Veritas

[DaveM]

The scroll, hastily written in barely legible charcoal writing, is dropped in a corner of the minimal-comfort den-like chamber.

"As instructed by Master Vinebend, I am to log all prolonged shifts into humanoid form, to aid in preventing the wilding, to keep far from going feral. This is my third entry scroll of the first month of logging.

They dislike the truth. Or parts of it. The Ash Wardens, meritous organisation that they are, and that I am now a part of - took pointed collective offense at my repeated, albeit verging on barracking, underlining of the "dead" quality of their death knight friend and colleague. She minds, and they mind, that I call her "dead" "corpse" "pustule of morbid energy" - yet all of those things she is, by the Scourge's yet unreversed design. Despite many of them being of considerable age, much elder to mine, it seems that their gathered conclusion is that the truth is not for all occasions. Would they work with a well-intentioned satyr?

What, at the end of the day, creates the offense, is reaction. They're offended because she's offended. She's offended because she senses it as wrong. If she didn't, she'd of reacted with other than offended indifference. "Yes, brother, I am dead - like the stone around Darnassuss, and like it, I shall eternally defend it.", "Yes, brother, like you channel life, I channel death and, like you, I seek to integrate my way into the balance of nature's cycle." Those would have been answers I can respect. Yet as long as she feels guilty, that itself makes her still the abomination.

Oh dear, and Nuadon and her Warden father-boyfriend. If ever daddy issues danced on the face of a relationship, that is it. Anyway, Elune bless their... whatever it is. The female of their resident druid couple took special offense at my 'truth-calling'. Mated to the very core as she seems to be, that there might prove to be a fun tumble when it comes to. Nothing like true spite to get the instinct-juices flowing. Got 'shodes' from a cartel-peddeler. These will prove endlessly useful in the light-blasted lands outside kal'dorei lands.

Alas, at the end of the day, I'm not with these Ashes chiefly to make friends. In matters martial, I'll give them full unbridled professionalism and discipline. The truth, I'll keep saying until it becomes seeded into the soil of their social conceptions and grow into a next healthy generation of thought.

The night's shift went well, I can only assume. I feel it was fun and satisfying. I do believe there was extensive caressing again. Good cat. Nuadon's scent is about it all, yet another's more powerfully. The array of tastes gathered in my mouth by morning, however, might be the slightest cause for worry. The usual. But also plants. And ... green hairs. And something slimy. Bad cat."

[DaveM]

The scribbles upon this second scroll are barely legible, the writing broken and hectic. Moreover, several cuts, some of which triple and parallel, tatter the parchement. A little can still be made out.

" THE dream.

Return BLISS - HOME Truth. Sick and in need of savage healing. PETAL TOKEN.

Returned again. For her. DREAMLADY. Holds gate. To - from DREAMHOME. She IS DREAM. Is home.

VINeBenD and his ilk AFRAID OF ESSENCE.
DEEP DREAMER TRUTH. Waraens follov, if roar.
NNNot before emerald wing-soul.

AszignEd thE feathEr-soULEd. Follow the feather-souled. Her assign.

Only half-kal'. Change slow, long beast time unhinged. Writing - claws, wrists not."

After a gap, towards the end of the page, where the parchement is mostly whole, the writing becomes more cursive.

"I only return to these two legs so as not to forget how to return to them. I go through this pain because my duty to the Dream, and perhaps to the Ashen, might need me in this form I was born with. This way of being yet remains so unfammiliar. I do not welcome the wilding, yet it is a half-way to being back in the Dream, and it is within the dream that I want to melt, once t'would be healed.

Telih. Do not forget to keep returning, until the Green Lady says it is time to stay."

[DaveM]

Deep in Felwood, a tree-trunk is broken and onto the exposed part of its insides, broken letters can be made out.

TWOFOOT WLK DUTY