Elemental Writing

[FlyingSquirrel]

The Journal seems simple enough, blue covering, the edges green. What distinguishes it from most is the etchings of the four Elemental symbols, each occupying a corner of each cover. The writing inside is simple enough, if not crude at some times.

Spoiler:

So journal the reason I have you is so I can remember what I do because we both know that my memory is as good as kodoshit.

So, what happened today.

I officially met a Draenei named Nexariel. Well, I had met her before but we never exchanged names. Then I had an idea.

The Hunt.

It's a mixture of Earthen Ring and Cenarion Circle people who fight for the five elements as Nexariel put it. Fire Water Earth Wind and Wild. So far its just me and Nexariel. Maybe Urzhad will join.

I've also put together a list of our potential enemies.
1 Twilight Hammer
2 Naga
3 Venture Co
4 Burning Blade

I'll add onto it as I come up with them but I guess Naga will come first because they're near here. But it just started so I'm not sure.

The Hunt has began.

[FlyingSquirrel]

This page seems slightly charred, but still, other then that, quite regular. The top of the page is covered in X's and O's, along with an attack formation.

Spoiler:

Gah, why do I do this? Why do I plan for a battle I know will never happen? It's just a waste of time. The two're gone, and to attack Desolace alone would be as idiotic as running into Stormwind naked swinging around an Argent banner.

I wonder if The Hunt was even a good idea to begin with. It was foolish, and I don't know what to do.

The rest of the page is charred beyond recognition.

[FlyingSquirrel]

This page has various attack plans on what seems like Nagrand.

Spoiler:

Great. They're all back, and we have our first Druid. Mouma, a Tauren that Urzhad... likes. And, so, I thought of the first thing that we had to do. I chose fighting Demons in Nagrand. Why, you may ask? Well, because the Demons there are in a position to destroy the Mag'har, which are the last 'pure' Orcs. Also, Nagrand is... Well, it's Nagrand. It's beautiful. We can't let the demons destroy the beauty of Nagrand.

Also, the Elements there are lightly.. angered. Of course, who wouldn't be? Their home was literally torn apart. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stones, and help quell the Elements in my homeland.

But, of course, not all of us are around at the same time. This makes organizing a portal time fel. But, anyways, we'll get there. We'll persevere. We'll protect.

And, of course visiting home isn't that bad of an idea either.

[FlyingSquirrel]

Regular page and everything.

Spoiler:

It's been a while since I've seen you, journal. Well, I've seen you. You've been with me the whole time. Yet, anyways, it's been a while since I've written in you.

Our first attack was a success. We were able to take down 6 demons, four felguards and two ganargs, and noone died. Only a few injuries, although they were easily taken care of. I have another planned in about an hour, so we'll see how many we take down this time.

We also got a few new possible members. A Draenei who can't speak Common, and another Orc, by the name of Juna. We still need more Shamans, though.

Now, I need to start preparing for our fight. May the spirits protect us, and may Lo'gosh fuel my rage.

[FlyingSquirrel]

Crude map of Blade's Edge Mountain, circles where Draenei might be hiding.

Spoiler:

Fucking Nexariel. She ran away with her mate. Honestly, who the fel does that? It's just childish. And in the middle of a fucking mission? That's a load of Kodo shit! We aren't here to be dramatic little infants, we're here to help the spirits! If you want to act like a child, then go to that orphanage you care so much about.

And then the smoking? I know you live forever, but wasting the herbs is ridiculous! Be mature! Smoking is not the solve for everything! You can't smoke, and you can't not be bored. It's a waste of herbs, and it's a waste of time. If you're bored from something you're waiting for, then solve it correctly, and don't waste herbs that could be used correctly.

Then, penned in with a darker ink, as if penned in at a later time, is the below.

I feel betrayed.

[FlyingSquirrel]

This includes three maps. One of Outlands, one of Eastern Kingdoms and one of Kalimdor, in that order. There's a line that begins in Nagrand and ends in Feralas.

Spoiler:

Fuckers. They all left me. Everyone but Juna. But all of them want me dead.

She said she still had them. She lied to me. She was going to try to kill me. I had to take her down. Now her buddies are going to hunt me. I have to leave. I have to leave home, again.

Ironic, how the first time I was charging, and now I am fleeing. Yet one thing connected them. I will, and would, die if I don't go. It's necessity.

So, now I run from my former friends. Fun.

[FlyingSquirrel]

This page seems a bit damper then the rest.

Spoiler:

Swamp of Sorrows lives up to its name.

Stonard was a small town, much larger when I first went through it. But, then, they didn't have Trolls knocking on their door and they had one hundred Orcs a day charging through the Swamp. Nor did they have Elves.

Still, it's good that I've been able to get here unhindered. I expect Duskwood tomorrow, if I get an early start. Stranglethorn will be fel, though.

I have to stay away from Azshara. And Desolace. There's a good chance that they'll go there, and I would not want to be found. Why else would I be running?

I wonder how their hunt is going.

[FlyingSquirrel]

I'm going to write some important parts in Bragdana's history in segments. This is him getting kicked out of his clan and going into Nagrand Wilderness around 13.

It was a normal day. The bonfire snappled and crackled, and Bragdana failed to see why they even needed a fire, on such a scorching day. His father was off with the other men, fighting the ogres that constantly threatened them. Although, most said that it was not valor that drove his heart, yet it was the thirst to avenge his mate. Bragdana's mother had been taken in the earlier raid, and his father had been one of the primary people who supported this new raid. Even Bragdana believed that revenge had been his motive.

A yell screeched through the camp, alerting everyone that the warriors had returned. Like all other children his age, Bragdana got up and ran to the Warriors. They were all standing, except for one, who was supported via stretcher. He looked at the Chief questioningly, and, at the Chief's own look, understood it.

His father was the dead one.

And suddenly, it felt like all eyes were on Bragdana. It was tribal law that anyone under 15 had to leave so the tribe would not squander resources on them. Bragdana knew this, t had been all that had been on the Young Orcs mind. He fought back the tears that gathered in his eyes and turned around, back straight and shoulders wide.

He gathered the Clefthoof Jerky that had been left to dry outside. He gathered his small tomahawk, forcing it in his belt. A few more items followed, wrapped in a blanket, so that he could carry them all. The young Orc slung the makeshift bag over his shoulder, walking out of the house. He wascareful to keep his shoulders square and his face proud.

He kept walking, until his feet were a lighter shade of brown, until his joints refused to work with him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the smoke rising in the distance, but no buildings to accent it. Only then did he sit down and cry.

Now, for the post you're actually here for!

The papers in front of it are all hastily torn out.

Spoiler:

Desolace is... desolate.

Honestly, how Trolls carve out a living in here, I have no clue. Anyways, almost there. One more day, and I'll be at my destination. Then, hopefully, I can stay there until Juna runs the Hunt into the ground, or something.

Then, maybe I can return and not have to deal with people that have the maturities of five year olds.

[FlyingSquirrel]

Joining the Horde.

Bragdana watched the cooking scraps eagerly. He had managed to hack them off of a fallen Clefthoof before the eager horde of Windrocs descended. He'd returned to his camp, setting the scraps above his meager fire and watching them cook.

He tore off one of the strips, stuffing it in his mouth. He swallowed, nodding to himself contently and tearing off the scraps. Slowly, he chewed them each down.

He wouldn't last much longer like this. His tomahawk was dulling, his flint and tinder were dwindling, his blanket was thinning. But, as his parents had ironed into him, he would not give up until he was done. Done, in this case, meaning dead. He'd tried to keep his thoughts from dieing, though, and thus, he still held a positive outlook on life.

Leaning back and pulling the rags he called a blanket over him, he sighed. One last glance at the world, then he closed his eyes.

A warhorn blundered across the land, and Bragdana jumped, nearly falling from the tree branch. Peering at the area from whence the sound came, he quickly rolled up what he had, stamping on the fire.

Clan... or Hunting group...

Carrying his package in one hand, dulled tomahawk in the other, he crept to the nearby road and knelt by a bush. Minutes passed, and, finally, the young Orc noticed a group of green skin Orcs trooping down the road. His breathing shallowed, his body stiffened and his eyes widened. Slowly, they approached.

Of course, of all times for a wind to go through his branch, a wind did, indeed, go through his branch. The rustling alerted the group, who noticed the spot of brown. Before Bragdana could move, a hand seized his arm and yanked him out of the bush. He dropped his tomahawk and looked at the people. They looked at him, before breaking out laughing.

Bah, he was. The man broke out in laughter, before regaining himself, Bah, kid, come with us. The Green Orc dropped him, and Bragdana fell to a knee. Already, they were trooping off. Bragdana, feeling no other choice, went with them.

Journal teim. After I go feed my ducks.

Kay back.

Spoiler:

I could become a hermit.

A goblin on the road sold me wooden chair. Although I disagree with the umbrella, it's definitely useful. Gives me a nice view of Feralas, from up here on the pillar. The umbrella does have it's uses, as it rains in Feralas quite a lot. I suppose life here isn't so bad.

I've been serving the world for about 35 years now. I think it's time for a little peace and quiet.

[FlyingSquirrel]

First Kill

Snap. Bragdana ignored the snapping of the twig underfoot, eyes focused on the lumbering figures ahead. Once again, in amazement, he looked at his own hand. It had become a dull green. His eyes rose up his arm, still amazed at the changes that had happened at what felt like a second.

A break in the forest came, a smoldering Draeneic farm came into view. It was the first Draeneic house that Bragdana could see, and he was amazed, gently grazing the floating crystals. The leader of the group, a man known as Balgak, barked some commands and the smaller of the Orcs scurried off, searching through the ruins. Bragdana looked up at Balgak, his head tilted to the side.

A cry broke through the forest.

An Orc bent over, clutching his stomach as blood and intestines seeped through his fingers.

Another Orc caught a Draenei girl from behind, ripping out her murder weapon, a simple knife. Balgak barked another command, and the scouts accumulated, carrying the struggling girl into the forest. The leader pinched his nose, turning to look at the young Orc who he had taken under his wing. Bra-- His talking was cut off by a cry from the Draenei, Bragdana, did you ever fight a Draenei? Have you gone through your manhood ritual? The youngling shook his head to both of the questions, and Balgak grinned, only a few teeth visible in his mouth. We'll fix both of those now, then.

He patted Bragdana's back, the young boy flinching at the contact. Roughly grabbing him by the shoulder, the elder pulled him to the area where the Draenei was. Barking another short command, the peons peeled away from her.

The Draenei pushed herself up, glaring at the elder Orc. He grinned widely, giving Bragdana a push and a shout, KILL HER! Bragdana barreled into the naked Draenei, sending them both to the ground. Chants rung through the small area the whole group had fit into, and Bragdana looked at the Draenei, doubt evident.

Kill her! Another firm hand found his back, and pushed him towards the Draenei. He stumbled to his target, plopping down next to her. The chants rang in his ears and he climbed on top of her, sitting down on her stomach. She, of course, objected, sending a few punches at his chest. He shrugged this off, slowly leaning forward and putting both thumbs against her neck. He slid his fingers, oddly gentle, under her neck and forced his hands to close in, leaning farther down as he choked her.

Her punches became weaker and weaker, and, slowly, they altogether stopped. She stopped moving, yet, as Balgak had taught him, she wasn't dead yet. He panted, chest expanding and collapsing for no apparent reason. A unanimous cheer broke through the silence, and Bragdana received many claps on the back, and a tomahawk. Take your prize, brother.

He stared at the recently killed Draenei, and, with no other ideas, rose the axe above his head, severing the head in a couple of blows. Her eyes were still open, and Bragdana rose the new trophy, roaring as he held it above his head.

Spoiler:

Aroes found me. So, I decided to leave. I managed to get to Gadgetzan, which I think will be a good place to lie low. I can't let them know where I'm at.

I also decided to give up my axe. Mooma and Urzhad brought up a good point. I've had it for 25 years now, so I think that it's time for a new one. So, naturally, I went with the best resource I had- Earth. I got a ball with a handle, and lava inside. I like how it feels, but it just doesn't feel the same.

Hopefully, people will leave me alone in Un'goro.