Trial of Combat: Athaelos Crimsonvein

[Athaelos]

Drustvar. The dead of night, or what felt like the dead of night in that godforsaken place. Wickerbeasts and Witches surrounded us, watching us from the trees and shrubs as we approached Whitegrove Chapel. With the invitation to hunt Alliance in Drustvar, I had already felt a deepened sense of camaraderie with The Grim, the way they all showed no remorse in felling whatever stood in their path, it was glorious...and to invite me to the bloodshed? Fantastic.

Upon reaching Whitegrove, I had spotted a Kal'dorei Druid skulking in the shadows before anyone else, a favorable advantage of losing my sight---I gained a heightened awareness through new 'eyes'. I called out the target, and The Grim, again without hesitation, fell upon the Druid.

I took a moment, prying my glaive from the side of the blooded carcass...the feeling of the hunt. This was something I needed...and The Grim, I dare say, are better hunting companions than the Illidari. On that note, I'd gladly defend The Grim with my life, as family, friends...compatriots. Never let a good hunting partner go to waste...not such partners that do such with such ferocity, strength and dedication.

The Hunt continued...Draenei, Dwarves, Humans...they fell to our bloodlust. Paladins, Priest, Witches...all the same. The Grim continued to show their true unbridled power, and it is something to be proud of.

- Athaelos Crimsonvein

[Qabian]

Qabian read over the report with a traditional smirk on his face. A lack of specific references to those who might recognize him, but an appropriate sense of relishing the work. The mage scratched the word "Good" in the margins, put the paper aside, then drew a line through a name on another.