The Scribe

In the darkest hour of the night there is but one light visible, still flickering in the window of the Dalaran Dormitory. If you quietly approach the window, lightly fogged with the difference in warmth from the fireplace within, you can see a young woman. Her dark shoulder length hair is tucked neatly behind her ears and she wears a simple but sturdy grey robe. She is hunched over her desk in diligent concentration. She is writing. The soft glow of a magical lantern bobs just over her shoulder illuminating her work.

You might wonder why she writes so industriously at this odd hour. She is a student here of the arcane, but her first love is for wordcraft. She is a scribe. At this hour, if she is not found scribbling at her desk she can be found in her bed curled up with a good book.

When she was younger she thought to become a painter. Sadly, she did not have the talent to coax from her brush to the canvas the images she saw in her mind's eye. Now she paints with words creating worlds on paper. Some may say this is an easier art. Yet sometimes those just right words fly just out of pen's reach.

Still she writes...

One Month In (or bucket lists are not fun)

It has been one month since the release of Mists of Pandaria. I'm sure my readers may have noticed a significant slow down in posts here, namely because the game is keeping me so busy in my spare time that I just haven't had as much time to be creative.

I keep an eye on other blogs, and seeing updates on others' bucket lists leaves me feeling pretty poorly. You see, I very rarely write down my bucket list, because then it becomes a "thing." You know? The kind of "thing" that MUST be completed. But this is not to say that I do not have a bucket list, I just keep it in my head.

So where am I one month into the expansion? I have one level 90. Surprisingly, the character I most enjoyed playing right out of the box was my Paladin. She has her primary tradeskills maxed (enchanting and tailoring).  Yes, I know, a plate wearer with clothie tradeskills, but in my defense she sat as my bank alt for several years doing next to nothing before I gave her those professions. I am currently working on faction rep with the Tillers, the Anglers, and of course the Golden Lotus. This is about as much daily questing as I can stomach at the moment. I have yet to do any dungeons or raids with her, however I did help kill the Sha of Anger once (does that count as a raid?).

I occasionally have logged onto my two level 85 characters, but have not gotten very far in Pandaria leveling with either of them. I do intend to work them up to level 90, however I am having a lot of fun leveling my mage (currently level 21), a Pandaren shaman (currently level 12), and a gnome monk (currently level 10).

I sometimes dabble into pet battles. My highest level team is all level 8, so I haven't gotten too far. I enjoy the pet battles enough that I'm limiting how much time I spend on them. Once upon a time fishing was my go-to wind down activity. Now it is pet battles.

So, what's the conclusion? Well, we all know I am an alt-oholic. This contributes to how far behind I am. However, I would also argue that I can't really put myself on a level playing field with your average WoW blogger. Once upon a time I was able to play several hours every day. Now my game time has been pared down to two days a week. Granted on those days I do tend to play for 5-8 hours, but still...

WTB a winning lottery ticket so I can quit work and play WoW full time

A Vision Quest

"Theramore destroyed... Ashenvale attacked but holding... The Alliance leadership calling out for Horde blood and vice versa... We of the Cenarion Circle must stand together more so now than ever before. This is why I have gathered you, my closest druid friends, here for this most sacred rite. Will you partake with me in this ceremony calling on the Earthmother for guidance, here in this land most troubled by recent events?"

My eyes roamed over those gathered, taking in the calm fierceness of my tauren friend, the wild strength of my worgen friend, and the spiritual vigor of my troll friend. Each of them nodded in solemn affirmation.

I knelt on the red clay earth of the mesa we had chosen for the ritual. Touching my hands to the warm ground before the fire I looked up at my friends. "We are of all different races and all different beliefs, but we all strive for a common goal. This is not a rite of my people, but one of yours." I nodded significantly to the tauren. "Will you lead us?"

He tossed his tawny mane and grunted, the sound coming from low and deep in his chest, then nodded in agreement. He silently gestured for the rest of us to kneel in a circle around the fire. "I have already prepared the Water of the Seers," he rumbled as he began to poor the liquid into small clay cups, delivering them to each of us, then taking his place to close the circle. He began to chant slowly in Taur-ahe. When his chant was complete he poured the remaining sky blue liquid from the ceremonial pitcher into the fire. The fire burst up into bright white flames licking at the moon-filled sky. Then he nodded for us to drink. "Now be silent with your thoughts. Watch the fire or the sky. Feel the Earth. It will not be long before she speaks to us, although we may each experience it in different ways."

I turned my eyes to the earth and found there a group of ants toiling away at some project. They were carrying small pieces of grass and dirt, marching off in a straight line as if to war. I sat and watched this for a long while, my thoughts slowly changing, my mind and spirit opening to new ideas. Eventually my mind wended its way to the realization that we are just like the ants, with the Dragons and Ancients watching over us, and the Titans watching over them.  And what if there are bigger things watching over them, and bigger things watching over them, and so on... Where does it stop? What is the meaning of it? Why?

Feeling rather panicked and nearly overcome with the feeling of smallness and unimportance, I suddenly heard a deep, calming female voice telling me to be at peace. If you've ever spoken to the Stonemother, Therazane, this is what the voice sounded like, slow and deep and very peaceful, but also very powerful. I can't remember the exact words that She spoke to me, but I am very certain that I did indeed hear from the Earthmother that night. She told me that all would be well, that there is meaning to the world and the things we do, though She could not tell me more than this. She told me that the choices I have made are right and that as long as I follow my heart and soul my choices will continue to be right, at least to Her.

This is all I remember. I woke at dawn, the fire still blazing, but I was the only one there. I stretched and took a drink of water from one of my travel pouches, then doused the fire with the rest. I shifted into Storm Crow form and flew off in search of my friends.

And then...

The white-skinned draenei sighs deeply and sinks back into her chair. The bright blue of the night elf's eyes gleam with concern as he watches her. In a softer, more resigned tone, she continues her story, "After the Exodar I didn't really know where to go. I felt literally lost. The draenei talk and talk about the Light, but none of it could bring the calm of the Light back into my life. I can't feel it anymore. There was that bright flash on that day at Light's Hope Chapel, the day we were freed from His control, but I have not felt it since. I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe the night elves have it right in their worship of Elune. Maybe their teachings could free me."

"I went to Darnassus in search of peace. I found a lot of peace, but none of it was in my heart. I talked to the priestesses. I talked to the druids. When that provided me with no answers, I went out into the wilderness outside of the city. I thought maybe being alone in the wild would allow me to feel whatever answers our world had to give me, or at least to more clearly hear my own thoughts, my own heart."

"There, wandering in the wild, hunting and fishing and simply being, there I ran into a pack of worgen. I didn't even know they were out there. I'm not exactly the most adept hunter and tracker." She chuckles darkly at her own folly, "I should have known they were there. But I didn't, and suddenly there they were. I was surrounded in the middle of the woods. I didn't even have the heart to fight them, I felt so lost. Besides, they told me they didn't mean me any harm. They blindfolded me and took me to their secret meeting place, and there they presented to me a ritual used by the worshippers of Goldrinn. I watched a very young worgen undergo the rite and so temper the bestial fury within him."

"Now, I am not, nor have I ever been, a worshipper of the demi-gods, the Ancients, just as I would never worship one of the dragon aspects, but this ritual seemed powerful. I spoke to one of their druids about myself undergoing the ritual, but the worgen didn't seem to think it would work on me, simply because I am not technically alive."

"I was furious and left in a rage of destruction, taking down several small trees and killing a hapless wild owl on my way. Why had they even brought me there if they couldn't help me? What did any of it matter if I am dead anyway? My thoughts turned dark, Torq, and I thought of turning sides, appealing to the Dark Lady to take me in. At least then I'd be among other dead. I kept to myself for some time, brooding over these ideas before I returned to the city."

"When I returned to Darnassus, as a last resort I tried talking to some of the night elf warrior women, the Sentinels. I think the Sentinels were more help than any of the others, but they couldn't understand why I wanted to rid myself of my rage. The difference is that they have something to focus that rage at, the protection of their people. Who are my people, Torq? Who am I supposed to defend? Who am I supposed to be fighting? The world itself has been torn apart, but will fighting bring it back together?" She shakes her head sadly and whispers, "I don't think so..."

He squeezes her hand gently, "You're right. Fighting doesn't often fix things..."

She frowns and removes her hand from his, slowly clenching it into a fist, "But I was created to fight. It is all I know to do."

"Maybe it is time for you to learn something new to do." He shrugs.

"You make it sound so simple." She scowls at him.

He casually digs in a pouch, pulling out a random gizmo. As he does so there is a small but very fiery and brief lived explosion. She stifles a laugh. He coughs, waving a hand to clear the smoke and gives her a wry smile as he takes a spanner to the gizmo. "It is simple, Ice. This is how I moved on with my life. This is how I am free of my rage. I have something I enjoy doing that is also beneficial and engages my mind. You need a hobby, Ice."

She looks down at her callused hands, "I am already a blacksmith. You know I patch together my own armor from what I can find."

He chuckles lightly, "Everyone knows you patch your armor together from various scraps! No offense, but you're only a middle of the road blacksmith, and you don't seem to care to improve. You've got to find something you care about."

She shrugs, "You're right. It's a useful skill, but I'll never be one of those to create ornate pieces. I may never be better than to simply patch pieces of metal together. What I make is utilitarian, beyond that I just don't care."

He looks up from his work and into her eyes with a serious expression, "What do you care about, Ice?"

Druid Transmog #2

See my second transmogrification set for my balance/resto druid! It's very green. Kinda like the first one, but looks more.... grown up?

She's wearing:

Shoulders: Spaulders of Devastation
Chest: Ymirjar Physician's Robe
Gloves: Vicious Wyrmhide Gloves
Belt: Ley-Whelphide Belt
Weapon: Staff of the Verdant Circle

My baby druid is growing up! /sob

Another Drink

The night elf squeezes the draenei's hand before abruptly standing, knocking his knuckles loudly on the table. He bellows, "Barkeep, something a little stronger for me and my friend!"

Looking slightly embarrassed and slightly annoyed, the draenei sinks deep in her chair, hiding her amused smile behind the now empty mug of tea. She hisses at him to sit back down.

"What, Ice? Why are you still afraid of people noticing you?" He spreads his arms wide, gesturing around the bar, "No one cares anymore. We are just another part of the world now."

A curvaceous and red-haired dwarf delivers their mugs of mead, winking at the night elf as she gathers the pot and mugs of tea. He winks back at her slyly as he settles back into his seat, and she bustles away blushing.

The draenei shakes her head, whispering, "You haven't changed a bit."

"On the contrary," he says. "I'm far more confident now than I ever was before." He clears his throat. "Not that I was lacking in confidence then." He gives her a earnest look, "You should be confident too."

She frowns, "You don't understand, Torq."

He sighs and leans back in his chair, sipping his mead, "What don't I understand, Ice? Talk to me."

She takes a deep breath, preparing herself to to tell him. "The Aldor in Shattrath... They sent me away," she begins haltingly. "I think they were afraid of me. They sent me on to the group of draenei on Azeroth, to the Exodar." She shakes her head looking glumly into the mug she hasn't touched yet, "I learned nothing more there. I didn't really expect to. The Aldor just wanted me safely out of their hair. I was so angry, so..." She pauses, searching for the right word, "...unpredictable."

"Ice, you've always been unpredictable. It's who you are."

She chuckles darkly, "Maybe, but the anger makes it worse." She takes a deep drink of the mead.

He gives her a puzzled look, "Why are you still angry?"

"She balls her fists, her entire body shaking with energy, "Exactly! I don't know!" She pounds her fists into the sturdy, dwarven-made table. "If I knew then maybe I could control it. Afterall, He is gone. There is nothing left to focus my fury at. All I am left with is this anger that won't abate. The Aldor and the draenei of the Exodar... They didn't trust me. I hardly trust myself..."

A Breakdown

She slowly takes a deep drink of her tea before looking back up at the night elf sitting at the table across from her. He looks at her expectantly.

She clears her throat before quietly continuing, "You know I was sent to Outland."

He nods, "We both were."

She gives him a dark look, "It was there, bathed in demon blood under a rain of hellfire, that I found out He was gone."

He shrugs, "Me too."

She stares into her now empty mug, "I didn't know what to do. My whole purpose up to that point was to work my way back to Northrend to Him, to kill Him."

He reaches his hand across and softly wraps his hand around hers holding the mug, "I know. That was my purpose too. We had been separated. I tried to look for you, but there was no trace."

She doesn't shake his touch away this time. "I didn't know what to do," she repeats.

"Where did you go, Ice? What happened?"

"First, I went to Shattrath. I spent some time there among the Aldors, among my people, trying to get my life back, trying to rediscover the Light." She does not lift her gaze to meet his, "I didn't have much luck."

"I went to Shattrath too, in search of you, but did not find you. I thought you might have gone to them but the Aldors were hesitant to give me any information."

She glances up at him, "You looked for me? Why?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know why. I was lost too, you know. I thought maybe we could help each other."

She looks back down at her mug and mutters, "You don't seem so lost now..."

He gives her a hopeful smile, "I'm not lost anymore."

She looks back up at him, "I don't know how you managed it. I've been all over Azeroth trying to find my way. I just don't know what to do anymore. My heart wasn't in the battle against Deathwing. I don't know if I even have a heart left. I just don't care about anything anymore..."

He pats her hand, "You'll find your way. And I will help if I can. It just takes time."