((And Finally))

((I give you The Chronicles of Ruin.))

Scrap of Paper

It is apparently bloody difficult to find paper and writing implements here. 

I did not bring my journal to the shadow realm, but that point would have been concluded regardless, as after only a few steps inside we came under attack from a gigantic creature. My beloved and I were separated, and the horses lost. Or so I thought. They had an easier time of returning home than either of us will.

I continued to the Castle and met with the Lord after contacting my beloved via the stone. We were so far apart that our voices did not carry completely to each other and I was forced to guess much of what was said.

Before much longer, I understood what the Lord wanted us to do and was reunited with my beloved in that realm. We would not long remain there.

Now we are somewhere else. Or more accurately, somewhen else. It is not as cold, fortunately, but I cannot understand a word that anyone says. D.A. assures me that by simply standing and brooding this prevents a great deal of trouble. I am talented at that.

Do Not Want

This time of tranquility and stability is already ended. The cat came by, as did an unsavory face from the Shadow realm. My beloved and I have a decision to make.

-- The decision is made. We return to that dark place because the Lord of the Castle has to speak with us about Kaelyn. It was not an easy choice to make. This time, I leave you behind journal. Let us hope that this journey will be brief.

Dancing

As a general rule of behavior, I do not dance. Like laughter the activity has negative associations attached. In this case due to my experience of it being employed solely for the enjoyment of someone who did not deserve the display.

However some weeks ago I made a remark on the topic off-hand to my beloved, mostly as a distraction from other subjects. When we talked of it, I was not surprised to learn that D.A. had formal practice with dancing due to social expectations. The offer to teach me was then made.

I accepted, perhaps out of haste or a superficial desire to please. The matter went unspoken of until the night that we shared tea with Nemeiah. I had just seen the latter out of the place when my beloved suggested we take advantage of the setting for a lesson. The evening had gone well to that point, so I hesitated. Yet with less difficulty than anticipated I agreed.

It was pleasant, overall. Though I believe D.A. does not entirely understand the reservation and I am in no hurry to explain it. Those doubts now shift a tad and I find myself seeking a way to introduce another situation in which another lesson can be shared.

Tea with the Beloved

When trying to think of a proper word to label this event, I do not believe that there is a perfect descriptor. However, one word that kept returning to my mind was "remarkable."

To write it simply, my beloved and I invited Nemeiah to tea. She accepted, and we met and chatted in comfortable fashion. Not at home, certainly, but in a safe place. 

I confess that I enjoyed her immediate surprise at seeing just who D.A. was. Nem's grace and tolerance afterwards, needing only a moment to adjust was quite-- well the word has been used.

Nothing of great moment was discussed or done, yet I was profoundly pleased at how easy the two mingled. It caused me to wonder just why I had been so nervous and dreadfully thorough in planning, preparing and keeping the meeting a secret. Though perhaps it all was necessary and that did have impact, I do not know.

Still, there is no way to return to prior status now that this step is made. I entreated Nem to tell no one what she saw and learned.

The Good Days

Notwithstanding the tumult in Orgrimmar and Kalimdor, the ravaging of the new lands in the south and the accelerated intrusion of memories into my mind, these days have been good ones.

My beloved and I are both hale and engrossed in our tasks. For me that involves taking advantage of the economic opportunities brought by Garrosh's idiocy. It is a goblin's market. I brought the initial gains home the other night and was given praise (with all of the required paperwork because D.A. demands receipts).

Kruega has returned from his journeys, though temporarily I expect, and I had the pleasure of informing Nemeiah of it. Though he has now retreated from Orgrimmar and I cannot blame him for this. 

I even managed a few interesting conversations with strangers, despite the complaints recorded on these pages. 

All of these notes are not to claim that all is well and perfect, nor do I anticipate that things will remain positive and stable. I am attempting to enjoy when it is, while it is, without reservation or guilt.

Disgraceful

Yet again I am reminded of why I no longer claim kinship with the elves of Silvermoon. Yesterday I passed some time in Orgrimmar on business and in search of Nem (who hopefully has retreated elsewhere, given the troll unrest). I was unfortunate and overheard what constituted a "conversation" between several Sin'dorei.

The verbosity of our race is legend, I concede. Yet it is disgraceful to see men and women so clearly of consequence and education use an excessive number of words to say so little. Really, they said nothing at all and sounded so dreadfully self-important as they did. There was another in their gathering that openly drank the blood of one of the sand-lizards during their discussion, which was repulsive. 

When I made some small motion, driven to rub away the headache, the leader of the group turned from the lady (who was still speaking to him, mind you) to ask what bothered me. I decided not to answer, waiting for her to continue as would be proper in a civilized environment. He became aggressive and asked if I was mute, or simply rude, as he had addressed me.

I replied that he had. And said nothing else.

He then showed disdain and attempted to recover his pride by suggesting that he would never receive an answer, and that was well with him. (I still cannot fathom how he could not understand the simple proprieties of conversation and how boorish he was behaving).

To which I told him that when he was capable of conversation, we would chat. Then I walked away as I could watch for Nem from a different location without being exposed to such banality.