Responsibility

There are few things that aggravate me more than rudeness. Or rather, disrespect for those that deserve to be esteemed.

Particularly when one is accountable for the well-being of another, whether as their protector, their master, lover, friend, ally, or all of these, proper behavior demonstrates just how much value you believe that individual possesses. If you do not show this regard, then you are saying that this person is not important.

An example of proper behavior includes defending and providing for those that you are responsible for.  The alpha in a wolf pack has the right to command the others, but also lends his strength to theirs when they are in danger. No matter the source of the fault.

An example of improper behavior, that I have been thinking much on recently, is when a husband abandons his pregnant wife in the months leading up to the birth of his child. I am observing this situation at present with Velvet and her beau, and I am extremely displeased.

Urukha

Urukha is a friend of mine. She is an orc huntress with a cat named Bastia. She crafts boar stuffed pies and chocolate-covered apples, and shares them generously.

She has requested that I play a role in the lifemating ceremony between her and Pip. The responsibility involves standing with them and ensuring with blade and armor that Pip does not flee. From what I understand of Pip’s character, the chance of this duty being activated is low.

While I have agreed to do this, I carry several concerns. Foremost the worry that I will in some way disappoint. I am not made for merrymaking, or really, providing any sort of satisfaction that does not involve the weapons I carry. But it is quite important that I make the attempt.

Another concern is my outsider status with the Tribe that Uru belongs to. While it is her decision who to include and what to require of them, it remains very clear to me that I am not one of them. My position is always precarious. Because of this, it would not do to affront the honor of another that would have been more suitable or qualified.

After all, the cat that has been mauled by dogs does not rest easily with wolves.

Scholomance

I ventured into the ruined castle of Scholomance to continue my search.  After learning that the box that I was looking for was rather small, and having found no evidence leading to any other location, it seemed prudent to investigate here next.

The denizens of the place, both of the living and nonliving variety were not pleased with my visit but they were of little consequence. I was rather determined to come away with at least some small object in order to demonstrate that I was doing as I had promised.

In the assembly hall, on one of the bookshelves, I found this small box. It is a glossy sable color and richly covered with intricate patterns.  Within it were black cards. With this I returned.

Now I wait to see what this divination will reveal, and whether more violence will be required before we are able to find peace.

Nicknames

Good morning, journal.


One activity that amuses me is the assignment of nicknames to various members of my acquaintance. These are not superficial, but a great deal of energy goes into creating them.


Some samples of these names include The Holy One, Darkrider, Little Wolf, Bladehelm, Shadowstep, Whiteclaw, Velvet, Sunflower and Mouse.


And the most important one of all of these, my Dark Angel.


Each was created for a different reason. Not all were made for friends. But none is a sign of disrespect; given the amount of time that sometimes is involved in crafting them it would not be efficient to toss them about like a petulant child throwing handfuls of mud. Although I admit that Bladehelm's was created in haste out of a wish to remain in good standing with the Little Wolf, as they were paired. And there are more that I wish to assign, but have been preoccupied.


I may write more of these specific individuals at a later time.

Angry Fish

Good evening, journal.

A day or so ago I met a rather angry fish. I do not know the name of the fish, but it was the sort with multiple flexible arms and a head in the shape of a balloon. I should know what it is called but there are no books here regarding undersea wildlife; at least that I can recall. Perhaps I will ask one of my acquaintances to still my curiosity.

It was angry because I was in its home. A great sunken galleon in Vashj'ir, near the edge of the precipice. This fish took offense at my presence and exerted a great deal of energy in its attempt to eat me. It damaged my neck and arm but did not succeed. However, I also did not succeed in finding what I was looking for.

My arm did not heal as quickly as I am accustomed, which caused some concern. I was also not able to meet with Pip to see it fully restored, but that is just as well. She is occupied with important business of her own. 

I wonder if she has a recipe for angry fish.

Orgrimmar

Orgrimmar is too bloody hot.

The sun beats down upon it incessantly, and even at night the earth remembers the heat and radiates it up underneath your feet. But it is a good place to be if one wishes to be social with more than one's own race. That is not to say that residual tensions do not flare daily, but that is true within any social environment. Close quarters and closed minds inspire violence. 

The heat and the tempers make me grumpy at times.

First Entry

It seems eminently unwise to me to commit my thoughts to paper. But it was suggested that it may assist me, and how can I refuse? I will likely not include too many details due to the chance of this reaching unfriendly eyes.


Where to begin? 


Good morning, journal.


My apologies for the penmanship. I am unused to writing and so it appears that a spider fell into the ink and skittered its way across the parchment. I was not designed to be a scholar and so my training in this sense was lax. It may improve with practice.


Who am I? Such a simple question with no satisfactory answer. For now, however, it will suffice to say that I am a woman, an Elf and a death knight. Not the pathetic, prissy, prancing sort that flaunts and sobs her way around Silvermoon. I am a soldier. Each day I fight for the Horde and for myself. And, of course...