A Hunter's Diary

[Wuvvums]

((OOC note: Sorry if this is so mundane, the next few entries should be a bit better. This is the diary for my human hunter, Marie, and this is my first time doing something like this.))

Prologue:

The day had finally come where I felt myself ready and trained to take on the dangers and trials that a traveler must face when setting out into the world. Between the three continents of Azeroth, and Outland, there is much to explore in both its places and people, and I am just old enough to get started on such adventures.

Stormwind is one ride from the tram away. From there I will head South, and hunt for a living.

Entry 1: Booty Bay

Today I met a peculiar fellow named Sir Rick Lewenheart. By his garb, and the way he acts, I could only assume he was a knight. Despite my tattered, woodland clothes and the many furs I carried, he seemed to take to me as a lady, and urged me to take shelter from the constant rain of Booty Bay. The warm air of the jungle kept me from freezing in the weather, and it felt nice to listen to the pattering drops, but I didn't want to keep this noble knight worrying about me. I had accepted his invitation into the tavern, and we sat together, talked, and I enjoyed a nice glass of milk.

I am not sure what he saw in me to treat me with the utmost respect in politeness. Perhaps knights just do that with all women, but either way I chose to treat him the same way he had chosen to treat me. It wasn't too long before one of his own acquaintances was found in the tavern. The other man was Nathaniel if I recall; he seemed to be just the opposite of Rick. Rude, obnoxious, loud; I made sure to tell him that he should not act this way. When he had disregard my demand to behave I had taken what was left of my milk, and threw it his way. I didn't see what happened afterward, a gut instinct told me to run and before I knew it I was out the door.

Waiting out under the docks, I sat in the water and sands. I could only hear the rippling of water, how it flowed with the waves, and the stomping of the boots above. I think I like it under there, something about it is peaceful and no one disturbs me. I think I'll go there whenever I need some time alone. It didn't seem like Nathaniel was going to pursue me, but I figured I had hidden long enough. The dock was just a short swim away.

On the docks, I took to a higher vantage point, jumping onto one of the roofs. I must admit this place is neat, how I could go beneath the houses or run on top. From up high I could see the people, and Rick was an easy find. As we met up again it no longer rained, and it was the time where I told him I was going to explore the jungle.

Rick affirmed that he knew Stranglethorn well and could serve as a guide, and yet, it seemed that I was taking the lead most of the time. I think he nearly fainted when I went headstrong into some of the pools. The guy was convinced there were crocolisks about, but I am pretty sure they don't like to stay in an enclosed space of water. We had eventually taken a hike up a trail, and found some tents. The knight was worried that they belonged to someone else, but I wasn't going to use them anyways. Instead I led him further on, until we got to a cliff.

The view was wonderful! It was like seeing the end of the ocean and sky, where they would embrace one another at the end of the horizon. Rick and I stayed there for awhile, just watching, talking, he wanted to know much about my life but the more I tried to explain the more I realized I sounded like quite a simple woman. He said it seemed silly a few times. I guess it's harder to explain things on the fly than to take time writing your thoughts down in a book.

Either way I had a nice time with him. He was so friendly and made me feel welcomed in Stranglethorn. For that I gave him a cape made from one of the hides of the tigers. It didn't quite match with his other things, but I think he liked it.

Eventually Rick and I said our good-byes. It was hard for me to persuade him to go back without me, but I wanted some time to reflect upon this place. Stranglethorn was dangerous, yet serene, and I knew I wanted to spend more time here.

And I think I will.

[Wuvvums]

Entry 2: The Curious Corpse

On my travel back down the cliff I noticed something that wasn't there before. Rested atop a pike was the long-eared head of an elf. Trolls could have caused this, I am pretty sure this would have been something they did. If that was the case his death was wrongful, and he didn't deserve such a treatment as this.

Despite my better judgment I decided to collect the head. His corpse, I found out, had been rolled off a cliff. Diving down into the water I had to hold my breath and search for awhile, but I eventually surfaced with the battered body and managed to reunite it with its head.

I wrapped him tightly within my makeshift travel tent and some of my other pelts for good measure. While I had made a living out of dealing with dead things- mostly skinning them, something about an actual corpse felt eerie. As I struggled to carry him across the beach and back to Stranglethorn it almost felt like I had to deal with the weight of death on my shoulders. Had this man been alive we would have probably not gotten along at all. However, the dead deserve dignity and respect, and I think the best thing to do was to have him buried in his homeland as his final resting place.

Somehow I managed to get him all the way back to the tavern and take a room for the night. What can I say? I guess I'm easy to ignore, like I'm invisible. I didn't want to sleep in the room, but I knew it'd be suspicious to have a body around. Until I could find someone that could properly take care of him, I would have to keep this a secret behind a locked door...

Finding help would be harder than I thought.

I found Rick again and he was the first person I knew I could confide in with my secret. He had thought I was talking of something else unmentionable, but then I told him it was that I was hiding a body. He went to come see it with me, so I took him back up to the room.

Rick had a hard time dealing with facing the corpse uncovered. Anyone would, but he really didn't take to it well. He expressed the same sentiment that I did that something should be done, but we didn't know who to go to, so we decided to go look for some other elves that could perhaps return him to Quel'Thallas.

Now Stranglethorn Vale and Booty Bay weren't known to have elves often as visitors, so it wasn't an easy search. I had only found two, and they were rather peculiar incidents. The first... was nude, despite not being in a room. She was at the swimming spot I found just the day before, and was talking with a human. I heard her talking about how he was the first to see her naked or something, really though I didn't mean to walk in on it or hear about it. I mean, aren't forbidden romances supposed to be kept secret?

Either way they were rather hostile, especially when I inquired about the fact that he had an elf with him. When I explained my plight they became less worried, I suppose they were used to people getting on them for an interracial thing(though I can't blame the reactions of the general public). The blood elf was much too engrossed in her human lover to lend me any assistance, and given the awkwardness of the situation I just left as fast as I could.

The other wasn't much better.

This blood elf... I really couldn't describe him well, but he seemed concerned hearing from me. I mentioned how one of his kind was brutalized by trolls, and that his body should be delivered to Silvermoon. Solemnly he asked me to show him where he was, and as I lead away I was asked on the condition of the man.

Rather peculiar, I thought I clearly explained that he was a corpse. As soon as I replied that he was “beheaded,” the elf stopped in his tracks and told me the man was as good as dead meat and to dump him in the bay. With that he left...

I found no other blood elves that day.

At the risk of his corpse rotting I had returned to the room of the inn. In the darkness of the night I carried him away, back into the Vale. I buried his corpse, and marked his simple grave with a little stone pointed upwards. It took a human to give him the respect of a proper burial, as none of his kind shown sympathy for this man.

Not too long ago the Sin'Dorei's numbers had been decimated by the Scourge. It was said that nearly four fifths, if not more, died on that day. Because of that the remaining elves chose to call themselves “blood elves” in respect to the massive bloodshed that happened in Quel'Thallas. I had been told they were proud of their kind, and their race. And yet, I could not find one blood elf that day who wanted to show respect to the dead. As far as I am concerned, they are nothing to be proud of.

[Wuvvums]

((OOC note: Yes, I know it's interracial and all but I hope nobody minds it. I plan to handle this entry maturely, and with mention of the proper lore))

Entry 3: Time with a Troll

Well, diary, I must say I am just as surprised as you would be from this turn of events. This is something that I would probably not even tell you were you not my inner voice. I am not sure what the ramifications will be of this... relationship, or if others will even find out. The best I can do for now is explain myself, and how this even came to be. So let's take it from the beginning.

It all started after I had buried the corpse. Making a grave isn't easy, especially if you could only use the cheapest shovel the goblins could offer. The entire night was spent digging and digging, I didn't want the grave to be shallow, so by the time the unknown blood elf had been buried I had had been seeing the morning glow come up in the distance. I had barely any rest, and I was quite hungry, so I took a trip back to Booty Bay.

The day had felt like a drag. I was exhausted, dirty, and the ocean water could only get so much of the soil off of my arms and legs. I had bought a small lunch, and then spent who knows how long with my forehead against the table. I felt a bit distanced from the strangers around me, and too troubled to open up to anyone. To be honest, I guess the past few days took a toll on me. I felt disgusted at the Sin'dorei and something about caring for a corpse had me contemplating for hours about the nature of death. It seems even those that are long-lived as the elves are could very easily meet an early death.

Whatever problems I had weren't being resolved sitting around in Booty Bay, so I decided to set back out into the jungle.

The corpse kept coming to my mind so I traveled back to the grave site just to make sure it had not been disturbed. I had him buried on the highest cliff just up the trail where I had first found him, the view was magnificent, and I felt it the most fitting resting place this jungle could offer. I sat there, letting time pass, listening to the water flow and patter from the falls. I felt so worn out. My body ached, and it almost felt like my spirit ached too, tired in more than one way.

On my trip back down I had started to feel the full-force of the exhaustion. I walked with a swagger, and nearly fell off the side of the cliff. I struggled to keep going forward, and by the time I got to the camp my vision started to go bleary, not fuzzy, more like how the vision is just after waking. Feeling sapped of all strength I crawled into the tent, and huddled my body into a blanket made from one of the pelts I had from Dun Morogh.

Somehow the jungle felt as cold as Kharanos, and I was fighting to stay away. It wasn't too long though before I saw someone make it to the same campsite I was at. The figure didn't come into the tent, and didn't even seem to notice me. I struggled to make it out, and it didn't take too long to see. It was a troll, a troll! Oh what luck, as I saw him the images of the beheaded corpse came flashing through my mind.

I ducked down further into the corner of the tent and took cover under the pelt and my other possessions. I kept peeping on the troll, but it wasn't long before my body shivered and my nose tingled. Try as I might to quiet the oncoming sneeze the troll was alerted by the noise and started searching. He had walked off, and I heard his footsteps around the tent.

Something pressed my backside through the fabric, and it was in that moment I felt my body jump, and I was on my feet and ready to run. Out I went, at full speed, but before I knew it I had fallen forward flat on my belly. The feeling that came with fight or flight, the pumping of adrenaline, it wasn't enough to overcome the weakness I felt. A shadow blocked out the sun above me and as I managed to flip myself onto my back I saw the narrow nose pointing straight down at me.

I never felt so afraid, I was about to cry, but he began to speak. The troll asked me if I was alright, and offered his hand. On my feet I could only look at him, the moment felt so surreal that I was in the presence of a troll and yet my entire body was intact. I didn't try to run at this point, I was well aware my body wouldn't allow me to outrun this guy, and my muscles refused to carry me.

Without much response to go on he had told me I was paler than most humans. As he extended his hand I noticed how large it was. It seemed to engulf my forehead, and I could feel the warmth of his palm only briefly before he pulled back. I was sick and he knew it, and without protest I was carried back into the tent and wrapped up tightly in the fur pelt.

He had come in and out a few times, I didn't count how many, but eventually he had taken a strange, gooey green paste and smeared it all inside my mouth. It felt so bitter resting on my gums and teeth, but the vapors that came out were so powerful I felt cleared. His hands glowed green as he rested them against my head, and he told me that I seemed troubled, and asked what the matter was.

I am not sure what he did, but as I explained word for word it felt like the burden on my spirit was pulled straight out of me and through his hands. Perhaps I was just imagining things, I was feverish after all, but I managed to tell him the incident of the corpse, and how bad I felt. When he was done with his healing he had cleared the green stuff from my mouth, and I had felt slightly rejuvenated. We took some time to talk, but it hadn't been so long before I succumbed entirely to my exhaustion and fell to sleep.

By the time I woke up I felt the sickness pass over. Was my own human spirit that determined the quick recovery, or the troll's aid? Either way, I had become less afraid of this one in particular. Instead of losing my head I was healthy and strong, and it was all thanks to him. Part of me was glad to see he was still there, waiting outside by the fire. He had fallen asleep sitting, which was such a silly sight I started laughing. It wasn't too long before he woke up, and we were able to talk once more.

I learned quite a few things about him. His name was Raz'fon and he was a shaman, and not like most trolls. He was also quite peculiar(then again, he wasn't a human). His tusks and ears were so large, part of me wondered how he even carried the weight of his own head!

He seemed alright with me being a human, in fact, he told me a few of his own friends were humans. He even requested from me my company in return for the treatment he had given me when I was sick, and I accepted his request. It was the least I could do, he had shown me the greatest mercy I would have ever gotten from a troll.

The more time I spent with him the more I told him about my past few days and my feelings about it. He and I shared the same thoughts about the body, that the dead deserved respect and should be buried. Raz was just as appalled and disgusted with the blood elves as I was, and I found myself quite surprised that a so-called brutal and savage troll cared more about the dead blood elf than the actual elves I found. It was certainly quite a surprise.

But then eventually the conversation changed, words became less frequent and instead replaced with affection. I found myself pulled onto his lap, and I could have just died from the embarrassment, but did my best to hold together. Most trolls wouldn't have been caught dead with a human and yet this one was so friendly toward me. I started to have strange feelings, perhaps because I didn't feel as lonely as before, or that I had never really been this close with someone. Either way I had found myself connecting with him.

As time went on it started to get dark, and both of us were tired. This time we decided to share the roomy tent of his and I had the best sleep I could have in awhile. However, when the next morning came and I opened my eyes, I realized my time with the troll was not a dream, but an actual experience.

Now I'm wondering...

If I keep this up I would surely be considered an outcast to all humans, maybe even a traitor to the alliance.

What do I do?

There was once a time when humans were many scattered tribes, without leader nor faction, however, with the work of Thoradin and Ignaeus many of these scattered humans were united under the first human kingdom, Arathor. The high elves were constantly besieged by trolls, and asked our kind to help them win their battle against the savage beasts.

The high elves taught one-hundred of the humans the arcane arts, and the humans helped the high elves battle the trolls. The war was not an easy one, but in the end, I believe, it forever changed our three races. The humans had a valuable ally in the high elves, and the Amani Empire of the trolls fell. Along with the Gurubashi's civil war, trolls had surely fallen and would never see the glory of their empires again.

Ignaeus and his descendants would from then on be known by the name of Trollbane.

Scars like these seldom ever heal. Humans and trolls will probably keep hating one another for many more years, and chances are peace will never happen in our lifetime. And yet, as I saw him sleeping, seeing how tame and friendly he looked, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope. The Lich King has died, and the Horde and Alliance are ready to war once more, but, I find it amazing that in a world where racial tensions exist everywhere instances like these can even happen. I still am quite wary of trolls, but I knew no better friend than Raz'fon.

[Wuvvums]

((Note, these events aren't 100% true, given Marie's foggy memory))

Entry 4: A Sticky Jam

Sorry I have neglected you for so long, diary. Things have happened, scary things, and the more I try to remember what the heck even happened the more I get scared. Here are the thoughts that I have managed to pull together, and... I don't think they'll make sense.

All I can remember was that I was with some guy. He was very polite, kind, seemed elderly(though as a gnome I wasn't quite sure how old he was), and asked for my help. I had assisted him across Booty Bay, walking up and down different ramps so he wouldn't fall. When he got home I had been invited for tea. Given the damp weather of Booty Bay, the pleasant thought of warming my belly made me eagerly accept his invitation, and I went inside.

I am not quite sure what happened after, except I had opened a jar of jam. I didn't remember wanting any bread with my tea. Either way after the jam opened all I could see was purple. I had struggled against the mist only to drop to the floor. I could hear the old guy's words, but nothing else. All that I could think of was how I was going to end up like that corpse.

But I knew that wasn't going to happen! It wasn't my time, not yet. Somehow I had fought the weak feelings, and rose once more. I had suddenly felt like and strong. For that moment, even, I didn't feel human. No, I was an animal, I was fighting against the odds to survive. Fight and flight, that's what it was called. I fought him very briefly, and before he could strike back I was running out the door. However, I had felt myself leave ground, I was airborne, and time started to slow down. All I could see was the sky above me, and all I could hear was my thick, beating heart. I had never felt more free and alive to get out of danger...

But then it faded to black. I could only guess that I wasn't flying, but falling. When I slammed onto the dock, well, I couldn't remember much after that. I woke up later in a room, I couldn't move my arm at all, and of all the things for me to see! A tauren was wrapping up my broken limb, and a blood elf was trying to ask me what happened. I didn't think members of the Horde would have been so quick to assist me. I was still a bit shocked, and all I could explain to the blood elf was that jam caused all of this.

The tauren had finished and to ensure a quick recovery he made me drink a special concoction he made himself. It was very bitter, but afterward I had felt so tired, and I wasn't able to give anymore answers on what happened. I laid back into the cozy pillow, and dozed off to sleep...

When I woke up I was able to think clearly and didn't feel as weak. My arm was still in a bind, and I was a bit hesitant to go anywhere else in Booty Bay. I milled about the tavern and talked to a few people. One of them, I can't remember his name, apparently had business in the bay. I cautioned him of the incident that happened to me, or at least not to go off alone. He was a bit curious but I couldn't tell him much more than what I told the blood elf.

We had some idle chat, and seemed to have a bit in common with our diaries and all, but eventually I felt tired once more. I asked him for help assisting me back to my room and he was very quick to do so. It's good to find such polite people around. He even agreed to tell Raz'fon that I was up here, though with a bit of skepticism. I didn't even fall into a light name before Raz came by my side, and wanted to know what happened. I told him a little more than what I could tell the others, that a gnome did this, and Raz promised that something would be done. Before long he had carried me off and back to his campsite, I forget why we went there, but something about the tents felt peaceful, and I felt pretty safe with Raz.

We spent more time together in the wilderness, and something about that strengthened our bond. I knew it was still strange to like a troll, but... I didn't know what else I could do about these feelings. All I did know was that nothing felt safer than being in Raz's arms.

[Wuvvums]

((Note, I am deciding to retcon my character's rp. I think I'll use her differently, since I haven't logged on her in over a month))