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| 15 | Hello Morgan,
Business in Goldshire is brisk, so brisk that I haven't had time to send you any shipments! I commissioned the person bearing this note to bring you a package of large wax candles (you know, the ones the Kobolds like to wear on their heads?). Please give this person our thanks, and fair payment. |
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| 16 | To the Honorable Headmaster Crillian,
My former Master, I write to you so that you might know what your apprentice has been doing of late. Paying heed to your advice, I sought to build my knowledge and wisdom through travel outside the gates of our beloved Stormwind. My journeys took me to many places but I have decided to take up residence here in the lovely town of Moonbrook. The surrounding fields of Westfall are most beautiful as the harvest approaches. |
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| 17 | Within just a few days of my visit I found myself tutoring the local children from the nearby farmlands. The lessons went so well that the town mayor commissioned me to run a school and construction has begun on a brand new schoolhouse! From Silverpine to Stormwind and now Moonbrook -- who would have guessed I would see so much of Azeroth!
Warm regards, Stalvan Mistmantle |
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| 18 | Dear Noble Sir,
Word of your need for a tutor for your children has traveled to me here in Goldshire, where I take up temporary residence in the Lion's Pride Inn. Due to the unfortunate state of events in the region, I was forced to abandon my post as Headmaster of the Moonbrook Schoolhouse. Please accept my application to serve as tutor for your offspring. Headmaster Crillian of the Academy can speak to you of my abilities if necessary. |
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| 19 | I shall travel to meet you in person when the winter rains subside and the roads are suitable for travel once again.
Until then, Stalvan Mistmantle of Silverpine |
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| 20 | . . .Giles, the boy, seems a bit rambunctious and will be a challenge to educate. However the elder daughter, Tilloa, seems exceptionally smart. I couldn't help but to notice her captivating beauty as well. She is on the cusp of womanhood now. Supposedly the Lord has arranged her marriage for next year. But I digress. This week I will accompany the family to their summer cottage near the Eastvale Logging Camp in Elwynn, close to the Red Ridge Mountains. I hope to write more while there. | 0 |
| 21 | . . .most strange and uncontrollable feeling. Never have I felt the way I did today. Whilst assisting Giles with his history lesson, Tilloa was outside tending to the flower garden. After a few minutes she came inside and placed a scarlet begonia in my open palm and smiled at me in such a way that my heart felt as though it was trembling within my chest. . . . | 0 |
| 22 | . . .most certain that she shares the same feelings for me now. She even placed her hand on mine this morning. When she smiles, her eyes light up like glittering diamonds. Unspoken words pass between us. I can feel her in my pounding heart and heated veins. | 23 |
| 23 | . . .anger and fury the likes of which I never knew existed! How dare she. As I was instructing Giles in the meaning of numbers, Tilloa appears before me with a suitor, holding hands in public nonetheless! What an uncouth young man. Rather than introduce me properly, Tilloa simply said, "Oh that's just my tutor, Uncle Stalvan. He's a nice old man." Old! At that word my cheeks flushed with heat. I am but a few years older and yet she betrays. . . | 0 |
| 24 | . . .downward spiral of despair. First she mocks me and now she is engaged. The ungracious charlatan was pretending to love when truly she desired to hurt me all along. A black void lurks with in me now and it grows with each waking moment. The blood I shall spill pales in comparison to the tears I have shed. . . | 0 |
| 25 | Tommy Joe -
With each passing hour, my heart withers from your absence. Oh, if only our folks could see beyond the silly crimes they have done to each other, and know that the only true crime is hate. Hate consumes, and I fear in these dimming times that hate will take hold of more than just our families. If they realized this then we could, at long last, be together. It is for that day I hope, and for that day I live. Your love, Maybell |
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| 26 | Hello William, It's been years since we've spoken, but I trust you and your brother are well, and that your apothecary thrives. I must ask a favor of you, William. In short, my grandson Tommy Joe has lost his heart to young Maybell Maclure. And although they adore each other... our families, well our families have been feuding for years. |
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| 28 | Argus, As you know, I'm up to my neck in repair requests from the Army. I can't complain about all the work, but it's depleting my supply of iron. I don't have enough iron for horseshoes. I know you always keep a large stock--I'd like to borrow 50 pairs of shoes until I get my next shipment of iron. You have my gratitude, -Verner |
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| 29 | A note is attached to the crate. It reads:
"Verner - sorry to hear Redridge is having such trouble. Here are the shoes you need. Please pay me 100 silver at your earliest convenience." "Or if you like, you can pay me in underbelly scales from black dragon whelps (I hear Dragon Whelps are common in the Redridge Mountains). Because we're friends... 4 scales will be enough. Thanks --Argus" |
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| 30 | My Lord, War is upon us. Doom harkens from our doorstep. As Magistrate of the township of Lakeshire it is my duty to report the recent Military activity that has taken place in His Majesty's Easternmost colony. Contained within these pages you will find an account of the State of Lakeshire, nestled within the Redridge Mountains. |
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| 31 | The loss of Stonewatch Keep was very grave. In previous reports I detailed for you the alliance between the Blackrock Clan of Orcs and the Warlock known as Morganth. The Blackrock Orcs fought with horrific savagery, undoubtedly fueled by the evil magic of Morganth. Many of His Majesty's most valiant soldiers perished trying to defend the Keep but ultimately nothing could be done. | 32 |
| 32 | Oddly enough, Morganth turned on his Orcish cohorts shortly after their wretched victory. The Warlock constructed an arcane tower in the Northeast, and has used his powers to build a small army of Shadowhide Gnolls to serve his malicious biddings. Both Orc and Man have fallen victim to the viscous brutes that serve the Warlock. As to what betrayal took place between Morganth and Gath'Ilzogg, the Blackrock Warlord, one can only speculate at this point. | 33 |
| 33 | To our peril, the foul Orcs seem more concerned with the demise of His Majesty's good citizens. In the last fortnight the Blackrock Clan staged a ruthless offensive on Lakeshire. Many brave men lost their lives that grim day. The Orc forces advanced with such speed and fury that the bridge spanning Everstill was brought to ruin. Our war supplies have greatly dwindled. We lack bandages to mend the wounds of the fallen. | 34 |
| 34 | Now I ask of His Majesty to support the good people of Lakeshire in this time of need. We are in need of new soldiers to defend the territory as well as new instruments of war to replace those lost on the battlefield. Food and building supplies run low as well. Please, my Lord, help us keep the final bastion between Man and wretched Orc thriving. The Enemy must be kept out of the Kingdom of Stormwind. | 35 |
| 35 | I fear a greater and darker evil brewing in the cauldron of corruption that the Northlands have become. It is imperative that the Kingdom of Stormwind take action lest we seek to become fading memories to the living or slaves to the Enemy. Signed, Magistrate Solomon Township of Lakeshire Kingdom of Stormwind |
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| 36 | Honorable Magistrate Solomon: I mourn alongside with you for the dead. I shall see to it personally that the King is made aware of the situation and it is my fondest hope that I can bring reinforcements to Lakeshire. His Majesty has been scarce of late and acts rather oddly. I share this with you in confidence. Until then, General Marcus Jonathan Kingdom of Stormwind |
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| 38 | Stoutmantle --
Some nerve sending a total stranger to discuss the Defias gang. Once you saved my life and now you put it in great peril. But I owe you. The Defias Brotherhood is larger than you think. Every mine from Westfall to Elwynn Forest is under their control. Kobolds and Gnolls have been enlisted to do their dirty work. They have goblins crafting metal monsters to place in the Westfall fields to prey on the superstitions of the local residents. |
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| 39 | They have a vast underground network built. Bigger than you know, Stoutmantle. From Booty Bay right to Stormwind Keep. You may be a brave Paladin but you are a fool if you think you can shut them down. They are working on a weapon of mass destruction. After all, if there's one thing Stonemasons know, it's how to build big. You didn't think this was about pumpkin farms and vineyards, now did you? I repaid your favor. Now leave me be!
--W |
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| 41 | Lord Stoutmantle--
Led by Edwin VanCleef, the Stonemason's Guild was composed of the most skilled builders among men. The Stonemasons helped to rebuild the broken city of Stormwind that was razed by the orcs during the First War. VanCleef and his tradesmen were peerless builders and their work and artistry was evident in the edifices of the Cathedral of Light and Stormwind Keep itself. |
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| 42 | However, the nobles of Stormwind ran up a huge debt by expanding the kingdom's military presence through Elwynn and into Stranglethorn. The massive debt crippled the kingdom's economy and stripped VanCleef and his Stonemasons of their promised rewards. After spending years toiling to rebuild the glorious city, the Stonemasons were left broke, forgotten by the city's corrupt officials. | 43 |
| 43 | Having personally known Edwin VanCleef my entire life, I can tell you that facing him as a foe is quite a daunting task. You see, he was my childhood friend, and I personally trained him in the ways of the shadows thinking that one day he might consider a career alongside me. If VanCleef is heading up the Defias Brotherhood, may the Light have mercy on our souls.
Master Mathias Shaw Stormwind Assassin's Guild |
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| 45 | Good work, matey! Now ye need to head due east. East up the bluffs, east to the road. Look for the ol' chimney ruins near the side of the road. There you'll find an old barrel with your next clue. | 0 |
| 46 | Now from this here barrel, face ye North. Straight as the crow flies, keep ye walkin' till you see the empty jug next to the lone windmill on the sea bluffs. If ye poke around that jug, ye just might find what you're lookin' for. | 0 |
| 47 | Now that ye found me ol' whiskey jug, you're almost to the treasure! Just face West from the bottle and walk down to the shore. Once ye get to the water, keep going! Swim straight west till you find the island with me treasure chest! | 0 |
| 48 | Blacknails--
The Sea awaits us. We need your supplies from the North. Strip everything: every railroad pike, every waterbucket. We need metal. A shipment is due from BB but long overdue. Come through for me, Blacknails. Send your supplies directly to the "barn" this time. No time to squander. --VanCleef |
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| 49 | Lord Stoutmantle -- The Township of Lakeshire humbly requests the aid of your Militia. As I write this, we find ourselves under siege from both the Blackrock Orcs and Morganth's Shadowhide Gnolls. I would not send bidding if our situation was not severe. We await aid from Stormwind but until such help arrives, I beg of you to lend support. Once the Kingdom is breeched, all of Humanity is in peril. Magistrate Solomon |
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| 50 | Your Honor-- All of Westfall mourns for your loss, but we are plagued with our own war in Westfall. The farmers have been run off by thieves and mechanical golems. Stormwind withdrew its troops, leaving the people defenseless. I mustered the People's Militia in the wake of Stormwind's abandonment to save what remains of this land. To take the Militia to Redridge would mean certain doom for Westfall. My regrets, Gryan Stoutmantle |
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| 51 | Lord Ebonlocke--- The Township of Lakeshire humbly requests the aid of the Night Watch. We are under siege from both the Blackrock orcs and Morganth's Shadowhide gnolls. I would not send bidding if our situation was not severe. We await aid from Stormwind but until such help arrives, I beg of you to lend support. Once the kingdom is breached, all of humanity is in peril.- Magistrate Solomon |
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| 52 | Your Honor-- I regret to inform you that the Night Watch is unable to leave its post in Darkshire at this time. Perhaps you were unaware that Stormwind no longer provides military support in this region. The Night Watch has been formed and trained entirely by the people of the forest in order to defend Darkshire in Stormwind's absence. Without the Watch, the town would fall. I wish you luck with your plight. --Lord Ello Ebonlocke |
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| 53 | The letters on this note seem to flicker and dance across its surface. It is impossible to glean meaning from them... | 0 |
| 54 | Greetings Ello Ebonlocke, Mayor of Darkshire. I'm afraid I have news for your town. Grave news. You see, I am a creator. I fooled the bearer of this note into aiding me in my latest, most dire creation - a fiend of flesh and bone and twisted metal! As you read this, it's likely outside my humble dwelling, gnashing its teeth and waiting for my word to go forth and slaughter. But you'll know soon enough. -The Embalmer |
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| 55 | This is a deed to an expanse of land within the region of Westfall. It entitles the persons below with ownership rights of the designated area, as well as all items produced and any structures built within its borders.
The document is signed by: Theodore Furlbrow Verna Furlbrow |
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| 56 | [The words below were quickly scrawled on the back of the deed]
We leaned on Furlbrow and got his deed. Thought it might be handy if you wanted to forge one of these for your own place. The Furlbrows won't give us trouble. Last I saw them they were on their way out of Westfall, stuck with a broken wagon. |
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| 58 | A Moon over the Vale shines Casting its glow upon the jungle Where proud Warriors heed the call To defend our Nation and sacred grounds. A Moon over the Vale shines Far above the cries of battle Where blood is spilled Of foe and comrade alike. |
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| 59 | And when our brethren pass Into realms beyond the known The soul-spirit hardens Deep beneath the Vale. And when our brethren pass Into the Mountain's Temple We shall protect their eternal spirit Encased within the holy blue crystal. And when our brethren pass A Moon over the Vale shines. |
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| 62 | By moon and fire, By flesh and bone, Scribed in blood, Carved in stone. Leave this place Or meet your doom Death stands guard Over the Emperor's Tomb. |
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| 63 | Master Carevin,
The bearer of this note has shown <himself / herself> to be upstanding in the Light, capable of battling the undead and demons that plague the borders of Duskwood, and willing to join the Carevin family in their cause of Light. I would thereby suggest that you give this warrior of the Light further duties--perhaps to investigate some of the townsfolk that are under suspicion of succor to the enemies of the Light. Yours faithfully, Calor |
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| 64 | Morgan Ladimore was a great and noble knight who fought in defense of the innocent, the poor, and the afflicted. For many years, he worked diligently throughout the outlying areas of Azeroth, bringing relief to the suffering and swift justice to evildoers. He was married to a young girl named Lys in the summer of his eighteenth year. They were much in love with each other and would eventually produce three children, a son and two daughters. Morgan was thirty-two when war broke out in |
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| 65 | Lordaeron. Morgan was called to the side of the legendary paladin Uther the Lightbringer to fight against the orcs and the undead. Leaving his wife and children in the safety of his home, Morgan left for war. The years passed and the war dragged on, and Morgan would witness many horrific events, including the disbanding of the Paladins of the Silver Hand, the death of Uther and the spread of the plague. The only thing that kept him from the brink of madness was the knowledge that he would |
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| 66 | someday be reunited with his wife and children. Morgan would eventually return to his homeland, but find it nothing like how he remembered it. The once verdant forest was corrupted and teemed with the undead and other dark forces. Destroyed houses and farms could be found everywhere, and the cemetery near Raven Hill now dominated much of the area. A shocked and bewildered Morgan eventually made his way to his home, only to find it in ruins. Not knowing what had befallen his homeland, he |
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| 67 | headed towards the village to find answers, and, he hoped, his wife and children. Morgan inquired about his family, but could not find any answers. A priest in Darkshire, as it was now called, said that he might search the cemetery at Raven Hill for a gravestone. Morgan refused to believe that his family was dead, and continued to search every farm and house in Duskwood, but to no avail. Morgan rode from Darkshire to nearby Lakeshire, thinking that perhaps his family had fled. On his way |
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| 68 | there, he decided, against his better judgment, to stop by the Raven Hill cemetery. Morgan spent hours walking amongst the gravestones. He recognized many names of people that he knew and became more and more distraught. Then he saw them: a small, untended plot amongst the many with three small gravestones. A feeling of dread washed over him as he approached. Morgan brushed off the dust of the most prominent gravestone to reveal the name on it. Simply carved upon the grave, letters spelled out | 69 |
| 69 | his worst fear: Lys Ladimore Beloved Wife and Mother Morgan's apprehension turned to dismay and then to grief, and he fell to his knees weeping. For hours he stared at that one grave, begging the cold stone for forgiveness and sobbing apologies. Then, hours later, something in him snapped, and he began to lash out. He brought his sword out of its scabbard and began to rain blows on the gravestones, screaming in rage. Blind in his fury, he lashed out and swung wildly, catching the notice |
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| 70 | of a trio of the cemetery's attendants. As they tried to restrain him, he turned his focus to them, hurling accusations of guilt upon the innocent attendants, then killed them all. Later, when the rage had passed, realization crept into Morgan's mind, and he saw his bloody sword driven into the chest of one of the attendants. Driven to the brink by his emotions, he removed his belt knife and plunged it into his heart. Morgan Ladimore's body and the three bodies of his victims were found |
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| 71 | the next day. He was quickly buried, without ceremony, in a hastily dug grave on the outskirts of the cemetery. Because Morgan committed murder against innocents, something that went completely against his beliefs and his nature, and because of the grief that he held in being unable to save his family, Morgan could not die a peaceful death, and lived on as one of the restless dead. Only days later, his grave was disturbed, and his body could not be found. The being that was Morgan now |
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| 72 | wanders Duskwood, consumed by his grief over the loss of his wife and children and his own self-hatred. Mor'Ladim, as he now calls himself, roams Duskwood with mindless vengeance and hatred, and has been known to commit murder indiscriminately. | 0 |
| 73 | The terror of these past few weeks is almost more than I can bear; yet, I feel that by writing down that which I've seen I will somehow be comforted. So I do it, and it is the only comfort I have these bleak days. | 185 |
| 74 | DAY ONE The apprentice and I have arrived in Coldridge Valley today. The trip through the cave was mostly uneventful. We made camp a good distance away from the cave we're told the trolls have gathered in. DAY TWO Bloody wolf howling almost kept me up all night. I will have new wolfhide clothing in a few days. The lad got tangled up with a trogg today, put up a fight, and |
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| 78 | This Armor Marker is good for one piece of leather or cloth armor, redeemable at the Timberlain household within the Eastvale Logging Camp. | 0 |
| 79 | Below is the process and schedule of Defias gold collection from the mines of Elwynn to our headquarters in Westfall. Collection Schedule: Sunday: 12:30pm Wednesday: 12:30pm By each specified day, gold gained from the Elwynn mines will be gathered at the Brackwell pumpkin patch. The agent in charge of these gatherings, "The Collector," will be known by the engraved ring he possesses. A ring I gave him. |
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| 80 | Grelin, My time is short and many matters press on my time, and I hope that your investigation of the trolls will not be one of them. Therefore I will allow you to use my authority in dealing with the trolls in whatever fashion you deem necessary, more so if you are able to find an expedient solution. Magni Bronzebeard |
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| 81 | managed to get the better of the ugly brute, but he's now nursing a nasty cut on his arm. Looks like I'll have to do the chores for a while. DAY THREE Cold. Snowed a bit around noon. DAY FOUR The lad was back and in good spirits today, so we took our first look at the trolls. Frostmane, I'd say, judging by the markings on their skin and the various trinkets they wore on their bodies. |
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| 82 | DAY FIVE Had the lad watch over the camp and I snuck over to the cave and took a look around. The trolls' numbers are somewhat troublesome. The Mountaineers might have to be summoned in force if the cave is to be cleared of the troll infestation. I realize I have not mentioned the troggs of late. They appear in the area in greater numbers, but they are so primitive that they do not pose much of a threat. Time may say if this is true or not. |
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| 83 | And not a drop of ale for almost a week now. DAY SIX Cold again. Snows. Trolls. No ale. DAY SEVEN Snow below so white, Sky above so blue, Wolves will howl the night, Not a drop of brew. DAY EIGHT The trolls are perhaps not as large a problem as we initially thought. They have some |
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| 84 | numbers but are not well armed or organized. A small show of force should be more than adequate in dealing with the threat they pose. | 0 |
| 85 | My Journal The terror of these past few weeks is almost more than I can bear; why is it that by writing words into this book I can somehow keep the madness at bay? Perhaps it is as if I'm confessing my sins to a silent companion, or freeing my mind of these tortured thoughts and confining them to paper. I began a journal before this one, but it remains in a place to which I cannot return. So I will start afresh. But this time, I will start from the true beginning. |
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| 86 | A Report on the State of the Frostmane Trolls in the General Area of Coldridge Valley Prepared by Grelin Whitebeard, Senate Special Envoy From the time that I have spent observing the movement of the Frostmane trolls in the Coldridge Valley area, I have determined that they pose no large threat to dwarven settlements in the area. Moreover, they are a threat that can be eliminated with little additional support from the army. Through the assistance of Mountaineers already stationed in |
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| 87 | Coldridge Valley and mercenaries (paid with funds set aside by the Senate prior to my dispatchment), I am confident that the problem will be solved in short order. This action has been authorized with the sanction given to me by King Bronzebeard. |
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| 88 | A Report on the State of the Frostmane Trolls in the General Area of Dun Morogh The trolls situated in Dun Morogh are largely centralized in Frostmane Hold, a mountain cave on the western border. They have sufficient numbers to cause some concern, however, they seem more than content to stay in their cave. This is, no doubt, because they do not wish to incur the wrath of the dwarves again, and risk total extermination. Their actions can be considered territorial, if anything, and it is |
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| 89 | my belief that they pose no real threat to us, so long as we do not encroach upon their territory. This may be a situation unappealing to the dwarven populace, but given the dispersal of military resources, it may be prudent to relegate the extermination of the trolls to a lower level of importance, and continue to focus on the threat posed by the troggs and the Dark Irons. Enclosed, you will also find a copy of my brother Grelin's report on Anvilmar. Signed, Senir Whitebeard |
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| 90 | A Report on the State of the Frostmane Trolls in the General Area of Coldridge Valley Prepared by Grelin Whitebeard, Senate Special Envoy From the time that I have spent observing the movement of the Frostmane trolls in the Coldridge Valley area, I have determined that they pose no large threat to dwarven settlements in the area. Moreover, they are a threat that can be eliminated with little additional support from the army. Through the assistance of Mountaineers already stationed in |
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| 91 | Coldridge Valley and mercenaries (paid with funds set aside by the Senate prior to my dispatchment), I am confident that the problem will be solved in short order. This action has been authorized with the sanction given to me by King Bronzebeard. |
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| 92 | My Dearest Tarrel -
Excuse the haste with which this correspondence was written but time is not a luxury we have. The dig crew was making significant progress unearthing important Titan artifacts. But we began to discover other ancient objects, specifically large bones. |
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| 93 | Not long after the bones were dug up we fell victim to attack by Raptors. The battalion of men from Longbraid's regiment fought valiantly. But ultimately, they were overwhelmed. Nearly everyone perished. Only 3 of us survived. A laborer by the name of Ormer Ironbraid proved to be most heroic as he ensured the safety of myself and Prospector Whelgar. | 94 |
| 94 | We now take refuge in a sheltered cavern, seemingly out of harm's way. But we are indeed trapped until a force can be sent to reckon with the Raptors. Whelgar is trying to continue work but I suspect he is still quite frightened. That is our situation, Tarrel. Please urge Longbraid to muster a rescue force at once.
My love for you remains strong, even through this dire time. --Merrin |
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| 95 | The Green Hills of Stranglethorn Our first day went as well as one can expect first days to go. Most of our time was preoccupied with making the necessary arrangements to establish a base camp. I located an ideal setting by a freshwater river inlet. Judging by the old, abandoned docks nearby, this site was inhabited sometime ago. As for the original inhabitants, only time can tell that tale. |
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| 98 | In the years that followed, after Stormwind betrayed the Stonemasons' Guild, Sir Erlgadin grew bitter about the role of the nobles within the Kingdom. He no longer wished to uphold the position that his father's bloodline had earned for him in the House of Nobles. But I digress. The purpose of this story is not to act as a political treatise or a biography. This is the account of my experiences hunting big game in the green hills of Stranglethorn. |
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| 100 | Just as I was about to question Ajeck's lack of interest in the day's hunting strategy, she reached for her quiver, drew an arrow and unleashed a shot right towards poor Barnil. But it was not Barnil that Ajeck was shooting at. For when Barnil stepped aside, mouth agape, a large river crocilisk floated to the surface with Ajeck's arrow perfectly placed between his two large eyes. | 0 |
| 102 | During one such misstep, Erlgadin laid a heavy hand on Barnil's shoulder. Ajeck and I gave a casual glance, assuming the man was simply giving Barnil a much-needed scolding for his carelessness. Erlgadin, however, gestured slowly with his head toward a nearby fallen tree. Gazing back at us were two piercing black eyes just above a mouthful of razor sharp fangs. | 0 |
| 104 | The kill brought about a festive mood amongst the expedition. Barnil poured mead for all to enjoy. But our festivities were short-lived. As we were preparing the corpse for transport back to base camp we were all caught off guard by a horrendous growl. In all my years I have never heard anything so blood curdling. | 0 |
| 105 | On a rocky precipice above, silhouetted by the setting sun, I could make out the largest cat of prey I have ever laid eyes upon. I was able to loose one clumsy volley with my rifle, but the cat held his ground. He growled once again, this time louder than the first, and vanished. We gathered our belongings and headed solemnly back to camp. |
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| 108 | On this day we ventured to the south, following some fresh panther tracks. Soon we reached a ravine spanned by a tremendous rope bridge. I could not help but to think of Brann's descriptive writings of this region when I saw the engineering marvel. So often it was assumed that the native Trolls were a primitive and uneducated race yet as I gazed upon the master craftsmanship of the bridge I was able to recognize the skill with which the Troll builders overcame the seemingly impossible feat. | 0 |
| 110 | Both Ajeck and Sir Erlgadin stood poised, guns leveled at the bristling overgrowth at the base of the swaying trees. The midday sun beat heavily upon us. A slow trickle of perspiration trailed down from Elrgadin's temple as he pulled the pin back. Upon the sound of the click, the thick flora parted and a large black panther -- a beautiful specimen -- darted out onto the plain. | 0 |
| 112 | His gun tossed back violently in his arms. The barrel swooped sideways and came up beneath Ajeck's rifle. Ajeck had chosen that exact moment to pull her trigger. The rifle, the aim now knocked clumsily toward the tree line, went off with a distinct boom. A flock of birds screamed out of the canopy, scattering in every direction. A plume of smoke rose from the tree. We watched in awe as a tremendous branch fell squarely on the fleeing panther, breaking its back. | 0 |
| 114 | We set out at first light, heading south past the Tkashi Ruins. Barnil voiced concern that we might encounter members of the Bloodscalp Tribe. I reminded Barnil that the Bloodscalps were more concerned with destroying their tribal enemy, the Skullsplitters. Needless to say, Barnil was not comforted in the least. I, however, had a loaded rifle, a satchel full of gunpowder and three deadly hunters with me to ease any concerns of an unfriendly ambush. | 0 |
| 115 | I've stood before a towering Infernal on the battlefield, the army of the Burning Legion advancing from all directions. An unruly band of Trolls seems as harmless as a jackrabbit in the hills of Dun Morogh. We passed the Tkashi Ruins without event, much to Barnil's relief. The party proceeded to head westward, toward the Great Sea, skirting the Ruins of Zul'Kunda just to the south. As we ascended the high sea bluffs we spotted our first Raptor. |
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| 118 | Our hastily aimed shots were enough to buy Barnil's escape. Barnil clamored back down the hill and rejoined the party. We scurried off into the jungle; a pack of ferocious Lashtail Raptor's stalking our every move. The hunters were now the hunted. |
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| 119 | I led the party toward the sea, hoping the shoreline would provide refuge from the Raptors. In our haste we had drifted too far north, to a precariously high elevation. The mistake was made. The fault was mine. We stopped just short of a sheer cliff, the Raptors just a few paces behind. | 0 |
| 120 | I stepped slowly forward, gun raised. I had led these brave hunters to their death. I would die defending them. Lashtail Raptors are particularly fierce, known for their unrelenting blood-thirst. They far outnumbered us. But I would be damned if I let them kill me and my comrades without shedding some of their own blood first. | 0 |
| 121 | Ajeck and Sir Erlgadin readied their weapons, flanking me on either side, our backs to the sea. Barnil let out a defeated sigh and drew his axe. The Lashtails were almost upon us. Their steady stride had slowed. They were stalking their prey now for they knew they had us trapped. | 0 |
| 124 | The Green Hills Of Stranglethorn By Hemet Nesingwary |
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| 153 | Our first day went as well as one can expect first days to go. Most of our time was preoccupied with making the necessary arrangements to establish a base camp. I located an ideal setting by a freshwater river inlet. Judging by the old, abandoned docks nearby, this site was inhabited sometime ago. As for the original inhabitants, only time can tell that tale. | 154 |
| 154 | For this expedition I have assembled Ajeck Rouack and Sir S. J Erlgadin, along with my trusted servant, Barnil Stonepot. I fought alongside Ajeck's father's side in many battles in defense of the Alliance. Seeing her grown is quite special. Her father schooled her well in the ways of weaponry. Her skills with a bow make me wonder if there is elven blood running through those veins. | 155 |
| 155 | Sir S. J. Erlgadin comes from human aristocracy. His father, Count Erlgadin, was renowned for his generosity. It was the Count who lobbied for improved working conditions for the Stonemasons' Guild during the restoration of Stormwind after the Second Great War. | 156 |
| 156 | In the years that followed, after Stormwind betrayed the Stonemasons' Guild, Sir Erlgadin grew bitter about the role of the nobles within the Kingdom. He no longer wished to uphold the position that his father's bloodline had earned for him in the House of Nobles. But I digress. The purpose of this story is not to act as a political treatise or a biography. This is the account of my experiences hunting big game in the green hills of Stranglethorn. | 157 |
| 157 | We rose with the sun. Barnil began to prepare the morning meal. I noticed Ajeck's attention was somewhat distracted. The day's trek would be long and our hunt would bring us close to danger. A lack of focus could easily lead to an errant mishap. Yet Ajeck seemed unable to divert her gaze from Barnil who stood by the edge of the river rinsing out his mess kit. | 158 |
| 158 | Just as I was about to question Ajeck's lack of interest in the day's hunting strategy, she reached for her quiver, drew an arrow and unleashed a shot right towards poor Barnil. But it was not Barnil that Ajeck was shooting at. For when Barnil stepped aside, mouth agape, a large river crocilisk floated to the surface with Ajeck's arrow perfectly placed between his two large eyes. | 159 |
| 159 | We set out toward the west, through the thick overgrowth of the tangled jungle. Moving with slow, deliberate steps we paced through thick foliage in search of prey. The morning passed in frustrated silence. Nothing was stirring in the Vale, not even a breeze. By the afternoon, the expedition had grown restless Barnil no longer strode with the cautious steps of a predator tracking prey. Rather he clumsily clomped along the path often stepping noisily on dried leaves or fallen branches. | 160 |
| 160 | During one such misstep, Erlgadin laid a heavy hand on Barnil's shoulder. Ajeck and I gave a casual glance, assuming the man was simply giving Barnil a much-needed scolding for his carelessness. Erlgadin, however, gestured slowly with his head toward a nearby fallen tree. Gazing back at us were two piercing black eyes just above a mouthful of razor sharp fangs. | 0 |
| 161 | The beast was a male Stranglethorn Tiger. Before I could cock my rifle, Erlgadin raised his crossbow and fired upon the beast. The bolt missed its mark and caught the beast heavily in the left flank. The tiger made a futile attempt to flee but its wound was too grave. The beast stumbled for a few tragic seconds until Barnil finished the kill with a thrown axe. | 162 |
| 162 | The kill brought about a festive mood amongst the expedition. Barnil poured mead for all to enjoy. But our festivities were short-lived. As we were preparing the corpse for transport back to base camp we were all caught off guard by a horrendous growl. In all my years I have never heard anything so blood curdling. | 163 |
| 163 | On a rocky precipice above, silhouetted by the setting sun, I could make out the largest cat of prey I have ever laid eyes upon. I was able to loose one clumsy volley with my rifle, but the cat held his ground. He growled once again, this time louder than the first, and vanished. We gathered our belongings and headed solemnly back to camp. |
164 |
| 164 | I had promised the expedition that we would spend the next day hunting panthers, as their furs are in high demand throughout Azeroth. It only makes sense that such demand should exist with all of the able-bodied hunters, trappers and fur-traders off giving their lives so valiantly in the name of the Alliance. | 165 |
| 165 | Ajeck and Sir Erlgadin were anxious to learn how to hunt effectively with a Dwarven Rifle. I had the two humans leave their primitive range weapons at base camp. Barnil and I outfitted them with some of Ironforge's finest firearms. | 166 |
| 166 | On this day we ventured to the south, following some fresh panther tracks. Soon we reached a ravine spanned by a tremendous rope bridge. I could not help but to think of Brann's descriptive writings of this region when I saw the engineering marvel. So often it was assumed that the native Trolls were a primitive and uneducated race yet as I gazed upon the master craftsmanship of the bridge I was able to recognize the skill with which the Troll builders overcame the seemingly impossible feat. | 167 |
| 167 | Before long, Ajeck tracked the panther to the southwest. We walked quietly, guns at the ready, in anticipation of our prey. A snapping of twigs from a nearby copse of trees drew our attention immediately. Something was in there. One stern glance at Barnil was enough to convey my thoughts. Barnil slowly lowered his rifle. This kill was not for us; it was for our Human companions. Countless panthers had lost their lives in front of our smoking barrels. This kill would be for the Humans. | 168 |
| 168 | Both Ajeck and Sir Erlgadin stood poised, guns leveled at the bristling overgrowth at the base of the swaying trees. The midday sun beat heavily upon us. A slow trickle of perspiration trailed down from Elrgadin's temple as he pulled the pin back. Upon the sound of the click, the thick flora parted and a large black panther -- a beautiful specimen -- darted out onto the plain. | 0 |
| 169 | The Humans trained their sights on the panther as it ran along the edge of the tree line. The barrels of their guns moved in perfect parallel tandem. Barnil gave me an urging glance but I shook my head no. This hunt was for the Humans, not Barnil or me. Erlgadin fired a booming shot, missing the panther altogether. Apparently he was unprepared for the violent kickback of the rifle blast. | 170 |
| 170 | His gun tossed back violently in his arms. The barrel swooped sideways and came up beneath Ajeck's rifle. Ajeck had chosen that exact moment to pull her trigger. The rifle, the aim now knocked clumsily toward the tree line, went off with a distinct boom. A flock of birds screamed out of the canopy, scattering in every direction. A plume of smoke rose from the tree. We watched in awe as a tremendous branch fell squarely on the fleeing panther, breaking its back. | 171 |
| 171 | As the weeks passed our stockpile of panther and tiger skins grew immense. I decided it was time for the expedition to shift our focus to a new challenge: Raptors. The Humans, while appreciative of the training Barnil and I offered, decided to refrain from hunting with firearms. Ajeck was much more comfortable with a finely strung bow and Sir Erlgadin never left camp without his sturdy crossbow. |
172 |
| 172 | We set out at first light, heading south past the Tkashi Ruins. Barnil voiced concern that we might encounter members of the Bloodscalp Tribe. I reminded Barnil that the Bloodscalps were more concerned with destroying their tribal enemy, the Skullsplitters. Needless to say, Barnil was not comforted in the least. I, however, had a loaded rifle, a satchel full of gunpowder and three deadly hunters with me to ease any concerns of an unfriendly ambush. | 173 |
| 173 | I've stood before a towering Infernal on the battlefield, the army of the Burning Legion advancing from all directions. An unruly band of Trolls seems as harmless as a jackrabbit in the hills of Dun Morogh. We passed the Tkashi Ruins without event, much to Barnil's relief. The party proceeded to head westward, toward the Great Sea, skirting the Ruins of Zul'Kunda just to the south. As we ascended the high sea bluffs we spotted our first Raptor. |
174 |
| 174 | The beast never so much as detected our presence. In fact, the only greeting he received from the expedition was a bullet between the eyes. Sir Erlgadin let out a hearty *hurrah* as Ajeck nodded toward me with keen approval. I sifted through my pack in search of my pipe, hoping to enjoy a celebratory smoke. Barnil began to scurry up the hillside to retrieve the Raptor's corpse. I stared at the fallen beast with the satisfaction that accompanies every big kill. | 175 |
| 175 | But I could not bask in the glory of the kill for long. For when I turned my eyes toward the horizon, several silhouettes appeared cresting the hill, just above poor Barnil. *Flee, Barnil!* I shouted. Ajeck, Sir Erlgadin and myself loosed a volley of bullets, arrows and bolts over Barnil and toward the pursuing raptors. One of us landed a kill amidst the confusion. |
176 |
| 176 | Our hastily aimed shots were enough to buy Barnil's escape. Barnil clamored back down the hill and rejoined the party. We scurried off into the jungle The hunters were now the hunted. |
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| 177 | I led the party toward the sea, hoping the shoreline would provide refuge from the Raptors. In our haste we had drifted too far north, to a precariously high elevation. The mistake was made. The fault was mine. We stopped just short of a sheer cliff, the Raptors just a few paces behind. | 178 |
| 178 | I stepped slowly forward, gun raised. I had led these brave hunters to their death. I would die defending them. Lashtail Raptors are particularly fierce, known for their unrelenting blood-thirst. They far outnumbered us. But I would be damned if I let them kill me and my comrades without shedding some of their own blood first. | 179 |
| 179 | Ajeck and Sir Erlgadin readied their weapons, flanking me on either side, our backs to the sea. Barnil let out a defeated sigh and drew his axe. The Lashtails were almost upon us. Their steady stride had slowed. They were stalking their prey now for they knew they had us trapped. | 180 |
| 180 | And then something miraculous happened. From off to our side we heard the distinct and terrifying roar of the great white tiger. Despite their numbers, the Raptors turned and scattered in all directions. We saw but a brief white flash as the tiger darted past us and pounced on one of the Raptors. No command needed to be given. All four members of our party knew it was time to run. | 181 |
| 181 | We sprinted all the way back to base camp, never slowing. Later that night we sat quietly around the campfire, knowing our lives had been saved by a bizarre twist of fate. Such are the risks of the big game hunter. We toy with fate by delivering it. Yet each of us, at some point, will face fate's razor sharp teeth. This Dwarf is just glad that moment did not come upon the green hills of Stranglethorn. | 0 |
| 182 | Honorable Colleagues and Truthseekers
The site's excavation continues, but it is slowed by the Troggs mentioned in my last report. I am confident they can be dealt with, even if some of these Troggs are more aggressive than usual. More artifacts were found recently, though in all cases but one (which I will discuss below), recent findings are of the same caliber as before - interesting, if not enlightening. |
183 |
| 183 | There has been one exception. The peculiarly carved idols found recently (a brief description of these was included in my last report) seem to have an effect on the Troggs at the site. They are drawn to the stone carvings, and some Troggs are driven berserk by them!
More study is required for any conclusions regarding these idols, but I remain hopeful that they will shed light on a link between the Troggs and the Titans. |
184 |
| 184 | Lastly, I must restate my request for blastpowder. My supplies are very low, which severely hampers the success of the excavation. I was told a resupply of blastpowder was forthcoming, though I have not yet received it.
What, may I ask, is the delay? Respectfully, Prospector Darteus Ironband |
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| 185 | It began with the finding of that cursed scythe in Roland's Doom. Before the Scythe, the terrors of this place seemed as tame as Northshire Valley. But ever since I found the haft of the Scythe jutting from that pile of rubble in the mine and, curse me, pulled it free, Roland's Doom became a place of vile death! |
205 |
| 186 | It began with the finding of that cursed scythe in the mine they call Roland's Doom. Yes, that was the start of it. Before that, the Defias Brotherhood was happy with our progress in Duskwood. Before the Scythe, the terrors of this place seemed as tame as Northshire Valley. But ever since I found the haft of the Scythe jutting from that pile of rubble in the mine and, curse me, pulled it free, Roland's Doom became a place of vile death! |
187 |
| 187 | If I had known what would happen, I would have cut off my own hand to keep from grasping that rune-carved wood. So many regrets! I always thought that was a privilege of the old. I now know that it is not the old - it is the hopeless - who don the mantle of regret, unable and unwilling to shrug it from shoulders stooped with misery. But enough waxing like a pipe-mad poet. I must continue with the chronicle... |
188 |
| 188 | After the Scythe was freed, a change rippled through the mine. Light from our flickering torches warped, and the strength of our voices seemed beyond our control. Sometimes a man's whisper roared through the tunnels forcing hands on ears, and sometimes our shouts barely traveled a few steps before diminishing into a hint on the wind. Unnerving, yes, but we did not have long to wonder at this strangeness. It was but a harbinger of what truly drove us from the mine. The Worgen. |
189 |
| 189 | They came at us from everywhere, clawing from hidden holes at our feet and dropping upon us from silent perches above. Half our men fell in those first panicked minutes. The rest, including myself, tried to flee. As I ran I saw so many of my brothers taken by tooth and claw, heard so many screams cut short or gurgle to silence. For all I know, I am the only human to escape that place. |
190 |
| 190 | I can only guess why I survived that night. I have always been cautious, always quick to flinch from jabs and leap free of pitfalls. My nickname, Jitters, comes from this trait. So perhaps it was just that knack for caution that saved me... Or maybe it was the Scythe I pulled from the rubble. It cannot be the Scythe itself, for I lost it during my frantic flight. But if it was I who brought the Worgen to Duskwood, then perhaps the Worgen afforded me a rare courtesy. Curse them. |
191 |
| 191 | Or perhaps, I am doomed to witness the change I wrought on Duskwood. Perhaps it is my fate to watch as the Worgen tear into this land, staining it ever darker with their foulness. If that truly is my fate, then it is twofold. For the Worgen are not the only power to clutch at Duskwood - the fiends from Deadwind Pass have also staked claim. That is the next chapter of my tale, and I pray it is the last... |
192 |
| 192 | After surviving the flight from Roland's Doom, I hid within a barn owned by a man named Sven. I spent a few days in the barn, and such horror lingered with me that I never once made myself known to Sven or his family. But from what I saw from my hiding place, I knew these farmers were quite decent folk. Had I stepped from my concealment I think they would have taken me in, but trust is hard for me. Harder still after that shock in the mine. So I remained hidden. And it saved my life. |
193 |
| 193 | A few days after I arrived at the barn, Sven left his farm for Darkshire. He kissed his wife and smiled to his children and promised to return soon with toys and sweets. The poor man. That was the last time he saw his family unmutilated. At least they parted happily. And at least his wife was the first to die, and was freed from seeing the slaughter of her children. But these small graces do nothing for me. I saw what happened, and it will ever haunt my dreams. |
194 |
| 194 | My hand trembles as I recall the details of that night, when Sven was away and his family was doomed to face the Black Riders alone. Again regret claws at me, for I was there and could have risen against those fiends from Deadwind Pass. But it is a false regret. It is the same that plagues any survivor of a tragedy. I know that, had I left my place of hiding I too would have been killed, my body ripped and torn, and its pieces spread so widely that I would not be recognized. | 195 |
| 195 | But, even though I know I could have done nothing to stop this heinous murder, one true regret does remain: I brought the Black Riders to Sven's farm. My discovery of the Scythe not only unleashed the Worgen upon Duskwood - it drew the Riders from Deadwind Pass. I know this because, just before they began their slaughter they asked one question to Sven's wife as she held her children close, giving them what comfort she could though she was certain death was near. |
196 |
| 196 | "The Scythe of Elune." one of the Riders shrieked in a voice both harsh and shrill, like the grinding of an axe on stone. And the last word - Elune - it croaked, as if choking on the sound. Dread gripped me when I heard that voice, both from the horrid sound of it, and because...I knew the Scythe of which the Rider spoke. It must be the same cursed thing I drew from the rocks of Roland's Doom days before. It was what the Black Riders sought! And it was what would kill Sven's family. |
197 |
| 197 | I never learned the name of Sven's wife, as she was only ever called "dearest," and "my love," and "mommy" by her husband and children. But I wish I knew it. I am the only living memory of her deed that day, and although she was just a farmer's wife, never have I seen a man or woman act with such bravery. Of course she did not know of the Scythe, but when she learned the Riders sought it, in an instant a plan formed in her head. And it was bold and clever. If only it had worked. |
198 |
| 198 | "The Scythe?" she said in a calm voice. "Of course I do. Who here wouldn't?" She looked at the Riders with steady eyes, and I would have sworn she spoke the truth if I had not known better. There was no way she could know about the Scythe. Her gambit paid off. The same Rider who uttered the question before bent his head slightly toward her, and shrieked, "Where?" "I'll take you. All of you," she said, and I could see a small hope flicker behind her eyes. |
199 |
| 199 | "But the way is far, and my children would slow us. We must leave them." Her trick was simple, but simple tricks have the best hope of success. If it worked, it would lead the Riders away from the farm. She would be lost, but her children would be safe. And it would work, if only the Riders believed her noble lies. Although I have never been a student of the Light, I prayed fiercely for Sven's wife as she stood against those terrible Riders. "Please," I prayed. "Let them believe." |
200 |
| 200 | They stood, frozen, and she met their gazes with calm. Then one rider looked up, as if hearing a distant call. He drew from his garb a small gem and peered into it. He then gestured with the bauble toward Sven's wife. A light crept from the Rider toward the woman, shaping itself into a grim, white hand. She stared into the light, unflinching, but I could see uncertainty behind her mask of confidence. When the hand reached her, it spread its fingers over her head. And it squeezed. |
201 |
| 201 | Sven's wife stood rigid as a board, and her eyes grew wide. And although her lips pulled back to mouth a scream, no sound escaped. After a few moments of this torture the hand released her, dropping her to her knees. The Rider who held the bauble then sat erect in his saddle, and a loud voice erupted from it. "This woman lies," it said in a voice that has scarred my dreams. "She has not seen the Scythe." |
202 |
| 202 | After this, the Rider's shoulders stooped slightly, as if a spirit within him had fled. And then in the old, shrieking voice it used earlier, these final words were uttered: "The Lord has spoken. Kill them." |
203 |
| 203 | I cannot describe what happened next. It is clear in my mind, but even my wretched soul cannot put to paper the events of those next few, grisly minutes. I can only write that Sven's family was killed. And soon after, Sven returned to this grim, deathly scene. Such grief was in him that I was afraid to show myself. And so afraid was I that he would find me, I fled from my hiding spot in the barn. I do not know where Sven is now, but I pray he will, some day, find peace. |
246 |
| 205 | After the Scythe was freed, They came at us from everywhere, clawing from hidden holes at our feet and dropping upon us from silent perches above. Half our men fell in those first panicked minutes. The rest, including myself, tried to flee. As I ran I saw so many of my brothers taken by tooth and claw, heard so many screams cut short or gurgle to silence. | 206 |
| 206 | I can only guess why I survived that night. I have always been cautious, always quick to flinch from jabs and leap free of pitfalls. My nickname comes from this trait. So perhaps it was just that knack for caution that saved me... Or maybe it was the Scythe I pulled from the rubble. It cannot be the Scythe itself, for I lost it during my frantic flight. But if it was I who brought the Worgen to Duskwood, then perhaps the Worgen afforded me a rare courtesy. Curse them. |
207 |
| 207 | After surviving the flight from Roland's Doom, I hid within a barn owned by a man named Sven. I spent a few days in the barn, and such horror lingered with me that I never once made myself known to Sven or his family. But from what I saw from my hiding place, I knew these farmers were quite decent folk. Had I stepped from my concealment I think they would have taken me in, but trust is hard for me. Harder still after that shock in the mine. So I remained hidden. |
208 |
| 208 | <The rest of the book is blank> | 0 |
| 209 | REPORT: Kobolds
The activity of kobolds has increased in the vicinity of Northshire Valley. They camp north of the abbey and within the Echo Ridge Mine in alarming numbers. I have marshalled paladins, warriors and other local folk to aid me in ridding us of the vermin. This progresses well. And I will update as needed. |
210 |
| 210 | REPORT: Thieves
More alarming than the kobolds, a human gang of thieves has emerged in the valley. They wear red bandanas and call themselves a brotherhood. This level of organization may lead to trouble, both here and in all of Elwynn Forest. We have identified one of their leaders--one Garrick Padfoot--and hope to bring him to justice soon. |
211 |
| 211 | REPORT: Wolves
There has been an increase in reported animal attacks in Northshire. Eagan believes the wolves in the valley were scared here from Duskwood. Although the wolves rarely hunt human prey, the sheer number of them has caused some incidents with farmers. And many livestock have gone missing. |
212 |
| 212 | COMMENDATION:
The bearer of these documents is to be awarded Deputy status with the Stormwind Army, having served Northshire with eagerness and distinction. I am confident you will find this person useful in Elwynn Forest. signed: -Marshal Douglas McBride, Stormwind Army, Northshire |
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| 213 | Westfall Stew
3 parts Stringy Vulture Meat 3 Goretusk Snouts 3 Murloc Eyes 3 Okra Mix together and bring to a boil. Let simmer for at least two hours before serving. |
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| 214 | Dearest Yvette, I will entrust this letter to our fastest runner. I pray he can find a way through the forces surrounding us. And I pray you read these words, for they are the last you will hear of me. My only comfort in these dark days is the relief I feel, knowing that you are free of my fate. |
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| 215 | Missing Text | 0 |
| 218 | I fear the war between the Stonefields and the Maclures will kill Tommy Joe and Maybell's blossoming romance, and in times like these - where dark news and rumors of war loom over us - youth and love must be nurtured. So, the favor: I ask that you use your skills and concoct a potion or elixir to aid these young lovers in their quest for each other. Thank you, William. And please, when you have some time away from work, come visit. We'll have a few chuckles over the past. -Mildred |
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| 219 | From the hand of Baros Alexston, Office of the City Architect Stormwind Your Majesty, There are many reasons as to why I felt that a report should be compiled and presented on the recent affairs of the "Defias Brotherhood" and their activities throughout the kingdom. For perspective, I shall begin with a bit of history. As you may or may not know, my service to the city of Stormwind began as a member of the Stonemasons' Guild. Through years of work, we completed the rebuilding of | 220 |
| 220 | Stormwind, at which time the Stonemasons' Guild bills and fees and salaries left unpaid and unspoken for. At that time, Edwin VanCleef had been elected Guildmaster of the Stonemasons, and spoke out, demanding restitution for our works. In response, the Stormwind House of Nobles ordered the Stonemasons' Guild disbanded, which, understandably, angered VanCleef. Leading a riot, VanCleef led the Stonemasons out of the city. Before I continue, there are some other events that took place during | 221 |
| 221 | this time that I should bring to your attention. First, it was at this time that I was offered the position of city architect if I did not join with VanCleef. Because of certain idealogical differences, I chose to remain in Stormwind. During the riots, VanCleef's lieutenant and most trusted assistant, Bazil Thredd, was captured and held in prison. Awaiting trial and questioning, Thredd was almost forgotten about in the Stockade. Returning to VanCleef, after he led the remnants of the | 222 |
| 222 | Stonemasons out of Stormwind, he took advantage of the relatively unprotected state of Westfall, and used his considerable manpower to run many of the farmers off, and take over the handful of gold mines. Taking advantage of the resources at his disposal, VanCleef hatched a plan of retribution against the government of Stormwind. This information came to light recently with the assistance of the bearer of this document, who was instrumental in shedding light on this vast conspiracy. | 0 |
| 223 | Disperse information as you deem necessary. Tirisfal Regional Command Captain Melrose Captain Vachon Captain Perrine Directives by the order of the Highlord. Captain Perrine, further fortify your position at the southwest tower (as designated). Additional supplies will be dispatched at a later date. In the meantime, materiel should be obtainable from the surrounding farms. Also, further reconnaissance and information |
224 |
| 224 | should be gathered about the organization of the undead in Brill. Captain Vachon, there appears to be increased movement by the undead near the northern tower. This insurgence must be quickly and decisively dealt with. Captain Melrose, there are concerns about the level of organization of the undead near the borders of the Plaguelands. A fresh group of men will be dispatched to your position in the coming weeks. Glory under the Light |
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| 229 | Day 1
My tank is broken, but I know the chiron ore is in these hills somewhere. I told Hammerfoot to stay and watch our tanks. I'm continuing the search alone. If I don't make it back, then this journal is my last testament. --Buron Hildelve, Pilot Ironforge Steam Brigade |
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| 230 | Day 2
My search continues, and no ore. I'm wondering if Stonegear was just making up the rumor of that ore as a joke. Well if he did then he's getting a cracked skull when I get back to Steelgrill's Depot! Tonight as I prepared my camp, I heard a growl echoing through the canyons. It isn't a wolf. It may be a bear. |
231 |
| 231 | Day 3
That growling continued throughout the night, and followed me all today, distracting me from my hunt for ore. I think there's a bear following me! I hope he comes close. I'll bury my pick into his head! |
232 |
| 232 | Day 4
My supplies are running low. I still have plenty of food, but I didn't plan for such a long stay in the wilds outside my tank and I only brought two kegs of ale with me. I've been up all night the past two nights, listening to that cursed growling, and I've nearly drained my kegs dry! I'll have to head back to Hammerfoot and our Steam Tanks tomorrow. I don't want to get lost out here, booze-less. |
233 |
| 233 | Day 5
The cursed bear did me in! It attacked me at midday, roaring and charging at me from behind. I would have smelled it coming had it charged from upwind - its stench was something awful! The reek of its mangy coat and rotted breath alone nearly sent me spinning! I fought the thing off but it chewed my leg up good. Now I can't move, my ale's gone, and I never did find that ore. Curses! |
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| 234 | Day 6
The bear hasn't yet returned - I must have given him a good beating! But I can still hear his growling. I think he's waiting for me to die! To whomever finds this book, I have a task for you. Kill that mangy bear. Kill it, and take this book back to my friend Hammerfoot. He'll want to know what happened. And take my armor. You'll need it against old Mangeclaw! |
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| 235 | Greetings Ello Ebonlocke, Mayor of Darkshire. I'm afraid I have news for your town. Grave news. You see, I am a creator. I fooled the bearer of this note into aiding me in my latest, most dire creation - a fiend of flesh and bone and twisted metal! As you read this, it's likely outside my humble dwelling, gnashing its teeth and waiting for my word to go forth and slaughter. But you'll know soon enough. -The Embalmer |
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| 236 | Through study of various fossilized creatures I have deduced that in ancient times, a great plague swept through the waters of Lake Lordamere. What caused this? We might never know. But the rate of contamination appears to be extremely high based on dense concentrations of remains distributed across the lake bed. | 237 |
| 237 | In an attempt to uncover the past, I have begun to examine the creatures of the present in hopes of finding the missing clue to this mystery. The Lake Skulkers and Lake Creepers are ancient beasts who inhabit the islands in the center of Lake Lordamere. There is a moss which grows on them that resembles trace materials on some of the fossils. More research needs to be done before I can speculate as to what this connection means. | 238 |
| 238 | While trying to collect moss samples I came across the scene of a bloody battle. The Vile Fin tribe of Murlocs had come under siege by a marauding band of Gnolls. There were both Gnoll and Murloc corpses littering the battlefield. As I passed a mangled Murloc body I noticed a strange hardened tumor protruding from the wound. As I began to study the tumor it became clear it held similar properties to the moss I was collecting. Unfortunately, I could find no other tumors besides the one. | 0 |
| 243 | Missing Text | 0 |
| 244 | Lord Bethor Iceshard, As per your instructions, I send to you the agent you requested. It is the bearer of this note. This person has shown to be dependable and able to follow orders, is proven against the forces of the Scourge, and is my choice for your mission. May She reign supreme, -Magistrate Sevren |
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| 245 | Missing: Corporal Keeshan Last seen during the bloody battle at Stonewatch Keep, Corporal Keeshan was reported to have been dragged away by Blackrock Orcs. It is believed that Corporal Keeshan is being held as a prisoner of war at the Blackrock encampment north of Lakeshire, just west of the pass leading to the Burning Steppes. By mandate of Magistrate Solomon, anyone who aids in the recovery of Corporal Keeshan shall be rewarded by Marshal Marris. |
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| 246 | I spent the next few weeks moving from place to place, never lingering for fear of the Riders. I am now in the abandoned town of Raven's Hill, as always, hiding. I cannot face whatever power they used against Sven's wife, and I know it searches Duskwood, even still, for the Scythe. It is lost to me, and I thank the Light for this, for had I kept it I know I would have been found. Even now, I know in my heart that I will be found. I'm so tired. |
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| 248 | Greetings, Master,
Forgive me for the method of sending this message. My shadow mages in Alterac are intent on their tasks, forcing me to use a foreign messenger -- conscripted from our new "allies" -- to bring you this report. But I have encrypted this letter with one of our most esoteric ciphers. Its words are safe from these yokels. |
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| 249 | Valik,
Guard the slave until our return. It's not safe to keep IT here any longer. We'll be moving it north, farther away from any possibility of being seen. They're animals, but brutal animals nonetheless--given enough of them, we'd have reason to be concerned. Better to hide any signs that would provoke them altogether. The last thing we want to give them is a reason to rally and attack us in force. |
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| 250 | A party from Defias headquarters will contact the Collector, after which he will transfer the gathered gold. Be sure this process is performed without fail and with utmost discretion. The Collector is responsible for the transfer of gold, but ultimately it is the responsibility of each member of the Defias Brotherhood to ensure that his role is acted out with attention and discipline. |
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| 251 | Remember, my brothers, we were once proud craftsmen. We'll perform our current duties with the same precision we used in our past trade. -EVC |
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| 252 | I fear my father made a grave error when he decided to remain and defend our home. The forces of the Scourge rage through Tirisfal Glades, and although we are well fortified and well stocked, after the betrayal of my brother Devlin we lack the strength and numbers to withstand their continued assault.
If you receive this letter, Yvette, then know that Devlin is a traitor. |
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| 253 | Devlin despaired and sought an escape from our ill fortunes, and in doing so he made a pact with the Scourge. I do not know what price was promised him for his betrayal, but I'm sure it was laced with lies.
If you see my brother, then flee from him. He is a fiend. A few nights ago he murdered two of our watchmen and let a small group of Scourge through the breach, leading them to where many more of us slept. |
254 |
| 254 | Their ambush was brutal. They slew a third of us before we could take them down. Now, we barely have enough men to watch our borders. It is only a matter of time before our wearying guard drops and the Scourge attack.
And although I saw Devlin's face amidst the desperate men and gaunt-faced Scourge on that cursed night, he slipped away before I could catch him. He might be dead, or he might still live as an agent of the Scourge. Either way, he is a monster. |
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| 255 | Devlin warned us that if we tried to face the Scourge, then we were doomed. He told us this when they first entered Tirisfal Glades, well before they encircled our home. Perhaps he was pleading with us to leave, or perhaps he was gloating.
It was always hard to understand Devlin's motives. Since he was a child, he was a mystery to us. |
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| 256 | But he was right. We are doomed. The Agamand family line will end. Although I still live, I know I will soon be dead. I am not afraid, and I do not regret remaining with my family. But my last thoughts will be of you. Live on, my beloved Yvette, and I will find peace, -Thurman |
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| 257 | Our plans progress well; as mentioned, we made an alliance with a group of humans who call themselves the Syndicate. Its leaders were once the nobles of Alterac and they crave to once again hold sway here.
And so they have struck a bargain with us. A bargain they will regret. |
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| 258 | Today the Syndicate holds little power in these lands, but they know the area well and have assembled sufficient manpower for the tasks ahead. With proper guiding I am confident that soon, the Syndicate will again rule Alterac.
In addition, we have urged the Syndicate to aim for the city of Stromgarde in the nearby Arathi Highlands. The city is a battlefield between our forces, ogres and the humans of Stromgarde, but we feel that with careful tactics we will own this once great city. |
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| 259 | And when this is done, the next stage of our plan may begin. With a nation of our own and a base of power in this region, we may then prepare the way for the Third Host.
Soon, the Legion Lords will reward our works by raining fire from the skies once again! |
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| 260 | Missing Text | 0 |
| 261 | Hillsbrad Town Registry
We the people of Hillsbrad do solemny swear our faith and devotion to the Alliance maintained by the great monarchs, King Magni Bronzebeard of Ironforge and King Anduin Wrynn of Stormwind. Herein lies the town registry for purposes of governing this fair city in the foothills of the great Alterac Mountains as well as serving as a record of those who have paid their taxes to their Kings and to the great almighty Alliance. |
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| 262 | Magistrate Rutherford Burnside
All debts settled. Blacksmith Avery Verringtan All debts settled. Clerk Horrace Whitesteed All debts settled. Councilman Gillis All debts settled. Councilman Hooks All debts settled. Farmer Getz All debts settled. Farmer Ray Debt outstanding. Payment in agricultural goods promised at time of harvest. Farmer Lyion Debt outstanding. Evicted from the land. |
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| 263 | Farmer Kalaba
Debts outstanding. Payment in agricultural goods promised at time of harvest. Citizen Wilkes All debts paid. Citizen Bonoan All debts paid. Miner Wellty Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. Miner Sidney Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. Miner Hackett Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. |
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| 265 | Miner Orwell
Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. Miner Fitzgerald Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. Citizen Netherand All debts paid. Citizen May All debts paid. Foreman Bonds Debt outstanding. Payment due upon next delivery of ore from Azurelode. |
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| 266 | Kegan Darkmar, leader of the small group of undead who came to us in search of asylum from their "brethren," defies our common attitudes toward his kind. His skin may be rotting and blood may have long stopped flowing through his veins, but he acts very nobly and seems to care more for his compatriots' safety than his own. Indeed, there is a humanity within him that, I confess, I sometimes see lacking in the humans around me. |
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| 267 | But why do I mention this? I do so to give credence to what I am about to write, for these words came from Kegan's lips and it is my hope that my colleagues will, upon reading this journal, know why I believe what he said: "Remnants of the Old Gods still linger in the deep hollows of the world. New forces seek to harness that ancient power, and those who succeed will have a terrible weapon against their enemies." |
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| 268 | That is what Kegan uttered as he handed his bloodstone pendant to me, and there was fear, and maybe reverence, in his eyes as he did so. And as his hands met with mine they lingered, as if reluctant to give up the pendant. Revulsion swept through me, yet to this day I know not if I reviled against his dead flesh pressed to mine, or if the pendant itself made my skin crawl. For I felt a power within it. A deep, hidden, hungry power. And one yearning for release. |
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| 269 | Although my colleagues in Dalaran were cautious to study the bloodstones that Kegan and his followers brought with them, instead quarantining the four refugees and leaving the bloodstones on their persons, the sincerity of Kegan obliged me to study his bloodstone pendant. | 270 |
| 270 | My hopes were to verify for my colleagues that this type of stone did possess magical properties, and if we wizards of Dalaran did not wish to exploit the power of bloodstones, we should at the least learn their properties, since our foes may one day use them against us. And so my studies began. |
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| 271 | I started my tests with the assumption that bloodstone was a type of rock, like quartz or obsidian. So I began a series of procedures to determine: what minerals were contained within bloodstone, what forces were applied to produce its color and hardness, and other properties common to rocks and ore. But the bloodstone pendant, to my frustration, did not react to my procedures as would normal ore. | 272 |
| 272 | In fact, it often acted in precisely the opposite fashion as expected! It was almost as if the pendant was deliberately fouling my experiments. Like it was thinking, and alive. Angered but not discouraged, I switched from assuming the pendant was an inert piece of rock, to assuming it was a living thing. But again, I failed. |
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| 273 | None of my new tests brought to light any revelations of the origin of bloodstone. At the time the only riddle I solved was that bloodstone was neither living, nor dead! But it was then, at the brink of failure, that a breakthrough was made. My latest test involved a glass beaker whose brim was chipped, leaving a small, jagged space along its edge. When the test was over, again revealing nothing, I went to clean my worktable and cut myself on the beaker. |
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| 274 | The cut was not deep but nevertheless bled fiercely. Before I could wrap my injured finger in a bandage, a good deal of my blood had spilled on my worktable. And as I was cleaning up this new mess, I noticed the strangest thing... |
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| 275 | The blood that had spilled near the bloodstone pendant was slowly moving toward the piece of jewelry, as if gravity had somehow bent itself toward the bloodstone. The blood that touched the pendant seemed to disappear, and the red color of the stone deepened as it drank more of my blood. | 276 |
| 276 | After seeing this my head grew light, perhaps from my recent injury (though I did not believe I had lost that much blood) or perhaps because I had finally, after so much frustration, uncovered one of the bloodstone's properties. I reached behind me for my work stool and sat down, pondering. Thoughts and questions raced through my head, dizzying and threatening to topple me. Does bloodstone drink blood? Does it crave blood? Does it attract blood? |
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