10-19-2005, 03:14 PM
As Kernasas finished writing the words on the parchment, he set his quill down and reread the words he had scrawled onto the paper.
Friends & family-
As I sit to write this letter to my family of Ironsong, I ponder all the changes I have bared witness to over the many moons since I became part of this tribe. From having met a kind druid named Fleethoof to being introduced to the whole of the tribe at one of the moots we have. The kindness shown by Lady Eveline in helping me with my art, the generosity of Shillatae in providing me with supplies to further my tailoring craft, the companionship of Merrina, the wisdom of Damoxian, the ale & adventure with Rawne, and all of the other tribe mates have opened my eyes to the true beauty of Azeroth.
But, the festivities at the burning of the Wickerman near the Ruins of Lordaeron have left a taste in mouth (for all I can taste), which is sour and pungent. I stand conflicted, noâââ¬Ã¦confused as to who I am, who I was, and why I am a warlock. How can I be saddened over the murder of innocents yet master the art of summoning demons? Why is it I see beauty in the world but only deal in death?
With that, I have made the decision to learn more about whom I was before I became one of the Forsaken. I remember very little other than I came from near Stormwind City. Long and tiring will the journey be but I must do it to understand more about my life before I became Kernasas.
Thank you friends for accepting me for who I am. I do not know who I will be by learning that I was. It could scare my soul further or destroy me.
Farewell and safe journeys to you.
-Kernasas
Once the ink was dry, he folded the paper into a letter and reached for the wax sitting on the desk. Warming it over the candle illuminating his workspace, he allowed the wax to drip onto the dry parchment in front of him. Quickly, Kernasas reached for the stamp and placed it into the still drying wax to leave his seal on the letter.
Flipping it over, Kern (as his friends called him) wrote in elegant penmanship the name of the addressee on the front: Merrina
Merrina was his trusted friend in all of the Ironsong Tribe. He had bonded with her during an adventure into the depths of <dungeon>. His bond with the troll huntress had only increased over the months; her showering him with kindness, him cooking food for her.
ââ∠âThey will understand why I must do thisâââ¬Ã
Friends & family-
As I sit to write this letter to my family of Ironsong, I ponder all the changes I have bared witness to over the many moons since I became part of this tribe. From having met a kind druid named Fleethoof to being introduced to the whole of the tribe at one of the moots we have. The kindness shown by Lady Eveline in helping me with my art, the generosity of Shillatae in providing me with supplies to further my tailoring craft, the companionship of Merrina, the wisdom of Damoxian, the ale & adventure with Rawne, and all of the other tribe mates have opened my eyes to the true beauty of Azeroth.
But, the festivities at the burning of the Wickerman near the Ruins of Lordaeron have left a taste in mouth (for all I can taste), which is sour and pungent. I stand conflicted, noâââ¬Ã¦confused as to who I am, who I was, and why I am a warlock. How can I be saddened over the murder of innocents yet master the art of summoning demons? Why is it I see beauty in the world but only deal in death?
With that, I have made the decision to learn more about whom I was before I became one of the Forsaken. I remember very little other than I came from near Stormwind City. Long and tiring will the journey be but I must do it to understand more about my life before I became Kernasas.
Thank you friends for accepting me for who I am. I do not know who I will be by learning that I was. It could scare my soul further or destroy me.
Farewell and safe journeys to you.
-Kernasas
Once the ink was dry, he folded the paper into a letter and reached for the wax sitting on the desk. Warming it over the candle illuminating his workspace, he allowed the wax to drip onto the dry parchment in front of him. Quickly, Kernasas reached for the stamp and placed it into the still drying wax to leave his seal on the letter.
Flipping it over, Kern (as his friends called him) wrote in elegant penmanship the name of the addressee on the front: Merrina
Merrina was his trusted friend in all of the Ironsong Tribe. He had bonded with her during an adventure into the depths of <dungeon>. His bond with the troll huntress had only increased over the months; her showering him with kindness, him cooking food for her.
ââ∠âThey will understand why I must do thisâââ¬Ã