How to Make a Monster

[PvtFrog]

The entry would be written in a dark ink-like liquid with a strong acrid odor.

It's been a while since I've written in this, though lately my thoughts have not been pleasant. Do you remember brother? When we were still children, running in the forests with our friends. We thought that it would just be us six for the rest of time, that no matter what, we would preservere. How wrong we were. I still remember that day, when I lost you and father. As if I had the chance to forget, with it playing itself over and over while I sleep. Perhaps it is a symptom of madness, or perhaps it is regret. Recently the dreams have been changing though, I dream that I ran back for you and father. But whenever I get close, the dream ends and I'm watching me blind myself, or I wake up. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if our roles had been reversed, that I had been the one slain and you had become the hunter. Would mother have approved? She always did favor you over me, even I could tell. Would you have smiled and called her a friend back? Perhaps the time I spent in Shadowmoon has frayed my nerves and my sanity. I recall always yearning for friendship and company, but when I am finally offered the chance I only slink away. I am scared of it, I fear it with every cell of my body. Would I be able to run back to save someone from a certain death? Or more importantly, would you be able to do that, brother? It's been several years since I've been in Ashenvale, I promise to visit you more often, when I am not busy. There is a Warden here though, I must take care lest I be locked up. Soon, brother, we will have the chance to talk again.

[PvtFrog]

Taladir hums to himself, flipping open the pages of the tattered book. The man dips the quill into the small vial of felblood, beginning to write.

I've met with more of my kind today brother. The one that cut off my hand still hasn't given his name, or maybe I've never been there to hear it. Somehow we've secured a temporary alliance with a warden by the name of Ironraven. I say temporary, because this will never last. It is a temporary calm before a storm. We operate too differently to truly coexist with each other. They are the flower petals that everyone admires while we are the dirt encrusted roots that everyone forgets about. We had a moment where we all talked, and bickered. It was as if we weren't outcasts that society feared, and hated. I daresay my social skills are improving too. I think I finally know what it means to be at peace, a truly odd feeling, brother. It is as if all the weight that you carry was lifted off your shoulders, an odd but relieving sensation. The Horde is growing bolder as the days pass, even daring to claim certain areas as their own. As much as it angers me, I will try my best to not incite conflict over petty matters. You wouldn't have wanted this, I don't think. I will do my best to stay true to what you would've done in my position, and as best as my profession will allow me to. Soon, I will venture into Astranaar again to stock up on supplies and much needed equipment. I've been running low on bandages as of late...

The rest of the page is filled with crossed out jokes regarding Demon Hunters and Wardens.

[PvtFrog]

Written in the same dark and foul smelling liquid as the previous entries, this one is scrawled messily as if the writer was in a hurry.

How long it's been since I've gazed upon my own ruined sockets. I'm sure you remember brother, the pride and joy our family had when they saw the color of my eyes. What was once a yellow-brown color now lie blackened sockets. A constant reminder of what has gone by and cannot ever be reclaimed. Sometimes, a part of me wishes that I could have my eyes restored and the markings on my body seared off. The fel taint in my body cleansed and my glaives shattered. Perhaps then, I can live the life that we always wanted. The clothing that you wore when you were struck down have been replaced, but perhaps it is not as bad as it seems. It is a change, and a welcome one at that. The female that I had met a while ago, Kalah, had offered me a change of clothing. It was the first time that somebody has ever done something like that, especially for what I am. She reminds me of what we once were. I didn't expect it... and thankfully she had to rest, else I fear I would've been reduced to tears in front of her. I wouldn't have expected myself to be reduced to tears from such an act, but perhaps it was the simplicity of it. The fact that she had did it unconditionally. It reminds me that there are still good people in this world. It reminds me that Azeroth isn't beyond saving...