Hunched over the kitchen table in Xaraphyne Nawe's charming homestead, Khorvis set about putting quill to paper. It was a humbling exercise, not only because of his new lack of depth perception caused by the damage to his eldritch eye, but more so due to the overwhelming sense of foolhardiness and disgraceful rebelliousness that he had shown on the deck of the steam-barge. Commander Stonespire had made it clear that this Accalia curse would be put to the torch like all other foes of the Mandate, and yet still Khorvis had thought his own way better. Use the curse as a weapon. Spread it like a plague in Stormwind. How very far that had gotten him! Just a few miles down the canyon and a dead proto-drake, not to mention the collateral damage to the Great Lift. That would definitely be coming out of his stipend... Were it not for the stalwart hearts of his comrades, Leyu'jin and Xaraphyne, Khorvis would likely be dead in some ditch on the side of the Gold Road, or strapped to a sacrificial altar in Razorfen Downs. So it was with this humility that the Grim High Inquisitor crafted a careful letter to Awatu:
Khorvis wrote:Commander,
There is an old legend that was once told in the village of my ancestors, on the shores of the Devouring Sea. A young orc did fall entranced by the Pale Lady, one of our twin moons in the night sky. This orc did set sail from Zeth'kur every night that the Lady was in her full, and every time he neared the barrier isles, his father and uncle did catch the skiff before their young one rowed off. This foolishness did continue until one night, when the Pale Lady was blushing, a full fist of ogres sacked the village. Watching from the shadows, the youth waited until all the warriors were called into battle. It was then that he sailed South and was lost to the sea and time. Many of the village did claim that our second moon was the heart of this young orc, forever chasing the Pale Lady across our night sky.
One early morning, my father did put myself and brother Wren into his skiff and sailed us past the barrier isles, heading far to the South. We reached the Skeletal Coast and father did show to us the wreckage of many boats upon those rocky breakers. He said to Wren and I, "This is the fate of those foolish whelps who would rather chase a distant light than stand by their families and slay the true threat." We did not speak another word on the voyage back to Zeth'kur.
Commander, I do not wish to chase the Pale Lady in spite of the Mandate. I write these words to you from the homestead of Huntress Xaraphyne Nawe. This curse, whatever it might be, is a threat to our ranks. I do agree with your words fully - it must be culled and stamped out like the plague it is. My mind is at ease - the curse has been torn from my skull with the soul-shard of the Twice-Made. It was lost to the chance of Huntress Nawe's pet wolf, and I do think that the Wordbearer will tell you more of that tale. What does matter the most to our cause is the safety of our members and the containment of the foe. I will return to our Halls under the current moon in hopes that you will guide my blade from the barrier isles and onto shore.
Khorvis Bloodstar
High Inquisitor
