On little more than a whim I went to the Kodo last night. A drink sounded unbelievably refreshing after the burning plains of the peninsula. I thought perhaps that I would catch up a bit on idle gossip before retiring back to Thrallmar.

So it was entirely unexpected when I ran into noneother than Matojo himself.

I heard his voice from behind a fencepost and I felt my blood freeze in my veins. I was afraid! Afraid of seeing him again, afraid of talking with him again, afraid of reliving everything I have put behind me in the past two years. And this fear of mine grew and changed as the evening progressed and I discovered, to my vast disappointment and relief, that he has lost his memories of me.

On one hand, it was freeing to think that there would be no shame in forgetting all that had happened. He did it, and was living through it, so why not I do the same?

It was unexpectedly depressing, however, to be confronted with the reality that I am forgettable. Having heard statements to the contrary for so many years apparently affected my ego far more than I had assumed.

We chatted some, awkwardly, about life as we had known it and as we know it now. Darda has apparently left him for the life of a seamstress - something that seems so far removed from reality that I wonder what he real reason was. Imagining Vestia as a seamstress is something akin to seeing an infernal tapdancing on water.

He hoped...I could tell he wanted me to be available. I am unsure as to whether I wish

I have Toroca, and I am happy. This is all that matters.

They are here.

It is happening, all over again, but this time I am not in a unit. I am not training, I am simply working for a living and in a hut and they are here.

It is not safe here. Not in the openness of our home. I will wait until it looks safe and then make a break for Hunter Rise. If that is not safe then I can use my stone to hurry to Crossroads, although I hear it is one of the places most heavily under attack. The advantage to fleeing there would be the fact that it is not half a mile up in the sky.

Can I fight
Do I have a
And amongst all this

He has left to fight them and I have not a clue what I am to do now


(( small watermarks pepper the bottom of the page, falling just underneath spattered ink ))

It was not long after my last entry that I was reunited with Toroca, and the two of us have been nearly inseparable ever since. Life has been somewhat nomadic, but it was a lifestyle I was already coming quite close to emulating. We sleep, I cook, we hunt, we move, and then the next day comes. There are times that we are apart, but never for more than a few days at one time. No more suffering through months of separation whilst we wait to be joined again.

Life has been...good.

My time with Toroca has shown me a glimpse of his more feral side, an aspect of his personality that apparently shifted to the surface when he halted the use of his herbs. By taking control of what he eats and when, I have been able to push that feral side further down than it has been. He is far less prone to rampages of bloodlust, although I have no qualms against joining him in them when they do appear. There is plenty of prey in this world for the two of us to slaughter.

His thoughts have become somewhat disjointed, however, and I find myself beginning to fear for his sanity. What is worse is that I am unsure as to whom I can approach for guidance in retaining his lucidity. Perhaps a visit to Silvermoon-

At the Kodo last evening, he mentioned that he has been searching for a place for us to settle down. It came as a surprise - it is not something I would have imagined he wished for. What was slightly disconcerting was his desire to do so in Silvermoon. There are too many memories there for me to want to live there with him, so I suggested Thunder Bluff, which has wonderful scenery and well-rounded weather patterns. He seemed enthused at the idea and forgot about Silvermoon entirely.

Well, to be quite honest, there were other things that most likely helped him forget about Silvermoon entirely.

Why did I not think of that application for the waterbreathing spell sooner? We must try that again sometime. Perhaps, in waters warmer than those off the coast of Ratchet!

Again, I was distracted.

My aim was to head towards Silvermoon, to repair my journal and perhaps rest someplace clean and comfortable for a while. Alas, Aztaan's hooves convinced me to go in other directions, and now I find myself in Hammerfall, of all places. Still, a return to civilization was necessary, I imagine, as my lifestyle has become far too barbarian for my tastes.

I do not feel that the road calls to me as much as it is simply sometimes preferable to work.

I managed to complete some long-overdue tasks in the past few days, and was rewarded properly despite my inability to do anything promptly. These are things I must work on - finding the ethic inside me to do the tasks required of me in a decent amount of time, and also finding employers that are not quite as lenient.

It has been months, again, since I have seen Toroca. I pray he is well. I still wear his bracelet around my wrist, but to be quite honest, I have completely forgotten how to use it. I do recall him saying I could contact him with it...but perhaps it was simply a figment of an eager imagination.

Silvermoon is not too far from here. Perhaps I shall travel there this evening. I have begun to suspect that there is much more about my demons that I can learn in order to utilize them more effectively in battle. While the Undercity may have the resources I would require in order to undertake these studies, it lacks the down beds I know Silvermoon can offer.

(( The journal is now dirty, with wet splotches at the edge of every page. The cover is stained and dull, and the entire book smells foul. The handwriting is almost as prim as always, although it is careful to not touch the wet spots. ))

I lost this book months ago, around the Feast of Winter's Veil. I found it underneath the a pile of rotting hay in the barn at Tarren Mill, where it must have fallen from my pack as Toroca and I enjoyed ourselves in celebration of the holiday. A shameful mistake, however, I take solace in the fact that obviously nobody of importance has discovered the book. There is a bookmaker in Silvermoon City that I have heard of - I shall be paying him a visit in hopes of restoring this book to its former shine.

Since I last wrote, I was able to partake in the Lunar festival in Moonglade. It was a rather extravagant affair, albeit held outdoors. I was quite embarrassed when the very first person I greeted there was not only Kishi, but she was dressed in the same gown as I! Nevertheless, I pressed on and spent a wonderful evening with Toroca, part of which was spent cradled in his arms underneath the stars.

What luck have I!

I have also progressed far enough in my studies to summon and control a demonic mount. His name is Aztaan, and is a fine example of a fit and fiery steed. He does quite well in his duties, and is much more obedient than some demons I have had to endure.

I must shamefully admit that since acquiring Aztaan, I have done little in the way of furthering my abilities. It is too easy to simply ride across the continents, exploring and studying all of Azeroth. I know that I can see more by improving myself, but for now, the roads are too tempting to ignore.

(( Since everyone else is putting these posts in their character journals, I will too, since more of you guys read this journal than my regular one. :) Warning, though...I get pretty bitchy behind the cut. >.>

( WoW RP Pet Peeves! )

I spent most of my day in Hillsbrad, slaughtering dwarves that had made the poor decision of stealing a warrior's sword. It was actually enjoyable work, and Belnar performed admirably. While I did not mind the dwarves themselves as opponents, they seemed to be surrounded by bears and spiders that were much more aggravating. Thankfully, I was able to acquire a few quality pelts off the beasts. Hopefully they will auction well.

I grew somewhat tired of the grassy hills, however, and decided to travel back to the Barrens to spend the night. I sat on a roof in Ratchet and watched the tide roll in, and Toroca appeared behind me. We clung close to each other, talking about what we have each been busying ourselves with. I heard his back crack horribly, so I set about giving him a back rub. I dare say he appreciated it. We spoke of units, his new one (based out of Dun Morogh, apparently) and if I was considering one. I mentioned that I have been thinking about the Kodo's tavern crew, although I have made no steps to initiate an inquiry. Perhaps I shall soon.

At one point, he set his face gently against mine, and he said to me...he loves me. And I thought to myself, "Is this where I want to be?"

As of now...it is.

He showed me how much he appreciates me afterwards. I truly sympathize with the innkeeper. Perhaps I will send him a pair of earmuffs.

I found my journal underneath a bed in the Ratchet inn. Apparently I dropped it there last week. I have been searching every place I have been in Kalimdor, trying to find this book. It appears to be unharmed, and thankfully, unrifled.

After I last left the Kodo, I had been all set to fly to Crossroads and turn in for the evening. However, as I approached the goblin flight master, I saw none other than Darda. We exchanged glances for several moments. I am unsure what was behind her eyes, although I am sure that the fear behind mine must have shone brightly.

As things turned out, we walked off to sit and talk for a good amount of time. She asked about my hand, and I told her, surprisingly, as well as showing her the scar on my stomach. She has suggested I travel to Moonglade and talk to the druids there - apparently Miss Sihu is among them - but I doubt that I will. In some ways, I have come to terms with my disfigurements, and bear them as marks of memory. As long as my hand is colored darker than blood, how can I forget what I did to stay alive? As long as I am unable to reproduce...

Besides, I have none I would wish to have children with. As much as I love Toroca, I am not aware if elves are capable of bearing children with trolls. I could see how it may be physiologically impossible - it is nearly so just to make love in the first place. But if it were somehow possible? I am not sure. It would be something to talk with Toroca about. But now is not the time. I am in no hurry to be tied down by the responsibilities of raising a child.

I asked Darda how she lost her ear. She related a simple story of her riding wolf biting it off during training. I wonder if she keeps that as a mark of memory?

Near the end of our conversation, I asked her about Matojo. She mentioned that he was having some rough times, and I responded by saying I hoped she was there for him. She did not seem too fond of the subject. Perhaps they have had yet another quarrel?

It matters not to me, I suppose. I removed myself from his life. I should not be asking about it.

I write all this as I sit outside the Kodo this evening. I have seen one or two people pass by that I recognize, but it appears that the Zephyr Crew has decided against opening the tavern tonight. I think I shall head back to--

A tauren woman came and set up a fire outside the inn, and I took it upon myself to greet and speak with her. She apparently came to speak with Miss Sara, who was not in attendance this evening. A conversation with her - Miss Khydann - and Miss Caeryn revealed that apparently Miss Sara has been injured, and her wounds have not healed properly due to a poison in her system. Once again I have been informed that the druids of Moonglade are the most extraordinary healers in existance.

That last line may have been tinged with a small amount of annoyance.

Miss Khydann came to the Kodo in search of tutors and mentors for her newly adopted daughter. Apparently the girl has some proficiency with arcane magic, and I advised her as best I could in finding a teacher. But I doubt my knowledge was of any real help. I did find the coincidence interesting, however, that after I pondered having a child with Toroca, along comes a woman with a freshly adopted one.

While I have been traveling around quite a lot lately, I have not been working as much as I once was. Toroca expressed a desire to work alongside of me, and I feel obligated to wait until he is ready before I continue onward. It has been a while since I have seen him last...I hope he is well. He sent me a rose last week. I carry it with me to keep him as close as I can manage.

I finally was able to muster up the composure to reply to Darda's letter from two weeks ago. I wrote something that I hoped would allow her a graceful way out if the original letter had indeed been written during a period of intoxication, but would also allow her to meet up with me if that is what she truly desired. I received a short reply in which she said she would be at the Kodo that evening, so I solidified my plans to be there.

After participating in some "fire brigade" practice in the undead city of Brill, I ended up writing Toroca a letter. I was able to keep it fairly clear of sap, but I found myself almost unable to move from the mailbox after I had mailed it. I kept hoping he would have checked his mail at that very moment and was immediately writing a reply to me.

In my self-induced impatient stupor, I almost didn't notice the ghostly wolf standing in front of me. After petting it for a minute, it changed forms into Toroca.

He does make a rather cute wolf.

We walked towards the back of the inn to have some time away from the increasing mass of people in the center of Brill. We talked of what he had learned, of my lethargy, of what we had been doing for the past...what has it been? A month? Of course, it did not take long at all to give in to more carnal desires and leave all caution of privacy to the wind.

All went well...until the inn caught fire, and somewhere around twenty horde charged around the corner.

If the Headless Horseman did not want me to have a personal reason to see him dead, he failed rather spectacularly.

We both pulled on our armor quickly and went to help fight the firey menace, but he was defeated before we even reached the square. Together we agreed to move our 'conversation' somewhere much more secluded, and retreated to the old standard of Crossroad's guard tower.

I showed him the outfit I put together for him from the beer festival. He...enjoyed it.

The lethargy I spoke of...the slowness that was gripping my limbs like caramel...I believe it is gone now.

I checked my mailbox today to find a letter awaiting me from none other than Vestia.

It seemed to be an apology of sorts...even asking me to that dinner I proposed months ago.

I am...unsure of how to respond.

Maybe I will try to talk to Toroca about it. If I see him, that is. It's been quite some time...