Yet Another Debriefing

I've wanted to put together an origin story for Linna for quite a while now, so when I began Winter's Veil and the Light as a Christmas story things seemed to fit into place. Unlike the average Hallmark Christmas Movie (tm), I wanted a Christmas story that didn't have romance involved. Okay, yes, there's a few references here and there to romances, but it isn't the focus of the story at all.

It's also quite easy to forget that Linna's actually older than Card by about a year or so, because Card left home ahead of her. I felt that Card being the catalyst for Linna's departure is one thing, but there had to be more to it than that. I've done my share of volunteer work and I know people who chose professions that aren't very lucrative but serve a critical function in society* because they feel the call to serve. To me, the Paladin is an extension of that call to serve, despite in WoW lore the Silver Hand was seen as a path to the nobility. Obviously, people will join an organization for any number of reasons, yet I wanted Linna's desire to help out to manifest in a pretty obvious way. That doesn't mean that she's an overgrown Girl Scout or something, because I once described her as the least serious Paladin in the world. I can easily see her as being an annoyance in the side of Lord Shadowbreaker because she simply will not act with the gravitas as befits her status as a Knight.

The path of a Paladin in World of Warcraft is more than simply based on the historical military religious orders of the Crusades**, given that the members of the Knights of the Silver Hand could marry and have children. The AD&D version of the Paladin (the O.G. Paladin, to be honest) had a very restrictive set of ability requirements for the class, and in the old days of "what you roll on your ability score is what you get", Paladins were quite rare.*** Therefore, I made some extrapolations based on what I knew in-game of the WoW version of the Paladin and came up with the requirement for two sponsors for acceptance into the Order.

But how the initiation would progress kind of stumped me. 

Okay, I knew about Arthas' initiation in Arthas: Rise of the Lich King by Christie Golden, and I thought it might work with some heavy editing, but I cast about for information on how it was interpreted in a roleplaying scenario. It took some searching, but I came across this post on the Argent Archives website, which provides a full RP induction ceremony into the Knights of the Silver Hand.

From argentarchives.org as of July 1st, 2025.

As you can tell, I adapted it to use in the story in the same way that they adapted it from Christie Golden's work. I thought there was too much in the ceremony to simply copy it verbatim, so I trimmed here and there to speed up the story a bit, as well as to add the sponsorship portion. I also thought it appropriate to give the Priesthood more authority over the entire ceremony by cutting out the Silver Hand's direct participation in some of the initiation, reflecting the Catholic Church's authority over the military religious orders in the Middle Ages. Azeroth has too little population --compared to Medieval Europe prior to the Black Death-- to simply let whatever Priest happens to be around to administer the induction ceremony. Sure, one of the Bishops could have run the show, but since the High Priestess is actually there in the Cathedral in-game, it made sense to use her instead.

***

Okay, confession time: for the longest time I had absolutely no idea who Linna's second sponsor would be. Only now in retrospect it seems obvious, but I wrote up several basic outlines for various people who would be Linna's second sponsor, and at various times I tried them all out:

• Elsharin
• Evelyn
• Mona
• Sloan**** 
• Mathias
• Some Faction Lead/Bigwig

The last two I discarded very quickly, because Mathias wants to stay in the background as much as possible despite Mona's past ties to SI:7, and also because I wanted this to maintain more of a "common people" focus than fall into the same "faction lead-focused" trap that Blizzard has with their own Retail story. Still, I knew that in order for Linna to be inducted, there had to be some nobility or higher up involvement (the High Priestess, Lord Shadowbreaker, etc.) but I didn't want that to be the focus of the story. All of the others in the list I deliberately brought up and discarded in the story itself because the story actually provided the TL;DR of why I decided not to use any of them. I also really didn't want to choose Azshandra, because she'd never agree to that. I know her well enough --she lives rent-free in my head, you know-- and she'd have shut that down before I could even put her on the list.

I wanted the second sponsor to be someone that Linna has interacted with, and could potentially represent a larger organization that may or may not be well received by either the nobility or the clergy. To my mind, that meant either a semi-renegade (such as Balthan) or a member of an organization not based in Stormwind: the Cenarion Circle, the Argent Dawn, or the Explorer's League. Of those, the Cenarion Circle made the most sense since Linna has interacted with them before. And it was then that I went "Duh!!" and smacked my forehead. I contacted Ancient, who readily agreed to let me borrow Kitwynn again, and that was that.

***

There was one last loose end I had to clear up, and that was a technical matter. I didn't want to write about Honey Bread without actually having experience in how the damn thing tastes. Yes, I could have just rolled with it and come up with a description based on what I knew of the bread, but I wanted to ground my writing in my own impressions of what it tasted like. Of course, the problem here is that a fictional food isn't something you could readily taste.

Or could you?

Well, in the Before Times, I wrote a post about fandom cooking in July 2021. Among the books I referenced, there was this little gift set:

I still have the apron, btw.

And tucked within it's pages, there was this:

Sindorei this, Sindorei that. It's not like the Queldorei
didn't eat it before them, you know...
From World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook
by Chelsea Monroe-Cassel, Page 79.

So... I had a recipe to try.

I need not bore you with the details about my testing the recipe out*****, and I did have to make an adaptation to accommodate my low-salt diet, but this was the result:

That's after brushing it with melted butter
once it came out of the oven.

If you want to know how it tastes, well... 'absolutely awesome' kind of covers it. It reminds me a lot of challah bread, given that the ingredients are similar, but the recipes of challah I've used have granulated sugar instead of honey.

Before you ask, 1/12th of Chelsea's recipe comes out to about ~34 grams of carbs, so it's well within my carb budget on a per meal basis. Believe me, I kept an eye on my blood sugar after eating it, and I had no issues with a sudden spike in my numbers. 

My wife really likes the recipe, so I think I might have to put this into regular rotation. Next, I ought to try Chelsea's Mulgore Spiced Bread recipe, which apparently gets rave reviews on Reddit and other websites. 

***

So there you have it. A story that I originally thought I could belt out in a month or so took over seven months and had me bashing my head against a wall for a good while. I have other stories I'm working on in various states of completion, and I'm not sure which one will appear next. I ought to start posting on Azeroth After Dark rather than letting that blog sit there, unused, but we'll see. Based on my pageview data, I know that my fiction doesn't get a lot of eyeballs, but I wanted to get this out there instead of holding onto it.

*Aside from the military, there's teaching, firefighting, police, local journalism, libraries, community outreach (such as senior centers and support), park administration, and religious orders (no, televangelists don't count).

**The Poor Knights of the Temple of Solomon (Templars) and The Knights of the Order of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem (The Hospitallers) are the most well known among the military religious orders, but there's also other Crusades througout Europe that generated military religious orders. Among them are the Teutonic Knights, the Order of Calatrava, the Order of Santiago, and the Order of Montesa. All of these military religious orders mixed a monastic life with military service. Unlike their non-religious chivalric counterparts, the adherents of the military religious orders eschewed worldly possessions and maintained celibacy in the name of service. While those requirements may have held up for individual members, some of the military religious orders became very rich from donations by the nobility throughout Europe (looking at you, Templars).

***Or you had to keep rolling until you got the right combination. I tried that once, and it took me hours before I finally got a Paladin on rolls alone. That minimum score of 17 out of 3d6 for your Charisma is a real bitch.

****You can find Sloan as an NPC vendor in SI:7, and I adapted her in another unfinished story into someone Card interacts with when she finally arrives at SI:7 with Mona's letter of warning to Mathias. That letter of warning is referenced in One Final Lesson, Part 5 and Part 6.

*****If people want to see the details, I can make another post about that later.

Winter's Veil and the Light -- Part 2/2

Previous Installment:
Winter's Veil and the Light -- Part 1

Several days later I paced restlessly in the foyer of the Cathedral of Light. I may not be the focal point of today’s events, but I was going to be in front of the High Priestess of the Church of the Light herself. The Cathedral may not be the Keep, but that didn’t mean the nobles of Stormwind weren’t paying attention.

I paused for a moment to rub at the ache on my shoulder.

“Stop playing with it, Apprentice,” Mistress Elsharin said in Thalassian, her voice thick with disapproval. “It will take longer to heal.”

Pulling my hand away, I rolled my shoulders to move my old purple robe around a bit. “It’s…” I frowned as my voice trailed off. Searching for the right word in her tongue and realizing I didn’t know it yet, I changed directions. “How long before the pain goes away?”

“About a week.”

“A week?” I was about halfway through.

“Surely you’ve been hurt from being out in the sun too long, it’s no worse than that.”

No, it wasn’t, but that burn usually faded after a couple of days, and this was still going strong. I frowned, realizing that this was likely Elsharin’s way of saying “don’t be such a baby,” only since she said it in remedial Thalassian it sounded worse.

While Mistress Elsharin had given me another present –a warm bathrobe—for Winter’s Veil, her primary gift was a tattoo of her family’s crest on my shoulder. The concept of bearing the Dawnweaver crest sounded exciting and sophisticated at first, but the moment the Queldorei tattoo artist began, all those emotions vanished in a puff of smoke. I’d been beaten and stabbed and shot with arrows, but this so-called “small thing” hurt more than it had any right to.

Still, it kept me from thinking about Linna’s acceptance into the Order for a while.

“Remember, Apprentice,” Elsharin said, interrupting my musings, “Give the Knights what is asked, but no more. You have a talent for talking too much.”

“Yes, Mistress Elsharin.” I opened my mouth to continue, but I realized I was about to demonstrate my Mistress’ rather apt critique and shut it instead.

The doors to the Cathedral opened and my family entered, with Linna in front. She was dressed all in white, as was the custom for a supplicant, and she’d even taken care to brush her tangled blonde hair and tie it back into a smart ponytail. Her easy, casual smile was nowhere to be seen.

Winter's Veil and the Light -- Part 1/2

Yes, you read that correctly. I suppose you could call this a "Christmas in July" surprise, given that I'd originally meant to have this ready for last year's actual Christmas season, but stuff happened and I got stuck finishing the story. I'll explain more in a follow-on post after this is complete.

This story is set after the events that culminated in The Deadmines and then The Stockades in Vanilla Classic WoW. When I write I tend to jump around the timeline when I find a compelling scene, which is why I have other works of fiction in the pipeline. I may eventually begin creating completely original works of fiction again, but that also assumes that Cardwyn won't kick my ass or something and demand more be written.

The full list of attributions will follow at the conclusion of the story, so I won't give anything away, but here's a standard disclaimer: 

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any characters and locations created by Blizzard for WoW Classic remain their property. This work of fiction uses WoW Classic as the primary reference point. Copyright by Redbeard of Parallel Context, 2025.

Winter’s Veil and the Light

"Apprentice, your sister is here!"

I stuffed the last wrapped present into my pack and slung it over my shoulder. "Coming!" I called, flying out of my room and to the top of the stairs.

At the bottom stood Mistress Elsharin and Kira, chatting quietly. Considering she’d just arrived from Goldshire I expected my big sister to at least appear like she’d been traveling all day, but no, she looked like her typical perfect self. She wore her formal Journeywoman's outfit, complete with the badges signifying her rank in the Goldshire Bakers Guild stitched onto her breast jacket. The only indication she’d been on the road at all was her travelling basket by her side, which she used to carry baked goods throughout central Elwynn. I bounced down the stairs and into her arms, clapping her on the back. “Kira!” I cried.

"Card!" she exclaimed, squeezing me tight and holding me at arm’s length. "Look at you! You're wearing a new robe!"

"It took me quite a while to figure out how to stitch the material,” I grinned, “but I had some help from around the Quarter." 

That was quite an understatement. When Mistress Elsharin suggested that I should mark the ending of the Defias affair by making my own robe, I was a bit hesitant. After all, she'd made it rather plain to me that despite her Queldorei house name she was not a tailor and had no interest in becoming one. After my experience with a tailor accosting me to examine my robe when I first arrived in Stormwind, I wasn't so keen on asking for help, either. However, Elsharin recommended a different tailor, and Mistress Larson took me under her wing to show me the basics of dealing with bizarre items such as spider silk thread in the creation of this new white robe.

"I love your Journeywoman's outfit!" I added as took in my sister's uniform. "Isn't it different than last year’s?"

"Yes!" Kira pulled her sleeve over, exposing some new stitching. "The gold stripe along the shoulder and down the sleeves signify Senior status."

"That's wonderful! Does that mean you're the Senior Journeywoman in the Guild?"

My sister grinned from ear to ear and nodded.

I dropped my pack and embraced her in another tight hug. "Congratulations!"

"That is wonderful news!" Elsharin exclaimed, crossing over to our kitchen. "This calls for a toast before you leave." 

"You're not coming?" Kira called after her.

My sister released me, and I shook my head and sighed.

"I shouldn't intrude, as it is a family event, and a Dawnweaver always puts family first," Mistress Elsharin replied, returning with three glasses and a bottle of wine.

"I tried to convince her that she's family now," I added, "but..."

"No buts, Apprentice." The Elf handed out the glasses and poured some wine into each. "To Kira Songshine, Senior Journeywoman!" she exclaimed, raising her glass in a toast.

"To Kira!" I saluted my sister and drank. 

"To Card and Elsharin, my Stormwind family!" Kira added.

"And now," Elsharin said, setting down her glass, "I believe you two have a date to keep back at your farm." She walked over to the foyer and raised her arms to cast. "Apprentice, you have my presents with you?"

I grabbed my pack and slung it over my shoulder. "Yes, Mistress Elsharin."

"Very well, I'll open the portal." She focused and brought the arcane to bear before us, and a portal to the farm opened. "Tell everyone Happy Winter Veil for me!"

"I will!" 

We stepped through the portal and into our barn.

Adding to the "To Be Read" Pile

I knew that Sir Terry Pratchett's novels were popular, but I underestimated just how popular they are.

As of 5:05 PM today.

This is kind of bonkers, but it also underscores the popularity of Discworld.

I never read any of Sir Terry's work, even though I was very much aware of it, because I've been a bit intimidated by it. I'm aware that there's a lot of puns and humor in the novels, and my concern was that I simply wouldn't get the humor in them. Kind of like watching Red Dwarf, I know there's humor there, but a lot of it simply flew over my head because it was so British that I didn't get the context.*

Or maybe trying to understand some of the Monty Python's Flying Circus social commentary, particularly with (then) current political and celebrity characters appearing as caricatures. To me, I simply had no grasp of the context at all, so it could have been humor surrounding Warren G. Harding and the Teapot Dome Scandal for all I knew. The Parrot Sketch? Sure, I got that one. The Ministry of Silly Walks? Yeah, because every country has a blasted bureaucracy. But a lot of Terry Gilliam's cartoons? Eh, not so much.**

But given Sir Terry's popularity, underscored by the support for the Discworld RPG, I think I might give the series a chance.

Yay, one more book (or is that set of books?) for the TBR pile.

*Before you ask, yes, I gave Red Dwarf a chance. My brother-in-law loved the show, which is how I was introduced to it.

**Although I did see a graphic of Edward Heath in a couple of them. I know him not because of The Beatles' Taxman song ("Uh oh, Mister Heath"), but because I attended a question and answer session with Mr. Heath when he was in Dayton for something or another back when I was in college. Let's just say that Mr. Heath does not suffer fools very well, and I'm glad I decided I wasn't going to ask him a question even though the opening was there.

That Feeling When...

...you look up and realize it's November, and you've been unconsciously writing fiction for the past week without prompting.

It must be NaNoWriMo.

I didn't sign up for it this year, because every time I did I would end up with barely 2000 words. And this time it wasn't about trying to prove to myself that I could write something, like I did the past couple of Blaugusts, I...

Well, I just started writing. Not because of NaNoWriMo, but just because of the urge to do so.

***

One thing I don't understand --I truly don't-- is why Cardwyn has gotten under my skin as much as she has. 

I mean, she's by far not the first fictional character I created and wrote about, and also not the first RPG/MMO character I've written about either, but something about her has just taken root and I can't shake it. This is one of life's quirks that truly annoy me, because I'm not one for fan fiction. It's not that she's a canon character or anything, but the world that she inhabits is owned by a corporation, and that definitely qualifies her as fan fiction in my book. 

And I'm not projecting myself on her, either. At least I don't think I am, since if you gave me an offer that I could be whatever RPG class I wished in a real life scenario, I'd probably pick a Paladin. 

I really don't know why, but I've already put down 9500 words and 22 pages worth of story, which ain't that bad for someone who really started cranking this out about 3-4 weeks ago, sandwiching it around work, gaming, and blogging. If I were to simply abandon any sort of editing along the way and just spewed words out, I could really keep this story going for a good long while. 

/sigh

Anyway, here's a short sample of what falls out of my head like it's part of a fever dream:

I faced the next broken beam, summoned the Arcane, and used the magic like a pry bar. The pieces plopped to the ground.

“Gah.” I shook myself as a tendril of frost curled up my spine.

Jas had an odd look on his face. “Uh, Card?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re not cursed or something? As soon as you cast, your entire complexion changed.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I was checked out by a couple of Cenarion friends of mine, and even I inspected myself several times. I know what aura a curse leaves on a person, and I just don’t have it.” I called upon the Arcane again, and the replacement beam rose into place. “Everything I’ve seen so far makes me think it’s all in my head.”

Jas hammered away at the nails. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but…”

“…you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you’re telling the truth, but I also think there’s more to this than just something in your head.”

“Jas, I love you to pieces, and I’d like to think you’re right, but that doesn’t change my reality: my time spent in that place damaged me, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I don’t want to end up like Mom and hide it deep down inside, where it’ll explode sometime later.”

With me using the Arcane, we made quick work of the remaining two beams and clucked at our oxen to pull the wagon back. I shivered and rubbed my hands.

“Card, there’s something wrong with you,” Jas said.

“Yeah,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I noticed.”

“No, I mean really. Your breath is frosty.”

I sighed. Well, if nothing else, both of my old teachers were going to eat with us tonight, so I had two pairs of trained eyes in one place. “Okay, I’ll ask Evelyn and Elsharin to look me over this evening. Happy?”

“It’s a start. What about one of your friends from the Cathedral?”

“I didn’t know that Trevor counted as just ‘one of my friends’,” I teased. Jas was, after all, the last member of the family to figure out that the Knight and I were lovers.

“You know what I mean. One of the priests.”

I took off my work gloves and mopped my brow; despite the chill in my bones, I was perspiring. Maybe later this afternoon a dip in the pond would be a good idea. “I think Lukas and some of the others are over in Outland, but I’ve got enough contacts at the Cathedral that I could probably be seen by someone.” 

“Good. If they need somebody to provide an eyewitness’ account, I’ll be glad to oblige.”

“Not a bad idea, since by the time we get back to the house I’ll be fine,” I replied, amused by my brother’s choice of words. Evelyn made sure that all of us were taught rhetoric when we were growing up, and Jas’ command of language was much greater than the average Elwynn farmer.

Just Who ARE You, Really? Part 4 of 4

To conclude this mini-series of posts, I'm following up with the last two of my WoW Classic toons that have a persistent narrative (and also two of the other three toons to make it to max level). For these two I kind of veered more into the fictional realm than a summary, because I felt these were best told that way.

Linnawyn Songshine, Knight of the Silver Hand:

The demons never knew what hit them...

Linna is the third of the four Songshine children, and like her younger sister Cardwyn her life was changed the moment the Defias Brotherhood came to the family farm and demanded all of their metal. Unlike Card, however, she remained at the farm and soon volunteered to join the local patrols that the farmers of Eastern Elwynn organized to deal with the encroaching Defias threat. Daryn and Mona set aside land for weapons practice and the entire farm hastily constructed an extra building for barracks for the trainees. Calling themselves the Elwynn Rangers, Linna's father, Daryn, and a few other veterans of the Second War became the instructors for the patrols. 

While Linna took her work with the Rangers seriously, something began nagging at her in the nights while she tried to rest. At first, she thought it was concern for her little sister, but as the days dragged on she began to feel that she should be doing more to help out. That worry only grew when her sister visited the farm on her way toward Lakeshire, following up on a lead as to the identity of the Defias' leadership, and she returned two days later, gravely injured from an ambush on the road by the Defias. 

"There has to be more than this," she thought as she watched helplessly while Cardwyn was healed by a family friend and member of the Cenarion Circle.

When the Defias threat was finally broken Linna thought things would return to normal, but her concerns only worsened. It was then that she finally realized that what she felt wasn't concern, but a calling. 

Linna resolved to take the Oaths and become a Knight of the Silver Hand, but she didn't know how.

She spoke with one of Cardwyn's friends, a Squire, who told her that since she's not nobility, she must have two valid sponsors who vouched for her standing. Those sponsors had to be accepted by the Knights as valid sponsors; preferably they were Knights themselves, as his own sponsors were, or they were people the Knights were familiar with and trusted their judgement. 

Linna prevailed upon Cardwyn, fresh from the Defias campaign and hailed as the Hero of Westfall, to be one of her sponsors, and asked her old teacher, Evelyn Aldcock, to be the other. 

Upon taking the Oaths, training with a squad in Northshire and Elwynn, and then performing mop-up duty in Westfall, Linna's first assignment was to investigate reports of the Scourge in Duskwood. She arrived in Darkshire to find herself swept up in a mystery surrounding a ghastly prediction of doom from the town's mystic, Madame Eva. Meanwhile, Darkshire was beset on all sides by the undead, mysterious dark riders from Deadwind Pass, and the wolfmen called Worgen. As Linnawyn strove to uphold her duty to Darkshire and keep the darkness at bay, she dove into the mystery of this "Stalvan" and why his name was divined by Madame Eva as the source of the encroaching doom. Linna finally figured out the true danger Stalvan posed and defeated him in single combat, ending his threat.

Yet it was the strange, undead creature Mor'ladim who provided Linna with the greatest gift of all. She put Mor'ladim --the twisted undead form of the Knight Morgan Ladimore-- to rest. Upon returning to Ladimore's grave with the ring his daughter wore, who bade Linna to bury it with his bones to give him some peace, the shade of Morgan Ladimore appeared to her and presented her with his blade, Archeus. "It was forged to do good," he told her, "and though I have proved myself unworthy to hold it, perhaps you will carry on the Light through it."

Linnawyn returned to Darkshire, her eyes filled with wonder, and presented the sword to Sarah Ladimore, Morgan's daughter. "He gave it to you," she told the Squire. "Go and do great things with it, Sir Knight."

Ever since, Archeus has been at Linna's side through the long campaigns against the Dark Iron dwarves and rallying the people of Azeroth against the Silithids. She joined the Argent Dawn and kept the supply lines open so that her sister Cardwyn's brigade could assault Kel'Thuzad's fortress of Naxxramas.

It was the opening of the Dark Portal that signaled Linnawyn's stepping out from her sister's shadow and becoming a hero in her own right. She travelled to Outland, assisted in the assault upon Hellfire Citadel and investigated the disturbances of the marshlands west of there, but it was her work in defeating the schemes of Kael'thas Sunstrider and Illidan for which she is most remembered. 

Linna will tell you otherwise: her greatest accomplishment was the reuniting of a family once thought destroyed by the Scourge.

***

And finally, we come to Nevelanthana Dawnweaver. Of the bunch, she is the oldest in terms of when she was originally created, but the last to be created in Classic:

At least the inn at Tarren Mill is good
for close-up screenshots.

Neve and her younger brother Quintalan are the only Sindorei remaining from House Dawnweaver. The High Elves of Quel'Thalas had already absorbed a devastating attack by the Horde from the Second War and were slowly recovering when Arthas led the Scourge in an assault to take the power of the Sunwell and raise Kel'Thuzad. In those frantic weeks the Quel'Thalas Rangers were overwhelmed and their Ranger General, Silvanas Windrunner, was slain by Arthas, who raised her as yet another lieutenant in his army. The Dawnweavers defended Silvermoon City along with the rest of the Elven army, yet as the walls were breached they were separated. Neve and Quintalan joined a small group that fled to Sunstrider Isle, hoping to reunite with the rest of the house, yet the few refugees who trickled in only brought terrible news: their family was killed defending various parts of the city. 

When the Scourge left Quel'thalas, the remaining Elves met with their Prince, Kael'Thas Sunstrider, who christened them Sindorei, the Blood Elves. Neve and Quintalan were too young to join what was left of the army of Sindorei and instead remained behind to learn and rebuild.

Neve returned home to Fairbreeze Village and became the apprentice of Magistrix Landra Dawnstrider, who herself was once an apprentice of one of Neve's aunts. Despite the omnipresent gloom of the Dead Scar, news from the Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas that their people had found a permanent home away from the Scourge in Outland was encouraging. Magistrix Landra refused to leave Fairbreeze, but encouraged her pupil to represent both her House and the village in all of her dealings with the outside world. "You are the head of House Dawnweaver," she told Neve, "and a Dawnweaver always takes her responsibilities seriously."

Neve traveled south to Tranquillien and became an instrumental part in defeating the Scourge in the Ghostlands. Due to her leadership and bravery in the face of the horrors out of Deatholme, she was selected by the Regent-Lord of Quel'Thalas to present the formal petition to join the Horde to the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, Silvanas Windrunner. 

The former Ranger-General did not know Neve personally, but she did know of the Dawnweavers. She spoke with Neve at length about the loyalty and dedication her House had to the Quel'Thalas Rangers in her past life, and the young Mage's heart swelled with pride. With a few words of encouragement and a separate written recommendation, Sylvanas sent Neve to Orgrimmar to tender the petition to the Warchief of the Horde, Thrall.

The Warchief was somewhat less receptive of the Blood Elves joining the Horde than Sylvanas, but he could find no fault in the petition itself. Surrounded by Orcs more than twice her mass, Nevelanthana remained impassive while she waited for Thrall's council to complete their debate. 

"It is done," the Warchief finally announced. "The Sindorei shall join the Horde." 

Flush with the success of her diplomacy, Neve returned home with the news. As a reward, the Regent-Lord sent Neve out to the Horde communities, as both an ambassador and a resource to assist their new allies as much as possible. 

Neve travelled throughout Azeroth, staying true to her heritage as a Dawnweaver and supporting their new allies as she could. In time, Neve eventually received a summons to Orgrimmar. "You must go to the Outlands," one of the Warchief's advisors told her. "Both the Horde and the Alliance have a foothold in the lands beyond the Dark Portal, but our grip is tenuous. We need leadership there that you and your brother can provide." 

Up until that moment, Outland had been a dream, just out of reach. And now it was within her grasp. Neve and Quintalan travelled to the Dark Portal and crossed over.

They stood on the steps, staring out into the hellscape before them, shocked. This was not the golden land promised the Sindorei.

"What other lies have we been told?" Neve asked her brother as they ate their first meal at Thrallmar. "Even with the Dead Scar, Eversong is much more beautiful than this."

Resolving to find the truth of things, Neve threw herself into the work. And as she soon discovered, the lies grew larger and larger until she wondered just what her people actually stood for. "I am a Dawnweaver," she told herself, "and a Dawnweaver finds the truth."

The moment she set foot in Shattrath City, Neve began to hear the rumors. 

A Mage slew Kel'Thuzad in his fortress of Naxxramas. A Human Mage trained by a Queldorei.

And that Mage wore a distinctive tattoo on her shoulder: the sun's rays woven into cloth.

The Dawnweaver Crest! Uttering yet another Dawnweaver-ism under her breath, Neve pursued the rumors as to this mysterious Mage's whereabouts. She was in the south, in Nagrand, it was said. No, she was to the West, in the marsh. Or she was in the far North, in the mountains. 

But it was in the crumbling wastes of the Netherstorm that Neve found what she most dreaded: that her people had been deceived, and that their Prince had joined with their ancient enemy, the Burning Legion. It was bad enough that Kael'thas Sunstrider would lead his forces against their new allies, but to betray everything that the Sindorei ever stood for was difficult to accept. 

"I don't know how much more of this I can take, Quin," she admitted to her brother as they listened to the various factions argue in the crumbling ruin of what passed for an inn. "I need to believe in something, and it feels like everything has been stripped away. If I could only find this Mage, maybe knowing we're not alone would give me some faith to keep pushing on."

"Surely there aren't that many dark haired Human Mages out there with the crest on their shoulder," Quintalan replied. "Naxxramas or no."

"Excuse me," a new voice interrupted. A blonde human woman wearing the tabard of the Argent Dawn sat down next to them. "You were talking about a Mage and Naxxramas," she said in passable Thalassian. "You were looking for someone?"

"Yes," Neve said in a this-is-none-of-your-business tone of voice.

"I helped to keep the supply lines open during the assault on Naxxramas," the woman replied, ignoring the cold shoulder.

Neve and Quintalan looked at each other. "It's the best lead we've got so far," Quin shrugged.

"Very well," Neve sighed. "We've heard the rumors that a Mage slew Kel'Thuzad. A human Mage with dark hair."

The woman's eyes lit up. "Yes, the rumors are quite persistent, aren't they? But there were two women matching that description in that final assault."

"Two?" That thought had not occurred to Neve.

"Yes, although I don't know who actually dealt the final blow. I don't think either of them know, to be honest."

"Well, then..." Neve paused and sucked in her breath. "We've heard that... one of them was trained by a Queldorei."

The woman's eyes grew even brighter if that were possible. "Oh yes, that's true. I don't know about the other, but I definitely know one was apprenticed to a Queldorei."

Neve clutched at her brother's hand. "Do... do you know this Queldorei's name?"

"Elsharin Dawnweaver."

Closing her eyes, Neve began to cry. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "it's just been so long... Where can I find this Mage? I've looked all over Outland for her."

"Oh, that's because she's not in Outland."

"How do you know this?" Quintalan demanded.

"Because she's my sister, that's how," the woman grinned. "Linnawyn Songshine, Knight of the Silver Hand, at your service. My sister Cardwyn is back at home on the family farm, recovering from the Naxxramas campaign. Would you like to meet her?"

EtA: Corrected some grammar.

EtA: Can't believe I missed Elsharin's family name. Oops.

Words of Warning

(Normally, these pieces of fiction percolate in my head and in draft form for quite a while before I'm satisfied enough to release them into the wild. This time it was a bit different.

I wrote this very quickly, within the span of a few hours, and it passed through a couple of basic tweaks after I removed one big chunk that really had nothing to do with the story at hand. I'm not totally satisfied with it, but the release of Wrath Classic forced my hand.

As you probably know from reading the blog, I'm not fond of the entire Malygos questline. It makes no sense, and even if you knew the comics and/or other fiction Blizz puts out that isn't in game (see: why the hell Varian Wrynn is King of Stormwind in Wrath of the Lich King and not his kid) it still doesn't make sense. But it is what it is, and I'm determined to make some lemonade out of the lemons that Blizz presented us with.

Hence this piece.

As is usual, this is a piece of short fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or dead (or a dragon, I suppose) is purely coincidental and really, I'd have to ask if you've been dropping acid if you think dragons are real. Card and company are property of Redbeard, who thought up this whole mess. Blizz retains the rights to their characters and setting; this was based on Wrath of the Lich King Classic, and not Retail.)

Words of Warning

by Redbeard

“Do you really have to go, Aunt Cardwyn?” Lewys asked me for what had to be the twentieth time today.

My nephew flopped on my bed and propped up his chin with his hands, while he watched me organize my pack. He was flanked by his younger sister Starlys, whose face was contorted into a permanent pout. Their big sister, Carys, made her displeasure known by her pointed absence from my room, in the vain hope that giving me the silent treatment would make me come to my senses and stay back at the farm instead of heading off to Northrend, the fabled northern continent where the Kingkiller Arthas ruled.

“Yes, I really do,” I replied with a sigh. The kids were making this harder on me than they likely knew, as once my temper cooled off after the flashbacks from Naxxramas I found myself reluctant to leave home. I had made the commitment to finish what I’d started, to see Kel’Thuzad destroyed once and for all, but I was afraid. I knew what it was like inside that dreaded floating citadel, and I would have to walk those passages once more, facing old enemies that no doubt could smell my fear.

“Why?” Starlys demanded. “Why are you going, Car-wyn?”

“Because Kel’Thuzad is back, kiddo. You won’t remember this since you were just a baby, but a couple of years ago Kel’Thuzad led the Scourge in an invasion of Stormwind, and the Scourge even attacked the farm. Auntie Evelyn sent Carys to Stormwind to find me, and I brought friends here to help fight them off.”

“Oh!” Lewys exclaimed. “I remember that! Elsharin came and brought Elves with her!”

It would figure that my nephew was more impressed with Elsharin bringing some Silver Covenant Rangers here than seeing my friends, since they played Rangers and Trolls just like I did when I was their age. Still, my mistress never let on exactly how she pulled that off; she only vaguely mentioned that someone owed her a favor.

“Yes,” I replied, stuffing another article of clothing into my pack. “When that attack was over, I swore an oath that I would defeat Kel’Thuzad for threatening your lives. I thought I’d fulfilled it when we killed Kel’Thuzad, but he won’t stay dead.”

“Can’t you just stay here and protect us?”

“I wish it were that easy, Lewys. But if Naxxramas comes here to Elywnn, we likely have lost everywhere else. Even in Orgrimmar and Ironforge. It’s better to defeat them far away from home, so the rest of Azeroth can fight together.”

“Like how Auntie Evelyn fought at… Hyjeel?”

“Hyjal.”

“Yeah, at Hyjal.”

“Yes, like that.” Mistress Evelyn spoke about that battle in only vague terms, but out of that she gained far more sympathy for the plight of the Orcs than in all those years of the Second War. A sympathy, I might add, that was not shared by Mom and Dad. Still, the formal letter from Thrall thanking me for my part in defeating would-be usurper Rend Blackhand was framed and hung on the wall in the house. “I’m going to fight the Scourge far away so that they never come here to the farm.”

“We’re going to miss you, Aunt Cardwyn,” Lewys added.

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.” I wanted so much to tell him that he had a talent for Magecraft, but I didn’t want him to get a huge ego over it. Better to let it lie for now and me just be there to nudge that talent along slowly than try to force things. “While I’m not around, you three are supposed to keep up your studies with Auntie Evelyn, right? I’m sure she’ll keep you busy so the days will just fly on by.”

“Hmmph.” Starlys doubled down on her pout.

“Well,” I said, cinching my pack closed, “that’s most everything I need. I can always come back and grab something if I missed it, so I’m sure that I’ll see you three from time to time. After all, it’s nice and warm down h—”

A shadowy blur zipped past my window, followed by Carys shouting something outside.

Fate and Circumstance

(The genesis of this story was provided by my questing buddy, who was inspired by the Wrath Classic Beta Test. She provided part of the story as well as the overall plot, and I filled in the rest and edited the overall story. As the two of us collaborated on the entire thing, she and I share the authors' credit for the tale.

I wanted to release this before the Wrath Classic pre-patch, but trying to fit in the last bit of editing while being knee deep in Blaugust 2022 wasn't exactly the smartest thing I've ever done. Still, it's finished, and here it is. 

Some final notes: This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to any people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Honest! Any characters created by Blizzard for WoW Classic, TBC Classic, and Wrath Classic remain their property. This work of fiction uses WoW Classic, TBC Classic, and Wrath Classic as the reference points, no other version of WoW. This was written by Redbeard of Parallel Context and Zargala-Myzrael, 2022.)

Fate and Circumstance
By Redbeard and Zargala

“Okay Lewys, once your mom uses the paddle to move the bread to the edge of the oven,” I instructed, nodding at Karyn who nudged a golden-brown loaf over, “then it’s your turn.”

My nephew Lewys stood atop a chair in the kitchen, knitted his brow in concentration, and whispered the short poem I gave him. We’d been practicing for this moment for a couple of weeks, and now all I could do was wait. I bit my lip as I stood behind him, watching helplessly as wisps of the arcane came to life and swirled around us. He finished, reached for the bread, and dropped it into the cloth covered basket beside him.

“I did it!” he shouted, jumping up and down on the chair. “It was just like you said, Aunt Cardwyn! Once I got done with the poem the bread was cool enough to move!”

“You sure did, kiddo,” I exhaled, grabbing him from behind and ruffling his hair. “It’s all in the patience and the poem. Do you think you can now help your mom and Grandmama out on baking day?”

“Yeah!” Lewys turned toward my brother’s wife and gave her a hug. “Mom, I did it! Woo!”

“Good job, Lewys!” Karyn smiled with relief as she set the paddle down and returned the hug. She then looked over at me with a question in her eyes.

“He certainly did it,” I echoed and nodded.

“Good,” Mom replied, tapping her foot. “Then the two of you can help us finish up faster.”

“Well,” I said, scraping my foot on the floor, “I don’t want to take away the job I just gave him.”

“Okay then, maybe you should go check to see if something needs doing, like turning the manure.”

“Mom!”

“Caaard!” she replied, a grin spreading across her face.

I sighed. No matter how old I got, I was always going to be her kid. “Okay, okay, I’ll go check it out. But Lewys,” I added, turning back to my nephew, “remember to whisper the poem after your mom moves the loaves over, okay? It’s all in the timing.”

“Got it, Aunt Cardwyn! You go turn that manure!”

“Uh… Right.” That kid was picking up all sorts of bad habits from Mom.

That's my secret: I'm always motivated

(Apologies to Bruce Banner for that modified quip.)

Something that nobody --and I do mean nobody-- has ever asked me in my years of writing is how I stay motivated.

Probably that has something to do with the size of the reader base of this blog, which I'm pretty sure is around 30-ish regular readers, when you filter out the web crawlers, spambots, and the individual spikes due to someone linking a post back to PC. Sure, a lot of the articles may eventually reach about 100 hits, but that's a long, slow drip-drip-drip over the course of months.

We used to have more regular readers, back when the major WoW/MMO watering holes were active*, but you could tell almost instantly when a site went dark because we'd see a corresponding drop in traffic. In my experience, people didn't migrate from a central watering hole to a Feed Reader, they simply stopped reading. People didn't come here for WoW (or MMO) news, for that they'd go to Wowhead or WoW Insider/Blizzard Watch or Massively/Massively Overpowered.

I've said numerous times over the years that if you're looking for validation by having people read your blog, you're going to be disappointed. Once you make peace with the reality that blogging is a niche format and very few people break through into the greater consciousness by blogging in this day and age, you'll be fine.

***

So that does beg the question: why keep blogging? Why stay motivated?

Well, I'd be lying if I said that I don't get any gratification at all from PC. When I see the page views go up after I posted something, I get that good ol' dopamine rush of "Hey, somebody wants to read this!" It's similar to that initial high you get when you discover that someone you've developed feelings for actually reciprocates. It's somewhere between "YESSS!" and "How did I get so lucky?", but before those doubts of "Okay, this can't really be happening, can it?" creep into your head.

That first time that Tam from Righteous Orbs commented here on the blog, I was about over the moon with excitement. Or when WoW Insider linked to a series of posts I made, I had to be walking on air for an entire week.

Personal gratification notwithstanding, I have a confession to make: I've always wanted to be a writer, and blogging gives me that outlet.

I can turn my head from where I'm sitting right now and see this up on a bookshelf:

This wasn't the first book on Science Fiction and Fantasy that I'd read --Lord of the Rings and The Sword of Shannara had that beat by a few years-- but this was the first collection of short stories that I owned. I devoured the stories within and began hunting for more. When I realized that there were actual magazines that published F&SF short stories**, 

Some publications lasted only as long
as the driving force was alive, such as
Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine.
Given how well MZB's reputation aged over
the years, it's probably for the best.
(From ebay.com.)

and that publishing three short stories would qualify someone membership in the Science Fiction Writers of America, I made it a goal to try to get published. 

I should add, this is despite my mother's obvious distaste for my dad's mother being a regular reader of Reader's Digest and Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, as if both were inferior products. My mom loved the cozy type of Mystery novels***, and I guess between the two major mystery magazines her tastes would have run more toward Ellery Queen than Alfred Hichcock's, but I interpreted her dislike as a putdown of the short story format itself, which motivated me all the more to try to write better. 

***

Here I am, over 40 years later, and I'm still not a published author.

There was a time when I used to get
a copy of this from the library
on a regular basis, so I knew what
the submission requirements were
for all of the F&SF magazines.
(From amazon.com)

Writing fiction, especially short fiction, is harder than it looks. 

Okay, I should qualify this a bit. 

Writing fiction is easy; writing good fiction is hard; writing good fiction that is publishable is harder still.

If you want to find out how easy it is to write fiction, go check out the fanfic websites. (I'll wait.) A lot of SF&F fiction put out on the web isn't very good, and that has nothing to do with the nature of fanfic itself. I've wondered about why the writing isn't that good, but having gone back and read some of the novels and short stories I read as a kid, I think I can understand why: the quality of stories back in the "golden age" of SF&F overall wasn't really good.

Oh, don't get me wrong: I loved those stories, but the writing itself needed work. 

A lot of SF&F writing back then had, well, a ton of info dumps. The concepts of world building were such that in order to set the scene, authors basically spent pages setting up the world rather than simply letting the story fill in the gaps along the way. There was also such an emphasis on getting the science right that the quality of the writing suffered as a result. 

And the Mary Sue/Marty Stu protagonists. Hoo boy, there were a ton of them.

That's not to say that I don't like a heroic character, because I do, but some of the protagonists in the stories back then were so perfect that I have a hard time going back and rereading them.**** I like characters who do heroic things, not heroic characters doing, well, their thing.

Because I internalized a lot of these stories in my youth, when I started trying to write my own fiction, it just didn't sound right. The flow wasn't there, and the info dumps didn't mesh well with how I wanted stories to proceed. The characters were either too good and perfect, or I'd swing too hard the other way and torture the characters for no good reason other than "the characters have to suffer or have angst" for it to be legitimately good fiction. And I'll be honest in that I hate that. As I've said many a time, if I want that out of a story, I'll watch the news.

"What about catharsis?" someone once asked me.

Thanks for saying so, Mr. Crews.
(From Brooklyn Nine Nine, meme from GetYarn)

"Catharsis is fine, so long as tragedies and black comedies aren't the only things you're consuming," I replied. "After a while, reading all that will merely get you depressed."

And when life is going shitty for you, or even just kind of shitty, reading tragedies --or their close cousins, the stories where tons of main and secondary characters die-- isn't exactly a big pick-me-up.

***

My writing foibles aside, when Souldat asked if I wanted to blog about WoW, I felt that at least here was my chance to actually write something and get it out there without any internal pressure to get published. I could just write, and by writing, improve my craft.

I'm grateful that over the decade plus I've been writing PC I haven't had people tell me that my writing sucks, or been critical of the overall quality of my work. And I'm doubly grateful for that because I've read some of my old stuff, and boy does it stink.

Truth.
(From youngwriterssociety.com.)

I have no idea what made me think I was "writing gooder" back then, because I wasn't. And I realize that a few years from now I'll look at these posts and groan to myself about how terrible they are. I mean, I do that already with One Final Lesson, and that's the only story of that length I've ever finished and released into the wild. 

But that's the thing that keeps me motivated: the knowledge that I'm improving with every post I write. It may not be obvious to me now, but it will show up some years later. 

It's something that keeps me posting, because even if I never get published I'll at least have a body of work I can look back on.

"Well yes, but not in the traditional sense...
Wait, are you in Eversong?"

"Oh. Well, it's nice of you to keep up
with your Instructor's relatives."

#Blaugust2022

*Blogs such as Righteous Orbs, MMO Melting Pot, The Pink Pigtail Inn, Orcish Army Knife, and when WoW Insider (now known as Blizzard Watch) used to have a weekly update of activity in the WoW Blogosphere. All of these are either defunct (Righteous Orbs and MMO Melting Pot), have bloggers fall away from blogging (PPI), pass away (Orcish Army Knife), or just shut down their regular articles highlighting bloggers (WoW Insider).

**And still publish, despite the decline in circulation among paper magazines. Venerable names such as Analog (launched as Astounding Science Fiction in 1930) and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction (1949), and more recent fare (in a relative sense) of Asimov's Science Fiction (1977) still are kicking around. There are others out there as well, but I can always count on these three to be on the shelves at my local independent bookstore, right next to the two long running Mystery magazines Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine (1941) and Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine (1956). 

***I remember one time my mom's mother, my wife, and I had a conversation about books. Grandma told me about a book she was reading, and that my mom was interested in what it was like. "Oh, you wouldn't like it," Grandma had told her, "because there's sex in it." The fact that my grandmother knew her own daughter was too much of a prude to enjoy a novel she obviously liked tickled me to no end. That was when I realized that my grandmother was far more comfortable with sex and modern society than her own daughters were.

****This is a problem even with current fiction. There was a novella in one of the magazines I have from the mid-2000s --I think it might have been Analog-- who had a protagonist that was smart, scientifically trained, witty, and athletic. I struggled to find any flaws in him at all. Ironically enough, I found a novelette in a 1986 Analog magazine, The Barbarian Princess by Vernor Vinge, that turned the Mary Sue concept on its head. 

I think I still have my copy
around somewhere, but this came
from abebooks.com.

Even though Tatja Grimm was definitely the Mary Sue type, that didn't mean she was perfect. And seen from another character's point of view, which is how the novelette is told, their own internal biases against the "barbarians" played heavily into making that an enjoyable story.

EtA: Corrected some grammar. As usual.

Cardwyn vs. Nevelanthana

Given that I have a pair of Mages --okay, more than a pair, but I count Deuce as merely an extension of Cardwyn 1.0-- I'm at that point in their respective careers that I'd like to do something that I call...

Who wore it better?

After a certain point, my Mages run through the same gear because, well, you're not always going to get BiS gear all the time while leveling. I mean, if you wanted to you could try to run Shadowfang Keep a lot, but there's absolutely no guarantee you won't outlevel the place by the time you do get into enough runs to pick the keep clean of Mage gear. The same goes for Scarlet Monastery's Library and Cathedral wings; the original Cardwyn needed well over a half dozen runs of SM:Cath to finally obtain the often sought after Whitemane's Chapeau, and since Blizz tweaked leveling in the TBC Classic prepatch to speed up the L30s through to the L50s, you'll shoot right on past the Scarlet Monastery wings before you know it.

I have a definite preference for Frost Mages, especially when questing out in the field, so both Neve and Card have sewed together clothing with spellpower --and frost bonuses-- built in. The frost bonuses tend to show up in crafted gear in the Mageweave and Runecloth clothing, but the Azure Silk pieces do provide a lot of bang for the buck in terms of spellpower.

The first thing that pops into my head
is "Halloween Sexy Pirate costume"...

...and the second thing is
"that sunburn would suck."

Given that the ideal levels for wearing this gear would put you right in the middle of in more temperate and tropical areas, such as Stranglethorn Vale, Hillsbrad Foothills, Thousand Needles, and Arathi Highlands, it kind of makes sense to wear something suited for the weather. And without the robes, a potential enemy could quite easily underestimate who they're dealing with. 

Fiction wise, a clever Mage (or two) could take advantage of that to blend in with the crowd at Menethil Harbor, Booty Bay, or other seaports. While a Warlock could as well, their reliance on demons would kind of make them stand out unless they go to great lengths to hide their "pets".

Does the Warchief need someone to investigate the fire at Shady Rest Inn without causing a stir among the Tauren clans? Send a "traveler" capable of blending in with the surrounding swamp. 

Would the few Alliance soldiers who rebelled against Colonel Kurzan's insane ramblings send a fully armored Paladin to infiltrate Kurzan's camp? Oh HELL no; they'd send someone clothed for the jungle and looks like a "companion" of one of the troops. Someone who'd call down fire and ice in a pinch.

Admittedly, a Rogue or a feral Druid would do the job as well for either situation, but if you want a wielder of the arcane who can blink their way out of trouble or turn an enemy into a block of ice, you send someone who looks. like. this.

***

The other piece of gear Deuce and Neve share at the moment is what I'd describe as a "flex" piece, the Robe of Power. 

It takes some effort to amass the material for the Robe, typically spending an evening farming elementals in Arathi Highlands for the additional materials, but you're rewarded with a robe that is better than that found in Shadowfang Keep or Scarlet Monastery's Library wing, and is the equal of anything found in Uldaman. As it's a bind on pickup piece, you have to be a Tailor to make it for yourself.

The look is totally worth it as well.

The difference in attitude between the two
are pretty striking, even though they're
wearing the same robe. Card has that
earnest look...

...while Neve's is more haughty. 
It's kind of safe to say that most
Queldorei and Sindorei give off that
slightly arrogant look, but that's
strictly outward appearances.

If a Mage or Warlock ever needed a piece of formal wear before presenting themselves before Society, this would be it. While the Robe of Power is, well, a very powerful piece that holds up well until Runecloth gear comes into play, it emanates that "I don't get my hands dirty dealing with the peons" 80s Yuppie attitude. You could look at this robe and think that the wearer is a part of upper class society and not be that far off in your observation. 

You don't have to be from Dalaran or Quel'Thalas to be thought of as a mover and shaker while wearing the Robe of Power. 

***

So... Who really did wear it better?

Eh... Six of one, half dozen of the other. 

Neve's attitude fits more effortlessly into both outfits, but Card just has that Everywoman look about her that you can't help but like. As a Sindorei, Neve has what I'd call a "runner's build", but her attitude does make her stand out in a crowd. She is very much a leader, and it shows. Cardwyn, on the other hand, is someone who is, well, "normal", but also somewhat naive in her outlook. That naivete can be endearing as well.

When I created both toons I had these ideas in my head for what I wanted out of them, and as time has gone on I've been surprised at how well they've been borne out. The one thing I will say is that you can't judge a book by its cover, and certainly these two do fit that in spades.

I'm actually quite curious how these two will compare in higher level gear going forward.

EtA: corrected a grammatical error.

Blizz Cut the Ad Budget, I See

That snarky little comment is because of the WoW Classic announced XP buff for the four weeks prior to Wrath Classic's launch.

The buff's name?

Joyous Journeys.

Sometimes you can't just make this stuff up, because when I read that my first thought was "So... when you finish a Joyous Journey, is there a Happy Ending?"

In case you have no idea what a "happy ending" is, go look it up in the Urban Dictionary. I'll wait.

Okay, maybe I have a twisted sense of humor, but it just tumbled off the tongue so easily that someone inside Blizz just had to have pointed this out to management.

***

Humor aside, I suppose that's my cue to push forward and finish Card's journey to L70, because I want to complete that before I get any unintended "boosts" to her. I'd like to think that the Joyous Journeys 50% XP buff is going to be a clickable buff, but I kind of doubt it. 

For a quick update, Card is sitting at L69* and about 50% through to L70. Neve is presently breathing down her neck at L69 as well, and about 40% of the way through to the end. It's gonna be a race to see who finishes first, and it'll depend upon how busy I am early in the day when I tend to grind some mobs on Card. 

And Neve's brother?

The hormonal scamp is busy hanging out at Lord Saltheril's party in Eversong forest.

Sigh. Must be the hair.

But that's not all he's been up to. Apparently some of Neve's friends were unaware that her younger brother was all grown up...

I've had this conversation before with
friends of my own brother.

And he still carries good wishes from Neve's old Magistrix when he visits Fairbreeze Village.

*Yes yes, I know. Insert crude joke here.

Letters from Outland, Part 4

Dear Sis--

I'm writing this while I'm taking a break from the fighting. It seems that the Burning Legion has a never ending supply of infernals to drop on both the Alliance and Horde fortifications in the poorly named Shadowmoon Valley, and both factions are hard pressed to keep the supply lines open.

Here at Wildhammer Hold, I can only dream of the hellscape that greeted me when I first crossed the Dark Portal and think "Ah, for the good old days." I'm sure the contingent at Honor Hold would disagree, but when the sky is on fire you tend to have a different outlook on life. 

A pleasant land this ain't.

Any other name would have likely been a better one than Shadowmoon Valley, which sounds closer to something near Astranaar than Outland, although I'm told by an Orc whom I knew back in our Argent Dawn days that the Valley takes its name from the Shadowmoon Clan, who led the Orcs straight into the Legion's lap all those years ago.

Vindicator Aluumen has told me he feels that Illidan will strike more directly against our fortifications in the coming days, but he also thinks that Illidan is caught between a rock and a hard place. As hard as the Legion is hitting us, they're also preparing to strike against Illidan himself. I guess with a name like 'The Betrayer', Illidan has a certain reputation to uphold, and he appears to have double crossed the Burning Legion too. 

Every time I turn around, the uglier
Illidan's troops get. At least they all die.

Even if we overcome the odds and hold our ground, we need to break both of our enemies before we have a chance to bring a measure of peace to Outland.

Hmm... Since I name dropped the title "Vindicator", I guess I should explain a few things about Draenei society that I've learned over my time spent here. The Draenei have their equivalent of the Knights --the Vindicators-- and the Priests --The Anchorites-- but they also have their version of military commanders, the Exarchs. These roles used to be allowed to specific genders only, such as that up until recently had been the case with the Night Elves and Tauren, but the need for bodies has broken down their rigid conservativism.* The fact that my friend Zarlie is an Anchorite is now by choice rather than by societal expectations. She informs me that her sister is yet another classification, a Farseer, who follow the ways of the elements akin to the Shamanism of the Orcs, Tauren, and Trolls.

I've also heard whispers about the Draenei Keepers of the Dead, the Auchenai, but only from the Lower City. While apparently they do exist, the great City of the Dead, Auchindoun, was destroyed in a disaster only a few years before I crossed the Dark Portal, and the Auchenai who survived have, well, gone a bit crazy. I don't know if it's the "everybody died and I can't handle it" sort of crazy or not, but what I've heard is that the Auchenai have been experimenting with things that you'd find more out of the Cult of the Damned than any Draenei organization.

Draenei may have a distinctive outlook on life, but they are by no means a monolithic race. The only thing that truly unites them is their hatred for the Burning Legion. Well, not hatred per se, but probably closer to disappointment. Apparently many of their brethren were tempted by the "gifts" offered by the Legion and chose to join the Legion instead of rejecting them, and those fallen Draenei are now commanders and leaders among the Legion's forces. 

Uh.... I was in the crate.
"Please don't look... Please don't look..."

Despite all that, I've grown to like them during my time here. I now know how you feel being the "shorty" of the household, as I've discovered that when you're surrounded by Draenei even the Kaldorei can appear small. The Draenei may at first glance seem overly pious and sanctimonious, but once you get to know them they open up quite a bit and are quite capable of incredibly bawdy behavior. Like the Elven kindreds, they have an unconscious grace and strength that can be quite stunning. 

I'm not entirely convinced they're so
uptight that they won't drink, but it's
worth a try sometime.

Either way, the Draenei have decided that the Alliance is their future, and so we have to learn to live with them. They have suffered under a certain amount of suspicion by our troops because people know their brethren from the Legion, but it's also intimidating to meet someone who is smarter, stronger, faster, and more graceful than you, who is also more sanctimonious than High Priestess Laurena. (Don't tell her I said that!)

Now that I've been on assignment here in Shadowmoon Valley, I can say that despite first impressions the place has not been totally abandoned by people. I know of a few scattered farms here and there, particularly on the northern edges of the Valley, where some Orcs refuse to leave and instead eke out a living. I've become rather fond of one Oronok who has a ranch high up away from roaming elementals; I can tell he took up ranching late in life as he still makes some basic mistakes, but I've learned not to pry too much. Like many Orcs, he has demons in his past that he'd just as soon forget, and if keeping a watchful eye on his helboars helps, I'm not one to tell him otherwise.

Angry elementals are everywhere. An organization of Shamans called the Earthen Ring has been trying to placate them without much success, and given the response from our leadership --which is mostly "get out of here, I'm busy"-- I can see why. I've been helping to get them some answers from the elementals, but not much has come of it so far. 

...except for the case of heartburn
I've got right now. Another Fire Lord?

Nonetheless, we've also had our run-ins with more of those avian types. Apparently one of them turned traitor, which is good for us, because their companions were going to try to summon forth what looks like an Old God straight into Outland. Given how much trouble they gave us at Ahn'Qiraq, I was more than happy to take on that assignment and destroy their summoning attempt.

That certainly matches a description
I'm sure you're familiar with.

Good riddance.

One more thing. I realize that this will probably hurt Elsharin, but I've encountered many of her ex-brethren here in Shadowmoon Valley as well. The Sindorei who still follow Kael'Thas have a base here --originally they had two, but the Sindorei following the Na'aru took over one of them-- and I've had to kill more than my share of this Sunfury regiment. I've even had to go undercover for a while, and thank goodness that I got to know your teacher, or I'd never have been able to pull it off.

I actually look pretty good as a redhead
and wearing pointy ears. Don't ask
where the ears came from; I'm not proud of that.

It's all in the walk. And the attitude.

The more I've seen these Sunfury Elves in action, the more disgusted I am with them. Have they all been duped? Do they honestly feel that they are on the side of justice? Do they simply not care and just want power any way they can get it? If it's that last one, they're likely going to end up allying with someone who can claim they provide it, and I'm afraid I know who that is. 

Elves and Draenei. These two should have been allies from the start, but Illidan and the Legion --and truth be told, us Humans kind of messed up a bit too-- got in the way. I'm rambling at this point, so I ought to finish up and go to bed soon. I've a long patrol tomorrow that takes me near Illidan's stronghold, nicknamed The Black Temple.

Be well, and give everyone my love!

--Linna

*Again, Mistress Evelyn's grammar lessons came in handy!

EtA: Corrected a grammar issue.

Card--

If you are reading this, you saw my hidden message and guessed how to bring this out. 

I am being stalked. 

I don't have any proof of it yet, but I have this uneasy feeling that my movements are being closely watched, and someone is waiting to strike. It is not simply paranoia at work out here, although at first I thought it was the case, but I know that someone is after me for my knowledge.

A short time ago, I discovered something that could potentially tip the balance of this whole campaign in our favor, and I've been keeping this secret ever since. About a week or two later, I started noticing small things around, like evidence that my bags had been sifted through or that my gear wasn't put back exactly the same way I usually do, and as a test I deliberately moved something in my pack to another location, and when I returned from patrol I found that thing in not the same place. 

As of now, I can't go to my commander without divulging the secret I'm sworn to keep. If you don't hear from me after 2 months, something likely has happened. I don't think whomever is tailing me will kill me, as they likely want to get information out of me. But if you don't hear from me, I need you. This is more important than me or my life; when I took the Oaths to become a Knight, I swore to uphold certain things, and this is one of them. I need you to do two things. First, contact a Broken in Shadowmoon Valley named Olum and tell him "The Light provides." He will know what to do. The other thing is to contact Zarlie; she will have knowledge of where I have been, and if Olum can't be found you should be able to piece things together with what she knows.

I believe in you, Sis. You can do this. So give Naxxramas the middle finger and get out here. There's a job that needs finishing, and a Songshine's word is always good.

--Linna