Four sketches taken, one to go. I took the boat back to Auberdine, then transferred to the boat for Darnassus. Once again Foecrusher was a worthy companion, for he delivered me through the portal and to the High Temple of the Moon without confrontation.
I dislike this place. Regardless of our shared heritage, the night elves and blood elves are no longer even remotely the same people. Our city, despite our trials of late, is still one of sunshine, of spring and of renewal. Darnassus is dark, and feels like the home of people who have reached their twilight, and are simply waiting for the darkness to come.
I digress. I made my way into the temple. Plenty of guards here, and no room for Foecrusher, so the fight inside was fierce. Still, I eventually triumphed and got my sketch. My mission completed, I activated my hearthstone and made my way back to Shattrah.
My next task was much simpler. With sketches of the Alliance leaders in hand, I had to do the same with the Horde leaders. Much easier when said leaders will speak with you instead of drawing weapons and attempting to end you.
My first stop was my homeland. There are some who still follow the Prince, but I am not one of those. A small but growing number of Sindor'ei, the leadership of the Order amongst them, have learned of Sunstrider's treachery and forsaken him as our leader. As far as I am concerned, the Regeant has earned the right to assume control over Silvermoon.
I took the opportunity of waiting on the sketch to discuss some matters between the Order and the Regeancy Council. The Regeant is a wise man, knowing that following his opinion alone is not the way to bring Silvermoon back to glory, and accepts advice and discussion to guide his decisions.
The Regeant asked me to deliver a message to our ambassador with the Forsaken, since I was headed for Undercity anyways. I agreed, and stepped through the Translocation Orb to arrive in the ruined city.
The Dark Lady is rather unapproachable. I delivered my package to the Ambassador, then stayed a bit to discuss my Order's state with our representative amongst the Forsaken. There are a few former paladins amongst the willful undead, and she shared some rather interesting insight they had discussed with her.
I rode Foecrusher through the Undercity and out under the open sky. The smell is no fresher here, between the Foraken and the nearby Plaguelands. While I respect our allies for coming to our aid in the Ghostlands, I still have trouble remaining in their presence. The wounds are still far too fresh.
After the long ride on the zepplin to Orgrimmar, I rode to the Valley of Wisdom for my next two sketches. The first was with the Shadow Hunter, leader of the Darkspear tribe. Try as I might, I still struggle to understand the...unique...speech pattern of the trolls. Our conversation was short, mostly a debriefing on efforts in Zangarmarsh.
