RE: Report and etchings of research activities on lost and rare Scrolls and Tombs.
Dear Inquisitor,
I have only recently returned from journeys far and wide to discover the resting places of the many texts you laid out in your list. The vast majority were elusive, buried deep within the cursed halls of long since forgotten crypts, or worse, casually tossed on a ale soaked floor at some backwater inn and being used as a foot rest by an illiterate Troll. My long search, however did bring me back to one of my favorite places of study, the keep above the ruined town of Caer Darrow, now known as Scholomance.
Long before I came to the Grim, I had spent many days and nights within the walls of Scholomance learning from the Necromancers whatever I could. Back then it was a lively place, full of screaming and death. The students were helpful, to a point, and the faculty were the darkest most evil creatures you could imagine.
Unfortunately most of Kel'Thuzad's former school is now filled with mindless atrocities and less than instinctive students. As it was, due to a misunderstanding with something Kartuk had said to one female student in particular, we were set upon by many of the student body as well as the instructor and his assistant.
Left with little options we were forced to char the room...with the students inside. Luckily Kartuk and I found a treasure trove of manuscripts, historical tombs, and some opinionated works that, laughingly described that putrid bag of filth, Arthas Menethil as some sort of victim who had been duped into becoming what we now know as the vile Lich King.
Ignoring most of those I did happen upon a text titled "War of the Spider" which chronicled the actions of the entity named Ner'zhul who presided over the frozen throne prior to Arthas's ascension. The tomb described the conflict between the powerful Nerubian spider-lords and the scourge, both of whom I fought with many times during my stay in Northrend. After reading the text, I was stricken at how such a powerful and ancient race had been defeated by Ner'zhul, even without the power of Arthas and his sword Frostmourne against them. The Nerubians could clearly fight, and they had a natural resistance to the influential powers of Ner'zhul and yet still they ended in defeat. I guess in the end the Nerubians could not coordinate their efforts and lost slowly to attrition. A sad end to a great civilization don't you think? Perhaps this telling story is one that the Undead should study further, least we find ourselves holding a short straw.
One of the texts, "The Last Guardian" took me all the way to Westfall, just west of Stormwind. Now, I feel I must inform you that while I know the Grim tends to frown upon the killing of younglings I want to assure you that I personally did not attack the young human who so stupidly crossed our path. Unfortunately for him, the projectile he released in my direction caused Kartuk to react and attack him viciously. By the time I was able to pull Kartuk off the human he was clearly dead. When I questioned Kartuk about the incident he claimed that he had assumed it was "Go time", whatever that means, and that he was just trying to "out DPS" me? ... Demons truly can be confusing and Kartuk is doubly so. I honestly only understand half of what comes out of his mouth, and the rest I try to ignore. That said, the human died and I learned that the young men of Stormwind can be very, very foolish.
As for the book, I found the hubris of the Guardian Agewynn only equal to the damage she inflicted on this world. Every decision and action she made was scripted for her by the titan, Sageras, only she was to inept to know it. In the end, she couldn't even recognize that her child, Medivh was the receptacle for one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Again, another example of the failures of the living.
With only a few texts left on our literary tour, Kartuk and I reluctantly traveled back to that zealot filled institution of hypocrisy, the Scarlet Monastery. I always cringe to think of how many of our brothers and sisters fell to these devotionalist lunatics. I assure you that I gave no quarter to any of their ranks, regardless of their pathetic cries for mercy...something they have never shown to the Forsaken. Once the last of them had been dispatched, Kartuk and I settled in and enjoyed the vast library that had obviously been absconded from helpless plague victims over the many years.
I was surprised by two things here. One, that Kartuk could not only read but he actually seemed to understand what he was reading, and two that I found yet another copy of the War of the Spider lying on the floor inside a hall way. Coincidence?
I will bring the tattered manuscript to a book dealer I know in Undercity and see if it's tattered spine can be restored so that it may be shared and enjoyed by others of our fate.
While our journey traversed most of Azeroth and took us to both the seedy armpits and cursed crypts of this world, over all I must report that it was also a journey of great intellectual discovery and I thank you for this enlightened task. I feel that I come from it with a better understanding of both the enemy and ourselves. Perhaps one day a new novel will be added to the volumes of Azeroth's great works...one written from the perspective of the damned...a story, of living through death.
With regards,
Hype
of the Undead