Erendis's blog

((The following advertisement appears in all newspapers of Alliance and Neutral towns.))

With the first rays of the morning sun, Erendis stirred.  Slowly, her eyes blinked open and her sight came into focus.  Her movements alerted Memnon.

Seated at her desk in her flat, Erendis began to put the finishing touches on the most recent draft of her proposed lesson plan for the Academy.  Surrounding the desk like a fortress were the crumpled up and discarded prior drafts of her lesson plan.  She had thought it would be so simple; yet, here she was late into the night with the candle on the desk burning very low.

Archmage Malin sat in his chair behind his massive desk.  Irritated, he straightened a crease in his best robe.  For all the decades he had been Headmaster of the Mage’s Tower in Stormwind, he had never been subjected to such abject and complete humiliation.  Across from him, her feet propped up on his desk and coming perilously close to knocking over his prized Highborn Astrolabe, sat Erendis Corvus.

To the Esteemed Miss Corvus,

((Tongue planted firmly in cheek here. I remarked off the cuff the other day that Erendis should sue the Kirin Tor for causing the loss of her property in Hillsbrad.  So I figured... why not?!))

Later…

Although it was nearly two bells past noon, the streets in this particular section of Old Town, the Haymarket District, were always dark. Narrow streets flanked by tall tenement buildings did not allow much light in at all. And quite frankly, that was the way the residents wanted it… dark environs for dark business.

The crackle of arcane energies disturbed the layer of dust that had accumulated on the apartment’s floor. The energies coalesced and focused as the portal opened and the mage stepped through.

To confirm:  The rumors of recent Erendis sightings on ShC are true.  I'm back.

I played Warhammer after I left here.  It could have been something good (I've been dying for a quality PvP/RvR-centric game since DAOC), but the game fell flat on its face.  Oh well.  Dabbled back into EQ2 for a bit after that.  But, I think its high time to come on home. So, expect to see Erendis, Raealle and Sylaerin (H-side) running around Azeroth again.

Be seeing you...

Well, I always knew this day would come sooner or later...

A long time ago, I started playing WoW back in the beta.  And now, a few years, two servers and many characters later, WoW doesn't grab me like it once did.  So, that means it is time for me to move on and see if I can recapture the magic with a new online gaming experience.  This isn't easy... Erendis will be the hardest character for me to leave behind ever.  Plus, I have had the opportunity to interact with so many great folks here on ShC, that leaving is extremely hard.

((OOC Note: The following are the drunken, first person, ramblings of Erendis as she tries to cope during the time between learning of Sowelu's death and the night of the funeral))

Atop Bucephalus, Erendis crested the hill, one of many here in the Highlands. The cold night wind cut through her like a knife, and she pulled her cloak around her tighter and pulled her scarf up over her face. Below her, in a valley, was nestled a small village, a collection of wattle and daub thatched roof huts really. Only a few buildings were made of wood or stone. One of many such villages here in the Highlands. But this one was different. This one had a resident Erendis was looking for.

The dark-haired human sat at the edge of the floating island, adrift in the storms of the Nether. She dangled her feet over the edge and puffed on her pipe, staring into the abyss below.

The passage of time since meeting with Faelyn in Alterac wasn’t an easy thing for Erendis.  She spent the next two days at her farmstead in Hillsbrad blitzed out of her mind.

When she finally worked up enough sobriety, she made her way back to Stormwind.  It didn’t get better there. Running into Sowelu at the Bank of Stormwind didn’t help much either.  It only served to remind her of the neat little predicament she had allowed herself to fall into.

((At the ruins of an abandoned farmstead somewhere in the Alterac Mountains...))

Erendis circled the ruins several times from a distance.  She could neither see nor sense anything out of the ordinary.  Everything appeared safe for her to reveal herself.

She had been surprised by the note she found at the drop spot the other day.  It was a rare thing when Faelyn wanted her help.  Therefore, it must be important… important enough that she didn’t want to meet at their usual spot.  Whatever it was didn’t matter to Erendis.  Faelyn was the closest thing she had to a sister in this world.  She would do anything for her.

Slowly, she crept from her observation point and into the ruin.  Faelyn stood in the middle with her back to her.

“Hi Eren.  Good to see you’re still the same cautious self,” she said without turning around.

Erendis was having another sleepless night.  Clumsily, she rolled out of bed and stumbled across her flat to her desk.  Opening up the concealed drawer, she withdrew her journal and began to write.

I couldn’t find Alex in the City.  She’s gone to ground somewhere.  No matter, she’ll turn up eventually.  I got to start somewhere though, so I packed some things and headed north.  Figured I would begin there.  After all, I have an investment to protect.

I arrived in Southshore on a cold winter’s day.  Cursin’ the weather, I went to work almost as soon as my feet hit the dock and Bucephalus was taken out of the ship’s hold.  These folk know me somewhat.  But, I was met with resistance from most quarters.  I thought this was odd.  Most of 'em said it was banditry or the Syndicate.  You would think that if a well-heeled mage went ‘round askin’ about it and hintin’ they intended to do somethin’ about it, people would speak up.  But, no.  Very odd in my estimation.

It's been a while since I've written in this thing.  My Outland interests have kept me away from the City.  For far too long it seems.  One thing you can always count on, when you're away everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

On the mundane side, the Flat was a mess when I got here.  Seems the maid has been slacking in my absence.  Her and I are going to have a chat in the near future about the nature of the employer/employee relationship methinks.

To all outward appearances, the Helping Hand Import/Export Co. appeared to be a legit operation. It did a brisk business moving trade goods into and out of the City, paid its taxes on time and even donated to some local charities.

Of course, it was all a front.

Sometimes, I wonder just what the hell I am doin’.

It all started innocently enough.  Abby invited me over to Raven Hill.  Figured it would be a nice quiet night.  Couldn’t be more wrong.  Apparently, The Fates will not allow me a nice quiet visit.  Damn them.

We found two stiffs outside later in the evening.  They were in rough shape and had been worked over quite nicely.  I didn’t find anythin’ on ‘em, no identification, no papers, hell, no money even.  Perplexin’.  But, then again, folk of this sort normally don’t carry such things around on ‘em.  Either that, or the killer beat me to it.  The killer… I got my suspicions on who that was… “suspicion” bein’ of course an understatement.  That gal who came to the Tavern stuck out like a sore thumb.  Someone gallivantin’ about with a wolf-mask shouldn’t be too hard to find, eh what?

((A little behind. Sue me =P))

“Bloody lovely,” Erendis muttered to herself, plugging her nose at the scent of the barbequed human corpse.  “This was supposed to be a fun night…”

She came to Raven Hill, for the first time in a while, at Abby’s invitation.  Their reunion after such a long time apart had been most pleasing.  Afterwards was a different story however.

((Another flashback to Erendis' time in Guiding Hand.  In this story, Erendis (known as "Ravenclaw") is twenty years old.))  

Two letters arrived in Erendis’ mailbox.  Two simple letters that would change everything.

Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts.

The first part is called "The Pledge." The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal.

But of course... it probably isn't.

Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts.

The first part is called "The Pledge." The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal.

But of course... it probably isn't.

Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts.

The first part is called "The Pledge." The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal.

But of course... it probably isn't.

((Another flashback to Erendis' time in Guiding Hand.  In this story, Erendis (known as "Ravenclaw") is sixteen years old.)) 

Thirty questions in sixty minutes.  Two minutes per question.  Ravenclaw got four wrong and did not have enough time for five.  As far as Eladin was concerned, she had failed the test.  Now was the time for the punishment.

Erendis speaks...