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.