tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85645851841571174092024-03-13T08:52:33.819-07:00Travels through Azeroth and OutlandDestronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-50023775912452573092020-10-14T08:49:00.002-07:002020-10-14T08:49:15.546-07:00An Abridged History of the Orcs<b>An Abridged History of the Orcs<br /><br />Prehistory</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Orcish oral tradition holds that the first orcs were born from the blood of the earth as it made war against sea and sky. Though physical evidence of the first orcs has long since been lost, orcs believe that the first cultures originated in the southern half of Nagrand (which did not survive the Breaking).</li><li>Early orcs likely engaged in hunting and gathering. Unlike the humans, who could draw what few cultural memories they maintained from their vrykul forebears, the orcs had to develop mostly on their own.</li><li>Scattered arakkoa artifacts indicate that some orcs may have served the arakkoa as slaves. Some cultures may have even seen the arakkoa as spirits (modern orcish historians joke that this lasted only until the orcs discovered that the arakkoa could bleed).</li><li>The orcs in Nagrand eventually develop into pastoralists, keeping herds of talbuks and clefthoofs. The oldest oral histories date back to this era, speaking of warriors, shamans, and tricksters who dealt with spirits and rival orcs.</li><li>Competition over grazing lands may have pushed a significant portion of the orcs east, into Terokkar Forest and Shadowmoon Valley. It is believed that these orcs probably discovered metallurgy.</li><li>Despite the advantage of having metal weapons, Draenor's rugged terrain made it difficult to form large polities, so the forest peoples are never able to leverage their metal weapons into a significant advantage.</li><li>Agriculture is discovered at some point, probably in the fertile river valleys of northern Nagrand. They face persecution from their nomad cousins in the south as well as ogres. As a result, they develop into an even more warlike culture. The earlier elements of the honor code probably develop here, as a means for resolving disputes between farming villages (which must maintain some level of unity).</li></ul><br /><b>400 - 300 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Oshu'gun, known to the draenei as Jaikoob, makes its descent in central Nagrand. Unable to put Oshu'gun into its proper context, the orcs see it as a portent of great things to come. The fact that it lands closer to the agricultural north serves to further unify the farming cultures.</li><li>The Naaru within Oshu'gun, K'ure, creates a sort of communion with the orcish ancestors. Though unable to fully appreciate the implications, local shamans do pick up on the supernatural events. Almost overnight, Oshu'gun becomes a focus of northern orcish culture.</li><li>Initial interaction between the draenei and the orcs is quite limited. The draenei remain friendly but relatively aloof, not wanting to bring the orcs into their conflict with the Burning Legion. Using Oshu'gun's arcane powers, they move much of their population to the future site of Shattrath City.</li><li>Northern shamans organize yearly gatherings at Oshu'gun. These kosh'harg festivals put a stop to inter-clan warfare, and give clans a chance to resolve their situations peacefully.</li><li>At some point, orcs in northern Nagrand take advantage of the kosh'harg to attack the lightly defended homes of their enemies. Though they succeed in plundering their rivals, the other communities unite against them and drive these orcs into Zangarmarsh.</li><li>Unable to support cattle in the fungal swamp, the orcs split. Those who stay in Zangarmarsh are forced to resort to cannibalism (because orcs require regular intakes of red meat in order to stay healthy), and become known as the Bonechewer Clan. Others move to the east, and eventually forge a new identity as warriors and hunters in the deserts of Hellfire Peninsula; they call themselves the Shattered Hand Clan as a way to commemorate the suffering they experienced on their long exile.</li><li>Nomads and forest orcs begin to attend the kosh'harg. The nomads mostly do so in order to trade, and they have little respect for their agriculturalist cousins. The forest orcs, who had long been isolated, learn more about the Nagrand shamanistic traditions. The cultural and spiritual power granted by Oshu'gun is absent in other areas, and the forest shamans wonder if there is any way for them to serve their communities in the same capacity as the Nagrand spiritualists.</li><li>Contact between the draenei and the orcs remains limited. The draenei allow a few orcish traders (this is mostly so as they can keep an eye on what the orcs are doing, and learn if there is any demonic presence in Draenor).</li><li>Orcish writing, closely based off of Eredun script, is developed. It's mostly used for accounting and records; shamans (jealous of maintaining their cultural power) enact a taboo against writing stories or histories.</li></ul><br /><b>300 BDP - 250 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>At some point in this era, the tribes of Shadowmoon Valley begin to send their shamans to the arakkoa for training. As a result, the shamans of these clans begin to dabble with shadow magic, which will have dire consequences for the orcs in the future.</li><li>Draenic settlers reach Farahlon (present day Netherstorm). Here, they encounter hunter-gatherer orcs in the tropical jungle. Called the Laughing Skull Clan (apparently a form of gallows humor), they had apparently migrated north into the equatorial regions thousands of years in the past, and led a very marginal existence within the dangerous tropics. Due to their isolation from other orcs, the draenei elected to introduce them to the Holy Light.</li><li>This attempt ends badly, in part due to cultural misunderstanding. An essentially stone age culture, the Laughing Skull Clan has no way to contextualize draenic actions. When invited into draenic cities, the orcs have no idea how they are expected to act, and often steal food and flee into the forest.</li><li>An incident in which three draenei are killed leads to the local draenei forbidding the Laughing Skull orcs from entering their cities. After more failed attempts to proselytize to the orcs in the wilderness, the Farahlon communities cut off all contact with the orcs.</li><li>After establishing Shattrath, the draenei continue to expand throughout Terrokar Forest. Tuurem and Auchindoun begin construction at this time. The increased draenic presence pushes the orcs to the edge of Terokkar. This is not deliberate on the part of the draenei. Though aggressive, the orcs are too intimidated by the scale of the cities and draenic magic to directly retaliate.</li><li>Some Terokkar orcs migrate east towards Shadowmoon Valley, where they form the Twilight's Hammer Clan and fall into the Shadowmoon Clan's cultural orbit. Others attempt to settle in Nagrand, but are rebuffed, and instead move to Hellfire Peninsula.</li><li>The migrants in Hellfire are unable to consolidate, and end up dispersing. These isolated bands fare poorly against the Shattered Hand Clan, and are driven deep into the eastern wastes or are enslaved.</li><li>The Yellowblight, a desert south of Nagrand, begins spread into the land of the Nagrand pastoralists.</li></ul><br /><b>250 - 200 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>United by an ogre lord claiming to represent the will of the gronn, the Blade's Edge ogres are temporarily forged into a fearsome (albeit ill-disciplined) army: the Rampage. The Rampage first attacks the jungles of Farahlon, tearing apart the draenic cities. The draenei retreated to the largest citadel in the area, also known as Farahlon. Some of the ogre war bands stayed and made themselves the overlords of the scattered Laughing Skull Clan.</li><li>After looting Farahlon (the region, not the city) the Rampage turned its attention south. Ogre armies set Nagrand and Terokkar aflame, killing all that they encountered.</li><li>A visionary orcish warrior named Ogmar Stonehowl rallied the clans of Nagrand, Terrokar Forest, and Shadowmoon Valley. His own clan, the Stonebreakers, were relatively small, but their tenacity and courage did much to weaken the Rampage's advance. Ogmar Stonehowl was declared the Warchief of All Orcs, and his force was the ancestor of the modern Horde.</li><li>Linking up with draenic and arakkoa armies, the allied forces fought a brutal campaign up through Zangarmarsh to strike at the ogre homeland. Though never acknowledging Ogmar as leader, the Shattered Hand and Bonechewer clans harried the ogre forces.</li><li>The need to support the troops solidifies the burgeoning class hierarchy of warrior and peon in non-nomadic orcish clans.</li><li>The Blood Gulch Melee saw all three allied armies meet in battle against the leadership core of the Rampage. The cruelest battle in the world's history up to that point, the Rampage's power was forever broken.</li><li>In order to prevent the ogres from again arising, the three forces agreed to keep watch over the Blade's Edge Mountains.</li><li>The draenei also promise to keep an eye on Blade's Edge, but their attentions are redirected to the reconstruction of Farahlon. A new fortress is built, called Zelspur (today known as the Stormspire).</li><li>The arakkoa keep a token force in Blade's Edge, but they become distracted by their own inscrutable obsessions and do little to help.</li><li>Ogmar Stonehowl orders some of his raiders (from the forest tribes) and warriors (from Nagrand) to guard the Blade's Edge Mountains. These become the Thunderlord and Warsong Clans respectively. They shoulder the burden of periodically culling the ogre population and removing any particularly dangerous leaders. The draenei took some issue with their violent methods, but lacked the resources or influence to do anything about it, and again withdrew from orcish affairs.</li></ul><br /><b>200 - 150 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Ogmar Stonehowl returns to his home and moves his clan to Terokkar Forest. Inspired by the draenei, he orders his clan to built Stonebreaker Hold, vowing that it would one day rival Shattrath City. A poor administrator, he is unable to fulfill this vision and the large population succumbs to infighting after he dies in a hunting accident. Stonebreaker Hold never amounts to more than a small and impoverished village.</li><li>A warlord named Zeth unites the clanless Hellfire orcs and at last mounts an effective resistance against the Shattered Hand Clan.</li><li>Driven to the verdant north by the expanding Yellowblight, the southern Nagrand pastoralists begin to encroach on the farmland of the northern clans.</li><li>In Hellfire, Zeth builds the walled city of Zeth'kur on the southern coast. Known as the Red City, it is approached by the surrusil, a salamander-like race from another continent. The surrusil seek slaves for their violent arena games, offering servitor warriors and weapons in return. Zeth accepts this bargain, finding slaves in Shattered Hand POWs and socially ostracized Zeth'kur inhabitants.</li><li>A draenic anchorite named Pekara, traumatized by the violence of the Ogre War, begins to preach a new creed of finding the Light's eternal joy in the peaceful servitude of undeath. She gradually draws in a network of supporters in Auchindoun, called the Auchenai.</li><li>The Bladewind Clan, in southern Nagrand, unites the nomads under the leadership of Krogarg the Crimson Hand. Calling themselves the Stampede, the nomads descend on the northern farmers, showing no mercy. This is the beginning of the Blood River War.</li><li>Some of the northern farmers appeal for help, but the draenei remain indecisive. One reason for this is the growing power of the Auchenai heresy. They also remembered how their interference worsened the position of the Laughing Skull Clan. The draenei finally choose to give limited aid to the north.</li><li>The northern clans use a sacred spot to create a training ground known as the Ring of Trials. Elite warriors, the Blood Swords, are trained in this place.</li><li>The Blood River War ends with the northern clans forced to give the Stampede access to their lands. Krogarg's empire does not long survive him, and the Stampede devolves into quarreling bands that retreat to the depleted south. It is estimated that 50% of northern Nagrand's male population died in the Blood River War.</li><li>The Blood Sword warriors adopt the name of the Burning Blade Clan, and vow to defend northern Nagrand from future incursions.</li><li>Prophet Velen at last orders troops to expunge the Auchenai, who had begun dabbling in necromancy. A few, led by Exodite Maladar, escape into the wilderness.</li></ul><b><br />150 - 100 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The orcs of Zeth'kur look farther afield for more slaves. Their ships raid Farahlon, taking slaves from the Laughing Skull Clan, and also buying ogres captured by the Warsong Clan. Some arakkoa are also targeted. The draenei are left alone.</li><li>The Temple of Telhamat is founded in order to give the Hellfire orcs a more peaceful example to emulate. The draenei also regret their failure to intervene in the Blood River War, and hope to avoid similar bloodshed in the north. Unfortunately, Telhamat accomplishes little.</li><li>The town of Telaar is built in Nagrand in order to monitor Oshu'gun. Though the orcs do not attack it, there is visible animosity against the draenei. Telaar's population gradually dwindles, leaving Oshu'gun unattended.</li><li>First reported sightings of the mok'nathal.</li><li>The Burning Blade Clan begins to make punitive raids on nomad camps. They are sometimes aided by the Bleeding Hollow Clan, a minor Terokkar clan that grew powerful by smuggling stolen or abandoned draenic weapons to the north during the Blood River War.</li></ul><br /><b>100 - 50 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The draenei begin construction on Karabor in the far east of Shadowmoon Valley. They hope to use it both to serve the Light, and also to better harness the leylines. The long-term plan is to use the magic to ensure that the Burning Legion never discovers Draenor. Unfortunately, this site is the location of the Ragestorm Clan's preferred hunting grounds.</li><li>The draenei do what they can to ease the transition, promising the Ragestorm that they will get all the food and support they need until they can resettle. Insulted by the offer, the Ragestorm Clan leaves the area on its own, vowing revenge (the Ragestorm, many years later, would become the Dragonmaw Clan). Saddened, the draenei continue, knowing they have no other choice if they are to protect their home world.</li><li>The Shattered Hand Clan builds Hellfire Citadel (initially much smaller) to defend against Zeth'kur.</li><li>In order to get more slaves, Zeth'kur starts to arrest farmers and ranchers around the city. This diminishes their food capacity, and they become dependent on surrusil shipments.</li></ul><br /><b>50 - 0 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Ner'zhul, the shaman of the Shadowmoon Clan, first encounters Kil'jaeden in visions. Already slightly corrupted by his time training with the arakkoa, and fueled by the indignities suffered by the Ragestorm Clan, Ner'zhul is easily manipulated. Gathering support from the Ragestorm and Twilight's Hammer, he begins to reach out to the clans of northern Nagrand.</li><li>Still resentful over draenic neutrality in the Blood River War, the clans of northern Nagrand agree that payback is in order. Calling their union the Horde, they prepare to make surprise attacks on draenic settlements.</li><li>Tuurem is the first city to fall. The orcish attack succeeds by virtue of surprise and sheer ferocity. They kill most of those who can fight back, and the civilians disperse into the woods; the orcs kill some, but don't bother making any organized pursuit.</li><li>Other small towns, like Telaar and Halaa, are also overwhelmed. Despite these successes, the Horde's long-term prospects appear grim. They simply don't have the organization or logistical capability to defeat a foe as well-entrenched as the draenei.</li><li>The remnants of the Stonebreaker Clan merges with the Bleeding Hollow.</li><li>Unsure where to strike, draenic forces have difficulty marshaling an effective resistance, though they almost always defeat the orcs in actual combat.</li><li>Several orcs suggest seeking help from the arakkoa, thinking that their dark magic would give them an edge against the draenei. This is vetoed by Ner'zhul, his rationale being that the arakkoa cannot be trusted.</li><li>The Thunderlord and Warsong Clans agree to join the Horde, seeing the draenei as cowards for failing to occupy Blade's Edge. The Shattered Hand Clan does not formally join, but agrees to harass draenic forces in Hellfire Peninsula. Gul'dan also recruits the Bonechewer Clan, and has agents spread agitation throughout the Laughing Skull Clan.</li><li>Learning about Kil'jaeden's nature, Ner'zhul tries to rebel but is betrayed by his protege, Gul'dan. Seeing that the Horde cannot win in its current state, he accelerates the process of demonic corruption. He invites all the clan leaders to drink the blood of the demon lord Mannoroth. Only Durotan, of the Frostwolf Clan, refuses, having been warned of such by Ner'zhul.</li><li>Demonic corruption allows the orcs to overcome Draenor's harsh terrain and quickly move large numbers of savage warriors. The larger draenic cities begin to fall.</li><li>An uprising against the City Fathers of Zeth'kur puts the corrupt port in the hands of the Horde. The Bleeding Hollow Clan is chosen to oversee the management of its shipyards. The Bleeding Hollow is chosen to counterbalance the power of the Shattered Hand Clan in the region.</li><li>The Shattered Hand Clan formally joins the Horde.</li><li>Shattrath City falls to the Horde. The remaining draenei retreat to Farahlon, though some hide out in Zangarmarsh.</li><li>Thunderlord, Warsong, and Laughing Skull forces seek to purge Farahlon. The last of the draenic citadels in the area falls to their might.</li><li>The Horde goes about in search of a new enemy. At Gul'dan's urging, the warriors turn their blades against the arakkoa. Many of the Nagrand orcs turn against the nomads (who had contributed relatively little to the Horde), at last finding vengeance for the Blood River War.</li><li>The Hand of Gul'dan is raised in Shadowmoon Valley.</li><li>The Dark Portal opens.</li></ul>Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-9944338094277816032020-10-13T10:44:00.001-07:002020-10-13T11:17:32.372-07:00An Abridged History of Humanity(Quick note: First, BlogSpot hasn't been alerting me about new comments. Thus, I only recently discovered that a bunch of you have been leaving comments on the blog. I tried to respond to all of them, but I apologize if I missed a few.<br /><br />Second, several years ago I posted "abridged histories" for orcs and humans on a forum. I later re-posted them with updates to better reflect the Kul Tiras seen in BfA. I figured that I might as well put them here as well. I haven't read Chronicle (and I think these are older) so what you read here won't match with what's presented there. Regardless, this acts as canon for the travelogue.)<br /><br /><b>An Abridged History of the Humans<br /><br />15000 - 10000 BDP:</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The vrykul are disturbed to see more and more of their children being born sickly and weak. Tolerated at first, the increasing frequency sends the people into paroxysms of alarm, and King Ymiron decrees that all such weaklings must be put to death.</li><li>Over the next 5,000 years, rebellious parents take their mutant children to distant corners of the world. These later develop into the Arathi, Dromascoi, Ralmanni, and Azotha peoples. One group remains in hiding in the north, and eventually becomes the Kirovi.</li><li>As the last of the vrykul parents die off, the humans form simple semi-nomadic communities. Retaining almost nothing of their heritage, they eke out meager existences on the edges of the troll empires.</li><li>Alone among the humans, the Azotha become integrated into the Gurubashi Empire. They develop into a scholar/merchant caste.</li></ul><br /><b>10000 - 2800 BDP:</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Sundering breaks the world. The Kaldorei Empire is destroyed in civil war and demonic invasion, while the Amani and Gurubashi empires begin to collapse.</li><li>The Azotha fare poorly in post-Gurubashi Stranglethorn, eventually being pushed to the most remote regions. Many eventually merged with the Ralmanni (who lived in present-day Duskwood, Deadwind Pass, and the Swamp of Sorrows), though there is evidence that some Azotha attempted an escape to more distant lands.</li><li>Amani dissolution in the north enables the Arathi to seize the realm that now bears their name. Little more than an assembly of oft-warring clans, they become strong enough to repel trollish attacks. Humans rediscover the secrets of metal at this time, forging iron weapons.</li><li>Warfare guts the northern forests as the Amani trolls try to keep control over what is now the Eastern Plaguelands. Dromascoi warriors fight them at every turn. The Amani eventually abandon most of their holdings, but not before decimating the Dromascoi population.</li><li>The Quel'dorei make landfall, first on Tirisfal and later on Quel'thalas.</li></ul><br /><b>2800 - 2700 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Explorers from the Gilnean peninsula reach the islands of Kul Tiras. Seeing the presence of armed humans in their lands, the native Drust raze many of the settlements and slaughter the inhabitants. The Tirasi clans begin a long and bitter war for survival, which will in some ways mirror the conflict between Arathi and Amani.</li><li>The Amani warlord Zul'doram unites the squabbling troll city-states under his banner, vowing to rebuild the empire of old. Quel'thalas is ill-prepared for the attack and buckles under the trollish onslaught.</li><li>Hoping to open up a southern front, elven diplomats make contact with the Arathi Tribes. They go to the premier warlord, Thoradin, and offer to give him a weapon that will make him unstoppable so long as he unites the Arathi against the trolls. Against the advice of his sages, he accepts.</li><li>The Quel'dorei train the first generation of human mages, being very selective in what they are taught. Meanwhile, Thoradin forces or convinces the other tribes to submit to his rule, forming the Arathor Empire.</li><li>The elves also contacted the scattered Dromascoi clans, promising them material rewards if they fought the trolls (magic was not part of the offer). Most Dromascoi accepted. Elven militias cooperating with the Dromascoi eventually become the Farstriders, thanks to what the Dromascoi teach them.</li><li>The united Arathi launch an incursion into the Amani-held Hinterlands. The elven invasion occurs at the same time, and Dromascoi guerrilla attacks increase in intensity.</li><li>The Troll Wars last a decade, breaking the power of the Amani for thousands of years to come. At the end, the Arathor Empire becomes the dominant power south of Quel'thalas.</li><li>Struggling with constant Drust attacks and limited land for farming, the Tirasi increasingly turn to the sea for sustenance. Their fishing vessels soon range up and down the coasts, exchanging goods with strong communities, and raiding the weak. Many Tirasi turn to the worship of obscure sea gods, which seems to bolster the speed of their fleets.</li></ul><br /><b>2700 - 2500 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Tirasi fleets make contact with the goblins, striking up a trade in alchemical ingredients (among other commodities).</li><li>Fearing the power that the Arathor Empire might wield, many of its mages depart to found the city of Dalaran. Located at a nexus of leylines, it proved an ideal location. Furious at this betrayal, the Arator Empire initially tried to conquer Dalaran, but were beaten back by the sorceries of its defenders.</li><li>Strengthened by trade and technology, the Tirasi clans unite under a single banner and turn the tides of the war. They are futher bolstered by the Thornweavers, Drust dissidents who teach the humans a crude form of druidism. The Tirasi eventually create a new weapon called liquid fire, made with reagents received from the goblins.</li><li>The Dalaranese tried to get into the good graces of Quel'thalas, but were repeatedly rebuffed.</li><li>Dalaran and the Arator Empire signed a treaty in which the emperors would be routinely given beautiful (but militarily useless) magical items as tribute in return for non-interference. The emperor used these items to reward subordinates and display his own might.</li><li>The Year of Flame. Tirasi forces finally take the fight to the Drust homeland of Drustvar. The Tirasi chiefs had promised their Thornweaver allies that they would offer leniency to those Drust who surrendered, they instead reneged on this deal and burned the forests of Drustvar until the skies turned red. Records report that the Tirasi ritually drowned the Thornweavers as sacrifices to the sea.</li></ul><br /><b>2500 - 1200 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Arathor Empire continues to grow in size. Despite the grand title and the pretensions of equalling elven power, the Arathor Empire is still little more than an assembly of clans, loosely united by blood ties. More land is taken, partly to reward those who served in the Troll Wars.</li><li>With the threat gone, Quel'thalas starts to look inwards. There's some talk about turning the Dromascoi into a buffer state, but nothing ever comes of it. A few elves argued that they were obliged to help the Dromascoi, but nobody listened.</li><li>Arathor expands into Silverpine Forest, though center has only nominal control over the frontier regions.</li><li>With the Drust no longer a threat, the Tirasi kingdom begins to fray and fall into disorder.</li><li>Arathoran ships begin to raid the depleted Tirasi holdings, starting the first of several wars. The Tirasi equip their ships with liquid fire, giving them a decisive advantage against invading fleets. However, internal rebellions and rumors of witchcraft created constant tumult within Kul Tiras. The Tirasi leadership finally sued for peace, agreeing to offer limited tribute to Arathor.</li><li>In 2487 BDP, the Arathor Empire reaches its territorial apex by claiming Tirisfal Glades. However, it never undergoes much in the way of social development, and remains a barbaric and violent place.</li><li>Contact is made with the dwarves. Tirasi merchants begin a lively trade, reinvigorating their island after centuries of stagnation.</li></ul><b><br />1200 - 1100 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>By this point, Arathor Empire no longer wields much in the way of central power. Even the tribute system has fallen into disrepair. Regional warlords in Gilneas, Alterac, and Lordaeron are the only meaningful powers in their areas. Kul Tiras has recovered much of its former prestige.</li><li>The Arathor Empire becomes increasingly concerned with rebellious nobles in the heartland (Hillsbrad/Arathi Highlands). Though claims to the rest of the empire are never officially abandoned, they no longer have any meaning.</li><li>Emboldened by the Arathor Empire's fall, the trolls make aggressive raids, particularly around Alterac. However, these end after a few years.</li><li>Kul Tiras monopolized trade with Khaz Modan. Yet the dwarves grew increasingly wary of the Tirasi, particularly their cephalopod-masked tidesages who practiced human sacrifice. In order to justify their alliance with such a repulsive group, the dwarves pushed Kul Tiras to sow dissension in the Lordaeronian continent to prevent the creation of a strong human empire that might ever threaten the dwarves.</li></ul><br /><b>1100 - 1150</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Arathor Empire had given eastern Tirisfal to Clan Menethil in ages past as a reward for its services in the Troll War. With the empire receding into history, King Telean Menethil declared himself the sovereign of Lordaeron.</li><li>Thanks to trade with Khaz Modan, metals had become more plentiful, even in the far north. This allowed Telean Menethil to create the first armored knights. He used this cavalry to impressive effect, uniting Tirisfal and the present-day Western Plaguelands under his rule.</li><li>His son, Telean Menethil II, decided to expand Lordaeron into the lands of the Dromascoi, who still resided in simple villages and the odd motte-and-bailey castle. The Dromascoi put up a valiant resistance, but fell to the armored warriors of Lordaeron.</li><li>A knight named Cassian found himself disturbed by the brutality waged by his own kindred during the campaign. Despairing, he fell into a vision that lasted three days and three nights. Upon returning the mortal world, he relayed his experience to a scribe, who wrote it down. Thus was created the Exegesis of the Light.</li><li>The new Holy Light spread quickly throughout Lordaeron. Telean Menethil II himself converted (though many think he may have simply recognized the unifying benefits that such a religion offered).</li><li>Priests and missionaries enter Dromascoi lands. Though associated with Lordaeron, their zeal leads them to openly defy those Lordaeronian overseers who brutalized their Dromascoi wards. The royal court usually came down on the side of the church.</li><li>In honor of this "new era of mercy and forgiveness", Telean Menethil II instituted tourneys as an alternative to blood feuds. This served to further cement his control, and unify the nobles.</li><li>Some nobles held to the old ways (worshipping the warlike gods of the old Arathi pantheon). One was Baron Terminon, who gathered some like-minded sorts and assembled an army that marched on the capital. A humble priest named Estellan approached Terminon's army and requested an audience. When it was over, Baron Terminon fell to his knees in prayer and vowed to serve the faith from that day forward. The Terminon Monastery (now the Scarlet Monastery) was built on the spot of his conversion.</li></ul><br /><b>1150 - 1050 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Holy Light continued its gradual spread throughout the human nations.</li><li>Dalaran's acceptance of the Holy Light (and the worth it attaches to every individual, regardless of rank) leads to criticism of the Kirin Tor, particularly its opaque and sometimes reckless actions. This led to the Seven Days of Justice, in which student mages sided with protestors who demanded that the Violet Hold (a prison originally designed for demons that had eventually become a political prison) be emptied of non-infernal occupants. This succeeded, and the Kirin Tor's organization was changed to be (slightly) more transparent.</li><li>A warlord named Kazelan Starrok comes to Alterac and unites it against trollish attack. He eventually accepted a priest, Ariamus, into his court. The resulting Ariamist heresy assumes a divinely mandated hierarchy in human society, which Starrok uses to form the basis of his new kingdom.</li><li>Gilnean nobles eventually accept the Holy Light, but make little effort to spread it among their people. The faith very slowly filters down to the peasantry.</li><li>The Tirasi merchant princes violently reject the Holy Light, and many missionaries are sacrificed to the sea. Yet the message of the Holy Light resonates with the inland peasants, who do not enjoy the benefits of Kul Tiras's mercantile empire.</li><li>The Arathor remnants are reluctant to accept the new faith, and the authorities initially persecute missionaries. However, more and more people find solace in the world of faith. Seeing their own empire in tatters, many nobles eventually come to accept it.</li><li>An elven princess, Ireesa Sunstrider, becomes curious about the Holy Light and translates the Exegesis of the Light into Thalassian. Using her influence, she spreads the new religion throughout Quel'thalas. Elves consider her translation to be of higher canonicity than Cassian's original.</li><li>The missionary Galdacius brings the Holy Light to Khaz Modan.</li></ul><br /><b>1050 - 1000 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Emperor Falonur Arathi, seeing his house's declining influence, gathers his most loyal retainers in hopes of securing a new future in the unexplored lands to the south. The journey is a difficult one, but enough survive to let Falonur establish the kingdom of Stormwind.</li><li>The Arathor remnants institute the rule of Stewards (in lieu of kings), creating the nation of Stromgarde.</li><li>Lordaeron and Gilneas clash over control of Lordamere Lake. Lordaeron wins the conflict, consolidating its hold on northern Silverpine. This gave it secure access to Dalaranese trade, and put it on the border of Stromgarde-controlled Hillsbrad.</li><li>Kul Tiras begins selling dwarven-made arms to Gilneas and Stromgarde, hoping to prevent Lordaeronian hegemony. By this point, Kul Tiras had its own reasons for taking action to prevent the creation of a unified continental human polity.</li><li>Stormwind settlers encounter the Ralmanni. Following the age-old Arathor policy, Stormwind intended to expand into Ralmanni lands, but initially pretended to be friendly.</li><li>The War of the Bloody Paw, fought between Stormwind and the various gnoll tribes, begins in earnest.</li></ul><br /><b>1000 - 800 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>After joining the Holy Light, the dwarves found they could no longer tolerate the dark religion of Kul Tiras's tidesages. Khaz Modan begins to disinvest from Kul Tiras, and seek allies elsewhere.</li><li>King Velor Arathi of Stormwind dies without a male heir. The throne passes to House Cardhein. The royal court enters a period of treachery as noble houses try to gain control. While this happens, settlers and border nobles continue to wage war against the gnolls.</li><li>Lordaeronian settlers begin to push into Hillsbrad. In response, Stromgarder armies kill or deport them, and insult King Edrias Menethil. Thus begins the Hillsbrad War, an on-and-off conflict that would draw in most of the human kingdoms.</li><li>Lordaeronian troops seize portions of eastern Hillsbrad and fortify the region. However, they are unable to make any further gains once the Gilneans enter the fray on Stromgarde's side.</li><li>The War of the Bloody Paw never officially ends, but the gnoll tribes are driven to the margins of the kingdom and never again become a major threat. During this time, the Redridge Mountains became the de facto fiefdom of the Aldenmar noble lineage.</li><li>Conflicts erupt between Stormwind settlers and Ralmanni natives.</li><li>House Wrynn takes control of Stormwind.</li><li>Kul Tiras is plunged into panic as entire villages disappear, consumed by the wilderness. Many believe that the Drust are somehow responsible, and witch hunters are called to restore order. More shock roils the kingdom when the most successful of the witch hunters, Norana Harrowen, reveals herself to be a follower of the Holy Light. The Cult of the Tidemother is slow to react, and Norana is soon the de facto sovereign of Drustvar (leading many to think she was somehow in league with the Drust-influenced witch cults).</li></ul><br /><b>800 - 700 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Thandol Span is built, breaking the Tirasi monopoly on trade with Khaz Modan. The dwarves made the bridge to demonstrate their power to the quarreling human kingdoms, and also as a reward to Edelreich Eisenschwert, a Stromgarder military advisor who aided the dwarves in defeating an army of ice trolls. Khaz Modan's foreign policy comes to rely more on Stromgarde than on Kul Tiras.</li><li>Norana Harrowen is found drowned, leading many to suspect that the tidesages assassinated her. Kul Tiras resasserts its control over Drustvar, but faces numerous religiously influenced peasant revolts.</li><li>Stromgarder and Gilnean forces besieging Southpoint Tower are routed by a Lordaeronian cavalry charge. The Battle of Southpoint becomes important both politically and culturally. The leader of the knights (a former commoner squire named Aelor Gratus) frames the event in specifically religious terms, comparing Lordaeronian freedom and leniency (particularly in regards to commoners) to the more elitist structures of Stromgarde and Gilneas.</li><li>Lordaeronian Archbishop Padomonnis declares Aelor to be a "Knight of the Faith". Together, they pressure the king into accepting what will be known as the Padomonnian Reforms, which created a legal framework for what feudal lords can and cannot expect from serfs. Though unpopular, the king is able to set the nobles against each other and pass many of the reforms into law. This new method also works well in Lordaeron, as its large size made it difficult to create a highly centralized system.</li><li>A peasant revolt in Stormwind's Redridge Mountains destabilizes the holdings of House Aldenmar. Baron Jesson Aldenmar requests aid from King Otmar Wrynn, only to be rebuffed. Baron Aldenmar puts down the peasants in a spectacularly brutal fashion, and unites the border nobles in an anti-royal coalition. Thus begins the Stormwind Civil War.</li><li>The Lordaeronian advance in Hillsbrad is halted at Azurelode Mountain by a combined force of Stromgarder troops and Tirasi mercenaries. Hostilities cease as all sides take time to recover.</li><li>The Stormwind Civil War comes to an end. Baron Aldenmar is captured and killed by angry peasants. Though King Otmar promised the border lands to loyalist nobles, he used legal trickery to instead put it in the hands of elected offices loyal to the throne. This creates Stormwind's long precedent of using populist support as leverage against recalcitrant aristocrats.</li><li>Stormwind creates the Royal Order of the Conjurers. These consist of Dalaranese mages who were exiled from their homes for conducting experiments that the Kirin Tor deemed dangerous or unethical. Unlike mages, they are willing to explore infernal magic, and become something akin to a secret police force.</li><li>Troubled by the conjurers, the Kirin Tor imposes strict limits on who can or cannot learn magic. The Protectionist Decrees make it so that each recognized sovereign can only send two individuals (pre-selected by the Kirin Tor) for training. All other mages must be Dalaranese citizens, and loyal only to the Kirin Tor. No Stormwinder students are accepted.</li></ul><br /><b>700 - 600 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Battle of Brightwood Grove breaks the last center of Ralmanni power in Stormwind. The remaining Ralmanni abandon their villages and eke out a nomadic existence.</li><li>Lordaeron's foreign policy advisors form the Southshore Rule. This stated that it was imperative for Lordaeron to have at least some presence on the southern coast so as to have access to dwarven markets. This goes hand-in-hand with another military buildup.</li><li>Tirasi and Stromgarder fleets clash in what was called the War of the Waves. Lasting four years, its results were inconclusive. The failure of Tirasi tidesages to secure a decisive victory futher bolstered the ranks of the Holy Light within the kingdom.</li><li>Lord Balkem Starrok of Alterac, seeking to outdo Ironforge, orders a grand new city to be built in the snowy regions. The resulting construction takes 500 years, costs untold numbers of lives, and further bankrupts the obscure kingdom.</li><li>Stormwind nobles stage a bloody coup in which King Pardemnon Wrynn and much of his family is killed. Only a single son, in Westfall at the time, remains. Another civil war breaks out, this one pitting loyalist borderlands against the heartland junta.</li></ul><br /><b>600 - 500 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Culling ends with royalist forces retaking Stormwind City. The noble houses that backed the coup are wiped out to the last man. This forever weakens the power of the nobility in Stormwind. The conjurers are audited and reshaped into a force more accountable to the crown.</li><li>Fearing a similar situation in the north, the Lordaeronian crown works to woo the aristocracy into complacence, buying their attentions with luxury. This results in the creation of remarkable palaces across Lordaeron, as well as a flowering of arts and culture. Unfortunately, it also puts the kingdom on the brink of bankruptcy.</li><li>A roguish Stormwind admiral (Arotan Hanlind) eloped with the daughter (Ellestrie Marosere) of a prominent Lordaeronian noble. This causes a tremendous scandal, and many in Lordaeron believed that Ellestrie was kidnapped (she was not). Lordaeron prepared to set sail against Stormwind, but under his liege's orders, Arotan defuses the situation by setting up a marriage between King Ulrim Wrynn and Lord Marosere's youngest daughter, Tevya (Arotan also relinquished his official title and lived out the rest of his days as a successful entrepreneur with Ellestrie). This event initiates the strong relationship between Lordaeron and Stormwind, and inspires poems, songs, and more operas than you could possibly believe.</li><li>The Stormwind Church convinces the king to pass the Unity of All Subjects, which declares the Ralmanni to have the same rights (and obligations) as Arathi subjects. Though it looks good on paper, it has relatively little effect on the lives of most Ralmanni.</li><li>Hostilities resume in Hillsbrad as Lordaeron attempts to secure the southern shore.</li></ul><br /><b>500 - 400 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Lordaeron convinces Gilneas to stay out of the conflict, promising the kingdom that the decline of Kul Tiras' naval power will benefit Gilneas.</li><li>A brilliant Lordaeronian general, Todaeus Durnholde, brings his forces into eastern Hillsbrad. However, the king's earlier aim of weakening Lordaeron's nobility left a gap in his fighting forces. This, combined with the kingdom's financial difficulties, means that they are unable to sustain the attack. General Durnholde is forced to retreat, though Lordaeron is able to secure Southshore.</li><li>Though the Southshore Rule was fulfilled, Kul Tiras still had a large and battle-hardened fleet, which prevented Southshore from ever becoming more than a fishing village. Lordaeron then fell into a period of stagnation due to a lack of funds. Fortunately, the nobles were too dulled by easy entertainment to make any attempt at a comeback.</li><li>Seeing Gilneas as a potential threat, Kul Tiras launches an attack. They cut the Gilnean navy to ribbons and landed large numbers of troops. However, the peninsular campaign devolved into a grueling battle of attrition that the Tirasi were forced to abandon.</li><li>Kul Tiras' defeat leads to a crisis of leadership, and the island erupts into a violent three-way civil war. One of the factions, led by House Waycrest in Drustvar, proclaims affiliation with the Holy Light.</li></ul><br /><b>400 - 300 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Kul Tiras' internal problems initially seem a good opportunity for Lordaeron to secure a monopoly over dwarven trade. However, the Gilneans and Stromgarders block them at every opportunity.</li><li>Gilneas, Lordaeron, and Stromgarde each back a faction in the Tirasi Civil War.</li><li>Stormwind's king passes the Free Travel Act. This gives commoners the right to travel wherever they please within the realm, freeing them from the last vestiges of bondage to feudal lords. Doing so makes it easier for the kingdom to consolidate its hold on the sparsely populated land.</li><li>Still finding the trade routes to Khaz Modan blocked, Lordaeronian shipping companies decide to go around the Kul Tiras mess instead of through it. Faster sailing vessels are made, and launch off from the northern coast and go directly to Khaz Modan's western shores.</li><li>Lordaeron backs out of the Tirasi Civil War. The faction they supported, House Waycrest, is able to survive pledging its loyalty to House Proudmoore of Tiragarde Sound.</li><li>Alterac's Starrok Dynasty ends with the death (possibly by poison) of Lord Vendel Starrok. The Golden Circle, a kind of electoral council of nobles, squabbles over who should take control of the depleted kingdom. House Perenolde, a minor noble lineage, eventually takes control.</li><li>Lord Dastan Perenolde tries to improve Alterac's situation, but is unable to get enough support from the nobility. Construction on the capital continues despite his best efforts. Knowing there's no way for Alterac to effectively compete with its neighbors, he searches for alternative methods that others might find underhanded.</li><li>Stormwind begins to colonize the Swamp of Sorrows. Speculators promise untold wealth in spices and trollish gold, but the reality falls far short. The resulting economic bubble plunges Stormwind into a depression, and damages its burgeoning middle class.</li><li>A defrocked Lordaeronian priest, named Nosian, preaches a new doctrine of license in eastern Lordaeron. He attracts a motley following of dissipated nobles, bored youths, and the desperate. Initially relatively harmless, Nosian declared that all those who did not believe had to die, his rationale being that all non-Nosicae were unhappy and thus hindered humanity's progress towards the Holy Light. The Nosicae sect was put down by force, and remains the only time that the Lordaeronian church used violence to suppress a heretical sect. This created a precedent for the normally pacifistic church's creation of the Order of the Silver Hand many centuries later. Some of Nosian's writings would also fall into the hands of the Twilight's Hammer Clan.</li><li>Bandit activity increases throughout the continent, particularly the regions of Hillsbrad still ruled by Stromgarde. This is actually the Perenolde Dynasty's attempt to secure desperately needed funds.</li></ul><br /><b>300 - 200 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Lordaeron's new trading fleet also makes exchanges with Stormwind. The friendship between the two kingdoms means that Stormwind is allowed to copy this ship-building technology. In addition to their already thriving trade with Khaz Modan, Stormwinder merchants also begin limited trade with the goblins.</li><li>A fire started by a maddened knight burns down much of Kharazan town, starting its slow decline and eventual abandonment. The Swamp of Sorrows is never fully colonized.</li><li>The Tirasi Civil War comes to an end. The Gilnean faction, House Deepstone, emerges as the victor. The most conservative of the Houses, Deepstone zealously supports the Cult of the Tidemother. However, the Holy Light is too widespread for the newly empowered tidesages to eliminate. The fact that Stormsong is so obviously a Gilnean puppet further erodes the popularity of the old faith.</li><li>Missionaries arrive in Northrend, preaching to the Kirovi. They find many converts, and the wooden city of Sanktagrad is built on the coast of the Grizzly Hills.</li><li>The War of the Three Hammers shakes Khaz Modan to its very foundations. Stormwind gives military aid to the Bronzebeards, while Stromgarde ends up financially supporting the Wildhammers. Stromgarde had long seen the dwarves' willingness to trade with Lordaeron and Kul Tiras as a kind of betrayal, and associated the Bronzebeards with the status quo (the dwarves, for their part, were baffled by this attitude).</li><li>The War of the Three Hammers ends with a Bronzebeard victory.</li><li>Hurt by backing the wrong side, Stromgarde's ruling stewards must work to consolidate their control. Civil war is avoided, but the Steward's power is reduced. The Steward's decisions must be reviewed by a council of military leaders and sages. The position of Steward is also made open to any warrior of sufficient rank, rather than just nobles. Despite this, nobles continue to fill the position for some time to come.</li><li>Bandits under Alterac's employ seize the Stromgarder frontier town of Strahnbrad. Due to the town's remote location and the harsh weather, Stromgarde cannot immediately respond. Alterac cites the bandit presence as a threat to its territory, and Alteracine forces seize Strahnbrad. Alterac's government likely hoped that the new Stromgarder government would be too disorganized to rally a counterattack.</li><li>Alterac was wrong. Disciplined Stromgarder troops move quickly through the frozen mountain passes and retake Strahnbrad, completely routing the Alteracine defenders. Another Stromgarder column makes a punitive raid on the Alteracine Uplands, devastating the country's breadbasket. Alterac sues for peace and is forced to pay tribute.</li><li>While other nations scoff at Stromgarde's victory over a basket-case like Alterac, generals around the world pay attention to the well-executed strategy. This leads to a new doctrine in warfare that emphasizes mobility, one that will serve humanity well in the Second and Third Wars.</li><li>The printing press, a gnomish invention, spreads to human lands. This changes everything.</li></ul><br /><b>200 - 100 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Dalaran begins to relax its tight-fisted control of magic. More students from other kingdoms are allowed to study under the Kirin Tor.</li><li>As books become more common, more people learn how to read. What was once limited to histories and religious texts grows to include secular novels, satires, and political tracts.</li><li>Lordaeron institutes the first true state army.</li><li>Lordaeronians living on the border with Quel'thalas become increasingly angry at the luxurious lifestyles of the elves. They wonder why they can't enjoy the same benefits. Improved knowledge and education turned the once inscrutable Quel'dorei into something more understandable. A traveling preacher, Ereil Collister, uses this inequity as a platform to demand reform, and accuses Dalaran of secretly controlling Lordaeron. His charisma, combined with the printing press, results in the first popular conspiracy theory.</li><li>Kul Tiras initiates persecution of the Holy Light. The other human kingdoms immediately embargo Kul Tiras, leading to economic catastrophe within the kingdom. The violent ritual drowning of priests leads to violent rebellion.</li><li>Gilneas begins to export some of its natural resources. Still something of a cultural backwater, these fundamentally extractive institutions enrich the nobles but fail to spread the wealth. Though a middle class of sorts develops, it is no more than an example of aristocratic patronage.</li><li>Alterac is no longer required to pay tribute to Stromgarde. It again reaches out to bandits as a means of interfering in other countries and gathering intelligence. Some of these brigands even exploit the situation in Kul Tiras, and Alterac sees a profit for the first time in centuries.</li><li>Ereil Collister seizes control of Stratholme. Lordaeronian troops quickly retake the city and suppress Collister's supporters. Collister himself flees to Stromgarde, where he dies in a house fire a few years later. Though resentment against the elves remains, Lordaeronian living standards gradually inch closer towards those levels enjoyed by the elves, and without the side-effect of arcane addiction.</li><li>Dissemination of printing technology creates a nationalist impulse. Because more people can read, it enables the creation of a national identity beyond that of loyalty to a lord or monarch. This becomes particularly evident in Kul Tiras.</li><li>Citing the right of all peoples to be ruled by their own kings (while conveniently ignoring Dromascoi demands for the same), Lordaeron aids Tirasi rebels in their fight against Gilneas. Lordaeron even goes so far as to make strikes into Gilnean territory.</li><li>Tirasi rebels unite under the figure of Lady Olivia Proudmoore. Though she follows the Cult of the Tidemother, she tolerates the Holy Light and goes so far as to attend several well-publicized church services. This rallies the embattled Light-worshippers to her side.</li><li>Seeing Lordaeron distracted by Kul Tiras, Stromgarde launches an attack on Southshore. They are joined by Alterac.</li><li>Tirasi rebels push the Gilnean occupiers off the island. Olivia Proudmoore destroys House Stonedeep, and their holdings are given to House Stormsong (a pro-tidesage faction that had nonetheless sided with the Proudmoores). Though many in Kul Tiras fear that they are repeating the Gilneas situation, Lordaeron encourages Kul Tiras to maintain its monopoly on regional short-range trade. After all, Lordaeron can already reach Khaz Modan just fine.</li><li>Gilneas backs out of the conflict. Lordaeron's attack, combined with the Tirasi rebellion (seen as a betrayal) and Kul Tiras' earlier invasion create a paranoid fortress mindset in Gilneas' rulers.</li><li>Lordaeron begins to apply pressure on the Hinterlands, a Stromgarder holding. Stromgarde knows it cannot hold both Hillsbrad and the Hinterlands, and realizes that Hillsbrad is far more valuable. As such, they present the Hinterlands as a gift to Clan Wildhammer. The Wildhammer dwarves settle in the region, and Lordaeron backs off, not wanting to start another conflict.</li><li>Though many believe that the Holy Light will become the dominant religion in Kul Tiras, many still follow the old ways. Those who do find themselves facing increasing censure and hostility.</li><li>Religious tensions continue to wrack Kul Tiras. Lord Admiral Maeron Proudmoore, the son of Olivia, increases the level of social mobility within the navy and merchant marine. His rationale is to give the average Kul Tiran more of a stake in the sea (and thus, by extension, the Cult of the Tidemother). This works to an extent. What actually occurs is an increasing syncretism between the Holy Light and the Cult of the Tidemother, with the latter rejecting human sacrifice and doing more to help the common person.</li></ul><br /><b>100 - 0 BDP</b><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Litta Manafusil, a gnome, discovers the technique of enchantment. This, to a degree, allows commoners to utilize and benefit from arcane items without being dependent on a magocratic elite. Through the printing press, her discoveries end up in common workshops all around the world, perhaps providing the single biggest jump in living standard the world had ever seen.</li><li>War continues to rage in Hillsbrad. The Bronzebeard Clan and Gnomeregan provide some aid to Lordaeron and Kul Tiras, as Stromgarde is no longer seen as reliable. Alterac casts its lot in with Lordaeron, mostly to hurt Stromgarde.</li><li>Lord Admiral Everon Proudmoore proclaims the Edict of Toleration, which promises religious freedom to all Tirasi. He does this to ease the conflict between the Holy Light and the Cult of the Tidemother.</li><li>The Guild Riots erupt in Dalaran, as the Kirin Tor attempts to shut down enchantment. However, popular pressure forces the Kirin Tor to back down, and they agree to allow enchantment so long as it follows a few restrictions.</li><li>Lordaeron, which encourages enchantment within its borders, begins fielding troops with arcane weapons. Stromgarde's restrictions on enchantment end up hurting it, and they are eventually driven back to Thoradin's Wall.</li><li>Dennauser Trollbane is elected to be Steward of Stromgarde. This is notable as the Trollbane family, though ennobled by Dennauser's position, is itself of humble origins.</li><li>In Northrend, the Kirovi warlord Nevaksander leads the Hero's Concord (a loose alliance between Kirovi, taunka, tuskarr, and a few wolvars) against the magnataurs. The magnataurs are forever scattered after Nevaksander's triumph at the Battle of Bloody Snow. However, Nevaksander is unable to secure the loyalty of non-humans. He builds a new capital at Paskaron (present day Wintergarde), and Kirovar becomes the unofficial 8th human kingdom.</li><li>Culture across the human kingdoms flowers as more people get access to the means of production. Stormwind, Stromgarde, Dalaran, and Lordaeron institute mandatory basic education for all citizens. Lordaeron also officially liberates serfs (though in practice, serfs had already been free for some time).</li><li>Dalaran opens its gates, making it a relatively simple matter for even middle class (or sometimes poor) people to get a first-rate magical education.</li><li>Gunpowder is developed by Khaz Modan. Anxious about Lordaeron's near-hegemony, the dwarves keep it to themselves. They eventually share it with Gilneas, though this turns out to offer no real benefits for the dwarves.</li><li>The Dark Portal opens.</li></ul>Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-50993483706729540282020-05-02T22:48:00.002-07:002020-05-02T22:48:55.058-07:00The Island War<b>After Legionfall</b><br /><br />The people of Azeroth sacrificed much to defeat Sargeras, but their victory was final. With Sargeras imprisoned in the Seat of the Pantheon and his lieutenant Kil'jaeden utterly destroyed, the Horde and Alliance had seemingly accomplished the impossible. Though trillions of demons remained, the lack of any organizing or unifying force meant that they'd inevitably turn their fury on each other, and not on the rest of the cosmos.<br /><br />The Alliance lost more troops than did the Horde at the Broken Shore. Despite that, the Alliance retained its position as Azeroth's hegemonic power. Still reeling from the losses of the Fourth War, the Horde could only bide its time under Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner.<br /><br />The reasons for Vol'jin choosing Sylvanas remain obscure. Many in the Horde suspected a conspiracy. While the Banshee Queen ruled Lordaeron with absolute ruthlessness, she took a hands-off approach to the other Horde powers, allowing their leaders considerable leeway in managing their affairs. Though not especially popular outside of the Forsaken, she did not earn the ire of other races the way Garrosh had. As months turned to years under her rule, most in the Horde came to accept her rule.<br /><br />The leyline sprawl covering much of the Eastern Kingdoms allowed for tremendous innovations in both magic and technology. Electricity became the norm throughout much of the Alliance (the Kaldorei being an obvious exception). Kalimdor's smaller number of leylines made development more difficult, forcing the Horde to rely on coal. The Bilgewater Cartel sought to corner the Horde's coal market, though the warchief intervened to ensure that the orcs and trolls also got access to the substance.<br /><br />Not all welcomed such development. In the Horde, the tauren could only watch helplessly as orcs, trolls, and goblins spread across Kalimdor. The Kaldorei also grew suspicious of the Alliance's increasing dependence upon the arcane.<br /><br /><b>Zandalar and Kul Tiras</b><br /><br />Two great nations had largely sat out the chaos of Legionfall: Zandalar and Kul Tiras.<br /><br />Time's inevitable decay had left once-mighty Zandalar a shell of its former self. Most trolls outside saw them as heartless judges who'd allowed Zul'drak to self-destruct and had done nothing to help the forest and jungle tribes. Their failed intervention in Pandaria revealed the weaknesses of their archaic army. Though still the first in the eyes of the Loa pantheon, the Darkspear had surpassed them in most other areas.<br /><br />Though Darza'alor remained, sprawling and gold-gilded, much of the rest of Zandalar fell into decay. The effects of the Cataclysm rendered much of Vol'drun uninhabitable, forcing the Zandalari to abandon their extensive cities in that place. Attempts to pacify Nazmir cost Zandalar dearly in blood and treasure. The ancient trollish civilization appeared to be on its last legs.<br /><br />Kul Tiras fared better but faced its own troubles. They had broken with the Alliance after Jaina turned on her father, Lord Admiral Proudmoore, and this decision had cost them. Making matters worse was their refusal to rejoin the Alliance during the Fourth War. Though Kul Tiran corsairs had harried Horde shipping lines, their contribution amounted to little.The Alliance never totally forgave Kul Tiras for not returning to the fold.<br /><br />Kul Tiras's limited action during Legionfall only worsened matters, and in a surprisingly vindictive move, several Alliance nations imposed high taxes on Kul Tiran traders seeking to do business. As the Alliance dominated most non-Horde markets, many of the wealthy Kul Tiran merchant families found their coffers dwindling by the day. Worse, the Kul Tiran fleet failed to modernize and continued to rely on hopelessly obsolete sailing vessels.<br /><br /><b>The Discovery of Azerite</b><br /><br />Bilgwater prospectors stumbled upon azerite six years after Legionfall. This miracle substance promised to speed up economic development in the still impoverished Horde. Even better, a fair amount of azerite could be found within (or at least near) Horde lands. Though the tauren shunned the stuff, other Horde races embraced it. The first azerite power plant went online in Orgrimmar, providing the city with months of power before the first blackout (blackouts had been endemic with the old coal plant). The Alliance didn't use azerite as heavily. Given that the Alliance already possessed numerous leylines and had a better power/transportation grid, there didn't seem much need.<br /><br />Yet it was the Alliance that discovered that azerite could be used as a weapon of war. Alliance leaders soon wondered if the Horde was hoarding azerite for malign purposes. Almost overnight, the Alliance sent troops to seize unsecured azerite deposits around the world, including those that had been operated by the Horde (though outside of Horde territory proper).<br /><br />Many in the Horde called for war. Yet Sylvanas took a more patient approach and simply asked what the Horde had done to so offend the Alliance. Ultimately, the Alliance had no justification beyond suspicion. Shocked by Alliance aggression, neutral states became more sympathetic to the Horde.<br /><br />King Rastakhan of Zandalar hired Darkspear engineers to prospect for azerite in Zandalari lands. To their surprise, the ancient islands were full of the stuff. Seeing an opportunity for much needed income, King Rastakhan authorized Horde usage of Zandalari azerite deposits in return for Horde development expertise.<br /><br />Kul Tiras also possessed numerous azerite deposits. The Kul Tirans, however, despised the Horde and would not trade with them. Instead, Kul Tiran traders began smuggling azerite weapons to Gilnean partisans, who champed at the bit to avenge the losses of the Fourth War. The Gilneans first struck at orcish settlements in the Northern Barrens, destroying dozens of farming and ranching settlements (though they hated the Forsaken most, it is believed that they did not want to risk losing Gilneas again, and thus attacked a more distant target).<br /><br />The orcs demanded blood but Sylvanas held them back. Nonetheless, she warned the Alliance to keep better control of its people. She cited Genn's actions at Stormheim, suggesting again that the Alliance was a danger to all nations not a part of it.<br /><br />King Anduin pressured Genn Graymane to disavow the partisans, but he refused. While Tyrande condemned the attacks publicly, she privately sympathized with the Gilnean partisans and ordered the Kaldorei sentinels to leave them be.<br /><br />As war grew more likely, both the Horde and the Alliance began development on terrifying new azerite weapons able to wipe cities off the map and poison the land for centuries. The uneasy peace frayed. Travel and trade between the Horde and Alliance drew to a standstill.<br /><br /><b>Things Always Get Worse</b><br /><br />The wealth of azerite deposits on the islands of the Great Sea drew the attention of both Zandalar and Kul Tiras. Prospecting teams staked claims and sometimes fought pitched battles on the myriad islands. Though war was never formally declared, the two nations were engaged in a conflict that mirrored the larger one between the Horde and Alliance.<br /><br />Zandalari Princess Talanji knew the risks of travel when she embarked on a diplomatic mission to Orgrimmar, seeking to ensure that the Horde honored is promise to help the Zandalari people. Though she prepared well, Kul Tiran privateers intercepted her boat and took her prisoner.<br /><br />Zandalar demanded war. King Rastakhan begged the Horde to free his daughter from Kul Tiran captivity. Sylvanas agreed. Kul Tiras was diplomatically isolated, and the Alliance would not yet consider an attack on Kul Tiras to be an attack on them. She thus sent a team of specialists who successfully exfiltrated the princess out of Boralus. The break both terrified and mobilized the Kul Tiran people. Fighting Zandalar was one thing, but many feared they'd soon face the wrath of the Horde.<br /><br />The Alliance decided this fear would make the Kul Tirans more compliant, and extended an offer of aid. In return for access to Kul Tiran azerite, the Alliance would offer military advice, upgrade the fleet, and potentially offer full membership in within the Alliance itself. Kul Tiras agreed.<br /><br />Yet despite this, the Kul Tirans arrested Jaina Proudmoore upon her arrival. Jaina was so hated by the people that the authorities had no choice. This obviously jeopardized the deal, but Jaina urged the Alliance to prioritize the deal over her freedom.<br /><br /><b>The Battle for Azeroth</b><br /><br />Tensions worsened over the next year as the aging Zandalari and Kul Tiran fleets dueled and postured amidst the islands of the Great Sea. Zandalar gradually reasserted its authority over regions outside of Zuldazar, while Kul Tiras pushed back against the malign influence of pirates and corrupt merchant houses.<br /><br />Meanwhile, the Horde and the Alliance continued stocking up on azerite weapons. The Horde was at a disadvantage here as they required azerite to power their cities. Despite their best efforts, the Alliance simply possessed a bigger arsenal. Yet the Horde eventually constructed enough to guarantee near-total destruction of Alliance lands in event of a full-fledged conflict, which they hoped would act as a deterrence.<br /><br />The massacre at the Kul Tiran town of Brennadam threw the increasingly delicate situation out of balance. It is known that Brennadam was attacked and razed by a small army consisting mostly of orcs, ogres, and goblins. The Kul Tiran forces responded quickly and routed the invaders, and immediately assumed the Horde was responsible.<br /><br />The Horde denied all knowledge. And indeed, it was eventually found that the attackers had no association with the Horde. They were pirates, and did in fact count some humans and dwarves among their number. Yet lies outpace the truth, and much of the populations in Kul Tiras and the Alliance were convinced that the Horde was behind the attack.<br /><br />Anduin Wrynn and Moira Bronzebeard both urged caution. They accepted the findings that stated the attacks were from pirates. A war with the Horde would only end in ruin. However, Kul Tiras demanded blood. Pressured by Lady Ashvane, Lord Admiral Katarina Proudmoore declared war on Zandalar. The pirates had, in fact, used a remote portion of Nazmir's coast as a staging ground. Proudmoore's rationale was that Zandalar's decrepit state posed a risk to Kul Tiras.<br /><br />The Horde and Alliance could only watch in shock as their proxies waged open war on the High Seas. This conflict had a grimly comic tone, as both Zandalar and Kul Tiras possessed badly out-of-date navies. The Kul Tiran fleet was more current than the Zandalari one, however, and Tiran forces sailed ever closer to Zuldazar.<br /><br />Zandalar now demanded that the Horde enter the fray. In Kul Tiras, Jaina had acquitted herself through her own heroism in helping partisans clean house but remained outside of the Kul Tiran command structure. As a member of the Alliance, too much direct involvement on her part would certainly bring the Alliance into the war.<br /><br />The Horde and Alliance deepened their involvement in the so-called Island War, sending military advisors and elite troops to aid the conflict.<br /><br /><b>Reactions to the Island War</b><br /><br />The Island War proved deeply unpopular in the Alliance. Many felt that their leaders were allowing greed and short-sightedness to pull them into a potentially apocalyptic war. While the Brennadam Massacre had sparked some sympathy with Kul Tiras, the sentiment was relatively short-lived. Stormwind alone showed real enthusiasm for the conflict.<br /><br />Gilneas and Darnassus had mixed feelings. While they wished to avenge their losses in the Fourth War, both Genn and Tyrande were well-aware that an azerite exchange would mean the ruin of their nations. This put Genn in a particularly awkward position. He'd earlier supported Gilnean partisans in their efforts against the Horde. Now that such efforts could well trigger doomsday, he tried to pull back but with only limited success. Neither Gilneas nor Darnassus particularly cared about Kul Tiras.<br /><br />The Horde largely supported the Island War. Many saw it as a way to make up for the failures of the Fourth War. The fact that they were ostensibly doing this to challenge overweening Alliance power and to help out an ancient culture also soothed those who feared staining their honor in an unjust war.<br /><br />The Darkspear Tribe was especially engaged due to its connections with Zandalar. Secretly, the Darkspear elected to do everything possible to prevent Zandalar from formally joining the Horde. Zandalar as a Horde member nation would put the Zandalari under the control of the warchief. However, if Zandalar remained independent, they'd be under the influence of the Darkspear Tribe alone.<br /><br />Only the tauren expressed real opposition to the war. Many no longer felt that the Horde cared about the needs of the Shu'halo, and they despised seeing the Horde sully its hands in the pursuit of azerite.<br /><br /><b>Blood on the Water</b><br /><br />The Island War dragged on to its second year. Small numbers of Horde and Alliance forces fought each other throughout Zandalar, Kul Tiras, and the surrounding islands.<br /><br />During this time, Kul Tiras upgraded its archaic navy. Happily for the Kul Tirans, their tidesages' special connection with the wind and the waves still proved useful for bolstering the speeds of modern ships. The Kul Tirans proved quick learners and inched ever close toward regional naval supremacy. Lady Jaina Proudmoore helped spearhead these advances, which improved her reputation in Kul Tiras.<br /><br />Zandalar, in the meantime, saw consolidation but little in the way of military improvement. King Rastakhan was apparently aware that his armed forces were not strong enough to defeat Kul Tiras. Worse, the divine mandate behind his rule meant that any military defeat risked rendering his dynasty illegitimate in the eyes of the priests. He begged the Horde to send more aid, which largely came in the form of partisans.<br /><br />When the Kul Tirans attacked in force toward the end of the year, the results were catastrophic for the Zandalari. The Tiran fleet cut through the ships of the Zandalari armada and attacked Darza'alor itself. Two factors saved the city from destruction. First, King Rastakhan sacrificed himself to ensure divine aid from the Loa, which bolstered the aging defenses. Second, the Horde partisans proved to be worthy soldiers.<br /><br />Rastakhan's self-sacrifice ensured legitimacy for the reign of his daughter, Queen Talanji. Despite the shock, the attack on Zuldazar served to rally the Zandalari. Once distrustful of the Horde, the Zandalari forces now eagerly worked with Horde engineers and generals to improve their forces. The first god-ship, a battleship powered by modern technology and protected by a minor Loa, became operational at the end of the year.<br /><br />The first months of the war's third year saw the Zandalari push back on the Kul Tiran advance. The Kul Tirans still held the advantage but the disparity between Kul Tiran and Zandalari forces shrank by the day.<br /><br /><b>Kul Tiras Rises</b><br /><br />It was then that Lady Jaina Proudmoore formally renounced her membership in the Alliance and declared sole allegiance to Kul Tiras. Almost immediately after, she secured the azerite deposits within Kul Tiras and decreed that the Kul Tirans would have exclusive use of them.<br /><br />Already partially rehabilitated thanks to her actions in Island War, this act transformed her into a living saint in Tiran eyes. She called on contacts in Dalaran and the Theramore diaspora to help develop azerite weapons, five of which were completed by midsummer.<br /><br />The Alliance roiled in confusion. King Anduin of Stormwind was troubled by Jaina's impetuousness, but saw that it was wrong for the Alliance to prohibit a non-Alliance state from using their own azerite. The leaders of Gilneas, Stromgarde, and Kirovar proclaimed their support for Jaina, and agitated for permission to create their own azerite arsenals.<br /><br />Other Alliance leaders were less sympathetic. The night elves and draenei both warned about the dangers of arms buildup. Queen Moira Bronzebeard was furious at Jaina for destabilizing the situation and challenging Alliance power. In response, the Khaz Modan Senate withdrew much of its financial support for Kul Tiras. This was a serious matter, as the Kul Tiran military still relied on dwarven gold to support the new expenses.<br /><br />It now seemed that Kul Tiras had a time limit on the Island War. However, they also had enough azerite weapons to destroy Zandalar (which lacked azerite weapons of its own) if they so chose. The only question was whether or not the Horde would retaliate.<br /><br /><b>Sylvanas's Plot and Saurfang's Rebellion</b><br /><br />No one can be sure exactly why Warchief Sylvanas chose to summon the Old God N'Zoth. Some say it was the inevitable result of undeath's self-destructive tendencies, but her own rational attempts toward self-preservation belie this. Sylvanas kept her plans regarding N'Zoth a secret to all but herself and a few trusted confidants.<br /><br />During this time, the Horde general Varok Saurfang had been advising Zandalari forces in their war against Kul Tiras. An old soldier whose service stretched back to the First War, Saurfang detested the existence of azerite weapons. He feared that the threat of total destruction would make it impossible for the orcs to ever again wage honorable war. Saurfang dreamed of becoming warchief and returning the Horde to what he saw as its glorious roots. However, while he would have eagerly dismantled the Horde's azerite arsenal, he could not figure out what to do about the Alliance's.<br /><br />Somehow, he discovered the nature of Sylvanas's plan. He immediately abandoned his post and went underground, contacting allies and working to subvert Sylvanas. Saurfang even rallied Thrall, who'd retreated to self-imposed exile in Nagrand. Informed of Azeroth's troubles by a messenger loyal to Saurfang, the aged shaman agreed to make the arduous journey back to his homeworld. Thrall agreed to help, and promised to support Saurfang as warchief (there are rumors that Thrall was somehow coerced).<br /><br />The Island War continued to grind on. The lack of strong dwarven financial support had hurt Kul Tiras more than than anticipated, and the maritime nation found itself on the defensive. The closer the Zandalari got to Boralus, the more the demand rose for Kul Tiras to launch its arsenal and wipe the Zandalari from the face of Azeroth.<br /><br /><b>Rising Tension</b><br /><br />Jaina kept a cool head, strongly suspecting that the Horde would see an azerite strike against an ally as an act of war. Yet the Kul Tiran fleet, emboldened by its newfound power, put immense pressure on her to authorize just such an attack.<br /><br />As rhetoric grew more heated, Queen Talanji requested that Warchief Sylvanas make Zandalar a protectorate. Talanji did not wish for Zandalar to possess azerite weapons, as both she and the priesthood saw them as religiously suspect for holding power that should be reserved for the gods. However, Sylvanas promised she would honor Talanji's request so long as Zandalar pursued its own azerite weapon program, which Horde scientists would build.<br /><br />Talanji was immediately suspicious. Given that the warchief insisted on total personal control over the Horde's azerite arsenal, why would she demand that a protectorate build its own azerite weapons? She refused, but when the Zanchuli Council found out about the offer, they called on divine advice and then said that the Loa insisted on the deal. Under these pressures, Talanji conceded.<br /><br />Zandalar soon possessed an azerite weapon. Part of the bargain was that the Zandalari test their first azerite bomb. Detonating a weapon anywhere near the holy island of Zandalar was unthinkable, so Sylvanas had chosen a safe area of the Great Sea, one unclaimed by any state and largely shunned by the spirits of the ocean.<br /><br />A purchased goblin sub soon set off from Zuldazar, seeking to test this newest destructive device in the midst of the Great Sea. Unbeknownst to all but Sylvanas and her circle, the test site was directly above the lost naga city of Nazjatar.<br /><br />The bomb detonated as planned. And moments later, the sea itself split open to reveal the festering hell of Nazjatar and the monstrous Old God lying beneath its mottled surface.<br /><br /><b>The Eve of Destruction</b><br /><br />Radio ensured that every corner of the world soon knew of Nazjatar's emergence. Horde and Alliance ships set out to investigate, and scores were destroyed in the confused fighting and the treacherous currents around the great crevasses that had split the skin of the sea.<br /><br />Alliance intelligence had long known of the connection between Azshara and N'Zoth, and scouts confirmed that she seemed to be summoning the eldritch entity. The event was immediately declared an emergency and Stormwind prepared to launch an azerite strike against Nazjatar. In response, Warchief Sylvanas announced that due to the presence of the Horde navy near Nazjatar, any such strike would be considered an act of war from the Alliance, and would be met with the entirety of the Horde's azerite arsenal.<br /><br />The Alliance leaders hesitated. If they struck, they would initiate a global war that would end in hours and leave civilization in ruins. If they refrained, N'Zoth would corrupt or destroy all life on Azeroth.<br /><br />Three key events occurred at this time:<br /><br />1. A team of Alliance partisans broke into Nazjatar's Eternal Palace. It was a desperate attempt to defeat Queen Azshara before she could summon N'Zoth. Their hope was to make the azerite strike unnecessary, and to thus save Azeroth.<br /><br />2. Thrall appeared in Orgrimmar's Valley of Strength. Aided by members of the resistance he produced documents and confessions that proved Sylvanas's malfeasance. Orgrimmar erupted and proclaimed Sylvanas's reign to be over. Radio spread the revolution to the Echo Isles, Zuldazar, Thunder Bluff, Bilgewater Harbor, Silvermoon City, Thunder Totem, and Suramar. Enraged, the peoples of the Kalimdor Horde rushed out to seize the launching sites of azerite weapons, and in so doing deny them to Sylvanas.<br /><br />3. General Saurfang had spent the last month secretly working with Gilneas so as to be smuggled into Tirisfal Glades. There, he made contact with the last surviving remnants of the Forsaken resistance, who informed him as to the location of the subterranean bunker where Sylvanas orchestrated the apocalypse. Gathering his entourage, Saurfang led the charge into Sylvanas's lair.<br /><br />The results are as follows:<br /><br />As soon as Sylvanas became aware of the chaos quickly spreading through Kalimdor, she attempted to launch azerite weapons at the major population centers there. However, Thrall and the other Horde shamans had called on the spirits of air and wind to foul her signals, while goblin and troll sorcerers disrupted her arcane connections. The weapons failed to launch. A few days later, and the entirety of the azerite arsenal in Kalimdor and the Broken Isles now lay in the hands of the coup (no azerite weapons were located in Sin'thalas, but Silvermoon declared it would no longer follow Sylvanas).<br /><br />Sylvans still expected her plans would work so long as she possessed the launching sites in Lordaeron (the Horde's smaller number of azerite weapons meant she had to reserve the Lordaeronian launching sites for the upcoming conflict with the Alliance). Yet the Alliance partisans managed to defeat Queen Azshara before she could summon N'Zoth. The Alliance immediately called off the alert, saying that conventional forces would be sufficient to secure Nazjatar.<br /><br />Saurfang's team located and broke into Sylvanas's fortress. He challenged Sylvanas to a mak'gora, seeing in that the most glorious way to secure his reign as warchief. Instead, Sylvanas killed him. She and some of her supporters escaped through means unknown.<br /><br />Upon learning that Sylvanas had fled, Genn led Gilnean forces to carve a bloody swathe through Lordaeron. Gilnean troops murdered any Forsaken they found and left much of Undercity in ruins.<br /><br /><b>The World Abides</b><br /><br />As the dust clears, the people of Azeroth can only wonder what will happen next.<br /><br />The naga fell into chaos. Alliance forces have secured a few safe zones for surrendering naga but logistics make it impossible to help most of the undersea empire. It is now known that having seen the Horde and Alliance overcome both the Scourge and the Burning Legion, the ancient queen realized the naga did not stand a chance against them. She'd hoped to hide Nazjatar until azerite warfare weakened the surface-dwellers enough for her to wipe out the survivors.<div>
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The majority of the naga appear ready to die for their fallen empire. Disgusted by the surface races, many would sooner commit suicide than willingly seek shelter with humans or dwarves. A few do seek sanctuary, though the fact that all naga are to some degree complicit in their realm's crimes raises troubling ethical issues.<br /><br />Undersea kingdoms now rise and fall in the blink of an eye as groups of freed slaves try to assert dominion. No one can fill the power vacuum left by the naga. Some former slaves instead seek employment with the Steamwheedle Cartel, which has hired many. It is through their efforts that the cartel's first underwater city was built, a few miles off the shore of Kezan. However, the cartel remembers its financially disastrous attempt to trade with the elemental planes, and is unlikely to invest too heavily into the undersea realm.<br /><br />For now, the surface races can only wait to see what transpires beneath.<br /><br />Sylvanas left no clear chain of command, and the abuses committed under her reign (and Garrosh's) show beyond the shadow of a doubt that no individual can again be allowed to wield a warchief's power.<br /><br />Many of the Horde's member races ponder their own future. The United Tauren Tribes have long been frustrated with how the Horde neglected them and seek closer connections with the Kaldorei and the Exodar. Together, they seek a path different from the untrammeled arcane and technological development seen in the east.<br /><br />The Darkspear Tribe also wonders if it still needs the Horde. By securing the blessings of Zandalar, they have secured themselves as the inheritors of the old empire's mantle. The Zandalari themselves seem to understand that their actions (or lack thereof) during and after the Cataclysm have destroyed their credibility among the other tribes. Queen Talanji's involvement in the azerite weapons program (reluctant though it was) did hurt her reputation, but she was mostly able to weather the controversy. The program has since been dismantled though the Darkspear Tribe now possesses its own arsenal. Zandalar will instead seek to be an idealistic and aspirational power, reminding trolls of their honored place in the cosmos while also acting as a subtle counterbalance to the secular wealth and arms of the Darkspear Tribe.<br /><br />The orcs are left rudderless but still hopeful. Some think that Thrall should resume his mantle as warchief though he seems deeply reluctant. But the orcs can take solace in the fact that they did not repeat the mistakes of Garrosh, and seized control of the Horde before its power could be used for dishonorable ends.<br /><br />Sin'thalas is relieved to be rid of Sylvanas. With much of their efforts going toward reconnecting with their Nightborne and Quel'dorei kindred, the blood elves see little reason to oppose the Alliance. The bloodlines of their ancient houses matter far more than some short-lived political squabble, after all. The Ren'dorei pose a problem but are too few in number for the Sin'dorei to worry much about them.<br /><br />The Forsaken have been broken. The Gilneans killed thousands, civilian and soldier alike. The undead have been forced to realize that Sylvanas never cared for them. Currently, the remains of Undercity are in a state of chaos. The Alliance pushes for Calia Menethil to be instituted as the leader of the free dead despite her not being well-liked within Lordaeron. Some Forsaken seek a second Desolate Council, though most viable candidates bear some culpability for the old regime's crimes.<br /><br />Business continues as usual in the Bilgewater Cartel.<br /><br />The orcs and tauren both destroyed the azerite weapons they seized during the coup. The goblins and Darkspear trolls chose to appropriate the weapons for their own use.<br /><br />Even more uncertain is the future of the Horde as a whole. The faction is still recovering from the Fourth War. Actions of warchiefs like Sylvanas and Garrosh have gutted the people's faith in the office of warchief. It is possible that the Horde races will simply disband and become independent or members of the Alliance. Anduin has promised that their ways will be respected if they choose to join. Another possibility is that the Horde will congregate as a more decentralized power, no longer beholden to a single warchief. If it does, however, it'll be even more dependent on the Alliance than it was after the Fourth War and would be a client state in all but name.<br /><br />Kul Tiras emerged from the Island War battered but triumphant. Ushered into the Alliance proper almost immediately after the war's conclusion, Kul Tiras has transformed from a decaying kingdom into a major maritime power. Lord Admiral Jaina Proudmoore has escaped the shadow of her past, and surely ranks among Kul Tiras's greatest leaders.<br /><br />Gilnean forces soon retreated from Lordaeron. His attack was in direct contravention of Alliance policy but tremendously popular among the Gilnean people. Anticipating the Alliance's reaction to his campaign, King Genn Greymane immediately abdicated and was last seen on a ship headed toward Kalimdor, a grim smile on his face. It is widely believed that he's living comfortably among Gilneans in Ashenvale, and that Tyrande counts him as a friend. Under the new monarch, Gilneas remains part of the Alliance, one more liked in Kalimdor than in the Eastern Kingdoms.<br /><br />Both Stormwind and Khaz Modan are coming to terms with just how close the world came toward destruction. Though the Horde's fall is clearly to Azeroth's benefit, many acknowledge that the Alliance's own actions in Kul Tiras often worsened the situation. Embittered by Kul Tiras's azerite weapons program, Khaz Modan has become increasingly isolationist.<br /><br />The situation in Kalimdor remains murky. The night elves increasingly see the Alliance as repeating the sins of Queen Azshara by relying so heavily on arcane convenience. Tyrande alone did not attend the victory celebrations, publicly expressing bewilderment that human soldiers could see Nazjatar and still promote arcane development.<br /><br />Though the draenei are less concerned about the use of magic, they still wonder why the Alliance lavishes so much of its resources on extravagance and world-ending weapons while people go hungry in the streets. Prophet Velen now wonders if he was mistaken about humanity's potential, and thinks there may be more of the Most Holy Light in the tauren tribes than the human kingdoms.<br /><br />Pandaria is deeply troubled by the Horde's fall. It is clear that the balance they hoped for will not be possible, and they fear what might happen when Azeroth is ruled by a single world power. Others predict that balance will arrive, one way or another, and that the Alliance's victory has only sown the seeds of its eventual defeat.</div>
Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-81190304113282316702020-04-27T09:21:00.004-07:002020-04-27T09:21:58.713-07:00The Decline of the Naga EmpireRecent events have revealed the Naga Empire to not be the invincible undersea empire that so many had feared, but a twisted shell of a state kept alive only by Queen Azshara's desperation. This is not to downplay the very real threat that the Naga Empire had long posed to the surface races of Azeroth. Indeed, the Naga Empire counted as the mightiest nation on Azeroth for most of the last ten-thousand years. Yet time takes its toll on even the most powerful polities, and did not spare the naga.<br /><br />Queen Azshara's greatest advantage in the early days of the Naga Empire was the fact that everyone on the surface believed her to be dead. Azshara's guards and handmaidens worshiped her as a goddess, and still possessed much of the arcane and intellectual capital of the fallen Kaldorei Empire. But as the highest of the high in the old Kaldorei Empire, these survivors knew nothing of hardship. Utterly dependent on magic that soon warped their bodies into the modern naga form, they reeled from shock and fear at the changes to themselves and their surroundings. Their world had been destroyed. It is a testament to Queen Azshara's leadership that the naga survived the lean first centuries of their existence.<br /><br />With the idea of labor being anathema to them, the naga instead focused on enslaving others. Undersea sapients and animals were forcibly brought into the fold by physical force and, failing that, neurotoxins that compelled obedience. The world beneath the waves had been thrown into confusion after the Sundering and Queen Azshara found this an ideal state in which to spread her burgeoning empire. A thousand years later, the Naga Empire controlled almost all of Great Sea and faced no real competition.<br /><br />Seniority in naga ranks depended heavily on age—those who'd once been in Azshara's court received the greatest boons from their queen. The generations of naga born after the Sundering developed a culture that diverged somewhat from Azshara's. Consider Zin-Azshari, which still resembles the Kaldorei palace it once was, compared to the sharper and more organic-looking architecture in other naga cities. Despite this difference, all naga obeyed their queen.<br /><br />The Naga Empire spent most of its efforts on expansion and keeping control of its slaves. Slave revolts were frequent and bloody but the experienced naga forces put them down without mercy. Naga devoted themselves to war, arcane research, and administration. All other work was done by slaves. Azshara eventually prohibited art, since her own refined tastes clearly represented the perfection of the creative impulse. Singers, poets, shell mosaicists, and others would from that point on limit themselves to re-creating existing art, since nothing could improve upon the classics. Some of the early stylistic deviations pioneered by younger naga were preserved, though only if they could be justified in utilitarian terms. This explains why the other strands of naga architecture have survived to present day.<br /><br />Only the art of cruelty was permitted. With their slaves as canvases, the naga could experiment with new patterns of wounds and the forced tuning of particular nerves. The goal was always the same—dominance, abasement, and pain. It was blasphemy to change the physical form of the naga (which was perfect according to Azshara). The form of slaves, on the other hand, was acceptable to reshape. Great naga houses sought pain artists of particular refinement and creativity.<br /><br />Though the naga represented the biggest and best-trained fighting forced in the world, the logistical difficulty of an extended land campaign made it impractical for them to conquer the surface. While the naga could function quite well on land for a few days at a time, anything more would quickly exhaust and kill them. Further, the Naga Empire spent many of its resources monitoring slaves and quelling revolts.<br /><br />Those naga who pushed the frontiers of the empire (which now encircled Kalimdor and much of the Eastern Kingdoms) enjoyed slightly more freedom. Queen Azshara granted this simply because those naga at the edges could not rely on as much central support. The frontier also acted as a pressure valve for naga who violated one of the innumerable minor restrictions of their society but whose offenses were not sufficient to justify death. The Nazja compound word for these naga would take an entire page to write out; a direct translation is: Known-and-Esteemed-as-They-Who-Push-Aside-the-Slow-Currents-That-Must-Fall-Before-the-Eternal-Grace-of-Our-Queen-the-Deathless-and-Ever-Gloried-Azshara (we refer to them as "pathfinders"). Though still slavers, the pathfinders also traded with free underwater sapients and even some surface goblins. These naga represented one of the only dynamic aspects of the empire.<br /><br />The Naga Empire revealed itself to the surface world in the waning days of the Third War. Queen Azshara detected Archimonde's arrival and believed that the day of her vindication was at hand. She'd hoped the surface races would be in disarray and ripe for conquest. However, her scouting parties revealed that they were far more organized than she'd expected. Azshara quickly ordered a strategic retreat, though she did commit a small army to Illidan's forces in the Eastern Kingdoms. It is believed she'd hoped to use the Illidari as a way exert influence on the surface. However, Illidan's relocation to Outland rendered this less feasible, and she withdrew the bulk of her forces, leaving only a small number in the Betrayer's employ.<br /><br />Queen Azshara's long-term plan was to capture surface-dwellers and enslave them for use as slave soldiers. This would take time, but Azshara believed she had plenty of it. The surface armies would have an even harder time invading her undersea realm than the naga would have with the surface. Nature was Nazjatar's best defense. Some of her captives became test subjects for vile plagues developed by naga researchers. Azshara intended for these plagues to be used against the surface races in event of war.<br /><br />The Naga Empire weathered the Cataclysm relatively unscathed. Indeed, the event worked in their favor. The naga conducted hundreds of raiding parties in the confused months that followed, gathering slaves and experimental subjects from the world's coastlines. Many of these disappearances were blamed on the disasters of the Cataclysm and never properly investigated. The Faceless Ones reaffirmed Azshara's old (but largely ignored) alliance with N'Zoth, and the two forces cooperated closely.<br /><br />Disaster struck at Vashj'ir and the Abyssal Maw. Though the naga forces decimated the Horde and Alliance fleets above Vashj'ir they only did so thanks to surprise. Once the fleets rallied (bolstered by submersibles), the naga learned that their mighty sea creatures were no match for armored vehicles and modern cannons. The Battle of Vashj'ir was an utter rout for the naga forces. Only the quick thinking of their commander allowed the surviving naga to conduct their daring raid into the Abyssal Maw and successfully capture the elemental lord Neptulon. Even this proved no more than a temporary victory. Neptulon eventually escaped, and the naga forces were too few to establish a lasting beachhead on an elemental plane.<br /><br />The naga again withdrew. Azshara considered unleashing the plague prototypes she had, but feared that would just draw more surface attention. Worse was the fact that news of the defeat had spread, spurring multiple slave rebellions across the empire. The Naga Empire had never suffered a meaningful defeat since the Sundering. The innumerable murlocs, sea giants, makrura, and others who toiled in the slave ranks had done so for countless generations. The reality of naga rule was as undeniable as gravity. Yet Vashj'ir showed that the naga were not invincible. Enraged by the abuse they'd suffered and with very little to lose, the slaves threw themselves with great wrath upon their masters.<br /><br />Rebellions continued to spread. Now called the Unshackling, it represented the gradual dissolution of the Naga Empire. Ancient cities went dark and entire naga armies vanished in the ocean depths. A violent uprising wrecked Nazjatar's ancient galleries. Ever canny, Azshara devoted all of her efforts to regaining control. Through power and cruelty the rebellions were snuffed out, but she knew the Naga Empire was crippled and would be for centuries. Her only hope was to hide and wait for the surface-dwellers to destroy each other.Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-86324460633160780812020-04-26T14:36:00.001-07:002020-04-26T14:36:37.685-07:00Other Peoples of Pandaria<b>The Hozen</b><br /><br />The hozen often find themselves at the periphery of society. A physically robust, monkey-like race, the hozen are notable for having a particularly short lifespan: typically no more than 20 years.<br /><br />This puts the hozen in a tragic situation. Their short lifespans make it difficult or impossible to become true masters at any skill. It also affects their emotional development. Even an elderly hozen is likely to be impulsive, in the manner of a 20-year old human.<br /><br />The hozen are poorly integrated into mainstream Pandarian culture. Authorities prefer that the hozen stay in their own villages. The rationale is that when they are isolated, their impetuousness will only harm other hozen. Some of this is regional: hozen in the Valley of the Four Winds are far better integrated than their counterparts in the Jade Forest.<br /><br />The hozen are often frustrated by how poorly the pandaren understand them. What others call impetuousness, the hozen call passion. And indeed, how could they be anything but passionate? The short allotment of life granted to them means that each hozen needs to seize as much as they can. It's better to risk an already short life than to spend it in slumber.<br /><br />Everything in hozen society is designed to compensate for a short lifespan. Physical confrontations take less time than drawn out debates. But this doesn't mean that there's no hozen intellectual life. The hozen tend to be devotees of Woist philosophy.<br /><br />The hozen philosopher Joko put his own spin on Woism during the Hundred Years Sorrow. He took the bold stance of saying that balance was ultimately unknowable. There's no way to be sure if one is strengthening or weakening balance. To go back to the example of deer in a forest, it's entirely possible that their culling (whether by starvation, wolves, or hunters) would actually have other unforeseen effects that continue the imbalance (such as the wolves or hunters starving afterward).<br /><br />Thus, it is best not to worry. Joko thought it better to act within one's nature and to do it as passionately as possible. Joko was a poet who traveled the breadth of Pandaria twice in his short life, saying he wished only to grasp the whole wide world before he died. His short poems, which are often earthy and humorous, are still celebrated by hozen and pandaren alike.<br /><br />Hozen incorporate a wide variety of gestures while communicating. This is actually done in order to relay more information within a short space of time (it's extraordinarily difficult for outsiders to learn or properly comprehend). The character-based Pandaren script takes years and years to master, so the hozen have developed a simple phonetic alphabet (consonants only) in order to record their thoughts. Their writing system is brief, aggressive, and to the point. Sadly, this leads many pandaren scholars to dismiss hozen writing, since it contradicts the elliptical and flowery style preferred by most pandaren.<br /><br />Those hozen who live with the pandaren have managed to adapt reasonably well. Sometimes called village hozen, they usually focus on a particular type of labor and can become quite skilled in its commission. Hozen tend to be quick learners, compensating for their short lifespan. Village hozen rarely enter intellectual fields but this is not necessarily because they lack intelligence. Rather, the paucity of hozen in higher learning might be a function of how long it takes to master written Pandaren and the low esteem in which pandaren may hold them.<br /><br />Many have wondered why hozen emotionalism never triggered the Sha. It is believed that the negative emotions expressed by the hozen, while powerful, were too short-lived to give the malign entities much real sustenance. Long-simmering resentment did more to feed the Sha of Anger than did a burst of rage.<br /><br /><b>The Forest Hozen</b><br /><br />Though Chief Kah Kah's decision to join the Horde was based on a hostile encounter with the Alliance, he may have had ulterior motives. He knew that the hozen of Grookin Hill were doomed to forever be outsiders and that the refined pandaren of Jade Forest looked down on his people. The Horde was an unknown quantity, but some chances are worth taking.<br /><br />Currently, the Forest Hozen exist in a gray area of sovereignty. The Peace of Orgrimmar dictates that the Forest Hozen acknowledge Pandaria's suzerainty, but Chief Kah Kah still professes loyalty to the Horde's warchief. Vol'jin was silent on the matter, though Sylvanas extended informal recognition. Regardless, Grookin Hill is too distant for the weakened Horde to protect or extract tribute from. Jade Forest authorities claim that, because Grookin Hill shares in Pandaria's larger super-culture (itself a somewhat vague term), the Forest Hozen are a part of the country. However, no one in Pandaria has actually attempted to exert direct authority since that is contrary to pandaren governance.<br /><br />In short, nobody really knows to which group the Forest Hozen belongs, but they say they are Horde, so it is perhaps best to take their word for it. Interestingly, at least two hozen have become trained arcanists after studying with orc mages. The Orcish alphabet is phonetic, further evidence that the character-based script of written Pandaren, rather than writing itself, is a problem for the hozen.<br /><br /><b>The Jinyu</b><br /><br />It is known that the jinyu once ruled their own empire in the distant past, one that rivaled even the mighty mogu. The jinyu's uncanny ability to "read" a river—to collect impressions and knowledge gathered by the flowing waters—enabled them to know the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents well before battle began. Today, jinyu waterspeakers continue to glean secrets from the endless flow.<br /><br />Jinyu culture tends toward contemplation and deliberation. This is reflected in the caste-based structure of their society. Caste is assigned before birth. A jinyu mother will lay a clutch of eggs, which will then be fertilized by prospective fathers. The father's caste will determine the hatchling's caste. Jinyu men outnumber women in a five to one ratio. Women are excluded from the warrior caste due to their rarity but are full participants in all other castes (peasant, trader, crafter, and waterspeaker).<br /><br />Families are structured quite differently from those of other races. Hatchlings are cared for by their fathers. Multiple fathers will typically live with an older non-fertile woman who also participates in care taking. The biological mother typically has little direct interaction with her children.<br /><br />Interestingly, some jinyu are know to suffer from a culturally specific mental illness known as insoluble doubt. It most often affects high caste jinyu. This illness takes the form of obsessive uncertainty as to one's caste; the patient's fear is that their eggs were placed with the wrong clutch (which is rare, but known to happen—eggs of different castes cannot be visually distinguished from one another). Meditation seems to be the most effective cure for this.<br /><br />Renism has some adherents among the jinyu, but most prefer the works of their own philosopher, Susshem. Susshem was a waterspeaker who lived during the reign of the Liaogong Emperor. During this time, the jinyu caste system was strained to the point of breaking. The waterspeakers exerted great control over the lives of lower castes, leading to frustration and stagnation.<br /><br />Susshem, herself a waterspeaker, saw that this was unsustainable. Thus, she wrote <i>The Doctrine of Many Rivers</i>. Here, she argued in favor of the concept of fate, which she compared to a mighty river. The individual is carried along by fate, and cannot control their destination. However, the individual can move from side to side, and even change streams should the option arise.<br /><br />Her argument was that though fate cannot be denied. The current will always lead to the ocean (which is death). Until then, one still has choices available to them. One should not be prevented from free movement within one's river. Similarly, it is absurd to be jealous of someone traveling in a different river, because they are ultimately in the same position. They too are headed toward death, but also have the option to become better in the meantime.<br /><br />Her philosophy took ideas from Woism (Wo's fatalistic idea that everything returns to balance), and from Renism (cultivation of virtue through one's choices). Susshem's efforts gave greater flexibility to individual jinyu without threatening the actual caste system. Workers were less important than waterspeakers, but a worker who did their job well was still worthy of respect.<br /><br />Susshem is still influential today though some jinyu philosophers now think she tried too hard to fit everything into a river metaphor.<br /><br />Most jinyu live with their own kind, but a good number also mingle with the pandaren. The contemplative jinyu are naturals for monastic life, while others work as scholars and bureaucrats. Pandaren towns act as an escape valve for jinyu who do not think they fit with their castes. Some jinyu monks, warriors, and scholars in pandaren lands are actually rebellious lower caste jinyu who sought to better their station. Jinyu leaders typically allow this, to the point that self-imposed exile is considered a respectable choice for someone unhappy with their station.<br /><br />Jinyu warriors are fearsome though their need to stay hydrated limits the environments in which they can fight. Waterspeakers also act as an informal intelligence network for Pandaria.<br /><br /><b>The Pearlfin Jinyu</b><br /><br />The Pearlfin are believed to be the descendants of the old Jinyu Empire's old ruling court. Given the years of travel and intermarriage with other jinyu villages, it's unclear how much of the old blood remains, but no one disputes the name's lineage.<br /><br />The Pearlfin Tribe honored the Peace of Orgrimmar by accepting Pandaria's authority. However, they remain close to the Alliance, which now runs a small embassy in Pearlfin Village. Ambitious and curious Pearlfin jinyu sometimes leave Pandaria to aid Alliance reconnaissance and serve in its military.<br /><br /><b>The Grummles</b><br /><br />In ancient times, the mogu bred the grummle to be loyal messengers and couriers who braved the high mountain passes of Kun-Lai. As a free people, they now guide travelers and traders through those same treacherous routes.<br /><br />Not all grummle are guides, of course. Some work as traveling peddlers who may go far beyond the Kun-Lai Summit. The lowland grummle who live in the dry steppes south of Kun-Lai typically run yak ranches and small farms.<br /><br />Though polite, the grummle tend to keep outsiders at arm's length. It is known that they live in small units of four to five families. The exact method that the grummle use to keep track of generational intermarriage between clans and villages is not known, though likely quite sophisticated. Families typically work together on commercial ventures which is why grummle in a particular company or herd will refer to each other as "cousin". Younger grummle are guided by an elder referred to as an "uncle". This is not necessarily literal or gender-specific. However, it is considered bad luck for a parent to manage their children while working, which means a young grummle will always report to an uncle, aunt, or older cousin.<br /><br />Much has been said about the grummle cultural practice of the "luckydo", which is a particular item that grants fortune or protection. The grummle do not typically concern themselves with philosophy. They are, however, a devout people. Even the smallest village will revere the Four Celestials along with a host of other gods and spirits unique to the grummle. Countless rituals are performed throughout the day to appease these oft-jealous lesser gods.<br /><br />In general, the grummle adopt a fatalistic view of the world. Though their deeper religious practices remain obscure to the outside world, it is known that they are the only race in Pandaria to believe in reincarnation. This may be their interpretation of mogu spirit-capture magic, in which an entity's soul could be ripped from their body and placed in another, or in an inanimate object. The grummle hope that they can one day break the cycle of reincarnation and achieve true peace. This can be done through a life of exceptionally piety, or through luck.<br /><br />On rare occasions, an infant is recognized as a reincarnation of a specific grummle from another community. This is less momentous than it sounds. Typically, such a recognition simply heralds a strengthening of ties with a different clan or village. The reincarnated grummle is regarded as a full member of both involved communities, though this does not confer any particular prestige. Grummle shamans do trace such reincarnations though they are reluctant to talk of this with outsiders.<br /><br />Though grummle traders can be found throughout Pandaria, it is rare for them to set down roots in other towns. They will almost always return to their families in and around Kun-Lai.<br /><br /><b>The Yaungols</b><br /><br />It's not at all clear if the Pandaren Revolution would have succeeded had it not been for the dauntless yaungol warriors of the western steppes. Unfortunately, they did not benefit from their victory.<br /><br />Nomads and farmers seldom get along and the early days of free Pandaria were marked by conflict between the roving yaungol clans and the pandaren and grummle farmers. This lasted until a dispute ended in the destruction of a small pandaren village. The outraged Biyu Emperor declared that all yaungol must be kept west of the Serpent's Spine.<br /><br />This marked the beginning of the Tall Grass Campaign, a war that stretched out over several generations. In the end, the yaungol were driven from civilized Pandaria and forced to live in the mantid-haunted western lands.<br /><br />The yaungol tell this story somewhat differently. They do not see themselves as having done anything wrong. The pandaren had respected the yaungol for their ferocity during the revolution, only to turn on them once the yaungol ways became inconvenient. That the pandaren would use mogu infrastructure like the Serpent's Spine just showed that the new empire was not truly different from the old one.<br /><br />Life in the Townlong Steppes has hardened the yaungol. Though the grass there is rich, and good fodder for their herds, they must constantly fight the mantids. Some in Pandaria believe that this endless battle helps thin the mantid ranks but this is unlikely; the yaungol are simply not numerous enough to really inflict much harm on the swarms.<br /><br />The yaungol have found many clever ways to survive. One is their use of oil. Burning oil creates fumes that confuse and exhaust mantids. The yaungol shamans are able to call spirits to extract oil, and use it in many of their fiery rituals. The yaungol believe in many spirits and in a powerful deity known as She Who Watches. She Who Watches may be the yaungol version of the Earthmother, but she is a distant goddess who cares little for worship. Most reverence is directed toward a clan's ancestor spirits.<br /><br />Yaungol live in matrilineal clans. Warriors through and through, the clans are highly communal. Much like their tauren cousins, the yaungol take good care of their own. Clans never battle one another and internal disputes are usually solved peacefully. In cases where this is not possible, the offended parties will fight each other with blunted weaponry, so as to reduce the likelihood of serious injury. Both the winner and loser will undergo a shared cleansing ritual to reaffirm their brotherhood.<br /><br />In the peaceful times between mantid invasions, some yaungol clans are permitted to enter Pandaria for trade. These exchanges generally occur without incident. They never stay for very long, however. Pandaria is simply too constrained for nomads.<br /><br /><b>The Sauroks</b><br /><br />The saurok were the first race to rebel against the Mogu Empire. Their former masters bred them as soldiers: cunning, violent, and aggressive. Sadly, these traits did not serve them well after the Mogu Empire's fall.<br /><br />Modern saurok live in organized war bands on the periphery of pandaren society. Warriors by design, they seem compelled to maintain a culture of constant violence. Small groups of saurok rely on hunting and gathering, typically in remote wilderness areas. Bands that grow larger will attack settlements for food. This invariably gets the attention of pandaren warriors, who will persecute the saurok and disperse them into smaller groups. From there, the cycle begins anew.<br /><br /><b>The Mogu</b><br /><br />Like the other titan-born races, the mogu originated as stone constructs given life by the Curse of Flesh. Their formidable intellects and arcane talents enabled them to craft a powerful and despotic empire that endured for thousands of years. The signs of mogu power abide even in modern Pandaria. Their palaces and fortifications endure, as do some of their aesthetics and cultural practices.<br /><br />Much of what is known about the mogu comes from the texts they left behind. The mogu were driven to achieve strength and dominance. To them, weakness was the only unforgivable sin. No one is sure why they embraced such an ethos of power. Some speculate that it was a reaction to the enfeebling nature of the Curse of Flesh, but this is only speculation.<br /><br />The mogu followed a cruel but coherent philosophy called the Strict Path. No one knows who first formulated this philosophy. The earliest mentions come from the writings of Emperor Tian the Ruthless. Tian says that he accepted the Strict Path, and that once he did, he killed the man who came up with it. This makes more sense once the philosophy is understood.<br /><br />The Strict Path states that all things tend toward weakness and corruption. Fear is the only way to motivate anyone to better themselves. Slaves fear the lash, scholars fear disgrace, and soldiers fear death. The primary duty of the sovereign is to ensure that everyone lives in fear at all times, for only this can create a strong state.<br /><br />Laws are a tool for punishing unreliable subordinates. Family ties mean nothing. Rewards should only go to the strong and clever. Weakness is the only thing forbidden to the sovereign. The emperor may do anything else they wish, so long as they are strong enough to do so. Truth has no intrinsic value, since only the powerful determine what is true. Emperor Tian's killing of the Strict Path's unnamed creator, and his co-opting of the philosophy, might be seen as a display of power.<br /><br />The Strict Path did encourage meritocracy. All mogu children were taken from their parents at birth and raised in creches. This made nepotism impossible. A faceless soldier in the emperor's armies could be his son, but he would never know. Family life was seen as a luxury enjoyed only by slaves. The mogu saw life as a series of cruel tests. Success was the only path to respect, and failure deserved only scorn.<br /><br />The mogu obsession with dominion extended to their interactions with the natural world. They saw Pandaria's forests and mountains as clay to be sculpted and made useful. Mogu architecture tended to be utilitarian, though imperial residences could be quite lavish.<br /><br />Information about the Mogu Empire comes primarily from two sources: pandaren scholars and the mogu remnant clans. It's been theorized that both have reason to exaggerate the cruelty of the old empire. For the pandaren, such a narrative justifies the Pandaren Revolution. For the mogu clans (and the propaganda of the Mogu Empire), it has the effect of making them seem more fearsome.<br /><br />Indeed, it is hard to imagine that an empire consisting solely of power-hungry maniacs could survive for as long as the Mogu Empire did (though the Burning Legion managed it for longer). But while the brutality of the ancient mogu may be exaggerated, there is no question that they were quite harsh. It may be that the Strict Path was limited to elites, with lower caste mogu being somewhat more moderate in their approach. The fact that some emperors, like Tsao, took a more merciful stance suggests that the Strict Path was not universally embraced.<br /><br />The return of the Thunder King failed to bring about a new Mogu Empire and the clans were once again scattered. The race faces an uncertain future, though there is a small mogu community in Zandalar. These mogu are actually descendants of immigrants who fled the fall of the first Mogu Empire, and have been living in Zandalar for thousands of years. During that time, they have adopted many aspects of Zandalari culture though they are seen as second-class citizens.<br /><br /><b>The Mantids</b><br /><br />The mantid swarms have been the eternal enemy of Pandaria. Like the other invertebrate empires of Azeroth, the mantids are associated with the Old Gods.<br /><br />Mantid lore says that their race once existed in the "Pure State". Here, every mantid effortlessly conducted the actions correct to their station. Drones and warriors worked in harmony with directors and generals, and directors and generals worked in harmony with the empress. This was done without question or even the need for words—chemicals inspired the right action. The empress herself served as a flawless vessel for the will of Y'shaarj.<br /><br />Yet doubt arose. Y'shaarj left the mantids to fend for themselves. Modern mantids see themselves as cursed into freedom. This might strike outsiders as peculiar, given the mantid tendency to obedience. However, they see this obedience as forced self-discipline. Mantid are taught to follow orders from an early age. What they actually want, however, is obedience without effort.<br /><br />This is in contrast to the qiraji, who still rely on pheromonal control, and the nerubians, who actively reject pheromones in favor of iron self-discipline.<br /><br />Today, obedience is compelled through sound. The noise made by the vibration of mantid wings can be subtly altered to precisely direct even the largest swarms. A general will start the sonic cascade, which then spreads to lieutenants, and then down to even the smallest drone. Multiple orders can be contained in a single sound. Every mantid wishes to experience this at least one; they believe that this is the closest they will ever get to the Pure State.<br /><br />Mantid society revolves around the immense kypari trees found growing in western Pandaria. The sap of these trees has myriad properties. It can be hardened into tools, building materials, and weapons. Kypari sap also has utility as medicine, preservatives, and can even store the raw thoughts of elite mantids. It's the lifeblood of their society.<br /><br />The majority of mantids live within these kypari trees. This is a symbiotic rather than parasitic relationship; the mantids guide the tree's growth, cleanse it of actual parasites, and ensure its health. The decay of several kypari trees is what prompted the mantids' recent premature invasion of Pandaria.<br /><br />Similarly important are the enormous kunchong beetles. These titans trundle across the landscape, clearing overgrowth and smoothing hills. In so doing, the kunchong secrete a type of amber that supplements the larger store of kypari amber.<br /><br />The mantids do not invade Pandaria with the intent of conquest. Rather, they see it as a test of their own abilities. The swarms seek to perpetually strengthen themselves through challenges, and by pruning the weak. The skilled warriors of Pandaria are seen as the ultimate test.<br /><br />This is why the mantids' failure to defeat Pandaria is never seen as a failure. In fighting, the pandaren help the mantids accomplish their goals. One might wonder why a constantly strengthening swarm wouldn't eventually conquer Pandaria in spite of itself. The reason for this may be that the swarm is reactive. Though it will learn from its mistakes, it won't necessarily anticipate new tactics or strategies used by the pandaren.<br /><br />Also, not all invasions are the same. The mantid population reaches a critical mass every seven to eight generations, which leads to a particularly numerous invading army. Most invasions, while terrifying, are smaller and less taxing to the pandaren.<br /><br />Mantid society is ruled by an empress, but guided by the Klaxxi. These are immortal mantids who study the ebb and flow of history to determine the best course for the swarms. This requires a certain degree of independent thought.<br /><br />The minority of warriors who survive invasions are granted many honors. They may command their own swarms and get access to the best amber. A scant few are chosen to join the Klaxxi. These are often warriors who are successful in spite of being insubordinate. Disobedience may cost the lives of thousands of lesser warriors—but this is seen as a acceptable. After all, the purpose of the battles is to cull the weak.<br /><br />It is notable that most Klaxxi have come from the smaller mantid swarms that follow the kunchong beetles.<br /><br />Currently, the mantids are slowly returning to order under the reign of a new empress. Though the paragons were destroyed in the Fourth War, there are still a number of non-combatant Klaxxi who can guide the swarms. Belief in the Pure State abides, despite the disastrous release of the Sha.Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-55917976162185465282020-04-25T08:57:00.002-07:002020-04-25T08:57:45.287-07:00A Note on Pandaren Philosophy<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps the most notable aspect of Pandaria is its lack of any formal ruling body. While emperors and conquerors mar the land's early history, the pandarens have shunned such characters for the last 10,000 years. The panderen way is to govern without governing, and this seeming contradiction reveals much about their culture.<br /><br />Much of ancient Pandaria suffered under the cruelty of the mogu, who warred over and eventually united the continent during the Age of Quarreling Kings. One of the reasons the mogu formed an empire was to protect against the mantid swarms to the west. The tyranny of the mogu led them to enforce a common culture and language throughout the continent. The loss of earlier art and knowledge must be mourned, but this cultural unity would benefit the panderen and other races.<br /><br />Today, regardless of where they are in Pandaria, a panderen (or hozen, or jinyu, or grummle) will be able to communicate with the people around them. This is not to say that they will be especially similar—there are significant cultural differences from region to region. However, there are shared values that transcend race or location.<br /><br />The most important of these is the concept of balance, or <i>shenguo</i>. This ideal informs the core of panderen philosophy. Balance refers not only to moderation and evenness in personal behavior, but also to the world's natural state. The first philosopher to explore this concept was Li Wo, who lived during the tumultuous Thousand Colors Period.<br /><br />The Thousand Colors Period refers to the era between the fall of the Mogu Empire and the gradual rise of the Pandaren Empire. This time was marked by chaos and confusion. Starvation ravaged some corners of the continent due to the collapse of neglected infrastructure, and warlords (of all races) rallied troops to carve out their own realms. The mantids again prepared to swarm, and the scattered pandarens were not in any shape to resist. Many wondered if it had perhaps been an error to overthrow the old empire, as there was no longer any defense against the mantids. Though Kang's revolution had been a success, he'd failed to create a true alternative to the warlike mogu style of rule.<br /><br />Li Wo was a wandering teacher who grew weary of the constant bloodshed. Yet she found hope in the natural world. She argued that the world tended toward balance and self-correction. If a forest's deer population grew too big, it would inevitably starve, or would be culled by wolves. This happened on its own, not willed by any emperor or magistrate.<br /><br />She explained her beliefs in a book called <i>The Three Priceless Treasures</i> (she was a tireless self-promoter). The treasures are summarized as follows:<br /><br />1. The ideal state of the world is balance.<br />2. When imbalance occurs, it will eventually correct itself.<br />3. Balance cannot be forced upon the world, as that in itself causes imbalance.<br /><br />De-emphasizing conscious action resonated with the pandaren and other races, whose slavery under the mogu was still in living memory. <i>The Three Priceless Treasures</i> also offered hope. The Mogu Empire was imbalanced in how it enforced its many cruel and arbitrary dictates. The Thousand Colors Period was a correction to this, but one that provided its own imbalance (in the form of chaos). But sooner or later, balance would be restored. The philosophy also offered a rebuke to the warlords who sought to follow the path of the mogu.<br /><br />The idea of not forcing balance is one of the reasons that pandaren culture tends to emphasize living in the moment. Things will tend toward self-correction so long as people are allowed to follow their nature (which always moves toward balance). The idea is that a person, on some level, knows what is best for them, and should not be prevented from pursuing that.<br /><br />Such a philosophy might be seen as rewarding indolence and other vices. Li Wo argues that bad habits tend to be corrected. They may be corrected by fate (in which the vice causes death), or simply by time and wisdom. Vices tend to cause suffering, and most of those who undergo the suffering will eventually realize the error in their behavior and correct it. But virtue is not something that can be forced; it must be realized from within.<br /><br />The last-minute defeat of the mantids at the paws of Jin of the Heavy Sandals (a devotee of Li Wo) seemed to prove her point. The pandaren had simply let things take their course, but as needed, someone stepped up to defeat the invaders. The brutality of the mogu had never been necessary. The pandaren people, as individuals and communities, had understood what was best for them and banded together for protection. They did so successfully and without force.<br /><br />The shared culture of the Pandarian peoples enabled Woism to spread. Over time, it became the basis of a new empire that prized moderation and freedom. The Pandaren Empire never enslaved its subjects or forced them into war. Its primary focus was simply to ensure that the mantid swarms were kept at bay.<br /><br />Of course, some philosophers argued that the existence of an empire was itself in violation of Wo's philosophy. After all, if balance were truly an innate tendency, wouldn't the empire be unnecessary? Imperial apologists said that the empire was itself an expression of balance, but this struck many as too patently self-serving.<br /><br />Further, many were chagrined at the leeway Woism gave for personal behavior. A pandaren who practiced vices would eventually self-correct, but what of the suffering they underwent before that period? What of the suffering they brought upon family? Was it really so bad to encourage virtue?<br /><br />The philosopher Hao Ren attempted to address what he saw as the flaws of Woism. He never rejected the concept of balance; rather, he attempted to refine it.<br /><br />Taking Wo's original example of a deer population, Ren pointed out that sentient beings could also take care of the problem with hunters. Ren's argument fully embraced the first two arguments of <i>The Three Priceless Treasures</i>, but rejected the third. Namely, he contended that balance is something that must be encouraged. He stressed that such encouragement is different from enforcement.<br /><br />Ren formulated his ideas during the Years of Sagging Bellies. This was a catastrophic famine that struck Pandaria midway through the reign of the Yangjin Emperor (almost a thousand years after the Thousand Colors Period). The famine arose due to an explosion in the virmeen population. Ren claimed that neglecting the virmeen problem had allowed the famine to happen. While balance would eventually be restored, the loss in lives made it unacceptable to sit by and do nothing.<br /><br />In his book, <i>August Virtues</i>, Ren wrote that it is the responsibility of the individual to cultivate virtue. This included benevolence, generosity, passion/dedication (the Pandaren word implies both in equal measure), and sociability, among others. Ren believed that by mastering virtue, rather than instinct, one would have the wisdom to guide the world toward balance and maintain it. Instinct was powerful, but limited.<br /><br />The tendency to live in the moment remained, though Renism tempered this by arguing that satisfaction came from tempering one's instincts. Rather than letting oneself be hurt by vice, one should avoid pain by shunning that vice.<br /><br />Ren Hao frequently referred to the mantid swarms, using them as an example of guided balance. The pandaren defeated the mantids by consciously working together, and were most successful when led by august and virtuous leaders. He cites Jin of the Heavy Sandals as a prime example of such a leader.<br /><br />Renism became popular, particularly in educated circles. Hao Ren was not above flattering some of the members of the imperial court, who took their own success as a sign of virtue (though in his later years, Ren warned about this in a circumspect way). Certainly, there was much more the empire could be doing to meet the needs of its subjects. Woism sometimes bordered on callousness, so the empire worked harder to help those led astray by bad habits.<br /><br />This is not to say that Ren encouraged laziness. He believed that all pandaren could achieve virtue, and that all were obliged to try, from the poorest farmer to the richest landowner. The empire should facilitate this, but not force it.<br /><br />The Shaohao Emperor was a proponent of Renism, and this is what inspired him to bury his dark emotions.<br /><br />Woism and Renism remain the two pillars of mainland pandaren philosophy. The interplay between the two has shaped the continent's culture and society. Renism was particularly strong during the Hundred Years Sorrow, the era immediately after the Shaohao Emperor's apotheosis. Renist philosophy provided structure post-imperial Pandaria, and suggested that all pandaren could be strong and virtuous without need of an emperor.<br /><br />Yet Renism became increasingly overbearing. Scholars too often dictated the behavior of others. Many mistook luck or temporary success as a sign of virtue. As the Renist scholars and bureaucrats consolidated their position, growing more flagrantly corrupt, Woism underwent a resurgence. Pandaren rejected the stifling rules and planned virtue, preferring simple and spontaneous lives.<br /><br />This back-and-forth is a defining aspect of pandaren history. A minor school of philosophy, baidoism, sees the never-ending duel between Woism and Renism as an example of balance.<br /><br />Currently, Woism is again making strides. The eruption of the Sha seemed a rebuttal against Renism. The Renism goal of guided emotional balance was clearly upsetting the balance by not allowing expression of darker emotions.<br /><br />Balance affects the way modern pandaren view the newly revealed outside world. However, it must be stressed that respectable pandaren sages do not regard the contest between the Horde and the Alliance as an example of balance or self-correction. Both factions are relatively new, and cannot be compared to the eternal verities on which the best pandaren philosophy rests. Laypeople, however, are fond of seeing the Horde and Alliance as examples of balance in action.<br /><br />This is by no means an exhaustive description of pandaren philosophy. There are numerous smaller schools. Some of them are offshoots of Woism or Renism, though others are independent. The pandaren of the Wandering Isle cultivated their own philosophies: Tushui and Huojin.<br /><br />Tushui's emphasis on virtue takes clear inspiration from Renism. However, Tushui tends to be more collective in orientation, perhaps because the limited space on the Wandering Isle encouraged strong cooperation. While virtue must be cultivated, this is for the express purpose of guiding others rather than for self-edification or a better understanding of balance. Huojin seems more inspired by the stories of Kang than by any previous philosophical school. It emphasizes heroism and action as the appropriate ways to protect the community. Neither of the Wandering Isles philosophies puts as much emphasis on balance.</span>Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-68910708221534084542020-04-24T08:44:00.001-07:002020-04-25T01:10:38.782-07:00The Neutral Powers, Post-LegionfallThe neutral states were caught off-guard by the Fourth War, and many reacted belatedly or not at all. Ironically, it was the single greatest neutral power, Pandaria, that was instrumental in ending the conflict (though Pandaria will be addressed in its own section, not this one). Today, the vacuum left by the weakened Horde has given these states new openings. At the same time, they must work ever more closely with the superpower that is the Alliance.<br />
<br />
<b>The Argent Protectorate</b><br />
<br />
The Argent Crusade more or less stumbled its way into sovereign status. The old Argent Crusade (and the Argent Dawn before that) was an almost purely military organization, dedicated to driving evil from the ruins of Lordaeron. In so doing, they found themselves the stewards to the human remnant population in the Plaguelands. Now that the Scourge is no more, the Argent Crusade had no choice but to put down their swords and take up their pens in order to care for their subjects.<br />
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Unfortunately, battle-hardened crusaders do not necessarily make good peacetime leaders. The early years of the Argent Protectorate (which includes much of the Western Plaguelands and all of the Eastern) were almost farcical. While the Argents had some experience with administration, they had trouble prioritizing the needs of their civilian population. Dalaranese expertise helped address this management issue.<br />
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Life in the Argent Protectorate is far from luxurious but is relatively safe so long as one stays in the cleansed areas. Anyone can apply to become a resident, but only those with experience in the Argent military are permitted to act as leaders. This has led to a militaristic attitude that has become somewhat problematic given the Argent Protectorate's delicate geographical position. The Argent Protectorate considers the Forsaken to be morally equivalent to the Scourge, and many within it would like to declare war against Sylvanas. The Alliance will almost certainly take the Argent Protectorate's side in the event of conflict.<br />
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Cooler heads point out that the Alliance would not be able to score a decisive victory in time to save Argent territory. The Argent Crusade has a substantial civilian population that it must protect from both death and undeath. It's one thing for the soldiers to sacrifice themselves, quite another for the families they protect to do the same. But Forsaken atrocities are well-known and continue to inspire anger. Ex-Forsaken Argents are often among the most strident advocates for war.<br />
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<b>The Cenarion Circle</b><br />
<br />
The Cenarion Circle was caught completely wrong-footed by the Fourth War. Horde depredations in Ashenvale outraged the circle's membership, and they hewed ever closer to Darnassus. Horde druids found themselves isolated. Those who apologized for Garrosh's actions risked censure from their Horde superiors, and such apologies usually garnered more scorn from the Alliance. By the end of the Fourth War, there was little to distinguish the Cenarion Circle from the Darnassian government.<br />
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The war against the Legion gave the Cenarion Circle a much-needed boost. Their druids moved in after the debacle at the Broken Shore and played an instrumental role in repelling the Legion. Some of the factional differences were resolved and the Cenarion Circle again stands on its own.<br />
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<b>The Earthen Ring</b><br />
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The Earthen Ring was one of the few neutral powers to support the Horde during the Fourth War. Garrosh's increasing savagery, and his seeming indifference to the spirits, soon made them look like hypocrites. Alliance shamans considered splitting off to form their own organization.<br />
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Much like the Cenarion Circle, the Earthen Ring was granted a new life during the Legion invasion. Though still sympathetic to the Horde, they have made clear that their primary purpose is to work with the spirits of Azeroth.<br />
<br />
<b>The Steamwheedle Cartel</b><br />
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The Fourth War provided some wild ups and downs for the Steamwheedle goblins. Fortunes were earned on the arms trade, even as they were lost investing in the Elemental Planes. The Legion invasion gave the arms dealers a second wind. As is so often the case, Steamwheedle lenders and traders played an instrumental part in saving Azeroth.<br />
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After Legionfall, the Steamwheedle Cartel shifted its focus to infrastructure and construction. The Horde's inclusion of the Bilgewater Cartel alienated the Steamwheedle bosses, but they have a good working relationship with the Darkspear Tribe, which has extensive investments throughout Stranglethorn Vale. The cartel has also been working with Uldum, though there is suspicion that this relationship tends to exploit the tol'vir, who have little experience with such things.<br />
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The Steamwheedle Cartel remains a place where misfits from other societies can find a home, so long as they're willing to work for it. Though goblins predominate, the Steamwheedle cities are all melting pots of different races and creeds. These are areas where Horde and Alliance citizens can meet each other as equals. The board of directors includes two trolls and a human. As one might expect, Steamwheedle territories also attract spies from all over.<br />
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<b>Dalaran</b><br />
<br />
Dalaran is a source of frustration for the Alliance. Garrosh's aggression led the floating city-state to rejoin the Alliance, and many in Stormwind and Ironforge assumed this would be permanent. Dalaran's abrupt departure after the Fourth War enraged many and has cast a pall of suspicion over the Kirin Tor.<br />
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In truth, Dalaran believes it has a mission to protect Azeroth and only joined the Alliance in order to facilitate this goal. During the Legion Invasion, they reasoned that they could better serve the world by acting as neutral coordinators for the innumerable partisans and freelancers who flocked to fight the demons. Their reasoning was correct.<br />
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Dalaran has remained in position over the Broken Isles though it controls extensive farmland in western Crystalsong Forest up in Northrend. The city welcomes researchers and mages from around the world, though the Kirin Tor tend to be tightfisted about sharing information. Access to the better Kirin Tor libraries is limited to Dalaranese citizens. Horde and Alliance scholars who wish to see such information would have to renounce their factions in order to do so. Those who attempt to smuggle information to other parties are violently terminated if caught.<br />
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<b>Shattrath City</b><br />
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Outland's remote location has preserved it from the recent chaos. The Dark Portal is effectively controlled by the Alliance, but the vast wasteland of Hellfire Peninsula on the other side means that there's no easy way for them to resupply armies or outposts. The Outland Campaign was logistically taxing, and there is no longer any reason for either the Horde or the Alliance to maintain a significant presence on the crumbling realm.<br />
<br />
This suits Outland just fine. Shattrath City remains a beacon of peace and safety in a tumultuous universe. A new generation has grown up in the teeming streets of the Lower City and races from multiple worlds mingle in the vast marketplaces. The arrivals have altered the makeup of the Sha'tar governing body, which now only has a Draenic minority. This was an initial source of frustration to the Draenei, who feared that the other races would detract from the Draenei's holy mission to provide piety and safety for all. Over time, this attitude has changed. Though the Draenei remain committed to their mission, they also realize that other races can only gradually be guided to a more holy state. Some of the non-Draenei, however, are dedicated to ensuring that Shattrath never becomes so holy as to prevent profit or a good time.<br />
<br />
Conflict exists in the Lower City, but is blunted by the Naaru presence. Arguments can be fierce, but they never erupt into violence. Penury is always possible, but there is a safety net. The Sha'tar hear the voices of those who speak. The Aldor have re-dedicated themselves to helping the poor and dispossessed, while the Scryers now act as an informal university (though it's difficult to get in without the right connections). With so many intermingling cultures, it is no surprise that the arts have thrived in Shattrath, and many believe there is no better place for a creative mind.<br />
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Shattrath City's authority now extends well beyond the city's walls, and has peacefully incorporated the remaining populations of Skettis and the Cabal.<br />
<br />
<b>The Order of the Ebon Blade</b><br />
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The death knights of the Ebon Blade launched themselves into the war against the Legion. When that was done, most retreated back to Icecrown Glacier where they keep an eye on the Scourge remnant. They seem to have little interest in the world beyond that, though some can still be found serving the Horde or Alliance.<br />
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<b>The Illidari</b><br />
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The demon hunters continue their war against the remnants of the Burning Legion. Familiar with fiendish stratagems, they know that rogue warlords might still try to foment chaos in Azeroth. Those who do will soon find the Illidari's Azzinoth blades at their throats.<br />
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Most in Azeroth have accepted Illidan's return. However, residents in Outland remember the suffering they endured under Illidan's reign, and have made very clear that the Illidari are not welcome. Demon hunters who travel to Outland do so at their own peril—which sometimes helps the demon hunters' quarry.<br />
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<b>Zangarmarsh</b><br />
<br />
The Cenarion Expedition remained in Zangarmarsh, and is self-sufficient. These druids have gained a better understanding of the fungal ecology and are dedicated to preserving this diverse environment. The creation of a second spawning ground has ensured that the sporeling race will still have a future. Sporeggar works closely with the Cenarion Expedition, and few within the organization were surprised when a sporeling, Fessh'fin, was elevated to Archdruid of Outland.<br />
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The Cenarion Circle was troubled by this, but they were too far away for their opinion to matter.<br />
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<b>Ogri'la</b><br />
The enlightened ogres of Ogri'la pool their efforts into uplifting those ogres who can be, and to feeding the rest. It's not an ideal state, but is the best that can be done for now.<br />
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<b>The Consortium</b><br />
<br />
There was a time when it seemed as if the Consortium ethereals were poised to enter the markets of Azeroth. Distance and strife convinced the Consortium to focus on Outland. Netherstorm remains a hub of ethereal activity. The goblins of Area 52 are effectively run by the Consortium, giving the traders within access to markets on dozens of worlds. Ever so slowly, artifacts and goods from unimaginably distant realms filter their way into Outland, and from there to Azeroth.<br />
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<b>Zul'drak</b><br />
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Zul'drak was ruined by the Scourge. The failure of the spirit-slave system has turned the once-temperate lower tiers into frigid wastelands. Ice trolls survive in a few pockets, but it is doubtful that they will ever regain their empire.<br />
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<b>Ulduar</b><br />
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The Earthen of Ulduar chose not to formally join the Alliance. However, they still share information and resources with dwarven explorers. No one knows exactly what the Earthen do within Ulduar, though most information suggests that they are simply trying to rebuild after the war with the iron dwarves.<br />
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<b>The Tuskarr Tribes</b><br />
<br />
The tuskarr celebrated the Lich King's fall as much as anyone else. Life is good; there's plenty of fish, and far fewer enemies. Yet they are troubled by the encroaching human presence. Kirovi fishermen and Stormwind colonists sometimes seize the best fishing spots. It's not yet a serious problem, but will become one if trends continue.<br />
<br />
The tuskarr value their independence, but they are one of the few neutral groups to favor the Horde. The shared shamanistic culture gives them some common ground and they do not think the Alliance would ever take their side in a quarrel against Kirovar or Stormwind.<br />
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<b>The Wyrmrest Accord</b><br />
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The dragon flights have largely accepted that they will play a smaller role from now on. Currently, the flights are dedicated to teaching their mortal successors. Much work is also being done to find a replacement for Ysera, who perished during the Legion Invasion.<br />
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<b>The Frenzyheart Tribe</b><br />
<br />
The wolvar of the Frenzyheart Tribe eventually exhausted themselves in constant fighting. They lurk at the edge of the Sholazar Basin, gradually building up strength for another go at it. They are the only viable wolvar population left in Northrend.<br />
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<b>The Oracles</b><br />
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The Oracles have taken advantage of the Scourge's fall to increase their numbers. Several outsiders, primarily dwarves and night elves, are providing assistance. A handful of gorloc prodigies try and develop Oracle society, but it is slow going at best.<br />
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<b>Uldum</b><br />
<br />
The kingdoms of Uldum face an uncertain future. Far more primitive than much of Azeroth, the tol'vir struggle to bring their realm up to speed. The power of the Horde and Alliance has sent cultural shock waves through Uldum, and some now question the worth of their own culture.<br />
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Ramkahen is peaceful but impoverished. The pharaoh has sent tol'vir scholars to learn from the wider world, and some have been successful. But it will take generations for meaningful change to take place. Conservative tol'vir resent these changes, and question why they should imitate foreign societies.<br />
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The Orsisi have fully reverted to their nomadic state and there have been several confrontations with Ramkaheni farmers. It is probably only a matter of time before violence erupts. Worryingly, the Orsisi tend to readily accept the powerful weapons of the outside world.<br />
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Alliance intervention saved the Neferseti from complete collapse. These stone tol'vir cannot normally reproduce. A few dwarven philanthropists work with the distant Earthen to find a solution.</div>
Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-55016797358411345232020-04-23T14:57:00.001-07:002020-04-23T14:59:53.219-07:00A Few Notes on Travel<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Treaty of Orgrimmar officially permits travel between the Horde and the Alliance. In reality, such travel is subject to numerous limitations and remains relatively rare.<br /><br /><b>The Alliance:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span><b>Khaz Modan</b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>:</b> Horde subjects can generally travel safely through the Bronzebeard regions of Khaz Modan, though they are unlikely to get a friendly reception. Wildhammer lands can be dangerous for orcs, trolls, and Forsaken. Here, goblins and tauren are generally tolerated, and Sin'dorei may be welcomed if they are of a lineage that helped the Wildhammer Clan in times past. The Dark Iron territories are dangerous, but members of the Horde with the right skills can actually get good work as bodyguards and freelancers.<br /><br /><b>Gnomeregan:</b> Horde visitors are generally treated well.<br /><br /><b>Stormwind (and other human kingdoms):</b> While there's no official rule against Horde citizens, travelers often face harassment. Violence may occur in more remote regions. Travel here is not recommended.<br /><br /><b>Darnassus:</b> Only the tauren are ever permitted within Kaldorei lands. Others will be turned back at the borders, and killed on sight if found within.<br /><br /><b>The Exodar:</b> The Draenei welcome all peaceful Horde visitors, and are not shy about sharing their religion. The location of the Azuremyst Archipelago makes it difficult to reach the Exodar without traveling through Kaldorei lands, so the Draenei have set up a ferry between the Exodar and Shadowprey Village.<br /><br /><b>Gilneas:</b> It is suicidal for any Horde citizen to travel here.<br /><br /><b>The Horde:</b><br /><br /><b>The Orcish Horde:</b> Alliance travelers often face violence and aggression from the orcs. Many orcs still wish to avenge the humiliation they felt after the end of the Fourth War.<br /><br /><b>The Darkspear Tribe:</b> Alliance citizens usually get a cold reception in Darkspear lands throughout Kalimdor (Draenei tend to get a more favorable reception due to the Exodar's generous donations). The holdings in Stranglethorn Vale are more welcoming, though visitors are expected to be there on business.<br /><br /><b>The United Tauren Tribes:</b> Most Alliance visitors are warmly welcomed, particularly night elves. However, dwarves and gnomes tend to get chillier receptions.<br /><br /><b>The Bilgewater Cartel:</b> Visitors may fall prey to scams or petty theft. Beyond that, cartel lands are reasonably safe for the Alliance. Some Alliance citizens even work in Bilgewater Harbor.<br /><br /><b>Lordaeron:</b> It is suicidal for any Alliance citizen to travel here.<br /><br /><b>Quel'thalas:</b> The Sin'dorei are selective about visitors. High elves are generally welcome, along with well-connected gnomes, Wildhammer dwarves, Draenei, and humans. Void elves are turned back, though usually with an apology. The Ren'dorei come from respectable families, but the nature of their condition simply makes it unsafe for Quel'thalas to accept them as visitors (and few Ren'dorei would be so presumptuous as to visit). Others are barred at entry, and will be arrested, interrogated, and deported if found inside the country.</span>Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-4701722567506579482020-04-23T11:27:00.000-07:002020-04-23T11:42:12.568-07:00The Horde, Post-Legionfall: The Eastern Kingdoms<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Lordaeron</b><br /><br />If nothing else, the Forsaken are the only major Horde race that actually kept some of their conquered territory. The Hillsbrad Foothills and the ruins of Andorhal in the Western Plaguelands remain in the Banshee Queen's grip. Gilneas was lost, but is of little consequence. The Forsaken broke the Gilnean armies. Though the land has been re-occupied by its natives, it is a haunted shell of its former self.<br /><br />Yet this does not change the fact that the Forsaken are fewer in number than they were at the start of the war. Corpses culled from Gilneas and Lordaeron's paltry human holdouts replenished some losses, but not enough. Now corralled by the peace treaty, the Forsaken face an uncertain future as a race.<br /><br />The failure of the Fourth War forced most Horde races to re-examine themselves. Little of this occurred within Lordaeron. Sylvanas spent years cultivating bitterness and resentment among the Forsaken, and most undead firmly believe that the war was justified, that the world hates them and wants them gone. The Alliance's reactions to Gilneas and Southshore—both done as protective measures—are proof that the Forsaken are fighting for their right to exist. Few challenge the narrative.<br /><br />Those who do tend to disappear.<br /><br />Many Forsaken remain apathetic. The miasma of undeath stifles positive emotion. Instead, they lose themselves in busywork or memory, shuffling through the sepulchral halls of Undercity and other settlements. Though Sylvanas now proclaims her realm to be Lordaeron, she has directed her abominations to tear down most remnants of the old kingdom, replacing the steeples and citadels with skull-topped manses. If Lordaeron exists, it will be on her terms only.<br /><br />The strands of the Cult of the Forgotten Shadow have been woven together into the Church of Shadow, a dogma that serves Sylvanas. The priests remind the Forsaken that the living are cruel and that kindness may only be found among the dead. Many Forsaken now congregate in profaned churches to weep and rend their garments. The priests are to affirm and validate this sadness, and remind them that Sylvanas is the only one who will give them the chance to overcome their pain. Yet even some of these new priests wonder if they are truly helping their parishioners, or making them more miserable.<br /><br />Sylvanas has consolidated her rule. The Deathguard, the Royal Apothecary Society, and the Church of Shadow pledge her allegiance to her and her alone. They are judged more by loyalty than by results. Many of the First Generation Forsaken in these roles are dead—often from battle, but sometimes by purges—and the more pliable Second Generation now fill their ranks. There is conflict between the two generations. The First Generation understands that necromancy is necessary to sustain their race, but they have not forgotten the horrors they suffered under the Scourge, and cannot easily reconcile themselves to their liberator turning herself into a slaver. Reminders of how cruel the living can be tend to keep them loyal, but there is less enthusiasm in this group.<br /><br />Venomspite is the last Forsaken holding in Northrend. A number of disenchanted First Generation undead now live here, seeking to liberate what few Scourge drones they can find. Though they still serve the Banshee Queen, they want to make sure that the Forsaken never completely forget the strength of their own wills.<br /><br /><b>Forsaken Expatriates</b><br /><br />The tyranny of Sylvanas has forced dissidents to leave or to stay quiet. Those who chose the former option can be found in a number of places. Some of them continue to profess loyalty to the Horde and Sylvanas, but others are independent or even in opposition to their former master.<br /><br />The majority of expatriates live in the Kalimdor Horde. These Forsaken often left prior to the Fourth War. Many identify with the cultures of the Kalimdor Horde and have become respected (though not necessarily popular) warriors and scouts. They typically remain loyal to the warchief and prefer to spend their time with the living.<br /><br />A handful of researchers and apothecaries seek shelter in Quel'thalas. Some of them secretly work on a cure for undeath. This is a dangerous endeavor. Sylvanas is a member of a Great House, and Quel'thalas will take her side in any serious dispute. Other Forsaken have found sanctuary in Dalaran, and have renounced the Horde in order to gain the Kirin Tor's protection.<br /><br />Those Forsaken who still follow the Light may join the Argent Crusade. Those who do are considered enemies of the state, and they are proud to count themselves as such. Other pious Forsaken have fled all the way to Shattrath, where they have formed a small religious community in the Lower City. Sylvanas is indifferent to the Shattrath Forsaken.<br /><br />The anarchic early days of the Forsaken gave rise to a number of undead artists and intellectuals who enjoyed the free-wheeling atmosphere. Frustrated by the increasingly totalitarian nature of Sylvanas's rule, these undead have resettled in Booty Bay and Gadetzan. Most of them still consider themselves to be nominal members of the Horde but their loyalties are questionable at best. However, Sylvanas realizes that their hedonistic nature means they are unlikely to be a serious threat. She keeps an eye on them. She does not worry about them.<br /><br />No one knows how many disguised Forsaken live incognito throughout the Alliance. Some are spies. Others do this to pretend that they are still alive.<br /><br /><b>Quel'thalas</b><br /><br />Quel'thalas escaped the Fourth War and Legionfall largely unscathed. Though the purge of Dalaran was frustrating, it proved little more than a minor setback. The Sin'dorei kingdom is now a beacon of peace, order, and prosperity within the weakened Horde.<br /><br />This, in turn, has forced the Sin'dorei to re-think their own position within the Horde. The alliance with the orcs and trolls never sat particularly well with the Great Houses of Silvermoon. Though Lady Windrunner will always be respected, none of the blood elves can deny that she is a troubling figure to have as warchief. The Sin'dorei have never stopped talking to their Quel'dorei cousins. Many of them share bloodlines, or serve the same Great Houses. Elven families have existed for millennia—the Horde and Alliance are mere blinks of the eye in comparison.<br /><br />The government has been restructured to prevent any future monarch from single-handedly bringing Quel'thalas to the brink of ruin. Lor'themar must consult with Great House representatives and the heads of powerful institutions before he makes a decision. Several new houses have been elevated to Great House status, both to reward performance and to fill in the gap left by those Great Houses annihilated in the Third War. It's an unprecedented move, but this is an unprecedented time.<br /><br />The inclusion of Suramar seemed to fulfill an impossible dream. Houses splintered by the Sundering could renew their bonds after millennia of separation. Unfortunately, the reality turned out to be far more complicated. The Sin'dorei pride themselves on tradition, but encountering Suramar forced them to acknowledge just how far they had strayed from the old Highborne ways... and that their straying was often for the better.<br /><br /><b>Suramar</b><br /><br />Ensorcelled for ten-thousand years, the spires of Suramar once seemed to exist outside of time. Indeed the notion of time</span>—with its implication of change—has long been anathema to the Nightborne, who'd believed their once-beloved grand magistrix had forever removed their city from its vagaries.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now revealed to the world, the Nightborne must accept that the permanence they had so enjoyed was never more than a myth. Until Legionfall, Suramar had been a bit of the old Kaldorei Empire preserved in amber. There, noble houses curried for the favor of Grand Magistrix Elisande. Their own caprice reflected her own, the lives of subordinates treated as bargaining chips or destroyed on a whim. The Nightborne lived lives of constant terror, knowing that a minor sartorial error or misspoken word might condemn them to an eternity of scorn. It is little wonder that so many chose suicide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Many of the Great Houses collapsed with Elisande's reign. Cadet branches and lesser houses now scramble to fill the power vacuum, citing ancient bloodlines as justification. The chaos of the final years are keenly remembered, but even through that the old ways offer a perverse comfort. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Sin'dorei do what they can to shepherd the Nightborne into a more stable system. Many of the Nightborne are shocked at the obligations that the Sin'dorei Great Houses place upon themselves to aid and assist their subordinates and retainers</span>—it seems nearly blasphemous that those closest to long-lamented Azshara should be in any way beholden to those lesser than them.</div>
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Yet the results are harder to deny. Quel'thalas knows how to survive, and Suramar must learn.</div>
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Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-19198706183700697132020-04-22T10:58:00.003-07:002020-08-04T17:19:16.685-07:00The Horde, Post-Legionfall: Kalimdor<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Horde stood on the brink of ruination after the Fourth War. Garrosh's dream had brought only destruction. The Alliance did not destroy the Horde... but everyone knows they could have if they'd truly wanted to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Warchief Vol'jin kept the Horde going. An experienced warrior and canny politician, he restored the trolls to their place without being cruel to the orcs who'd so wronged his people. Like Thrall, he understood that the Horde's only hope existed in being powerful enough to deter Alliance aggression—though the Horde might not be able to win, it could at least inflict enough pain to make the Alliance think twice. Most of his efforts went toward securing food and other resources. The wealth of Stranglethorn helped make up for the loss of Ashenvale.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Horde's depleted state limited the troops and materiel they could send to the Broken Shore. The debacle there did more to hurt the Alliance. Similarly, the Legion rarely attacked the Horde directly, and Horde partisans proved quite useful in the Broken Isles and later on Argus. While the Alliance lost power during the Legion Invasion, the Horde gained back a bit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The loss of Vol'jin came as a harsh blow. No one is entirely sure what motivated him to make Sylvanas Windrunner his successor. However, she has surprised the Horde by mostly continuing her predecessor's policies. Though she rules the Forsaken as a tyrant, she largely allows the other Horde races to manage their affairs as they see fit. She is not popular, but most acknowledge she turned out to be a lot better than they expected.</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Her critics are quiet, but worried. Many of those who oppose Sylvanas also opposed Garrosh. Under Hellscream's reign they knew that most of the Horde secretly shared their hatred of the man. Though few outside of the Forsaken truly love Sylvanas, almost no one hates her, which might allow her a dangerous leeway...</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The orcs are a shattered people. Thrall's message of liberation and Garrosh's exhortations to conquest ring hollow in the ears of hungry children and old warriors who have seen too many battles. Over and over again the orcs ask themselves what went wrong in the Fourth War, and there are dozens of different answers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some find scapegoats. They blame trollish treachery or Forsaken cowardice. Garrosh remains their true warchief even in death. The most extreme gathered together in the Blood of Heroes, a terrorist organization that assassinates supporters of the new regime. A failed attempt on Vol'jin's life resulted in a backlash almost wiped out the group, though there are still dozens of them in the shadows.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some seek new answers. These orcs saw the drive for honor and glory bring ruination and they wonder why they should be asked to do these things. What does honor even mean? For the Horde, it too often seemed to be little more than a label. Now, aggressive orcs, often of the generation that came of age in Kalimdor, proclaim new definitions of honor in the streets of Orgrimmar, arguing with their brethren. Such arguments often turn into epic brawls where friendships are forged and deep hatreds sown. But they always start with words, and perhaps some of these words need to be spoken.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But most orcs simply try to get by in life. It is no small thing to grow food in the dusty soil of Durotar and the Barrens. The peons have become more confident. The Horde's conflicts always relied on peon labor, and they have a newfound understanding of their own importance. Some peons were drafted as warriors during the Fourth War's closing months, but never received the respect they were due. They do not accept this scorn quietly. More and more peons are demanding respect, showing the scars they've earned in the Horde's innumerable wars.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Shamans remember how Thrall charged them with the spiritual leadership of the orcish people, and few can deny how thoroughly they have failed. The orcish past seems to offer few answers. So many of the great heroes were warriors far crueler than even Garrosh. Some shamans argue that the context of those times justified the actions of the traditional heroes, while others instead seek new heroes who show honor in restraint and mercy. Some have found this in the partisans of the Broken Isles, though that number includes plenty of brutes as well.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-family: inherit;">The Mag'har</b></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mag'har life has changed little. The formidable orcish warriors of Nagrand still follow their ancestral ways, a clear reminder of how orcs lived before demonic corruption. Their braves continue battling the other peoples of Nagrand in an endless war that no side can ever truly win. Once seen as paragons of orcish virtue, the larger Horde mostly leaves the Mag'har to their own devices. The pressing need to defend Garadar means that only a handful of Mag'har go to Azeroth.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Dragonmaw Clan had been in conflict with the Alliance Wildhammers for so long that the Fourth War meant little more than a brief increase in violence. Now disarmed and forced into peace, the Dragonmaw orcs wonder when the next warchief will lead them into battle. Some of the orcs in the main Horde find inspiration in their impetuousness, though others view the Dragonmaw as a warning of what orcs can let themselves become.</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The orcs of Stonard spent much of the Fourth War under Alliance occupation. As the oldest still-inhabited orcish city in Azeroth, it has some symbolic value. Life under human occupation was bleak, though Stonard's residents typically had their needs met. Yet the human guards often looked the other way when Gilnean partisans emerged from the pitch-black swamp nights to wreak havoc on the orcs. A human constable, working with an orc shaman, did finally bring these Gilneans to justice.</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Suspicious of the Alliance and of the Horde, the orcs of Stonard focus on growing their own strength. There is little opportunity in the encircled city, so many of their young ones seek their fortunes as freelancers and partisans. The Broken Isles proved lucrative for many.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-family: inherit;">The Darkspear Tribe</b></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The trolls suffered greatly during the Fourth War but they emerged as victors. Garrosh had never made any secret of his scorn for the trolls, and Darkspear warriors were often assigned the most dangerous tasks while the people of the tribe languished in privation. Now, the trolls find themselves in charge. Though a Forsaken is warchief, the western Horde still relies on troll and goblin administrators. They ensure that the roads stay in repair, that taxes are collected, and that food reaches its destination.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's quite a jump from the tribal world that is still within living memory for most trolls. The Darkspear claim that they are simply tapping into ancestral wisdom—after all, the trolls brought civilization to the world. Empire-building is in their blood. But the truth is a bit grubbier. The majority of the Darkspear Tribe still lives the way it always has. Only a handful of bright young minds, trained by elves and goblins, act as the Western Horde's brain trust. This clerisy is badly overstretched and most young trolls are still brought up to be hunters, fishers, or farmers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Darkspear Tribe has become something of a super-tribe. Many of its members hail from defunct tribes like the Skullsplitter or the Gurubashi. Those without Darkspear ancestry are relegated to second class membership. Men from these tribes find it almost impossible to marry, unless they can bring in women from their home villages. The best opportunities are often closed to the children of these immigrants—though most would rather farm cassava melons under the Darkspear protection than take their chances in the Stranglethorn wilderness.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The obstacles to integration exacerbate the trolls' problems with intellectual capital. Yet tribe is family, and how can family really accept someone who is not related?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wealth has started to come in for the Darkspears. Plantations in Stranglethorn have been re-established, and their goods are sold all over the world. Incense is burned on the altars of new stone temples and the richest Darkspear headmen dream of one day making the Echo Isles a city to rival Darza'alor. Indeed, Zandalar's diminishment has increasingly made the Darkspear seem to be the leader of troll kind. A united troll empire is far off, but could become a great power that would no longer even need the Horde.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Horde almost forgot about the Revantusk Tribe during the Fourth War. Prizing aggression, the Revantusk struck against their rival forest tribes, conquering many. Some of the Revantusk fancy themselves as the Darkspear of the north but they show little of the reason and caution displayed by their jungle cousins. Defeated forest tribes are treated as chattel. Horde officials suspect that it's only a matter of time before the enslaved forest trolls exploded in a paroxysm of violence, but no one has any real idea how to solve this.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-family: inherit;">The United Tauren Tribes</b></b></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The United Tauren Tribes behold the war's aftermath with bemusement. Nearly all of the chieftains and shamans knew that Garrosh's war could only end in misery, but felt they had no choice but to honor the debt they owed to the orcs. Now that this debt has been honored, and Tauren lands are scarred by war, they wonder how much they still owe to the Horde. No one wishes to leave, but the United Tauren Tribes are increasingly inclined to keep their own counsel, and they appreciate that Warchief Sylvanas appears to respect this wish.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">More troubling than the war is the fact that the world has changed beyond imagining. The Tauren once believed that the Horde would give them the chance to roam the plains of their ancestors, free of centaurs or quilboars. Yet the plains are no longer as big as they once were. Orcish farms take up more and more land in the Barrens, limiting the space the Tauren can use for their herds and shrinking the amount of game. Though the Tauren have ventured into agriculture, they do not yet have the means to become efficient at it, nor do they want to be bound by agricultural plots.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Older Tauren wonder if they have exchanged a quick downfall at centaur hands for a much slower one beneath the wheels of Horde progress. The spirits do not offer many answers, though plenty languish under the sprawling orcish farms of the Northern Barrens, or in the stone and steel of Orgrimmar. The Earthmother loves all Her children, but is Her love really so great as to transcend tribe? The new priests and Sunwalkers say that this is how it must be, but the wise ones shake their heads.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The new faith of the Light is shared cautiously within the United Tauren Tribes. Its practitioners say that the Tauren have always worshiped the Light—that this is seen in how all in a tribe care for one another. Now, they just have a better understanding of the subject. But the traditional Tauren point out that the Earthmother is what is real and all around. She is not words from a book or obscure points of theology. And the Sunwalkers listen and think, since there is nothing holy about ignoring one's elders. But neither can they forget what they have seen in dreams and visions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the meantime, there are stories to tell and songs to sing. These are strange days but the Earthmother will abide beyond them. Orcs and trolls depend on their cities. If nature wipes them clean, the Tauren will remember the old ways, and will re-teach them to their misguided friends.</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And the world keeps changing.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-family: inherit;">The Shu'halo'hanok (Forest Tauren)</b></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The reclusive Tauren of Feralas have been pushed to the limits of their patience. The Horde and the United Tauren Tribes have brought chaos, refugees, and strange spirits. They started a war against the elves which the Shu'halo'hanok had no desire to pursue. The forest Tauren now seek to limit their involvement. The spirits of the forest have always provided shelter, and they will do so again. Or so forest Tauren hope.</span></span></div></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The floods of the Cataclysm have forever changed the Thousand Needles. Though the tribes here miss the old days, they know there is opportunity in the crashing seas. Food is easier to come by than it was before and the deluge forever destroyed the centaur clans that plagued them in the past. Tauren boats now brave the treacherous tides while their fliers soar between the mesas. More than any other group of Tauren, these tribes welcome the new technologies brought by goblins and gnomes. Some have even improved upon the basic designs, reminding the world that though the Shu'halo rarely train as engineers, they seem to have a curious knack for the subject.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Taunka tribes of Northrend focus on slowly regaining their strength. The Scourge harrowed their people, and only a few tribes survived. But the borders of Northrend are hardening, and it will be more difficult for these hunters and herders to live the ways that their ancestors did. The Horde can only provide limited help, but for now, it is all that the taunka can get.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The mighty Highmountain Tauren of the Broken Isles may offer a preview of what's in store for the United Tauren Tribes. While the Kalimdor Tauren once roamed across their sprawling continent, the Highmountain Tauren had always been limited to the wooded slopes and deep ravines of their homeland.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a result, their settlements became permanent, houses of wood and hide set up on foundations of sturdy stone. The tribes are no longer family: they are more akin to states, with the stratification that entails. Few farmers would dare question a warrior, and warriors obey their chieftains</span>—all obey the spirits and the words of those who hear them<span style="font-family: inherit;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Though they acknowledge the spirit world, each tribe will show strong preference for the spirits of their particular land. This is not selfishness</span>—for no Tauren is selfish. But this intense loyalty to particular spirits is how the sons and daughters of Highmountain show their loyalty and obligation to hearth and kin.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, they are still Tauren. Those of Highmountain care for those within the tribe (even if inter-tribal war, almost unheard of in Kalimdor, is known to occur in Highmountain). They hear the spirits and obey</span>—even if a tribe will usually only listen to its own spirits. Though the shaman-chief of the Highmountain Tribe has technical authority over all other tribes, this is more true in word than in action. Even the Highmountain Tauren are uncomfortable with great central authority.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some among the Kalimdor Tauren see the ways of Highmountain as an effective compromise. Others view them as a dead end.</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-family: inherit;">The Bilgewater Cartel</b></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Trade Prince Gallywix claims he nearly went bankrupt funding the Fourth War. This isn't quite true, but the coffers of the Bilgewater Cartel are definitely in paltry shape. This just means the goblins must work even harder to break even. Goblins usually enjoy a challenge, but many are grumbling. The ups and downs of life are one thing, but the brutality of war was quite another.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bilgewater soldiers learned to protect their buddies out on the front and they don't like being set against each other upon their return. Some of these old soldiers are organizing and creating secret companies within the cartel, offering goods and services at the prices they think they should get. What they do is technically illegal—Gallywix always gets a cut—but these clandestine businesses are good at what they do. And they're tough enough that bruisers think twice before tangling with them.</span></span></div></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The goblin shamans have also been changed. Many have seen the devastation of Hyjal, and realize there is a limit to how much the natural world will accept. They now speak of long-term profits that can come from a solid relationship with the spirits, but few listen to them. As is so often the case, a goblin's best friend is anyone from another race, and these shamans head to Orgrimmar or Thunder Bluff to learn more about how they can secure spiritual profits over a period of decades rather than weeks.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Horde taxes have always been onerous. While Garrosh levied them for war, Vol'jin and Sylvanas levy them for peace. It's not a burden that the Bilgewater goblins, already kept on the brink of penury by Gallywix's fees, enjoy paying. Many cannot afford to, and take great measures to keep their earnings secret (sometimes helped by the veteran companies). Other goblins, loyal to the Horde and not the trade prince, experiment with new taxation methods and figure out the best way to collect.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The Forest Hozen</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
They will be discussed in a separate entry on Pandaria.</div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></div>
</div>
Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-10790689157564921062020-04-21T12:19:00.002-07:002020-04-23T11:41:59.877-07:00The Alliance, Post-Legionfall: Kalimdor<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">Darnassus</span></b><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">The Kaldorei look at the Alliance, and wonder if any of it
was worth it. Eastern Ashenvale lies in ruins, and the rapacious goblins
plunder Azshara. Where were the dwarves during the Fourth War? They mostly hid
in fortresses—but what can one expect from a people who wrench rivers into
unnatural shapes and rip the lifeblood out of mountains?</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">More than any other Alliance race, the Kaldorei were
frustrated with the conclusion of the Fourth War. The Alliance gave precious
little aid and then had the temerity to ask the elves to help the Horde
rebuild. The Legion's invasion, and the culpability of Suramar, should have
warned the world that the arcane can never truly be trusted. But once again,
this was ignored. The younger races rush headlong into magic and technology.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">In reaction, the Kaldorei have turned farther inward. Many left the towns and cities to reconnect with Elune. Isolated
anchorages now dot the slopes of Mount Hyjal. A new conservatism dominates.
Kaldorei mages find that they are rarely welcome in their own lands, and many
have left for friendlier places. Worshippers now see Elune as a goddess of the
hunt, and leave fresh kills on her altars so that their arrows may find their
marks. This hardened faith sees Azeroth as the only true reality, the other
worlds of the cosmos pale reflections of its glory.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Those night elves who disagree often find themselves roaming
the larger world. These Kaldorei will remind their brethren that Horde,
Alliance, and neutral races all rallied to the defense of Mount Hyjal and the
restoration of the Emerald Dream. Though only some of them are druids, they
often lend their aid to heal lands wounded by magic or fel corruption. Nature
is not Elune's gift to the Kaldorei but Her will imposed upon all peoples, and
indeed, all worlds.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">And these same venturesome Kaldorei go to the Eastern
Kingdoms and look at the smoke-scarred sky, at the towns that grow ever bigger
and noisier and brighter, and wonder about the future. Elves inclined to shun
technology usually stay in northern Kalimdor. Others simply prepare themselves
to ameliorate the damage.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">The Exodar</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">The Draenei always had faith in their mission, but deep down,
few believed they would live to see it finished. Now that it has, they are at a
loss as to their next step.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">The daily rituals of work and worship still define life
within the Exodar's crystalline hallways. The Legion's deadliest incursion
occurred here but the Draenei have repaired most of the damage. The Most Holy
Light still directs their efforts yet there is some debate as to how it should
best be applied. Many believe that it is their duty to uplift the other races,
starting with the Alliance. The Draenei were at first were enthusiastic
supporters of the Humble Fellowships spreading through human lands, but were
horrified when they discovered that charlatans and abusers ran some of these
congregations. Since then, the Draenei have been cautious. They realize that
their own people only transformed under the direct guidance of the Naaru. The
humans, who are at a lesser stage of development, will need time (millennia,
probably) before they can attain a truly holy society. The dwarves are a little
bit closer, the gnomes a little bit farther away, the Gilneans </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="color: black;">considerably</span></i><span style="color: black;"> farther away,
and the Draenei don't really know where to place the Kaldorei.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Nor have the Draenei ignored the Horde. However, direct help
is difficult. Of the Horde races, only the Tauren seem at all receptive to the
Draenic message and their version of the Light bears little resemblance to the
standard. Where the Draenei do help is in generous donations. They take great
honor in being able to help the orcs who once slaughtered them, for what is
holier than forgiveness? It is only through peace and reconciliation that the
orcs will one day be able to turn their considerable energies to a constructive
task.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">All Draenei agree that Azeroth and Outland are the homes for
their people. Argus is left to the Krokuun, though researchers occasionally
brave Mac'aree to search for useful knowledge (or to destroy that knowledge which
is malign). The sight of Mac'aree, so oddly preserved, shook those few
Draenei who were born on Argus. Through this they remembered a life before the
Holy Light, one where the Draenei decided their own fate. Sargeras and
Kil'jaeden are proof that such selfishness can only end in woe, but was there
not some beauty and worth in those old citadels?</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">The Lightforged also troubled the Draenei.
Here was a society beyond them in holiness. What Draenei are to humans, the
Lightforged are to Draenei. And with this comparison, some Draenei look at the
Lightforged and wonder if that's really what they wish to become. Life is a
holy journey, but the destination seems so consumed with love for all that it
feels love for no <i>one</i>.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">The Lightforged</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">The Lightforged are Draenei who have given themselves wholly
to the Most Holy Light. Unmarred by hesitation or uncertainty, they never hold
back in their pursuit of the greater good. It is this that enabled them to
carry on the war against the Legion for so long. Though countless of their
comrades died, they always marched forward, willing to accept any personal
sacrifice in order to spread the Holy Light. The majority of the Lightforged
continue fighting the innumerable splinter armies of the Burning Legion, but
some have settled on Azeroth.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Azeroth is the toughest challenge they have ever faced. Now
they must walk with people who live as individuals. Even the regular Draenei
seem awfully fond of their friends—should not all sentient beings be held in
equal love? Many of the Lightforged turn their attentions to the Horde, which
they see as a potential threat. However, they will not strike unless they are
struck first. Any amount of pain is acceptable in order to fulfill the Light,
and the Light's triumph is a historical inevitability. It is difficult for them
to speak with members of other races, who each seem so consumed by
idiosyncratic and individual concerns. In learning, they may learn more than
they are prepared to.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">The Broken</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">More and more of the Broken are leaving the Exodar. They
weary of the constant discipline and sharing. Around them is a strange and
vibrant world with new peoples and frontiers—why should they not explore it?
The Draenei respect the right of the Broken to leave, but they are troubled by
it. Azeroth's many temptations dig deep.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Plenty of the Broken remain in Draenic lands, of course. They
work and worship and seek grace in their piety. But the Draenei no longer enjoy
the authority they once did. Humans and dwarves and others have come to the
Exodar, and told the Broken about the outside world.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Azeroth's Broken are spread across the globe, sometimes
alone, sometimes in groups. Their strong bodies and indomitable spirits make
them formidable laborers and guards, and their insatiable curiosity has driven
some into more scholarly pursuits. Memories of their Draenic past grow more and
more distant and there is now a new generation that has come of age in
Azeroth. If they are broken, they do not feel it.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">The Kurenai</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">Those Broken who remain in Outland's Nagrand live much as they have
since contact was reestablished. The trials of their violent land have
bolstered their faith. Though they fell prey to corruption, they might still be
redeemed through faith. Draenic priests channel the Kurenai's occasional
aggression into constructive pursuits, but they must still defend themselves
against ogres, other Broken tribes, and the Mag'har.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">The failure of the Ashtongue Deathsworn to carve out a home
in Shadowmoon Valley proves the wisdom of the Draenic ways. While the Broken of
Azeroth might doubt, the Kurenai will not.</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">Pearlfin Jinyu</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">They will be discussed in a separate entry on Pandaria.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">The High Elves</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">The long-suffering Quel'dorei are still spread out across the
Alliance. Their talent and skill have enabled most to do quite well, but a
homeland still eludes them. The House bonds with the blood elves have never been
forgotten, not even during the darkest days of the Fourth War. The Quel'dorei
government-in-exile is based in Stormwind City, which also hosts a large exile
population. Other population centers include Gnomeregan, Dalaran, and among the
Wildhammer dwarves of the Twilight Highlands.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">The Quel'dorei have taken responsibility for the mysterious
void elves who so recently sought shelter in the Alliance. Culturally, the few dozen Ren'dorei tend to take after the Quel'dorei in most respects</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><b><span style="color: black;">Allerian Stronghold</span></b><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">This remote town is a sovereign member of the Alliance. Time
has been kind to Allerian Stronghold. Its location in Outland let it avoid the
Cataclysm and the Fourth War. Though rugged, it is by most accounts a wonderful
place in which to live so long as one doesn't go too deep into the forest.
Allerian Stronghold also has an interesting demographic trend. If followed, it
will be the first known majority half-elf community.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
</span><span style="color: black;">Though they know Alleria Windrunner has returned, she has not
yet had time to visit her namesake town. Outland is pretty far away.</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<br />Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-38177097541629072462020-04-20T12:23:00.003-07:002020-04-25T01:11:04.601-07:00The Alliance, Post-Legionfall: The Eastern Kingdoms<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<img alt="Alliance Crest.png" height="320" src="https://gamepedia.cursecdn.com/wowpedia/d/da/Alliance_Crest.png" width="292" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>Garrosh's defeat proved the Alliance to be the most powerful force on Azeroth. The Scourge and Twilight's Hammer have both been destroyed, the Legion is in chaos, and the Horde can only limp along with Alliance assistance. So everything should be going well.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />But the Alliance's grand position belies a number of serious internal problems. Without any major threats, the Alliance no longer has as much of a reason to stay together. Azeroth benefits from the Alliance's hegemonic peace, but monitoring the entire globe (and Outland) is an expensive proposition. The Alliance has already spent a great deal in recent conflicts, and even the dwarven coffers have their limits.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Most of the Legion's incursions hit Alliance territory, since they were a more obvious target. Defending armies typically responded quickly, but there were enough destroyed villages and lost lives to shake faith in Alliance leadership.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Khaz Modan</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Still the heart of the Alliance, Khaz Modan is in some ways the most heavily afflicted by the Alliance's larger problems. Khaz Modan spent a fortune funding Stormwind's armies, and accept that Stormwind paid them back in human blood. Some dwarves have suggested adulterating the currency to create mild inflation, but there is great cultural resistance to this concept.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Aid to the Horde has been a polarizing decision. Khaz Modan is the biggest contributor, but it's deeply unpopular within the kingdom. How much more, they ask, must the dwarves give? Supporters argue that a peaceful Horde is worth the cost, but others see it as money wasted on an enemy.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Khaz Modan finished repairing the Stonewrought Dam a year before Legionfall. This has mostly been a success. Loch Modan is returning to its former prosperity, and lost agricultural land in the Wetlands is being reclaimed. The decrease in food prices comes as a great relief. The new dam also has turbines which provide reliable electricity to Dun Morogh, Loch Modan, and the Wetlands. The Bronzebeard lands have never been so bright.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />The Bronzebeards and Wildhammers have maintained good relations for a long time, but there's still some tension. The majority of the Wildhammer Clan actually lives in the Twilight Highlands, acknowledging the clan thane and paying occasional tribute instead of taxes (the thane's support base is in Aerie Peak). Now the freeholders and farmers grumble about the taxes levied by Ironforge's collectors. A tax revolt in Kirthaven, occurring shortly after the Legion's defeat, took Khaz Modan by surprise. Thankfully, it was resolved without any bloodshed worse than a few broken noses (and both sides acknowledged that it was one helluva brawl). The underlying issue, however, has not been resolved and may grow worse.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />The Dark Iron Empire has been considerably more challenging. With the Dark Irons, Khaz Modan has inherited a ruined landscape inhabited by a dispirited and demoralized people. It will be generations before the Dark Irons are brought up to speed. Many dwarves (particularly the Wildhammers) resent having to pay money to uplift a force that was so recently hostile to them.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Ironforge itself does what it can to keep the Dwarven Peace across Azeroth. They committed many troops to the Broken Shore, and suffered the bulk of the losses. Khaz Modan practices universal conscription, so the deaths were felt across all levels of society. This actually helped create a sense of solidarity within the Bronzebeard lands (universal conscription has not yet been extended to the Dark Irons and Wildhammers).<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />More controversial was the realization that the Titan Pantheon had been destroyed by the Burning Legion. This sent shock waves of grief throughout much of the Bronzebeard lands. Many dwarves lamented that they would never truly meet their makers. Conservative priests used the Pantheon's destruction as a warning not to drift from the Light. But others believed that the fall of the Titans meant the dwarves were intended to continue the Titans work. Indeed, that the dwarves (along with gnomes and humans) should form the nucleus of a new Pantheon to set order to the universe. Said order would not have much room for orcs or other races.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The Dark Iron Protectorate</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Used to slavishly following the whims of their emperor and Ragnaros, the Dark Irons are a people without a clear purpose. All of the old social bonds existed within the state. Now that the state is gone, many Dark Irons scam and cheat each other to a degree that even goblins might find disturbing. Radicalism ferments in the magma-litten tunnels of Shadowforge City. Impoverished and demoralized Dark Irons seek a new meaning to life. Shadowforge was one of the few places where Kil'jaeden's attempt to create new cults actually gained real traction (resulting in a violent riot).<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />The Bronzebeards attempted to bring justice to the worst perpetrators of Dark Iron tyranny, but this proved unsuccessful. The old empire's brutality was so all-pervasive that a significant amount of the population was culpable in some way. Many of the worst perpetrators were associated with Moira Thaurissan, who continues to protect some of them. Now, the Bronzebeards are trying to reconcile the Dark Irons with one another, but it's been a long and slow process.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />The Thorium Brotherhood made a bid for power after the empire's fall but were violently put down by the Bronzebeards. Their terrorists still lurk in the burning hills, inflicting brutal vigilante justice on officials of the old empire.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Wildhammer shamans and Kaldorei druids have been brought in to restore life to the Searing Gorge, and they've enjoyed some success. There region will always be harsh and volcanic, but it can be improved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The Frostborn</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Northrend holds many perils, but it is safer than it was when the Lich King ruled. Dauntless Frostborn adventurers explore the frozen wastes to reestablish the old trade routes. Times past saw the Frostborn as skilled smiths and craftsmen who lent their powerful tools to kings and chiefs across the continent. Now, they must sharpen their skills and understand the new technologies of the outside world.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Gnomeregan</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>Things are finally looking up for the gnomes. Gnomeregan has been completely reclaimed. Though the gnomes were rattled by news of the Pantheon's destruction, they adapted to this better than the dwarves. The main controversy is with High Tinker Mekkatorque's continued tenure. Though all gnomes are grateful for his leadership, he has occupied the position far longer than any previous high tinker. Many now think that he's using various emergencies (the Fourth War, the Legion's invasion) as an excuse. The gnomes argue about this a lot. They argue a lot in general.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Gnomeregan has been one of the more enthusiastic donors of Horde aid money. Gnomish scholars have long been in communication with their counterparts in the Horde, leading to a more cosmopolitan attitude. It also helps that the current incarnation of the Horde has never actually attacked gnomish territory (what little of it there is).<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Stormwind</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>Stormwind is still the bulwark of humanity yet has failed to solve many of its problems. The population is exhausted by constant war, both within and without the kingdom. The government is nearly bankrupt, and continues to pour money into the hardscrabble colonization of the Borean Tundra. The Borean Tundra has at least been somewhat effective as a pressure valve for veterans, who flock to the icy frontier.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Stormwind has always been a divided kingdom. The poor have only gotten poorer during the long years of war and chaos. Many of them look to the seemingly utopian society of the Draenei, and wonder why Stormwind, which follows the Holy Light, cannot be the same. Countless "Humble Fellowships" have sprung up through the kingdom. These are small societies seeking to emulate Draenic communalism and act as an example for the rest of humanity.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />It's an awkward situation. Many of the Humble Fellowships are genuine, and do good work to help the impoverished and uncertain. Others are led by criminals and scoundrels. The commitment displayed by the Fellowships makes the Stormwind Church look hypocritical. Likewise, the Fellowships sometimes come devolve into cults. But it's one thing to crack down on a cult that worships demons or strange gods—quite another that seems to do a better job of following the Holy Light than the church itself. The Draenei themselves do not actively sponsor or support the Humble Fellowships, though they do remind Stormwind that a society that claims to follow the Light must share its joy with all people, not just the noble and wealthy.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Of course, the lifestyles practiced by the Humble Fellowships only work in small communities of volunteers. You'd almost have to be a tyrant to apply them to an entire human kingdom.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Other poor Stormwinders prefer a more aggressive route. They hear of how the worgen curse leveled Gilnean social boundaries and wonder why the same cannot be done to Stormwind. Stormwind has increasingly adopted measures to track and monitor worgen, which has frustrated some Gilneans (most Gilneans do not want to spread the curse, though an avid minority seeks to bring more humans into the pack). Genn's indebtedness to Stormwind has kept him quiet about this matter for the time being.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Westfall is slowly returning to prosperity though the Shattering has permanently ruined portions of this once fertile land. Improved farming techniques and greater agriculture in the Elwynn River Valley have prevented starvation, but Westfall's future may lie in coastal trade rather than tilling the land. Most of Duskwood languishes under a mysterious curse. Darkshire and its environs, at least, have returned to some level of normalcy.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Happily, the Redridge Mountains are doing quite well. So too is the Swamp of Sorrows. The kings of Stormwind have long enjoyed the support of the Ralmanni ethnic minority (the original human inhabitants of Duskwood and the Swamp of Sorrows). As a reward, Varian created a semi-autonomous state called Ralmanaj that covers most of the swamp lands. Ralmanaj must follow Stormwind's foreign policy, and pay some taxes, but can otherwise run its own affairs.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Stormwind does not contribute to the Horde and neither do any of the other Allied human governments.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Stromgarde</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Stromgarde's future is still uncertain. Though they have reclaimed much of the Arathi Highlands, their remaining population is scattered throughout the world. Danath Trollbane is an effective leader faced with the daunting prospect of rebuilding a kingdom from scratch. The Forsaken are just beyond the wall, and the Stromgarders know that they are too weak to mount an effective defense against any serious invasion.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Kirovar</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>The Kirovi of Northrend have fared better than Stromgarde. Their population is emerging from the forests and tundra, and the city of Paskaron (in Dragonblight) has been reclaimed. Survivors of Arthas's expedition, who settled in Valgard, have thrown in their lots with the Kirovi, helping in the reconstruction.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Theramore</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>Theramore is defunct as a nation-state. Most survivors moved to Stormwind, embittered at having one home after another taken from them. The farmers who settled in rural Dustwallow have mostly chosen to stay, but they face a marginal existence. They are too far and too poor for the Alliance to really help, and cannot do much against Horde squatters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Stormheim</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span>
The lofty realm of Stormheim remains a sanctuary for the Valarjar. Now that the Lich King is dead and Hel defeated, those vrykul who once served them have been repatriated with the Valarjar, who remained faithful to Odyn.<br />
<br />
After Legionfall, the Valarjar leaders offered to join the Alliance and were avidly accepted. This act both confirmed the Titan heritage of many Alliance races, and served as a mea culpa for the acts of the ancient vrykul, who once tried to exterminate humanity.<br />
<br />
As a race, the vrykul possess no future. They still only give birth to humans, not to more of their own kind. Yet their culture may survive, as vrykul parents now teach their comparatively diminutive offspring the ways of their ancestors.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Gilneas</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></b>The worgen curse has irrevocably changed the Gilnean people. There was time in living memory that a Gilnean noble could assert his authority over commoners without question. Today, one's standing in the pack often matters more than one's heritage. Which isn't to say that pack life always favors commoners. A worgen who is fierce and decisive will do well, regardless of birth. A worgen who is timid will fare poorly, also regardless of birth. It's not so much that the caste system is gone—it just changed.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Some Gilneans shun worgen form, using it only during emergencies. They follow the creed of Gilneas True, and tend to be more conservative. They cling to the old social stratification, but deep down they know it to be a lie. They've all been in worgen form, and have felt the power of the beast within. Some are terrified by it. They see nothing in it of goodness or the Light. Some hate worgen form because they make for poor worgen.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Others embrace the Wolf Rampant. These are Gilneans who are almost always in worgen form. They relish the freedom from old social boundaries. Younger Gilneans tend to prefer the Wolf Rampant.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Genn has ably navigated the new political scene and has rallied both Gilneas True and the Wolf Rampant to his name. Gilneas itself has been returned to its rightful owners, but only Gilneas True seems particularly interested in rebuilding. The Wolf Rampant is happy to roam Kalimdor, rejecting human mores for the more feral Kaldorei conventions. Only a fraction of Gilneas City has been re-occupied, with its inhabitants trying to imitate their old society as best they can, but no longer truly believing in it.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Alone among the Alliance, Gilneas advocates aggressive war against the Horde. They have not forgiven the orcs or the Forsaken. Genn argues that the Fourth War proves he was right to have wanted to exterminate the orcs after the second. Gilnean partisans lurk at the borders of Horde lands, killing travelers and raiding isolated villages. It may only be a matter of time before they kill someone important.</span>Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-41965919807353095252020-04-18T22:40:00.001-07:002020-04-23T11:41:39.092-07:00The Fourth War and Legionfall<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">((Hello everyone. I hope you're all staying safe and healthy in the pandemic.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">First, I'm </span><em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">not </em><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">resuming the travelogue--I no longer play WoW, and don't plan to return. However, on the Space Battles forum, I did make a series of posts outlining what I'd planned for the travelogue's version of Azeroth throughout Mists of Pandaria, Legion, and the Battle for Azeroth. I didn't mention Warlords of Draenor because it really doesn't fit into the travelogue (and neither will Shadowlands, by the looks of it). These won't be written from Destron's perspective, and will instead be general histories.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Since a lot of us are shut in due to the pandemic, and since I've already written these, I figured I'd go ahead and post them here. The first post will be an account of the Fourth War and Legionfall. After this will be examinations of the various nation-states post-Legionfall, and a look at Pandaria's history and philosophy. Finally, it'll finish with an account of the Battle for Azeroth, which differs pretty substantially from what you see in the game.</span></span></div>
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope you enjoy!))</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Fourth War</span></strong></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The warrior ethos of the Horde became its undoing. Though eager to prove himself and his peoples in honorable battle against the Alliance, Garrosh failed to acknowledge one hard truth: that the Horde simply lacked the resources and personnel to continue any kind of sustained war.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Though the Horde blazed past Alliance defenses in the first year, they soon found themselves in a stalemate. Units of orcs and trolls vanished in the forests of Ashenvale, felled by arrows shot from the shadows between trees. An entire generation of Horde warriors perished in the dust of the Southern Barrens. The Forsaken seized Gilneas and what remained of Lordaeron, but the corpses they raised failed to fully replenish their losses.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hunger stalked the streets of Orgrimmar and other Horde cities as the buckling front demanded more and more food from the hardscrabble farms of Durotar and the Northern Barrens. Warchief Garrosh had already alienated many of the Horde's races, and grumbling soon turned to sedition.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Garrosh realized he could not fight indefinitely, and sought secret weapons to turn the tide of the war. Yet the mana bomb that wiped Theramore from all existences only bolstered the Alliance to fight harder.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The opening of the Pandarian Front proved too much for the ailing Horde. By now, most of the Horde's best troops were dead or crippled, forcing them to rely on reserves who fared poorly in this strange new land. The Alliance continued to push the Horde lines farther back, and all but Garrosh's most loyal orcs now questioned his leadership. His desperate attempt to use the malign Sha spirits as a weapon sealed his fate. After the damage done, much of the Horde's remaining military turned against Garrosh and joined the Alliance to shake down Orgrimmar's mighty walls.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Garrosh's trial was quick and decisive. The once-mighty warchief accepted his execution with the stoicism expected of a warrior. Though there are rumors that he escaped into an alternate Draenor, these have never been confirmed and seem far-fetched.</span></span></div>
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<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Aftermath</span></strong></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Vol'jin, of the Darkspear Tribe, assumed the mantle of warchief and surrendered to the Alliance. The Horde was a shell of its former self. The fact that Vol'jin cooperated led the Alliance to be lenient with the Horde. Perhaps they hoped to control him.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Treaty of Orgrimmar ended hostilities between the two factions. The Horde was required to withdraw from Ashenvale, Dustwallow Marsh, the Badlands, and Gilneas. They were permitted to keep Azshara due to the hardship that the goblins of Bilgewater Harbor would have faced in any forced removal, though this decision infuriated the Kaldorei. The Swamp of Sorrows was ceded to the Alliance, though Stonard remained a technically neutral territory. The Dragonmaw Orcs were allowed to stay in the Twilight Highlands so long as they limited their military size.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Warchief Vol'jin focused on rebuilding for the next five years. He knew that the Horde survived only because of Alliance mercy. Some of the Alliance's member nations (Khaz Modan, Gnomeregan, and the Exodar) had even gone so far as to provide support for reconstruction efforts, going by the logic that a prosperous Horde was a peaceful one. Pandaria also aided the Horde, both out of a philosophical preference for balance and because they feared uncontested Alliance hegemony.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Happily, Vol'jin ably navigated the treacherous situation. He purged the Horde of the most rabid Garrosh loyalists while also preventing his own Darkspear Tribe from wreaking punitive vengeance on the orcs who'd so abused them during the Fourth War. The Forsaken proved a more stubborn problem. Lady Sylvanas Windrunner continued to rule the once free undead as a tyrant, and her very existence mocked the Alliance citizens who'd suffered so horribly during her war campaign. Only Alliance exhaustion, and fear of Forsaken biological weapons, had saved Sylvanas from their vengeance.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Decaying Legion</span></strong></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As the world recovered, the Burning Legion fell further to pieces.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Demons are defined by selfishness and treachery. Though this makes them fearsome, it also renders cooperation a difficult proposal at the best of times. The Legion devoted many of its efforts to simply ensuring obedience. Some of this stemmed from the Legion's nihilistic philosophy; they saw the world as so flawed, that any institution arising from the world must also be flawed. If life as a demon is treacherous and painful, it is only because life itself is treacherous and painful. Thus, all the more reason to destroy existence and start anew.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sargeras remained the driving force behind the Burning Legion, but Archimonde and Kil'jaeden did most of the planning. By this point, Sargeras was distant and only Kil'jaeden functioned as any kind of leader. Yet doubts had grown about his ability due to his many failures regarding Azeroth.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1st Failure: Kil'jaeden and Archimonde had tried to seize Azeroth during the War of the Ancients, and they failed. Yet this did not threaten them so very much. Azeroth was hardly the first world to repel a Legion invasion. None had managed more than once. So most demons figured it was only a matter of time.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2nd Failure: Kil'jaeden engineered the Horde and the Scourge to take Azeroth. But in addition to failing, the Third War ended with the death of Archimonde. Never had the demons imagined that one of their greatest leaders (and most effective intimidators) would die in battle. Kil'jaeden blamed underlings, but all knew he bore responsibility for his failure. Many of the more aggressive demons particularly disdained his reliance on manipulation.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">3rd Failure: The Burning Legion not only failed to turn Kael'thas into a lasting asset (his strategic acumen would have been invaluable), they also failed to remove Illidan (a weak and disorganized despot) from power. Capping all that, Kil'jaeden personally led an invasion to Azeroth and was defeated in battle by mortals.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Burning Legion began to disintegrate almost immediately. Millions of warlords peeled off to forge new domains, not beholden to Kil'jaeden or Sargeras. These schismatics almost immediately warred against each other.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Kil'jaeden understood that his only hope was to make one last push and seize Azeroth. The Legion's sheer size meant that, though only a tiny number of demons still served Kil'jaeden, they numbered enough to overwhelm this defiant world. Further, Kil'jaeden took care to utilize better strategies, as he knew that this time, reinforcements could not be guaranteed.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Legionfall</span></strong></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As always, the Burning Legion's efforts started with the sowing of cults and dissension. Yet this proved to be of limited effectiveness. Decades of dealing with demon cults (and the more recent Twilight's Hammer) had made the natives of Azeroth watchful. Many cults were dispersed before they became serious dangers, with even the cult leaders sometimes successfully deprogrammed.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But with no other options, Kil'jaeden initiated a devastating attack on the Broken Shore. The Horde and Alliance both fought back, only to have many of their best troops destroyed. Warchief Vol'jin himself suffered a mortal wound, and for reasons still poorly understood, nominated Sylvanas Windrunner as his successor. Though subsequent events would prove how disastrous this choice was, she did act as an able commander for the Horde during Legionfall.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Almost immediately, the Legion launched probing attacks throughout the homelands of Azeroth's defenders, forcing them to keep many troops on the home front. The Legion's use of portals gave them a distinct logistical advantage.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Unsure where to strike and desperate to defend their population centers, the military forces of the Horde and Alliance could only spare limited forces to the main theater on the Broken Isles. Yet they possessed a secret weapon: partisans.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Independent partisans and militias had shaped the course of the Fourth War. The successful ones often possessed fearsome arms and armor looted from ancient ruins, making them formidable counters to the Burning Legion despite their small numbers. Encouraged by their governments, these partisans landed on the Broken Isles to bring the fight to the demons and proved to be quite effective at this.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To prevent infighting among the partisans, who sometimes despised each other along factional lines, cooperation was encouraged based on particular callings. As an example, the Earthen Ring ensured cooperation among shamans of all nationalities.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This strategy worked. The partisans made steady gains in undoing the efforts of the Burning Legion while the established armies repelled attacks on the homelands. Yet even the most optimistic were surprised by what happened next: a partisan invasion of the Legion's home-world of Argus, supported by none other than the Naaru's Army of Light.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">These partisans achieved the impossible: they slew Kil'jaeden once and for all, imprisoned Sargeras, and established a lasting beachhead on Argus. The cost was high, but in truth, this was another benefit; rancorous partisans had long resisted the peace between the Alliance and Horde, having associated with insurgents and guerrillas in the five years of peace after the Fourth War. The death of so many would likely bolster the fragile and uneasy peace.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Burning Legion remained a threat, but no longer an organized one. Billions upon billions of demons rampaged through the cosmos, led be petty warlords more focused on quarreling with their neighbors than resuming the Burning Crusade. It is unlikely that any demon lord could hope to unite more than a tiny fraction, which itself would inevitably collapse to infighting.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sargeras's final act of spite was to fling his sword into Azeroth. Yet even this proved minor, as the weapon landed in Silithus, harming the vile Qiraji but no one else.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Horde and Alliance paused to take stock of the situation. The Burning Legion that had threatened Azeroth so many times, that had once promised to consume the entire multiverse in hellish flames, had been bested by mortals. </span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yet tensions remained. Though still weaker than the Alliance, the Horde had lost a much smaller portion of its military at the Broken Shore debacle, giving it more of an edge in any possible conflict. And conflict seemed more and more likely, as the Alliance could not tolerate a criminal like Sylvanas occupying the position of warchief.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Though peace reigned, no one could be sure for how much longer.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-59819679221956452722013-06-16T15:56:00.002-07:002013-06-16T15:59:44.436-07:00Epilogue<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent much of the return trip poring over the snapshots Daj’yah had
taken of Zul’gurub, wishing very keenly that I’d been there to see. She was in a much better mood on the
return trip; receiving tribal sanction for her position in Booty Bay came as an
immense relief to her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Mala’ha is still wanting me to start a family there or something. At least the city gives me more choices
than the tribe. Not sure if that
will help, but it’s something.
Besides, she said I had to try; I don’t have to succeed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you want to succeed?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not so sure. Maybe I’m
needing to figure that out before anything else.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lines of mold greeted us when we opened the door to our apartment, green
thickets of the stuff cascading down around a window open to the tropical air.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Who left the window open?” demanded Daj’yah.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Neither of us could remember who was last in the room, so we satisfied
ourselves by blaming the warchief.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The <i>Bay Dispatch </i>had not been
entirely pleased with my request for time off so I volunteered for a week
without pay to make up for it. I
had enough money stored up to pay for the rent, and satisfied myself with
conjuring my own food and drink.
Given Daj'yah's status and ability, the Steamwheedle Cartel had been more
willing to give her the free time (the information and opportunities she
brought back with her served to sweeten the deal).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life resumed as it had before our countryside sojourn, time seeming to
pause in a contented blur of work followed by relaxation. Many nights saw Daj’yah and I simply
reading in the apartment, occasionally reciting a particularly choice passage
but largely enjoying the quiet. We
weren’t total recluses; the city still beckoned with its lights and excitement,
occasionally pulling us out from the Portview Arms to wander its streets,
unburdened by any urgency or destination.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Others drifted in to this pleasant milieu from time to time, Felya being
the most frequent visitor. She
often came by unannounced, telling us the latest about the city’s life, the
endless ups and downs, the novel cabarets that popped into existence only to
vanish the next night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Felya always tried to wheedle us out of the apartment and succeeded
on occasion. Daj’yah and I made an
arrangement for these situations—as someone still alive, she could plead
exhaustion, giving us a quick exit in case Felya’s adventure of the night
turned out to be more involved than expected. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I kept up on news regarding the world, both on and off the job. The Horde stiffened its resolve in
Kalimdor, setting up formidable bulwarks across Ashenvale and the Southern
Barrens. The Horde’s depleted
forces made further advances impossible, but the surviving warriors vowed to
consolidate that which they still held.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, fresh troops and big guns have a way of dislodging even the
most honorable of fighters.
Stormwind’s vanguard had already made landfall in Dustwallow Marsh,
uprooting the few pockets of Horde resistance still in the wilderness. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ugliness emerged from within the Alliance as it inched towards
victory. Though distrustful of the
Horde, the <i>Dispatch</i> did not hesitate
to cover stories of Alliance privateers setting alight the coast of Durotar,
the partisan crews seeing all orcs as fair game. The overstretched Horde navy rarely reacted in time, their
slow ships finding only the bloody aftermath of such attacks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Lordaeronian front remained curiously quiet after the Stromgarders
repelled the last Forsaken advance.
Though some hailed their gallantry as a turning point, cooler heads
pointed out that they’d be unlikely to survive a second full-on assault.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of the delay came from the Alliance’s understandable (if perhaps
overcautious) insistence on securing the shipping lines to Lordaeron’s southern
coast. The Alliance probably
wishes to secure Tol Barad and the Twilight Highlands before launching a
full-scale assault. The former
gives its owner a great deal of air coverage over Gilneas, while the latter
still hosts a large Horde fleet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a peculiar situation that Warchief Hellscream would choose to
invest so heavily in the Twilight Highlands. He is, in effect, acting as a bulwark for the Forsaken even
as his own defenses crumble. His
forces in the east have been effective, but they are unlikely to make any
significant inroads, and will eventually be worn down by Alliance
pressure. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will admit a certain relief at being so distant from such events. Perhaps I should not be so hasty; distance no longer means as much as it did in the past. Nonetheless, I have found a wondrous respite from the Horde's exhausting and self-destructive conflict. I truly do not know if I am still considered a part of that faction. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I am no longer able to travel the world, Booty Bay at least offers a place where the world might travel to me. Nowhere else in Azeroth can one find such a teeming and cosmopolitan multitude, free to talk and to trade as they see fit. One needs only to walk down the street to see visitors from a hundred different lands both on and beyond our world. No one here cares that there are no eyes in my face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no such thing as a perfect place, and Booty Bay is still rife with the sin, callousness, and vice of Steamwheedle society. For now, in the company of friends, I am content with its imperfections.<br />
<br />
*********<br />
<br />
((Thank you again for sticking with me through these entries. It's been a great deal of fun, but I simply have to prioritize other matters.<br />
<br />
Again, for those who would like to read the unpublished Eastern Kingdoms material, please email me at destron@live.com. The content will cover the Tainted Scar and most of Stormwind, though it does end quite abruptly.<br />
<br />
I will continue to write, but will focus on stories that I can publish. In case you missed the earlier update, you can find my first published work here, at <a href="http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue526/age_reception1.html">Bewildering Stories</a>.))</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-66305696215620851102013-06-15T14:12:00.004-07:002013-06-15T14:12:51.273-07:00Zul'gurub<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aq-T27jDs5E/UbzXYNEfS3I/AAAAAAAACe4/v86RNaQjnZ4/s1600/Zul%2527gurub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aq-T27jDs5E/UbzXYNEfS3I/AAAAAAAACe4/v86RNaQjnZ4/s400/Zul%2527gurub.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Feeling any better?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A little. At least here there’s room for breathing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Breathing is overrated. I hardly even bother with it these days.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I laughed as Destron handed me a bowl of tea, the guesthouse humid with the smell of warm morning rains. They helped me there after I’d come to my senses. Mala’ha told me to take it easy and that there were plenty of priests around if I needed help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Poor Daj’yah, sometimes I forget how much of a girl you still are,” Mala’ha had clucked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone worried about me until it became quite obvious that I’d already more or less recovered. At least my projectile vomiting convinced everyone I’d be happier in the guesthouse, which was practically empty by that point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Reconsecrating one of the greatest temples in the world is no small matter, even for a people like my own who aren’t much for conspicuous displays. I spent the next few days with people I’d not seen since childhood and strangers from other bands that I’d never met.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ur’kyo screeched us awake every morning, the hateful old priest lining us up in the center of Bambala to practice the sacred words and motions, his voice sharp and wrenching like rusty goblin machinery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They picked you for this, Daj’yah?” he scoffed, taking me aside after the rehearsal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not at my request.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You be careful then, the Loa do not like wizards and they like shirkers even less. I’d marry you to someone here, but no man here deserves that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No man here does.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My breath caught in my throat as soon as I’d spoke—what arrogance! Fortunately, Ur’kyo’s a thick one, and he took my comment as an agreement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ritual we practiced didn’t ask all that much of me; really, an apprentice could have done the job just as well. My responsibility was just to coax a frost spell halfway into our world so that shifting ice might show on my hands as I walked. During this, me and two other wizards would chant a prayer of thanks to Bethekk over and over again. I think Bethekk would find such a thing quite boring, but I am not a Loa.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whatever the importance, Ur’kyo surely loved being the center of attention. The old days had it so that village holy men like Ur’kyo held the title of <i>chaku</i>, which translates more-or-less as amateur priest. Sure enough, a <i>chaku </i>did plenty of other things around the village besides holy work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone paid them mind, since they knew the Loa better than most, but no one thought them infallible or holy the way they did the Zandalari. The village elders could defy the <i>chaku</i>’s advice if they so chose. If the priest held a grudge, he’d bring it up to the Zandalari the next time they came; if they sided with him, the headman might lose his job.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most times though, they settled the matter on their own. Everyone knew that the Zandalari priests had bigger things to worry about than village quarrels. Ur’kyo sure saw the fall of Zandalar as a sign that the Loa liked him, but the others didn’t seem to think much more of him. He said the Loa answered his prayers with victory, but maybe the Loa answered our prayers by giving us the connections we needed so as to get lots of guns. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Destron walked out with me the morning the procession set off to Zul’gurub. He looked at the display with a bit of longing; he’s always wanted to see Zul’gurub, but the undead cannot attend such a ceremony.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be taking good pictures of the place,” I said, holding up Destron’s photo-recorder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Of that I have no doubt, but don’t trouble yourself too much over such things. I think this is a momentous event: for the Darkspear Tribe, for mages, perhaps for the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m thinking it’s just politics as usual.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sometimes that’s how momentous things start.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’d explain why such things are usually so disappointing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ha ha! At any rate, good luck.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I probably won’t be needing much—this is really simple—but thanks all the same.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thirty-seven of us marched east to the steaming hills. It was as much a chance to make new friends and be reacquainted with old ones as it was for religion. Some other races, it seems to me, put more of a barrier between themselves and their gods. Judging from what Destron tells me, and what the books say, a human behaves one way in a church, and another in a tavern.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With trolls, it’s much simpler. Some of this is because we usually live in small villages where you can’t really keep secrets. Everyone knows your sins already. The other is that the Loa aren’t so much different from us; mightier by far, but motivated by the same things. They understand this, so they do not expect us to be holy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe they expect too little, but I’m not sure I care for the human method. So much of it goes by promises—if you want the joy of others to be your own, you must do good unto others. But no one knows how such things are measured. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Loa don’t bother with the pretense. They have power, and they must be obeyed, same as one obeys the elders or the priests. It is not fair, but they do not claim to be fair. They do not promise any better world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I drifted to the back of the procession, not really wanting to hear Ur’kyo’s obnoxious laughter as he made jokes with other old men from the Tiger Stripes. I don’t know if it was fate that guided me to Mala’ha, or what the gnomes call the subconscious, but I soon ended up walking next to my cousin who strode near the kodo-pulled wagon carrying food and gifts for the ritual.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Remember: no vomiting in the temple.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t worry, I’ll eat sacred food before starting the ritual. That way if I get sick, Bethekk will still be honored.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t joke about this!” she snapped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I just wasn’t sure what to say.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Say that you will be careful. You know, you could save yourself so much trouble if you just stayed quiet and did what we need you to do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What about my magic? Aren’t wizards supposed to be valuable all of a sudden?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes, but even then you don’t do much. You hide out and avoid everyone. I’m surprised you even came here. You need to give everything you have, the same way the rest of us do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What do you want me to give?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yourself! You cannot still live apart from us, especially not now. Look how much we have done for you! We protected you as a child, when your crazy mother spent her days and nights crying to herself! We taught you how to gather food, to sow baskets, to plant cassava. When you went off to Orgrimmar, we let you. I heard that when the orcs wanted to kill you, all the trolls in the city rose up to help you!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s not—“<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Daj’yah, you have so much to offer! Why do you withhold? I don’t understand it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She furrowed her brow and massaged her forehead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m not trying to upset you, but you need to remember this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She quickened her pace and I knew better than to follow suit. My mouth hurt as it pulled down into a frown. I shook my head, not letting myself cry. I’d never gained from such silliness, and didn’t intend to give Mala’ha the satisfaction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Besides, she knew she was right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tribe still protected my mother as she died slowly over the course of years, weeds sprouting up in her garden and animals eating up the cassava. She’d go out under scolding glares of neighbors, speaking anger to herself as she pulled out weeds, staggering from patch to patch without ever really clearing any of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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They made no secret of hating her, a crazy woman who wouldn’t remarry and have more babies. By that point though, no man in the village would have married her, the gossip of the others cursing her as sure as any shaman could. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t think they wanted to be cruel, at least not at first. Life is hard for a tribe, and they could not afford to have someone who didn’t contribute her fullest. Any other tribe would have let her die, but we’ve always been a bit softer than most.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If I’m going to be honest here, I can’t say I liked her much either. To be sure, I don’t really remember much about her in detail but there’s no joy in those memories. I only feel the coldness and the fear. I think though, that I grasped something about her that my kin did not; that she didn’t act that way to be stubborn or prideful, but simply because she’d lost something.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They say my mother was quite the catch when she was younger, beautiful and strong, more like Mala’ha than me. She didn’t turn me into someone clumsy, ugly, and weak. <o:p></o:p></div>
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By the time we reached the gates of Zul’gurub, our feet and calves plastered red from the muddy earth, I was not in much of a state to appreciate the architecture. Anyone could tell it was grand, its ancient yellow stones bent but not broken by the force of roots as wide as a grown man. Serpentine idols to Ula-tek slumbered under moss and vines on both sides of the road, ruby eyes crusted over with mud. You could just see the wing patterns scratched into the sides by the Soulflayer cultists decades ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I wish you were the one seeing this,” I said in Common. I raised the recorder to my face, looking through the slot like Destron had instructed, and worked to get the gate in view. Pressing the button, the glass eye blinked and the contraption twitched in my hands.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tremendous walls, so big you’d think a god must have put them in place, guided the path to a moss-lined stone arch. The arch is a Gurubashi invention, and archaeologists say that some of them predate anything the elves ever built. The Amani never had anything like it, instead using the sharp corbel arch for their great temples.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Behold! The place of our past glory, and a promise of greater glories to come!” bellowed Ur’kyo, his skinny arms flung out like he wanted to hug the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All conversation stopped as the stone enveloped us, entire libraries inscribed on its surface, most of the letters too worn down to read. I recognized a few bold symbols visible through the curtain of vines. Our footsteps fell into the sound of marching Gurubashi from more than 10,000 years past as their ghosts returned to the site of their power.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I looked down at my feet, the tropical air as cold as ice, and I knew the others felt it too. The memories of thousands seep out of the stone and into your brain, you hear the rituals conducted by long-dead priests in ancient sanctuaries.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Protect me in this place,” I whispered, not really sure which Loa I prayed to. Perhaps it was not to the gods but only to my mother, her lonely ghost at my heels.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We walked steady and solemn through the ancient place. I couldn’t bring myself to disrupt it by taking more pictures but my eyes gobbled up all the sights: the great walls that once encircled busy plazas where trolls sold rice and feathers, the slumbering palaces and galleries, the temples where the gods lived.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Zul’gurub wraps around a great lake, the waters feeding it tumbling down from the misty crags all around the city. The unholy temple to the Soulflayer (in the old days where Ula-Tek was worshipped) sits on a big island in the middle, his profane might no match for nature. Beasts now rule the place, praying to their unknowable gods as they hunt and hide in the flowering ferns.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Temple of Bethekk is at the northern end of the city on the other side of the waters. They’d already sent people ahead to lash together some rafts for going across the lake, and we spent some hours loading everything and everyone on-board. Simple logistics is a good way to cut all the drama out of a scene and the weight of the ghosts lightened a bit as we worked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Feeling braver, I took a few more snapshots and smiled as I imagined Destron stumbling about the place in a state of architectural agape. I’ve never seen him get more excited than when he describes the great cities he’s seen. </div>
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“If the Darkspear end up ruling this place, I’ll make sure you get a chance to visit,” I whispered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We reached the northern section at nighttime, the sharp lines of the temple black against the moon. Rituals to Bethekk are to be conducted at dusk, so we had no choice but to wait until the next day. Ur’kyo warned us not to stray far, since wicked things still dwell in the forgotten courts.</div>
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We spent this time doing extra preparations, reciting the words and practicing the steps. I’d have liked to try it while wearing the cumbersome ritual garments but they were only to be worn once. Ur’kyo made a big fuss about throwing them away once we were done, how doing that showed our power.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No longer do we have to cling to every holy scrap we find. Now, we have the power, as did the Zandalari,” he claimed. He said that about a hundred different times throughout the day, always making sure everyone heard him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems to me that since the Loa turned against the Zandalari, maybe we shouldn’t be trying so hard to imitate them. Perhaps better to do the opposite of what the Zandalari did (live on a mainland instead of an island, invite lots of foreigners to our holy places, visit the other tribes instead of making them visit us, and survive the Cataclysm).<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then again, who’s to say what the Loa like or don’t like?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I sat down with Mala’ha at noon, neither of us speaking as she tied my unruly hair into fine braided lengths. It’s amazing to feel her twist around the strands like it was nothing. Every troll woman is supposed to know such things and she’s a master even by those standards.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She used to do this for me when we were kids and even a few times as an adult. I’ll never be a beauty but I’m at least presentable in her hands, someone who might look like a real troll if you’re drunk and not paying attention. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not sure I could forgive her if she somehow did make me beautiful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m sure Mala’ha was wondering if I’d embarrass her like I’d done so many times in the past, not bothering to use her efforts and shrinking back into the shadows. Still, she did her best, smearing the skin around my eyes with soot and reminding me to show off my tusks (sorry specimens that they are).<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You walk in the grace of a goddess tonight, so act the part,” she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Drums started up when the sun began staining the sky. Already dressed in my temple rainments, a crazy mosaic of burlap cloth and precious jewels, I donned the golden jaguar mask, its smooth surface almost warm against my skin. The sheer weight of the thing nearly threw me off balance and I took a few practice steps, getting used to the swaying vise around my head. The mask was not even that big, but still cumbersome; gold was not made to be worn!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Archaeologists say the Temple of Bethekk is one of the newer structures in Zul’gurub. Always great in our eyes, my people probably started worshipping her more keenly after elven magic wreaked havoc on our armies. It’s a bit smaller than most great Gurubashi temples, a sign of the empire’s weakness in those days.</div>
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Bethekk sat in carved jade at the very front of our procession, her sharp smile hungry and expectant. A dozen of the strongest men took positions on the reinforced wooden platform supporting her. Some goblin engineer said it’d be the best way to get the idol to the sanctuary at the top, though I still wasn’t so sure. The idol wasn’t the biggest I’d seen—we’d had to get it ready in something of a hurry—and was just a bit taller than a troll, though much wider. They’d lashed it onto the litter with ropes that I hoped were secure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Women gathered at the back, carrying bowls of fruit, incense, and other offerings. My cousin Tanda watched over the big prize, an anxious tapir on a rope leash. The creature’s beady eyes looked up to the obsidian knife in Tanda’s other hand and the skull-pattern painted on her face, maybe knowing what was to come.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I stepped into formation in the middle, near Ur’kyo. The old priest dressed as a woman so as to appeal to the goddess. He wore far more gold than me, to the point I wondered how the old man could even stand. We three wizards assembled into a sort of triangle behind him. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Players slammed their drums, the beats loud enough wake the stones. Ur’kyo raised his hands and heavy head, chanting Old Zandali in his thick voice, the presence of the Loa jolting through us. We all felt it as we followed. I didn’t think as I spoke, just putting one word in front of the other as I’d been trained. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Glory to you, and the power to us, our enemies in dust and blood,” moaned Ur’kyo.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At that I called on the magic, the air cooling around my finger tips to make a thin sheen of frost. I kept the connection unsteady so the frost shuddered and twitched, its presence as visible as the flames engulfing Man’ko’s hands and the clean blue light on Vad’nag’s.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The mask tilted forward just a bit, the eye slits suddenly below my actual eyes. Wanting to curse but not daring I kept walking forward, lifting my head up in hopes the damned thing would slide back into place. No such luck. I couldn’t move it with my hands without disrupting the ritual.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Surely goddess, you will not mind</i>? <i>You wouldn’t want your servant to trip over her own feet while honoring you.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Somehow I didn’t think Ur’kyo would acknowlede any divine forgivness on her part. I kept going forward, casting my eyes downward to see Ur’kyo’s feet treading the flagstones. The drumbeats annoyed their way back into my conscious mind, and I suddenly realized that, distrated by the mask as I was, I’d fallen out of beat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Easy</i>, I told myself, still chanting the holy words.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I tried to match my pace to Ur’kyo’s, not an easy thing to do since he kept slipping out of my vision. Thinking he’d left me behind I started moving more quickly. Too fast, I realized, when my toes sunk into someone’s flesh followed by an annoyed grunt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Raising my head as far as I could, I saw Ur’kyo standing in place, his tongue jumping back into the chant even though I’d run into him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>This is silly</i>, I thought, and raised my arm, just managing to shove the mask into place. At last I saw why we’d stopped. One of the porters had stumbled, his fellows just keeping the litter steady as he got back to his feet, apologizing. Ur’kyo’s voice strained, the sun inching closer to the horizon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not sure what else to do, I kept up my part of the ritual, the inside of the mask stinking of my sweat. The porters soon started only to slow down again when they reached the first of the steps. It should not be easy to reach a god, or so the thinking went, and the ancient masons made each temple step as steep as possible. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I glanced to the west, reassured that we still had plenty of time. The porters began struggling up and we followed. Behind us, the women carrying the offerings cried out shrill and warbling wails, the tones a match for the pipes. A few of the ancient codices talked of specially trained women who’d “sing in the voice of eternity”, and Ur’kyo had done his best to replicate that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I climbed up the first step, the headdress pressing onto my scalp. Sweat dripped from my chin and onto my neck. <i>Maybe undeath isn’t such a bad idea</i>, I thought, the holy words getting thick on my tongue. Just as the weight seemed to press into my brain, the pounding drums and piercing cries rattled my ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Don’t fall down, don’t throw up.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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This was no time to make a fool of the tribe. I just had to keep at it and say the words. Right then the mask slipped again and my toes slammed straight into the next step. My chant jumped up an octave for a moment and my face scrunched up as pain boiled in my big toe. Half-blind, I raised my foot and found what felt like the top of the next step and pulled myself up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I again raised my arms a bit to put the mask back into place, but I didn’t aim right that time and instead pushed it to the side so I saw everything askew. I decided I’d try again farther up the stairs, not wanting to make it obvious what I was doing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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With all the distractions I again lost track of the beat. Putting aside the pain in my toe and the nasal cries in my ears, I tried to concentrate on the drumbeats. The pain in my toe won the fight without much trouble and I limped to keep pace with everyone around me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Careful—oh no!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The shout came from further up the stairs, the kind that’s panicky enough to grab anyone’s attention. Sound reached me before sight, something soft and heavy hitting the stone steps with a whooshing grunt, joined by more frightened yells.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I caught sight of right-hand porters buckling and the great jade idol tumbling backwards off the platform, hundreds of pounds worth of stone ready to crush the entire column. I almost wonder if Bethekk slowed time as her idol fell towards us like some jade boulder, a sign of her might that she could wipe out her worshippers if she wanted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ur’kyo backtracked in terror only to misstep and fall, the women in back shrieking as they scrambled out of the way. The idol hit the stairs with a crack louder than thunder, a crash so deep you heard it with your bones. Jade fragments split and spun across the stairs as it began to roll.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I didn’t even think, the icy magic in my hands almost singing to me with all its possibility. The formulae for the ice block spell jumped into my head and I spun it into reality, changing the rules as I went. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The force left my hands in an instant. A wave of solid ice flowed up below and around the idol, its translucent mass stopping the god at mid-crest. For just a second I feared the ice block would crack under the weight and force, but it held the idol in place.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Get out of the way!” I yelled, knowing the spell only lasted about ten seconds.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I threw off the mask and hurried down the steps to where Ur’kyo lay bleeding from the scalp. Vad’nag, one of the other mages, was already trying to pull him out of danger. Working together, we got him to the side and to safety, the gift-bearers already on the lower tier of the pyramid and well away from harm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We moved to the sides just as the ice vanished from the world. Its earlier momentum gone, the idol took a bit longer to pick up speed, finally smashing into the plaza hard enough to rattle the entire temple.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The gods must not be kept waiting, but they know that the world is an unfair place. Still dizzy from his fall, Ur’kyo decided that Bethekk would be satisfied with a simpler ritual the next evening, something on a Darkspear scale instead of a Zandalari one. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All of us gathered in the musty temple sanctuary, we three wizards with magic dancing in our hands as Ur’kyo (the poor fellow on crutches) performed the rites. Bearers placed burning incense on the floor and the tapir’s blood and innards draped the altar. The ceremony was quick, but I am sure she appreciated the gifts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When it finished we went back to the plaza, all of us with the satisfaction that comes from finally achieving a difficult task. Ur’kyo insisted on having me be the one to help him down the stairs and I really didn’t have much choice but to comply. The old man saw me as a good luck charm instead of someone who just knew when to take action.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s clear to anyone that Holy Bethekk favors you, Daj’yah,” he said, when we’d reached the plaza.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>If she favored me, wouldn’t she have kept the idol from falling in the first place</i>? <i>Or maybe it was just that pesky thing known as gravity taking charge.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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I didn’t say anything though, just nodding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I will take you back to the Valley of Spirits. There is much to discuss. Too late for you to be a priest, I think, but someone like you could be of much use.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m honored. But it was Vad’nag who first came to save you—“<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Brave, yes, but he’d not have gotten me out of the way in time. He will be good for helping our warriors.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Thank you, holy one, but I’m not sure what I can do there.” All at once I started feeling this tightness in my chest. He wanted me back in Orgrimmar? The damned city is a steel cage, a hellhole where warriors boast and walk on the backs of everyone else. Hadn’t I spent enough time there? I worked hard to keep the anger out of my voice; I’d done something good and he’d pull me out of Booty Bay and back to a place that I hate.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“There is much. You came here to help the tribe, and I am telling you how. I will talk to Master Dangi, of course, but he is a wise man and you know he will agree with me. This is a good moment for everyone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t even think of a response. There had to be some way out, but Master Dangi would never take my word over Ur’kyo’s. The hateful old man—he always used to mock my mother’s ghost, laughing at her hunger and saying I’d end up the same way. He’d ask to my face if I didn’t have some human blood, same way the pupils in Darkbriar made jokes about it when they thought I couldn’t hear. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Ur’kyo tottered off to be closer to the campfire. I noticed Mala’ha standing nearby. We looked at each other for a moment, trying to read each other in the shadows. With that, I did what I always did in such situations; went off to the edge of the campsite and sat in the dark. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--fCvfHrLeIc/UbzXXUcw0AI/AAAAAAAACeo/x739gLmYByE/s1600/Moon+over+Zul%2527gurub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--fCvfHrLeIc/UbzXXUcw0AI/AAAAAAAACeo/x739gLmYByE/s400/Moon+over+Zul%2527gurub.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Going back to Bambala felt like forever but didn’t really take that long. I kept quiet, though most everyone tried to pull me aside to tell me what a grand mage I was. Turns out I don’t really like compliments much more than I like insults. All the damned chatter started to grate on my ears and my brain, like a goblin machine with a loose gear that just won’t stop making awful sounds. And to think I’d soon be facing more of it!<o:p></o:p></div>
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And yet, like Mala’ha had told me, I owed the tribe. Being born a Darkspear is like signing a contract in Booty Bay; you have to fulfill it. Maybe if I just let go and accept, it wouldn’t seem so bad. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Ur’kyo moved more quickly than I thought. He headed up to the elder’s hut the moment we returned, proclaiming “the heroism of this chosen of Bethekk” to everyone. I could only cringe, knowing they’d soon crowd around me again. Seeing him approach Master Dangi, I did the only thing I could do, and ran up to overhear, to maybe say something that would change Dangi’s mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“… Daj’yah is a great mage. I was wrong about her, I will admit. I want to take her back to the Echo Isles. There is much she can do for us,” he said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You seem very excited about this, Holy One,” said Master Dangi. The elder sat on a wooden stool, his back leaning against the wall, a clay cup filled with coffee in his hand. “Here, don’t be in such a hurry. I’ve got some very fine rum for you to enjoy.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Certainly, certainly. I am excited because we have good reason to be. The Loa demonstrated that they watch over us. Daj’yah turned a disaster into a moment of heroism! Bethekk granted her favor to show us all what she could be capable of. This is just as you were saying, the mages are an important part of our tribe.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes,” said Master Dangi, pouring some of the Sharkport Rum into a cup and handing it over to Ur’kyo. “Daj’yah has no husband or living parents, so I certainly shall not refuse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tears built up in my eyes, but I didn’t let them flow. I’d not be some cringing wretch in their presence. Destron waved to me from the guesthouse, and I fluttered my right hand in response, my heart about to burst.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Good. The Bone-carvers have always been an important part of the tribe—“<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You don’t need to flatter me, Holy One. We are clever, but few in number. Such has always been our way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Daj’yah, this seems like a good opportunity for you. Do you want to add anything?” asked Master Dangi.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I tried to think of what to say, my mouth dry. I wished I’d never left Booty Bay, never left my cramped office in the Old Port Authority where people gave me space, never left my hothouse room in the Portview Arms that I shared with an actual friend.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Holy One, Master Dangi, a word please?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was Mala’ha, who’d just entered the hut. Ur’kyo’s little eyes flickered with something much like lust at the sight of her. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Certainly, Mala’ha. What is it?” asked Master Dangi.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’ve known Daj’yah all my life. She’s a very keen one, to be sure. What she did back at Zul’gurub was wonderful, but I have seen such magic before. I am a huntress, and many of the tribe’s enemies have fallen at my spears. Other wizards—some Darkspear, some not—have used such spells in similar ways.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No one doubts that,” said Master Dangi.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So she is not unique—“<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You should not speak ill of your cousin!” scolded Ur’kyo.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not at all! I do nothing of the sort! Daj’yah, am I not right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You are. It’s been done before. All I did was modify a spell very slightly. It’s not something all mages are able to do, but there are plenty of others. I don’t even really have that much experience in actual spellcasting, and have even less at fighting.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You see? Now that would still be fine, but there is more she could do for the tribe. The truth is, she’s never really been much of a Darkspear. Holy One, you often reminded her of the fact.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I was not entirely wrong, but she has worth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Her real worth isn’t in her magic. Master Dangi, you often said we need more knowledge from the outside world. Daj’yah works for the Steamwheedle Cartel. She’s in the perfect place to get more knowledge. Spellbooks for the wizards, engineering manuals for our tinkerers, and all that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“All she has to do is work in Booty Bay. She doesn’t get along too well with trolls, but maybe she’d be better with goblins.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This is silly, Mala’ha. You are a woman, do not think to—“<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Mala’ha is a great huntress who’s killed more Bloodscalps than you, Holy One,” reminded Master Dangi. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Need I remind you that I am a servant of the Loa? Do not bring their wrath down upon your head!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The Zandalari were the first servants of the Loa, and we know what happened to them. Somehow I don’t think the gods would be impressed if we started acting like the Zandalari. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think I like your idea, Mala’ha. Daj’yah, you will return to Booty Bay. Mej and some others will keep in touch with you so that you can keep them informed as to what is happening there. Some things you can just give to us—like books to the Darkbriar Lodge. Also, you must keep aware of trade opportunities. Find out what merchants want, and see if we can make a bargain.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Of course,” I said, not quite believing what had just transpired. Mala’ha flashed me a knowing smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mala’ha didn’t stay long, hurrying away to the hut she shared with her husband. I didn’t see her until dinner that night, she looking quite satisfied with herself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You owe me for this, Daj’yah.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I suppose so. Thank you. I know I’m not always an easy person—“<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You don’t need to tell me. Don’t think I’m doing this to let you get away from everything. But I thought back on things when we were in Zul’gurub. I can see why it’s hard for you. At any rate, no one should have to spend more time with Ur’kyo,” she sniffed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“The Loa are very gracious to put up with him.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m not so sure; maybe that incident at the temple was Bethekk telling him to stop.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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My eyes popped open in shock to hear Mala’ha make such a blasphemous joke, and I broke down laughing a moment later.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Your tongue’s getting awful sharp,” I said, between laughs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“All the time I spent with you. Remember though: you do need to take these tasks in Booty Bay seriously. You are always a Darkspear.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I know. I will.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And at least try to find a husband. It’s your responsibility to have a child.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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A sort of heaviness settled over my heart. I don’t know how to live with people, much less children. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I promise I’ll try.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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In silence we watched the hunters—grown lazy from so much time in Bambala—eat their food and boast of past deeds. I remembered all those hot youthful days spent in Mala’ha’s shadow, wondering if I’d just forgotten the good times with her, or if they’d truly never existed.<br />
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Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-91371278306903395052013-06-06T23:24:00.004-07:002023-04-17T11:42:59.820-07:00((Ending the Travelogue))((I'm making this off-schedule reply to let everyone know that the travelogue will be going on indefinite hiatus after the next update (June 15). I have become increasingly busy lately, and now that I've gotten some work published, it's essential that I create more original stories.<br /><br />Normally I'd be happy to continue despite this, but my job also demands a great deal of writing. As such, I'm simply too exhausted to continue both the travelogue and work on original fiction with any degree of consistency. Also, to be honest, I'm feeling a bit burned out.<br /><br />The next update is actually a pretty good stopping place. Destron will be in his favorite city and with his best friend, while Felya's nearby to make sure things don't get too pedantic. I'll add a short epilogue after the June 15 entry.<br /> <br /> I suggest that all readers consider this the ending. While there is a possibility that I will continue with the post-Cataclysm Eastern Kingdoms, that's dependent on a number of external factors.<br /><br />Thanks, and I hope nobody's too disappointed.))Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-47853382628742690222013-05-30T23:26:00.002-07:002020-10-12T23:20:44.756-07:00Back to Stranglethorn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_tjWH1uf9o4/UahBunFuQeI/AAAAAAAACdY/y-wOBBUhx6o/s1600/Return+to+Stranglethorn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_tjWH1uf9o4/UahBunFuQeI/AAAAAAAACdY/y-wOBBUhx6o/s400/Return+to+Stranglethorn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
((For those who don't already know, I'm now a published author at Bewildering Stories. You can read my story <a href="http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue526/age_reception1.html">here</a>. Please direct your comments to the previous update, or to my email address at destron@live.com.<br />
<br />
Also, one of my RL coworkers is currently battling cancer. If you enjoy this blog, I urge you to show your appreciation by donating to her treatment fundraiser here: <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/30zaiw" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">http://www.gofundme.com/30zaiw</span></a><br />
<br />
Now for your regularly scheduled update; I was a little more experimental with this one, so please tell me what you think.))<br />
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*********<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">You never forget the first time you feel sacred pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not like the sort of churning pain
you get when you’re ill, and you think your bowels are going to rip their way
out of your belly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not
anything like the quick sharp stab of a wound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead it’s something slow, the seconds creeping past you and
hurting all the more since you know it’s expected.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I remember how Aunt Jol’go pressed the little thorn vine into my palm,
the spines prickling my skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Small for your tiny wrist,” she said—first thing she’d said to me in
weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Just about all the village stood out in the square, the Zandalari holy
man’s wounds an inspiration as they drew thorned strings through tongues and
jammed sharp bones into soles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wondered what the priest thought, what our pain felt like against the grills of
fish ribs lancing his cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not making a sound I wrapped the vine around my wrist, first thinking
I’d get used to it by degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
heard my mother though, her hungry memory in the shadows of the old hut, and
wrapped it tighter so that blood welled up and flowed in ribbons all along my arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe if I bled enough, the Loa would
feed her a few drops, and she’d taste life for just a moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I remember you,” I whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Blinking away tears I looked to Jol’go and then to my cousin, Mala’ha, delivering
blood unto the Loa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moh’nim, the
village’s priest, burned mangos and animal flesh in the holy flames on festival
days, but only when the Zandalari came did we offer ourselves as gifts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Remembering that, it’s hard to think we Darkspear would ever best the
Zandalari.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Great deathtraps on wheels—some call them buses—make weekly trips
between Booty Bay and the worksites all through Stranglethorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not long ago, these metal hulks
would’ve been easy prey for Skullsplitters and pirates, but the Steamwheedle
Cartel’s gotten good at keeping its house in order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nowadays, the drivers just have to fight through the red mud
that passes for roads in this place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I sat near the back, hemmed in by goblin bodies and soaked in sweat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was starting to think we should have
paid extra to go up on the bus’ rooftop, where a whole crowd of other goblins
sacrificed safety for a bit of comfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even more daring sorts took the journey on wooden platforms nailed to
the side, each dip and pothole threatening to toss them off into the
jungle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those inside with us
didn’t let the heat keep them from being as busy as possible, swapping stories,
snacks, and more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Destron sat next to me, comfortable in undeath as he talked to the
goblin next to him, a scarred fellow with bloodshot eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I fix machinery, set things up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pretty boring, really,” he grunted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You sound as if you’ve been doing this for quite some time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not really sure
why you’re so curious.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The goblin turned away and Destron looked to me, giving a plaintive
shrug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Fishing for more material?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You need to be patient with this sort of thing, Daj’yah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sooner or later I’ll find someone who
can’t wait to tell me his entire life story, along with all the social,
economic, and political details I might want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I smiled at that, glad he was taking the trip with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I never really expected someone like Non’kuj, old and wise as he is, to
ever say the tribe needed someone like me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, wizards are always useful, but you never admit it,
certainly not if you’re a shaman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My people needed me even earlier, when I was in Bilgewater Harbor and
Mar’at, but no one knew to contact me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now the Darkspear are in a new place and no one knows what’s next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Here’s what happened, by Non’kuj’s accout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Loa have loved Holy Zandalar since the very beginning
but something soured them to the great priests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it was because the Zandalari used outsiders to defeat
the Soulflayer, or maybe that they stood by and watched Zul’drak perish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say that nothing divine watched
over the Zandalari on the day of the Cataclysm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I can think of waves crashing down on Holy Zandalar, but can’t really
believe it happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are the
elect of the Loa, protected from the world so that their prayers and sacrifices
would never end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end, the
Loa do as they will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can only
hope to survive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Someone named Zul rounded up the surviving Zandalari, calling himself a
prophet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Non’kuj didn’t know if
Zul used to be a priest or was just some regular troll; he certainly killed a
lot of the remaining holy men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’d offended the Loa, Zul said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">With all Zandalar (what remained of it) heeding his words, Zul
proclaimed that all Azeroth must be made a sacrifice to the Loa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sent the call out to all the tribes,
telling them to band together to make an empire greater than Gurubashi or
Amani.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I think this proves the Loa were lying to him, or that he’s just a
madman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tribes are harrowed
and scattered; there aren’t enough to form new empires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that’s why Zul tried so hard to
get my people to help, but Vol’jin would not have any of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Horde hasn’t been a good home for us these past few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, we’ve been through worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We lived as the Zandalari wished us to
for centuries, forever fighting the other tribes, squabbling for land and
vengeance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few decades with the
Horde has given us literacy and roads, radios and even a bit of peace (hard for
an outsider to believe I know, but tribal life is a long war that never
ends—you can ask the tauren and they’ll say the same thing).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Thinking about it that way, you can see why Vol’jin turned Zul
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Garrosh is a fool, but he’ll
die sooner or later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe the
next warchief will be worse, maybe he’ll be better, but we are stronger than we
were back in the old ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
anyone is going to make a new troll empire, it will be the Darkspear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Zandalari don’t allow those who mock the gods to live, and to Zul,
we Darkspear were doing just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He started stirring up the Skullsplitters and Bloodscalps (at least,
those who hadn’t already joined us), so Vol’jin sent our people to
Stranglethorn to put an end to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">And for the first time, normal trolls bested the Zandalari.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We did not do it alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Other Horde warriors helped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stranger yet, so did some in the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Loa must approve of the new ways, or we would not have
won.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Here is where it gets political.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Vol’jin knew that the Darkspear had to be the ones to take charge
against the Zandalari.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the Loa
favor us, the rest of the world—especially the trollish world—must know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hiding behind Garrosh will just make us
look weak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Hellscreams eyes apparently can’t be upon everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He barely seems to notice us, so Vol’jin
just took his most trusted aides and went into the jungle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that the battle’s over and won, word’s
starting to spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the tribes
hear that the old ways are dashed to the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Horde sees that we can stand on our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the Alliance heeds us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">So what happens next?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Garrosh will not forgive Vol’jin for doing this behind his back, but
with the Horde bleeding itself dry in all these wars, he can’t afford to
retaliate (unless he really is that stupid, which might be the case).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vol’jin made a gamble, and no one knows
if he’ll win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Years ago, back when we took down the Soulflayer and his followers, we
laid a claim to the land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Cataclysm robbed us of that but now Vol’jin and the elders see a new
opportunity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is why they are
calling people like me to Stranglethorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I pitched forward in my seat, catching myself before crashing over the
bench in front as the bus shook and squealed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All at once the machine creaked to a stop, the metal still
groaning from the strain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking
over the crowd, I just saw a troll standing in front of the bus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I got cold all of a sudden, knowing how slow and heavy we were, how easy
it’d be for spears in the jungle to strike us down if we tried to run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called out to the magic beyond
without even thinking it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The troll out in front raised his skinny arms and driver started shouting
at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time passed in the heat,
mana escaping my clenched fist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
little part of me still thought of spears in the dark but my heart started to
relax.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What’s the hold-up?” screeched the goblin nearest me, along with a
whole bunch of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one can
make noise like goblins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There’s this troll out in front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His cow just fell in the middle of the road,” shouted the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Well run it over!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“First, I don’t think the bus would survive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second, that’ll start a vendetta between the local villages
and us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So unless you fellas all
want to be peppered with arrows the next time you go through here, be a little
friendlier.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Aww, come on!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hey, we can figure something out, be good neighbors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone know anything—“ started the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hey!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a troll
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s big she can carry it
out of the way or something!” jabbered the screechy one nearby, pointing his
skinny arm at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to grab
him by it and toss him out of the bus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Um, I don’t know much about handling cows,” I mumbled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ma’am, would you mind going out and talking to him at least?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Zandali isn’t too good,” said the
driver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe you can help him
out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Now I get to move hurt cows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Destron, when’s the last time I lifted anything heavier than a book?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There was that time you lifted two books.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Dozens of dark eyes all swiveled to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did they expect me to do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Use some kind of troll magic to fix the cow and get us on
our way?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ll talk to him,” I announced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“What tribe is he?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m no expert, but he looks like one of the South Seas trolls who
settled here after the Cataclysm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’re peaceable sorts,” said the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Should I go with you?” asked Destron.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, just as far as the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Keep an eye on the forest and make sure nothing’s creeping about in
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might scare the man
outside if he sees you; a lot of trolls are skittish about the undead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I ducked to get through the door, my eyes probing for any movement in
the green wall of trees and ferns by the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My right foot pressed down on the damp red dirt, the soiled
air a grand improvement after the bus, but still promising danger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered all the cousins and
villagers I knew who’d been killed in ambushes, half-expecting a spear to
skewer me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Instead, there was only a troll, bent double under the weight of age,
and the sad moos of cow lying on its side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Relexing a bit, I inclined my head, still not totally
comfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Good day, wise one,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">So hunched over was the man that I didn’t first realize he was bowing
before me (or at least trying to).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is it true?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblin in
the bus said you’re a Darkspear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Good!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your people have
great power!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure you can
help me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Wait, I’m a Darkspear, but I’m no healer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, but you can ask the Loa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They will listen to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why would they listen to me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m not a priest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You’re even better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your
tribe beat the holiest priests in battle, so you must be close to the gods.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I wondered if it was too late to just run over the damn cow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure, but the Loa are very picky about when and why they help people.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is true,” murmured the old man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What happened to your cow, exactly?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did she break her legs?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, I felt no breaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
might be sick, which might be just as bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sent my son to the village to get help from Baj’nam—he’s
our shaman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was hoping he’d get
back before people started coming up the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Please understand that I need her,” he said, motioning to the cow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is my middle daughter’s dowry,
and she’s going to be married very soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cannot afford to get another one on such short notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve always been poor in cattle and
rich in daughters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Then we must be careful when we move her,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know you never move an injured
animal, but I remember it being all right to move one that was merely
sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How to move it was a
different question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Surely you can ask the Loa,” he implored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">What had these people been hearing about my tribe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a time when all the jungle
folk spat on our name, thinking us cowards and weaklings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, those from beyond Stranglethorn,
who’d never heard our names, saw us as the chosen of the Loa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, well—sometimes the Loa like to work in mysterious ways, you
know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As in, maybe there’s
something here we could use that they prepared for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In advance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You are wise.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And perhaps that something would be those goblins in the bus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I strode back to the entrance, where Destron still waited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hey!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All you goblins are
good at making things, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well,
now it’s time to make a stretcher for that cow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faster
you do it, faster we’ll be on our way!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You said you were going to lift it—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, you assumed I was!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
beast might be hurt, we need to be careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come on!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You heard the lady, get to work,” ordered the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Goblins might whine at first, but once they get started they move pretty
quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bunch of them stumped
out of the bus and over to the jungle’s edge, cutting off branches and vines
with machetes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I went over to the old man, who finally introduced himself as
Mo’dak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talked as I tore off
some ferns and placed them over the cow so she could keep cool.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What exactly have you been hearing about the Darkspear down here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All kinds of things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
enough that you defeated the Zandalari in battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that I can say what I want about those priests, I am
glad you did!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spoke so much
about what we needed to do for them, but they hardly did anything to help us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My people used to live on Rokasha Island, a tiny little place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We bled ourselves every time the holy
men came over, yet the waves washed over Rokasha all the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our village was lucky, but many of the
others were completely wiped out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Zandalari are useless to us!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Careful—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I stopped myself, almost ready to shut him up for blasphemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never been much to trust priests,
but I still remember how they came to us, dressed in gold and blood, all beyond
mortal understanding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can see that,” I finally said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That is why it’s so good for you Darkspear to take their place.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cow moaned, and he leaned down,
stroking its neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblins
were almost finished with their stretcher, a big unsteady thing just stable
enough to carry the cow over to the edge of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There’s nothing you can do to heal the wound?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are powerful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh, yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am just—“ I
paused, searching for something to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I am just a woman, wise one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No priest, still quite young.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If someone greater than me, like Zuru the Shadow-Walker, came along,
he’d be able to help.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hated
myself for saying those words, but I didn’t know how else to explain it to
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Island folk like him see
everything as the will of the Loa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Just like I did, growing up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Of course, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
family is part of the Sharpscale branch of the Brinespitter Tribe—what’s left
of the tribe, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please know
that we are friends to your people.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are happy to have such friends here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The stretcher was finally ready, and the goblins carried it over to the
cow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shifting her very carefully,
they slid the stretcher beneath, Mo’dak whispering gentle things to her all the
while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally they lifted and
carried the cow over to the bushes at the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thank you!” exclaimed Mo’dak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I will give thanks to the shrine once I get back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He says thank you,” I relayed to the goblins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You’re welcome,” they mumbled as they mobbed their way back into the
bus, squeezing past each other to get inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You’ll be all right here?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My son should be back soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You can still help though, do something to protect us against predators
or other trolls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not the
warrior I once was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I wished I could cast a frost armor spell on someone other than
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d already gotten a lot
of help, and the area seemed safe enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still, I didn’t want to just leave the man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Here, I will give my own blood to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That will please the Loa, won’t it?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Your blood?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He nimbly took out a heavy carving knife from his belt, putting it up to
his palm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My head started
spinning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Wait!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Loa show no mercy to pretenders, and I could not afford to encourage
him any further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to think
of a way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hey, what’s the hold-up?” demanded the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Just a minute!” I shouted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I am no great Darkspear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
are wiser than me, you are older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Loa will not let me accept your blood as a gift.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I must give you something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To do otherwise would be disrespectful,” he protested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How about we both give blood?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Both?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to me, not to
you, but we both give it to the Loa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They are above us all, and I think that would please them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Miss, we have to get moving!” shouted the driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Excuse me, sir, I think I heard something odd in the engine,” came
Destron’s raspy voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Perhaps
someone should take a look before we proceed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Thank you</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">, I thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How does that sound?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mo’dak looked at his knife, and again at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That will be good,” he said, swiftly cutting open his left palm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held out his hand, letting the blood
drip to the earth as he handed the knife to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking it from him, I wondered just how many germs lived on
the blade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vowing to be quick, I
made a quick slice, the edge swooshing just above my palm as I flinched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I froze, embarrassed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mo’dak waited with patience, and I heard the driver arguing with Destron
behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a few deep
breaths and tried again, the blade tearing open my skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I followed Mo’dak’s lead, letting it bleed onto the ground, and returned
his knife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is a gift from both of us to the Loa,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep me safe, and
keep close your chosen people, the Darkspear Tribe,” he intoned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, keep Mo’dak safe, and be kind to the Sharpscales, for they seem
faithful.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t like how he
kept referring to my people as chosen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That sort of talk was dangerous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I said goodbye and hurried back to the bus, the driver motioning
furiously for me to hurry up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
kept the wound facing up, closing my hand into a fist so nobody saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pushing down the narrow aisle, I
plopped down next to Destron.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I tried to buy you a little extra time,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I hope it helped.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I figured—what happened to your hand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Let’s just say I’m thinking I know why the Zandalari were always in
such foul moods.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mVfdA2wTQGE/UahBucUCJ6I/AAAAAAAACdQ/X1CR4Fqftuk/s1600/Jungle+Road.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mVfdA2wTQGE/UahBucUCJ6I/AAAAAAAACdQ/X1CR4Fqftuk/s400/Jungle+Road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Everyone thinks that we trolls just love putting random pauses in our
names: Vol’jin, Hai’zan, and yes, Daj’yah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s why, when people write our names, they drop in an
apostrophe to show where you make a brief pause when speaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The apostrophe should be there, but not for the reasons they think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An apostrophe can mean different things
in Common (and in Orcish, which adopted it from the humans—I’m sure Garrosh is
now claiming the Orcish apostrophe has a long and gloried history where it did
battle against diacritical and punctuation marks to claim its rightful place).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The apostrophe might denote possession
and certain plural forms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It also stands for words that have been omitted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is why it’s used in trollish (and
elven) names.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When a troll is
born, his mother (advised by the shaman) gives him a full name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is known only to her, the child,
and to the shaman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one else
will ever know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parents never tell
their true names to children, for a child should never have that much power.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Since the true name is sacred (and also takes a very long time to say),
the first and last syllables are combined into a single name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is how others will know him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the course of life, you might get a
kind of nickname and be known by that instead (Master Rokhan’s name, for
instance, tells everyone he’s wise in the ways of the spirits—before becoming a
mighty a shadow hunter, he was called Toban’da).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">That’s why the apostrophe usage in our names is actually correct, even
if not everyone knows why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like I
said, elven names are similar, though there the contraction is more for
convenience’s sake than to protect something holy—the full name might refer to
all the elf’s different titles and relations and so forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, Quel’dorei in its full
form is Quelulashanurazsharadorandorei—“Those borne to the high retainers of
glorious Azshara” (Darnassian and Thalassian are also both very fond of
compound words).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Humans got used to putting in the apostrophes when writing troll and
elven names.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, as more people
learned how to write, they didn’t always get every detail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They just assumed that the apostrophe
meant a pause, which is why they started using it for Orcish names.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Look at Gul’dan’s name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
Orcish, “-dan” is a suffix that denotes someone of great power or mastery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a bit of a pause in the pronunciation,
but there aren’t any missing words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A more proper way to write it would be Gul-dan, Gul Dan, or even just
Guldan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough, some humans
did write it that way, but in the official reports made by intelligence agents,
the journals of soldiers, and so forth, most people used the apostrophe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s stayed ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">You might think it strange to spend so much time dwelling on
punctuation, but when you’re stuck on a glorified basket hanging from a ragged
balloon that’s being slammed with the full force of a tropical storm, you’ll do
what you can to focus on something other than your death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The dirigible was old even before Vol’jin brought it to ferry volunteers
up from the south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tribe
didn’t want the Steamwheedle getting too involved—it had to be a Darkspear
victory before it was anything else—so it only made pickups in an outpost
called Camp Madja.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Destron and I
got off the bus at that place, waiting a few days for the airship to blow in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bunch of Horde volunteers jumped off
when it landed; no one except us got on board.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">One thing about tribal life is that you can never really escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Destron talks about visiting some
new Darkspear village, he sees it as a truly new place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, I’ve already met at least a
third of the people living there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know who their parents were, which of their cousins is causing
trouble, and how they get along with the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I don’t know the details as well as most, but I still
get the basics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jan’gul, the dirigible pilot, goes way back with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We grew up in the same village, him the
youngest son of Madiwe’s family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He used to climb up in the trees to show off his natural hunter’s skill,
trying to catch birds and monkeys and often hurting himself in the process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Pain is the great teacher, but some students just never learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spinning the wheel and laughing mad
into the storm, Jan’gul showed no trace of fear or even thought, thrusting his
skinny arms in the air when the lighting flashed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flying these tubs sure
is dull most times, but it’s grand in a storm like this!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I checked the straps holding me in place and glanced at Destron,
rainwater funneling out of the little dry wounds on his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He picked up on my worry and learned
over just as a gust of wind made the ship swing like a pendulum, throwing him
back down to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This isn’t the first time I’ve flown over Stranglethorn in a balloon,”
he shouted as he righted himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“The first time, when I was shot down, it was very drab: we just fell
out of the sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is much more
interesting, what with all the sound and light.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And now you know why I like being boring.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I risked a quick look down at the canopy, the entire scene lurching like
a drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were close to Bambala;
we’d flown over the Sundering, the great maelstrom splitting north and south,
just the previous day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The good thing about tropical storms is that, unlike the storms in
Azshara, they actually end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jan’gul let out a disappointed sigh as the black clouds drifted apart
towards the end of the day, the setting sun blinding and red.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, there is nothing like proving yourself to the gods,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Proving yourself?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Showing I have what it takes to fly through anything they put in my
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Loa made us Darkspear
strong and crafty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You shouldn’t say such things!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Come on, Daj’yah!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were
always a timid little one, I remember, hiding behind your cousins and sneaking
off whenever we did something fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe that’s how we all used to be dealing with other tribes, but
now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now we are the leaders of all
trolls.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And being the leaders of all trolls worked out just fine for the
Zandalari.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Loa will change their minds in time, but why not enjoy it for now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jan’gul never much feared the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe in a way he had enough sense to know that it didn’t
matter what he did, that in the end he’d live or die at their whim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the most puffed-up priest will
tell you that sacrifice and prayer won’t guarantee anything; it’ll just improve
your odds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only the Zandalari
could ever make guarantees, and that didn’t mean so much any longer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We landed in Bambala at noon a few days later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bambala’s not much of a town right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether it grows or shrinks depends on
how much effort we decide to put into Stranglethorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the Alliance volunteers had left already, along with
most from the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My people
remained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jan’gul had already told me whom to expect, so I spent the journey
mentally preparing myself to treat people I hadn’t seen in years as close
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I come from the
Bone-carver band of the tribe, and most of us had settled in Sen’jin
Village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I followed my mentor,
Gu’jomb, to Orgrimmar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Each band has its own story of how it earned its name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say the first Bone-carver,
Jem’de, hunted down Red-Paw, biggest tiger in all Stranglethorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Red-Paw dodged all his spears, so Jem’de
grabbed her by the neck with both hands and strangled her to death over two
days and two nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once he was
done, Bloodscalps surrounded him and demanded he give over the kill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He promised he would, and in a way, he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See, Jem’de still had an obsidian knife, and while he talked
to the Bloodscalps, praising them for being so cunning in hunting him, he
opened up the tiger and made sharp knives from her bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“’You want Red-paw?” he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Here she is!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jem’de threw the bone knives right into the chests of the
Bloodscalps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever since then, the
Bone-carvers have been very clever types, always thinking of ways to come out
as the winners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">There are nine recognized bands within the Darkspear Tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few say it’s more like thirteen, but
not all of them meet the qualifications.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A tribal band is based on blood relations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">This structure made it pretty easy for us to spread throughout the Horde
lands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since each band lives in
its own village, we’re used to operating on our own while cooperating when
needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s the current layout,
more or less:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Sen’jin Village: Bone-carvers and Silent Steps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Orgrimmar: Pierced Lips and Tiger Stripes—a lot of others used to live
here, including many of the Bone-carvers, but most drifted back to their own
kin after the Cataclysm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Shadowprey Village: Red Legs and Fish-eaters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Echo Isles: Stone Tusks—they used to live in Sen’jin but moved back once
they threw Zalazane out of the islands; the Echo Isles is a place for all
Darkspear, especially when it comes to teaching warriors, but it is the home of
the Stone Tusks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Stranglethorn Vale: Yellow Fingers—they went back to the Vale early,
going back and forth between Grom’gol and Booty Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bambala is largely their work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ashenvale: Cold Eyes—dwelled in the Warsong lumber camps, though a lot
of them now fight in the Southern Barrens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The unofficial bands are:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Darkbriar Lodge (which doesn’t consist of families, so we shouldn’t
count).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The druids (same problem as the Darkbriar).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Holy Voices (technically counts, but they’re led by a crazy witch
doctor named Jin’zil out in Stonetalon—of course, sometimes the Loa like
craziness, so perhaps he’ll succeed).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Raptor Fangs (both a partisan militia and a band, with lots of
Bloodscalps and Skullsplitters—they were the ones who went to Outland under the
warrior Denjai).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Put all this together, and you have a very big tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can’t just worry ourselves about
local things, like we did in the old days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole world is our concern, just as it is the
Horde’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that’s why the
elders are working so hard to get us to act as one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I stepped out onto the damp earth, hearing familiar voices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bambala’s still very much a place for
warriors, but there are others too, men from the Red Arm and Tiger Stripe bands
trained as engineers in Orgrimmar, the bunch of them overseeing the
construction of a radio tower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron, I’ll be having to visit the elders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They probably won’t mind you being there—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Of course, I understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll amuse myself in the guest house,” he said, motioning to a small hut
barely able to hold the two tauren braves resting in the interior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah, don’t apologize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You accept me, and your opinion is the one that matters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It’s hard to know the rules these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s not such a bad thing, maybe, since it means petty
laws against the Forsaken aren’t so likely to matter, but you can never be
sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it might have been
fun to walk in with him and upset a millennia’s worth of tradition, but that
wouldn’t help either of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I ducked into the hut, smoky even though it was open to the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few elders sat in a big circle around
a cast iron pot brimming with black coffee so thick you’d need a chisel it out
spoonful by spoonful, while old women brewed more of the stuff near the
entrance, the smell as heavenly as always.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other trolls (I recognized many) sat near the open windows,
gossiping and telling stories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I spotted Master Dangi, my great-uncle and the oldest Bone-carver, whom
I’d not seen in almost ten years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I still recognized the sharp eyes in his wrinkled face, the canny old king-maker
still very active.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took him a
little longer to recognize me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah, is that you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, Master Dangi,” I said with a bow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Non’kuj said that the tribe—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What are you doing here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Welcome back!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why didn’t you ever visit?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Have you married yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How many children?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My mouth opened, trying to think of a clever response for each of the
hundred or so questions being hurled at me, the other bands starting to pay
attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hello,” I croaked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been too
long!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Long arms wrapped around me and I froze, the way I used to as a
child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moments later I recognized
Mala’ha’s smell, so thick with the forest and fresh-spilled blood, my beautiful
cousin beloved by all the tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Only then did I realize that I was hopelessly trapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I answered questions and accusations as best I could until the other
elders restored some degree of order, tribal politics struggling against family
bonds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My great-niece, Daj’yah, only child of my son, has at last come back to
us,” announced Master Dangi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Great must her life have been to not see us in Sen’jin Village, to not
even visit after the orcs forced her out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are all very happy to see her healthy and well.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m honored that you still will have me,” I said, keeping my voice
low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When so many focus on you,
it’s either for something very good or very bad, and it usually isn’t the
former in my experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I feared
I’d bring the partisans to Sen’jin, which is why I didn’t return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Orcs have little sway there, unless they make themselves friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I have gifts,” I said, unshouldering my pack and opening it, taking out
the expensive bottle of Sharkport Rum I’d bought with a week’s salary in Booty
Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Master Dangi smiled with his
yellowed teeth; he’d never been much for rum personally, but he always liked to
use it when negotiating with other elders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I took out the rest of the gifts, an assortment of ammunition, incense,
and a small radio powered by a hand-crank.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am sorry I couldn’t get anything more specific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew Master Dangi would be here, but
I wasn’t sure about everyone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You are gift enough, my dear,” said Mala’ha, kissing me on the
cheek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">As if you’d say that if I came empty-handed</i>, I thought, mentally
chiding myself the moment I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mala’ha’s done much more for the Bone-carvers than me, so who am I to
complain?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I met Non’kuj in Booty Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, first I met Mej, but we didn’t communicate very well.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">There was some laughter at that, and I smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They liked Mej more than me for the most part, but his flaws
glared enough that I could still jab him so long as I didn’t get too bold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am here to help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You can help a great deal,” mused Master Dangi, pulling at the two
wispy strands of white hair spilling from his pointed chin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You are a great wizard, so I am told.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Great with books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not
much of a spellcaster when it comes to fighting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh, you’re being modest, Daj’yah,” interjected Mala’ha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We all heard how you blasted apart
that foolish orc that tried to steal from you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I didn’t blast him apart soon enough to keep from getting stabbed!” I
shot back, sounding angrier than I’d intended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shrank back after speaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Forgive me, it’s been a long journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will help however you see fit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Don’t fret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are
clever, like all us Bone-carvers, and brave, like all us Darkspears.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">When you’ve been living with goblins for a while, it’s easy to forget
that sometimes getting straight to the point is also to miss the point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Master Dangi, Mala’ha, and others all
crowded around me, prodding me with questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The voices you hear growing up never really go away and I
started settling into the familiar current of family gossip, pulling me way
back to the rain-lashed village where I was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The stories I told of Bilgewater Harbor, Mar’at, and Booty Bay weren’t
really that interesting, and there was a time that I’d have been shushed for
speaking of such nonsense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
tribe is the world, but I saw them listening to me that time, or at least
pretending.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I heard their tales too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Master Dangi’s eldest son died in Northrend; his left tusk hangs from
twine around the old man’s neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His younger sons had fared better, making names for themselves as
warriors in Ashenvale and (more recently) in Stranglethorn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not even the orcs think to cross my boys,” he chuckled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How’d you get them out of the Ashenvale front?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We have our ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We serve
the Horde, but blood always comes first.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He didn’t say so much about his daughters, other than little Renshee
(not really so little when I’d last met her, but everyone remembered her as the
baby) had died on the way to Shadowprey Village where her new husband had
lived; he believed the Alliance to be responsible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her older sisters had both married good warriors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mala’ha, to nobody’s surprise, had found herself the best husband in the
tribe (at least, best by the way most women reckoned).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She bragged about him at every possible
moment, brave Ab’gan who’d felled a tiger to bring her its skin (draped that
moment on her shoulders).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I didn’t really blame her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ab’gan is the sort who makes any woman start trembling, and I say this
as someone who’d only met him a few times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they start
pumping out an entire litter of little hunters who are absolutely perfect in
every conceivable way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mala’ha had her own accomplishments to speak of, her arrows snuffing out
our enemies one by one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So you see, little Daj’yah, the men are now running scared since they
know we can fight just as well as them and we can also raise babies,” she
laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mind yourself,” warned Master Dangi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m just making fun, Master Dangi,” she said with a smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He narrowed his eyes as if to say
something, but apparently decided against it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is one good thing the orcs gave us (though they
probably learned some of it from the humans).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What brought you here, anyway?” I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A recently married woman was always expected to start
bearing children, and I wasn’t sure how Mala’ha might have escaped that to risk
her life (and by extenion, the tribe’s) in Stranglethorn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m too good as a huntress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wanted to stay back in Sen’jin like a good wife, but my dear husband
said I couldn’t deprive them of my skill.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Where is Ab’gan?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You want to feast your eyes, Daj’yah?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt myself blushing at her laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really was just curious; it was strange
that he’d be gone, but so much has changed that I no longer knew what to
expect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ab’gan’s celebrating out
with some of the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’ll get to see him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hear him too, he never stops talking about himself,” said Master
Dangi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Daj’yah, as you can see
this is a time for all of our relations to come back together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s good that so many of us live in
different places around the world, but we can’t forget our connections.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s why Non’kuj said I should come here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Loa want us to stand
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For centuries, we have
been retreating, giving way to humans and elves, accepting orcish dominion, and
so forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Zandalari did
nothing to stop this; as the Scourge destroyed Zul’drak, they stood by and did
nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I didn’t mention that the Drakkari had turned against the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suspected he already knew that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s not just the Darkspear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are many Bloodscalps and Skullsplitters among us now, their
daughters married to our sons, their sons fighting bravely alongside us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In truth, it’s not quite as nice as Master Dangi made it sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the Soulflayer was abjured, his
followers in the jungle tribes didn’t know what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of them were so shaken by how
their priests had misled them that they fled and sought sanctuary with us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We made homes for them, in a sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, they are not our kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single Darkspear knows somebody who died at the hands
of these tribes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We nearly
bankrupted ourselves buying offerings to burn at the altar, to make sure the
ancestors did not hate us for accepting the descendents of their killers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Women from the other tribes often marry Darkspear men who aren’t highly
esteemed enough to get women like Mala’ha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bloodscalp and Skullsplitter menfolk, however, have a much
harder time of things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s very tough
for a foreign man to marry into the tribe, even if they prove themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The men also end up being lower in
social stature to those women who married Darkspear men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I’ve heard that a lot of the Bloodscalps and Skullsplitters have
actually found wives among the Revantusk, since so many of Revantusk men get
themselves killed in foolish duels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of course, the Revanusk men aren’t happy about this, so the problems
continue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As you might already know, Zul’gurub is in our possession.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s too big for us to hold
permanently, but while we are there, it is only right that we reconsecrate the
temples to the Loa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have been
left profaned since the Soulflayer’s priests spilled trollish blood on their
altars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The mages here in Bambala are going to conduct a ceremony to cleanse
the temple to Bethekk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are the
only Bone-carver mage that we know, and need to show Bethekk that we are as
much a part of this as any other band.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s a simple matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is just the start, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is plenty more that you can do to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, all things must start with the Loa.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And end with them too,” I sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Over dinner the other Bone-carvers told me more about what they’d been
doing, each and every relation a bigger success than the last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t bother describing my own work,
and nodded my head as their deeds blurred together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It’s an awful thing, I know, to say that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that’s my punishment for not keeping ties with my own
people, to drift even further away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Back in the old days, my profession was a caste apart, too useful to
kill but too strange to hold close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Children plucked out from the tribe by the old masters got to see their
own funerals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember mine, me crying
like mad since I didn’t know what was going on, why they were burying an effigy
with my name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Maybe watching your funeral is fun if you’re the most adorable child in
the village and get to hear everyone making a fuss, but I don’t remember anyone
weeping more than me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It was good, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old
Gu’jomb was not always the clearest thinker, but he wasn’t cruel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking back on it now, he must have
been almost as scared as me, him an old man expected to be a father and teacher
for a strange girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did a good
enough job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The first few days scared me more than anything else, Gu’jomb puttering
around with his reagents and rotting codices while I wailed, as scared of the
surrounding jungle as I was of his foul-smelling hut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up in the village you get used to the sounds of your
family—cousins checking in, aunts scolding, younger children playing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, I heard nothing but the forest
and his whispery chants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He taught me how to read before anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I flinched the first time I saw the Zul’kunda Codex close
up, all those ideograms like monsters ready to leap out from the barksin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gu’jomb tried to calm me, a bit of
frustration creeping into his voice (the older I get, the more I marvel at the
old man’s patience).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I think I finally tired myself out too much to continue my tantrum, and
he continued the lesson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
knobby blue finger pointed to a cluster of green squares dizzy with jagged
meanders, and then to the grand tree outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is a tree, do you understand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not at first, I didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
kept at it though, never upset (though maybe a bit tired) going about it like a
man working the fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tears
dried on my cheeks as I looked closer, the symbol on the codex no longer so
strange.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Things fell into place soon after that, the menacing characters suddenly
the best toys a girl could ever hope to own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came that night when I unfolded the Zul’kunda Codex on
my own to see the words dancing together in perfect order, an abstract world
that I held in my hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I jumped
right into it, reading the holy writ again, a great power in my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I never again missed the sounds of the village.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mala’ha insisted that I spend the night in the hut she shared with her
husband and some friends of theirs from the Silent Steps. <br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should probably check on my friend—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh, he’ll be fine, you spend too much with dead people!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I don’t want to be a bother—“ I began, already knowing that such
excuses only work on humans in books.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What are you talking about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Come on, you’ll get to meet more people.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Minutes later I found myself pressed against the wicker walls of the
temporary hut, every bit as cramped as the goblin bus, but this time with
something much more frightening than strangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mala’ha and Ab’gan joked all night with some friends of
theirs from the Silent Steps, passing around a cask of palm wine that I was
obliged to drink (palm wine’s not my favorite).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A dull pain had been wiggling around the inside of my skull all night,
and the hot noisy room soon became the midwife for the worst headache I’d had
in years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air around my head
seemed to shake and the pain dripped down my spine and into my belly, mixing
with the wine (bad even by the standards of that drink).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ha, you should see what this wild one gets up too, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hey, Daj’yah, who do you like here in
Bambala?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of good men from all
the bands,” said Mala’ha.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ve got some friends who are a bit younger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re good, I think you’ll like them,” added Ab’gan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst part was, I could tell he was
really trying to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Come on, name someone!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe some boy you fancied before Gu’jomb spirited you away?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I opened my mouth as if to say something, and they all doubled over in
gales of laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was I in what
the humans call hell?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The place
felt hot enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s the spirit, who is he?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I started to speak and answered with an eruption of sour wine and
half-digested cassava that splattered all over Mala’ha’s feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fate was merciful enough to let me pass
out moments later.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-2203601762643224102013-05-19T22:56:00.003-07:002013-05-19T22:56:39.644-07:00I'm Published(I'm interrupting the normal flow of updates to let everyone know that one of my stories has been published by the thriving amateur SF press known as Bewildering Stories.<br />
<br />
You can find it here:<br />
<br />
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue526/age_reception1.html<br />
<br />
Please tell me what you think. I've got a number of other stories in varying stages of completion that will also hopefully see the light of day.)Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-38237660812314643252013-05-15T17:10:00.001-07:002013-05-15T22:13:39.213-07:00Booty Bay<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jGVaBHRSCOE/UZQjHkgBdvI/AAAAAAAACcs/EZ7dY8vVRWs/s1600/Undimmed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jGVaBHRSCOE/UZQjHkgBdvI/AAAAAAAACcs/EZ7dY8vVRWs/s400/Undimmed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flaunting its courtesan glamor in the face of catastrophe,
Booty Bay still thrives, the red-roofed houses jewels between the jungle green
and the ocean blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New huts rise
from the ruins of the old like enterprising mushrooms in half-smashed neighborhoods
packed breathlessly layer atop layer with clapboard houses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rainbow flocks soar over the crowded
markets, bold parrots diving down to pluck choice fruits from unwatched
stalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grinning in spite of the rift running up its side, the
statue at Janeiro’s Point still stretches his arms wide in greedy welcome,
ready to grab all that the world has to offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All are welcome so long as they work or spend.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Southern Fortune</i>,
a tramp steamer patched together from the scraps of drowned merchant fleets,
chugged its weary way through the bay’s crowded waters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rafts carrying close to their own
weight in moldy food drifted towards the hull, their owners screaming out the
best deals for their wares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Buckets tethered to the rails dropped down, quick green fingers fishing
out paltry copper and throwing in a few bruised bananas or mangos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The smell of fish coiled through the
humid air in a perfect tropical miasma.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ve not seen a real jungle in years,” remarked
Daj’yah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stood next to me at
the prow, her bare arms crossed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Did you miss it much?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not too often, but I sometimes missed the weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The desert heat near cracked off my
skin.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I remember: you must have gone through an entire cargo
ship’s worth of ointment.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daj’yah and I had left Kalimdor without any trouble, our
meager possessions on our backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hardly a wealthy organization, the Reliquary gave us more than enough
money to buy passage on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Southern Fortune </i>(cheap
as the fare was, I am sure that we were overcharged).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A smile spread across my face seeing Booty Bay again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had not spent much time in the city
but it always held a special place in my memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the first place I visited where the division between
Alliance and Horde mattered little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will never forget how on the day of my arrival, a Stormwinder
noblewoman named Alima Corwyn, had snapped a photo of me, my undeath inspiring
cheerfully morbid curiosity instead of hatred.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I met her again in Dalaran, Alima had reached a
position of influence in Stormwind’s House of Nobles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first focused on domestic affairs, the Northrend Campaign
inspired her to look beyond her kingdom’s borders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, she helps shape Stormwind’s foreign policy, defending
it against the rapacious Horde.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mood darkened at the thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alima’s enthusiasm at seeing a Forsaken was the sign of a
more innocent time, before the world saw the boundless depravity exhibited by
so many of my kindred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose
the Forsaken were just as cruel back then; their deeds had simply been more
obscure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With a last shuddering cough <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Southern Fortune</i> came to a stop at the docks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Passengers and crew alike spilled out
onto the planks, escaping cabins turned into ovens by the sweltering heat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah and I bobbed out like a pair of
awkward giants in the green tide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Booty Bay did not emerge unscathed from the Cataclysm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reports of that day describe a tidal
wave, mountains high, slamming into the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thousands died at the moment of impact and thousands more
drowned as the waters pulled them into the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a single hour the city found its population reduced by
half.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nor were its troubles over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Bloodsail Buccaneers saw a chance to at last destroy
their hated rivals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigands and
displaced jungle warriors answered the call to battle, dreaming of plunder
beneath the pirates’ crimson flag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Metal-plated ships lumbered into the harbor on the day of
the attack, their cannons blazing as savages leapt howling onto the
streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under a sky of smoke, the
air riddled with lead, the natives made their stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Expatriates from both the Horde and the Alliance joined the
Steamwheedle bruisers in defending their battered paradise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the end of the day, the surviving
pirates limped to the southern shore, their power broken.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The town’s resort days are long gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Few can still afford to leave their
homes on distant foreign vacations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fortunately, the jungle offers many gifts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Booty Bay is Azeroth’s last reliable supplier of rubber and
palm oil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those resources had once come to the Horde by way of the
Darkspear Tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, the
Cataclysm brought their efforts to ruin and the Steamwheedle Cartel soon took
their place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Darkspear do not
resent the goblins for this; the loss is seen, to some degree, as the act of
inscrutable gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We made our way past the Old Port Authority and into the
rambling maze of wooden pathways, our path taking us up narrow ramps leading to
the lush mountain slopes and down again to the dank waterline hovels, always
surrounded by a teeming mass collected from every land and clime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Booty Bay has more than regained its
old population, its reputation as a safe spot attracting refugees from two
worlds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boundless potential
ameliorates the grinding poverty, even the most destitute with at least a few
plans for the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goblin
optimism is a virulent and sometimes wonderful contagion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Salty Sailor Tavern is often mentioned in the same
breath as Booty Bay itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Made
from the hull of an old sailing vessel, it’s an obvious icon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately for us, its fame had also
made it very expensive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rooms that
once cost a silver piece a night now demand two gold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lacking those kinds of funds, Daj’yah and I drifted through
town until we found cheaper accommodations in a ramshackle hotel called the
Lazy Turtle, the sign written in both Common and Orcish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A hot tropical squall burst moments after
we entered the common room, the leaky slate-and-pitch roof soon becoming a
shower nozzle.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zbJ6U-mgWtE/UZQjHVdE0AI/AAAAAAAACcY/EX24rdQYXxs/s1600/Lazy+Turtle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zbJ6U-mgWtE/UZQjHVdE0AI/AAAAAAAACcY/EX24rdQYXxs/s400/Lazy+Turtle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We relaxed over drinks before going to our room (which cost
an affordable half-silver).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
ordered coffee in the goblin style (deep black and sugary, sprinkled with
ground peppers), while Daj’yah took a mix of rum and fruit juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rarely drank alcohol, but the
situation seemed to call for it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not the nicest place, but I think I’m tired enough to sleep
right where I’m sitting for a year or so,” she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I don’t know how the living manage to get anything done,” I
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I suppose I can start
looking for employment tomorrow.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We got some funds to last a while, if we’re cheap, but
that’s probably smart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll look
around once I get my bearings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sea
travel’s not to my liking.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From where we sat we could just hear the goblin crooner,
Bozzer Smiley, singing on the radio, his voice fuzzy from interference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t heard any of his music since
Bilgewater Harbor and found I did not recognize the tune.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The song faded out, a crisp announcer’s voice taking its
place, speaking in Orcish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That was Bozzer Smiley’s ‘I Like the Way You Smile at Me’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we’d all like to get a nice
smile or two, but the news I have won’t be bringing many smiles to most of you
out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The station just got
confirmation that the Alliance took Stonard last night.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daj’yah and I both sat up in surprise, blinking at the
radio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblin barkeep idly
cleaned some glasses.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There aren’t too many details yet, but this is definitely a
sad day for the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stonard is
the oldest orcish city on Azeroth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stormwind’s saying that prisoners and civilians are being well-treated,
and—their words, not mine—that this is more than can be said for how the Horde
treats its victims.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s all the news for now; I’ll be back to tell you more
as the story develops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I’m
going to play an Ailee Stanee number called ‘Broken Hearted’, which I think we’re
all feeling right now.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The radio paused before segueing into the voice of a
mournful goblin woman pining for lost love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Destron, you visited Stonard, yeah?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“For a little while,” I said, remembering the archaic mud
huts dating back to the First War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“A lot of people lived there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We hear so much about Kalimdor, we forget about this
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t believe this.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Horde’s presence is minimal south of Lordaeron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stonard never got much support from
Orgrimmar.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That dumb fool warchief probably never heard of the
place!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Losing in Kalimdor, losing
here… Alliance is going to be at Orgrimmar before we know it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I doubt it will get that bad,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d received news in Gadgetzan that
the battle lines in Ashenvale had returned to their pre-Cataclysm state and
that Kaldorei sentinels conducted ever-bolder raids into Horde territory.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We retired for the evening, our moods dampened by the report
and the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah took the
floor with the single bed’s blanket and cushions, unwilling to suffer a
goblin-sized frame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lay down on
the mattress and listened to the rainfall dissipate, the jungle orchestra
losing its percussion for the night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I awoke early in the morning, Daj’yah still sleeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quietly getting dressed, I exited the
room and then the hotel, the common room already torrid.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A blinding sliver of sun crested the jagged eastern
mountains, thick tropical heat inundating the crowded streets where remnants of
the last night’s rain unfurled into vapor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fishing boats of reeds and driftwood bobbed back to the
makeshift docks at the lower level, their catches silver strips in the morning
light.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent most of the morning walking around Booty Bay,
looking for any business that might need a writer or a translator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The city is, if anything, even more
mazelike than it had been before the Cataclysm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Disparate neighborhoods flow into one another without
interruption, and the market plazas snake into the crooked alleys where contrary
traders share buildings (one, jointly occupied by a fruit shop and a noxious
outdoor smithy, somehow did particularly brisk business).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As much as I enjoy goblin cities I felt the need to rest for
a bit, overwhelmed by the sensory input.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I climbed to the top levels of central Booty Bay, where comparatively
spacious houses lounge under the shade of palms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there one can see the city’s bustle without the dirt
and the stink, a paradise scrubbed clean by distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat down beneath one of the palms, wishing only for a
breeze to stir the viscous heat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched the traffic for a while (the upper levels are only
slightly less crowded than the lower and the middle).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure that the goblins make up more than a plurality,
so common are the members of other races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At one point, a rainbow-scaled murloc waddled up to me, carrying a tray
of colored glass baubles and trinkets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The murloc croaked expectantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Examining his (or her) wares, I pointed at a dirty tin brooch engraved
with the crest of old Lordaeron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The murloc held up two spindly fingers and I handed over a pair of
copper coins, after which I received the brooch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Croaking again, the murloc walked away in search of more
customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I examined the piece, speculating
from where it had first come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Given that the symbols of Lordaeron are a key part of Alliance
iconography, it might have been problematic for me to wear it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, at that point, I was no longer
sure the Horde even wanted me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An approaching figure caught my eye, a slightly built
Forsaken woman, her dried black hair raggedly bobbed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Decay marred her but little though her empty eyes shone with
ghost-light visible even in the noontime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I knew I had seen her, and tried to place a name to the familiar
features.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Felya?” I called out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She turned at the sound of her name, an expression of
delight on her bloodless face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, I remember you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The traveler, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Destron, was it?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Correct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
actually a bit surprised you still remember me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ve got a perfect memory!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So what brings you back to Booty Bay?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Circumstance and curiosity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the moment, I’m looking for work.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Believe me, there’s no better place for it in all Azeroth!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might be able to find something for
you; what exactly are you looking for?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I can write, research, translate—anything along those
lines.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perfect!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have a dear friend who runs the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dispatch</i>,
it’s simply the best newspaper in town!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s always on the lookout for talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where are you staying?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Lazy Turtle.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I can get you something better.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Felya found us an affordable place in Portview Arms, a
residence hotel straddling the middle and lower levels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Portview Arms buzzes with constant
activity, hucksters and clerks rubbing elbows in the narrow hallways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Light-fingered merchants slouch in the
lobby, merchandise flitting from pocket to sleeve under the dim lamps.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daj’yah and I made do with an apartment designed for a
single human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lumpy bed huddled
in the corner, practically lost in the shadow of an immense dresser.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A writing desk, probably designed for a
dwarf, squatted next to the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>West-facing windows turned the apartment into a furnace come
sunset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cramped kitchen and a
coffin-like washroom adjoined the main room.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We decided that to make the place our own, we both needed a
comfortable place to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pooling our funds we purchased a fine hammock from an island troll
merchant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking it home, we drove
stout nails into studs on the north and south walls and tied the hammock to
them so that it spread across the room like an oversized banner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For all its heat and griminess, we felt a curious freedom in
that apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d at last
escaped the shadow of the Horde, our pasts severed and the future stretching
before us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Felya had coaxed me a proofreading
job at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay Dispatch</i>, an Orcish-language
newspaper owned by goblins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d
arranged for Daj’yah to work directly for the Steamwheedle Cartel as an arcane
researcher.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ve done more than a few good turns for the Steamwheedle,
it’s really nothing,” insisted Felya.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no rule forbidding Horde subjects from working for
neutral powers like the Steamwheedle Cartel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, doing so was not without risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless, Daj’yah accepted the
job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We discussed the matter on
the night before her first day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You’re sure this is safe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This position might make you more visible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though we’re in neutral territory,
some of those partisans might still be seeking to avenge their murderous
friend,” I said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m not sure it’s safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you know, you can die anytime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I’ll fall out of my hammock tonight and crack open my
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, the Steamwheedle
Cartel protects its own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If some
Horde rascal starts up trouble here in Booty Bay, the bruisers will make him
behave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This might be really good for me, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love to learn, to study, all
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Orgrimmar, my kin think
I’m a silly girl who doesn’t know how to live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the elves, I’m a funny savage who knows how to write.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe here, I’m thinking, I can do what
I love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goblins don’t care much
about how you live.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Socially, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They will care that about you being profitable.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sure, sure, but I’m good at this!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you’re good at it, the goblins are happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, Bilgewater Harbor wasn’t much
to my liking, but this place feels a bit different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it’s just the weather here that’s making me say
foolish things.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, it’s not foolish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This could be a wonderful opportunity.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’ll see, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m thinking, I’m always sort of lonesome, and most sorts don’t like me
for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here, maybe it’s okay for
me to be lonely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe no one
minds.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The offices of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay
Dispatch</i> are contained in a bulky shingle-roofed structure near the Old
Port Authority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened the door
and stepped into what felt like a fog of stale ink, the room shaken by the
metallic grunts of titanic printing machines that reached up to the
ceiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goblins scurried across
the workspace, half-pushing half-tackling rickety metal carts that banged
against every uneven floorboard, papers bucked fluttering into the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beneath all this ran a curious and
steady sound, like a hundred machines giving applause.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My supervisor was a fat and phlegmatic goblin named Olzim,
who walked me to my desk, his quiet voice unheard in the chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spotted clerks tapping away at
curious metal arrays filled with a dizzying number of circular buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My desk was one of four tucked away
into the back of the office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
gray-haired orcish woman sat at one, while young goblins occupied the other two.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Felya’s a good friend to the city, so I’m happy to give
jobs to her friends, but you still have to earn your keep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve hired northerners in my day; some
turned out good, some flaked out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyhow, your job is to look at printed articles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mark them up if you see any mistakes in
formatting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re my fourth
proofreader; Akuray over there is the senior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have any questions, ask her.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He pointed to orc, who was completely absorbed in examining
an article.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Thank you, sir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I won’t disappoint.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The job was simple, if perhaps busier than I’d
expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found few actual
spelling errors though a wealth of extra spaces and unnecessary punctuation awaited
me in most articles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly
became acclimated to finding these minute imperfections, slashing them out in
red ink.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned that the noisy machines on the desks of so many
writers were called typewriters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
relatively recent invention, they have not yet reached the shores of Kalimdor
but are common in Khaz Modan, Stormwind, and adjacent regions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a bit relieved that I would not
have to use such a complicated device.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is also where I found out about the telephone, a kind of real-time
telegraph that transmits voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
soon stopped noticing its unpleasant jangle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My team was the last to look at an article before it went
into print.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dispatch</i> is a daily paper, we had very
little time for socializing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did
speak a bit with Akuray, who’d been working with the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dispatch</i> since its creation, around the time of the Outland
Campaign.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Born into Blackrock peonage shortly after the First War,
Akuray had faced a life of slave labor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A clever child, she’d attracted the attention of the relatively
intellectual Stormreaver Clan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They taught me to read and to write,” she reminisced during
one of our rare breaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Women
were not supposed to know such things, but the Stormreavers knew how to use me
to their advantage.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What did you do for them, exactly?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I served the warriors of the Blackrock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My job was to read their messages,and
report my findings to a wretched old Stormreaver named Kuls,” she said, her
brow furrowing when she said his name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“No one in the Blackrock knew I could read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned to do it quickly, and then tell Kuls what I knew.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What sorts of messages were these?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Typical warrior talk, boastful and foolish.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No one in the Blackrock Clan ever suspected Akuray, so she
suffered no punishment when the Stormreaver Clan betrayed the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She snuck onto a fleeing goblin ship as
the orcish war machine fell to pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When discovered, she convinced the captain to spare her by volunteering
for debt slavery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I became the property of a goblin named Miggy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He left me alone so long as I did my
work.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Which was?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Translating advertisements into Orcish!” she chuckled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Miggy thought that the orcs in
Kezan—who were few in number—would enjoy buying luxury clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went deep into debt himself and I
got away from him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miggy wasn’t
cruel, but he was an idiot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I worked in whatever jobs I could find on Kezan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the Steamwheedle Cartel opened up
Booty Bay, I decided to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turned
out to be a wise decision.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What did you think of Thrall?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She shrugged.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Beyond the grand words, he didn’t really sound so different
from the old warriors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is no
surprise to me that Garrosh now rules.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Akuray had done well for herself in Booty Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lived in relative comfort with
another displaced orcish woman, with whom she was romantically involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orcish society has no taboo against
homosexuality among the warrior caste (though warriors are expected to produce
children—exclusive homosexuality is frowned upon), but it is strictly forbidden
to peons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay Dispatch</i>
is an independent news organ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Originally catering to Horde visitors to Booty Bay, its reputation
eventually earned it a wider audience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The paper’s official stance is one of neutrality, and it is one of the
few Orcish language publications to criticize the Horde’s policy (there are
also clandestine samizdat pieces floating about Orgrimmar, but they are few and
necessarily obscure). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one point, according to Akuray, Alliance representatives
had approached the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay Dispatch</i>
wanting to turn the paper into something more intentionally subversive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though tempted by the cash being
offered, the owners refused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
realized that being too pro-Alliance might provoke the Horde—there had already
been incidents with orcish hotheads defacing the building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I sat at that desk I felt the pulse of the world in my
fingertips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stories from the far
corners of the globe and even beyond came to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before my eyes the Dark Iron Empire lost itself in the
throes of ruin even as their former empress consolidated her power in Khaz
Modan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alliance troops held the
line at the Arathi Highlands, breaking the Forsaken advance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So too did I read the stories of mass
slaughter in Hillsbrad, its once-thriving towns rendered into toxic hells.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told this to Daj’yah one night as I lay in bed, the last
flush of sunset disappearing into the ocean.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I fear I’m not any better,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That the same evil is inside me,
waiting to come out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That the
Scarlet Crusade was right.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Destron, that’s foolish,” she chided from the hammock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’ve done good by me, by the
Darkbriar Lodge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You got in
trouble doing good back in Uldum, yeah?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I suppose it is a bit silly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am curious as to why there’s so little outcry in the
Horde.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You said yourself that the humans wanted to kill all of
you, even before Wrathgate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Forsaken know this and hold together.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They’ve gone far beyond the bounds of defensive
solidarity.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sure, but what I mean is that most probably see it as them
being protected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Darkspear did
bloody and savage things back in Stranglethorn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of us complained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Same thing in Undercity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
humans—dead or living—aren’t that different from us trolls.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What worries me is that they know it’s unnecessary, and do
it anyway.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s hard to really know anything in this world.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“True.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too
true.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*********</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daj’yah and I sometimes joined Felya on her social
outings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three years in Booty Bay,
combined with insatiable curiosity, had brought her to every hidden corner of
the city, from the arakkoa-run tavern smelling of fermented carrion to an
elegant floating café in the southern waters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Felya enjoyed a fair amount of respect in the city thanks to
her efforts in fighting off the pirates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She recounted the battle to us when we met one evening at a nameless
dockside coffee stand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Quite a battle it was, a marvelous sight as such things go,
not that I really know the aesthetics of war, or if there even are aesthetics
for such a thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thundering
cannons, me in the Old Port Authority ripping out minds with pure shadow—a
grand thing to see!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You seem real fond of fighting,” remarked Daj’yah.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Light wants us to be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fighting’s not my favorite thing, but if I must do it, I may
as well have a good time.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since then, she’d used her influence to help out the
Forsaken expatriate community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Generally speaking, these Forsaken do not reject Sylvanas on ethical
grounds; rather, they fled Lordaeron so that they might enjoy undeath on their
own terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fSsTVWeORrI/UZQjHF-pyvI/AAAAAAAACcU/e_yEr1xPr0I/s1600/Every+Which+Way.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fSsTVWeORrI/UZQjHF-pyvI/AAAAAAAACcU/e_yEr1xPr0I/s400/Every+Which+Way.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I attended a party at Felya’s house a few weeks into my
Booty Bay sojourn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d invited
most of the notable Forsaken so as to celebrate a new arrival by the name of Melius
Lucaram, recently from Undercity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I went alone, Daj’yah choosing to spend the night reading an old
Lordaeronian novel that she’d purchased from a nearby bookstore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The book in question was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tarrow Hall</i>, and was considered a
classic in the genre of provincial literature (which features rural noble
families in genteel decline).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d
never read it myself, though I remember several friends recommending it to me
back in Dalaran, saying it was much more exciting than most books of its kind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Felya lived in a small house on the middle tier, wedged
between a combination hardware/woodworking store and a typist’s academy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The party was well underway by the time
of my arrival and I opened the door to find the small parlor wall-to-wall with
that rarest of things: happy Forsaken.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps happy is a bit too strong of an adjective, but the
conviviality was undeniable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
burned man in a dapper modern suit gave me a lipless smile as I entered, as a
shambling wreck of a woman, the wounds on her face looking almost fresh,
chatted with another whose body was held together by thick stitches.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Destron!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
marvelous that you could make it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Drinks are on the table; they’re a bit stronger than normal ones, so do
watch yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or not!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Felya slunk through the crowd and hugged me, her sleeved
arms light from a lack of flesh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Everyone!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
want you to meet Destron Allicant!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s a very dear friend of mine who travels all over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter what part of Azeroth or
Outland you’re thinking of, he’s probably been there at least twice.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few guests clapped, one raising a glass filled with a
steaming liquid the color of veins under skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Felya guided me to the drinks, telling me more about Melius.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s a writer, in fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Undercity used to be quite the place for artistic souls, but
nowadays anyone who’s anyone lives here in Booty Bay.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What did he write?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Novels about the Forsaken experience, I guess bordering a
bit on what the goblins call speculative fiction?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be honest I’ve not yet gotten around to reading his work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still getting through a volume of
Rozgom Granitebeard’s short stories,” she said, referring to the great realist
dwarven writer of the last century.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s been a good deal of disturbing news from up north, Felya,” I
said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, how terrible!” she exclaimed, putting her tattered
hands to her cheeks in mock chagrin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“But you’ll find a splendid escape from it here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaning in closely, she whispered:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There are at least a few spies from Undercity here in Booty
Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know for a fact that Morsen—the
man in corner wearing the ratty blue coat—is one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Janesta might be another.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are we in danger?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not really, but be careful all the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of us are here for explicitly
political reasons, though none of us particularly like the current regime
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sylvanas has a few lackeys
watching in case someone tries to raise an army to fight her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silly, it’s not as if any of us have
the means to do so, but there you have it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ve been seeing these horrible reports—“</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not now, please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You won’t convince anyone by ruining their fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all read the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay Dispatch</i>, so we know what’s happening up there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the reasons we’re down here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She laughed, as if in response to a joke, and excused
herself to converse with some other guests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure what else to do, I walked over to the table where a
goblin wearing a loud checkered suit held court, the lone representative of the
living in the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He surrounded
himself with a bewildering array of bottles, more than a few labeled with
skulls and crossbones.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’ll it be for you, sir?” he asked, grinning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I haven’t any idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Are you a bartender?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jeg Dozzer, at your service!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a man who likes a challenge, and I told myself: ‘Jeg, if
there’s anyone who can make a brew that the Forsaken will love, it’s you.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I did!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Felya knew that it’s not any kind of Forsaken party unless
I’m there serving drinks: she is a woman of very discriminating taste, after
all.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Inded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
are designed specifically for undead palates?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Each and every one!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Brave volunteers—some of whom are in this very room—tested them out, and
found them perfect!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“When I was alive, I was rather partial to dry red
wines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How does that translate
into undeath?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think you’d enjoy what I call the Spiral of
Memories!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Has a number of
different ingredients: fermented grapes, earthroot starch, a touch of
formaldehyde.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll try it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jeg got to work, hands darting to various bottles and
pouring precise amounts into a metal canister, stopping occasionally to shake
the concoction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When finished, he
poured it into a tall glass and handed it to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Here you are!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I examined the pale green liquid, foggy black corkscrews of
some foreign substance rotating in the drink .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raising it to my lips, an ammonia-like smell jolted my
denuded senses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Closing my eyes, I
took a sip, a thick and sour taste seeping into my tongue.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Impressed, I took another look at the beverage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tasting it had made me feel almost
alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The memory of sensation
alight in my mind, I felt a bit of weight lift from my shoulders.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is quite good.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You don’t need to tell me, but thanks all the same!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mood improved by Jeg as much as by his drink, I decided
to mingle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran into Melius
Lucaram a bit later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned out
to be a congenial young man, his gossamer face pulled tight against his skull.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You probably had the right idea leaving Tirisfal when you
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s gotten a lot worse over
the past few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially
after Wrathgate, though you could see where it was headed well before that dark
day.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is that what you write about?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What I write about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Heh, I’m always asked about what inspires me, and the truth is I haven’t
any idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I start writing, and
then when I look back on it I find it seems to describe the world around me,
but that’s never my goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Putting
words to paper lets me forget myself—and everyone needs to be able to do that.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m afraid I haven’t read any of your novels.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nothing to worry about, most people haven’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Steamwheedle press specializing in
the avant-garde picked up my work, which is how I got here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They call me the ‘soul of the Forsaken,’
on the dust jackets!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“At least they think we have souls.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We do, dark though they may be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To me, the key thing about the Forsaken, what really defines
us, is that there’s no need for social mores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Humans stick together because they need big societies to
grow food, manufacture tools, defend people, and all that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take them back to a more primitive
state, and all that will still exist, just on a smaller scale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Social animals, as it were.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“With the Forsaken, all that’s gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can get by very well just scavenging
on whatever biological detritus we can find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent months living on moss and rats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe we need to defend ourselves from
the humans, but what’s the point, really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re a doomed race, and most Forsaken hate themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Social mores?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a joke!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s no point because none of us need each other, and there aren’t
even going to be children to teach them to.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“From what I’ve seen,” I said, “the Forsaken are banding
together more than ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
opposite of what you’re describing.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Precisely!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sylvanas, or whoever, realized that if she was going to stay in power,
she needed to give us a common identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s why you see all this tripe about the Forsaken being the new
Lordearon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She’s given the Forsaken purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A reason to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Cult of the Forgotten Shadow is becoming more tendentious by the
day, the war produces new heroes of undeath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Society now exists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We needed to develop one, no question; shame it couldn’t be more
civilized.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How much do normal Forsaken know about the massacres?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not the full amount, but more than you’d think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my experience, the people are
usually aware on some level of what their leaders do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As long as its kept out of sight, no one really objects,
because they’ll be killed if they do and they might well be beneficiaries of
all this.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’d hardly say that makes them criminals on the same level
as Sylvanas.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I agree!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
just saying that no one has clean hands.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Besides Melius, few of the guests had much interest in discussing the
Forsaken psyche or homeland, most preferring to gossip or discuss their
projects. I suppose I cannot blame them; the focus on aesthetics provided
a glossy sheen over our own helplessness. Taking a few more drinks from
the table I felt the foggy lightness of delirium, my concerns slipping away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Felya returned to me as I examined a set of framed photographs set up on
the wall, Outland in black-and-white.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I took some of those myself!" she boasted. "I'm
just a dilettante photographer, but I do love it when the elements all dance
together for that perfect image."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I didn't know that you'd visited Outland."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I was a proud vagrant there for a little over a year, just after
the Dark Portal reopened. Mostly Zangarmarsh, Nagrand, and Terokkar; the
other regions weren't really to my taste, from what I saw."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Did you ever set foot on Northrend?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I did, actually. Saw the Howling Fjord, the Grizzly Hills, Sholazar,
a bit of the Borean Tundra. I never got much farther than that. I
almost went to Dragonblight, went as far as the flow separating it from Borea.
I felt something heavy in the air there, pushing down on me. Some
inner voice piped up, said I'd be sorry if I took another step forward.
So I turned around and sailed to Booty Bay, never looked back."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4mOE3l9QK-k/UZQjGrQOXpI/AAAAAAAACcI/wtSUzoQFFJA/s1600/Ain%2527t+No+Party+Like+an+Undead+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4mOE3l9QK-k/UZQjGrQOXpI/AAAAAAAACcI/wtSUzoQFFJA/s400/Ain%2527t+No+Party+Like+an+Undead+Party.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"You probably made the right decision," I sighed.
"It turns out there's no real good reason for a Forsaken to go up
there."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"You heard him too?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"In Icecrown. It's like you said, something in the air,
embedded in the rock. Even though he's dead I’m sure I’ll hear him again
if I were to return."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Why did you go?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Damned if I know. I thought I'd forgotten him, but it was
still there in the back of my mind."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"He never goes away. That doesn't mean he has to ruin things
for you. I run—run away to places where it's sunny, where there's a new
adventure every day! Maybe he's still there, but it's hard to hear him
when you're having fun."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Felya put a frayed hand on my shoulder, her pallid face lighting up with
a gentle smile as she raised her glass in a toast. I returned the
gesture, my own drink nearly empty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">While working I sometimes saw familiar names jump out from the
print.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the individuals I'd
met in passing had made their names in battle or in activism. Ona
Wildmane, for instance, cautioned the Cenarion Circle to not overdo the
regrowth in Desolace, lest it become a second nightmare jungle like what
sprouted in the Barrens. In the Howling Fjord, Father Vanya brokered
peace between Stormwind colonists and the native Kirovi, his kindness and
charisma winning him many friends on both sides.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">So too did a more worrisome name, specifically that of the Zenith.
It soon seemed as if there was not a single action in which Zenith
partisans were not somehow involved. They never warranted more than a
brief mention—"Alliance forces aided by Zenith volunteers",
"armed by Zenith smugglers", "Zenith partisans scouted out the
territory"—but made up for it by always being near the action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Horde partisans also showed up in the news though somewhat less
often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Horde militias are usually
smaller in number and more focused on aiding specific campaigns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s nothing like Zenith, which is
involved in every front and helps smaller militias achieve recognition and
influence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suspect that this
reflects the Horde’s increasingly fractious nature; those who defend tauren
interests may not care to help the Forsaken, and vice versa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Towards the end of a long day, the damp air broiling in the stuffy later
afternoon heat, I received an article referring to a familiar Horde
militia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read it three times
before really examining it for error, my mind elsewhere as I marked stray
letters in red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When it came time
to close I took out a blank sheet and transcribed the article’s contents by
hand, keeping the corrections out of habit, and finally made my exit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I returned to our room in the Portview Arms to find Daj’yah already
there, standing at the window to escape the room’s stagnant heat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron,” she greeted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I found an article today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think it will be of interest to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I handed her the paper and she began to read, her expression growing
more intent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You sure this is right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Perhaps not in all the specifics, but the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dispatch</i>’s sources are quite reliable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The article described the fate of Ancestral Fury, the partisan militia
whose actions had forced our departure from Orgrimmar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An example of the orcish warrior ethos
at its most aggressive, they’d sacrified themselves in a delaying action at the
Ashenvale front, allowing settlers and wounded troops time to escape the
Kaldorei.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Horde hailed the fallen partisans as heroes for their valor, citing
them as a fine example for other orcs to follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two of Ancestral Fury’s members still survived; they had
been recuperating from injuries at the time of the battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of that pair, one had already struck
deep into the forest, intent on avenging his fallen brethren.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other, a junior warrior named Skor
Coldblade, was quoted as intending to join a different militia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah put the paper down on her lap, her face unreadable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So, heroes of the Horde,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I thought you should know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole thing
is just very strange to me, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thieves and killers against my people, and now even bigger heroes to the
orcs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think I know how the humans
feel now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember Thrall saying
that we were his people too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hasn’t been that way for a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it never really was like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I doubt Ancestral Fury will be troubling us any longer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered at myself, callous enough to
feel relief at the deaths of Horde warriors who had—in however misguided a
fashion—died so that others might live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet still they had robbed from their allies, and one of them had tried
to kill my only true friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You know, this doesn’t mean it’s over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That survivor might take his grudge to a new group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The warchief loves him now, so maybe
he’ll complain about me to the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They can’t hurt you here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They can still hurt my people!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It never ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it
doesn’t matter so much now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like
you said, I’m far from home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She stood up, going back to the window and leaning outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah supported herself by putting
her hands on the walls, the window too small for a troll to comfortably use.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This room is killing me,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The Steamwheedle archives are roasting hot, and this isn’t
any better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going outside for
a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Care for some company?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We walked out onto the street, crowded with the evening vendors and
buyers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the handful of
motorcars in Booty Bay (the city is not really designed for such vehicles)
rumbled past, more gnomes than was really safe packed into the backseat,
singing and raising drinks in their hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Black clouds in the shapes of anvils bore down from the
north, the setting sun’s red light lost in darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you have any particular destination in mind?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly I just
want to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That room’s just too
small for me, you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I might be able to ask Felya for a bigger one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, it’s nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
I’ll be living in goblin cities for a while, so I may as well get used to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That or hire someone to put together
one of those gnomish shrink rays I keep hearing about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m reasonably certain those are fictional.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Come on, Destron, I know that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was making a joke.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We wandered as the sun’s light disappeared, lampposts and oil torches
taking its place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heavy smell
of ozone wove itself into the normal stench of rubbish and smoke, a herald for
the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered a drier
night years ago in Orgrimmar, the two of us again wandering without any
destination other than away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I looked to Daj’yah, wondering how well I really understood her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps I saw something of myself
during the early days of my unwanted resurrection, when I shunned the world to
nurture obsession in Undercity’s darkest pits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is unfair, however; Daj’yah has never demonstrated
anything close to the level of spite I once felt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">How much have I truly changed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I imagined myself embracing the world with abandon, interacting with its
varied inhabitants, yet in truth I know most of them but little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I drift from place to place, making
little in the way of meaningful connection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah is my only real friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Dead heroes or not, I think I’ll count this a good day,” she remarked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">They died
defending the Horde</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">, I thought, but remained silent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What would that even mean to her at
such a point?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did that even
mean to me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I suppose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their last
actions were rather heroic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Heroism is a funny word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Back when I was a girl, there was this Bloodscalp, Vok’tan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His people called him a hero, the
hunter with spears that killed as sure as lightning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He killed plenty of my people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And then my cousin, three times removed, Mako’ba, the warrior with the
mad red hair and the sharp ax.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
did things twice as cruel as Vok’tan, and we all called him great.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you still consider him great?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As someone moral?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone
to look up to?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we’ve had
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as someone who
probably saved my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
just forget something like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
hero is just a bloody-minded type who’s on your side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not even sure how much of a Darkspear I really am, but
when someone risks his life to save you, it means something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ancestral Fury
defended the Darkspear indirectly</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Again, I remained silent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’d tried to kill her, and I cannot fault her for hating them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot claim I felt particularly
badly about their destruction (the guilt instead rising from my lack of
sadness).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some part of me
rejoiced, and imagined striking the killing blow against those who’d tormented
my best friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My feelings did not change the reality of the situation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Chance took us to the edges of Dega Street, the haunt of expatriate
artists and professional paupers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cafes,
galleries, and theaters compete for space in the street’s labyrinthine course
while clusters of single-room apartments scrabble for hold on the aging
roofs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A fat raindrop splashed on my brow and I looked up to see heavy
nighttime clouds covering the sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How do you feel about walking in the rain tonight?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Let’s step inside for a bit, see if we can wait out the storm.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We selected a nearby cabaret, “Frolic in the Tropics” written over the
doorway in letters of sputtering light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ducking under the frame we emerged into dim room, the tables so tightly
packed so as to make movement nearly impossible, though goblin servers performed
their work with the peculiar grace for which they are known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Taking a seat near the back, our gaze turned to the stage, where a
furbolg in odd black and white makeup swayed as a pair of goblins accompanied
him (or her, I am not sure) with a horn and ukulele.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I think that furbolg is supposed to be a pandaren,” said Daj’yah,
squinting her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must confess that I don’t know how a
pandaren is supposed to look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
whole phenomenon is very odd.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Phenomenon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The idea of there being this great but somehow obscure empire full of
jolly beer-drinking creatures.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You know, Destron, I’ve met Chen Stormstout.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I beg your pardon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The pandaren who helped found Orgrimmar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, I did not really know him, but I used to see him
with Thrall, Rexxar, and Rokhan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
overheard him talking to Vol'jin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry, I shouldn’t
have scoffed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does seem very strange
however.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What doesn’t, these days?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“True enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
admit—and I apologize for my parochialism—that I always figured Chen was simply
a furbolg warrior of unusual coloration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’d be easy to make that sort of mistake, especially when learning the
ways of a new land.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, Chen was no furbolg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The pandarens don’t really look much like furbolgs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So where are all the others?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Chen’s the only one I ever saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some of us thought they’d all join the Horde, but that never
happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know if he ever
mentioned any great empire, so maybe that’s just something people made up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did say he came from an island of
some sort.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So you’d say
the fellow on stage isn’t the best approximation?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Probably the best they can do right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chen seemed like a good type; I hope his home—wherever it
is—survived the Cataclysm.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Light applause filtered up from the audience as the troupe finished
their performance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A waitress
glided past to take our orders; I ordered coffee while Daj’yah went with tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We sat there for several hours, saying little beyond occasional comments
on the performances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not very
good at small talk, and it is a great relief to have a friend with whom
conversation is not always necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is enough to take in the sights, to experience the world knowing that
neither of us is alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Rain still drummed on the rooftop when we stood up to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nearing the door, Daj’yah paused, her
attention grabbed by an older, powerfully built troll leaning against the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mej?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah, I remember you,” he grunted with a nod, still keeping a golden
eye on the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Never thought
to see you back in Stranglethorn.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Times change, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Destron, this is Mej, another Darkspear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A hunter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The best in my generation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When Thrall said he needed good men in Stranglethorn, I jumped right
ahead and volunteered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Made a name
for myself in Grom’gol.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You’re a long way from there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Like you said, Daj’yah, times change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Darkspear need to stand on their own; Garrosh doesn’t care
about us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mm hmm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are you doing
here in Booty Bay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mostly keeping an eye out for the tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still a lot of us here, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We put a lot of hard work into this place, only for the
Cataclysm to wipe it all out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s
why we put our feet back on the soil, spears pointed forward.“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I did not hear of this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure, a year ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all
the Bloodscalp and Skullsplitter liked this so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Gurubashi even less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All that, and they weren’t even close to the toughest we
fought.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spoke in a tone of
exaggerated insouciance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So you’re still
fighting them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I heard about some fighting in Stranglethorn, but I didn’t know the
Darkspears were involved,” I said, rather shocked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mej dropped the Orcish and began speaking in Zandali, shooting me a
knowing look as he spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
refused to reward him with any visible reaction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he stopped talking, Daj’yah narrowed her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You, uh, have to forgive Mej.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His Orcish isn’t very good,” she said, Mej scowling in the shadows at
her comment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mej, Destron here
has helped the tribe. He is not one of us, but he is a friend, so show him some
respect, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And get to the
point with your story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Respect? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You talk of
respect when trying to bring abominations into tribal matters?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah threw her hands in the air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do whatever you want, Mej. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll find out from someone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She stormed out of the theater and I hurried to keep pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warm rains crashed down from the sky, a
trio of drunken human celebrants lurching from side to side as they danced
along the slippery boards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What was that all about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m not sure yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mej was
a warrior in my old village, when I was just a little girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I take it you didn’t care for him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mej used to say my mother should be given over to the Skullsplitter as
an—“ she hissed, her left arm cutting through the air “—as an insult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That she was so crazy her only use was
to mock our foes with a bad gift.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah, that’s terrible.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“She was mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what
happens when you aren’t useful to the tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll probably pay for mocking him, but I don’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Abomination indeed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re only about a dozen sizes too
small to be one of those.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ha ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose I’m not a
very good likeness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps if I
bulk up he’ll be more impressed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mej knows so little about anything that if you did walk in as an
abomination, he’d probably start calling you a dryad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’d hate to see where that conversation leads.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She laughed for half a minute after that, some of the tension leaving
her form.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Mej was telling me some truly strange news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We aren’t fighting any more, but there’s a lot of Darkspears
in Stranglethorn now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some others
too, to hear him talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept
hinting that there was something bigger, but he wouldn’t come out and say it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mej always tried to make things sound
more important than they were,” she scoffed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Wouldn’t you have heard of this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Aren’t too many Darkspears in Bilgewater and Uldum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I never saw any mention of it in the news.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Just a tribal fight, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Had them all the time when I was a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mej was trying to get me to help the tribe out in the
jungle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Will you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m happy here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my
people are still my people, even if I don’t much like them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll look for more reliable types here,
learn more about what’s happening.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should not have insulted Mej like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s my kin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But so was my mother.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
shoulders slumped, the brief good mood undone by the reality of tribal
politics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Would you like to go back and apologize?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, that would look weak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Folks in the village weren’t much liking him either; he had a way of
saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was cruel to my mother simply so he’d have someone to be cruel to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We returned to our hotel without further event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lay in bed for a while, listening to
the rain, seeking an answer for what had transpired. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Part of me worried that Daj’yah had put herself at undue risk
with her dismissal of Mej.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
certainly understood her reaction, however.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The air boiled like soup the next day, the heat wringing steam from the
damp boards and shingles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both
Daj’yah and I had the day to ourselves and I stepped out early to pick up a
copy of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Global News</i> (I rarely
read the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bay Dispatch</i> outside of
work, partly for fear of stumbling across typos that I might have missed).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">An aged troll sat in the lobby of the Portview Arms, his wrinkles adding
new depths to the coiling tattoos running all about his arms and
shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The skull-topped staff
in his right hand marked him as a man of importance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Green eyes, sharp even in age, focused on me as I entered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, you are Daj’yah’s friend, yes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is she up and about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Forgive me, I do not know the times kept by city folk,” he said, his
voice a sing-song whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You must have just missed her,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I believe she went out a little while ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure where she might be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That is fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am Non’kuj,
a Darkspear, and I need to talk to her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can let her know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What,
may I ask, is this about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Some tribal matters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
might involve you as well, undead, but I must speak to her first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blood is blood, you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind racing, I
went out and purchased the latest paper, looking up at the window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized I was being a bit
absurd; the Darkspear never kill or hurt their own people over mere insults;
they have insult contests to take care of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, given the strange circumstances of the time, I no
longer felt sure of many things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I hurried back inside, nodding at Non’kuj as I passed again through the
parlor, and returned to our room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Daj’yah still slept in the hammock and I woke her by clearing my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s going on?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sorry to wake you, but you have a visitor: Non’kuj.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Non’kuj?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s an old
troll, Darkspear?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She nimbly got out of the hammock, quickly throwing on a robe and tying
back her wiry red hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He’s not any sort of trouble, is he?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s a shaman, a very
wise man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t seen him in
forever, though!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even
know he was still alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think it’s about Mej last night?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If it is, there’s no need to worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Non’kuj didn’t much like him either.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you want me
to go with you, or should I just stay here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stay here for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a
shaman, you know how they get about traditions sometimes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She slipped out the door moments later, and I buried myself into the
newspaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No longer worried, but
still unable to concentrate, I kept looking up at the door in hopes of seeing
Daj’yah, curious to learn what transpired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I’d finally gotten focused on an article discussing the robust recovery
of the furbolg population on Azuremyst Isle when Daj’yah came back inside,
looking much calmer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So yeah, the
tribe wants my help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your help
too, if you can offer it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What sort of help?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Might just be training mages, or getting them supplies from Booty
Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, remember how I was
saying Mej was trying to make things sound grander than they were, last night?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not just him boasting, it turns out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My people—we didn’t just fight the local tribes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We fought the Zandalari.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah took in a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We fought the Zandalari, and we won.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-13707741097751914822013-05-07T17:17:00.000-07:002013-05-07T17:17:43.253-07:00The Wages of Diplomacy
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Reeg quickly finished his work in the Skywall (he refused to discuss it in detail)
and returned to Azeroth in the late afternoon with me in tow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going back and forth between worlds is
a disorienting experience, and I stepped into Spirra’s zeppelin with a vague
sense of unreality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I can’t help but think myself rather foolish for expositing and
speculating on the Skywall or any other elemental plane after encountering such
a minute portion of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One may as
well claim to understand Azeroth after spending an afternoon in the Horde
embassy of Dalaran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For all my
travels, I increasingly wonder how well I really comprehend my own world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was pleasantly surprised to hear Spirra offer to fly me back to
Mar’at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She explained that Reeg
owed her a week’s vacation, and that she’d always been curious to see more of
the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Considering that she
actually owned a Virtic phrasebook (of admittedly dubious provenance), she was
likely better prepared than I.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Flying over the deserts I found myself looking down for some sign of the
Ptath Band, knowing well the futility of my attempt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closer we got to Mar’at, the more doubtful my actions
seemed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first departure from
Undercity, years ago, had opened up a vista of unparalleled freedom, the world
malleable to anyone with sufficient enterprise and daring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Modern politics reveal the world as a
cage, bound by history and resentment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No action, however well-intentioned, is without consequence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We reached Mar’at late at night, streets lit by the glow of stone
lanterns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanting to go back to
Brightblade Hall, I thanked Spirra for her help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Don’t mention it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saving
my life is something that’s hard to repay through simple goods and services,
but I think we’re getting close to even.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If my existence ever needs saving, I won’t stop you,” I laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I drifted aimlessly around the night-side streets for a while, not quite
remembering Brightblade Hall’s location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I came about it by accident, the scarlet of the Reliquary flag rippling
like blood in torchlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Climbing
the steps, I knocked on the door, hoping a sentry might hear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Identify yourself,” requested a voice, the Orcish marked by a Sin’dorei
accent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron Allicant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
apologize for the late hour—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The door immediately opened, a red-jacketed blood elf ushering me inside
with surprising haste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Green eyes
narrowed as he looked out onto the street before shutting it behind me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Scions of House Windrunner are always welcome as guests of Great House
Spellstar and the Reliquary,” he said, etiquette not quite hiding the worry in
his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m honored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is something
the matter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My orders are to bring you to Lord Spellstar upon the moment of your
arrival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are not in any kind
of danger as far as I can tell, but he stressed that this is a matter of some
urgency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you will come with me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Certainly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is Daj’yah all
right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The troll?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is
fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lord Spellstar seems pleased
with her work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Nodding, I followed the guard through the halls, shadows flowing down
from the ceilings and coursing around lit sconces to drown the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I caught a glimpse of Daj’yah’s tent as
we walked past the garden, and strained to see or hear anything inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We reached Avaeron’s office to find the door already open, its occupant
trying to smooth his sleep-ruffled hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wrinkled nightclothes peeked through the gaps in his work robe, and he
motioned for me to sit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A single
candle burned on the desk with its neat stacks of paper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Would you care for some wine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is the
matter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron rubbed his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m not sure how best to describe this… we recently heard about your
freelance diplomacy for the Ptath Orsisi and the Explorer’s League.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Specifically, we heard about it from
Uzmal, the warchief’s envoy to the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He seemed upset.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Now, let me preface this by saying that I wholeheartedly approve of
your actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You prevented
needless bloodshed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Horde can
ill-afford another front.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I take it that Uzmal disagrees?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am not quite sure what Uzmal thinks, because I do not know what
Warchief Hellscream wants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had the
Ptath defeated the Explorer’s League, it could have had a galvanizing effect on
the other Orsisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am not sure if the Ptath would have won.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Uzmal agrees that the outcome was in doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows that a defeat would have hurt the Horde; to see the
Ptath lose when armed with orcish weapons is hardly good propaganda.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So what’s the problem?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Having you intervene suggests that the Horde lacks confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uzmal fears that your actions
emboldened the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he is
blamed for this, he will lose more than his career.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Blamed for what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Horde looking cowardly to the tol’vir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of this depends on how the Alliance tells the story, if
indeed they tell it at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
expedition in question was a tiny one, barely worth noting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, great tales start small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is also the matter of you
encouraging the Explorer’s League to meet with the Orsisi; the Horde wants the
nomads to see the Alliance as the enemy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I doubt they’ll even listen to my advice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That remains to be seen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Am I in trouble or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron, I have no idea!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe Garrosh will be glad to avoid trouble in Uldum because he’s
already losing ground on every front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then again, perhaps he thinks the Horde needs to be more
aggressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever he thinks
now, he might change his mind tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How much of this is known outside of Uldum?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s hard to say; so far the Alliance has been quiet, though I’m sure
the authorities are well aware.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
do not know how far the story has traveled throughout Uldum; if enough people know,
it will eventually reach Gadgetzan, and they’ll make a radio story of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Does the warchief know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uzmal’s not saying
anything because he doesn’t want to risk undue attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right now he’s out in the desert,
trying to rally the Orsisi so that they can go on the warpath; that might sate
the warchief if he’s unhappy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Warpath against whom?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Either the Explorer’s League or Ramkahen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who knows?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
expect that it will eventually reach the warchief’s ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not wish to be rude, but your
presence may put us in danger.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You think you will be blamed for this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s within the realm of possibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing is certain with the players involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My kingdom does not always agree with
Great House Windrunner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nonetheless, Lady Windrunner is still linked to Quel’thalas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As your host, I will do everything
possible to ensure your safety from these barbarians, though my own people must
be my first concern.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Of course, of course,” I mumbled, suddenly exhausted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Kalimdor is probably no longer safe for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’d like, I can arrange passage to Gadgetzan, and from
there to Booty Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warchief
Hellscream takes relatively little interest in that region.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can’t believe this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
being exiled.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not exactly, not quite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You may not be in any trouble at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s impossible to say at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, leaving Kalimdor would be
prudent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m afraid I must insist
that you leave Brightblade Hall; I cannot afford to endanger the Reliquary or
the people under my command.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very
grateful for how tolerant you’ve been of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s more than a Forsaken deserves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does Daj’yah know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Might she be in any trouble?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ve explained the situation to her; she’s not happy about it
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She told me of what
happened to her in Orgrimmar; in light of that, it is best that she also leave
this place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“She must hate me for this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As I said, she is upset, but I do not think she hates you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trolls possess a savage temperament,
but they do not easily abandon their friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“She won’t hate you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s not—never mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
you can also provide passage for her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As long as she goes with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Neither of you are in immediate danger, but it would be wise to leave as
soon as possible.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Very well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll ask her
where she wants to go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Booty Bay is your best option, but if you have other ideas I will do my
best to oblige.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not wanting to wake Daj’yah, I retired to the hall’s darkened
cantina.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had overstepped my
bounds, though I am not sure if I would have done differently if given a second
chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I doubt that the Orsisi
will soon fall into the Alliance camp, even on the off-chance that the
Explorer’s League does successfully parley with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Ashenvale front appears to be in retreat, while Feralas and the
Southern Barrens stagnate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If war
spreads to Uldum, the Horde will find it almost impossible to field an army
there, while the Alliance’s control of the southern ocean will make it easier
for them to do the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Orsisi are too few and undisciplined to tip the balance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Horde cannot afford a fourth front in Kalimdor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah drifted to the cantina shortly after dawn, her tall form awkward
among the delicate Sin’dorei furniture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She gasped when she saw me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When did you get
back?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Last night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want
to wake you—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You talked to Avaeron, yeah?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He told me about the problems I caused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah, I’m sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t mean to bring all these troubles upon you—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She raised her hand and sat down in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You did the best you could; it was a bad situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Destron, sometimes I don’t think
you know how lucky you are in some ways.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I beg your pardon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I know you went through hell and saw awful things, worse than I’ll ever
see,” she said, her voice softening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“And I’m not saying you should be happy about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just that you can go wherever you
want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day you’re undead, the
next you make folks think you’re human.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s not like that for us, for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am part of the Horde, no matter what I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think you forget that sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wherever you go, the Horde’s there too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you do something like this, the
Horde reacts, and it’s your friends who’ll feel it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t pretend that you’re jaunting about anymore,
without a care in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People like me, like Uthel’nay… we’re stuck with the consequences.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose I didn’t
really learn from my time in Orgrimmar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’re completely right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not easy for me to stay put.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t know why; maybe I’ve been doing this for too long.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You didn’t do anything bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You were right to keep those fools from killing each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now you and me are both running
from the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You were happy here, weren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Happy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah, Destron, I’ll
never be happy anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spirits
cursed me from birth, I’m thinking, but at least this means I’m free to go
wherever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ends up the same way
each time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brightblade Hall’s not
a bad place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like seeing the
look on the elves’ faces when I outsmart them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s lonesome though.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Avaeron said he could get us to Booty Bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the idea is to leave Kalimdor, at the very least.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He told me the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Booty
Bay sounded good from what you told me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lots of different people there, yeah?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There were when I visited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That probably hasn’t changed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That way, when I get one group to hate me, I can find another without
trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Daj’yah, nobody in the Darkbriar Lodge hated you, and you know it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were practically a celebrity in
Bilgewater Harbor!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yeah, I’m just joking,” she laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe I’m easier to be with than I feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Booty Bay sounds all right to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just remember to be careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unless the Horde sends you somewhere,
you’d best be staying safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t travel as easy as you, and I need to stay in one place for a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You deserve someplace to your liking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I wish that hadn’t happened.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I didn’t want to stay here forever anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just have to be more careful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We began the preparations for the journey later that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Avaeron did much to expedite the
process, waxing effusive about how helpful Daj’yah had been to the
Reliquary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think Avaeron
legitimately appreciated and respected her, despite his somewhat questionable
attitudes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah remembers him
with relative fondness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">As we worked, my mind kept drifting to this new face of the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warrior societies often place great
emphasis on personal honor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
no coincidence that such societies also tend to be largely pre-literate,
lacking contracts or rule of law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>These cultures often arise from dangerous or uncertain
environments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, the
most reliable indicator of reputation is one’s deeds in battle; whatever else,
a good warrior can be depended on to protect the community.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Certainly, none can doubt that Azeroth is a deadly place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other respects, however, the orcs
have moved beyond this stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thanks to Thrall, most orcs know how to read, and many live in teeming
cities where their safety is almost assured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peons learn self-respect and independence in the hard soil
of the Barrens, and shamans protect their reputations through wisdom and
debate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Is the current ethos of unending violence a reaction to these
changes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warrior societies tend to
be practical; a tenuous pastoral or agricultural community cannot afford losing
warriors on frivolous pursuits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The romantic memory of honor is a far cry from the pragmatic reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Death in battle is honorable, but a
warrior still prefers to live if at all possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I fear that it is the memory of honor that now guides the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Garrosh is a product of a genuine
warrior society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thrust into the
comparative plenty and comfort of Azeroth, he no longer sees the limits that
kept the Mag’har’s behavior (however retrograde) within acceptable limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Entrusted to him are the multitudes of the Horde, themselves with a
rather ad hoc understanding of the warrior mentality, shaped by fears (mixed
with longing) of demonic power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thrall (and perhaps just as significantly, the humans) left the orcs as
a people in transition from the brutality of the past towards a more peaceful
future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The spirit of Hellscream’s Horde is a mutation, a crippled and monstrous
beast combining the basest elements of orcish tradition with modern
weaponry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It remains to be seen
how much damage it will inflict on the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-42676220642699305042013-04-30T17:10:00.000-07:002013-05-04T16:46:25.505-07:00The Skywall<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">To go into to the Cradle of the Ancients is to plunge into a sea of
green. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One swims more than walks
through damp air laden with the buzz of countless insects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A thousand tiny channels run through
the mud and the reeds, the earth soft and warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here and there, the stone foundations of Neferseti forts
sink into the mire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I soon reached the coastal Steamwheedle encampment known as the
Elemental Exchange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set up several
months after the Neferset War, the enterprising Steamwheedle goblins use it as
a base camp for their exploration of the Skywall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though not yet common knowledge outside of Uldum, the air
elementals are more open to interaction than are their fiery cousins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Perched on gossamer clouds over the sea, the gate to the Skywall seems
more the stuff of fairy tales than of reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bejeweled alabaster spires soar over bronze cupolas engraved
with swirling geometric patterns, the whole sight a fever dream of exotic
riches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Al’akir, lord of the Skywall, had sent only a token force into
Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His greatest agent, Siamat,
returned the Neferseti to stone while a multitude of lesser elementals sowed
the storm that buried Orsis City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was never any equivalent to the armies the nearly burned Hyjal to
ash; Al’akir allowed the Neferseti and the mercenaries to do most of the work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Perhaps this became Al’akir’s undoing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Horde partisans (Belskur among them) quickly cut
through the paltry garrison guarding the Throne of the Four Winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A formidable combatant, Al’akir still
succumbed to their combined skill, though a full half of Belskur’s party
perished in the attempt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s a beautiful sight, to be sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Considering it’s mostly air, there’s a lot of wealth in the
Skywall,” said Spirra.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was pleased to again meet Spirra Sprangelfrazz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first encounter had been in the
Blasted Lands, where we helped each other escape from the Shadowsworn
cultists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She then took me to
Stranglethorn Vale, where her zeppelin was shot down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spirra considered herself indebted to me for saving her life
in the Blasted Land, and by her reckoning, still owed me some measure of
recompense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like many others in
Steamwheedle, Spirra holds very strongly to the old goblin ethics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She’d done quite well for herself in the past few years, having earned a
great deal of credit flying supplies to the Argent Crusade in Zul’drak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not an easy job, to be sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Damn near froze my fingers off each morning and I don’t think I’ll ever
get the smoke out of my nostrils.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes, I wish I could just wipe out all my memories of Northrend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I know the feeling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s why I’m here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
an easy job, but pays good money since it’s so far out in the middle of
nowhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How long were you in Northrend?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Argents then
paid me to help out with relief efforts after the Cataclysm, mostly around
southern Lordaeron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I came
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d almost say the sunshine
is payment enough, but then I remember how much I like gold,” she laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Would it be possible for me to visit the Skywall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m taking some
people up tomorrow, and I think I still owe you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We left for the Skywall just after sunrise, the fantastical palace
ablaze in the morning light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Crystalline spheres set into the towers twinkled like stars in the
sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Besides Spirra and myself, the only other person on the zeppelin (a
sturdy two-engine Albatross model, favored by Alliance scouts) was Reeg
Klagdox, a one-eyed goblin with a strip of black hair meandering across his
scalp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reeg studied the Skywall
and reported his findings to the Steamwheedle bosses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Throne of the Four Winds—where we’re going—is a bit gaudy for my
taste,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The only other elemental plane I’ve seen is the Firelands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You’ve been there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I
think you’ll find the Skywall a welcome change of pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air elementals really aren’t bad
folks once you get to know them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns
out, the reason that so few elementals invaded Uldum was because Al’akir couldn’t
get enough of them to follow him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So what exactly was the political situation in the Skywall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Tough question to answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You have to keep in mind that the Skywall is a world unto itself—a
universe, even.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s much too big
for any one person to rule, even Al’akir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What Al’akir did have was the Throne of the Four Winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s both a palace and a machine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With it—how, I don’t know—the
controller can send things hurtling through the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have it helping you, a ten year journey drops down to
ten hours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is the Skywall densely populated?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You fly for a
human lifetime without seeing a single other soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are cities though, made of clouds, dense gases, stolen
elements from other planes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
of them have big populations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So like I was saying, it’s hard to get places in the Skywall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the air elementals first ended up
there, they squabbled a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kingdoms rose and fell, all that stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir had power, but no way to wield it, until he either
made or found the Throne of the Four Winds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And that gave him control over transportation?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He called all the big
air bosses over to the throne, and said they could serve him or try to go on
their own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most agreed to let him
call the shots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ones who
didn’t were pushed out by the wind to the very edges of the Skywall, where it
starts to bleed into the other elemental planes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And the loyalists?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They got to stay in the safer part of the Skywall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir demanded taxes in the form of
art; each community had to give him something nice, like statues made of
trapped lightning or wind in the form of a song.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were big projects, by the way; the entire city usually
had to pitch in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A lot of these cities didn’t like having to depend on Al’akir for
transport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any move they wanted to
make, they had to ask his permission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Al’akir deputized some responsibility by getting four powerful
elementals to watch his realm—he called them the Conclave of the Winds—but that
still didn’t satisfy anyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You could bribe him, sure, but there was no guarantee he’d
reciprocate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From what I hear, it
sounds like Al’akir started to lose his mind towards the end.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Who controls the Throne of the Four Winds now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s an interesting subject.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s a kind of provisional government at the moment, but there’s
still a lot of debate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll see
when we arrive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Which we’re about to,” added Spirra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Misty filaments broke on the zeppelin’s prow as Spirra took us up,
nimbly circling the central spire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many of the buildings on the Firelands are made of an improbable solid
flame, but the materials for the Skywall are clearly stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This suggested a less monomaniacal
focus on a single element; not only is there room for earth, but it can also be
made lovely.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Spirra stopped her ascent at a circular balcony of white stone some ways
beneath the tip of the spire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Engines sputtered to low ebb as she pulled a cable out from the cockpit,
tying it to a support capped by a glowing glass orb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reeg pulled on a fur coat before sliding open the metal
door, the hot lowland air gushing out and replaced by high altitude
frigidity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Exquisite designs cover every exposed surface of the portal, abstract to
my eye though they perhaps carry great meaning for the natives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The edifice on which I embarked is
really no more than a jumping off point for invasion, yet its makers had spared
no effort in beautifying it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Skywall’s the friendliest of the elemental planes, so long as
you’re walking on something solid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, and it’s quite cold, but I suppose you wouldn’t be bothered by that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you ready?” asked Reeg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind us, Spirra had opened up a
coffee thermos and began thumbing through a battered paperback novel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Quite.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Then follow me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just so
you know, it helps if you look at the buildings before you look at the sky,” he
said, heading towards the portal of cloudy blue light beckoning where the
balcony met the tower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Spade-shaped petals of stone spread beneath my feet, the image of a
dahlia chiseled onto the floor by exacting hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pillars, bulbous at the bottom and tapering to narrow stems,
lift an airy dome, its azure surface interrupted by an oculus that opens up to
a smaller, second dome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The citadel’s towering height, unhindered by gravity, conjures memories
of Wyrmrest Temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps
Al’akir had taken some inspiration from his wardens, though the style
incorporates elaborate arabesques uniquely his own.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It is in the surrounding vastness that the true architecture of the
Skywall is to be found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Palaces
and ziggurats of clouds roil through the endless skies, their amorphous
parapets shuddering with lightning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The air itself is alive, suffused in ozone’s energetic swell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My time in the Netherstorm reduced the shock of seeing the Skywall, but
did not reduce its beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew
that the storms and open spaces rolled on without any discernable end, like the
dust clouds spotted by astronomers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is no barrier except distance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Throne of the Four Winds proper is actually rather small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four cupola-topped citadels (one of
which contains the portal) surround a circular platform of gleaming
marble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The space on the platform
flickered, and I could just see a three-dimensional outline of a towering
figure, one of the native elementals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Where we are now used to be the personal office of Siamat, the South
Wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, south wind isn’t
quite the right term; cardinal directions don’t really exist here, but that’s
how he ended up being known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
any rate, he controlled the wind paths for everything in the Skywall going away
from the center in this direction.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Siamat also changed the Neferseti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest of
the conclave managed their realms in each of these towers, while Al’akir ruled
the whole thing from the center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Al’akir made the ultimate decisions; where resources should go, and all
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m happy to answer your
questions, but you really ought to ask Rezehar over there,” he said, pointing
to the distortion on the central platform.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Bridges of moving air connect the different segments of the Throne of
the Four Winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw Reeg step
off the platform and be instantly blasted forward and upward in a dramatic arc,
his dense body a twig in a storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For a heart-stopping moment he floated in mid-air, arms and legs
outstretched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He descended rather
than fell, completing the arc on the other end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He motioned for me to do the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not giving myself time to second-guess the action, I jumped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A wall of solid air slammed into my
back and lifted me to the tower’s upper levels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a vertiginous moment I hung suspended over the gap, an
infinity of storm clouds beneath me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All at once invisible hands seemed to grip my shoulders, gently pushing
me down until I landed next to a laughing Reeg.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hell of a ride, wouldn’t you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But why is it
here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can’t the air elementals
fly?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure, but Al’akir wanted to demonstrate his power to any
petitioners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To get to the Throne
of the Four Winds, you had to ask a Conclave member to give you a good wind
current; then, you had to use Al’akir’s enchantments to see him directly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He used to rule from this very spot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Couldn’t someone ignore it and fly over?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A few tried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He always
blasted them out of the sky.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Wavering like the horizon on a hot summer day, the air elemental known as
Rezehar floated towards us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
closer look revealed the details in his figure, a mist within the wind taking
the faintest outline of an aquiline face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bands of some slick gray metal encircled the tempestuous columns of his
arms, and beneath that spun the whirlwind of his body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Reeg introduced Rezehar as a representative from the Thousand Drenching
Gales, an air elemental nation close to the border of the Abyssal Maw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His voice came as a sort of whispering
howl, a hurricane’s power trapped in words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My master, the Duke of Driven Rain, served Al’akir for many faithful
years, but with little recompense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are glad that the Wind Lord is fallen, and are grateful—though not
subservient—to the Horde,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are glad to have helped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Is the Thousand Drenching Gales its own sovereignty?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My master is powerful, and there are none in our realm who would
question his greatness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet he
does not control the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
Al’akir still ruled, we reported to the satrap Nezir, whom you call the Lord of
the East Wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those of us who
wished to visit our neighbors—whether for trade or for war—had no choice but to
petition Nezir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is war frequent in the Skywall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are not the barbarians of the Firelands,” he said, a whistling note
spiking his voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Nor are we
cowards.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“For what do you fight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This will not be easy for you to understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We do not require food or water as does your kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have all that we need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, look around yourself!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The storm you see did not always rage
around this palace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the
Titans ensorcelled us here, there was nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He let the last word stand out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Only darkness and inertia in all directions, a paltry world to those
who once thrilled in the maelstrom of creation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir saw that this could not be, and bade us enrich
ourselves to make the Skywall a place fit for the Race of Kings.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You made war for the sake of beauty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“War for the sake of sanity, Azerothian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were emptiness in a plane of nothingness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir called out to us in the
darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Conclave of Wind
manipulated the currents so that we might go to where the boundaries thin
between planes.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EDAl0lgiu0k/UYWdiqNnnaI/AAAAAAAACbc/bzwIXy3pwWU/s1600/Stormclouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EDAl0lgiu0k/UYWdiqNnnaI/AAAAAAAACbc/bzwIXy3pwWU/s400/Stormclouds.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I think I understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Certainly I would not want to be locked into nothingness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does the light in this plane come from
the Firelands?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The moisture from
the Abyssal Maw?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kingdoms of the
Skywall battled for Al’akir’s favor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Those who delivered unto him the greatest gifts could be assured of
support from the Conclave of Winds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Allowing the favored nation to gather more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sometimes they sought his help in escaping the elemental borderlands,
for our enemies on the other planes do not avoid conflict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many kingdoms fell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some nations waged war to beat their
rivals into submission, and in so doing be assigned to attacking our enemies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Was there ever any trade?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“At times with the Abyssal Maw or Deepholme; never the Firelands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir disliked trade, for it is not
the way of our kind to make exchange; as masters of air and wind, it is our
place to take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times, however,
trade proved necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
merchant nations were sure to give Al’akir the finest gifts in return for his
tolerance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I was once told that elementals are defined by a single focus on their
native element.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That when a fire
elemental is unleashed in Azeroth, it wishes to burn everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This does not appear to be the case
with your kind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Air is supreme, but it cannot exist alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were that the case, we would have been content in our prison
as the Titans designed it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Other elements are acceptable if they are subordinate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Speaking of subordination, who now controls the Throne of the Four
Winds?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Drops spun faster in Rezehar’s neck, his body seeming to darken and
contort.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not know how the Steamwheedle Cartel came to this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warriors of the Horde slew Al’akir in
honorable battle, yet it is these inert beings who claim the spoils.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Horde is facing many obligations, and cannot afford to maintain
much of a presence in the Skywall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think that to too many, your world began and ended with Al’akir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As for the Steamwheedle, they used to
be friends with the Horde, many years ago, and there is still some
communication between them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
saw opportunity where the Horde did not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Opportunity to make their own kingdoms lovely with the spoils of our
realm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They demand to trade our
treasures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblins confer the
winds to those of us who debase themselves to the foreigners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what do we owe them?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Al’akir, for all his wickedness, made the Skywall a place worthy of our
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We served him for this,
though his lightning dimmed as his greed grew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now the goblins expect the same service, but what do we owe
them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not think the goblins see it as a case of obligation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather, they seek an exchange between
equals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yet they control the Throne of the Four Winds!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now we are weak, but the Race of
Kings will not suffer their presence for long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is we who rule this place!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Steamwheedle Cartel claims that they have no desire to occupy the
Throne of the Four Winds for very long, and I believe them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These goblins are traders, not
empire-builders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most are fully
aware that the air elementals detest their presence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">However, the Skywall is potentially very profitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only a small portion consists of
breathable air; deeper in the plane are gaseous oceans of strange chemicals
that can be used for manufacturing, for fuel, and myriad other purposes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Steamwheedle Cartel seeks to open
that up for trade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">For this to happen, the Skywall must be stable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblins are attempting to support
sovereignties that they see as reliable; the Throne of the Four Winds will
likely be handed over to a group of such states.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet even this is problematic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The air elementals hate us,” said Reeg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And as we’re learning, they’ll especially hate the
countries that we decide should be in charge of the Throne of the Four Winds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think they’ll attack the inheritors?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Almost certainly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We kind
of jumped into this without really thinking, and I’m a little worried about how
much money is being raised by Skywall speculators; it could crash in a really
bad way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">No one knows exactly how Al’akir imbued the Throne of the Four Winds
with his power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such a phenomenon
is the manifestation of godlike entity’s will, not a matter of mechanics arcane
or technological.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is peculiar
that Al’akir would make it possible for others to access the throne’s
capabilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The explanation may lie in Al’akir’s own love of the Skywall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a tyrant who saw himself as a
protector.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knowing that his
civilization depended on the Throne of the Four Winds perhaps motivated him to ensure
that it could survive him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Today, the Throne of the Four Winds operates at about half its original
capacity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Steamwheedle shamans
convinced Tanaris air spirits to aid them in managing the artifact (in return, the
shamans cut down on the smog produced in Gadgetzan; affected factory owners
received shares in the newly minted Skywall Company).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Native air elementals are not seen as reliable, though the
use of foreign spirits is a sore subject for Skywall’s natives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The sheer speed involved in long-distance transport is actually quite
dangerous to beings of flesh and blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For this reason, the goblins strap themselves into bullet-shaped metal canisters
equipped with cushioned interiors when undertaking a journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are exclusive to key employees,
so I was not permitted to use them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Fortunately, I met another aerial emissary in the form of Shuresteh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike Rezehar, Shuresteh had abandoned
all pretense of taking an anthropoid form and resembled a striated column of
air rotating in place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Roughly ten
feet in height, flashes of light sparked within Shuresteh’s core, and frozen
lightning arched out from its sides like the bones of wings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Shuresteh hailed from a splendid realm called the Radiant Courts, a
chaotic metropolis of lightning whose jagged towers and crooked streets spread
out for hundreds of miles in all directions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pahashta, the Esteemed Master of Light, had forged the
Radiant Courts from the heart of a vast storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pahashta’s power bound the lightning, slowing though not
stopping it so that the city’s three-dimensional sprawl became an ever-shifting
array.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Pahashta had served Al’akir reluctantly at best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much of the Radiant Court’s power came
from raiding the Firelands, though they also traded rare gases in return for
Deepholme gems the size of castles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The gems, said Shuresteh, are polished and cut to perfection, their
facets reflecting and multiplying the glory of the Radiant Courts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I met Shuresteh in the eastern tower, formerly occupied by Nezir, Lord
of the East Wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and several
other Skywall ambassadors waited there to speak with the Steamwheedle
representatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were not
idle, the emissaries plotting with and against each other for a future free of
Al’akir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Our discussion first went to a subject that had been puzzling me for
some time: namely, why so many elementals are gendered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir is referred to with the male
pronoun, despite being asexual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Shuresteh’s lack of anthropomorphic traits highlighted this curious
tendency among some of its peers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My liege is ancient, and it remembers a time when Al’akir took no form
beyond a wind of infinite force.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet it changed, imitating what you Azerothians would call a man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is because of the Titans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I thought the elementals detested the Titans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Detest, envy, gratitude… many other emotions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why gratitude?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Because the prison they made for us is the perfect canvas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would never have been able to create
such beauty on Azeroth without our rivals destroying it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ultimately, there is nothing an
elemental respects as much as power, and the Titans were clearly our betters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their race was split into men and
women, so some elementals sought to do the same; others, like my master, see
this as misguided.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that the fire
elementals are able to produce more of their own kind after consuming enough
fuel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How are air elementals
created?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The method is not dissimilar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As an air elemental ages, it expands, for air is forever mobile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it grows, it can gather more force
with its body; winds are imbued with consciousness, and become separate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Older elementals can do this indefinitely?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, for some part of itself is always sacrificed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet the great ones, like Al’akir or my
own liege, Pahashta, have more energy to spare, and are able to create
elementals of exceptional quality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Skill and power together give an elemental leader the right to create.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not Pahashta’s son or daughter,
but I am its child.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">With that question answered, the conversation moved on to politics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You have come to visit the Skywall at a most interesting time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not sure if the Race of Kings
knows what to do now that the greatest among us—however despicable—is no more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What is your opinion?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am a skilled diplomat, good Destron: I have no opinion.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Well said,” I chuckled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Radiant Courts is enthusiastic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We support the Steamwheedle Cartel—and expect them to
support us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My master has long
attempted to forge its own path, so we are no strangers to enmity.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is Pahashta an absolute ruler?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pahashta wields power
greater than any of us within the Radiant Courts, so we follow as best we
can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beauty of our nation is
an emanation of Pahashta’s magnificence, just as Pahashta once did the same for
Al’akir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is true for all
elementals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So there is some commonality between the planes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should say so!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My home
owes its beauty to the gifts of Deepholme after all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think the different groups of elementals can cooperate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The idea of different groups of elementals is fundamentally
absurd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your kind uses the term
‘air elemental’, which is already inaccurate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many natives of Skywall do not possess a trace of what you
call air in their bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
of nitrogen, piquant mixes of helium and ammonia, and so forth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Instead of air, earth, water, and fire, it should be gas, solid,
liquid, and heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even then, there
is hybridism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My form contains
emerald dust purchased from Deepholme.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am mostly gaseous, yet am also solid in parts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is this opinion common in the Skywall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Who can say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are too
numerous and too far apart to be sure, but these are the words of Pahashta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our realm would be less were it not for
Deepholme’s jewels, just as others benefit from the Firelands’ heat and the
Abyssal Maw’s moisture.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is this why the Steamwheedle Cartel appeals to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Appeal is perhaps too strong a word, but I see them as necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If my liege is able to secure a place
controlling the Throne of the Four Winds, we may bring our message of hybridism
to others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there, we can
spread and make the elemental planes a place of peace.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I applaud your goal, but from what I’ve seen of the Firelands this will
not be easy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Too true, but my master appreciates a challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is still a place for the elementals,
not for Azerothians, but the goblins may help us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let all salute the Skywall for the universal grandeur it
shall possess under Pahashta.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I could not help noting that Shuresteh still saw it as a matter of its
nation achieving dominance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Realpolitik never really goes away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, the idea of a more inclusive order suggests a
transformative possibility within the elemental planes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The war between the elemental planes is a fruitless one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each plane is simply too large and
hostile to be conquered by another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thus victory must come about through ideas, rather than military force.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It is this dream of power that made it so easy for Deathwing to win
Al’akir’s loyalty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deathwing
promised the elemental mastery that Al’akir so desired, never mind that
Ragnaros had been assured of similar power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That both Ragnaros and Al’akir are dead reinforces the
futility of their goals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Conceivably, there is reason for hope.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-52874422964809572832013-04-15T19:34:00.003-07:002013-04-15T19:34:53.056-07:00Uldum: Part 3
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Looking back on these episodes, I fear that I am being unfair to the
Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their once-fearsome
warrior culture is only now emerging from the lean centuries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kings of Orsis City had never
managed to completely consolidate their rule over the nomadic bands, and
marginalized or persecuted those they could not control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni encouraged the urban
Orsisi in this persecution, though it must be remembered that the nomadic
Orsisi had once terrorized Ramkahen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I could not listen Somhet’s gloating satisfaction without also hearing
the self-righteous resentment voiced by Garrosh and his followers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are numerous parallels between
the Orsisi and the orcs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That may
be why it was so easy for the elusive Uzmal to win the Ptath Band’s loyalty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I traveled with the Ptath for a while longer, observing their daily
lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will admit that I began
to try and avoid Somhet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
poor behavior on my part; whatever his opinions, he had been very tolerant and
welcoming towards me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Like other bands, the Ptath are too few in number to have much
individual specialization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each
Ptath must be a herder, a hunter, a parent, and innumerable other roles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As such, there is more gender equity than
is found in Ramkahen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only
exception is in battle against other tol’vir; women are seen as too vital to
risk in conflict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless,
women are still trained in combat, and are ready to participate should the
situation turn grim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The chieftain of a band is usually an experienced warrior or hunter who
has reached at least 40 years of age (due to the high status of warriors,
chieftains are usually men, though female chieftains are not rare).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi believe that long-lasting
power tends to stagnate, and for this reason choose leaders from among the
older of their number.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
strikes me as a wise decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The chieftain acts as a first among equals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While their word carries influence, it is not final.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Decisions are made in meetings that
include all adult members of a band.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The chieftain attempts to lead the band from disagreement into a broad
consensus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Minority opinions are
allowed to speak during debates, but must stay silent once the issue has been
decided. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Interestingly, no unified consensus had been achieved regarding the
creation of Orsis City; Simatep had simply taken those loyal to him and
accepted Ramkahen’s offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This,
claimed Somhet, had doomed the city to failure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The entire community works together to raise children, though a child’s
father enjoys particular authority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The consensus-based politics of a band mean that it is rare for the
father and community to be at odds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Marriage is exclusively exogamous, a fact that actually ties into the
resentment many Orsisi feel for the old city.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somhet told me that in ancient times, the different bands would
periodically meet at the Cradle of the Ancients or the Vir’sar Oasis in order
to trade, exchange news, and marry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Orsis City eventually replaced these locales as the preferred
trademeet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not long after, the Neferseti seized the Cradle of the Ancients in the
hope that its water supply would make up for the loss created by the Vir’naal
Dam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In so doing, the Orsisi were
prohibited from entering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead
of sending a force to reclaim the Cradle of the Ancients, the Orsisi king (who
likely desired to strengthen his grip over the nomads) decreed that his people
no longer needed the southern oases.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">While this may have been true in a technical sense, it exposed the rift
between the urban and nomadic Orsisi, the latter of which regarded the Cradle
of the Ancients as sacred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several
bands tried to retake the land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fewer in number than in the Orsis Host’s glory days, the Neferseti repelled
them after several bloody battles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The handful of surviving bands had to make do with less formal gatherings
along the Vir’naal River Valley, where they were made to pay taxes (in the form
of animals) to Ramkahen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
during such times that the Orsisi bands truly learned to hate the concept of
the city.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The northern Orsisi around the Vir’sar Oasis fared somewhat better,
though their isolation proved to be their undoing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mercenaries who so recently tried to plunder Uldum
killed many of them, and their future is in doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It is not entirely clear whether or not Orsis will pose a real threat to
Ramkahen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hatred cannot make up
for a lack of numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks to
Uzmal and others, the Orsisi possess a variety of modern weapons, and are
proficient in their usage (though obviously not their manufacture).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I suspect that the Orsisi (in their current state) are quite capable of
raiding and inflicting serious damage on Ramkahen, whose army is still
archaic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, the Orsisi will
not be able to win a sustained campaign against their neighbors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They may be used as a bargaining chip
by the Horde, though the Horde’s control over them might not be as complete as
they imagine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I encountered firsthand Uldum’s political volatility towards the end of
my second (and last) week among the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The journey had been interesting; with Somhet’s help, I had
been able to talk with some of the other tol’vir, and even speak a little bit
of Virtic (though my accent renders me nearly incomprehensible).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Ptath Band had made camp one night on the rocky bluffs overlooking
the border between Ramkahen and Neferset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The spot is in sight of the southern Vir’naal winding thin and sluggish
through the green plains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Terraced
Mount Orum, crowned by the Titan edifice known as the Obelisk of the Sun,
sprawls across the dusty southern horizon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Titan vaults riddle the interior of Mount Orum, and the place had been
the site of pitched battles between the Explorer’s League and mercenary
looters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mountain is sacred to
all tol’vir, and especially to the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To them, it is a reminder of that which only the Titans may
build.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I listened to the groaning chants of the elders as the Ptath settled
down for the night, their voices quieting as light faded from the sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fell asleep on a weathered camel-hide
blanket, my dead skin suffused with the musty smell of smoke and tired herds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I awoke to the sharp growling of angry Virtic, the tones quickly taking
on the qualities of outrage and disbelief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shadows stirred at the other side of the tent, Somhet’s wife
Bastei rising from her bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Venturing to step outside, I found the campsite in an uproar, families
roused to action in the dead of night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only when I ran into Somhet, standing next to a pair of tol’vir nomads not
of the Ptath, did I learn what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Alliance is
stealing from the Obelisk of the Sun!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>These two are from the Japh Band, who are traveling east below the
slopes of Mount Orum, and they saw the ones you call dwarves preparing to
invade the holy places.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Explorer’s League?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somhet repeated my question to the Japh warrior, who made a noncommittal
gesture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They are Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
cannot allow them to steal from the homes of the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alone, the Japh Band is too few, but with
our help they may kill the interlopers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Wait, attacking the Alliance will be no easy task,” I stalled, my mind
racing for a solution.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Uzmal said that the Horde will stand by us in a war.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And we will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you must
remember that the Horde has few warriors in Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be some time before they can send any real force to
fight alongside the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is not the right time to fight the Alliance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There is no right time when it comes to sins like these!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gods made this place, Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We cannot let outsiders taint it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Alliance has been in the Obelisk of the Sun before, in order to
repel the bandits during the Neferset War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely that was not a problem?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How can you say that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
which the Titans built is holy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
fought the bandits, but they pushed us away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gods did not see us as worthy of defending their gifts
because the sins of our leaders had not yet been expunged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Now, the gods favor us, as can be seen in the Horde weapons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just because foreigners drove out the
bandits does not give them the right to take our holy lands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the fallen Ramkaheni and Neferseti
cities are for you to do with as you please, but that made by the Titans is
sacred.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have
every right to be outraged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet if
you start this battle and lose, it will encourage the Alliance to plunder even
more holy sites!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you fight, it
must be from a position of strength.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The gods will favor us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
they do not, than nothing we do matters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It has been decided.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The faith of the Orsisi is strong indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish my own people believed with such fervor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if I could convince the Alliance
to leave?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can speak their
language.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think you can do this?” he asked, after a pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I understand the Alliance as well as anyone in the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least let me try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no doubt you will beat them in
battle, but it would be better for the Orsisi to grow in strength before committing
their forces.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stay here, I will tell this to the others.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somhet jogged over to a gathering of tol’vir, the moonlight dancing on
their furred bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized
that my presence might well indicate official Horde involvement in the attack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi using Horde weapons was
problematic enough without a Forsaken agent tagging along for the ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Neither the Alliance nor the Horde has a significant presence in
Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, the Explorer’s
League is closely tied with the highest levels of Alliance government, and they
would surely send troops in the event of an attack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Horde could try to deny involvement, but my faction
lacks even a shred of diplomatic credibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dwarves also revere the Titans, and will likely want to
punish the Orsisi who interfered with their excavations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In fact, I could not even be sure that the Horde would attempt to
distance itself from a potential skirmish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It struck me as entirely plausible that Garrosh might
welcome it as an excuse to open up a new front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With him, it is impossible to tell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally resolved to try and stop the
conflict if at all possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
could only work to ensure that my efforts would not worsen the affair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somhet returned, saying that the Ptath would march to the Japh
encampment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chieftain Teldes saw
merit in my words, but needed to discuss it with the warriors of both bands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The camp dispersed with remarkable swiftness, mothers and the aged
staying behind to protect the vulnerable with sturdy bows and sharp eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All fighting adults stormed to the south, the clouds of sand
in their wake making no secret of their coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My camel glided over the soft dunes, cold desert winds
whipping around us, the stars bright.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The desert soon flushed pink with the dawn’s brilliant light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sudden heat seared our sides, the
harbinger of burning noon not yet strong enough to drive out the night’s
chill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking to the east, the
lush river valley sleeping in shadow beneath the blazing disc, I gave a prayer
of thanks that I could see such wonder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Mount Orum drew closer, a burnished fortress in the morning light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ancient turrets line the highest
slopes, seamlessly melded into the living rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ptath and Japh rendezvoused below a dusty ridge embedded in
the foothills, big enough to shield them from attack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because the Explorer’s League controlled the high ground,
the Orsisi would have no chance to repel them in a frontal assault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, they would wait for night and
then split and move to the eastern and western slopes to attack the encampment
from behind, an extremely risky maneuver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I waited as the warriors discussed their options.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At last, Somhet summoned me to their
council, a bristling mass of spears and rifles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron, it is the decision of both our peoples that you be given a
chance to talk to the invaders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
did not come to this easily; it is our way to punish without mercy those who
tread on the work of the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet
we are not yet at full strength, and the gods frown on careless pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If heaven wills it, you will persuade
them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Breath echoed hollow in my dry lungs as I dismounted the camel, my feet
sinking into the sand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put all
thought of consequence out of my mind: I had no choice but to succeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Struggling up the rocky foothills I could see rifle barrels jutting out
from sandbag barricades on the mountain’s upper reaches, fewer than I had
expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dwarves clearly knew
something was the matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I raised
my arms, palms facing back, and hoped they would not shoot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I seek parley!” I shouted in Common, my voice echoing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Long minutes passed under sun, their rifles steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tensed, expecting a bullet to burst
through my skull.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Intermittent
gusts whispered through the sand and loose rocks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I seek parley!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stay where you are!” barked a voice from above.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I finally saw movement along a winding earthen ramp chiseled into the
mountainside, three dwarves and a gnome hurrying down, each carrying a gun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They rapidly closed the distance, their
eyes set in hatred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lead
dwarf, a powerfully built specimen wearing a braided yellow beard, carried a
set of anti-magic bracers with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Lower your hands, keep your palms pointed up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I obeyed without a word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
lead dwarf raised his arm and shouted back to the summit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then backed away, his gun at the
ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A gnome stepped forward,
his green hair incongruous in the desert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bright eyes appraised me, seeing all the sins of my countrymen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All right, who are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron Allicant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I come
here on behalf of the Orsisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m Lindwick Spastodril, and don’t lie; you’re here for the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You are correct, but I also wish to help the Orsisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can’t say we’re happy to see you here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What does the Horde want?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This does not involve the Horde directly; I am here to inform you of an
unfortunate situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi
bands are extremely agitated; they fear that outlanders in this place, however
well-intentioned, will offend their gods.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Titans are the dwarves’ gods too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that,
if anything, the Orsisi and the dwarves have common cause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet the Orsisi see themselves as the
protectors of the Titan constructions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For them to see foreign archaeologists on sacred ground is an insult.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Explorer’s League has permission from Ramkahen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Orsisi do not recognize Ramkahen’s authority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the key here is communication;
the Explorer’s League should let the Orsisi know their intentions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps if the Orsisi are involved,
they will be willing to allow you to investigate.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Except the Orsisi are already with the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Certainly the Orsisi respect the Horde, but they are hardly members of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi demand only that
their faith be respected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given
the chaos that has engulfed Uldum, they can hardly be blamed for fearing that
the Explorer’s League is simply another group of bandits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I will be blunt; the Orsisi will attack your encampment if you do not
leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you are victorious,
your expedition will be crippled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Behind me await the warriors of the Ptath and Japh; even if they fall,
news of the defeat will spread and the entire Orsis Host will surround these
foothills.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“An impressive threat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is a concerned warning, not a threat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also a scholar, and it is my sincere desire for the
knowledge in these ancient places to be spread to the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe this would be possible, but
you must speak with the Orsisi first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Talk to the local bands; inconvenient, to be sure, but far less so than
fighting every single desert warrior.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Explorer’s League is willing to fight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We fought off the mercenary army, saving this land <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for</i> the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they should be more
appreciative.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Orsisi sacrificed many of their best warriors against those
bandits, and the Horde contributed as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all of the glory can go to the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi respect valor, and if you
just meet with them and be honest with them, I imagine you will make
significant headway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely it is
at least worth the attempt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Lindwick stroked his chin, deep in thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ll relay what you said back to the camp commander.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stay here until I return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I watched Lindwick trudge back up the ramp, already beaten down by the
heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My minders stayed silent, grimacing
with the frustration of having a hated enemy in one’s grasp but unable to do
anything about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A low whistle sounded out from the ledges after a long while, the dwarf
nearest me standing up at the sound, the disbelief plain on his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He muttered something in Dwarven before
turning to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s your lucky day, deader bastard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re leaving the mountain, so run back to your overgrown
cats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I ever see you again,
I’ll make sure you go back in the ground.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Neferset City is a place of towering temples and obelisks, the glory of
its kings chiseled in stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Statues of long dead warriors protect the once-bustling streets, now
empty save for soldiers of the Ramkahen Legion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The city is arranged around a processional boulevard running
from the north to the south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Side
streets reach their ends in dusty marketplaces where fleas and beetles hold
court.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beyond that, the rude huts
of the common Neferseti cling to the precipices, a sort of shambling city wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The memory of bloodless slaughter haunts the grand boulevards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dust gathers on heaps of once-living
rubble, the occupying Ramkaheni offering scant mercy to the ultimate
reprobates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The rest of the world sees Uldum as a distant sideshow, almost too
exotic and picturesque to be real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The tol’vir are curiosities, conveniently packaged as either noble
Ramkaheni or depraved Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ramkahen’s victory makes Uldum seem a rare success in this tumultuous
age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">What must be realized is that the warriors were not the only Neferseti
to receive stone bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Al’akir
imparted this gift to every last tol’vir in Neferseti lands, from high priest
to beggar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Ramkaheni eyes, all
tol’vir who bear stone skin are an insult to the gods, and in Uldum such
mockery may only be answered by death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I had reached the Royal Plaza, the pyramidal temples like mountains on
either side, the sun hammering down on the Ramkaheni warriors standing flank to
flank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flagstones shine with a
painful brightness, bleaching the world to a scorched white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Across from me stood the Neferseti,
their splendor marred by defeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Smooth brown stone, inlaid with gold, takes the place of fur and skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They behold their collapsing world
through eyes of polished jade, and streamlined wings sweep out from the
backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Entire families of Neferset had been corralled at the plaza,
hammer-wielding Ramkaheni keeping watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Among the Neferseti I could see stone women and children, a far cry from
the conquering army that once threatened to seize Uldum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Funereal drums resounded as a pair of club-wielding Ramkaheni prodded
and struck a shackled Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
prisoner’s stone paws dragged, scraping against the ground, powder seeping out
from hairline cracks his legs and sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The left wing ended in a jagged stump, and I wondered if the Neferseti
could feel pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Hollow cries rushed out from stone throats, the Neferseti onlookers
stirring, a few raising their arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Ramkaheni silenced them with yowled curses and the threat of raised
hammers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The meaning of the
spectacle became clear to me as the prisoner climbed the first few steps of the
temple’s processional stairway, crippled in sight of Neferset’s holiest place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The drums rattled into silence, the two guards moving aside as another
Ramkaheni, his head encased in a cruelly beaked vulture mask, a sledgehammer in
his hands, marched towards the prisoner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The vulture-headed Ramkaheni took position behind the helpless Neferseti
and spoke, his tone translating Virtic into pure contempt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raising his face to the heaven, the
prisoner’s surviving jade eye looked out from a cobweb of splintered skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">With a single smooth movement the executioner raised the hammer over his
right shoulder and swung forward with all his might.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dust and fragments of stone exploded from the remaining
wing, an ear-splitting crack reverberating through the plaza.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The prisoner began to drop forward,
only for the guards to push him back into place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Taking deliberate steps to the victim’s left, the executioner swung the
hammer a second time, the metal head driving into the front knee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The leg snapped backwards and split,
the Neferseti suddenly brought down by his own weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Arms bound by shackles tried to balance
but the he collapsed to the side, dust spilling from the severed limb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Some part of me urged escape, but I stayed rooted to the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my mind I saw the tortured form of
the necromancer Festul in the Dragonblight’s frigid hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d been able to grant Festul an escape,
but the Neferseti was beyond my ability to help, though he was surely more
deserving of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Still the hammer rose and fell, mighty shoulders splitting asunder,
stone arms rolling down the steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps I only imagined the terror in the single jade eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More legs broke, the executioner’s
chest heaving with exertion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Completely helpless, the prisoner lowered his head as if in
acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking a deep breath,
the Ramkaheni hoisted the weapon as high as he could before slamming it down on
the prisoner’s scalp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Tiny fragments burst in all directions as the sculpted head burst, the neck
splintering under the assault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mindless shudders roiled the corpse before it went suddenly still, death
rendering it inert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ramkaheni voices roared in approval, drowning out any sound made by the
watching Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lifting the
hammer in both hands, the executioner bellowed to the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In a daze, the noon’s white light like fire, I watched as the plaza
emptied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni returned to
their tasks, the soldiers herding away the native-born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On numb legs I walked to the victim’s
remains, a broken statue spilled onto the steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reasoned that he could well have committed some grievous
crime, but the sight of the gleeful mob brought to mind the early days of the
Scarlet Crusade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps the world
might be a better place had those zealots succeeded in wiping out my kind, but a
good result can only make evil means necessary, never moral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It was at the execution site that I became acquainted with Belskur
Redblade, a middle-aged orc with a mop of gray hair reaching to his
shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d also watched the
scene with a heavy heart, and was able to give some context.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“His name was Siruse, a Neferseti warrior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not know him personally, though he was one of the few
officers who survived the war.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why was he executed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sedition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He may well have
been guilty; some Neferseti still hope to drive out the Ramkaheni, but most
know it is hopeless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here, we
should not be in this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Follow me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">As we walked, Belskur told me about himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An independent warrior who came into his own during the
Outland Campaign, he had actually been a part of the band that killed Al’akir,
the lord of the elemental plane of air and a key Neferseti ally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A great battle that was, against a foe who deserved every wound we
inflicted upon it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are few
things better than knowing the rightness of one’s cause.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Since then, he had been living alone at the edge of Neferset City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belskur took me to a cluster of adobe
huts that had once been occupied by poor Neferseti, canvas set up in place of a
broken roof that lay on the floor in pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The darkness offered a bit of relief, a kind of return to
normalcy for my northern self.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Ramkaheni dislike our presence, but no tol’vir forgets a debt, so
here we stay,” said Belskur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
sat on a pile of rubble, passing a prodigious clay bottle of grainy Ramkaheni
beer between us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scarabs crawled
in the dust of the entryway, their shells dull in the dim light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why are you here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I started as a spy!” he laughed, shaking his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m one of the only orcs here who
bothered to learn Virtic, so the Horde deemed it best for me to keep an eye on
the Alliance in case they decided to use the Neferseti as a proxy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you consider that a valid concern?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I don’t, because it’s not, and you can tell that to your masters in
Orgrimmar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Are you not here to check on me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, I’m simply a traveler.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Belskur’s brow furrowed, his gray eyes roving over me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I will assume you speak truly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It would be strange for the warchief to send a Forsaken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, any fool can see that the
Neferseti are nearly ruined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Alliance would use them as proxies if they could, but there are too few
warriors left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stone soldiers are mighty indeed, but they cannot heal from their
wounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stone women do not bear
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti are
doomed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni murdered
them by the hundreds once the city walls fell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I not been in the Skywall at the time, I would have
taken my ax to the Ramkahen Legion.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“But they are still doing it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The execution outside—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Believe me: if the Ramkahen Legion had its way, there would be an
endless stream of executions in that place.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took a deep gulp from the bottle, wiping his mouth as the
brew trickled down his chin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Blood and thunder!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish
they had stronger stuff than this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Are you all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Dammit, I helped kill the Windlord!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you think this is a challenge?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I do is sit and wait, watching the Alliance act like
true warriors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thrall charged us
with protecting the weak, and there are none weaker than the Neferseti in this
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti live only
because the Alliance protects them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Horde does nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Perhaps we can also vouch for the Neferseti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Absolutely not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we do,
the Alliance will take it as us trying to claim the Neferseti, and then they
will use the Neferseti as troops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a draenic priestess, Ruunea, who leads the relief effort in
Neferset City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She does this
because of her belief in the Light—to think my father might have murdered her
family back in Draenor!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Before my eyes Belskur seemed to crumple.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ruunea protects the Neferseti, and the Alliance lets her because doing
so does not threaten them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
moment the Horde gets involved, the Alliance will assume the worst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ruunea told me so herself when I
pledged to defend her with ax and word against all who challenged her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Then why stay here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Have you not been listening?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I must report on the Alliance’s deeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not that there’s anything to report.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forgive me; you should not be seeing me
like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a warrior, and
must act the part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But all this
damned waiting…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Does the Alliance really trust the Horde so little?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely we can find some common ground
in protecting the Neferseti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the Horde comes
war and plague.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi already
run at our beck and call, and the Alliance will not let the Neferseti meet the
same fate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could end this
by killing some monster, but in this world, if Deathwing dies, we will fight
over the corpse.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The draenei, at least, are very dedicated to their principles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ruunea may be able to make some headway
with her leaders, and perhaps the Horde could persuade the Alliance to let you
help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If what I hear is true, Prophet Velen does have the ear of Prince
Anduin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe when he is king… but
not until then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We continued to talk into the night, a whisper of a southern breeze
unable to relieve the stubborn heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Belskur told me of his coming of age in the internment camps and a youth
spent forging the frontier in the Barrens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When dusk passed, he ate a simple dinner of dense Ramkaheni
bread and lentil soup, and retired soon after finishing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I remained awake, sitting on a pile of shattered adobe in the darkened
house, darkness leeching away the day’s heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind wrestled with the reality of Uldum, its woes
inextricable from Azeroth’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most
see the Neferseti as Uldum’s homegrown villains, but the real evil appeared to
lie with Ramkahen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Yet saying that is just as inaccurate and unfair as blaming
Neferset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever their reasons,
however much they actually knew, the Neferseti did aid the forces of Deathwing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So too did Neferset attack Ramkahen for
control of the central Vir’naal in ancient times; the mighty Vir’naal Dam,
whose mere existence dried up miles of Neferseti farmland, testifies to the
result.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">None of the three factions can truly be described as good or evil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All are opportunistic, fearful, and
determined in equal measure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps this is why the truth of Uldum is so troubling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The morning sun glowed red against the city’s ancient stones, promising
another brutal day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ambled out
into the still and silent bazaar, trying to imagine how it had looked in better
days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Neferseti have lost their future as surely as the Forsaken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had motivated their leaders to
make such a bargain?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stone skin is
of use to warriors, but not to farmers; indeed, what purpose do farmers have
when bodies no longer hunger?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Surely the Neferseti had known this would mean an end to their nation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">If anyone could help the Neferseti, it would be the Earthen of
Ulduar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They alone function as the
Titans presumably intended, and know how to upkeep stone bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conceivably, they might even be able to
produce more tol’vir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the
Neferseti are brought to the Earthen, however, I suspect it will only bring the
Neferseti closer into Alliance orbit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps that is not so terrible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">When Belskur awoke, he suggested going to Whitestone Plaza in the city’s
northwest quadrant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Priestess Ruunea often goes there with her Neferseti charges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should meet them; one speaks
Common.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had mentioned my
familiarity with that language the previous day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I thought the Horde needed to keep its distance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Only from those Neferseti outside of Alliance protection.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">As we walked through the streets, the early morning shadows long and
sharp, Belskur explained that about a hundred Neferseti lived in a refugee camp
west of the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enclosed in the
fens of the Cradle of the Ancients, Ruunea had established it to protect the
surviving family members of high-ranking Neferseti.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A ten-strong Ramkaheni patrol occupied Whitestone Plaza, boredom evident
in their slouched postures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most
lounged in the shade of a partially collapsed warehouse, swatting at the brown
desert flies buzzing around their heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Several hailed Belskur, standing up at his arrival.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Whitestone Plaza had once been a target for the short-lived Neferseti
resistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, the Ramkahen
Legion guards the place against a nonexistent threat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The soldiers themselves are more interested in idling than
in guard duty; as a general rule, the Ramkahen Legion consists mostly of poorly
disciplined volunteers who split their time between military service and
farming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The small professional
core is badly overstretched during the flood season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">By the time Ruunea appeared, garbed in loose-fitting white robes, her
arrival went almost unnoticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
soldiers preferred to hear Belskur’s tales of battling Al’akir and his armies,
and the orc loved the attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belskur
waved to Ruunea, but kept at his story, speaking more quickly but unwilling to
end the retold battle prematurely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ruunea possessed the sort of ageless beauty common to the draenei.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>White hair and horns contrasted with a
perfect face that looked chiseled from cobalt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Accompanying her was a Neferseti woman with a necklace of
turquoise squares set into her stone neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I introduced myself when she finished reporting to the Ramkaheni, and
expressed my curiosity and sympathy regarding the Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belskur had not yet pulled away from
his audience, talking and gesturing like an ecstatic drunk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Your interest is commendable, Brother Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I must inquire as to why you
seek to learn more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are
those who use knowledge for unethical purposes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I travel mostly to satiate my own curiosity, though I tell others of my
findings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I assure you that I
never tell anything to the apothecaries,” I said, fully aware of how poor my
words sounded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How do you know Brother Belskur?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We met by happenstance yesterday, at Siruse’s execution.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Another execution?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry, did you
know him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I did not, but the news is distressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For what was he killed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Belskur himself didn’t seem particularly sure, but he said something
about possible sedition against the Ramkaheni.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are trying to get as many of the Neferseti to the camp as
possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni laws are
in place for good reason, but I fear they enforce them too cruelly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is there anything the Horde can do to help?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you have any influence with them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not really, but I might be able to suggest your ideas to one of the
more reasonable authorities.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Horde can help best by leaving the Orsisi alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This land is under enough stress
without the nomads being turned into weapons.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Point taken.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not
disagree that the Horde’s manipulation of Orsis is immoral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, I could not be sure that the
Alliance didn’t truly intend the same with the Neferseti.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Who is the Neferseti with you?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sister Shepsa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a
very courageous woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her husband
was a priest who died in the war; now she works to sustain and educate other
friends of the old regime.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Does she speak Common or Orcish?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Only Virtic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can tell
you, Brother Destron, that the Neferseti have truly come together in this
troubled time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sister Shepsa has
helped greatly in this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A role model of sorts?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti, much
like your own Forsaken, are a static population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sister Shepsa’s two daughters will never grow up, stuck in
stone as they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this
hardship, they have learned to put faith in the community rather than in a
denied future.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is there any way to return them to flesh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are some who are working on that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Earthen may be able to help manage them in this current
state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few seek answers in the
Skywall—after Al’akir’s death, the air elementals have become more accommodating.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Alliance has diplomatic relations with the Skywall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So paranoid, are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No,
we do not, there are only researchers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Steamwheedle Cartel, of all groups, sees riches in the Skywall, and
offers transport to that place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I see.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I glanced at
Shepsa, her carved features unreadable to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did she know we discussed her nation’s future?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without speaking Virtic, I’d never be
more than a wandering fool in Uldum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Belskur finally broke away from his fans, who slunk back into the
shade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sweat dripped from his
rough face as he bowed before Ruunea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hail, priestess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see you
have met my friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Light be with you, Brother Belskur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brother Destron’s interest in the Neferseti speaks well of
him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did Captain Eltuney
trouble you?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belskur looked
towards one of the lounging Ramkaheni.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our sanctuary is still
tolerated by Ramkahen, thanks mostly to the Explorer’s League.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We saw another execution the other day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The accused cannot fight his way out with either blade or
with word; they just take him up to the square and break him to pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A terrible thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti should not be made into a
race of captives, as the humans did to the orcs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think that the Neferseti need a Thrall of their own?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Belskur’s face scrunched up, and he growled beneath his breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not want to see them trod upon any longer!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The spirit of their race must be
revived!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Brother Belskur, you should consider yourself lucky that I do not
believe there is such a thing as the spirit of a race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is only the Most Holy Light, of
which we are all part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
circumstances differ, but we are all within it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Perhaps saying that is the spirit of the draenei?” chuckled Belskur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Forgive me, I should not make
fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know what my people did to
you, and to the humans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For all
these evil things, don’t I have all the more reason to rankle at cruelty?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sense the despair in this place,
where the deeds of Neferseti heroes are chiseled into the monuments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is some spirit here, something
that is Neferseti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You can theorize, but you have no proof, either spiritual or
material.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only see a people in
need.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ruunea let us follow as she left Whitestone Plaza for the Neferseti
Quarter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and Shepsa hoped to
persuade more Neferseti to relocate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The number of volunteers had slowed in recent months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Those still here feel little hope.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I could not help but wonder if perhaps the camp was not to the liking of
its residents, and that word had spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Again, there was no way for me to know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot easily read the emotions of regular tol’vir and the
Neferseti are far beyond my ability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In my experience, the draenei are often just as saintly as they seem,
though they do not always understand what their friends truly want.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Once called the Merchant’s Quarter, the Neferseti Quarter shows fewer
signs of damage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The poor areas
and the main boulevard had hosted most of the fighting, and the humble Neferseti
merchants owned few possessions worth looting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a strange sight, where dozens of Neferseti stand
motionless, living statues under the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No conversation lightens the hot and dusty air, the place as much of a
tomb as the eastern ruins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Belskur and I waited at the edge of the neighborhood as Ruunea went in
to do her work, so as not to cause disruption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we idled, he told me about his time in Outland, where
he’d fought in the Hellfire Peninsula, Zangarmarsh, and the Blade’s Edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I still remember when I first reached the Path of Glory, stretching as
far as the eye can see, and then realized what it was made of,” he said, his
voice shaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Path of Glory
is the miles-long monument to Horde brutality, a road made of draenic bones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That my people could do that… and it just went on, and on, and on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wept like a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now, after all this, the draenei
still seek to help!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you know that
any orc who now wishes to see Outland must get permission from the warchief?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I hadn’t heard that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Outland is no longer of much value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They do not want these reminders of the past, for fear they
might dull our spirits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it
would make us stronger to know, so that we might fight evil all the harder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ruunea and Shepsa returned at midday with nothing to show for their
efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We joined them on the way
out of the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ruunea’s camp is
nestled between the bluffs and the marshes west of Neferset City, close enough
for her to return on the day of her arrival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and Belskur continued their conversation, Shepsa walking
behind them, her appearance—majestic and even terrifying taken on its own—made
ludicrous by the gulf separating us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I longed to reach out, but could neither understand nor learn from
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I again felt the weight of
the world, all its history and torment, pressing on my back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We at last reached a place where rows of abandoned houses crack under
the sun’s heat, the lush greenery of the Cradle of the Ancients just a few
miles away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">At Neferset’s height, the Vir’naal River Delta and the Cradle of the
Ancients had supported their three great cities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enslaved Ramkaheni and Orsisi struggled up the narrow paths
to Neferset City, pulling enormous carts weighed down with food grown on the riverbanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Vir’naal Dam reduced the output of the delta, spurring riots in the lush
metropolis of the Lost City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
disobedience, say the Neferseti, roused the wrath of the gods, who dried up the
Cradle of the Ancients in a terrible drought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neferset never recovered, and hatred of Ramkahen seeped into
their very bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neferseti
priests had taken the Cradle of the Ancients’ recent and mysterious renewal as
a sign of divine support, only to lose the war a few weeks later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What did the Neferseti believe?” I asked Ruunea, feeling silly for
relying so much on her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They followed the same gods as the other tol’vir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you may know, the Ramkaheni and
Orsisi both believe that the gods turned the tol’vir to flesh and departed to
the heavens after growing disgusted with their worshippers’ poor behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti differ in this; they
believe that some malign entity turned them into flesh, and that the gods
shunned them as a result.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What sort of malign entity?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Neferseti called it Kutep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Was Kutep blamed for other disasters?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No; Neferseti legends say that the god Aman cursed Kutep before
leaving, trapping him within stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some think there is a link between Kutep and C’thun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti still blamed the
unfortunate for their own problems.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do they blame themselves for losing the war?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Some do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More than any
other tol’vir, the Neferseti wished to return to stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the servants of Al’akir made the
offer, the priests jumped at the chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here was the entire point of their existence, a chance to usher in a
return to glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They did not care
that it would physically doom their people, for they saw in it spiritual
salvation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Many, like Sister Shepsa, now think that the Neferseti must have been
wrong all this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some still
believe that they are being tested, but they are few in number.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do the ones in your care all follow the Light?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My main purpose here
is to protect the Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By my
actions, I spread the Most Holy Light, and can educate a few of them in more
detail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there it may spread.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ruunea at last bade us farewell, walking down the path to the Cradle of
the Ancients.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could just see the
camp down below, massive stone figures shadows against the pale tents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Have you ever seen the camp up close?” I asked Belskur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Once, when I went ahead on a scouting mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ruunea is a good person, Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Neferseti need protection.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I agree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose a part
of me is suspicious, but the draenei have always been fair-minded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only wish I could talk to one of the
Neferseti about this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do not worry about it; I am sure Ruunea told you the essentials.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Sighing at my own helplessness, I watched the sun descend into the empty
lands, its searing heat a short-lived ghost in the desert night.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSsxMJUgMms/UWy32VTXY2I/AAAAAAAACZc/aRr-YEwQFyc/s1600/Cradle+of+the+Ancients.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSsxMJUgMms/UWy32VTXY2I/AAAAAAAACZc/aRr-YEwQFyc/s400/Cradle+of+the+Ancients.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-34240933492339994732013-03-31T11:06:00.000-07:002013-03-31T11:06:18.996-07:00Uldum: Part 2
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_wFUx0dgDxA/UVh6bEmSVKI/AAAAAAAACYg/79t1kiQf2Gg/s1600/Eden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_wFUx0dgDxA/UVh6bEmSVKI/AAAAAAAACYg/79t1kiQf2Gg/s400/Eden.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I bought passage on a riverboat ferrying pilgrims between Mar’at and the
Vir’naal Dam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Massive tol’vir
crowded the boat aft to prow, standing rigid to keep it from capsizing, me as
skinny as a reed between the tremendous bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feared the slightest jolt would send a tol’vir toppling
over me, and the sussurated prayers recited in endless litany by the passengers
suggested a degree of anxiety on their part.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DhDtDy6tbg/UVh6eWdhBCI/AAAAAAAACZA/QgmQex4rnvU/s1600/River+Docks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DhDtDy6tbg/UVh6eWdhBCI/AAAAAAAACZA/QgmQex4rnvU/s400/River+Docks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Our helmsmen kept us within sight of the shore, landing in the reeds
every night to let the passengers rest on solid ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the boats in Uldum are too
small to carry very many, and those on-board must often endure painful
overcrowding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Even so, I got used to the cramped quarters after the first day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a sense of the eternal in
Vir’naal’s steady current, carrying passengers past sandstone fishing villages
half-hidden by reeds, dozing beneath swaying palms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every year the river brings life (and death) to those on its
shores, the floods replenishing the moist black earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glimpses of temples and monuments show
Uldum’s brightness unceasing through the ages as others succumb to time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Of course, this is a romantic illusion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However grand Uldum might be, it is far from
unchanging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ignoring the recent
events, one must always remember that its great eastern cities were not always
buried in sand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was surprised to find another tol’vir able to speak Orcish among the
passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inexperience makes it
hard for me to distinguish one tol’vir from another, but the woman named
Khatefa stood out from the crowd, the fur around her eyes streaked with ash and
black linen draped around her shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We met on the second night, the stars bright above the reeds as the
pilgrims set up camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Khatefa
stood at the shore, losing herself in the river’s constant flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had worked as a papyrus merchant in
Mar’at and had learned Orcish so as to cater to the Reliquary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Married to a warrior named Ptasun, and a
mother of two children, she had once counted herself among Ramkahen’s most
fortunate until a fire destroyed her home and killed her family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not know why this has happened to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a good woman, and I always obeyed my husband and cared
for the little ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dealt
fairly with those who sought my business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All of this, and I am judged wanting!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Judged?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, by the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I
been unfaithful or disobedient I would know why, and could make
restitution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet there are no
answers!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now my neighbors spit on
me, for they have seen the results of my sin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tongues of wicked women, once my friends, remember every
slight and shame, though they have all done the same and worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is why I go to Vir’naal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wish to know what wrong I did to deserve this fate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used what little money I have left to
buy passage and some incense that I will burn on the altar, so I will smell
good and sweet like a wife should.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I found myself torn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
little use for a religion that assumes misfortune is a sign of divine
retribution, and assigns blame to the victim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet what could I say that would convince Khatefa she was not
at fault?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps the ritual would
at least provide her with some closure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cannot even imagine the guilt she felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her matter-of-fact tone suggested exhaustion rather than
emotional restraint.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Forgive my ignorance, but I know little of your gods,” I said, not sure
how to proceed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They are generous, and gave a paradise to our forefathers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single thing we need to prosper
is found in these lands, placed in anticipation of our need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you know that feeling, outlander?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That the world is made for you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tol’vir belong here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Did the gods also protect Uldum from the outside world?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“For eons yes, until prideful Neferset bargained with the Enemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gods lifted their protection to
punish all tol’vir, so that we might never forget our place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“But the Ramkaheni defeated Neferset, did they not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, but our righteousness could not wipe the stain of their sins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now lamentations rise from the markets
and the fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are few who
are still righteous in the eyes of the gods.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What do you think the people of Uldum should do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Kind visitor, I am only a woman, and a wicked one too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would I, whose husband and children lie
dead, have any wisdom to offer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can only beseech the gods—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Her voice broke, a ragged cry escaping from a fanged mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What a dark time in our land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I fear worse is to come.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are those who say that it is always darkest before dawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps things will improve.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Brave words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who are your
gods?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That is a difficult question to answer,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was once human; perhaps you have
seen them among the visitors?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I know of them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Most of my kind no longer follow human ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still do, to an extent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Humans and others believe in the Holy Light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Holy Light is not a deity, but rather
a force that connects all thinking beings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this reason, we are to be good to each other.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Did the Light create your lands?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Holy Light exists
with us, but does not rule us in the manner of a sovereign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are all a part of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Strange thoughts to me,” she said, with a sound almost like purring
from her throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You are good to
each other to gain the favor of the Light?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not precisely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is said,
however, that no one can truly be happy so long as sadness still exists in the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conversely, no one can be
without hope so long as some joy remains.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That does not make sense!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We Ramkaheni are happy to see our foes fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their anguish is our delight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You outlanders are no different; I know of the war between
the Horde and the Alliance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, this is true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all
outlanders believe in the Holy Light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And those who do may not always agree on what it truly means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saints and scoundrels both ascribe to
the faith.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Our gods are much simpler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They rule this world, gifting the faithful and punishing the
wicked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What more can there
be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We see the work of Aman in the
sun as it moves across the sky, and the generosity of Eonys in the cries of
newborns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But your god is wise,
and you must be righteous indeed to be so favored.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Holy Light is not a god—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“But you treat him as such.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Those of us who follow the Light do so because we believe it to be the
right thing to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Believe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you not know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All believers debate and disagree to some extent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some believe that they hear what is
right within them, but they cannot know for sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Your god is a very complicated one, if you do not mind my saying
so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our gods set the world to
order, and what we must do is never in doubt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Faces hidden behind curved metal beaks, the temple guards watched in
silence as the pilgrims disembarked with a rush of sighs and weeping, the red
light of the setting sun on their bent backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They walked up the dirt path on trembling legs, offerings
held out before them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only when
the boat had nearly emptied did the guards’ hawk heads swivel to focus on me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you come to pay tribute to our gods?” boomed one, his words almost
incomprehensible through the metal helmet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I bring only this pouch of saffron,” I said, taking it out from my
coat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If it is insufficient, I
will not trouble you—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This is a paltry gift, but we will accept it for what the Horde has
given us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The priests are glad to
share their wisdom with outsiders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They speak with the force of the gods, and the hearts of the wicked stop
at their presence.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron had warned me that the guards would make a big show of allowing
entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So long as I presented
myself humbly, I would be let inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can only pray that one finds me worthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I seek them because Ramkahen’s wisdom is without equal.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I will confess that part of me already suspected that my conversations
with Khatefa had been more illuminating than anything the priests could
offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Give me the saffron,” ordered the guard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hurrying to the banks, I handed it to him, noting how tiny it
looked in his tremendous clawed hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stay in the guest house; tell them that Nulm has granted you entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tomorrow morning, a messenger will tell
you if a priest has chosen to grant you an audience.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thank you for this honor, good sir,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In the lengthening darkness I could still see the pilgrims in line to
approach the temples inside the dam, casting incense into braziers that exhaled
torrents of sweet smoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Virtic
chants reverberated in the balmy evening as the priests accepted their petitioners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I went up to the square limestone house that the guard had
indicated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A female tol’vir
ushered me inside once I told her that Nulm had sent me, and I was shown to a
large stone room (not much more than a cell by tol’vir standards) decorated with
soft rugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I drifted to sleep on
the sounds of worship, and dreamed of lions playing in the dusk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Morning reveals the Vir’naal Dam’s true glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Encased in polished limestone of the purest quality, the dam
flashes in the light of the sun, a gleaming smile that stretches for
miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Freestanding gates are regularly
spaced along the dam, held up by slender pillars nearly too tall to stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>White and narrow cascades spill from
the smooth wall, feeding the shallow and lily-choked waters of the southern Vir’naal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Vir’naal Dam is a marvel of engineering, perhaps the greatest of its
kind in Azeroth after the tragic destruction of the Stonewrought Dam (I have no
doubt that the Bronzebeards will one day restore it).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The construction possesses the same elegant and airy quality
seen elsewhere in Uldum, and looks almost too delicate for its intended
purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The messenger promised by Nulm arrived shortly after daybreak, and told
me that a priest by the name of Ibos would see me at noon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until then, I had free reign of the
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sacred fields west of
the Vir’naal Dam are called Thutmet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There, Ramkaheni kings and heroes rest in the confines of trapezoidal
crypts, the deeds of the interred painted in bold colors along the walls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Pilgrims to the Vir’naal Dam first present themselves to the high
priest, who waits at the western edge (the west represents death).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After benedictions, a lesser priest
dressed as Phetnu, the vulture-headed psychopomp, leads the worshippers through
the ancient galleries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Already exhausted to the bone by the long voyage, the pilgrims stumble
bleary-eyed onto the eastern banks, the greenery replete with shrines dedicated
to specific gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, they
anoint themselves and place gifts on gilded altars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The journey from west to east represents an escape from
death, a return to the divine perfection from which the world first
emanated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pilgrims typically spend
two days in the holy lands before taking the homeward ferry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The messenger fetched me at noon as promised, a masked temple guard at
his side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In silence we walked to
the Vir’naal Dam, going into a small gatehouse leading to steep staircase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Entering the shadows beneath, I felt
the stale and clammy air, suffused with centuries of burnt incense and tired
bodies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A grand hall runs through the Vir’naal Dam, its dimensions perhaps
appropriate for the Titans that the tol’vir so love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great windows line the northern wall, looking out directly
into the submerged world of the Vir’naal River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shafts of sunlight cast mottled reflections on the solid
south wall, the pale glow sullied by the river’s effluvium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Though spectacular in its construction, the dam’s interior is quite void
of decoration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The effect is one
of solitude, the surface world’s knowledge of the gods transformed into blind
faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ibos waited farther ahead, an acolyte at each side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fantastic jackal mask of metal and
precious stones covered his entire head, letting all know his connection to the
gods (for it is the jackal-headed god Anbat who guards the gate to the
afterlife, allowing only the virtuous to pass through under the auspices of
Phetnu).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Light glinted on the
polished black ears that more closely resembled horns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I got down on one knee, lowering my head though Ibos had not yet acknowledged
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A long minute passed before he
at last spoke, the voice a whispery echo from behind the mask, like that of a
man long since ready to pass from this world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You may stand, Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The followers of the Horde are friends of Ramkahen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am much obliged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
told that you shared your wisdom to those who asked for it, and was wondering
if you would be willing to share with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It is the gods who decide what I may share with others, but they have
commanded me to be generous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask
what you please, but do not take too much of my time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From where did
the tol’vir come?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Can you not ask the dwarves?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A muffled laugh reverberated from inside the mask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The gods made us, for our presence
pleased them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They carved us from
stone and breathed life into our forms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For themselves, the gods had crafted paradise; they asked us only to
preserve it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yet in time the tol’vir grew proud, and challenged the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We disobeyed they who gave us so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In wrath they turned us from stone to
flesh, and our people felt pain for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In their mercy, they left us Uldum, and promised that those
who stayed faithful would return to blessed stone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was already mentally reinterpreting the tol’vir creation myths according
to what I’d heard from other sources.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Like the dwarves, gnomes, and humans, the tol’vir had once been Titan
constructs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They too had fallen
victim to the Curse of Flesh (though having seen what the Titanborn have
accomplished on their own, I am not convinced that it is truly a curse).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">It also matched the tauren myths, which suppose that the tauren lived in
bountiful peace with the Earthmother until led astray by the insidious whispers
below the earth, most likely from the Old Gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Old Gods are also responsible for the Curse of Flesh,
which has led some to believe that the tauren are also Titanborn, though no
evidence for this has been discovered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Neferseti heretics doubted the gods, and sought to return to stone
by way of the Enemy, whom you call Al’Akir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ruin of their cities is proof enough of our
righteousness, for the gods do not allow the righteous to suffer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was tempted to ask about the lean times being faced by many Ramkaheni,
but took the easy way out; I did not want to risk offending Ibos, and in so
doing hinder the Horde’s relations with Ramkahen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I had heard about the Neferseti stone warriors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have they all been destroyed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“All Neferseti, from lowliest peasant to greatest warrior, are locked in
cursed stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the outlanders—most
of them from the Alliance—have interceded on the behalf of the surviving
Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We let the Neferseti
live, for now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you wish to kill all of them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What I wish is irrelevant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Their bodies are everlasting insults to the gods.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why did the Neferseti do this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We have long shunned the Neferseti, for they are a wicked and
capricious race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their reasons do
not matter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What of the Orsisi?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Orsisi have returned to the deserts from whence they came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps they will again plague
Ramkahen, but we will be ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ramkahen was allied with Orsis at the time of the Neferset War,
correct?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“In a sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You must
understand that it is not the way of the Orsisi to build cities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The metropolis that bears their name
was a gift from King Makhtes III to the Orsis Host.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most Orsisi lived as savages in the dunes, even after this
gift.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If I might ask, why are so many of the great Ramkaheni cities
empty?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are many in
the east.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great Hebedes, fabled
Tesset, myrrh-scented Nirnak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
to the west, Khoros-of-Many-Pillars, and Ammon, once ruled by Neferset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a time, when Uldum was new, we
spread across its surface.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for
what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We became indolent, and the
gods’ anger manifested in a deathly heat that shrunk the Vir’naal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We left the cities to the sands,
content with what remained.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I have heard that a new river has reappeared in the south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Cradle of the Ancients, I
believe?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You are correct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gods
restored it to show the rightness of our cause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let it never be said that they are without humor, for in
ages past the Cradle of the Ancients belonged to Neferset.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What can you tell me of Ramkahen’s future?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am told the priests have the gift of prophecy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The high priest is the only one permitted to see into the strands of
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sees how the currents of
the river reflect the currents of history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Indeed, Vir’naal is life itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Look at its shape; it begins as thin rivulets in the dry mountains,
meandering and unsure like the first steps of a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet it grows into youth, the two
northern tributaries called Tiye, the Daughter, and Num, the Son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Swift and impetuous they meet in the
waters of the Vir’naal proper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Stately and sure like a tol’vir in prime, the river flows south, losing
itself in the eternal reeds and trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the delta the flow splits, exploring the many routes to its
termination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally it arrives in
the dead waters of the southern sea.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Dead waters?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Surely even your kind cannot drink the salty waters?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, forgive me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
referring to the fish.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are fish aplenty in the waters of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why then seek death?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ramkahen’s future is to endure as always.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our triumph against Neferset confirms this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, there is much I will ask you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Forsaken remain obscure even to
me…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ibos’ polite interrogation lasted for more than an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I answered to the extent that my
knowledge and Horde security would allow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That he questioned me in such detail belied his public confidence about
Ramkahen’s future. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His inquiries
tended to be more about Forsaken political structure and philosophy, rather
than the faction’s military capabilities (I am sure he knew that Ramkahen’s
military is hopelessly outdated).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I think that Ibos was trying to decide how Ramkahen could best learn from
the outside world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the gods
favored anyone, it would appear to be the Horde and the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Implementing cultural change is a
daunting task, made all the more challenging by such a conservative
society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Though the Ramkaheni elite enjoys nearly uncontested (though not
undivided) power over the populace, it needs to be remembered that the populace
has bought into the larger cultural narrative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should the priesthood try to inculcate change, they may run
the real risk of angering worshippers who see such actions as heresy; it would
be a simple matter for opportunistic acolytes to take advantage of this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I believe that the other members of the High Council depend (to a
greater or lesser degree) on High Priest Amet and his followers for
legitimacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Authoritarianism
relies on cultural acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
Amet challenges this on the advice of Ibos or some other priest, his position
will not be the only one under threat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">When finished, Ibos thanked me for my time, the glass eyes of his mask
turning again to the river’s haze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Guards, silent and attentive, took me up the stairs to the blinding
glare of the afternoon sun, hammering the sandy hills into gold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Cooled by the green shade of the river valley, warriors of the Ramkahen
Legion keep watch over the western dunes as their ancestors had done in
generations past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Golden eyes
forlorn, they wait for the dust and smoke that will herald the return of the
Orsisi nomads, who once scourged the palm-lined avenues and painted
sanctuaries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Arsad Trade Post continues its commercial role for now, but the
promise of war waits in the hot desert air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where once a rainbow band of pavilions hosted all manner of
exchange, only a few dusty tents remain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Inspired by tales of the Orsisi, I had journeyed to the Arsad Trade Post
in order to learn more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I departed
Mar’at on the day of my return, staying only long enough to tell Daj’yah of my
whereabouts; as far as I could tell, she had comfortably settled into her role
as a translator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time was of the
essence; at the docks, I had learned that the Ptath Band, a group of Orsisi,
would soon arrive in Arsad, but would not stay for long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Upon arriving, I spoke with Harutep, a captain of the Ramkahen
Legion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In halting Orcish, he
asked about my reasons for being there, his sleek feline face unreadable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You are not on official Horde business?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am only a scholar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
simply want to learn more about the Orsisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Orsisi have little to teach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They are barbarians, cursed by the gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why else would their city be in ruins, their people
scattered to the desert?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They may serve as a useful example for others, and are thus worth
examining,” I said, feeling a bit guilty over my statement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I fought alongside many brave Horde warriors in the Neferset War, so I
will not stand in your way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, I cannot permit you to take any weapons to them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I carry none; you may search my belongings, if you like.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Terse orders from Harutep summoned orderlies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harutep asked me to empty my backpack and his subordinates
made a salutary attempt to search for something obviously not present.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Orsisi may yet be a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I do not question the friendship of the Horde, but I fear that… rogue
Alliance agents might be trying to cause trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is Ramkahen worried about the Alliance befriending the Orsisi?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It is a concern.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>High
General Kamses respects the Horde, and listens to their counsel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Well, I can assure you that I am not of the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their people cannot easily disguise
themselves as mine.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered
how hard it would be for humans to pass themselves off as a Forsaken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doing so would be within the realm of
possibility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Very well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can buy
food from the nearby villages while you wait for the Ptath Band.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is difficult to know when they will
arrive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of their raiders, Somhet
by name, speaks Orcish.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How did he come to learn it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“For what is the Ptath Band known?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That you should ask them, though I can tell you that they are great
warriors of the desert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is for
this reason that we must now guard the west.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I waited for two days at the Arsad Trade Post, enduring the air of
sullen dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the guards’ eyes
I imagined memories of fearful nighttime battles, as much present as past in
their words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Ptath Band arrived without much ceremony, leading a long train of
camels and goats towards Arsad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
nomads wrap their heads in dun cloth, leaving only narrow slits through which
to see; this is to guard against blindness during sandstorms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without any gold or finery,
Teldes, the chieftain of the Ptath Band, marched up to the trading post with
all the assurance of a king, an image enhanced by his silent bodyguards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though the guards held spears, I was
more troubled by the high caliber orcish rifles strapped to their backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cornucopia of grown food, mostly
fruits and vegetables, had been spread out on a crimson rug in the middle of
the post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I watched as the Ptath Orsisi appraised the gifts, waiting for them to
finish before I showed myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Harutep had coached me on basic etiquette, and assured me that I would
be accepted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking at the
nomads, I began to have second thoughts; though physically smaller than the
Ramkaheni, they possessed all the lean and fierce strength that a nomadic life
brings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">At last the leader held up his hand and uttered something in Virtic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ramkaheni porters gathered up the goods
and placed them in cylindrical wicker baskets, some half as tall as a human,
and tied them to waiting camels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was witnessing what passes for trade at Arsad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ramkaheni goods are laid out for the
Orsisi, who take what they want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In return, the Orsisi leave behind a few of their smaller animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At no point do the Orsisi engage with
the Ramkahen, a wall of ancestral contempt between the two factions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">After the exchange, I introduced myself to the Ptath Band, specifically
to a warrior by the name of Somhet, a lean tol’vir whose fur was so light as to
almost be white. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He greeted me
with enthusiasm and immediately asked if I knew an orcish warrior named Uzmal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Horde is truly a brave bunch, from what Uzmal has told me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are like the Orsisi of the outside
world, bringing woe to their enemies, hearts filled with honor!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I was perturbed to learn that Uzmal had been giving modern weapons to
the Orsisi bands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That must have
been the reason that Harutep had searched me; perhaps he’d blamed Alliance
activity to avoid causing offense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somhet knew little about the Horde beyond Uzmal’s glorified
account.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imagined Orgrimmar as
a tent city instead of an urban conglomeration that dwarfs anything in Uldum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somhet was the only tol’vir in the Ptath Band who spoke Orcish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An experienced fighter (he’d apparently
slain five of the Hammer-aligned paramilitaries), Somhet was respected within
his community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I could not
communicate with the other nomads, they appeared enthusiastic about my
visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uzmal had apparently
described the Forsaken as simply another warrior race, ferocious in spite of
our decrepitude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Please join us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure
you are weary of the soft cities,” said Somhet, not long after our
introduction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am honored!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I
cannot stay with you for too long, as I have obligations elsewhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are heading south, to the Cradle of the Ancients, where we spend
much of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ptath Band
roams the western edge of the Vir’naal River Valley, so it will be easy for you
to leave if you must.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“On that case, I would be happy to accept.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">With that, I settled into the nomadic routine as best I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As far as I could tell, the rest of the
Ptath Orsisi share Somhet’s enthusiasm for the Horde (I must marvel at how thoroughly
Uzmal had impressed them).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
allowed me to ride one of the camels, which the tol’vir use as pack animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Native to Uldum, camels are curious beasts, quick and agile in spite of
their awkward appearances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
heard them described as furry horses, though this is not really adequate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They stand on spindly legs that are
capable of remarkable agility and bear massive humps on their backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These humps store fat that the camel
can use as an internalized source of food and water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Long and ponderous necks support a goat-like head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The camel is quickly becoming a popular mode of transport in other
desert regions, and could become a profitable export for the Orsisi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are smarter and more temperamental
than horses; even when tamed, they are stubborn and will spit on those who
annoy them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This quality actually
endears them to the Orsisi, who take it as a sign of the animal’s strong
spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be “proud like a camel”
is to have done something of great worth (usually, this term connotes a deed
done in the past that has secured one’s name rather than something recent, the
idea being that the camel’s pride has significant pedigree).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Orsisi are divided into bands consisting of anywhere between four
and ten families; Somhet knew of eight bands, including his own, but claimed
that there are many others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Uldum’s environment poses some very real challenges for a pastoral
lifestyle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grazing lands are few
and far between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Vir’naal
River Valley has always been a prime location, which once resulted in friction
between Orsis and Ramkahen, and may do so again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other bands relied on the Oasis of Vir’sar in the northwest,
and the Cradle of the Ancients in the south.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The staple food animals are goats and rams; camels are typically used as
beasts of burden, though they will be eaten during lean times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Orsisi are smaller than their
sedentary brethren, they are still quite large compared to humans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, it is often difficult for
them to maintain sufficiently large herds. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In ancient times, Orsisi with depleted herds might raid their
richer kin, but this changed thanks to a nomad chief remembered as Khades the
Mighty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Ramkaheni never speak of Khades!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mere mention of his name sends them scurrying to their
parapets!” laughed Somhet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Ptath had set up camp for the evening, Somhet and I leaning close to a roaring
camel dung fire, the heat a poor shelter from the cold winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held a bowl (fashioned from part of
a goat skull) filled with goat’s milk soup in his immense paws.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What did Khades do?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He sees how the weak Ramkaheni and Neferseti grow fat and soft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our lives in the desert make us hard
and fierce, so we should take from the farmers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are easier prey than other Orsisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I noticed you use present tense even in Orcish.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, for speaking of things as if they are past degrades them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One may as well say the past is no
more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even when we speak other
tongues, I speak of things as they are in truth, not how some might remember
them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Fair enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So Khades
united—excuse me, unites—the Orsis?”<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, you are a wise one!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But do not feel obliged; your ways are not our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Khades is the first leader of the Orsis
Host, and we make war under him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Were the Orsisi always united?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Only when there is need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If the herds are full and fat, why raid?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A good point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I first
visited Uldum, I heard about another Orsisi leader named Hameth the Jackal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He comes after Khades?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tales of glory seek
out the ears of warriors like you Hordelings, and inspire you to even braver
deeds!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, Hameth the Jackal
brings woe to the holdings of north Ramkahen, and breaks the capital’s mighty
walls to fall onto the golden temples and treasures.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He fought Khartut, did he not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If indeed such a slaughter can be called a fight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The great Ramkaheni multitudes march,
many hundreds of thousands strong, to bring an end to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the Orsisi fall upon them; though
we are outnumbered five to one, each Orsisi kills fifty times his number.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“When the sun sets, we put the survivors to death, and Khartut flees
behind his walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For us, there is
celebration, and we go back to our tents with enough food for a thousand
feasts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I compared it to the Ramkaheni account, which posited a clear victory
for Khartut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Orsisi version of
the tale does not completely contradict this; it could be that Khartut had
achieved his goal of driving out the nomads, by which point the Orsisi had
already been satisfied by their robberies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The battle they fought was certainly smaller than described.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That must have been a grand thing to see,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, the battles of today are paltry things compared to the battles of
our fathers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps we shall
impress them yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I also understand that the Orsisi possessed a city at some point.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We will go by that cursed place in a few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will tell you more when we arrive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Ibos had mentioned the now-fallen city, a splendid bribe of streets and
palaces given to the Orsisi in ages past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Called Orsis City (the tol’vir share humanity’s irritating habit of
giving the same name to a nation and its capital), it was wiped out in an
unnatural sandstorm during the Neferset War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air elementals of Al’akir, Neferset’s supernatural ally,
had claimed responsibility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Though the nomads hold city-dwellers in utmost contempt, many of their
number did make their homes in Orsis City’s now sand-drowned homes and
streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>News of the massacre
reached Orgrimmar, and pundits exhorted the Horde to strike back against an
elemental menace that would kill so many innocents.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Dismay over the city’s fate proved short-lived, attention drifting to
more immediate dangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ibos’
description had painted a picture of a small yet bejeweled city, a gift humbly
offered in return for peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
I actually saw, a few days later, is a melancholy sweep of ruination, the tips
of forlorn citadels peeking sadly out from the tops of towering dunes, ghostly
veils of sand rippling in empty valleys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P4OpzSAFTYY/UVh6eUmGGtI/AAAAAAAACY8/ZMkTYl8W8pg/s1600/Ruins+of+Orsis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P4OpzSAFTYY/UVh6eUmGGtI/AAAAAAAACY8/ZMkTYl8W8pg/s400/Ruins+of+Orsis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In a ringing voice Somhet described how a day of darkness preceded a day
of screaming winds, sand stripping flesh and filling mouths stretched in
screams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps I only imagined
the satisfaction in his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What manner of people lived here?” I asked, my voice scarce above a
whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Cowards and weaklings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
last master of the Orsis Host is Simatep, who brings woe to Mar’at in
generations past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet he is made
of weaker stuff than Khades and Hameth, and accepts the poisoned gifts from
Ramkahen’s Seat of Plenty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now you
see the results.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Simatep must have had many followers,” I said, the city still grand in
scale beneath the sand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Ramkaheni give Orsis City tribute, and its people multiply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orsis City demands that we, the
followers of the true way, bring them our herds, yet we cannot satisfy their
greed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor can we strike back,
with so many turned against us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“More Orsisi lived here than without, I take it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fueled by the grain
and gold of Ramkahen, the city steals our work and takes our land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So hungry is this den of vipers and
thieves that the Ramkaheni must dam the river to water the growing fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orsis City is an abomination.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How many survived the city’s fall?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The gods saved a few so that they might warn others of the wicked
city’s folly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We do not call them
Orsisi any longer, and they cower in the towns of Ramkahen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“But I thought that Al’akir, not the gods, destroyed the city.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The gods do not lift their protection without reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They let the city-dwellers grow fat and
lazy so that their fall might better show the price of pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni will listen, if they are
wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So too might the Alliance,”
he added, making a harsh noise somewhere between a laugh and a sneer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What do the gods wish of the Orsisi?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Obedience and honor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
elders tell how in the days of creation, the gods build golden cities up from
the burning sands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They craft the
tol’vir from stone, and all is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But we become poor children, selfish and petty, so they turn us to flesh
and depart from this world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yet still the tol’vir do not learn!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ramkahen and Neferset create mockeries of the gods’ work and
declare themselves holy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never
shall we Orsisi pretend to be gods, and for this reason we are favored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only when our leaders become weak and
hear the honeyed lies of Ramkahen do we suffer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this reason, we must close our hearts to their
entreaties.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I said nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had the
nomads always hated their namesake city?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps it had once been seen as proof of their victory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The image of triumph turned to one of
loss as Orsis City encroached and corralled the desert wanderers, its memory
becoming a curse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it is fit to
be remembered only as a warning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">And what of the Vir’naal Dam?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had not thought to ask about the structure’s history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Ramkaheni had built it to increase
their water supply, though it would also decrease that available to Neferseti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did the heretics have a more pragmatic
reason to hate their northern kin?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Horde and the Alliance have stumbled into this ancient land,
grasping blindly for new weapons and warriors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The forces of Deathwing may have been defeated in Uldum, but
I fear that this realm has not yet seen the worst of its tribulations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-59946246018586339712013-03-15T17:27:00.003-07:002013-03-15T17:27:40.580-07:00Uldum: Part 1
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mOcyf2D5Llk/UUO7UDCrxBI/AAAAAAAACXc/ShPbZpxfhA0/s1600/Uldum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mOcyf2D5Llk/UUO7UDCrxBI/AAAAAAAACXc/ShPbZpxfhA0/s400/Uldum.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A sense of torrid oppression hangs over the wilderness of Kalimdor's
southernmost longitudes, a quality more felt than truly seen. Bones and
ruins sink into Tanaris' endless sands, while a toothy darkness fills Un'goro's
jungles; the less said about Silithus, the better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In contrast, the world opens up all at once past the mountains ringing
Uldum, the land’s puffy clouds scudding through capacious blue skies. Just
as dry and harsh as its equivalent in Tanaris, Uldum's golden sands offer the
illusion of life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Gate of Unending Cycles guards the mountain pass leading into Uldum,
the cliff paved with tremendous blocks of stone. Bronze statues of
animal-headed guardians watch from cavernous alcoves, majestic in their
indifference. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Titan safeguards that had so long concealed Uldum from the eyes of
the world failed during the Cataclysm, revealing the last great city of
antiquity. Researchers from around the world hoped to at last find
answers to the questions posed by Uldaman and Ulduar. War and time had
driven out the inhabitants of those cities, but Uldum's original protectors had
remained and even thrived in the form of the tol’vir. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Reality seldom matches the fevered expectations of dwarven
archaeologists, and one could almost hear the gnashing of teeth in Ironforge as
researchers explored the temples. As is so often the case, the questions
answered by Uldum served to bring about even more questions. Nor was Uldum
preserved from the world's chaos, as the age-old realm erupted into war, and
mercenary bandits sought to claim a Titan artifact capable of wiping all life
from Azeroth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Uldum appears calm today, but as I would soon find, confusion and
instability still roil beneath the surface. At the Gate of Unending
Cycles, however, I did not even have the slightest inkling of such problems.
The air itself offers hopes of glory and revelation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Kulud's caravan had made good time going around the treacherous Abyssal
Sands. A Broken who'd slipped past the attention of the draenei, Kulud
had found a new life among the goblins. His flowing white robes, the hems
and sleeves decorated with gilded abstractions, demonstrated his success.
Kulud's wagons were laden with silks and spices that fetch a relatively high
price in Uldum despite the gradual market saturation of recent months.
He'd return to Gadgetzan with semiprecious jewels and papyrus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He employed a sizeable group of porters
and guards, mostly split between goblins and other Broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An ogre bodyguard and a human seneschal
rounded out the crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Besides Daj’yah and myself, there was another traveler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Called Jamet, he was the first tol’vir
either of us had seen in the flesh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The tol’vir are a physically intimidating species, powerfully built
crosses between centaurs and great cats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jamet stood nearly nine feet in height, covered in russet-colored
fur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For clothes he wore only a
harness and a thick sash around his waist, the latter held in place by a gold
plate inscribed with symbols of learning: a diagonal brush and a triangular
inkpot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The government of Ramkahen (currently the only viable political entity
in Uldum) is understandably anxious about the outside world, but has sent only
a few representatives to explore Azeroth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jamet was a scribe, ordered by King Phaoris to learn of Gadgetzan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jamet’s packs were near overflowing
with scrolls containing his report.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He looks like our kind of tol’vir,” remarked Daj’yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We passed much of the journey speaking with Jamet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He saw his task as no mere assignment,
but as something akin to a holy quest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It is the will of King Phaoris that the world be known to him, for he
is Azeroth’s First Sovereign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have strained to make my words accurate, though I fear this simple mind found
much that was confusing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The shape of the tol’vir muzzle makes it very difficult for them to pronounce
Orcish, though they can be understood with some effort (Gilneans in worgen form
must deal with a similar challenge).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Despite this, he spoke with flawless grammar and construction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The holy words first uttered by the Ancient Ones created this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When They said <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">atap</i>, which you call a palm tree, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">atapi</i> grew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every
language is a world, and though you call it a palm tree and we Virtic-speakers call
it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">atap</i>, they are not the same
thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“But is not a palm tree the same no matter what it is called?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“In the physical sense, yes, but not in the spiritual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Atap</i>
conjures Uldum, its riverside trees swaying in a cool wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We remember how Horut, our first king,
rested in their shade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are
not associations others would make.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“However, by telling me of these associations, I too can make them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, but not in the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You still construct the image with Orcish words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you forgot every word you knew and
learned Virtic instead, then perhaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is why the tol’vir treat all languages with great respect.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A wise stance to take.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Curious as to how a tol’vir would see the outside world, I asked Jamet
about his experience in Gadgetzan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His brow furrowed in an endearingly anthropomorphic expression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I fear that any report I make will be inadequate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gadgetzan has already changed since my
visit, for there is no permanence there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your world, I fear, is outside my experience.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Would you say Uldum is more constant?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“In a sense, though much has changed over the past years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet it is more constant than the
goblins, who see only dreams.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“To understand the world, one must look at it as it has always been: to
see the permanence of the desert , to see the Titans’ glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goblins dream things, and then
pursue them, though no precedence for these dreams exists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are not a realistic people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are all the races of the world like the
goblins?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should say none of them are like the goblins, nor are any like each
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As to how they compare to
the tol’vir, I cannot say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jamet nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are other scribes like myself in the distant places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much will be discussed when they
return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The caravan spent two days descending the sandy foothills, the vivid
blue streak of the Vir’naal River and its verdant banks a tantalizing
promise. Called the Artery of Life in some translations, Uldum's
civilization is dependent on the Vir’naal's steady flood cycle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Late afternoon saw us reach the level ground on the edge of Khartut's
Tomb, a wondrous ruin in northern Uldum. A statue of a tol'vir reaches
heights befitting a god, the setting sun's light glinting on the golden plates
embedded in its brow and chest. Great temples sleep in the statue’s
shadow, half-buried by the dunes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rectangular in layout, the walls of the temples are decorated only by
subtle pilasters, giving an impression of streamlined strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trapezoidal doors, flanked by white turquoise-capped
obelisks, lead to sacral chambers unused for centuries. To the front of
the statue are much larger obelisks inscribed with ancient writing, and past
that are broad plazas strewn with sand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We will camp here,” ordered Kulud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Those of you who haven’t been here before, the tomb is safe
as long as you stay on the surface.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All the curses are below ground.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The goblins and gnolls in Kulud’s employ soon set up the white
tents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They worked quickly but
without urgency, untroubled by the crumbling antiquity all around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The abandoned cities of Uldum possess
an airy openness that defuses any sense of dread; the impossible statue seemed
as much our protector as the tomb’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah, Jamet, and I ventured into the tomb complex, walking by the
memories of dead kings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sweeping
desert winds brought an end to the day’s heat, spreading loose sand across the
flagstones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Did the Titans build Khartut’s Tomb?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jamet paused, his amber eyes thoughtful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“In the sense that you mean?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Forgive me if I am in error.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You inquired as to who physically built this place?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Correct.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My ancestors built it to honor Khartut-of-Many-Spears, who brought an
end to Hameth the Jackal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet in
truth, the Titans built it, for we merely followed their techniques, however
imperfectly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How much of Uldum did the Titans make?” asked Daj’yah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Physically, that is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Halls of Origination, the Obelisks of the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars,
and the Temple of Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So too
did They make the underground chambers upon which this place and others were
constructed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The rest is yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Physically, yes, spiritually, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All things emanate from the Titans, for they spoke the first words.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are scores of grand but abandoned cities all through Uldum, at
least from the maps I’ve seen,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Your people physically built them, but no longer live there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We left, because the world forgets the words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rivers dry up, the desert expands, and our memories grow
indistinct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such is the way of the
world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I examined the grand constructions surrounding us, as indomitable as
mountains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still in good condition,
I could see the pock marks left by the wind and the sand, time taking its
inevitable toll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also noted the
hieroglyphs carved onto the stone, the images visible but no longer clean and
clear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Are you able to read the hieroglyphs?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, why would I not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
a scribe,” Jamet answered, his voice rumbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not recognize it as such at the time, but the gravelly
sound is actually tol’vir laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Here, I will read to you the deeds of King Khartut.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We trekked several yards to the base of the magnificent statue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By then, the sun lingered as a dark red
corona on the horizon, its light no longer flashing on ornaments of gold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jamet held up his lantern to the text,
each glyph as big as his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Honor and gifts unto King Khartut-of-Many-Spears, whose wrath and
wisdom brings peace and plenty to Ramkahen!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For Hameth the Jackal comes from the north with the men of
Orsis to fall upon our lands with the hunger of locusts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet when they hear of Khartut’s mighty
deeds they quail and curse their lives, for they are weak against him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under the sun, Khartut’s spears pierce
the Sons of Orsis, and when they see this, they throw down their weapons and
flee.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jamet announced the words
with a showman’s relish, making the occasional pause as he mentally translated
the words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That must have been an incredible sight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, King Khartut was a great man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We often made war with the tol’vir of Orsis, and Khartut
broke their power.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I did notice that you told the story in present tense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is there a reason for this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Again, his throat rumbled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I cannot tell you how I struggled to learn the concept of past
tense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no such thing in
Virtic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How then, would a
reader know this took place in the past?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How would he not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One does
not build a great statue to commemorate a man who is not yet done
fighting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least, not in Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know not the ways of other lands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So one needs to know the context to place it in time?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in a sense, there
is no time, for is not Khartut still battling?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By defeating Hameth, he made all of this possible, so it is
misguided to see the war as past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Orsisi know they are defeated, and will always be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I cannot claim to be any sort of expert on the Virtic language, but I
eventually did learn more about how the tol'vir communicate. As Jamet
said, understanding the larger context is essential. When describing past
events, a tol'vir will preface a sentence by establishing time. For
instance, if an adult tol'vir says: "I am a child, and I play in the
temple gardens," it might translate as "When I was a child, I played
in the temple gardens."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The tol'vir actually have a very sophisticated understanding of
time. Tol'vir astronomers are aware that there are 365 days per
year. Their scribes have also created a dating system that begins with
the arrival of the Titans. Thus, the tol'vir can precisely date the
events of their history; the only real difference is that past events are
described as happening at present. In fact, to refer to Virtic utilizing
only the present tense is inaccurate. There is a past tense; however, it
does not affect verbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Thus, the tol'vir do not suffer from serious confusion when referring to
historical events. More interesting are the philosophical
underpinnings. None deny that history shapes the present, but Virtic
portrays history as a living and inescapable thing. One's actions are
reflected through eternity, for they are partially described as occurring in
perpetuity, even if relegated to a long-past date. As Jamet and others
would explain to me, that the war between Khartut and Hameth happened 4,713
years ago does not change the fact that it is still being fought in an
ineluctable if not literal sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">If the images painted of the place are believed, the lush sanctuary of
Ramkahen City has scarcely changed in its millennia of existence. Wide
paved streets run in straight lines beneath the clear blue sky and lush palms
sway in the wind. Clean geometric precision best describes the city's
architectural style, its block-shaped sandstone houses evenly spaced. The
homes of the rich are not much larger or finer than their neighbors, though some
are topped by pyramidal capstones or boast enclosed gardens where bountiful date
trees nearly spill over the edges. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Great statues of crocodile-headed guardians cast their sightless gaze
across the Vir'naal's deep blue waters, the white sails of reed fishing boats
moving across the surface as steady as clouds. Deeper in the city,
tol'vir merchants gather in bazaars shielded from the sun by tarps of
multicolored cloth suspended between roofs. Fruits, sweet-meats, clay votive
figurines painted in vivid shades, linen shawls, and more compete for space on
simple wooden kiosks. The whole scene conjures descriptions of medieval
Dalaran, then a distant and exotic place in the eyes of superstitious
Lordaeronian travelers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The city's topography slopes upward from the river bank, culminating in
the Seat of Plenty, a combination of temple and palace from which King Phaoris
rules his domain. Made of marble, the Seat of Plenty is an elongated
structure set perpendicular to the roads leading to its gate. Obelisks
stand to each side of trapezoidal gate, and pyramid-crowned towers towards the back
hint at the Seat of Plenty's dimensions. A pitched stone roof runs over
the main sanctuary, with the curious detail of a triangular frontpiece made of
some foggy glass, behind which shines a steady white light visible even at
noon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Flanked by porters bearing chests filled with gifts (fine cloth,
cameras, clocks, and wine), Kulud genuflected to the guards standing at the
Seat of Plenty’s gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carapaces
of polished armor cover the Ramkaheni guards, their faces hidden by bulky
helmets resembling hawk heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>King Phaoris rarely accepts visitors not on official business, so we did
not follow Kulud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">To our surprise, Jamet refrained from entering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He explained that the report would
first go to the office of Vizier Tanotep in the nearby city of Mar’at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“King Phaoris’ rule is unquestioned, for he knows better than anyone
what must be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this
reason, it is vital that he receives wise advice from the High Council.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Who else is on the High Council?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There is High Vizier Tanotep, whom I have mentioned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To him falls the sacred task of
recording and managing the harvest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>High Commander Kamses sees to Uldum’s defense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His heroism in the war against Al’Akir and the Neferset has
made him shine ever brighter in the eyes of the tol’vir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Lastly there is High Priest Amet, who divines correct action in the
ways taught since time immemorial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He also conducts the sacred rites of the Vir’naal River.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How much power does the High Council have?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Each rules his sphere, and can be overridden only by the king.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The king is second only to the gods,
and it is not our place to trouble him except in times of need.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is there ever any disagreement within the High Council?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Men as wise as they rarely disagree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should this happen, the king makes the final decision.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And how are the members of the High Council selected?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The king chooses the Vizier and Commander.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The priesthood follows its own counsel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Jamet then excused himself to announce his return to a local administrator.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Left to our own devices, Daj’yah
and I decided to return to the marketplace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unable to speak Virtic, we contented ourselves with casual
observation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bazaars in most
places tend to be crowded affairs, but the tol’vir give each other a great deal
of space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This habit complements
the city’s roomy dimensions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Much like Jamet, the other tol’vir wear little in the way of
clothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most simply wrap a thick
sash of dyed linen around their waists, sometimes embellished by a copper plate
inscribed with symbols of the wearer’s profession.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few wear additional ornamentation about the shoulders or the
neck, but there is relatively little surface difference between individual
tol’vir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Somewhat later, I learned that the Ramkaheni tend towards a superficial
social egalitarianism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All Ramkaheni
are seen as having their place, and should they fulfill it well, they are
deserving of respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A peasant
will always defer to priest or a scribe, but it is bad form to be openly
contemptuous to someone on a lower social rung.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Women run many of the merchant stands; buying and selling is seen as
something of a feminine trait, though there are some male vendors (who are
usually elderly).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ramkaheni
society is extremely patriarchal, and trade is one of the few occupations that
women are permitted to hold outside of the home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the tol’vir women wear elaborate headdresses from
which hang strings beaded with polished turquoise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such decoration advertises that the wearer is available for
marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Conversation in the marketplace is steady but quiet, the sound making the
city feel full of endlessly purring cats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Ramkaheni tend to be reserved, though public displays of strong
emotion are acceptable in certain venues (holidays, funerals, and so
forth).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah went to purchase some figs at a stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To her surprise, she could buy three of them with a single
copper coin (fruits of any kind cost at least two coppers a piece in Orgrimmar).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily, she took them and gave one to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eating it, my dried tongue
searched for flavor, sampling the memory of sweetness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Strange it’d be so cheap,” she commented.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve heard there are
fig orchards along the river.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sure, but these tol’vir are looking a bit ragged, no?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If food’s cheap, they shouldn’t be so
scrawny.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The tol’vir in the marketplace do look gaunt, at least compared to the
royal guards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then again, royal
guards are seldom the physical norm for their societies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, I started to notice the ribs
visible beneath faded fur and the hairless spots running up tired legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We retired to Bed of Reeds, a rambling two-story structure near
Ramkahen’s eastern gate where Kulud had told us to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Built only a year before our visit, Bed
of Reeds caters exclusively to foreign visitors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hospitality is a cardinal virtue among the tol’vir;
travelers prior to the Cataclysm could be assured of finding shelter in the
home of even the poorest resident if they so asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though this courtesy is still extended to the Ramkaheni, the
natives are a bit less comfortable giving succor to aliens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A wide door, open at all hours, keeps the air circulating in the grand
parlor room where visitors stretch out on plush cushions spread around low and
circular acacia tables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bright
murals of regal tol’vir at work and play parade along the smooth tan
walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oil fires burn in
cobra-girdled stone braziers raised nearly to the ceiling, the guttering light
creating the illusion of movement in painted limbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The inn’s proprietor, a tol’vir able to speak proficient Orcish, ushered
us to one of the tables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bundles
of cedar sticks placed around a central oil lamp tried (without much success)
to counteract the riotous smell of sweat, smoke, and all manner of foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four Sin’dorei lounged at the table; I
half-expected them to look down at our arrival, but one, his scarlet hair cut
scrupulously short, stood and offered a slight bow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he did, the other elves got to their feet and did the
same, as Daj’yah and I returned the gesture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Welcome, noble scions of House Windrunner and the Darkspear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is as always an honor to see
relatively familiar faces in this beautiful but distant land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am Avaeron Spellstar, second sun of
Great House Spellstar, and a member of the Reliquary.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The honor is mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
Destron Allicant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And I, Daj’yah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We sat back down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A serving
woman came by and placed enormous mugs of frothy beer on the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“When it comes to loving a good brew, I think the dwarves may have at
last found their rivals among the tol’vir,” laughed Avaeron.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I smiled and took a draught, not really able to notice the taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The texture was thick and almost
grainy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Please tell me of Great House Spellstar; I have heard many impressive
things,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In truth, I had
never heard of it at all, but wished to avoid causing offense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m surprised you know about us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are a new Great House.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My sockets widened in surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Sin’dorei take lineage and loyalty to an art form.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the Great Houses perished
during the Third War, but their retainers kept alive the memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d never imagined that the Sin’dorei
would so soon allow new Great Houses to arise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I understand your astonishment,” he continued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This decision was not without
controversy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end, necessity
gave us no choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too much of our
land lacked governance; for a while, Silvermoon attempted to administer all
parts of the realm directly, but this became harder to do, especially after the
unfortunate events in Outland.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Kael’thas Sunstrider, once called the Sun King, had used the destruction
of so many Great Houses to consolidate his regime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With this done, he gave temporary authority to Regent
Lor’themar Theron and vanished to Outland where his soul embraced demonic
corruption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he returned with
an army of fiends to reclaim Quel’thalas, Horde and Alliance alike took him
down for good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even after all
this, the Sin’dorei consider it bad form to directly criticize Kael’thas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Who made this decision?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Lor’themar Theron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great
House Sunstrider’s line tragically ended with the Sun King’s illness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As such, House Theron assumed ruling
duties and became a de facto Great House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With Great House Theron paving the way, Lor’themar chose other houses to
follow suit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did Great House
Spellstar come to be chosen?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“For centuries we served as retainers to Great House Goldenmist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ellyurian Goldenmist protected my
esteemed ancestor, Dellis Spellstar, during the retreat from Kalimdor and we
have never forgotten this noble deed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet Goldenmist is no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because my family aided Lor’theron in confirming his reign, he
determined that we should take the place of Great House Goldenmist and rule
over the eponymous territory in the Ghostlands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, Goldenmist Village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is now Spellstar Village, I take it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron’s face darkened, but only for a moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should say not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never
will the name of the land change, for we can never forget the familial name of
he who guided us to that land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
we assume the legal and administrative obligations of Great House Goldenmist.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Impressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you
contribute through the Reliquary?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Reliquary initially focused on protecting and maintaining artifacts
that the Sin’dorei had taken with them on their exile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have undergone a dramatic
expansion in recent years, becoming the Horde’s under-budgeted equivalent of
the dwarven Explorer’s League.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As best I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am one of
the less experienced scholars in Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is truly an honor to my family that I be allowed here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"If it's not impertinent of me to ask, how are the other Sin'dorei
reacting to this change?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"There are as many answers to that as there are Sin'dorei.
For the most part, my kindred are willing to accept this."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Would you say that Quel'thalas is more accepting of change after
the Sun King's departure?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Again, it varies. You have to remember that over the past
several years we lost our kingdom, lost the Sunwell, embraced diabolism, joined
the Horde, endured a civil war, and at last had the Sunwell returned to us
thanks to the people we had been attempting to kill or enslave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"No one is entirely certain what to think right now. Some
cling all the more strongly to old beliefs, while others are reexamining their
places in the world. So much rapid change is unprecedented, but hardly
unique to Quel'thalas. The Darkspear Tribe and Lordaeron have both
weathered similarly dramatic upheavals."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Things have been strange," said Daj'yah. "I still
remember when I was a girl, the islands being my whole world. Then
everything changed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Indeed. Your people made remarkable achievements, especially
in Stranglethorn."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Ah, but we lost most of that after the Cataclysm," she
sighed, taking a sip of her beer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I am sure the Darkspear will regain it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Sure, but maybe the Loa are having a laugh at us. The world
makes fools of us all, yeah?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"One can never hope to accurately predict the course of
events. Yet certain traits and institutions in groups or individuals
arise over time. From my perspective, the Darkspear possess leadership
qualities— forgive me, I do not mean to sound presumptuous. I should note
that my knowledge of the Darkspear is gleaned mostly from secondhand
reports."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I can tell, but I'll say I'm impressed that an elf knows anything
about us."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">One of the retainers frowned, but Avaeron laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"This is the time to look beyond Quel'thalas' old borders.
The forest trolls are in decline. So are the jungle tribes.
Zul'drak is in ruins, and Zul'farrak is barely hanging on. Surely you
would agree that your tribe has leadership potential?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"So you are thinking of making us Great House Darkspear?"
laughed Daj'yah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Sadly, the choice is not mine, but I would be honored to have some
of your people as guests."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj'yah blinked, and then forced a quick laugh. Perhaps sensing
that his statement had been off-target, Avaeron blushed. After an awkward
pause, we turned the conversation to more mundane matters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We spent a week in Ramkahen, half-walking half-drowsing beneath the
golden desert sun. The tol’vir take an almost obsessive interest in
beautifying their city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
residents of every household devote the early morning hours to cleaning both
their domicile and the streets immediately outside of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As parents and children set to work
with brooms and washcloths, they sing in low and roaring voices that rise up
from every street and square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
obligation is religious, not legal, in nature. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A family home in Ramkahen City is a cherished possession, handed down
through the generations since time immemorial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Families may only move out from the city with a special
dispensation from the local government.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Likewise, children are expected to follow the trades of their parents,
though choice of profession is a bit more flexible than housing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I also learned why Daj'yah's copper piece had purchased so many
figs. Ramkaheni coins, or drachma, are small and almost paper-thin, using
far less metal than coins from the outside world. As such, a single
Azerothian copper piece is worth three copper drachmas when based on weight
alone. Yet Azerothian coins also tend to be mixed with baser metals, so
the actual value is closer to two copper drachmas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Unfortunately, Ramkaheni sellers are not used to measuring purity, and
end up cheating themselves in transactions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In general, street vendors are unable to make much of a
profit; Ramkaheni society is extremely conservative and discourages wealth
accumulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ideal is that
everyone will have enough if they stick to their societal roles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I gradually learned, however, the
limited resources of Uldum have made this security difficult to maintain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">This information came from the money-changer, a tol'vir who spoke
reasonable Orcish and Common. She told us not to worry about the issue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"These traders hoard up the outside coins, like misers. They
will be fine."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I imagine that the heavy influx of valuable metals will have an inflationary
effect on Ramkahen’s (and by extension, Uldum’s) economy. This will be
compounded if the Ramkaheni begin to adulterate the drachma.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron sometimes joined our tours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was on his second visit to Uldum; his first had occurred
during the height of the chaos, when air elementals and foreign brigands
wreaked havoc in the ancient landscape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d stayed to help the Ramkaheni defend their cities from the Neferseti,
though his retainers had begged him to go back home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The honor of my House rests on my actions; so too does the honor of the
Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not, in good
conscience, leave,” he said by way of explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">He finally went back to Quel’thalas after the fall of Neferset City,
mostly to inform other Sin’dorei of recent events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Avaeron returned to Uldum as soon as he was able, and
planned to reconvene with the Reliquary at their headquarters in the city of
Mar’at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You may both accompany me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Though the Reliquary is a Sin’dorei organization, we welcome all the
other Horde races, particularly those of a scholarly bent.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We accepted his offer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">On our last day, Daj'yah and I sat at the steps overlooking the port,
the morning sun scorching though still some ways from its zenith. Reed
boats trawled the waters, distance making them as small and neat as the
colorful frescoes that decorate the walls of riverside homes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"What do you make of Avaeron?" I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"He's better than most elves I've met. Maybe he doesn’t
understand as much as he thinks, but who really does?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I looked around at the ancient city, bright and new through my vision.
So too did it look back into me, an alien in its walls, a small part of an
incoming flood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Our tent bore all the hallmarks of Sin’dorei luxury, the scarlet cloth
bright and densely woven, golden filigrees running along the edges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two beds with silk sheets and chests of
polished mahogany had been given for our use, along with a bottle containing
wine of respectable vintage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Forgive me if the accommodations do not meet your expectations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our resources are still limited in
Uldum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not at all, this is quite luxurious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you, Avaeron,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Nice, sure, but do you have a longer bed by any chance?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t fit on this little thing,” said
Daj’yah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My apologies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not
think the Reliquary has any dedicated carpenters, but I may—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It’s fine, I’ll manage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can use a stool to prop up my feet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Very good, you trolls are certainly resourceful!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, if you’ll pardon me, there is some
Reliquary business to which I must attend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron bowed before turning and walking into the shaded peristyle
surrounding the courtyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
garden of Brightblade Hall is a fine place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flagstone paths meander between royal palms, thick ferns unfurling
in the shade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Water pours from the
open jaws of four sleek lion heads carved around a sandstone fountain in the
center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Riverside scenes painted in
green and turquoise decorate the walls and square pillars. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Standing at the southern edge of the city of Mar’at, Brightblade Hall is
the headquarters of the Reliquary in Uldum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the opposite side of the town, Harrison Hall serves in
the same capacity for the Explorer’s League.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both structures had been built to honor the aid given by the
Horde and the Alliance during the Neferset War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fearing undue foreign influence in the royal court, King
Phaoris had decreed that they be built somewhere other than Ramkahen City.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Now it is the Steamwheedle Cartel that is King Phaoris’ main foreign
contact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A clever move, perhaps;
cartel support may allow Uldum to maintain neutrality,” Avaeron had said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Avaeron helped us settle into Reliquary life over the next few
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Reliquary’s access to
Uldum’s ancient sites is quite limited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now that Ramkahen is in a more secure position, King Phaoris is able to
prohibit most exploration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Expeditions
into the Titan ruins also risk provoking the nomadic Orsisi tribes, who see the
ruins as sacred.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“While regrettable, his decision is understandable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Reliquary’s interest is in
artifacts of power, and it is in King Phaoris’ interest to keep such artifacts,
even if he cannot use them,” explained Avaeron.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why can’t he use them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The tol’vir are not very inquisitive in regards to their past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are reasons for this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you familiar with the Coffer of
Promise?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I know it was some ancient Titan device.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, one capable of wiping out all life on Azeroth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A paramilitary group associated with
the Twilight’s Hammer attempted to seize it; only the timely intervention of
the Explorer’s League prevented extinction.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I had no idea!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not much news escapes here, and we had no wish to spark a panic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can see, I am sure, why King
Phaoris is reluctant to allow such things into the hands of outsiders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Explorer’s League has more leeway
than does the Reliquary, largely due to their instrumental part in saving the
world, and even they face many obstacles,” he chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So King Phaoris favors the Alliance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“His actual opinion is uncertain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The High Council is divided; Vizier Tanotep prefers the Alliance, but
High Commander Kamses is sympathetic to the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Horde agents, after all, who spearheaded the assault
on Neferset and eventually brought an end to Al’akir, the Windlord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What of the high priest?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He is undecided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes
I wonder if he does that from some perverse fondness for neutrality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Regardless, the Reliquary is somewhat
distrusted because our goals are explicitly aligned with the state of
Quel’thalas, and by extension, the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Explorer’s League is better at convincing people that they are not
partisan; they only want to learn of their histories, after all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m surprised that the Reliquary would be so open about its aims.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We seek to assure the security of Quel’thalas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also believe that understanding and
utilizing these artifacts will be to Uldum’s benefit; the Reliquary will share
most of its findings with the royal court.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uldum is fading, their great cities falling into the sand. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d hate for this land meet the same
fate as Zul’gurub and Zul’aman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I suppose that’s a relatively altruistic attitude to take.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I saw the greatest civilization on Azeroth plunged into chaos and led
astray into darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not
want to see it happen to anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Uldum is less secure than it looks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, my loyalty is to Quel’thalas, and if I must sacrifice
Uldum for my liege, so be it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, I believe my efforts can help both groups.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Much of the work in Brightblade Hall consists of translating the
hieroglyphs found in Uldum’s innumerable ruins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enterprising Horde agents had recorded these words in
etchings and in photographs during the excavations conducted at the height of
the Neferset War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
frustrating work at the best of times, the tiny fragments of data never really
fitting together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the
Reliquary’s hope that scholars will be able to glean meaningful information
about powerful Titan devices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Drm4VBjBk54/UUO7WfPJF4I/AAAAAAAACYI/vN9XIKLK8G0/s1600/Treasures+of+Brightblade+Hall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Drm4VBjBk54/UUO7WfPJF4I/AAAAAAAACYI/vN9XIKLK8G0/s400/Treasures+of+Brightblade+Hall.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">King Phaoris had assigned several experienced scribes to aid the
Reliquary (and the Explorer’s League) in translation, but many of the Sin’dorei
distrust them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is the
general belief that for all their polite service, the scribes are withholding
vital information.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Not knowing Virtic, Daj’yah and I were unable to directly translate the
retrieved tol’vir documents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
we could do was compile and edit the reports made by Reliquary officials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all of the translators have the
best command of Orcish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though
Daj’yah speaks with an accent, her writing is flawless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The elves whose work I edited tended to be courteous but aloof,
generally acknowledging my efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some were almost genial, or cited their own family’s past friendship
with House Windrunner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah,
however, faced a more daunting task.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A researcher stormed past my desk a few days after our arrival, his jaws
set and eyes blazing, gripping a crumpled scroll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I barely paid him any attention until I heard the angry
whispers exchanged with Avaeron, who had been studying Virtic records at the
other side of the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only then
did Daj’yah enter, following the path led by the enraged researcher, a look of
bored irritation on her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The researcher’s tone went from furious to one of restrained concern in
nearly an instant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned to
look at Daj’yah, offering a slight bow and a cold smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Avaeron sighed, gritting his teeth
before speaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Lady Daj’yah!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belsamar was
just informing me of the progress you two have made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, after some deliberation, I think that Belsamar’s
findings need to be placed at a higher level of security, one that I fear you
do not yet meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rest assured, I
will find more work for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You know, you can just tell me what Belsamar really said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told me just fine,” said Daj’yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Belsamar is proud to serve both the Reliquary and his lineage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His opinion does not factor into this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I should say not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My duty
is my life,” affirmed Belsamar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Already suspecting what had happened, I talked to Daj’yah about it that
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She laughed when I brought
it up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“These elves!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can’t stand
that a troll knows more about something than they do!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What did Belsamar’s work actually involve?”<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Uldum’s climate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very
important for Horde security, yeah?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You should tell Avaeron more about this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“He knows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing he can
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the elves here are all
right, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just a few
that don’t want to work with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A week and a half passed by in relative contentment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I grew increasingly frustrated
by how little I knew about the tol’vir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of the translations I read dealt with obscure Titan lore, only
hinting at the tol’vir themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Avaeron suggested that I visit the Vir’naal Dam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though seemingly utilitarian in
purpose, the dam is also the site of the holiest tol’vir temple, and the office
of High Priest Amet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Some of the priests are actually quite willing to speak with outsiders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of the High Council, the priesthood
seems most interested in the outside world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bit surprising.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why do you think that is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My personal opinion?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
in shock that the rest of the world even exists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scribes tend to focus on the purely material, but the
priests are the closest that Ramkahen has to philosophers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure there are many other factors
as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ll be happy to share
their wisdom with you, though they will also ask you to tell them about the
outside world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This could be rather sensitive, then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I think you’re a fine fit for the task, Destron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re very inoffensive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah and I were only obligated to help the Reliquary so long as we
stayed in their headquarters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
such, I left to visit the Vir’naal Dam, several days to the south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tired of traveling, Daj’yah declined to
join me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vjrVoc3WW58/UUO7V2BTKXI/AAAAAAAACX0/u8tRWBlig7w/s1600/Mar%2527at.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vjrVoc3WW58/UUO7V2BTKXI/AAAAAAAACX0/u8tRWBlig7w/s400/Mar%2527at.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564585184157117409.post-40926754044868037912013-02-28T19:33:00.001-08:002013-03-02T17:43:12.507-08:00The South Kalimdor Trade Zone<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I watched in childlike amazement, imagining the wind whooshing past my
own body as the glider dipped into a steep plunge, hurtling towards the
ever-churning sea of the Thousand Needles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The craft kept falling, the broad delta wing getting smaller
as it plummeted between enormous stone pillars, each the size of a mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knelt on the rock, too enraptured to
feel any vertigo, seeing the glider’s prow begin to level out as a spear stabbed
from its underbelly and into the drink to pull out silver that writhed in the
sun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Controlled gusts from the spirits lifted the wing, the glider making
slow circles up the mesa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he
brought the glider back up to eye level I saw the light flashing against the
scales of the great fish still twisting on the speartip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Waves had touched the cliff tops in ancient days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time had boiled away the waters,
leaving behind the parched canyon known as the Thousand Needles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A place of mysteries and portents, the
grand rock spires offered a glimpse into the supernatural, a realm too harsh
and strange to be tamed by mortal hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The following millennia saw nomadic tauren fighting harpies and centaurs
for control of this difficult land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Where the tribes of the north suffered a constant retreat, the Needles
tribes saw their early victories give them a powerful (though always contested)
advantage over their foes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
became confident and even impetuous (at least by tauren standards), taking
family names over tribal names, always ready to prove themselves to the unforgiving
world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Today, the consuming sea has reclaimed the Thousand Needles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deathwing’s rampage broke the eastern
shelf, leaving nothing between the desert and the immensity of the Great
Ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tons of water surged across
the landscape as an environment built over eons perished in a few hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ocean’s fury even hit Feralas, a
colossal tidal wave wiping out leagues of eastern forest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In some respects, the Needles tauren were fortunate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three tribes had been gathered at
the mesa-top village of Freewind Post at the time of the Cataclysm, moved by
the need to discuss the political uncertainty in Thunder Bluff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Survivors said that the entire mesa
shook, and that none could hear their own prayers over the crashing water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When it finished and the sea leveled
out, the tauren confronted an alien landscape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The children and the elders fled to Feralas on the Horde’s makeshift
refugee flotilla but the braves and younger shamans stood their ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The xenophobic Grimtotem Tribe had tried
to seize the Thousand Needles in the wake of the Cataclysm, but the Needles
tauren would not give up their lands so easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warriors dueled with spear and rifle all along the lonely
mesa tops, dreams and visions guiding them to strike their foes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At last the Grimtotem fell back, still
in the Thousand Needles but unable to rule it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Kewhana’s gyrocopter took three days to make the journey from Firestone
Point to Freewind Post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My joke
had become a reality; the only way for me to join them was to be strapped to
the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though awkward, it was
the most logical means for me to travel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think Daj’yah was more bothered by it than was I, though I’ll admit
feeling no small relief when we landed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I remembered the Thousand Needles as a place of cruel heat and endless
silence, the emptiness between the mesas speaking in a voice of absence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The silence is no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now there is the constant crash of
waves against the stone, the cold ocean winds and the cries of seabirds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Sleep once seemed so easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To close one’s eyes and dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is no longer as hard as it was after the flood, but the noise is most
unwelcome.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I spoke with a hunter named Hotoma Stonetotem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d first met him years ago in the western Needles as he
underwent his rite of passage into adulthood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forbidden from speaking at the time, his guide, Moshoc Blackhoof,
had done all of the talking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Moshoc had perished in the fight against the Twilight’s Hammer, as had
Tomo Stonetotem, Hotoma’s older brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still young by tauren standards, Hotoma looked much older.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Will the Needles tribes return here in large numbers?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We hope, for this is the home of our ancestors. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Food is actually more common now, for the
waters bring many fish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we are
accustomed to red meat and we lost all of our herds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How are the tribes dealing with that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We once honored those who cared for the herds, and their voices carried
worth in meetings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now they speak
like frightened children, their identities no more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In the participatory democracy of the Needles tribes, every person has
at least one vote.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those who are
accomplished in hunting, child-rearing, kodo-herding, or other esteemed fields
can accrue multiple votes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Did the herders lose their extra votes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, for nothing can erase the care and wisdom they showed in the
past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the greatest in our
tribes left, as this land is now much crueler to the aged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those of us who stayed have become like
heroes, but guidance is often hard to find.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There are no elders?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A few stayed, but all are dead, killed by the cultists or the Grimtotems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We must be more like the Cliff Runner
than ever before,” he said, referring to the warrior-trickster of Needles lore,
“if we are too honor our ancestors.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What about fresh water?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How do you obtain that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“However we can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
goblins and gnomes to the east can pluck the salt from seawater, but they
charge a high price for it, not from greed, but because they need it too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few of the cliff-side springs remain,
though their use must be rationed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Horde ships in water when it is able.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other method you may see tomorrow, or even tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Later that day, I saw all the tauren placing wide-mouthed clay pots and
bowls out in the open, limiting me to the narrow paths between the myriad
containers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even saw a few empty
oil drums set up in the center, totems favoring the spirits dangling from the
rim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The storm broke early the next morning, delivering rain so fierce that
it seemed almost like a column of water pouring onto Freewind Post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joyous cries leapt out from the tents
and cabins, audible over nature’s fury.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The tauren picked up the flooded bowls and poured the contents into
reservoirs beneath the large central tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah and I helped out, she faring rather better than me
as my spindly arms struggled with the weight of so much water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Upon filling the reservoirs to capacity, the tauren broke into an
impromptu celebration, their senior shaman running to the center of the village
in the pouring rain, laughing as he chanted an ode of thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others brought out the drums, giving
structure to a dance already rhythmic from years of practice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The celebration lasted until it evening, the still-clouded skies growing
dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their bodies hot with
exhaustion, the tauren settled down to rest for the next day’s labors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had enough preserves with which to
regain their energy and insisted that Daj’yah and I take our share, though we
could conjure our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The spirits
are known to reward generosity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">At last, under intermittent rain, the village slept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waking early in a sort of giddy
communal weariness they sang to prepare themselves for a new day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that there are no immediate threats
to Freewind Post, the tauren focus on trying to more firmly establish their
settlement (and hopefully allow the refugees to return). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The swoop-fishing I’d seen on my first day, though spectacular, is not
the tribes’ primary method of gathering food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tauren use fishing canoes made out of wood culled from
the sparse forests along the northern shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The waters in the Thousand Needles are treacherous at the
best of times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s easy for a
vessel to get caught in a wave that dashes it against a mesa, and waterspouts
can form with little warning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fortunately, the waters around Freewind Post are relatively sedate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The constant current always brings new
fish within reach, decreasing the likelihood of overfishing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The gliders’ main purpose is military.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The late shaman Pemmachek Dryhorn had promised to drive the
Twilight’s Hammer from the Thousand Needles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In return, the wind spirits had pledged to protect the
gliders, giving the pilot a level of control that would be impossible under
normal circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Though the Hammer is gone, the wind spirits continue their support out
of gratitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under their
protection, the glider pilots rule the skies and continue to watch for hostile
incursions from the Grimtotems or the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The glider pilots sometimes spear the great <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nononka</i> fish when those creatures
venture too close to the surface, but they usually leave that to the
anglers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Swoop-fishing is done for
training purposes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Gliders are also how the Needles tribes maintain communication with
their kindred in Feralas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
great forest hosts another front in the war, one where orcs and tauren battle
the Kaldorei beneath primeval boughs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Needles tauren who had seen the war described it as one of unremitting
savagery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For all their
connections to the natural world, the Kaldorei are less familiar with Feralas
than they are with Ashenvale, while the local tauren hunters know every secret
path and overlook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">However, the Feralas front is also the least supported of the Horde’s
efforts in Kalimdor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sophisticated
weapons are promised but never delivered, and the soldiers must fight a
primitive campaign of ax and arrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Feralas tribes are reluctant to move against the elves, having had
no quarrel with them in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Indeed, a short-lived peace treaty had existed between the sentinels of
Feathermoon and the forest peoples prior to the Cataclysm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Needles tauren who have remained in their homeland have become
masters of improvisation, and not just for base survival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the elders still in Camp Mojache,
the younger tauren have led the remnants through some of the worst of the
Cataclysm’s tribulations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Helping
them in this is an older orcish shaman named Meklu’mor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scars crisscross his scalp like hairs,
but his fearsome appearance belies a friendlier soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am honored to fight alongside these braves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have displayed an incredible spirit, one that would put
many of my own people to shame,” said Meklu’mor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I asked him, somewhat obliquely, about the Horde’s long-term plans in
the region.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“To help the Needles tribes stand strong once more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the Alliance tries to encircle us,
they will meet the spears of the Horde’s bravest warriors!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day we hope to reconnect with the
Southern Barrens, but I cannot yet ask the tribes to make war on the
quilboar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have lost too
many.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think that Freewind Post will be able to support the full
population of the Needles tribes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That… is a complicated question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Freewind Post will not, but there are still many springs on the southern
and northern shelves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quilboar and
centaurs rule the north, and Alliance partisans roam the south.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What about the remaining Grimtotem?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They must have a water supply.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes, but they are even fewer than the remaining Needles tauren; their
stores will help, but will not be sufficient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a stark and beautiful land, one that any orc can
love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We crave these elemental
challenges, and I think the Shu’halo are the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the Horde does not care about the
Thousand Needles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What few resources this land possessed are now drowned beneath the
sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor is it worth anything to
the war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Battle rages in Feralas,
and if we lose the forests, the Alliance will simply fly over the Thousand
Needles to attack the Southern Barrens.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Could the gliders prevent that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’d be grand thing
to see!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they cannot inflict
enough damage, and are too few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are only five gliders in the Thousand Needles, Destron. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would best serve the Horde if the
Needles tribes abandoned their homes and went west to Feralas, to do battle
against the elves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But these
people have forged lives here in the most daunting circumstances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even after the Cataclysm they
survived!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do you think the Horde will force the issue?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I do not know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The orcs in
Feralas are dissatisfied with the forest tribes and long to see the warriors of
the Thousand Needles in action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And these tauren would be glad to participate, but they wish to rebuild
their homeland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they leave, the
remaining Grimtotem, though few, would soon move in to take their place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the Horde cannot protect the
homelands of its people, what good is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I can never go against my warchief, but neither can I betray those who
are my brothers and sisters in battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If we could secure the Thousand Needles and use it to support Feralas,
it might be worthwhile, but there are so few warriors left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hope is that more partisans will
seek glory among the mesas, and help this land’s rightful masters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I mulled over the term “rightful masters.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uneasily, I again wondered who really had the right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tauren legends claim that they fled to
the Thousand Needles, but who can really say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then again, who am I to doubt the tauren?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The quilboar have persecuted the tauren
without relent, just as the Forsaken have persecuted humanity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If the Thousand Needles are reclaimed, and all the Needles tribes
returned, would that not weaken the Feralas front?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Needles tauren are
not craven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They understand what
is at stake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anything, more
would be willing to fight in Feralas if the Needles was safe; some have told me
so themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if we cannot
control this place, the warchief will wonder why we are here, and I will have
no answer worth hearing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Before leaving Freewind Post, I spoke with one of the Earthen Ring
shamans charged with investigating the Twilight's Hammer. A northern
Tauren named Wellehek Ragetotem, he explained that their findings had been
limited at best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Elementium is pain to the spirits. Instead, we seek answers
from the ancestors, who speak to us in dreams."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Wellehek and his companion had created a dreaming circle at the edge of
the encampment. After four nights, Wellehek's visions had brought him to
conclusions similar to those reached by the Cenarion Circle. He did
mention one other detail that stuck out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"I see them as a thousand minds and bodies distorted beyond
recognition, warriors who see through the eyes of others. They are false,
but I do not know how or why."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Wellehek had been forced to retreat after spotting an armed patrol of
five Alliance partisans on the eastern ridges overlooking the Twilight's Hammer
base. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their location suggested
that they had come from Gadgetzan or the Speedbarge. Daj'yah and I would
need to be careful in those places.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Drying out in the glare of the blistering sun, I looked down on the
oceanic desert speeding below us, the mesas sinking from sight. I wished
that the propeller over my head were a parasol of some kind, though I did not
yet feel any pain from the heat. Tied to the side as I was, my feet on
the rail, I could only endure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Destron, are you all right?" shouted Daj'yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Quite fine. I've been on enough flying machines that riding one in
the normal fashion would feel a bit passé. This is much more
interesting."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Ha! Still, I don't like it. Here." Daj'yah
reached back with her left hand, which held a canteen of water. I took it
with my free arm and brought it to my dead lips, the water hot and flat.
The undead are resistant to extreme heat but we still require hydration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We flew over what had once been called the Shimmering Flats, a vast and
unforgiving salt desert. A hardy band of misfits, mostly gnomes and
goblins, had dwelt there in a site called the Mirage Raceway where they
experimented on new engines and vehicles with gleeful abandon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Drowned like the rest of the Thousand Needles, the waters of the new
Shimmering Deep are a brighter blue than the surrounding sea thanks to the
higher salinity. Defying fate, the inhabitants of the Mirage Raceway
survived and regrouped on Fizzle and Pozzick's Speedbarge, a city of boats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Kwehana hollered from the cockpit a few hours later and I craned my neck
to see ahead of us a dizzying network of ships and gangways, arranged like a
berserk spider web. A shell of smog encapsulated the floating city,
tendrils of grease creeping out into the water. The heart of this mad
assembly is the eponymous vessel, a wood-and-metal hulk five times the size of
its neighbors. Buildings in the gnomish and goblin styles grow on the hull
like barnacles, shadowed by a dented crown of towers and smokestacks upon the
aft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Lowering the gyrocopter, Kwehana flew to the makeshift boats bobbing off
the speedbarge's starboard, the propellers slowing over a square metal platform
tethered to a battered tramp steamer. The platform pitched and swayed
under our weight, but Kwehana landed with laudable skill. Daj'yah
immediately went about untying me, and I took my first step onto the
speedbarge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I almost savored the familiar smell of urban goblin life, the sea's
briny essence soured by smog and burnt rubbish. Lean goblins, skins like
green leather, observed us from the steamer's deck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"You have not been here before, so you should walk carefully,"
said Kwehana, his tone relaxed but cautionary. "The Horde and the
Alliance both seek dominance in this place, their battle waged with words
instead of spears."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"How long will we be here?" asked Daj'yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"No more than a day. I wish to sleep before the last leg of
our journey. Fuel should not be hard to get. Come, follow me to the
main ship."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The speedbarge suburbs are site of constant activity. Goblin junk
merchants jump out from leaking boats to sell their wares, their voices cracked
by the heat. Squat towers of floating cargo harbor entire families who
work with all the mad energy they can muster. Bowls and basins gasp on
rooftops, awaiting rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"How did they put all this together?" wondered Daj'yah.
"They must have had some warning about the Cataclysm."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"Indeed they did, in a most strange way,” said Kwehana.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“When I was in Northrend, I learned how
the shamans of the taunka saw darkness in the future of Azeroth, of evil
roiling beneath the earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of
these shamans, afflicted by visions, wandered south after the Lich King’s fall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Somehow he found himself here and warned the people of the Mirage
Raceway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fizzle Brassbolts, the
gnome, believed him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pozzick, the
goblin, figured he could build a boat and charge the believers for entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They worked together to build the
monstrosity you see before you (though it was much smaller in those
days). When the eastern shelf collapsed, the inhabitants of the Mirage
Raceway found safety in its hull."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"What happened to this taunka?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">"He drifted farther south after the Cataclysm. None here know
what became of him."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Maybe they should name it after him instead of Fizzle and Pozzick,”
remarked Daj’yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A wide but precarious walkway leads up to the speedbarge’s main deck,
the smell of smoke and sun-cooked trash reeking worse with each step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the deck, unstable-looking ramps
wind around makeshift houses to reach the factory citadels perched on the
aft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fore resembles a plain of
dirty multi-colored cloth, tents and huts fighting for space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Words more spat than spoken shot through the hot air, dozens of
diminutive inhabitants going about their lives, casting hard glances at anyone
from the opposite faction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
expected that the gnomes and goblins of all races would be best able to avoid
the reflexive hostility so common to this day and age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I must speak to Pozzick about getting fuel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a selfish man, and will charge more than it is worth,
so I will haggle with him as best I can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah had given Kwehana much of the discretionary money given to her
by Elazzi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fuel is expensive, and
Kwehana had gone far out of his way to help us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Freewind Post, Daj’yah had promised to speak to the
Darkbriar Lodge on behalf of the Needles tribes, should they require help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“They’re not much trusting us wizards, but when times are hard…” she’d
explained to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Kwehana made his way up one of the ramps, towards a collection of
corrugated metal huts decorated with garish signs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah and I stood on the noisy deck, uncomfortably tall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So what do you usually do in this situation, Destron?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I look for someone willing to talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe some shade as well.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We stepped through a nearby bulkhead, Daj’yah’s tall frame forcing her
to duck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard her curse once
inside, the cramped hallway twice as hot as the exterior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A solitary electrical lamp hanging from
a pair of wires let out a grinding buzz, as if in warning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Can you get in?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not thinking
they get many visitors who aren’t their size here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Something whooshed through the air ahead of me, crashing into the wall
with a resounding clang that vibrated up and down the corridor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I drew back in alarm, only to see a sun
burnt gnome poke his head out of an uneven crevice to my right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Get out of here, Horde!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I raised my hands in supplication, backtracking out to the deck where
Daj’yah had already retreated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I think it’s best to stay to the goblin-held parts of the ship,” I
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Gnomes aren’t very friendly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“On the contrary, of all the Alliance races, they’re easily the most
tolerant to the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only
assume that things have gotten very tense here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">A while later, we found a teeming goblin mob lined up in front of a
battered metal tank surrounded by the towering constructions on the aft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Armed gnomes and goblins stood around
the tank, looking back and forth between each other and the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Herded into some semblance of a line
closer to the tank, each goblin came forward with a container or skin, which
one of the guards would then place under a spigot to fill with water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“This rationing is decidedly un-goblin,” complained a reedy voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The speaker was a goblin, spindly from
poor nutrition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His skinny arms
hugged a tiny metal keg, obviously full by the way his limbs drooped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Where does this water come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The desalination plant that takes up half this ship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a marvel of engineering,
especially considering how little we had to work with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m more into marketing than tinkering,
but I know it has something to do with boiling water and letting it condense
again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Does that demand a lot of energy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“It sure—say, how about we make a deal?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not the biggest guy around, and some of the gnomes have
been real mean lately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the
goblins too, come to think of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How about you and your friend walk me back to my house, and I’ll tell
you everything you want to know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I looked to Daj’yah, who shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That sounds fair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Great, my name is Muzgo Lagwroggle, formerly of the Steamwheedle
Cartel.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah and I followed Muzgo into tunnel coiling down into the lower depths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw no signs of hostility, but
perhaps I didn’t know how to look for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our footsteps boomed down the tiny corridor, the steps
scuffed and worn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard Daj’yah
struggling to breath in the stultifying heat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Are you all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m a troll, I’m tough,” she said, an edge of annoyance in her
voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The hallway abruptly opened out into a wide but low-ceilinged room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A small crowd of gnomes sat at tables, most
no more than repurposed crates, taking swigs from water-holders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A human woman, incongruous by her size,
stood behind a bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dusty shelves
carrying a few bottles of rum lined the wall behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The gnomes get their water first; some of them come down here to drink
it, and like to give little surprises to goblins just looking to enjoy their
water in peace!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Muzgo lived in a tiny room not far past the bar, nearly every inch of
available space taken up with a seemingly random assemblage of machines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He grimaced when Daj’yah and I stepped
inside, forcing him into the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Wow, pretty cramped in here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No matter, no matter… you’re not staying here for long, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Just a day or so,” I said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Legally, anyone who
isn’t a goblin or gnome isn’t allowed to be here for more than three days.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Why not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Big folk drink too much water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mages are the exception, though Pozzick doesn’t like that they can
conjure water; he’s worried it’ll cut into his profits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think Fizzle finally explained that a
wizard can only make enough for himself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“We are mages, in fact.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know, since
you’re Forsaken, you won’t need as much water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could make a pretty penny selling it—oh, what am I
doing, giving away ideas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forget I
said that!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Like I said, we won’t be staying long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So how do you keep the desalination plant running?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a huge field
on the northern shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Used to be
some centaur there, but we handled them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyway, there’s more than enough oil that we can sell much of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s why the place got so crowded; a
lot of displaced goblins from Kezan drifted here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">And who speaks for
the centaurs</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">? I thought to myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
remembered their encampments in Desolace, the tents made from the skins of
their own kind, and shuddered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who indeed</i>?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I noticed that the speedbarge is much more crowded than the Mirage
Raceway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Definitely, way more profitable now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can also sell table salt, which we get from the
desalination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Problem is, there’s
the question of ownership.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pozzick
and Fizzle both claim to be in charge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Maybe they could have worked it out, but the Alliance and the Horde
just had to grab a piece of the action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pozzick doesn’t want to give his profits to the Bilgewater Cartel, but
if he works against them, they’ll probably replace him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That cartel’s trouble,” said Daj’yah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I think Gnomeregan wants to fund its own reclamation with the oil
profits here, so that’s why this place is lousy with spies from the
factions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s no secret that
thugs on both sides are trying to engineer a confrontation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Like the gnomes in the other room?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Some of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Point is,
people who were perfectly friendly back when this all started are getting
mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re afraid that this
whole thing is going to go up in flames and they want to be on the winning
side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plenty of goblins are the
same way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What do you think will happen?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I figure something has to give sooner or later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t like the idea of the speedbarge
becoming a Horde base, but if the Alliance gets it, they might push me into the
sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orgrimmar and Stormwind
turned it into an us-or-them situation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The only hope, strange as it sounds, are the Southsea Pirates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They gave us a lot of trouble in the
early days, but I guess there was some shuffling at the top, and now they’re
interested in cooperation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
might be able to give enough security to make Horde or Alliance agents think
twice before starting anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“So why not hire them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Because Fizzle and Pozzick don’t trust each other enough to hire them
jointly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve talked to Pozzick
and I have a gnome friend who knows Fizzle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither of them wants to be sucked into the war, but each
thinks the other is angling to use factional backing to throw out the
opposition.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Don’t they trust each other enough to run the oil fields?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There’s a lot of backroom dealing for control over that, so not
really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now they split the
profits and each pay their own people: gnomes for Fizzle, goblins for
Pozzick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Fizzle and Pozzick can
get their acts together, the speedbarge might come through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s mostly Fizzle’s fault; he thinks
Pozzick is untrustworthy for trying to profit off the speedbarge back before
the Cataclysm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Typical gnomish
distrust of commerce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t
let a deal like that slip past you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The Horde might be willing to settle for neutral control of the
speedbarge,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The main
concern is to keep it out of Alliance hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Fizzle knows that, and it sounds like some people in the Horde agree
with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right now,
unfortunately, there are still a lot of idiots in the Bilgewater Cartel pushing
for total control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Longer they do
that, the less likely they are to give up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess we’ll see how it turns out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Muzgo lamented the current state of affairs to us for a while longer, talking
between draughts of the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
excused ourselves some time later, going back up to a deck just starting to
cool in the evening darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
met back up with Kwehana.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Pozzick has no choice but to give Horde travelers a discount on fuel,”
he reported, sounding a bit smug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Tensions raised in the day’s heat seemed to fade in the darkness, stars
winking through the smog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
crowds began to mix.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beneath a
sputtering electric lamp, I saw a goblin and a gnome deep in discussion, their
postures relaxed and tones friendly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">In a strange twist of fate, the Cataclysm actually made Gadgetzan a more
pleasant place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered the
old city as a furnace in the desert, noise and heat trapped in a bubble of smog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though pollution still scars the throat
there is at least the relief of the ocean breezes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tired city-dwellers sometimes gather on the shore as if
congregants in a church, receiving benedictions of clean air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">There was a time when goods destined for Gadgetzan would be unloaded in
the small town of Steamwheedle Port.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many believed that Steamwheedle Port would eclipse Gadgetzan in profit,
but the Cataclysm annihilated the coastal town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The onrushing waves killed hundreds and drowned the desert
up to the walls of Gadgetzan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">After landing, we made our way through the labyrinthine streets to the
Gadgetzan Visitors’ Rest, the same dim hotel where I’d stayed during my first
visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found it almost
unchanged, the lights kept low as a response to the desert glare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">After settling in, Daj’yah went to the telegraph office to inform Elazzi
of what had happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke with
a goblin named Znag Slyzzilgip whom I’d actually met during my first
visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still dressed in the gray
suit of the Gadgetzan Water Company, he filled me in on the town’s recent
history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A radio piped cheery
goblin music into the lounge, the first such device I’d seen since leaving the
Crossroads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gadgetzan is too
distant to receive any signal but its own, but the town’s population ensures a
lively radio scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You picked a good time to come back, all in all,” he said, after taking
a sip from his coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A lot of
opportunity in Tanaris these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gadgetzan’s ended up being Uldum’s main trading partner; dealing with
the Alliance or Horde carries a lot of baggage that the Ramkaheni aren’t sure
they want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The Ramkaheni are the sovereign natives of Uldum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What sorts of things end up being traded?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Precious stones, artwork, some rare medicines, grains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uldum might be a good place to grow
cotton too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How’s Gadgetzan itself?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Like I said, it’s busy, and busy is good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Alliance cleared out the Southsea Pirates; we’ve
rewarded them with preferential trade deals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“For all of Steamwheedle?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or just Gadgetzan?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Relax, just Gadgetzan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Those odd trolls up in Zul’farrak got restive, but were put back in
their place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wastewander Bandits
aren’t much of a problem any longer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“And the silithids?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Still some hives out in the desert, but they aren’t as aggressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think losing contact with the qiraji
turned them into wild animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’re dangerous, don’t get me wrong, but aren’t really an existential
threat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like I told you before,
still plenty of opportunity for a Forsaken.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What about for a troll mage?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh, the gal you were with earlier?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mages are always useful,” he said with a shrug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I remember there also being some tension between the Cartel and the
Water Company.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not so much now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old
Bilgewhizzle finally got bought out by a private interest and the new boss is
much more amenable to the authorities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kind of a shame; place isn’t as exciting any longer, but that’s progress
for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Is there much partisan activity?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s been partisan involvement up in the Thousand Needles.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You don’t need to try and be sneaky about it; I know you’re asking
about Alliance partisans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes,
some are here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three big groups—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Do any of them use a sunburst as their logo?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That would be Zenith.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What do you know about them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I don’t stick my nose in partisan business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I retired to my room at sundown, where Daj’yah joined me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She surveyed the cramped little space
with no little consternation, having to lean forward to even fit through the
door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I was going to offer you the bed, but I think you’re too tall for it,”
I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Goblins are so small!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here, let me have the pillow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As long as my head’s on something soft, I’ll sleep fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I tossed it over to her, sitting down on the bed’s springy
mattress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guilt borne from
vestigial Lordaeronian chivalry troubled me, but there was little to be
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both of us quiet, we heard
the sound of conversation in the adjoining parlor and the swoosh of the ceiling
fan’s wooden blades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“How do you like Gadgetzan?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Exciting, like any other goblin city. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You still thinking of Uldum?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Maybe I’ll go with you this time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I nodded, recalling the Shrine of Goldrinn on Hyjal, the angry mob that
had descended upon me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was
supposedly less of an Alliance presence in Uldum, but who really knew?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the elves defend Hyjal, so too might
the dwarves lay claim to Uldum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Perhaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know little of
the place, or what dangers await there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, don’t treat me like I’m glass, Destron.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“No, I know you aren’t… but I don’t want you to risk going there unless
you’re sure you want to see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hyjal was far more treacherous than I had expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had an encounter…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Words caught in my throat as hundreds of angry faces hovered in
memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had it not been for
priestess’ contemptuous acknowledgement of the Hyjal Truce, they’d have killed
me for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My powers are
limited, and I cannot fight an army alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I was attacked by Alliance partisans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I escaped, no serious harm was done,” I said, the truth of
the matter caught in my throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“My point being, that some of these places are still quite dangerous.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there’s the
Hyjal Truce!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did they hurt you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
more pilgrims than partisans, and they didn’t intend to kill me, just hurt me
enough to discourage visitation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What do you mean by not seriously?” she demanded, propping herself up
on an elbow to look at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I mean not seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was never in any true danger.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Destron, what they do to you is done to all the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I reported it to a Horde representative, but there’s not much he can
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hyjal is elven territory
anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Territory’s whatever you can hold, and if there’s Horde there it’s partly
ours too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“There aren’t many Horde still on Hyjal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah, I just want you to realize why I’m concerned.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">She was silent for a moment, lying back down on the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“If I go to Uldum, I won’t be wandering out into the desert or
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be staying in the
cities.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Let’s see if we can learn more about the situation in Uldum,” I
insisted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Last I heard, the
Ramkaheni were neutral, but their sympathies may have shifted.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ll do the research myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You go off and take mad risks without asking anyone, so who are you to
judge?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">My jaw dropped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I didn’t mean to offend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But I’ve already died once; it doesn’t matter so much if I die again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Maybe not to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah awoke before I did; the goblin at the register told me that
she’d gone out into the city at dawn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Daj’yah’s writings have further elucidated arcane understanding and are
of immeasurable benefit to all mages in the Horde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, I travel for my own edification.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those leaders in the Horde who cared
what I have to say are mostly dead or out of power; sharing my findings could
also endanger the lives or reputations of some who have helped me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daj’yah alone knows the full extent of
my wanderings, and is similarly constrained in sharing them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are only the redacted versions in
Eitrigg’s possession, and they have failed to make a difference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I wandered out to Gadgetzan’s new shoreline, the shallow waters traveled
by fishing boats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next to me, a
rusty machine of unidentifiable purpose poked a sad appendage out from the
beach, the gears crusted in wet sand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Watching seabirds loop through the clear skies, I thought back to what
Anlivia had said back in Moonglade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What kept me in the Horde?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I spent the morning asking local travelers about Uldum, figuring that
Daj’yah was doing the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most
said that the Ramkaheni still wished to stay neutral, and that the cities
(excepting the Lost City and Neferset, due to their schismatic beliefs) were
safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Not as many noisy partisans as there are here, I’ll say that much,” reported
one goblin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I had not forgotten about the Alliance partisan group called Zenith, and
had already been pondering how best to investigate them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doing so turned it to be easier than I’d
expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Almost lost in the clamor and smoke of the city, one can just see the
stained banner of a golden sunburst on a blue field over a squat tent near the
northern gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt strange to
see that symbol writ large and in the open when so few people in the north knew
of its existence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Word of famous
partisan bands spreads quickly in the modern age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Hurrying back to the inn, I put on my human disguise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had just enough components for my
purposes (I knew that the Masquerade had vacated Undercity, but did not know
where the eccentric alchemist had gone from there).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately, I hadn’t taken it with me to Hyjal, or else the
elven mob would have destroyed it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I went inside the tent, stepping into a shaft of hazy sunlight let in
from square openings in the upper sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A lone dwarf sat behind a collapsible table that was covered in
papers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He raised his head,
revealing a yellow beard tied up in two thick braids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Hello, my name is Talus Corestiam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you part of the group called Zenith?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Aye!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you looking to
join?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m considering it, though I would like to know more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Well, do you love the Alliance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“With all my heart!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Then we’re probably a good fit for you!” he said with a laugh, his
voice booming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Here, pull up that
chair and we’ll talk in more detail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You said your name’s Talus Corestiam?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You have?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m afraid I
wouldn’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your name is…?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Margon Chiseltooth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
skills can you bring to Zenith?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re a top-notch defense organization, focused in the east but with a significant
presence in Kalimdor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Zenith’s got
more than enough green troops, but we’re always in need of hard-bitten
fighters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’m a reasonably experienced wizard who’s managed to survive lengthy
sojourns in Outland and Northrend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Ah, some of us fought in those places, you’ll be in good company
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, you understand I’m not
authorized to sign you up, but I can send a telegram to our office in
Theramore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mages are always good
to have around, and I’m sure they’ll say yes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You need to know that Zenith is a patriotic organization, not a
mercenary one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We fight so that
the Alliance can prevail against the Horde and retake what’s been lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Zenith can cover some basic expenses,
but you won’t get rich.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did
Zenith get started?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“You can thank the Horde for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our founder, Gestarn Tair, saw right through Thrall’s lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s a Stormwinder, and was still a
child when he followed Anduin up north.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now, the new Horde’s revealed what it’s really about: conquest, murder,
and tyranny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“As you know, it’s a difficult time for the Alliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poverty in Stormwind, political chaos
in Ironforge, and the Kaldorei under attack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s enough to make the lily-livered fools in the press
quail about defeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tair sees it
as an opportunity for the Alliance to reach new heights, to prevail against the
Horde once and for all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Does he think that the Alliance governments are incapable of doing
this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“The governments on both sides have relied on freelancers in the past,
so there’s nothing new under the sun here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tair knows that some of the best fighters are independent,
and he wants the skills of men like you to make the Alliance great again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“What does he think should be done with the Horde after they’re
defeated?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Margon raised an eyebrow at my question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That’s really more for the Alliance to decide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We just want to make sure they’re in a
position to do so.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I realized that I would not get anywhere without being direct.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“A colleague of mine working with the Cenarion Circle has said that
Zenith is exploring some of the old Twilight’s Hammer bases, maybe in hopes of
using cult armaments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is this
true?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“My, you are a curious one!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m not really very high-ranking, so it’s not my place to know all of
Zenith’s plans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I can tell
you is that Zenith wants to make sure that the Horde doesn’t get its hands on
Twilight weaponry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Earthen
Ring’s occupied a lot of these cult bases, and you can be sure anything they
find is going to get to the Horde.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“That makes sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Partisans on both sides have used demonic and Scourge weapons, so this
isn’t really anything new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ugly, I
agree, but war’s always ugly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
won’t have to touch any of that elementium if you don’t want to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I thanked Margon for his time and promised that I’d consider the
offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told me that there was
always a place for Alliance patriots in the ranks of Zenith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walking out, I reflected on what I’d
encountered in Hyjal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">There was no doubt in my mind that Zenith was experimenting with cult
armaments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The question then was
whether or not such an activity was even worth examining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had already been pointed out to me,
by several people, that researching and using questionable armaments is
standard procedure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">The coded note had urged the carrier to dispose of the materials, which
suggested a secrecy that Margon had not reflected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then again, the Zenith operatives had been operating in
Kaldorei lands, and Darnassus and the Cenarion Circle are among the few groups
absolutely opposed to using malign substances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Perhaps what troubled me was the obscurity of the Twilight’s
Hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However destructive and
corrupt, the Burning Legion and Scourge are understandable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their armed forces functioned as
standard militaries, albeit with somewhat unusual advantages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Twilight’s Hammer, in contrast,
seems to operate outside of logic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The full capabilities of the Twilight’s Hammer, and how this may or may
not relate to their weapons, should perhaps be a bigger source of concern.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">I returned to the Gadgetzan Visitors’ Rest at dusk to find Daj’yah
seated at a table and reading one of the books she’d retrieved from Vidder’s
ill-fated airplane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nervously, I
took the seat opposite her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Everyone’s saying the cities of Uldum are as safe as the mothers’ hut,”
she said, referring to the special huts reserved for trollish women who have
recently given birth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I’ve heard the same.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Safe enough for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
signed up on a caravan that leaves in a few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ve still got plenty room for you, if you want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Oh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured most of the
traffic to Uldum would be maritime.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“I thought so too, but the caravan master—a Broken draenei named
Kulud—said that visiting merchants are to always deliver a few gifts to King
Phaoris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That, and the coastal
lands are still unstable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So are
you going?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I’d best sign
up now, before the slot’s taken.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">“Good idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kulud’s in
another guest house, a place called the Grand Caravanserai near the north
gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here, I’ll take you to it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">We both stood up from the table, Daj’yah putting the book in her
bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I caught a glimpse of the
suddenly familiar cover, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Knight’s
Lamentation </i>written on the front, and smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following Daj’yah, I went back out into the streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Destronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08880259350300667791noreply@blogger.com8