A Worn Book by Redcap

[Keeper Of Lore]

Today I took my test and passed. I am aMagister, being of House Danwspire it was always assumed I would be.I trained hard for this day, this recognition.

With my new title came newresponsibilities.

As a Scion of House Dawnspire and theeldest I was used to some leadership but the advancing sense of dreadmy people felt I was placed in a program to sharpen my skills so Icould lead my people into battle.




So many of the long spell incantationsand elaborate rituals were being subsumed with this new school ofthought, the invading, scourge, yes scourge I believe it is called,will not wait patiently while we decant for hours. The spells wereless powerful initially but could be cast in seconds and repeatedlywith a slight sense of a pull of spirit through the Sunwell. Iexcelled again as was my wont and was soon leading scouting partiesout to where these unknown creatures were making forays into ourlands.



I am not sure why they chose a mage tolead their scouts, the men and women I led could have moved muchfaster without me holding them down. I seemed to make too much noisewhile these Ghost's slipped in and out of concealment. Lucky for me Icould be invisible, but this did not cover my sounds. More than onceone of the rangers would tap me on the shoulder and ask me to bequieter or at least stand still.



Days have passed since we were sent outon this latest patrol, we always arrive just a little too late tohelp the people, we find the place desecrated with nothing living, nobuildings standing and a general sense of malaise lingering. Theflora is wilted and dead , the fauna seems to be either missing orgnawed upon.

We travel now close together thereports I gather on my stone fill me with horror and dread. An armymarches towards Silvermoon. If this were a normal army one would feela sense of loss since their lives would be wasted up the killinggrounds before our mighty gates and walls. But this army has onething all others did not, it is made up of the dammed, it seems thatsomehow the dead have been brought back into a shambling unlife bysome power. Several of our fallen troops have been seen marching intheir vast shambling horde.

The horde is huge, a mindless beast. Ithas demons and other unholy things inside it. Sylvanas is said tohave fallen under their sway also. Surely there is no thing thisforce cannot accomplish if their magics can turn her. I will notdespair, I am Vendaira Dawnspire, I have never run from battle, Iwill never run from battle, my house has lived for thousands ofyears. Our glory has only grown, I may not be the one to figure outthe spell to crack this shell but then I am a neophyte when it comesto the council of mages and my Mother.




We are being sent out of the city againit is supposed to be a short foray for intelligence the army is atmost a hour away. All of my weakness, my softness the things thatmade me appreciate the sounds of water tinking over stones from afountain have been burned away in this crucible of War. I distancemyself from my sisters and even find little comfort in my babybrother, I think Mahakali senses this and has returned to her ways inher youth of tormenting the lad. I will stop this once I return fromthis mission. One last mission with my rangers, my band of brothers,for these people have grown grimmer in their lives, their outlookshave turned from beauty to death. I know with a thousand of these menI could remove the threat for our doors, sadly only 20 of us are leftfrom my initial Warband.

We have found a source of theirenergies and I have laid eyes on the Ranger Sylvanas, she is dead ornot, she lives and glows with a unholy beauty. We go to try anddestroy this source and Sylvanas before it is too late. If my lifehas to end so our people may go on this I accept.


***the journal ends here. It was placedon a tabletop in the Grim hall. It is battered and bloodstained andseems to be missing entries and pages. The book looks like a old dogin his favorite chair. **

[Keeper Of Lore]

Redcap wanders in and looks around. He reads through the messages his brothers and sisters have written.

While looking at the book he adds a few more pages to the journal

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The words burn, the laughter, thesounds of joy.

Walking through Silvermoon I amreminded of all I was and can no longer be. I am not clumsy like ahuman or hideously disfigured like the shock troops of the scourge. Iam a Elf, my people are what you would call the Sind'orei. I amhowever changed, transformed, metamorphosed. I am Forsaken.

I see the place where my first kisshappened, where my mother used to take us for walks before .. wellbefore. The sun I can sense that it is warm and the automatonswondering the streets parroting the words of a long dead idea.Seeing, hearing, smelling all the things that make home, home.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection inthe fountain, my features are Silvermoon, I am mostly the same butyou can see a part of me has died, unlike the city though Iunderstand my change and have truly reveled in the power afforded meby this. The puny mages of this city draw on the powers of others,their eyes glow green with stolen energy and yet we are not sodifferent.

My eyes reflect the eternity I have yetto live, when this city is dust and ashes and the name Dawnspire isremembered no more I shall exist. I control the power of Demons andknow that my soul is my own, these Blood Elves summon magic anddemons, but at what cost? They to have given up what it is to bealive and free of all outside influences.

When I journeyed among the Grim, Iheard these children's laughter and their games of kissing. Trulythese children do not make war they play at being adults withresponsibility's and battle. I led troops on both sides, I awoke anewto my 3rd life with a burning desire to never have my willnot my own and I get to listen to children squeal and play. I guessevery civilization needs to bring life back into itself when it hascome so close to destruction. But their inane chattering about who iskissing who and do I look like a .. well let's just say Grim was notwhat I expected, I guess when you look at the shell of Grim you seethe darkens that is Abric, Bloodscream, Lascivious, Lupen and youthink with these pieces of death and evil leading them how could theybe anything but cold souled reavers? Maybe they are wiser than me andlet them run their mouthes, maybe like any good General they know youneed fodder for the mills of War. Maybe my time among the scourgehave made me despise all living things? That would probably be why Ipushed the children so. I however do love my family or I rememberwhat it was like to love them, to hold dear others not myself, thismemory is not a new memory or a very strong one, but it is a tie tomy past and I will not give it up to be wholly forsaken.

I will journey with others for a while,grow powerful and see where these Grim go, perhaps one day I willeven see the rogue on the field of battle and not wonder what herblood tastes like. I know the Dark One has my little brother keepingtrack of me and my movements and I truly wish I could have stayedcloser to the sharp end. I will keep watch on my family and whatevergets in it's way I will remove.

I am Forsaken and my road is my own.