Delegation

Za’zii insistently pestered me for a job, so I resurrected an idea and put him to work on it. The agreement was that he bring humiliation to someone that I find repulsive.

To be truthful, at the beginning it felt rather pleasant to hire out. I did the same for the carriage, by bringing on Miss Hackwrench, and then Aomaho and Sunspeaker. Urukha did a lovely job with the harness. Around the house, Mirtai has been of great assistance in keeping the place in order. And, when Gom’jun discovered that I had hired Za’zii, he also indicated that he would be willing to work.

But my goal for Za’zii was petty, and his plan was poor. Thus, resulting in abysmal failure. Though none of them were supposed to be involved, near half the Tribe, including Pip, Urukha and Whiteclaw were embroiled in a brawl in the tunnels of Orgrimmar. I am ashamed for my behavior and for the doubt it has cast me into. The obligatory conversation following with the Regent was unpleasant. It felt, nearly, like I was speaking with Viere again. I struggled to hold my composure.

I hope that Gom’jun is able to deliver my message to Nemeiah, or that my beloved will respond to my efforts at home, because I am severely lacking in kind guidance at the moment. I need that assistance, journal. Not lectures nor platitudes, nor a bowl of ice cream. Help.

Balance

This last week or more since D.A.’s emotional eruption, I have attempted to spend more time and attention on things closer to home. I am concerned. There is a delicate balance between the energy I possess and the expectations others have of me. I confess that some of those expectations I sought without fully calculating the consequences.

But I am aware of my desires, and my priorities. And there is now a palpable strain. I must not allow it to affect my judgment, but I fear it already has.

Intruder

There is something haunting my barn. I do not know what it is, but it managed to startle me mightily. It has shown no sign of viciousness and yet, I do not know how to rid the place of it. As for how it made it past my wards, D.A. suggested that it may have been there all along.


I had thought that it was nothing more than a delusion inflicted by my slipping and striking my head during the storm (another dizzy spell, I think). But then when I re-entered the barn later in the morning, with D.A. watching a safe distance away, and we both witnessed unusual happenings.

I am displeased.

Hunger

I do not require much food. To be truthful, I would likely be perfectly well without eating, but it is something expected and offered by others, and I believe it is a behavior that promotes their comfort and a sense of normalcy. This baffled Westel and Urukha, as they interpreted my lack of appetite as displeasure with what they provided. Pip has learned that I prefer bringing packaged samples home for convenience.

There is a second sort of hunger, though, that I explained to the Regent after an incident involving another Death Knight. A group of us, mostly Tribe but also Zazii and Gom’jun, were sitting in a hall in Silvermoon and debating. We were joined by that Death Knight, Naomi, who I did not know and who did not contribute to the discussion. When we relocated to the woods, she followed. Westel, the only Tuskguard present, did not accompany us, leaving the rest vulnerable.

As we collected food at an Eversong outpost, Naomi approached me. She did not understand how I could interact with so many “mortals” and not succumb to the endless hunger. This condition, simply defined, is if Death Knights do not regularly kill, we suffer debilitating pain. One of the lasting influences of the Lich King.

Naomi had originally been attracted to the group by my presence.When we moved from the city, she thought that I would ambush the others. She intended to support me and attack them. I corrected her assumptions regarding my motives and declared that the group was under my protection.

She submitted to me, but the Regent noticed the tense exchange. No one else did. The next day, I explained to her what occurred, and to what hunger Naomi referred. Westlynn was attentive and polite, asking many questions and maintaining a clinical, rather than sentimental tone. I appreciated this. Others could react poorly to such information. There is no cure for this, so there is little use for emotional cloudiness.

((Sources: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/2721372142 "Are blood elf death knights still affected by their racial addiction to magic?"

"The Endless Hunger" http://www.wowhead.com/quest=12848. ))

Forbidden

There are many things that I am not permitted to do. They are not excluded because they are physically impossible, but because of social or rank restriction. For example, it is bad form to track muddy boots upstairs into D.A.’s study. Or to threaten the shadow-kitten with unholy retribution for damaging my socks. Intentionally spooking Mirtai. And of course, I follow the rules associated with remaining dutiful to my beloved.

However, there are limitations placed by others, the latest of which comes from Nemeiah. I am not to visit Tyr’s Hand. Not due bad behavior on my part, nor by a sweeping edict of the Bishop. But because of unsettling incidents that recently occurred there. Nemeiah wishes for my absence so that I will not be endangered.

I am not comfortable with being forbidden thus. To demean myself, it is a bit like telling one’s guard dog to wait outside while the robber is still inside the house. And, of course, I now cannot access the abbey library to enjoy its quiet and resources. But I am currently obeying Nem's preference despite my compulsion to defend.

Trust

The Regent invited me for another walkabout and meal. Perhaps I am too suspicious to think that any individual with as healthy an appetite for information as she would avoid the opportunity to interrogate me, but she refrained from doing so.  With her it is a different experience than say, Decie and Leahndri, or Westel at times. The curiosity is there, but the tactics used to express it are much more subtle.

To this end, the issue of trust rose. The Regent expressed that she wanted mine. Not solely as her Title identity but as Westlynn. She cited years of patience with Do’xian as evidence of her persistence. She told me to expect that she would not expose me not matter what I entrusted to her. As a friend.

It is difficult to calculate on this. As I have stated, she is the leader of the wolf pack, and no matter what sort of personal relationship she may wish to invite, she is still the leader of the Tribe. This is a position where one has great power to offer confidence, but duty could compel the opposite. I am not certain if the offer is truly sound.

The odd thing was that opposite this declaration of personal expectations, my attempts to define our formal relations went very much undefined. But, perhaps I can blame the tumult that arose through her talisman for distracting her from this topic. I am a bit disappointed by this.

However, there is now opportunity for me to test that confidence she offered. I will write the results when I know them.

Loa

For one that is not a Troll, it is difficult to learn much about the Trollish gods: the Loa. Loa, in a general sense, are spirits that are offered sacrifice and service in order to receive their blessings. It is akin to a master and servant, according to Zazii.  

It was Jiik that first mentioned this, as she is a Trollish warlock and in the service of Mueh’zala. I did not know until much later that even mentioning the name of this Loa was disagreeable. In addition, Elves and Trolls do not mingle well when discussing their faiths. Before, when I asked Do’xian regarding this, he warned me that too much curiosity and questioning could bring ill will. However, two nights ago Zazii, Gom’jun, and another one of their acquaintance that they called Vorl’baz were discussing it. I was invited to listen.

Apparently, you are given the opportunity to choose your Loa, based on what powers you possess, or wish to obtain. There are more than one Loa that deal with death, unsurprisingly. And they are very real in form, as the Drakkari trolls of Northrend took advantage of. Gom’jun did not sacrifice to any Loa, and did not understand why his elders considered it so vital. They explained it to him. It was fascinating.

Unknown

My darling gave to me a beautiful sword for Winter’s Veil. It appears to be of an earlier Wartime. How it was found and retrieved I know not, but I suspect that some considerable magic was involved.

I have since thrown myself back into battle, but with altered perspective. The gift from Greatfather Winter, and the return to Tirisfal have changed circumstances. I had thought that all evidence of my origins was destroyed with Viere’s death; or at least, all opportunity to investigate it. It was a sacrifice that I understood and accepted.

But that acceptance is beginning to fade as I realize how much others know. Nemeiah’s curse seems to be that she remembers everything about being human, including revulsion for the dead. The rose experiment demonstrated this. She, like I, was not given a choice about whether or not our rest was eternal, and then was brought back as something that was not beautiful. Or rather, not beautiful by the standards she lived with. But within, there is very much the same human-hearted girl.

This philosophical struggle, though, is only possible because of the retention of those memories, and those standards. Those things that I cannot reach. I looked into the gift from Great-father Winter, and I saw a tiny piece of that unknown. Urukha offered to fill it by bringing me into her own family. But we discussed the flaws of this already.

The gift still sits on my desk, empty. I have not looked again.

Water Festival

A few nights ago I attended the Tribe’s celebration of water. It was a gathering to mark and respect the element that provides the fluid life of our world. We walked down the rivers in Ashenvale and then participated in several activities. Some panned the stream for valuables, others received tattoos from the talented Gren’mazi, and others removed their clothing for a swim suit contest.

I did the latter. I did not win the overall but did place second. Apparently, one cannot compete with Pip when she stalks about utterly naked and showing off her stripes. Literally. There are stripes tattooed up her back. It was this event that triggered the unsettling conversation with my beloved, which I recorded a small sample of here. I will not pursue that topic again.

The event concluded with a swimming race, which Gom’jun won and I did not enter in, and blue fireworks.

Zazii and Gom'jun

These are interesting trolls. I am not certain what profession Zazii is, but I have seen him alter his shape like a druid, as well as don heavy armor and weaponry for the battlefield. He is highly sociable, and watches others with keen analysis. When I asked what it was that he did, he replied that he was in the business of information gathering.

In his company there is often another troll, smaller in size and younger in years I believe, named Gom’jun. The latter is displayed as Zazii’s protégé, but their friendly behavior indicates a deeper emotional connection. Gom’jun also dislikes the image-capturing machine called a camera. There is humorous evidence to that on the Tribe’s announcement board. He seems less inclined to study the world, and more to simply enjoy his place in it.

Zazii, however, has assisted me in watching for certain things around what he calls ‘tree-hill.’ One of those things of late was that pestersome Knight. However, he also recently acknowledged a bit of bad behavior on his own part when I was not adorned in armor, and he apologized for his leering.

There were also some recent business dealings with Do’xian that neither have explained in great detail to me, but there linger residual feelings of ill will. I have also watched Zazii cultivate rapport with the Regent, and am curious to know what his precise motivation for this is. He does not appear intent on joining the Tribe. And with his sharp examination of behaviors, it is likely that he commands the ability to manufacture his image for the situation.

One other detail that escaped my initial description, as I had grown accustomed to it, is Zazii's habit of referring to himself in the plural "we." The cause of this I have not had settled definitively.

Evasion

I encountered the strange knight again in Orgrimmar. He claimed that we had not met, but I recall a pair of meetings at the least, and he did state that he had observed me about the city. He was very evasive regarding his identity and motives.

Inquiring after his name, he gave me a string of titles that were very unhelpful, such as “the Lion,” and “the Coward.” Though he did state that I could call him “Knight.” We bantered repeatedly about both my unwillingness to guess his identity, and his claimed lack of knowledge of the same. If he does not know what he is, then certainly I am not going to assist. He boasted that he had power of Blood, Frost, Illusion, Transmogrification, and Alteration, to name a few. Thus, the crisis of classification.

He also intruded on my privacy twice. Once, by taking my hand and pressing it to his neck to demonstrate that he had a pulse. Then, by speaking directly to my mind when another came to join us.

One interruption was by a dragon-woman. I learned from their conversation that they are both estranged from Bishop Lightwarden, the protector of Tyr’s Hand and of Nemeiah. I approve of this. The second interruption was by another death knight. “Knight” became quiet and surly, as though offended that the other man had encroached on our discussion. He also seemed to dislike Westel when I thanked him for the dinner.

My concern that he will pester Nemeiah at Tyr’s Hand has diminished, and now that Urukha splendidly told him what she thought of his "skulking," he may not bother me again, either. 

Fear

"So, are you more scared of one of you being physically attacked or of letting go of some of the control you have over your own life?”  

"You! They are weakening you. Just... I don't know… be safe. Don't let them make you think that we are... because we never ever will be.”

Urukha said the first some time ago. My beloved D.A.'s emotional rebuke is the second. I did not realize how far I had let my guard descend, how much information I had been willing to share with outsiders, including the Tribe. They do not understand. I will be more careful, I promise, darling. 

Unlife

I spoke with Nemeiah and demonstrated my rose experiment to her. I took a normal red rose, healthy and vibrant, and froze it unto death. I removed the petals and then set unholy magic to the remains, raising it as a black rose.

Nemeiah’s reaction was stronger than I expected, and she seemed disgusted by the process. I was taken aback, thinking that of anyone, she as a raised holy woman would understand the struggle and need to create some life in death. But she accurately proclaimed it as unlife, not life. It led to an interesting admission that her journey mirrored that of the rose. And her discomfort with my necromantic rose illuminated her own struggle with her existence.

I admit that I do not care for self-reflection, but I did miscalculate here. As I did with the lost raptor egg. It was not my intent to cause self-revulsion, but to create something beautiful from death. Perhaps I should not experiment thus, lest success escalate my ambition.

Assumptions

An assumption is when one concludes on a matter before all of the information has been gathered. It is sometimes the only way to make a decision when not all the data are available. It is also a useful tool in interaction when one’s speaking partner is not completely forthcoming. Or, when you are playing a game that requires guessing.

I am amused by most of the assumptions made about me. Frequently I allow these to persist without correction, though some of these assumptions are true, and some are decidedly not. For example, that I am a tireless soldier and lacking in any sense of humor. That I am paired with a woman. That I am paired with a man. That I am paired with no one and am opposed to any physical relations. When others settle on the last, this is to my greatest advantage, I think.

Other assumptions are more troublesome. Some believe that I am utterly evil and should be destroyed, without the possibility of reconciliation. Others believe that I have already atoned. I have expressed, at least in various conversations, that the truth, as a philosophy, cannot be obtained utterly because perspective and assumptions will always cloud it.

Violet-Eyes

Yesterday I ventured into the ruined kingdom of Gilneas to try and retrieve roses for my experiments. I desired an entire plant if it was possible. I found a garden with several, and then noticed blood upon the leaves and ground. I followed this into the house nearby.

There, a young worgen attacked me. She was defending her territory, which I realized too late, and I erred in pressing forward into it. We struggled with each other until I was against the wall, her dagger to my throat and my Frost at hers. Then, she spoke in passable Orcish and demanded that I leave. Half-transformed between human and worgen, her eyes shined a vibrant violet color.

We exchanged words and released each other. It is fortunate that she neglected to poison her blades, or I surprised her before she was able. A rather interesting encounter. It regrettably prevented me from attending a Tribal gathering, but I am hopeful that this goes unnoticed.

And I still did not obtain my bloody roses.

Dinner with Westel

Some days ago Westel invited me to sample some of his cooking, and last night we met on the barge in Bladefist Bay outside of Orgrimmar. We mostly spoke of his daughter Anais, his woman Astoreth (whom he is trying to wed), and their qualities. I was quite amused when he said that Anais, for a time, wished to only eat items that were colored purple. He also mentioned that he is of noble origin, but does not maintain those ties.

He then finally discerned that we spoke far more of him than of me. He pressed me for information, and I mentioned the livestock that are, or were, in my care. The many horses that I now possess, and the greatwolves that I once commanded.

The question also arose as to why I had not yet joined the Tribe. The answers I gave were accurate, that I value my privacy and that my duties could conflict with Tribal interests, but I was not specific. He assured me that I would be quite welcomed. I see the reasoning on both sides here as rather similar to Urukha's offer, and the reservations I possess regarding that.

We discussed the role of a Tuskguard as well as difficulties the Tribe had faced in the past. In particular, an odd menace that had various members of the Tribe seeing things and filling caves with blood. Then suddenly, it vanished and has not troubled them for months. 

And, of course, there were the names. He stubbornly refers to me with endearments and I stubbornly correct them. I rather enjoyed the conversation.

Update #4

I delivered the apple sapling to Urukha as her and Pip’s lifemating gift. She seemed rather pleased with it, and its younger sibling still resides in my garden. Mayhem, my drake, behaved quite nicely when transporting it. Pip, however, was feeling ill and was not present.

The raptor egg that Anannia gave to me is no more. I kept it warm and did all that I thought was necessary to keep it alive, but the life inside it has faded. I do not know why. It could have been a lack of knowledge on how to care for unborn reptiles, or my presence as I thought. I regret that I did not seek the advice of others and possibly, change this outcome.

The last of the edibles that I sent to Vivvienne via mail was returned to me with postage due. It seems she did not receive it, did not see it, or rejected it. It is a shame. That particular sort of bread is baked in only one place.

D.A. and I formally hired Mirtai to serve in our household. I composed the contract and it is signed. The result, I hope, is that she will feel more secure in her place here and not fear that she will be cast out without recourse. And, that her tasks will eventually include things that will increase her sociability, which Urukha suggested, as needed. Mirtai reacted to the arrangement with more crying, but it was the happy variation.

Also, I have discovered a rather interesting use for red roses. I am hoping to practice the process and thus perfect it. However, I am distinctly lacking in a steady supply of the crimson flowers.

Re-calibration

I spoke with Mirtai regarding her future. From our past conflicts and her recent tumult I had expected that she would be eager for the opportunity to leave and have a better home elsewhere. I had been considering options for some time now. She would make an excellent addition to someone’s household, with her newly acquired skills and obedient demeanor.

But when I broached the topic, Mirtai reacted strongly, and negatively. She fell to her knees and begged that I not send her away. She feared that she had somehow displeased us, and in our discontent we would cast her out. I was stunned.

She claimed that if she was sent away, her origins would be discovered and she would be killed. I tried to assure her that I would not allow this to happen. But she began to weep and pleaded with me. I had not realized that she had grown comfortable here, though it is not a standard household and she is unpaid for her labors. But it seems that she has overcome her reservations regarding our prior rivalry, and I have not accomplished the same.

I feel ashamed. Into her eyes I gazed and no longer see the hopelessness and despair that there was, but there is fear and confusion yet. Am I truly that hateful? 

Armadillos

This is testimony to the most vexing rodents that I know. They are ugly, with their small eyes and oddly textured skin scattered with tiny hairs. They are cowardly, tucking into a protective ball whenever they are disturbed. They are deceptive, springing out of that ball at the precise moment it is unexpected and bringing the most amount of alarm to the unwary observer. Particularly if that observer is a death knight.

They are truly obnoxious, disruptive and irritating little creatures.

And if you think that I believe a word of what I just wrote, shame on you, journal.

Soul Beads

After their lifemating ceremony, Pip gave to me a leather bag full of beads. Pip said that I was required to take good care of them, and that she would explain their significance later. Similar ornaments appear in her hair as well as Urukha’s, and I believe I saw something on Dunerock’s weapons. He was Pip’s second at the ceremony, as I was Urukha’s, so I thought that this was perhaps related to it.

Urukha later expressed that they were soul beads, and Pip qualified this by saying that they were for protection. They are to strengthen my soul, and that my name was contained within. I was quite displeased. I would not have accepted them if I had known their purpose. It implies that my soul requires assistance, and I am extremely opposed to any such manipulation, as Jiik, a warlock, found during one of our more contentious discussions.

Pip and I were tense until Urukha rather forcibly reconciled us - verbally. Pip explained that she had made some sort of deal with the spirits, and that she had not seen any images from my life during her travel through their realm. She went there to retrieve the beads and empower them, I suppose.

I voiced my discontent with this, in addition to the implication that my soul was damaged. Urukha demanded that we settle our discord, and so we did. Pip apologized. I chose to keep the beads because they were a gift, even if they were not desired. I also required assurance that no further investigations would be made.

Tonight, I hope to present their wedding gift. My drake has been thoroughly cautioned to transport it carefully.

Laughter

Father Sunspeaker remarked yesterday that some snickering sound that I made was the first time he had heard me laugh. I corrected him immediately. It was not laughter. At least, not the rolling, energetic, mirthful experience that is greater than any smirk, chortle or chuckle. That was only an expression of amusement. I can recall the only times that I have, and those were not joyful moments.

I laughed when an aggravating little Elf named Marie stole a dangerous and complex item from me, and it destroyed her.

I laughed when I discovered the means to confront Viere. And then, at his ineffective attempts to defend himself.

Thus, I try not to laugh.

Fragments

I finally confessed about the strange dizzy spells to Nemeiah. Some days ago, when she handed me a paper with the word “Gilneas” written in Common on it, I saw another vision for a brief time. I described the scene to her yesterday, and she immediately thought that this might be a fragment of a memory. The simple brilliance of it astounded me, but the details are worrying. Why would the scenes be so different? One dark, one bright? What relation would an Elf have with Gilneas?

At the least, I now have a book that may be able to help identify the location within Gilneas. It is written in Common, which I cannot read, so I am hopeful that D.A. will be able to assist with the translation.

An amusing note. I joined several of the Tribe and a few others for a dinner and game down near Gadgetzan. The game included telling two lies and one truth about oneself. Of the dozen or so there, I was the only to select the truth correctly each time. Even for those I had just met, and the Regent’s skillfully concealed claims. I was rather pleased with myself.

Rotations

It seems that every few weeks or months there is a new group in Orgrimmar. They may be a clan, a self-proclaimed tribe, or a company (or that is what the goblins call it). They gather near or in the inn at the Valley of Honor, declaring their resolutions and loyalty to each other. Then, in a matter of weeks again they are crippled with in-fighting and defections.

A new leader rises and may take power, or the ambitious create yet another group and follows the same cycle. Sometimes the force of a commander’s personality is enough to hold them together for longer. Other times it only invites hatred and rivalry from other groups and competition rises. Examples of these groups are the Blood of the Horde, Bilgewater Boys, Scoundrel Co., Dragonbanes and so on. Even the Legion of the Kor’kron are not immune to growth and decay.

The current trend appears to favor the Blackjaw, and the Warsong Outriders. The latter faded for a time under inept leadership and are resurging, or that is at least what I am hearing.

Each change is interesting to observe. And it validates my desire for independence from any group. Loyalty should be a constant thing: once gained, it becomes intractable. The difficult part being, of course, deserving that loyalty to begin with.

Pip and Urukha's Lifemating

Last night Pip and Urukha underwent the ceremony to bind themselves to each other as mates for life. While it was not the first time that Pip has done this, I believe it was for Urukha, and certainly the first that I had witnessed. It began with a fight for dominance, both of them nude. The blows were violent, and Urukha won by leveraging Pip’s strength and choking the breath out of her.

My purpose was to ensure that Pip did not flee from her obligation. I reminded her of her duty to Urukha now. She claimed that she still loved each of those she had mated with, which I still do not understand. After she recovered, we convened at the river’s heart in Sholazar, where the Regent officiated. They exchanged promises, rings, and then an embrace.

After this we returned to Piki’alo, and with Westel’s advice I presented my speech before we played the Truth or Dare game. I include a copy of it here, although I did not need to read from it.

I believe the custom of a speech of this nature is to present some humorous, inspirational, or moving tale in order to remind the object of the journey they have traveled. That not always do we make the wisest decisions, resulting in amusement or grief.

Some month or more ago, I had a problem. Various valuable items had been pilfered by nefarious sorts, and Urukha did not hesitate to offer her assistance when I asked.

It was a difficult fight. We were restrained by the enemy, and in but a few moments, we would have been defeated. But in a moment of supreme courage, Urukha broke her bonds and saved us both.

Urukha, Pip. Be devoted. Cherish each other. Do not waver, do not hesitate. You are both stronger than the bonds of doubt.

I offer my blessing, and ask the others here to offer theirs, as well. So that you know that you are also cherished. Also upheld. Know that we will support you with all that we have…

Until Ash.

Reclaiming Tirisfal

It is done. Though I had returned to the gloom of Tirisfal repeatedly during the restoration of the carriage, the visit that Urukha and I made to the labyrinth illuminated the struggle I have with the place. That is now resolved.

D.A. and I traveled to the windmills, where I did was necessary. I was told that it was 'alright to feel,’ whether or not that emotion was anger or sorrow. But neither I expressed there. Having thought on this for so long, not as self-reflection, but as strategy for how to clear my mind of his influence, I arrived at a solution.

As long as I blamed Viere for my limitations, he had power. So, I forgave him. Thus, nullifying the domination of his memory.

There is nothing else I wish to record on this topic.

Preparations

Pip and Urukha are to be lifemated in a few days. Pip claimed to hold no feelings of anxiety, but Uru admitted to a few. One of the traditions involved in the ceremony will be a battle for dominance, wherein they struggle until one cannot continue. This may not be completely violent, but I expect it in some measure. I confess that I still have my own reservations, but at the least, the speech is ready and I will continue to support.

There are my own preparations of a different sort, as well. While Pip and Uru welcome a new life, I will bid farewell to my old one. Putting to rest every association I have with the man that, in so many ways, ruined me. It has been a year, nearly, since I left Viere. And I remember that day exquisitely. There is a delicious irony to when a self-indulgent man is driven to set his own bedroom ablaze in order to defend himself.

But his influence lingers past this, and past his death. D.A. called this sort of thing a funeral. While there is no body to inter, I do intend to formalize his end. Then, perhaps I can prepare for other things.

Westel

I have mentioned him on several occasions. He is an archer and Tuskguard for the Burning Tusk Tribe. He has a young daughter named Anais. He has dark hair and, I must admit, is extremely attractive. However, we met in a manner that made us less than amicable.

He boasted extravagantly of his amorous exploits, and the relationship ruined by his interference. I found it distasteful, as I do not value spending one’s energy on as many conquests as possible, particularly when one is fortunate to already have a lover. I reminded him of this when we spoke recently. He seemed abashed, claiming that he has changed considerably. In our conversations he does present a different personality, one that I approve of much more readily.

The daughter, Anais, seems to have the entire Tribe employed to her whims. Were she older, I might call her a talented manipulator. Her guile reminds me of the tactics that D.A. uses frequently, actually. Though that is often calculated, whereas Anais should not be old enough to exploit this.

For many months Westel and I did not speak at all, but perhaps my continued presence among the Tribe and the Regent’s acceptance persuaded him. That, and my friendship with Urukha. Westel came to me for what he called ‘fresh perspective’ on an issue he faces with his current pair, a woman named Astoreth. She and I were introduced last night. I was a bit surprised that she also is in possession of a felhunter. A warlock, possibly. This may also explain the issue that Westel brought to me, as Viere enforced something similar.

First Impressions

There was an armored Knight in the city the other day, whose boorish and empty-headed behavior reminded me much of a paladin. Except that he is a death knight. He sped to the defense of others who did not crave it, utilizing magic and arms when subtlety should have prevailed. He even accosted a woman, calling her a heretic, for some affront to Bishop Lightwarden.

I assumed, as did others, that this Knight’s heavy armor had removed all sense between his ears. But after a conversation with a fellow observer, this might have been a deliberate manipulation of our first impressions. A deception. The situation is more complex than I realized, and this was reinforced by a conversation I overheard from his inexplicably chatty ‘heretic’ target. The affront was a complicated maneuver on her part to reclaim her property, or she claimed it was hers, but caused uneasiness to the Bishop.

This Knight’s zeal in defending the holy man may not be genuine. Zazii, the fellow observer I mentioned, tested him. The fellow demonstrated more adaptability and social agility than expected. The Knight also followed me on one occasion, to my annoyance. I mentioned this to Westel and he seemed concerned. He knows a bit about first impressions. 

If this man is skilled at deception, and the fangs I spotted on him are genuine, it would be best to watch for him. I do hope that Nemeiah is keeping her distance. The Bishop can protect himself.

Demons

I write of physical demons, not metaphysical. Their species are as diverse as their forms and abilities. Their motivations are less varied. Every demon craves destruction, but respects power. A warlock demonstrates his dominance, or offers a deal or exchange that is favorable to the demon. The demon will then obey, willingly if it is beneficial, and unwillingly if they are stronger than their master. In the latter situation, the master's lifetime is usually shortened.

The most common demons are those that warlocks keep. But for every one of these there are more advanced, more powerful, and far less complying types.

Succubus, Incubus, Queen of Suffering. Mistress of Pain. Infernals, demonic hounds, felhounds (they are not the same), Terrors, Fiends, Imps, Doomguard, Felguard, Wrathguard. There are others, of course. Varimathras, the traitor of the Undercity, was a Nath’rezim, or Dreadlord in Orcish, and this is the sort that I worry about.

Aside from succubi. But that is different.

I suppose I wished to record this sliver of knowledge because an acquaintance, Varkkali, brought an infant felbeast to me yesterday. It was distressed and in pain. I determined that it had an abscessed tooth and removed it with permission. Do’xian observed this and I gave the tooth to him, thinking that Viktor would approve of it. 

I realized later how strange this scene might have seemed to anyone less familiar with these creatures. Or anyone of holy persuasion.

Family

Urukha offered to bring me into her family when I confessed the disconnect with mine. I was rather startled by the gesture, as it was not a small thing to present. However, I firmly believe that it is far from reasonable and based solely on emotion rather than practicality. Orc clans, from what I understand, are based on strength, honor, pride, and not sentimentality.

The Tribe, and Urukha’s clan by extension, is like a pack of wolves. They are a family, though they are diverse. There is hierarchy, comradery, mutual protection and affection. One must be able to contribute this in turn to be accepted. I am the little black cat that was mauled by dogs, and left unfit to join any society, canine or other. I am flawed deeply, and not designed for this.

I attempted to clarify this to Urukha on one occasion. I believe her response was “F--- design.” This attitude, perhaps, explains her unusual offer to have an abomination join her family.

A brief note - another dizzy spell as I wrote this. In my own bloody house. I am displeased.

New Year

Good morning, journal.

It is the New Year. And as you may detect, you have new ink. I hope that you enjoy it.

Last night the Regent requested a private meeting over food, where we had an enjoyable, if challenging chat, and she offered to construct a communication device. It would not be a true Tribal talisman, only be usable between the two of us, and she promised that it would not track my location. I agreed to its creation. We also explored a hidden path in Darkshore and speculated as to its purpose. She did request knowledge on where I made my residence, but I did not answer.

Also, a note to remind myself to ask D.A. how to properly use the eating utensils given for this kimchi dish. They are two thin sticks held with one hand and manipulated like little jaws. I am curious if they can be utilized as weapons.

After the meeting, I returned home and took my household down to Booty Bay (after assuring that the Regent would not be there, as that is her place of origin) and watched the fireworks from the hills. It was rather pleasant.