Day Twenty-Nine

Dragonfires burn everything. Twisted metal, scorched bone, even the saronite steps of the gate were shattered under the heat.
But they're Reds; out of every crack and crevasse comes life. Flowers of a thousand unnamed varieties, moss on the rocks, and I could have sworn that was a black lotus growing on the gate itself. Oh the things I could learn spending just a week with them in a time of peace; their herbalists must be unparalleled.

Anyways, I found what I was looking for. It's a paladin's hammer, Lightforged by the finest smiths of Ironforge and blessed by the Archbishop himself. I'm afraid any power it may have had was burned away by the Dragons. I'll have to have it reforged, it'll take a powerful smith to remake the weapon.
And remaking it is only the beginning; It'll need to be blessed by one favored by the Light. I'll need to have it inscribed with certain runes, so as to bind it to my faith and my strength. And lastly I'll need to gain the strength to wield it. Of all the tasks the last will likely be hardest. But I am resolved to see it to the finish.

Light guide me in this undertaking. May its power strengthen me and its protection rest on my quest.

Day Twenty-Eight

I can't believe no one at Fordragon hold bothered trying to stop on injured troll and an unarmed priestess. Somehow we made it right past though. The Kor'Kron are little better. A sort of passive malaise seems to have fallen on the steps of the wrathgate. Fortunately, the Argent Crusade has sent a few healers here to help with the survivors. It's less their injuries and more the spiritual and mental damage that they suffered in the disaster. I think that getting Jad back into fighting shape should be no real problem for them. In the meantime I'll be searching the steps for a paladin's weapon; something I can carry with dignity.

It's nice having some space to work on my Alchemy in again. The whole base is practically abandoned, I've taken over one of the outbuildings. Orcish architecture, but compared to the utter crap the Forsaken have been building lately it's kind of nice. Plenty of space, I can set up my kit on one side of the room and vault over the bunker of crates for cover on the other.
Not that I need it often, but it's nice to put an extra layer of defense between me and the occasional bad elixir. Helps with angry mobs and oozes too.


Did you know that oozes are the leading cause of death in alchemists after spontaneous combustion and war? Learning how to properly kill them used to be an essential part of the Dalaran standardized Alchemy curriculum. Magic is best, although managing to breach the outer skin works in a pinch. I hear goblin grenades are the most effective method of all though.

Day Twenty-Seven

Found my pen. It fell in the snow during that tussle with the ghouls last night. I insisted on staying until we found it. The rest will do him some good anyways.
Yea, a squad of ghouls stumbled on our camp last night. We managed to kill them, but it was pretty scary. Damn things came out of nowhere, one of them puked on the fire and we had to fight in the dark. It could be me, but I think they're getting weaker since Arthas died. I wonder how that's going to affect us.
Or them anyways, I've never really been under his influence. It was a Forsaken plague that killed me, or rather several Forsaken plagues. Still, the root plague was his and I expect some part of it will still affect all of us.

Jad's recovering. I've convinced him to just stick to magic until he's recovered a bit. As long as that curse is their he'll be endangering himself with every fight, more so than usual anyways. The poultice is helping, I've been using copious amounts of Goldclover so it had better be working. I've added a minor potion regimen as well. He should be working fine by the time we get to the Wrathgate.


Speaking of which, I can see it over the hill. We should arrive tomorrow around lunch.

Day Twenty-Five

He's cursed. It's an old one too. I've had to consult a grimorie to identify it. It's what's called a 'curse of wounds'; he can't recover from wounds on his own, no matter how long he rests. I've begun a regimen of poultice-soaked bandages. This just keeps getting worse.
I'd prepare a purification potion, but I can't afford the month it would take to ferment properly. I kinda hope someone in Dalaran knows how to dispel curses, because despite what many apothecaries will tell you purification potions only rarely work properly on curses.

Of equal importance is how he got cursed in the first place. Normally I'd say he had an extended run in with a warlock or a necromancer, but the curse just doesn't have that sort of feel to it. I think this may be a rather recent issue, particularly since he seems to have been unaware of it. I'd wager, seeing as none of the Taunka or Kor'kron had the magical capacity to place such a curse so easily undetectable, that this was the work of someone in Dalaran. I haven't badgered him over who might want him to suffer like this, but I might have too.



Oh, and I had that dream again last night. There was blood on her hands this time. I'm going to be cutting my stay in Dalaran short so I can return home. Even if I can't hope to help her from this side of the wall, I can at least have the crypt cleaned and readied for her return.

Day Twenty-Four

Sun was out today, that was nice. Trees are still dead, but I suspect this is about the point when they would have started growing leaves. Herbs are still frozen solid; made a Little progress identifying some more of them. Tiger lily seems more frequent around water, so it actually is a lily(see 'talandra's rose'). Goldclover is also properly named. I can't help but wonder if those explorations had actual alchemists accompanying them. There's also this sort of indistinguishable dead herb that grows everywhere. Whatever those herbs were, they've all faded to a single potent weed. It's a real shame to see so much of the local flora totally shattered by the Lich King's influence. Perhaps in time things will recover; and undead and all, I'll probably be there to watch it happen.

I had to stitch Jad up again. I always heard that Trolls recovered quickly, I'm starting to wonder if there might be some kind of pre-existing condition or magical ailment on top of the wounds I know of. I think I'll have to try a detection ritual. I don't need the ritual, I just think that, as good tribes-troll, he'll be more comfortable if I perform one. Besides, I've got all this extra incense sitting around weighing down my pack and want to get rid of it.
It's also more fun that way.

Day Twenty-Three

Made half the time today we did yesterday. I had to change his bandages hourly. I know the Kor'Kron outpost by the Wrathgate should have medical facilities. We'll stop there for a couple extra days so I can make sure his wound seal properly again. Until then I'll have to keep a close eye on him for any signs of infection or excess bleeding.


I've been thinking back on the last year. Since I died I've been doing things for the RAS; terrible things. The use of the plague is practically necromancy.
Scratch that, use of the plague is necromancy.
The question is; what other choice do we have? Between killing people and raising them there can be no question that it's wrong; but we have no way of continuing to grow without it.
Before I was willing to do it as a temporary measure. I now know that they intend to make it a lifestyle instead of a necessary evil. I still have the implements though, if I must I can.

But in order to end the evil practice I must put my full efforts into finding a cure, or at least a fertility restorative. It is of the utmost important that I succeed.
Light provide me wisdom, insight, and luck in my task. And forgive me for aiding in such evils.


Oh, and Jad decided that after my difficulty dealing with that soldier yesterday I should join him in his calishtetics, or something like that. As if the day couldn't get any more tiresome, now I have to exercise before I take my eight hour walk. At least now when I have a weapon I'll have the strength to use it.

Night Twenty-Two

I just had a dream.

Dad always said that I should keep records of any dreams that stood out. With as little sleep as I normally get having dreams at all is rare, much less one of a striking nature.
I'll admit that the problem is further compounded by my past overuse of Dreamless sleep potions. I always make sure to warn younger alchemists of the dangers of overusing dreamless sleep potions; I just wish someone had mentioned it to me when I was younger. So much perfectly good dreaming lost forever.

Anyways, I dreamt of wolves. A little girl was sitting in a pen with nothing but the shadows to garb her, and the wolves were howling from all sides, and also from within the pen. And she was staring at me, crying for me to help. But I couldn't get into the pen.
Then the earth shook and there was fire all around us, and the pen was torn asunder. But when I went to put my cloak around the girl and comfort her I found instead a wolf greater and fiercer than the others. And as the wolf-girl pounced I woke.



I think Ehrnren is in trouble.