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Archive for November, 2012

I do believe the last journal I bothered to upkeep is somewhere beneath a pile of belongings that never had the fortune of being unpacked, from the shift of accommodations following the renewal of the Sunwell. Staying true to tradition, however, with the discovery of a new frontier, I must resume my logging.

To begin, I must make mention of my recent commitment to the famed Sunguard. Quel’thalas has always been at the heart of my interests, and I find more purpose in serving it with a blade than I ever did in a sitting room, making dull conversation with even more vapid individuals. My induction to the order occurred some months ago, when I was drawn by the notice on the call boards, and particularly so, the familiar name of Truefeather. I recalled that name dimly among my comrades from wars past, and so – put together with popular opinion – concluded that the Sunguard would be an appropriate home for a lady turned soldier. That is, of course, only the beginning of interesting discoveries I have made during my short time here.

The first days of membership yielded duels, in which I volunteered to test my strength against a Tauren seeking to join the Alizarin Co. I won the duel, and it earned me some meager approval amongst the mercenaries. Although I am Oathsworn, I do believe there is benefit in maintaining a positive relationship with the mercenaries who work alongside us. Sometimes, I feel as if I may prefer their company to some of the uptight, bickering Oathsworn. I have gathered that I am not the only one of aristocratic heritage within the order, and while that is the culture I sought to escape, I have faith in that perhaps not all are as nit picky as those who speak most often across the communication devices.

Nonetheless, that all paled in comparison to my surprise when I heard a very familiar voice sound over the devices. It had been long – with the exception of the Confessor Blackwood – since I had heard the formality of the old aristocratic Thalassian dialect. Of course, the herald of this dialect was none other than Lady Azriah herself. I had heard her name mentioned in the City, no longer that of my own, Illythien, but rather her own maiden name, Thelryn, but I hardly thought I would encounter her in a setting such as this.

Rather than shock, it was amusement that came to me in that moment, as I can’t imagine my sister-in-law voluntarily being part of an army. Perhaps there are things I do not know about her, however. The lady is far from a dim memory in my mind, as she was a figure in my life from birth to my coming of age, when I unofficially emancipated myself from House Illythien, following the unfortunate circumstance of my brother. For over a century, I have wanted to believe that suicide is a natural occasion among a race so long lived, but I can’t help this nagging sense of unease when I recall the grim lines of Lady Azriah’s features upon acceptance of Hadrian’s wealth. Though she is technically still family, I have no particular desire to seek her out. Nor do I believe she has even noticed my presence within the order, which is of little consequence – and some relief – to me.

I seem to have rambled on that topic for longer than I liked, and so I must now change the subject to that of Pandaria. In the beginning of autumn, the first wave of soldiers, adventurers, craftsmen and merchants journeyed to the new continent, and news of their discoveries floated all about Azeroth. I had still been in Quel’thalas at the time, and so my free time was spent fixated on the communication device, listening for descriptions of the continent. It was not until two fortnights later that I found myself aboard a ship to the Jade Forest, with a misfit crew of individuals from every walk of life. I made fast friends for the duration of the trip, and some who imparted to me stories that may make an appearance in this journal at a later date.

Upon landing in the Jade Forest, I found that the initial conflicts that arose upon discovery of the continent had been blown over and resolved by adventurers before me, which left me with altogether menial duties, such as assisting the Pandaren villagers and of course, providing a home – my stomach – for all of their excess food and brew. Allow me to just say this; my stay in Pandaria just might require a loosening of straps on my armor. Likely nothing terribly drastic, however, as there are plenty of physically demanding duties to keep me in shape. I only find now that my mood is lighter with the lack of a need to operate on an empty stomach.

Rather than spend my time in an inn, however, I spent my coin on a pack creature that was being sold by a rather curious thing, known as a Grummle. It referred to this pack creature as a “billy goat,” and so in my extremes of creativity, I opted to call it Billy. It is an even-tempered thing, and though it does not protest to bearing my supplies, it simply will not have me atop its back, and so I must walk and usher Billy along with a lead rope, even if it tries to consume said rope. Nonetheless, it makes for an amiable companion, even if somewhat noisy with its constant Mehing.

In conclusion, I suppose I can simply say this; it is quite nice to be adventuring once more.

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