shortly. I feel as though I should invest in his protection. The lands we’re heading to are filled with very dangerous creatures, and he’s the only thing I have really left of my mother.
Day Two: Early Fall; Midday, Refuge Camp, Arathi Highlands
In the Refuge Camp, I managed to get Tristrel some light armor, not much, it’s rather worn and made from light steel, but it will have to do for now. I feel better knowing that he’s somewhat protected, especially with these Raptors running wild over the rolling hills of the Highlands.
After a short rest, to take the time to write this, I’m heading to Southshore in the Hillsbrad Foothills. I have heard that they are having problems dealing with the local wildlife and Murlocs, I wasn’t sold on going there, wildlife problems I don’t particularly like dealing with, however when I heard of the Murloc infestation. I can’t get there fast enough.
Day Two: Early Fall; Mid Afternoon, Thoradins Wall, Border.
I had to avoid a party of Forsaken on the road west towards Thoradins Wall. They looked exceptionally strong. Tristrel and I fled for our lives because in avoiding the Undead, we unknowngly caught the eye of one of the local raptors, were chased by the foul beast and on more than one occasion, almost had us, however it gave up after quite some distance.
Tristrel and I took this brief rest at Thoradins Wall, bordering the Arathi Highlands and the Hillsbrad Foothills. He’s a strong horse, but I’ve been pushing him a little too hard, fleeing from the raptor didn’t help his fatigue.
Day Two: Early Fall; Early Evening, Southshore Inn.
I spoke with Loremaster Dibbs, who assigned me the task of acquiring five tomes of knowledge and a leatherbound book from the North. Inside the inn I spoke with a Draenei who requested I recover a shipment of Rare Crystals from the Undead known as the Forsaken just up the road to the North East. Lieutenant Farren Orinelle requested I kill twenty of the Murlocs known as the Torn Fin’s, ten of their warriors known as the Tide Hunters, and ten of their Wizards known locally as Oracles. However, as of this present I am no where near strong enough to deal with these requests, so I spoke with the Griffon Master Darla Harris, to seek passage back to the wetlands to see if I could acquire the equipment necessary to complete the tasks in the Hillsbrad Foothills. It will be a short flight I hope, being airborne makes me nervous.
Day Two: Late Evening, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
Upon my arrival, I spoke with a few of the townsfolk who requested I bring them various items of personal importance. I wandered into the Menethil Keep to speak with Captain Stoutfist. He was an aged Dwarf, clad in dented plate armor, a sword hung loose at his side in a brown leather scabbard, his shield slung on his back.
He rendered my services to bring the Orc clan known as the Dragonmaw to a fall in the area. He needed eight Dragonmaw War Banners to break their morale. I am in need of rest, the stars are out, and the sun resting beneath the land.
Day Three: Dawn, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
I woke in the Deepwater Tavern and Inn; I draped my chain mail hubrik over my torso, and climbed into my chain leggings, and carefully placed my tabard over top of the jingling rings, slung my shield around my back, and sheathed the Thief’s Blade that I had acquired in the Deadmines. It sat snugly in its scabbard its curved blade resting on my thigh. I have comprised a list of things to do for the day, acquire four skins of the Young Crocolisk’s in the area for the drunkard, remove at least twelve of the Blue-Gill Murlocs by the coast, retrieve Sida’s bag from a rather impetuous slime as well as collect the Dragonmaw War Banners. Added to that list this morning, First Mate Fitzsimmons came to me and asked that I bring him a Flagon of Mead, and locate a person called “Greenwarden”.
I brought Fitzsimmons a flagon of mead, and he told me his tale, he was a member of the Third Fleet of Kul Tiras, and the sole survivor of a horrid wreckage off the coast. In honor of his fallen comrades that were stuck in this plane of existence, Fitzsimmons asked that I bring peace to the Cursed Sailors, and allow them to enter the everlasting sleep. An odd request tacked onto that however, he asked that I also retrieve Captain Snellig’s old Snuffbox. I have a feeling that this poor soul is seeking solace not only at the bottom of a bottle, but in any means necessary.
I’ve eaten my breakfast of Boiled Clams I had prepared last night; I sharpened my sword, and prayed for the Gods’ protection throughout my Dailey tasks.
Day Three; Mid-day, Camp outside Dragonmaw Enclave, Wetlands.
I put the sailors’ spirits to rest, their wounds caused an odd curse, transforming me into a Forsaken Undead, I felt weaker, less agile and generally less efficient in combat.
I collected the Crocolisk skins for Fitzsimmons as well, and on my way to the Dragonmaw defeated “Gobbler” and his Bluegill Murlocs. I needed to eat something, and bandage my wounds before attempting to take on the Orcs. Luckily, my strength returned while camping, I was returned to my normal, human self. I am about to destroy these Orcs, imposing themselves upon the Wetlands, I pray I live through this encounter. If not, and someone finds this journal please to try deliver it to the Southeastern house in the Eastvale Logging camp in Elwynn forest.
Day Three; Late Afternoon, Whelgars Excavation Site.
I made it through the Orcs thankfully, but I came across a leader of sorts. I defeated an Orc named Garneg, he and his cohorts were rather challenging foes. I came across Prospector Whelgar and a couple other Dwarves holed up in a cave outside an excavation site near the Orc encampment. They asked me to acquire some Dwarven runic fragments and slay some of the Local wildlife to make the area safer for them. At this point I’ve only collected six banners, and I have yet to retrieve Sida’s bag.
The Gods recently blessed me. I was engulfed in a bright golden light, and I became renewed. My wounds had been healed, my strength and vigor restored. I believe I am on the right path in finding my mother.
Day Three, Late Evening; Dun Modr, Wetlands/Arathi Border.
I decided to make camp near the Dwarven encampment just outside Dun Modr, just south of the Thandol Span to the Arathi Highlands.
The Dwarves asked me to complete a few tasks for them regarding the fall of their mountainside town of Dun Modr. The Dark Iron Dwarves had rebelled against the Dwarven alliance, and have been attacking Dwarven settlements all across the Eastern Kingdoms. Dun Modr, was a primary target, to the Dark Iron. Due to its strategic location next to the Thandol Span, the hordes of the Dark Iron Dwarves swarmed and took over the town.
These Dark Iron Dwarves I was pitted against would eat me alive in my current state. I must complete my current quests, and hopefully the Gods will favor me in golden light again, not to mention better equipment would greatly assist me as well.
It is almost time for me to rest. The sounds of rifle shots are rather lulling. The Mountaineer Dwarves have managed to confine the Dark Iron Dwarves to the gates of Dun Modr, so I should be able to have a restful and safe sleep.
Day Four; Early Dawn; Dun Modr, Wetlands/Arathi Border.
The Dwarf known as “Longbraid the Grim” woke me this morning. His light gray beard, rocky features, and harsh voice shook me awake at daybreak.
Today I ride south to The Green Belt, and speak to this “Greenwarden” before following the road West back to Menethil Harbor. I have completed most of the tasks I have been set out to do. Upon my return to Menethil, I plan on taking a Gryphon to the Dwarven capitol city of Ironforge. I have curiosities of the powers I will be able to possess in the training of the Paladinic arts.
On my travels, I do however need to slay the Raptors that Ormar Ironbraid asked me to, the area near the excavation site still is not safe.
Before I head out, I must say, I’m very glad for the company of Tristrel. He was the son of the mare Tristan, my mothers’ horse, and a fine colt he has turned out to be.
Day Four; Mid-Dawn, The Green Belt.
I spoke with the “Greenwarden”, a strange beast, almost as if a pile of vines and branches took form and began to walk and speak. It asked me to restore balance to the lands by cropping the flock of Gnolls in the area. They had become a blight upon the Wetlands, ravishing its natural resources, and unbalancing the natural equilibrium of the ecosystem.
Day Four; Mid-Day, The Green Belt.
Back at the “Greenwarden”, I cleared camp after camp of these Gnolls. I never understood their desire to destroy. What seem like half Human, half boar, the squeal when you run them through is unbearable. The “Greenwarden” has requested that I obtain nine Crude flints, as to what purpose I’m not sure. However, for some strange half spirit, half nature bound creature, he pays well, as such: I’m inclined to do what he asks. I am going to ride back to Menethil, and plan on getting the Flints on the way there. There are people at the Harbor who need to know that I have completed their requests, and hopefully I can bring peace to some of their hearts.
Day Four; Afternoon, The Green Belt.
I had acquired the flint for the “Greenwarden”, Its last task was to kill those similar to himself who had not embraced a peaceful and kind demeanor.
Still Afternoon:
Back to the “Greenwarden”, his kind were not easy to find, they blended into the environment, however they tended to stay in the marshland pools surrounded by crocolisks.
I am about to head back to Menethil Harbor, and hopefully I will have an uneventful ride there. Tristrel is getting tired; he needs a good brushing and rest. Hopefully I can find the Stable master who will tend to his needs, a thorough brushing of his chestnut hair is imperative, because the armor and humidity have caused severe matting. I could really use a drink as an added note.
Late Afternoon:
On my ride to Menethil, I decided to stop in at the Goblin’s camp in the Heart of the Wetlands. I found Kixxle dead, in front of his shop. I have a strong suspicion there are Horde in the area, he was a kind Goblin, and held no ill feelings towards anyone… That is unless you didn’t pay him.
Day Four: Evening, Flying to Ironforge.
I have informed the townsfolk in Menethil that my deeds have been completed. It’s a very sad sight that there is so much need in the world ever since Arthas came.
My mother truly was an amazing woman, if it was because of her and her allies that the world once was a much safer place, then her and her allies should be revered as Gods. Speaking of which, the Gods blessed me again, this is the reason I’m on my way to Ironforge. I plan on speaking with the Head of the Paladin’s in the Dwarven Capitol; maybe he can shed some light on what’s been happening to me, on why it seems my fate to help others.
I spoke with Brandur Ironhammer, he informed me that what is happening to me is: As I progress in proving myself in helping others, the gods are granting me extra power, so that I may complete greater tasks. He asked me how many times the God’s had rewarded my progress, and was rather shocked that it was nearing thirty times.
He trained me in new arts of my order, providing me with better spells that I can perform on a whim. Things that will help me defeat my enemies, rather than just go on instinct and the few things my mother taught me as a child. However, instinct has been serving me well thus far.
Day Four: Late Evening, Ironforge Auction house.
I heard word from an auctioneer of a pair of twin siblings who were following in my tracks. Sent by the Cenarion Enclave to follow me on my quest to discover the details behind my mothers’ disappearance, I decided to take a direct approach. I sent these siblings a letter, Informing them that the people of Menethil Harbor in the Wetlands were in dire need of assistance, and that they should travel there to pick up where I left off if they want to prove that they have no ill intentions.
I am needed in Southshore, as such, I am finishing up in the Wetlands before I head there, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the soldiers in the Arathi Highlands may need my help as well.
Day Four: Midnight, Flying to Menethil Harbor,
Ironforge became perilous while I was there, the Horde have grown restless I guess, because they were attacking the city. I finished my business as quickly as possible and flew back to the Wetlands in very short time.
Day Five: Early Morning, Menethil Keep.
Captain Stoutfist gave me an Ancient War Sword for defeating the head of the Orc’s in the Wetlands; I have also assisted many villagers in the harbor. After a brief rest, I’m flying to Southshore as I have been assigned some tasks I now feel that I am strong enough to complete.
I am not looking forward to dealing with Murlocs in the Hillsbrad Foothills, however, it seems that they exist in almost every area of the land. I wish that I could use the Ancient War Sword in combat, but as of yet, I refrain from giving up the safety of having my shield.
I’m beginning my flight to Southshore, after I have finished there I plan on wending my way back to the Arathi Highlands to clean up the hills of all those that are becoming overpopulated. My only worry is that in Hillsbrad I may not be able to assist those in need to my utmost ability.
Day Five: Mid-Afternoon, Southshore, Enroute to Ironforge.
I was still not strong enough to assist the villagers, however after returning the Draenei’s Rare crystals, the God’s shone their magical light on me once again empowering me with more strength and resolve.
I decided to head back to Ironforge to see if maybe Brandur can teach me more, to see if I can actually prove myself useful, like my mother.
I have heard many tales of her so far on my travels, a beautiful woman with snow-white hair, gleaming armor, a firm resolve vanquishing evil, and delivering people from their hatred.
Brandur taught me a little bit, some new spells and how to perform them, as well as a way to focus my Holy powers to prevent me from being interrupted during spell casting.
I realized that I have unfinished business in Darkshire, the small town in Duskwood, so I am flying there currently. It’s a rather long flight, which gives me time to add to my journal.
Strange things have been happening over the past few days, I’m being drawn to Northrend by an inexplicable force. I have so many questions I wish I could ask my mother, Why she left, Who my father was, and why I’ve had this burning itch that hasn’t gone away, it’s like time is speeding up. I turned 18 about two seasons ago, and for some reason, I just don’t feel as if I’m as old as I should feel. I’m confused at my uncanny ability to survive the utmost grueling circumstances, defeating hordes of enemies all by myself, yet I feel as if I’m a child in an adult body.
Day Five: Evening, Darkshire, Duskwood.
I have landed in Darkshire, and the townsfolk are in mass panic, there is more work then I know what to do with here. I hope that what Brandur taught me can help me save these people before they rip themselves apart.
There are werewolves in the forest. I have been tasked with slaying these Worgen, fast and powerful, however lacking defensive capabilities; I believe that a strong offense is the best Defense in this situation.
I have to fly to Westfall, and ride to the Raven Hill Cemetery, the undead have plagued that area, and it requires cleansing with extreme prejudice. I can deal with the Worgen on my ride back from the cemetery.
Day Six: Morning, Darkshire, Duskwood.
After a brief rest, I flew to Westfall, and rode to the Raven Hill Cemetery, to deal with the Fiendish ghouls and abominable skeletons; I came across a young warrior who required my assistance in the worst way. A fellow Paladin joined us, named Miss Victoria “Tori” Lee Ranson. She was a fellow believer in the Holy arts like myself. Calvarium was a strong but quick-tempered young man, who was well trained in combat, yet held little regard for the Gods and the powers that they hold.
We made our ways into the depths of the Crypts in the cemetery; legions of the undead walked, hobbled and crawled across every bare inch of the floor. Plagues and diseases festered here like mold in a damp cupboard. Many a time did I suffer a wound that became rapidly infected. Thankfully, Brandur in Ironforge had taught me how to cleanse poisons, diseases and magical effects with a short yet effective prayer.
Day Six: Mid-day, Raven Hill Cemetery, Duskwood.
Calvarium and I have slain Mor’Ladim, formerly known as Morgan Ladamire, he was a menace, and a worthy opponent. I will be rewarded with a powerful sword, however again too large to wield whilst maintaining a shield. We stopped for a brief rest before riding to Sentinel Hill in Westfall, before we fly back to Darkshire, and I retire for the day. After fighting Mor’Ladim, I am absolutely exhausted.
Day Seven: Daybreak, Scarlet Raven Tavern, Duskwood.
In the Stockades:
My dreams were plagued by memories of the slaughter within the Stormwind Stockades.
I had been invited to assist a fellowship in carrying out a task within the prison itself. It seemed as if the Defias had been making quite the trouble for the Stormwind Guard.
Bazil Thredd, and the inmates of the prison, all convicts worth being taken to the gallows, suffered a horrible fate by my own hands. We were sent to assassinate the leaders within the prison to quell the uprising, however things turned to the worst. One of our party members was a sick and twisted individual; he began, murdering everything in his sight. I knew they all deserved to die, but not by a blood crazed maniac, but by the Law.
Dextren Ward, and Targorr the Dread were all on our shopping list of murder as well as Bazil Thredd. All of them deserved to hang, but I felt that what we were doing was more of a massacre then justice. We slowly traveled down the main corridor, before facing Targorr the Dread, he was a tall and extremely strong Orc, dark grey skin, and a tassel of black hair was the only thing that drew attention away from his hateful eyes, and grotesque demeanor.
The Orc fell without a word. We were all battered and bruised, it was a brutal fight, but we were successful in the end. We made our way through the East and West wing, vanquishing the inmates and convicts that protected their leaders with their lives. .
We were rewarded for our assistance to the Stormwind Guard, but after the horror I witnessed, I decided to head up North, and spend some time with the Dwarves.
Day Seven: Early Dawn, Scarlet Raven Tavern, Duskwood.
I have received a shield from the Night Watch, in commendation for my deeds here in Duskwood. I have been referred to a Rebel camp in the Stranglethorn Vale, as such I have abandoned my tasks in Southshore and Arathi for now, I will go to this Stranglethorn Vale and assist the few rebels there.
It’s a lush jungle, however with great beauty comes great danger. The animals there are strong and powerful, a whole new meaning to “Survival of the Fittest” is brought to light.
The Twins are sleeping upstairs in the inn right now; they have no idea that I’m back in Duskwood. I’m hoping that they follow my instructions and help out in the Wetlands.
Who knows, they may be able to be more useful then I was in Southshore.. That is, if they make it that far, both are powerful in their vocation; however I’m worried that Älysia may cause problems. She’s strong, yet impetuous.
I am about to embark to the Rebel Camp in Stranglethorn Vale, Tristrel is looking forward to stretching his legs on a good run, I just hope I can keep him safe while I’m in the jungle.
Day Seven: Late morning, Rebel Camp, Stranglethorn Vale.
The people here have work for me, however they don’t think I have what it takes. They told me to talk to a Hemet Nesingwary Jr. Just a short distance from the camp; I think this is a test, because there are Tigers and Crocolisks between Hemet and I.
Nesingwary Camp, Mid-day.
These hunters request that I prove my salt against the local wildlife, a task that I regretfully accept.
Something peculiar happened on the ride through Duskwood. I had to stay off the road, there was this horrid, grotesque monster, half of its body ripped apart, chains dangling from its wrists, making its way towards Darkshire. I do hope the people there are all safe.
Nesingwary Camp, Mid-Afternoon.
I successfully slew the beasts Hemet and his pals wanted me to, all they did was assign me more, stronger ones to defeat. I plan on riding back to the Rebel Camp, to see if I have proved my worth yet.
Rebel Camp, Mid-Afternoon.
The people at the Rebel Camp have just restated what I already had a suspicion of. I have yet to prove myself, one person did ask me to deliver a message to the Wetlands as well as Arathi, so it looks as if I’m heading back to the Northern Part of the Eastern Kingdoms. It will be a long flight, so hopefully I can catch some rest on the way there.
Menethil Harbor, Late Afternoon, Wetlands.
I have just landed in the wetlands, the flight was made all the shorter due to the fact that I tied myself to the reigns of my gryphon and grabbed some shut eye.
I'm going to talk to Glorin Steelbrow about The Doomed Fleet before I head to the Arathi Highlands and see if he has any more work for me.
Deepwater Tavern, Late Afternoon, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
The Dwarf in the inn asked me to get the Lightforge Iron from the sunken ship just off the harbor docks.
I'm not a fan of swimming, especially wearing all my armor, however I will need it if I run across anything aggressive or dangerous.
Menethil Bay, Early Evening, Wetlands.
Murlocs... I hate Murlocs.. These foul beasts have stolen the Lightforge Iron.
I'm sitting a safe distance from one of their makeshift villages; These Murlocs are different from what I've faced in the past. They stand a full head over me if they didn't stand with a hunch. They are ferocious, and powerful, I should be wary not to try and attack too many at once.
Flying to Stormwind, Evening.
I returned the Lightforge Iron to the Dwarf in the Tavern, He asked me to take the crate of Iron to Stormwind. I'm flying now, Over Dun Morogh, and The Searing Gorge.
I have landed in Stormwind. God it's good to be home. It's almost my 19th birthday, and I feel as if I'm growing further and further away from my race. I'm becoming more interested in the Dwarves and Elves.
They have been around for so long, and have such great knowledge. I love to learn, and I long for wisdom, Hopefully some day I can make the journey to the Elven homelands in Kalimdor.
Flying to Westfall, Night.
I'm on my way to the Western edge of Duskwood, I have to deliver Morbent's Bane to Sven. It seems that people are too afraid to leave the safe areas of the Eastern Kingdoms, confining themselves within City walls.
The Hushed Bank, Late evening.
I delivered the package to Sven, he said I needed to slay Morbent Fel, a insane and powerful Wizard. Luckily the trainers of my order have taught me how to exorcize demon's and undead, rendering them weaker, and causing extreme pain to the living.
It will be a challenging fight, but I have full confidence I will prevail unscathed.
I am slightly disconcerted by the Twins not replying to my letter, I do hope they got it, I need them to get stronger for the battles ahead. I just wish that I knew why they were following me, stalking me if you will. I have faith in the Gods that it is for no Ill reason; however there is still worry in my mind as to the cause of their crusade.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I would like my wife to join me on this server as World of Warcraft is a hobby we enjoy together; however she is not a roleplayer, and usually doesn't talk with anyone outside of me (in party chat). Would this be a problem?
My best friend will also be joining us probably, he is a roleplayer much like myself, we both got bored of the constant gear grind at level 80/85 in retail.
Well, I'm 22, married, and have a passion for creative writing. The reason I play MMORPG's is because when you find yourself a good group of roleplayers it makes the game come alive. Like you have a looking glass into another dimension.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I live in Ontario Canada, and I speak english, and I try to use it exceptionally well.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My old councillor referred me to play the Closed Beta, I enjoyed it, continued on through Release, and took a break after the announcment of The Burning Crusades Release date. I returned about 6 months before Wrath dropped, kept playing on and off until 4.2.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
I loath Cataclysm patch 4.2 with the fiery passion of a thousand angry suns. I have played a Paladin since Closed Beta, and I will Always play them, I have been told by many people that I make a very good tank, So I began dabbling with Warriors as well. I have healed as a Shaman, and a Paladin; This rant has purpose; As of Patch 4.2 Tanks, are losing a crucial part of their stats, i.e. Dodge, and healers are getting "nerfed" again as well... So, as of 4.2 I quit playing Retail and searched out other servers. I looked into CotH a year ago I believe it was because its known as the best Roleplay server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy most kinds of roleplay, whether it be questing as a group in character, having some drinks in a tavern, or sitting around a bondfire fishing. I like how with a few good roleplayers you can find yourself no longer playing a game, you find yourself amidst another world entirely.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I have 2 of each:
Races: Humans; I am human, and I relate. I also like the mythology of the Human Race in fantasy adventures; A young race, with extreme potential.
My other favourite Race is Dwarves; I have always liked the unrefined personalities of Dwarves in various fantasy books, Gimli from Lord of the Rings, Flint Fireforge from Dragonlance, I like the protective Grandfather figure they portray. They seem like they are so angry and bitter, but really have a good heart.
My 2 favourite classes to play are: Paladins and Warriors. Paladins: I enjoy tanking, its my favourite group role, I also enjoy being able to solo basically anything if I'm unable to find a group.. My favourite part of the Paladin is being able to help people with various buffs, and being able to assist with group quests with ease.
My other favourite class is Warriors; Once again I love to tank, but I also like the Warrior type characters in fantasy stories; Again I refer to Dragonlance, specifically Ceremon Majere. I like being a protector, someone who looks out for others.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Roleplay immersion, a kind community, and a total lack of idiocy. I abhor the fact that you cannot set foot on most servers without the constant derogatory banter and name calling in various public channels.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
All of them, the rules of your server are the rules I instill in the guilds I ran during my time in Retail.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
A story I wrote about my Character in Retail; I would probably stick to what I already know here. It is written as a series of journal entries. I am working on a series of Novellas based off of my WoW characters, that I may submit to Blizzard, or I may change names and locations and submitt it as my own
My first attempt to post said that I was 11K words over so I will post the first Week of the journal
The Lost Templar Series
Kira’s Journal Part 1
The Rise in the Eastern Kingdoms
Day 1: Early Fall, Dusk, Camp in the heart of the Wetlands
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I was advised that keeping a journal may help in my search for clues about my Mother.
Its damp here, I set up camp by a Goblin vendor just off the road at the Three Corners in the heart of the Wetlands. The constant rain and sloshing of water here is making it rather difficult to sleep. I just wish that was the real reason I’m awake. I can’t stop thinking of what I’ve seen, where I’ve been, and the unimaginable things that I’ve done.
The depths of The Deadmines, the criminals in the Stormwind Stockades, the horrible abominations in Blackfathom Deeps; Horrors of sorcery witnessed in Shadowfang keep, the crazed fanatics of the Scarlet Crusade, and their religious zealots in the Monastery. These memories plague me, in sickening embrace; it seems so long ago I had naivety, and innocence, playing in the fields of Elwynn Forest as a child in a time where parents spent time with their children.
Before the Draenei's Exodar had landed, and before the dreaded Lich King enacted his onslaught upon the kind people of Azeroth.
My name is Kira Tirianna Valore, Daughter of the great Paladin protector Tirianna Valore. This is my story, my journal of my adventures. How I came to be, the peril's I've faced, and the knowledge I've gained. I suppose it's easiest to start at the beginning.
My Childhood:
I remember swimming in the Amberstill Lake just north of the Eastvale logging camp where I was raised. That was before the Murlocs, before the world started falling apart, before the tranquil animals turned vengeful and wary. The way I remember it, everything started with the Murlocs. Murlocs: slimy and smelly foul little beasts, vicious, and bloodthirsty. They crawled up to the shore, standing the same height as I when I was just a child. I remember my first encounter with them well, I was swimming in the Amberstill Lake, when I felt something slimy graze my feet, a sensation I had grown accustom to, it was very common with the seaweed on the lakebed. I felt it a second time, the difference was, this time it wrapped around my foot and began pulling me under.
That was the first time I found out about my mother’s strength and force. She’d heard my screams from the house, the panicked shrieks of her child drowning. She must have jumped out the window onto her horses back and road Tristran up to the shore. I remember the water being so cold at the bottom of the lake. It was dark, with strange shapes circling around me. Something grabbed my collar, and hauled me out of the water. My mother tossed me on the shore as if I were a rag doll.
I laid there sobbing, cold, and soaked to the bone, but I remember looking upon her in fear as dozens of the fish people ran up out of the water and swarmed around her. There was a flash of golden light that emanated as a ring around her, as if it exploded from her waist. The ground beneath her and the Murlocs’ feet began to glow ominously. The disgusting creatures looked at the glow with a perplexed look as a massive golden pillar exploded through the air in a blinding flash. The force pierced through the ground like a massive spider’s web. Then, upon the disc of golden grass, lay the bodies of the Murlocs’.
That day, my mother didn’t say much to me. She helped me dry off, and placed me at the fire with a drink of honey-mint tea. That was the sweetest memory I have to remember her by, we just sat by the fire, drinking our tea, and enjoying the time we had together.
At the age of 10, my mother left. She was called upon by King Wyverinn to defend the people of the world against Arthas. She left me in the care of the kind souls at the Northshire Abbey just to the East of Stormwind. The monks there looked after me, taught me how to survive by teaching me how to fish, hunt, and cook. They instructed me to defend myself with various weapons: Swords, Maces, Spears, and my bare hands; so that one day I’d be able to assist those in need. The blood of a warrior flows through my veins and the Monks knew it.
Thankfully; Blessed by the Gods my mother was. When she was claimed from this world, I swore a blood oath to find her, and provide rescue if it was necessary. No one knows where the great Tirianna Valore went; she just disappeared from the face of Azeroth. Some say she was taken to a different realm, a different world, to defend the people in need. I know I’m not the only one searching for her. She meant so much to many of this world’s residents.
The Beginning:
When I wasn’t studying the Holy Arts under Brother Sammuel, Marshall McBride kept me busy. The first of my tasks I thought was a horrible one.
The wolves in Northshire Abbey had become plague ridden with some unknown disease. They were spreading the illness and McBride sent me to Eagan Peltskinner to make sure that the plague was stopped before it became a pandemic. Eagan was kind enough to provide me with some crafted wolf skin bracers for completing his task in the Valley.
After dealing with the diseased wolves, I heard word that the local mine had become over-run with Kobolds, so I spoke with Marshall McBride about it, who confirmed the grim news
Kobolds, short and squat rat people, somewhat humanoid, but with a foul odor, had claimed the North Western part of the Northshire Valley, moving themselves into the Echo Ridge Mine and claiming it as their own.
With Stormwinds great army defending the Continent of Northrend against the Lich King, they hired out the tasks to Mercenaries, Thieves and Assassins, Wizards, Warlocks and those training in the Holy arts.
I had to venture deep into the mine for McBride. He needed me to see just how much damage these ugly bastards had caused. It was dank, and not very well lit; I guessed that these things could see in the dark. The news I had to report to Marshall McBride was not the best in nature. The Kobolds had taken over the entire mine.
After the weak and ill-fated Kobolds took a foothold, word spread that the Valley was weak, and the rogues of the Defias Brotherhood claimed the Vineyard to the east of the Abbey, just across the river.
The lush rows of grapes formerly owned by Milly Osworth had been infested with Garrick Padfoot’s clan of thieves.
Milly Osworth, a kind and honest lady, a natural pacifist with short black hair and deep emerald eyes, wore lavender and blue clothing, perfect for the fields, had requested me to go into the vineyard and collect a few buckets of grapes. I had to fight for every ounce of the delicious little fruits against the Defias in the vineyard, who believed it was now their personal stash. Which lead me to Garrick Padfoot.
Garrick Padfoot, foot soldier to Edward VanClef, was a challenging foe, he and his small army were not willing to just let go of their claimed land as easily as I had hoped. It took me a while, but I successfully collected his head.
A short while after defeating Garrick, I left the Valley, and headed to Goldshire. Strange news reached me during my time in Goldshire, I heard word that Garrick was still forcing his tyranny on the Valley, I later found out that the Defias had employed powerful wizards, and just a few days after I had successfully dealt with him, he had been restored and resurrected.
Before I left the Valley, the people there were kind enough to give me what spare coin they had or second hand equipment for my troubles in dealing with the problems around the Abbey, to help me start my journey in search of my mother. I travelled to Goldshire and found work for the townsfolk, dealing with more Kobolds. It seems as if after my mother left, the beautiful and lush Elwynn forest had become a festering pool for all things retched.
My First Real Task:
I wandered for days around Elwynn Forest; I re-visited the house in which I spent my early childhood in at the Eastvale Logging camp. I miss the sweet smell of the sap trees, feeling the grass under my feet, and not having to worry about some beast or monster jumping out at me.
I found a Wanted poster on the edge of Elwynn and Westfall just west of the bridge, to bring back the paw of a horrid Gnoll nicknamed "Hogger". He was powerful, exceptionally strong, and wielded a fierce weapon. He brought me great trouble which forced me to enlist the assistance of locals to bring him to his fall. I was rewarded handsomely for completing this bounty.
It saddens me that that was the last time I would see Elwynn for some time, because my Journey was leading me to Westfall and beyond its dry climate.
After fighting the dozens of wretched Gnolls under “Hogger’s” command, I finally faced the beast. With grave wounds, yet triumphant, I returned to Goldshire and received my reward and bounty for the charge.
The Defias Brotherhood:
Thanks to a pair of magically imbued chainmail leggings, given to me for defeating "Hogger", my time in Westfall went far more smoothly than I had first anticipated. Upon entering Westfall, just off the road was a couple of elderly farmers who requested my assistance, retrieving oats for their aged horse Blanchy, as well as the farmers pocket watch which he was forced to leave behind after the Defias ransacked his homestead. I retrieved his watch, and upon returning it he advised me to speak to a soldier in Sentinel Hill, Garyn Stoutmantle, he was the Head of the Westbrook Garrison in Westfall.
I walked south, past parched fields and abandoned farmsteads, avoiding ravenous birds, and the disoriented Harvest Watcher automatons, which can no longer distinguish between friend and foe. When I reached Sentinel Hill, I decided to get some rest in the inn before speaking with Garyn.
Hearing of my deeds in the local farmsteads, Stoutmantle entrusted me with a task to thin the number of the Defias Brotherhood encroaching upon Sentinel Hill.
My task was simple, yet complicated, he ordered me to bring proof that I had slain the thieves by collecting their Red Leather Bandanas. However, these particular bandana's were not warn by many; I suppose it is an item given to either those who prove themselves exceptional, or those who have obtained a high enough rank within their Clan.
The fall of Moonbrook:
The town of Moonbrook, once a peaceful mining village had been over-run with the Defias enclave. Edward VanClef had claimed The Deadmines as his personal Lair. The Defias Looters and Pillagers had infested every area of the Town. The only place of sanctity to be found was in the Moonbrook schoolhouse, strange that they would avoid it.
Some of the Defias had taken to looting what was left of the desecrated town, while others, heavily trained and powerful Mages, had taken to protecting the village and defending its borders, as well as the entrance to VanClef's hide-away.
Hours seemed to have passed, the mindless fools throwing themselves at me, what a waste of what could have been fine soldiers to The Alliance. I no longer had the battered and worn war hammer that was given to me at the Abbey, for I had replaced it with a razor sharp sword coupled with a well-made shield. My worn, chipped and splintered chain mail armor had been replaced by a new set. Magically imbued by the Mages of Stormwind increasing my strength, and speed; I added to the safety I found in heavy armor by rendereing the services of a Tanner to reinforce the suit with an underlying mesh of leather armor. It made me an unstoppable force to reckon with. I cut a swath through the brigands, right to the entrance of the Deadmines.
The Defias Brotherhood; Clearance.
I reported back to Garyn with the news of Moonbrook being over-run, and how I had reduced the numbers of the Defias ravishing the town. He sent me to the fishing town of Lakeshire in the Redridge Mountains, as well as the Night-Watch village of Darkshire in Duskwood, to seek reinforcements to Assassinate VanClef.
Into The Deadmines:
After flying around to Darkshire and Lakeshire, the residents were not much for sending reinforcements to Garyn, they had their own troubles, far worse than the Defias it seemed. The fishers in Lakeshire had to deal with Orcs and Gnolls, Gnolls that put “Hogger” to shame, and Orcs…well, these were Blackrock Orcs, large and powerful, they are claimed to be one of the most dangerous clans of the Free Orcs.
Darkshire had to deal with resurrected Skeletons and Ghouls, on top of the crazed wolves and giant spiders all of which were made a miniscule problem compared to the Worgen in the woods. Something bothered me about Duskwood, it seems to be engulfed in perpetual darkness, probably how it came to be named. The air is heavy, tension crackles through the wanes of the were-wolves howls. Through the shaded bows of the trees blocking the sky you can catch a glimpse of a full moon. That may not seem strange to most, but as I was flying from Redridge, I left at midday, maybe ten minutes had passed before I landed in Darkshire, so that leads me to believe that there are dark magic’s manipulating that forest.
After some time I finally found other adventurers to assist me in taking down the Head of the Defias.
We ventured deep into the Mine, past the miners who had orders to attack on sight, along with the Watchers and Mages. In the Deadmines, we came across powerful foes, I was glad to not be alone, Wizards of unspeakable power, Warlocks controlling giant ethereal demons, Goblins, oh horrible Goblins. The first exceptionally powerful enemy we faced was Rak’Zor, an Ogre VanClef had employed to defend an entrance deeper into the lair.
The more opponents we faced, the more momentum we gained, instilling fear into the weaker miners, making them flee, however with negative recompense, the overseers became more angered by our progression.
We managed to defeat Sneed, and his powerful mechanical suit he called his Shredder.
Sneed was in the Mast room, replacement drafts being made for a ship of unspeakable size. We opened the door, unfortunately not quietly. The dozen Goblins building and molding parts and pieces for the ship all turned to the newly opened door. Hand axes came flying at us as the Goblins charged. I was knocked off my feet by an axe to the chest of my armor. Thankfully my mother had taught me how to create a holy consecration on the ground, nowhere near as effective as it was when she used it on the Murlocs when I was a child, but useful all the same. It made a holy fire slowly creep up the Goblins legs, taking their energy, and bringing them to their end on my blade.
Sneed, and his dastardly creation came down from cutting a new mast.
After defeating him in his abomination, we ventured onward into the Foundry of the Deadmines. An elaborate goblin infested area that even the Dwarves would aspire to have.
Gilnid and his mechanics were some trouble to dispatch of, it burned when they threw molten metal on us and they commanded remote controlled automatons just to further our troubles.
We made it past the Foundry, and wended our way down to the doors leading into Ironclad Cove. VanClef had docked a ship there, and filled the docks and ship with an army of various warriors. Mr. Smite, the first mate to Captain Greenskin, stood at the top of the ramp onto the ship.
Cleaving through the pirates guarding the docks, we finally had made it to the end of the ramp, when Mr. Smite spotted us. A huge Tauren warrior, probably ten feet tall, half human and half bull, wielding massive weapons with a ferocious roar, charged down at us and in one swoop managed to knock us all flat on our backs. We managed to severely injure him, but using his immense size, he managed to cause mass panic among the group just by slamming his hoof down on the dock, dazing us all. He was a formidable foe, challenging to defeat, yet I hold respect for the great Tauren, he would have been a valuable ally.
We cleared the ship, slaying the Murloc chief named “Cookie” and moved on to entering battle with Captain Greenskin and his escort.
Edward VanClef, stood waiting for us in his cabin, seemingly alone. Boy, were we wrong. I charged up to him, and bashed him with my shield, upon doing so assassins appeared out of the shadows. It was a long and grueling battle, ergo many wounds were suffered, yet we remained victorious.
Day Two: Early Fall; Morning, Camp in the heart of the Wetlands.
I awoke to the face of a Goblin over me. Long ears and a squashed face peered down at me, encouraging me to wake. The marshland has played with my armor. Forcing it to rust and squeak at every movement, as well as making it brittle and ready to break, not the best thing when there are exceptionally aggressive Crocolisk’s in the area.
So today I plan on heading to Arathi Highlands. Its North of the Three Corners, past Dun Modr, and over the Thandol Span. The Refuge Camp is located close to the Middle of the Arathi Highlands so I’m told, it is a small encampment in a gully, just outside the tunnel to the Arathi Basin, an Area the Horde and Alliance have been fighting to maintain control of for years. I’m hoping for an easy ride to Arathi, Tristrel is a fine horse, but I am hoping to acquire him some armor shortly. I feel as though I should invest in his protection. The lands we’re heading to are filled with very dangerous creatures, and he’s the only thing I have really left of my mother.
Day Two: Early Fall; Midday, Refuge Camp, Arathi Highlands
In the Refuge Camp, I managed to get Tristrel some light armor, not much, it’s rather worn and made from light steel, but it will have to do for now. I feel better knowing that he’s somewhat protected, especially with these Raptors running wild over the rolling hills of the Highlands.
After a short rest, to take the time to write this, I’m heading to Southshore in the Hillsbrad Foothills. I have heard that they are having problems dealing with the local wildlife and Murlocs, I wasn’t sold on going there, wildlife problems I don’t particularly like dealing with, however when I heard of the Murloc infestation. I can’t get there fast enough.
Day Two: Early Fall; Mid Afternoon, Thoradins Wall, Border.
I had to avoid a party of Forsaken on the road west towards Thoradins Wall. They looked exceptionally strong. Tristrel and I fled for our lives because in avoiding the Undead, we unknowngly caught the eye of one of the local raptors, were chased by the foul beast and on more than one occasion, almost had us, however it gave up after quite some distance.
Tristrel and I took this brief rest at Thoradins Wall, bordering the Arathi Highlands and the Hillsbrad Foothills. He’s a strong horse, but I’ve been pushing him a little too hard, fleeing from the raptor didn’t help his fatigue.
Day Two: Early Fall; Early Evening, Southshore Inn.
I spoke with Loremaster Dibbs, who assigned me the task of acquiring five tomes of knowledge and a leatherbound book from the North. Inside the inn I spoke with a Draenei who requested I recover a shipment of Rare Crystals from the Undead known as the Forsaken just up the road to the North East. Lieutenant Farren Orinelle requested I kill twenty of the Murlocs known as the Torn Fin’s, ten of their warriors known as the Tide Hunters, and ten of their Wizards known locally as Oracles. However, as of this present I am no where near strong enough to deal with these requests, so I spoke with the Griffon Master Darla Harris, to seek passage back to the wetlands to see if I could acquire the equipment necessary to complete the tasks in the Hillsbrad Foothills. It will be a short flight I hope, being airborne makes me nervous.
Day Two: Late Evening, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
Upon my arrival, I spoke with a few of the townsfolk who requested I bring them various items of personal importance. I wandered into the Menethil Keep to speak with Captain Stoutfist. He was an aged Dwarf, clad in dented plate armor, a sword hung loose at his side in a brown leather scabbard, his shield slung on his back.
He rendered my services to bring the Orc clan known as the Dragonmaw to a fall in the area. He needed eight Dragonmaw War Banners to break their morale. I am in need of rest, the stars are out, and the sun resting beneath the land.
Day Three: Dawn, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
I woke in the Deepwater Tavern and Inn; I draped my chain mail hubrik over my torso, and climbed into my chain leggings, and carefully placed my tabard over top of the jingling rings, slung my shield around my back, and sheathed the Thief’s Blade that I had acquired in the Deadmines. It sat snugly in its scabbard its curved blade resting on my thigh. I have comprised a list of things to do for the day, acquire four skins of the Young Crocolisk’s in the area for the drunkard, remove at least twelve of the Blue-Gill Murlocs by the coast, retrieve Sida’s bag from a rather impetuous slime as well as collect the Dragonmaw War Banners. Added to that list this morning, First Mate Fitzsimmons came to me and asked that I bring him a Flagon of Mead, and locate a person called “Greenwarden”.
I brought Fitzsimmons a flagon of mead, and he told me his tale, he was a member of the Third Fleet of Kul Tiras, and the sole survivor of a horrid wreckage off the coast. In honor of his fallen comrades that were stuck in this plane of existence, Fitzsimmons asked that I bring peace to the Cursed Sailors, and allow them to enter the everlasting sleep. An odd request tacked onto that however, he asked that I also retrieve Captain Snellig’s old Snuffbox. I have a feeling that this poor soul is seeking solace not only at the bottom of a bottle, but in any means necessary.
I’ve eaten my breakfast of Boiled Clams I had prepared last night; I sharpened my sword, and prayed for the Gods’ protection throughout my Dailey tasks.
Day Three; Mid-day, Camp outside Dragonmaw Enclave, Wetlands.
I put the sailors’ spirits to rest, their wounds caused an odd curse, transforming me into a Forsaken Undead, I felt weaker, less agile and generally less efficient in combat.
I collected the Crocolisk skins for Fitzsimmons as well, and on my way to the Dragonmaw defeated “Gobbler” and his Bluegill Murlocs. I needed to eat something, and bandage my wounds before attempting to take on the Orcs. Luckily, my strength returned while camping, I was returned to my normal, human self. I am about to destroy these Orcs, imposing themselves upon the Wetlands, I pray I live through this encounter. If not, and someone finds this journal please to try deliver it to the Southeastern house in the Eastvale Logging camp in Elwynn forest.
Day Three; Late Afternoon, Whelgars Excavation Site.
I made it through the Orcs thankfully, but I came across a leader of sorts. I defeated an Orc named Garneg, he and his cohorts were rather challenging foes. I came across Prospector Whelgar and a couple other Dwarves holed up in a cave outside an excavation site near the Orc encampment. They asked me to acquire some Dwarven runic fragments and slay some of the Local wildlife to make the area safer for them. At this point I’ve only collected six banners, and I have yet to retrieve Sida’s bag.
The Gods recently blessed me. I was engulfed in a bright golden light, and I became renewed. My wounds had been healed, my strength and vigor restored. I believe I am on the right path in finding my mother.
Day Three, Late Evening; Dun Modr, Wetlands/Arathi Border.
I decided to make camp near the Dwarven encampment just outside Dun Modr, just south of the Thandol Span to the Arathi Highlands.
The Dwarves asked me to complete a few tasks for them regarding the fall of their mountainside town of Dun Modr. The Dark Iron Dwarves had rebelled against the Dwarven alliance, and have been attacking Dwarven settlements all across the Eastern Kingdoms. Dun Modr, was a primary target, to the Dark Iron. Due to its strategic location next to the Thandol Span, the hordes of the Dark Iron Dwarves swarmed and took over the town.
These Dark Iron Dwarves I was pitted against would eat me alive in my current state. I must complete my current quests, and hopefully the Gods will favor me in golden light again, not to mention better equipment would greatly assist me as well.
It is almost time for me to rest. The sounds of rifle shots are rather lulling. The Mountaineer Dwarves have managed to confine the Dark Iron Dwarves to the gates of Dun Modr, so I should be able to have a restful and safe sleep.
Day Four; Early Dawn; Dun Modr, Wetlands/Arathi Border.
The Dwarf known as “Longbraid the Grim” woke me this morning. His light gray beard, rocky features, and harsh voice shook me awake at daybreak.
Today I ride south to The Green Belt, and speak to this “Greenwarden” before following the road West back to Menethil Harbor. I have completed most of the tasks I have been set out to do. Upon my return to Menethil, I plan on taking a Gryphon to the Dwarven capitol city of Ironforge. I have curiosities of the powers I will be able to possess in the training of the Paladinic arts.
On my travels, I do however need to slay the Raptors that Ormar Ironbraid asked me to, the area near the excavation site still is not safe.
Before I head out, I must say, I’m very glad for the company of Tristrel. He was the son of the mare Tristan, my mothers’ horse, and a fine colt he has turned out to be.
Day Four; Mid-Dawn, The Green Belt.
I spoke with the “Greenwarden”, a strange beast, almost as if a pile of vines and branches took form and began to walk and speak. It asked me to restore balance to the lands by cropping the flock of Gnolls in the area. They had become a blight upon the Wetlands, ravishing its natural resources, and unbalancing the natural equilibrium of the ecosystem.
Day Four; Mid-Day, The Green Belt.
Back at the “Greenwarden”, I cleared camp after camp of these Gnolls. I never understood their desire to destroy. What seem like half Human, half boar, the squeal when you run them through is unbearable. The “Greenwarden” has requested that I obtain nine Crude flints, as to what purpose I’m not sure. However, for some strange half spirit, half nature bound creature, he pays well, as such: I’m inclined to do what he asks. I am going to ride back to Menethil, and plan on getting the Flints on the way there. There are people at the Harbor who need to know that I have completed their requests, and hopefully I can bring peace to some of their hearts.
Day Four; Afternoon, The Green Belt.
I had acquired the flint for the “Greenwarden”, Its last task was to kill those similar to himself who had not embraced a peaceful and kind demeanor.
Still Afternoon:
Back to the “Greenwarden”, his kind were not easy to find, they blended into the environment, however they tended to stay in the marshland pools surrounded by crocolisks.
I am about to head back to Menethil Harbor, and hopefully I will have an uneventful ride there. Tristrel is getting tired; he needs a good brushing and rest. Hopefully I can find the Stable master who will tend to his needs, a thorough brushing of his chestnut hair is imperative, because the armor and humidity have caused severe matting. I could really use a drink as an added note.
Late Afternoon:
On my ride to Menethil, I decided to stop in at the Goblin’s camp in the Heart of the Wetlands. I found Kixxle dead, in front of his shop. I have a strong suspicion there are Horde in the area, he was a kind Goblin, and held no ill feelings towards anyone… That is unless you didn’t pay him.
Day Four: Evening, Flying to Ironforge.
I have informed the townsfolk in Menethil that my deeds have been completed. It’s a very sad sight that there is so much need in the world ever since Arthas came.
My mother truly was an amazing woman, if it was because of her and her allies that the world once was a much safer place, then her and her allies should be revered as Gods. Speaking of which, the Gods blessed me again, this is the reason I’m on my way to Ironforge. I plan on speaking with the Head of the Paladin’s in the Dwarven Capitol; maybe he can shed some light on what’s been happening to me, on why it seems my fate to help others.
I spoke with Brandur Ironhammer, he informed me that what is happening to me is: As I progress in proving myself in helping others, the gods are granting me extra power, so that I may complete greater tasks. He asked me how many times the God’s had rewarded my progress, and was rather shocked that it was nearing thirty times.
He trained me in new arts of my order, providing me with better spells that I can perform on a whim. Things that will help me defeat my enemies, rather than just go on instinct and the few things my mother taught me as a child. However, instinct has been serving me well thus far.
Day Four: Late Evening, Ironforge Auction house.
I heard word from an auctioneer of a pair of twin siblings who were following in my tracks. Sent by the Cenarion Enclave to follow me on my quest to discover the details behind my mothers’ disappearance, I decided to take a direct approach. I sent these siblings a letter, Informing them that the people of Menethil Harbor in the Wetlands were in dire need of assistance, and that they should travel there to pick up where I left off if they want to prove that they have no ill intentions.
I am needed in Southshore, as such, I am finishing up in the Wetlands before I head there, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the soldiers in the Arathi Highlands may need my help as well.
Day Four: Midnight, Flying to Menethil Harbor,
Ironforge became perilous while I was there, the Horde have grown restless I guess, because they were attacking the city. I finished my business as quickly as possible and flew back to the Wetlands in very short time.
Day Five: Early Morning, Menethil Keep.
Captain Stoutfist gave me an Ancient War Sword for defeating the head of the Orc’s in the Wetlands; I have also assisted many villagers in the harbor. After a brief rest, I’m flying to Southshore as I have been assigned some tasks I now feel that I am strong enough to complete.
I am not looking forward to dealing with Murlocs in the Hillsbrad Foothills, however, it seems that they exist in almost every area of the land. I wish that I could use the Ancient War Sword in combat, but as of yet, I refrain from giving up the safety of having my shield.
I’m beginning my flight to Southshore, after I have finished there I plan on wending my way back to the Arathi Highlands to clean up the hills of all those that are becoming overpopulated. My only worry is that in Hillsbrad I may not be able to assist those in need to my utmost ability.
Day Five: Mid-Afternoon, Southshore, Enroute to Ironforge.
I was still not strong enough to assist the villagers, however after returning the Draenei’s Rare crystals, the God’s shone their magical light on me once again empowering me with more strength and resolve.
I decided to head back to Ironforge to see if maybe Brandur can teach me more, to see if I can actually prove myself useful, like my mother.
I have heard many tales of her so far on my travels, a beautiful woman with snow-white hair, gleaming armor, a firm resolve vanquishing evil, and delivering people from their hatred.
Brandur taught me a little bit, some new spells and how to perform them, as well as a way to focus my Holy powers to prevent me from being interrupted during spell casting.
I realized that I have unfinished business in Darkshire, the small town in Duskwood, so I am flying there currently. It’s a rather long flight, which gives me time to add to my journal.
Strange things have been happening over the past few days, I’m being drawn to Northrend by an inexplicable force. I have so many questions I wish I could ask my mother, Why she left, Who my father was, and why I’ve had this burning itch that hasn’t gone away, it’s like time is speeding up. I turned 18 about two seasons ago, and for some reason, I just don’t feel as if I’m as old as I should feel. I’m confused at my uncanny ability to survive the utmost grueling circumstances, defeating hordes of enemies all by myself, yet I feel as if I’m a child in an adult body.
Day Five: Evening, Darkshire, Duskwood.
I have landed in Darkshire, and the townsfolk are in mass panic, there is more work then I know what to do with here. I hope that what Brandur taught me can help me save these people before they rip themselves apart.
There are werewolves in the forest. I have been tasked with slaying these Worgen, fast and powerful, however lacking defensive capabilities; I believe that a strong offense is the best Defense in this situation.
I have to fly to Westfall, and ride to the Raven Hill Cemetery, the undead have plagued that area, and it requires cleansing with extreme prejudice. I can deal with the Worgen on my ride back from the cemetery.
Day Six: Morning, Darkshire, Duskwood.
After a brief rest, I flew to Westfall, and rode to the Raven Hill Cemetery, to deal with the Fiendish ghouls and abominable skeletons; I came across a young warrior who required my assistance in the worst way. A fellow Paladin joined us, named Miss Victoria “Tori” Lee Ranson. She was a fellow believer in the Holy arts like myself. Calvarium was a strong but quick-tempered young man, who was well trained in combat, yet held little regard for the Gods and the powers that they hold.
We made our ways into the depths of the Crypts in the cemetery; legions of the undead walked, hobbled and crawled across every bare inch of the floor. Plagues and diseases festered here like mold in a damp cupboard. Many a time did I suffer a wound that became rapidly infected. Thankfully, Brandur in Ironforge had taught me how to cleanse poisons, diseases and magical effects with a short yet effective prayer.
Day Six: Mid-day, Raven Hill Cemetery, Duskwood.
Calvarium and I have slain Mor’Ladim, formerly known as Morgan Ladamire, he was a menace, and a worthy opponent. I will be rewarded with a powerful sword, however again too large to wield whilst maintaining a shield. We stopped for a brief rest before riding to Sentinel Hill in Westfall, before we fly back to Darkshire, and I retire for the day. After fighting Mor’Ladim, I am absolutely exhausted.
Day Seven: Daybreak, Scarlet Raven Tavern, Duskwood.
In the Stockades:
My dreams were plagued by memories of the slaughter within the Stormwind Stockades.
I had been invited to assist a fellowship in carrying out a task within the prison itself. It seemed as if the Defias had been making quite the trouble for the Stormwind Guard.
Bazil Thredd, and the inmates of the prison, all convicts worth being taken to the gallows, suffered a horrible fate by my own hands. We were sent to assassinate the leaders within the prison to quell the uprising, however things turned to the worst. One of our party members was a sick and twisted individual; he began, murdering everything in his sight. I knew they all deserved to die, but not by a blood crazed maniac, but by the Law.
Dextren Ward, and Targorr the Dread were all on our shopping list of murder as well as Bazil Thredd. All of them deserved to hang, but I felt that what we were doing was more of a massacre then justice. We slowly traveled down the main corridor, before facing Targorr the Dread, he was a tall and extremely strong Orc, dark grey skin, and a tassel of black hair was the only thing that drew attention away from his hateful eyes, and grotesque demeanor.
The Orc fell without a word. We were all battered and bruised, it was a brutal fight, but we were successful in the end. We made our way through the East and West wing, vanquishing the inmates and convicts that protected their leaders with their lives. .
We were rewarded for our assistance to the Stormwind Guard, but after the horror I witnessed, I decided to head up North, and spend some time with the Dwarves.
Day Seven: Early Dawn, Scarlet Raven Tavern, Duskwood.
I have received a shield from the Night Watch, in commendation for my deeds here in Duskwood. I have been referred to a Rebel camp in the Stranglethorn Vale, as such I have abandoned my tasks in Southshore and Arathi for now, I will go to this Stranglethorn Vale and assist the few rebels there.
It’s a lush jungle, however with great beauty comes great danger. The animals there are strong and powerful, a whole new meaning to “Survival of the Fittest” is brought to light.
The Twins are sleeping upstairs in the inn right now; they have no idea that I’m back in Duskwood. I’m hoping that they follow my instructions and help out in the Wetlands.
Who knows, they may be able to be more useful then I was in Southshore.. That is, if they make it that far, both are powerful in their vocation; however I’m worried that Älysia may cause problems. She’s strong, yet impetuous.
I am about to embark to the Rebel Camp in Stranglethorn Vale, Tristrel is looking forward to stretching his legs on a good run, I just hope I can keep him safe while I’m in the jungle.
Day Seven: Late morning, Rebel Camp, Stranglethorn Vale.
The people here have work for me, however they don’t think I have what it takes. They told me to talk to a Hemet Nesingwary Jr. Just a short distance from the camp; I think this is a test, because there are Tigers and Crocolisks between Hemet and I.
Nesingwary Camp, Mid-day.
These hunters request that I prove my salt against the local wildlife, a task that I regretfully accept.
Something peculiar happened on the ride through Duskwood. I had to stay off the road, there was this horrid, grotesque monster, half of its body ripped apart, chains dangling from its wrists, making its way towards Darkshire. I do hope the people there are all safe.
Nesingwary Camp, Mid-Afternoon.
I successfully slew the beasts Hemet and his pals wanted me to, all they did was assign me more, stronger ones to defeat. I plan on riding back to the Rebel Camp, to see if I have proved my worth yet.
Rebel Camp, Mid-Afternoon.
The people at the Rebel Camp have just restated what I already had a suspicion of. I have yet to prove myself, one person did ask me to deliver a message to the Wetlands as well as Arathi, so it looks as if I’m heading back to the Northern Part of the Eastern Kingdoms. It will be a long flight, so hopefully I can catch some rest on the way there.
Menethil Harbor, Late Afternoon, Wetlands.
I have just landed in the wetlands, the flight was made all the shorter due to the fact that I tied myself to the reigns of my gryphon and grabbed some shut eye.
I'm going to talk to Glorin Steelbrow about The Doomed Fleet before I head to the Arathi Highlands and see if he has any more work for me.
Deepwater Tavern, Late Afternoon, Menethil Harbor, Wetlands.
The Dwarf in the inn asked me to get the Lightforge Iron from the sunken ship just off the harbor docks.
I'm not a fan of swimming, especially wearing all my armor, however I will need it if I run across anything aggressive or dangerous.
Menethil Bay, Early Evening, Wetlands.
Murlocs... I hate Murlocs.. These foul beasts have stolen the Lightforge Iron.
I'm sitting a safe distance from one of their makeshift villages; These Murlocs are different from what I've faced in the past. They stand a full head over me if they didn't stand with a hunch. They are ferocious, and powerful, I should be wary not to try and attack too many at once.
Flying to Stormwind, Evening.
I returned the Lightforge Iron to the Dwarf in the Tavern, He asked me to take the crate of Iron to Stormwind. I'm flying now, Over Dun Morogh, and The Searing Gorge.
I have landed in Stormwind. God it's good to be home. It's almost my 19th birthday, and I feel as if I'm growing further and further away from my race. I'm becoming more interested in the Dwarves and Elves.
They have been around for so long, and have such great knowledge. I love to learn, and I long for wisdom, Hopefully some day I can make the journey to the Elven homelands in Kalimdor.
Flying to Westfall, Night.
I'm on my way to the Western edge of Duskwood, I have to deliver Morbent's Bane to Sven. It seems that people are too afraid to leave the safe areas of the Eastern Kingdoms, confining themselves within City walls.
The Hushed Bank, Late evening.
I delivered the package to Sven, he said I needed to slay Morbent Fel, a insane and powerful Wizard. Luckily the trainers of my order have taught me how to exorcize demon's and undead, rendering them weaker, and causing extreme pain to the living.
It will be a challenging fight, but I have full confidence I will prevail unscathed.
I am slightly disconcerted by the Twins not replying to my letter, I do hope they got it, I need them to get stronger for the battles ahead. I just wish that I knew why they were following me, stalking me if you will. I have faith in the Gods that it is for no Ill reason; however there is still worry in my mind as to the cause of their crusade.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I would like my wife to join me on this server as World of Warcraft is a hobby we enjoy together; however she is not a roleplayer, and usually doesn't talk with anyone outside of me (in party chat). Would this be a problem?
My best friend will also be joining us probably, he is a roleplayer much like myself, we both got bored of the constant gear grind at level 80/85 in retail.