The Kingdom of Quel'Thalas

Silvermoon, it's been a lovely summer.  But now as autumn rolls around...well, nothing really changes in our Eversong, may the spring never stop, but the world around us is turning to...jousting?

Yes, that's right Silvermoon, we're now embroiled in a competition, the Alliance versus Us for all the marbles in a tournament put together by the Argent Crusade.  As if all the chest-thumping, lances, and the shape of the tournament grounds themselves (a long, thin stadium with our tent and the Alliance's right across from each other, this is what happens when goblins design your festival grounds) weren't phallic and masculine enough for you all, then just remember how we're doing this for no reason other than prestige! 

Zaraek’s reprieve didn’t last long.  The next day, as the diffuse daylight softened into night in the bizarre land of Zangarmarsh, he was mounted on his deathcharger on the bank of an expanse of land separating him from the Darkcrest nagas, considering how to take them out, when his train of thought is interrupted by the sound of wings.  Skeletal wings.   Suddenly, a familiar form, a winged steed of the Ebon Hold, swoops down to appear before him.

--The paper of the book seem fragile, the edges a little crisp to the touch. Each word looks more like a scorch mark rather than ink, though there are a few drops of the smooth black liquid at the top of the page.--

Dear Journal,

Of all the times for something strange to happen to me, I wish this one could have waited until after the festival of flame. After every odd iccident, after all the mishaps, this ... curse should stop invading me! I can't even write properly!

Dear Journal,

It has been quite a while since I last wrote in you, and I appologize that you have been so left out of my life. I didn't try to loose you, it was your fault for jumping out of my bags while I was traveling to Thousand Needles. I guess we are lucky though that a Tauren found you and could not read the cursive elven language. I am glad that I am the Ambassador between elves and Tauren so that you didn't get put into the hands of some other elf.

Nothing really new has happened since my contact with Dimetri about his "demons". He checked himself into the "Asylum of Magical Mishaps", though they still can find nothing wrong with him besides his lust for certain nurses.

[[ So there was this one time when Rya just came back from Thunderbluff and spent a little time talking to Anandor that ended in quite an interesting way....

Last night I couldn't sleep, this morning it took me an hour to roll out of bed, and even now I don't want to move. Yesterday was chaos....

It wasn't bad until after I spoke with Lord Huor. I had left suddenly due to remembering a paper that was in need of signing and I returned to quite the battle in the Row Tavern. What would members want with the tavern there? I assume they were coming to kill someone they found a threat, but in the middle of Silvermoon?! They must be absolutely crazy!

I left that scene before anyone really noticed me. Obviously the trouble was being handled and I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I made my way to the Bazaar to see if there were any new inks I could use for my line of work. After a while I ran into Huor again, who was very happy to see me but had to go back on duty. He is a very strange man, and I do think he is much too old to be courting a young woman.

Dear Journal,

I know you never get that feeling that you are being followed, mainly because you are a book, but I wonder if anyone else feels like they are being tracked by hidden enemies and/or allies. I know that I have had spies on me for at least a year now, but I did not think they would stick around so long. Persistent little buggers, I must admit.

Thunderbluff was as beautiful as ever. A soft rain left the plains in glow, making me wish I wasn't told to come back. I know that "come back to Silvermoon now" were not his exact words, but his words on the paper definitely suggested that Convocate Goldleaf did not want me out and did not trust me as a bureaucrat and an ambassador. So I left Thunderbluff about a week earlier than I wished. Oh well ... no time to relax I guess when there is chaos to be had.

It is strange, feeling this way, when people are all rushing through their lives to try and get everything they want to do done. I know I don't have that choice or that time anymore. It seems as if everything has suddenly lifted from me, as if the weight of my life has left. I think I have three days left, more or less. It will be interesting if it works out that way.

I have been trying to sort out all of my uncle's life and have not even thought of what would happen if I died. I don't have a will, but maybe I should. There are three houses with everything in them ... that is a lot of stuff. And then there is Lyncis and Dust, my companions, who will have no one. I don't know where to start.

Moriurya Rose Sunbow Brightsinger
Dear Journal
My life has become more complex than ever before. There is talk of a group of people promoting themselves into power in the city to watch over the Convocation, but there is also conversations arising of people wanting to overthrow the whole system. I know that I have stated multiple times that I hate this city that they call Silvermoon, but I feel as if something devastating is going to happen and I might as well be caught up in the middle of it.

My parents were horrible people, always trying to show-off their arcane prowess  to others of our small town just outside the capital city of Quel'Thalas. It was worse when they realized that I wasn't doing well in their little "magic school." I didn't care much, and still don't, about how energy could be manipulated to do what ever we could imagine. When the scholar at school was punishing me for not doing my reading, I took my leave and ran to the forests.

It haunts me still. There were shouts, screams, crying, all coming from the villages and the capital city. I was almost hit with an arrow when the Farstriders found me. They took me in and hid me, not telling me about anything that was going on, only saying that I need to be quiet or get them all killed. That was when I realized that my elven home was being attacked. Smoke was filling the sky as the city burned, and I slept on the cold ground of the forest that night.

Ariel crawls into the den on her old homestead in Eversong near Fairbreeze Village in the late hours of the night and lights the old tarnished oil lamp to illuminate the cave like room. She removes the dire fox pelt from her head and lays it upon the make shift table where she also places her bow, quiver and mud covered armor. She kneels and reaches beneath the table to open a crate, revealing a stash of food which included apples, figs, a bread loaf, a few wild carrots and various homemade tea blends. She took a piece of fig and popped it into her mouth and then closes the lid of the crate. She can hear the fox kits stirring from their nook and sees Mother Fox come into the light of the lamp where she sits with a yawn as though to ask, ‘And where have you been, young lady?’ Ariel scratches behind the fox’s ears before sitting on the stack of furs she used as a bed in the den. She then takes out her journal that lay hidden between the bed and wall. Mother Fox, who was very accustomed to Ariel’s comings and goings, crawled back into her nook to be with her new litter of kits while Ariel wrote in the flimsy leather-bound book.

(( It's been a while since I've posted any sort of entry, and I believe it was long ago on a different character. Also, the character depicted in this entry and the ones to come is one that I abandoned months ago when I quit WoW. His story was left completely unfinished, in the middle of many different arcs, but I was too dejected from some inner-guild drama and my boredom at level 70 to really finish it. And I apologize for not explaining what happened, especially to those of you who were frequent acquiantances of Mauricio. :|

But, on a brighter note... I bring you the first, really, really short installment of the Firebird series, finally unveiling what really happened when the Convocate of Silvermoon disappeared. I hope you enjoy it. :D ))

In the heart of the weak, desire can destroy you. Love can enslave you. Passion can consume you. But the fires that burn in an envious soul can set the world ablaze.