Frog Venom

Last night in Orgrimmar, a troll of the Tribe named Jeh'k offered home-brewed Frog Venom to the group of us. Urukha and I had our share, and she eventually went to sleep there beneath the tree. Unfortunately, she mistook my nearby presence for Pip’s and I had trouble detaching her. Westel assisted with our eventual separation, and then I flew her back to her home.

Pip was away with a new mission. I do not know the details but am concerned. There is a demon involved, and that makes me anxious. But it is not of the same variety that caused Mirtai's current ailment.

Vivvienne delivered to me a new hood that she fashioned. I did not realize how much I missed the old, until I no longer had it. I am very pleased with it, and feel as though I am myself again, in a way. Without it, I received far too much attention.


Tonight is Hallow's End. Today, I hunt candy.

Paladins

I do not like paladins. This appears to be a concept that many understand, but do not accept. They are arrogant, abrasive, and more often than not, they lack the chivalry that is supposed to be synonymous with their profession.

Most seem to assume that my dislike arises from being a Death Knight, and the rather opposite ways we employ power. But it is not just this. Paladins are responsible for a great deal of the injuries that I have received. Primarily, the Holy One. There was also a group that came close to my former residence and I was forced to use violence to defend the place. I was damaged severely.

On occasion I meet a paladin who is determined to sway my view by demonstrating their own supposed valor. One in particular, Yana, stubbornly succeeded in garnering some of my respect. But most fail rather spectacularly, much to my amusement. Another, who apparently aided when I was felled by Shadowstep, makes attempts at conversation. He is improving. But my general opinion remains.

Sister

This is what the Regent called me. She said that while I may not have undergone the official process of joining, I am in the eyes of many Tribe members a Tribesmate myself.

I do not know what to think of this. For so long I have valued my independence; it was something taken from me and was extremely difficult to restore. But when I claimed to be alone, even Shadowstep argued that I still had family in the Tribe.

If my enemy saw this easily, why do I struggle to acknowledge it? Am I concerned that the interests of the Regent or the Tribe will interfere with my personal ventures? Am I afraid of what they may think of me, or ask me to do? That I will be forced to obey a command?

That I would welcome any directive or authority at all?

Perhaps I am not so different from Mirtai, who grapples daily with the loss of the Master. ----No, that is foolish. I am nothing like her.

Night Two, Finale

It is done. Shadowstep came to the meeting place last night and I vanquished her utterly. I am damaged again, but quite content to bear these wounds in exchange for her demise.

I arrived and she was waiting for me, but was hidden and out of reach. She appeared and I began to speak of my surrender in exchange for mercy. She descended and drew nearer until she was close enough to strike.

Her bloodied shirt I presented as a trophy to Urukha, and later reported to the Regent directly on what occurred. Both were pleased to different degrees, but were satisfied.

I am quite overwhelmed. Shadowstep, my old enemy, is gone.

Night One

Shadowstep did not appear last night. I must admit some feelings of relief, but concern as well. I was overjoyed to return home intact, but I do not know if my plan will succeed.

It is having some effect, though. Urukha spotted the notice and confronted me before I went. She asked if I needed any help, and I declined. Truthfully, I was surprised that she did not ask what it was I planned to do. But I still think it best to face the rogue alone, to not spook her or endanger anyone else.

The Plan

Today I begin. I will travel to Brill in Tirisfal and post a public notice to Shadowstep, as I am certain she has contacts there that know my name. I will offer peace, and then will see if I can dispel the threat from her.

No others have I told of this, because she is cunning and will suspect an ambush. I must be alone with her in order to succeed. This is what I post:

Notice to the Shadow:

I seek to meet with you to discuss 

the terms of my surrender.

For the next three nights I will wait at 

the cold hearth. After, I cannot guarantee 

your survival, as you are hunted.

No danger will be brought there. 

My only wish is to speak.

-Annjia

Motivation

I am calculating a plan to resolve the situation with Shadowstep. 

While I was injured and incapacitated, D.A. hunted in my stead. I was very distressed when I learned this, as they tend to avoid combat, or any activity that might involve dirt. By them taking this risk, I felt that I had failed my duty to protect them. I somehow slept through it all and could not stop them.

It would not have needed to happen had I not been attacked. If I had nullified the threat from Shadowstep before all of this, the circumstances would be different at present. This is why I must conclude this hostility by any means.

But first, the rogue must be found.

Update #1

I was able to speak briefly with Velvet regarding her situation. While I do not know her current feelings toward her husband, I expressed that in the event of conflict, my concern was for her and the tiny one in her womb. She seemed pleased with this. She is also increasingly uncomfortable as the child grows inside her.


In situations like these I do not normally project my opinion or what side I favor until I am aware of who the superior force is. However, my opinion is rather firm on this, which confuses me a bit.

I returned the book about the Magi of Uz to Vindy. I am still not certain why the Western Witch was so disliked.

My hair has returned to its typical color, and I am hunting again.


((Two lines are blotted out))

Burning Tusk Tribe

((A more recent entry is scribbled across the top: )) This entry is no longer relevant, as most of those described have not been seen or are no longer associated with the Tribe. Including myself for the latter.


The Tribe I refer to fairly often, as there are many of its members that I am acquainted with. It is the wolf pack. This name I give it originated with the Little Wolf, who enjoyed their protection and comradery.

That fellowship is nearly universal between the other members, from what I have witnessed, and some of it extends to me. I am not a member, but as Urukha scratched out to me in the dirt: “You are like family.”

There are a few other members I should mention.

Coilla, the Little Wolf. She was the first member of the Tribe I became acquainted with. She is an orc magess with a love of books and romance.

Birodil, a hunter. He is quiet, and has always been kind toward me. Despite his soft-spoken demeanor there is a streak of humor in him, as I once saw him don a pink dress for one of the Tribe’s theatrical events.

Anannia, a strange woman, as I have mentioned before. She is friendly and open, and while she does say a few things that perplex me, she appears to harbor no ill feelings toward the world or anyone in it. She has taking to asking me if I remember her. Of course, I do.

Westël, a man who is accompanied by a different woman each time I see him. Even the Regent seems susceptible to his charms on occasion. Fortunately, after his initial failed pass on me, he seems to have decided to ignore me. 

Fizcrank, a goblin that is considerate and shrewd. He is not always talkative, but when he does speak, it is with respect and with an observant gaze.

Vindy, an elven woman with a refreshingly robust work ethic, and ability to make conversation. She lent a storybook from her childhood to me, and has aspirations to become an Arch Magistrix. She may still be irritated with me for not dancing with her at the masquerade.

Mama Ello, a trolless who appears to have some age and wisdom to her. The others defer to her and she behaves in a motherly way toward them.

Do’xian, a small troll who guards his personal space with vigor. He displays a great interest in reading, yet does pay some attention to his surroundings.

Quanah, a somewhat rotund Tauren who enjoys food. As you may expect, he and Pip get along famously.

Gren’mazi, a troll tattoo artist. I first encountered him at the Fire Festival when he was applying artwork to the guests. He appears to have great talent for it, and is equally shy.

Adurak , an orc mage. He possesses a mushroom chair and a great ability to dance. He is interested in studying the stars.

Dune, Pip’s second for the lifemating ceremony. We may not have been introduced yet, but I have heard his name mentioned. He is a Tauren.

My apologies for the length of this entry. There are others that I know, but I did not realize there were quite so many. It is a large Tribe.

Death Knights

What is a ‘real’ death knight? As with Forsaken, there seem to be many variations on undead soldiers and their relative rate of decay and dissolution.  I believe this depends on the manner in which they died, how long ago their death occurred, and how they were subsequently raised.

I have heard rumors of some knights that did not, in fact, perish before they were raised. But this seems to be rare, and likely other grievous damage was done to them if their lives were not stolen. Some knights retain their original memories, personality and coloring. Some are little more than walking weapons, angry at the world and all that lives around them.  And still others think of nothing but sex, and satisfying their desires.

The purpose I was raised for required that I be mostly intact, though I cannot bear children. I am well versed in warfare, indulgence, and to a lesser extent, society. It is a marvelous form, truly. Albeit unnatural, and unwanted.

This, I believe, is what signifies a death knight. Something precious: identity, control, self-determination, or even our soul, was stolen from or deprived us. We were designed to battle, and then be discarded. Now that the creator of this armored shell has died, collectively, we search for purpose.

I found mine.

Dyed

Dying my hair to black was a mistake. It is extremely difficult to go from a dark extreme to light, and so now my hair exhibits some middle color each time it is washed. I think that D.A. is too noble to laugh at my expense, but I see that stifled grin. I suppose I could have heeded the warning they gave me.

I refuse to unleash more chemicals in order to restore it, lest it become worse. The snowy hue is unnatural to begin with, due to my undeath. But I am accustomed to it and wish to see it returned.

I wonder what color it was when I was alive.

Masquerade

Good morning, journal.

Last night I attended a Hallow's End masquerade hosted by the Tribe. The Regent, Whiteclaw, and Pip were there at the least, as well as Talil and several others that I am acquainted with. There were a few that I did not recognize, or were heavily concealed by costume.

I regret my performance. I did not know that there would be dancing, and so when we were randomly paired with others, I declined to. Vindy, an elven woman that I have chatted with several times recently, was my partner and did not seem to approve. I asked Ana, a strange woman, who was also one of the organizers, to be removed so I would not disappoint another.

For this masquerade, I dressed in the fashion of a Darkfallen, one of the Lich King's undead elven minions, although I do not think it was recognized. My white hair I dyed black. Today my goal is to reverse this.

Shadowstep

This rogue and I have been at odds for some time. For two years now, we have exchanged blows and insults. Our enmity seems irreversible.

We did once attempt to work together for our mutual benefit, but this did not end well. After we agreed to the deal, I was commanded to entrap her lover in order to ensure her cooperation. Nearly at that same moment, she kidnapped Mirtai. Apparently she believed that I could not be trusted, either.

My orders then changed to rescue and return my rival safely. When we came to the exchange, the prisoners were released, and then Shadowstep summoned allies to ambush me. An unknown troll rogue, the Holy One, and the fearsome Darkrider. I retreated in shame. We still fight on scattered occasions, never to any resolution.

I wish to repay her for the injury and poison. But first, I must find her. Perhaps she believes that I am dead.

Antidote

Good afternoon, journal.


After the repeated appeals of Pip and Urukha, I summoned the strength to travel to Booty Bay in order to be treated. 


The process was nearly as terrible as the original injury. Pip injected me with unstable, unknown substances into my spine and kidneys. I allowed it because I have observed her heal before. I do not know what she did to acquire this antidote.


After, I felt very weak and warm, warmer than the typical Stranglethorn jungle heat would affect. Both of them remained with me. Shortly after, my energy rebounded and I was able to return home, but the heat remains. In addition, my stomach will not settle now.


The pain, however, has ceased and for this I am very grateful. I trust it will not be long before I return to the battlefield.

Tired

Good morning, journal.

I am tired, but improved. I will write more on what has occurred later.

Good night, journal.

Almost Dead Lady

I am called Almost Dead Lady by several members of the Tribe, or Mostly Dead Lady. This originated with Whiteclaw, and was adopted by Pip.

To be clear, I am rather opposed to dying. But it has happened before.

Urukha claimed that when we pass, we journey to the stars. Whether we are good or evil with our lives affects only the time it takes to reach our destination. She thought that the first step on this journey is to forgive oneself.

 I do not remember the stars. And there is a new, troubling development: I am not certain if I am well enough to hunt now.

Confined

I am not well enough to leave the house. I attempted to but was argued down. I cannot refuse when D.A. implores me to remain.

I dispatched Mirtai to see Pip and the others for any solutions they may have. I was reluctant to, because she has also endured much. Unfortunately, it did not go well. She was threatened, and they refused to give her what they had crafted. She wept when she returned, and I could not bear to send her out again.

I composed a letter and stated my position. I cannot leave. No one can come here.

It even hurts to bloody write. 

Downed

Journal,

I am damaged. I was on my way from Orgrimmar to home, with the full dinner that Pip prepared. I had intended for it to be a pleasant evening, to enjoy our reward. Then a dagger came from the sky.

I do not recall falling from my drake into the river, nor Whiteclaw pulling me out and summoning the Tribe. I awoke and was being held down to the ground so that I would not struggle, while they attempted to close the wound and cleanse the poison. I fully admit that without the assistance, I likely would not have survived.

Glen's nose had the scent of my attacker. Shadowstep. That blasted rogue has disrupted me before, too many times.

One poison is cured, the second remains. It is painful.

More later, being checked again.

My Dark Angel

Who is D.A.? An intelligent, stunning, vivacious and perfect individual.

Did you really think that I would tell you more? Naughty journal.

Presents

I enjoy giving gifts. The hunt to acquire prizes is quite invigorating as well. I believe my pleasure originates from not receiving as many of my own during the first years of my existence. Or rather, that the gifts I received were intended to encourage me toward violence and this is not always agreeable. I now have the power to correct this.

Some of the gifts I give frequently are books, wine, and anything remotely related to studying and comfort. Recently I have begun bringing small things to Mirtai. She expressed that she liked the color red, which oddly I did not know before. I suppose I never asked.

One larger endeavor of mine for D.A. involved stealing the floating candles from the cities during the fire festival and bringing them home to re-decorate the place where we lived then. The wreaths were frightfully difficult to manipulate, and one of them escaped on the lake.

It was, however, worth every effort. I have another gift that I have not yet presented, but am waiting for a moment that seems most appropriate.

Repaired

Good evening, journal.

The house is nearly whole again. The tree is reduced to kindling and all of the windows are replaced. There is a bit more to do to make it perfect, but I am satisfied. As a matter of fact, some pieces of the tree now burn pleasantly in the fireplace. Where they belong.

It would have taken a great deal longer if I had not received assistance from an unexpected source: Mirtai. Though she does not possess much strength, she was quite willing to help with the labor. D.A., of course, did not touch a leaf. But magic cleared away all of the debris in the house, down to the tiniest shard of glass.

We did not quarrel over the repairs, and all contributed according to their ability. I am very pleased. I shall think of some way to reward us all, apart from once again having a sound house.

Memories

To remember events, places, people that you have encountered, and their habits and trials. Memories make up so much of our identity that we hardly acknowledge that they do – until they are disrupted.

What would cause someone to forget their lover, one of the most important individuals in their life? Pip appears burdened with this question at present. I am told that her former lifemate has returned to Orgrimmar and claims no knowledge of Pip or their time together. She knows her own name, but shows no interest in re-learning anything at all related to Pip.

I speculate that the behavior may be false, and that she does remember, but chooses to distance herself. However if she truly cannot remember, it is still distressing to those who do.

Yet I envy it. Regardless of how or whether her memories were lost, they are still accessible through others. I possess a great capacity to remember, but have no reference beyond a specific point. One month from today, I will have been raised for three years. I have no memory of anything prior.

And the only man who could have had the answers to why, and what happened, has just died.

Damage

Good morning, journal.


There is more damage to the house than I realized. Not only does the glass in the windows need to be replaced, but also the window frames and part of the wall. It will take much time and energy to make it as it was.

I refuse to be bested by fallen foliage. I am trying to contain my frustration, but it is difficult. I should have been more vigilant.

In addition, I was not able to hunt yesterday due to the clean-up and this vexes me. I must go out and succeed today.

Storm

Good morning, journal.

Last night a storm toppled a large tree. Fortunately, the body of the tree missed the house, but the branches destroyed several windows and damaged the outer wall. This occurred while we were attempting to sleep in our beds. It startled us all awake.

I write this at D.A.’s desk because there is still a great deal of glass on the floor in the bedroom, and I am heeding their entreaty (for once) to be careful. I will write more later, as there is work that must be done now.

Puzzle Pieces

Someone once called me a puzzle. They were complaining in a mild way about how I am rather opaque about my activities and motivations. When I countered that not all of the pieces were present, she replied, "Oh I know I've got a lot of pieces missing. Some of them perhaps lost forever, but eventually I'll collect enough and get them put together to get an idea of what the picture is."

I have not seen this person for some time now. While I will not comment on the irony of their sporadic contact, this metaphor intrigued me. Is it possible to form a complete image of someone?

Some pieces are, quite rightly, kept secret. Others are readily visible. And others may seem obvious, but are actually disguised. I believe that by myself, there are too many pieces that are lost and hidden to complete the puzzle.

What I discovered these many months is that the lonely pieces of one individual may intersect with another’s rather nicely. And theirs with another beyond that. For those like myself who started with missing pieces, this is one way to feel complete.

The Regent

Two days ago I was pulled aside by the Regent of the Burning Tusk Tribe. We walked through Orgrimmar to the gate at the Valley of Wisdom and chatted. It was not all idle banter, however.

Westly is the regent, or acting leader of the Tribe. She coordinates many of the events and always displays an interest in the affairs of her subjects. She has the capacity to observe many details that others overlook.

She explained that she was concerned for her Tribe and monitored who they acquaint with, and who they trust. This was why she mentioned ‘getting to know’ me a bit better.

That I went back and retrieved Whiteclaw when he was separated from the group during the boar hunt was also mentioned. It was natural of me to do so, but she seemed to think it worthy of ‘accolades.’

I must tread carefully. She is the alpha of the wolf pack, and I but the little black cat that sits at the entrance. Whiteclaw told me that I was over-reacting.

Apple Tree

Good morning, journal.

Since bringing the Tribe to the orchard south of Stormwind during the boar hunt, guard activity has increased noticeably. This is made it a bit more difficult and dangerous to pilfer apples and hunt in that vicinity.

Because I do not wish to lose this resource, I have altered my method. In addition to stealing apples, I dug out one of the seedlings and brought it home. This I placed on the sunny side of the house.

I am hopeful that it will grow. If it is successful, I will look for others.

Velvet

I have mentioned Velvet before when expounding my view of responsibility. She is a friend, an Elf, who is married and with child. I suspect that she is a warlock although I have never seen her utilize her magic or call a companion. But the scent of it is on her, and her hands bear marks of it.

She is a tailor, inspiring her nickname. She crafted a stuffed animal object for me. It was a small white cat with golden eyes and a black nose, and I was rather fond of it. It has since met with an interesting fate, but that is not relevant here.

Her real name is Vivvienne, and she is married to a man named Talil. I do not like him. From the first time I encountered him, he consistently displayed a lack of respect and regard for her, culminating in his inexcusable absence in recent weeks. He was away for more than a month, though it was soon after their wedding and before her childbirth.

I saw him in Orgrimmar yesterday evening, without her. I greatly desire to censure him, to defame him publically. But I hesitate out of concern for Vivvienne. He is her husband and her choice. I do not know her thoughts.

Before his return, I requested that Whiteclaw make inquiries in to what Velvet requires. She had expressed to me that she was lonely, and that the servants in her household were agitated. However, I expect that she will not approach me for assistance. Nor am I certain what help I could provide that was appropriate. I am not her champion. But neither is her husband.

Mirtai

Mirtai is the unwanted guest in my house. She is an Elf with dark hair and attractive features. We are not friends.

Three weeks ago she appeared on the edge of my property, unwelcomed. I treated her as an intruder, and she did not fight back. But my temper hardened the blow I inflicted on her, and I regret the damage done. I did not know that she could not defend herself.

She and I share a painful history that I will not recount here. Desperation was her sole motivation in seeking me out. She was stripped of her powers, and as a result, suffered abuse at the hands of the ‘mortals’ she despises. No other person in this world did she have, apart from me.

I loathed her before. I believe she reciprocates this sentiment. But I pity her, and agreed to protect her, or to kill her if she misbehaves. I offered her a clean death before and she declined. A part of me now wishes that she would disobey, so that I could end her misery and assuage my guilt.

Now, under these circumstances I have promised not only to guard and provide for her, but to reconcile. Mirtai: my rival, my enemy. No longer does she have the superiority, and she knows this. We will see if what I have learned of compassion these many months will serve to heal her grief. And heal me, as well.

Twilight Jasmine

Good afternoon, journal.


During my venture today, I discovered a jasmine flower in the Highlands. These flowers are a lovely iridescent purple, and are not common. I was following a dwarf back to his hovel to ensure that he would not interfere with my hunt when I spotted a hint of color in the grass.

After dispatching the dwarf I returned to that spot and retrieved the flower. It had to be transported carefully, because flowers are delicate, and I did not wish for its scent to dissipate or it be damaged when placed in my satchel with other items.

I brought the flower home to D.A. and I enjoyed their reaction.

Pip

Pip is a troll shamaness that I have mentioned before. She is engaged to Urukha, and is an excellent cook. When she speaks Orcish, I have some difficulty understanding her because of her accent. Mine sometimes confuses her in turn. And, whenever I use a complex word, she believes I am sneezing.


She feels a great need to feed anyone that is around her. Thinking that as an Elf, I lack nutrition, she provides various edibles nearly every time we meet. I do enjoy chocolate and other sweet things, and so I find this quite agreeable. She provides boxes to conveniently transport any extras home as well. I have not told her what happens to the contents of those boxes, however, apart from that they are consumed. And this, at least, is true.


In addition, while I am ill qualified to act as an instructor, she requested that I try to teach her how to read. I understand that she has sustained some damage and this prevented her from learning before, but was eager to continue trying. I calculated a different way of presenting the letters, and Pip felt that it was successful.


While she strives to use my real name, she also calls me Almost Dead Lady. This moniker, or something similar to it, was created by Whiteclaw. I do not mind it, though it is, I hope, inaccurate.

Raw Divination

Good morning, journal.


The divination of the cards gave me a great deal to think on these several days. I am in a situation that I did not create directly, but my actions and desires brought it about. The problem is bounded by lies and decisions made in haste. According to the cards, there is the potential for great happiness if I am vigilant. If I am not, I may lose all.

What is this problem? I have inherited something that I never wished for, and have lost what is familiar to me. The freedom I enjoy now may not have been true, as well. Because of all this, I must determine what direction to take now. I decided that this begins with the unwanted guest in my house, and how I will treat her.

I will act with kindness toward her, despite our animosity. I want to be stronger than my fears and my hatred. I am fairly certain that I will regret this, but again, as with Urukha's request, I must make the attempt. Both of us have lost much. And she has lost far more than I.

Whiteclaw

There is a friend of mine, a handsome troll, called Whiteclaw. He is known as Glenshadow to others. His mane is an impressive ivory color. His nickname originated because as a druid, he sometimes takes the form of a great cat with a white crown of hair.

Our relationship is an interesting one because both of us understand and employ deadly power quite often. We know it is necessary in order to protect our families. Yet he is also a friendly sort, unflappable in his demeanor at most times, and I am fond of him. I even tease him. It is a bit like a small black cat batting at the tail of an enormous tiger, for its effect.

I believe this has created the perception that he and I are romantically involved; however this is not the case. He did once make an offer, but once his tusks no longer threatened my neck, I declined as respectfully as I could. My reason is, quite obviously, because I am paired already. For him, I also believe that no female alive could replace his departed mate.

Since then we have remained friends and allies. Although he still owes me an answer to the tackle I dispensed the other day, and I anticipate some bruises when retribution comes. Oh, but he did deserve to be knocked from his perch. And so will I.

Birthday Party

Good morning, journal.


I did not rest well. But it is the fault of no one but myself.


Last night I attended a gathering commemorating the birth of Urukha and her mate Pip. A great number of their Tribe were there, including the Regent. The boar, hunted the evening prior, was the central dish, and it was rather fine. Gifts were exchanged. I received several embraces, none of which were particularly welcomed but all of which were unavoidable. 


As I am unaccustomed to this sort of festivity, the gifts I offered were rather paltry, but were graciously accepted. After the meal, there was a game of white elephants. It was a strange game where the participants could choose gifts or steal from others, depending upon their whim. I stole a red festival dress from Whiteclaw. This I brought home and showed to D.A., who seemed well pleased with it. It was a happy moment.


As the night lengthened, I thought of my own origin. I do not know the date on which I was born, and so have never marked it. I do, however, remember well the day that I was raised from death.


And that is not a day to celebrate.

Maag

Maag is my hound. Although I do not claim ownership or dominion over him; he chooses to stay with me and I welcome him. He has been my companion for years now, and it is no exaggeration to say that he was my first friend.

His form is somewhat strange, as he is not a dog. He is a fel hunter, a demonic creature with intellect and sense, and peerless loyalty. When I left Viere, he was the only one to follow me.

He and I have endured a great deal together.  I would not know as well as I do the value of devotion and partnership without his steadfast presence.