Entry 30: The Heat

9th Day of Summer

   I did sleep, albeit not that well. But it's better than nothing. The vision I gained from the idol yesterday became more vivid in my dreams, and expanded into chaos. I don't know if it was the vision that became clearer, or if it was just a dream and I filled it all in myself, but it was horrific never the less. I saw people die over and over again as fire flowed over them, and just as the flame passed, another one rolled over them. People kept getting up, even after they had already died, only to burn again and crumple to the ground. And even then, they rose again.

   I've got chills just thinking about it. I've noticed my attention has been slipping more and more lately. While in the past I'd have spent far more time in the ruins, curiosity getting the better of me, I couldn't handle it for more than an hour and a half before getting tired, stumbling and getting quite bored.

   I haven't been sleeping well even before last night, and I've barely been eating, either. I need to get out of this place. The heat is just too much for me. I'll make for the south as soon as I'm able.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 29 - The Ruins of Thaurissan

8th Day of Summer

   The heat was greater than it's been out here yet. The ruins are close to the Blackrock Mountain, and so the further through the ruins I went, the hotter it became, and with few sources of water nearby, I had to conserve what I had until I could get back to the camp. And though I did pass through the mountain itself, and I should be able to remind myself that it could be worse, the heat is intense enough to push that thought from my mind. Regardless of how hot it was in there, it doesn't make it any less hot out here than it is.

   When Stebben Oreknuckle, one of the Dark Irons at the camp, heard I was going out there, he insisted on coming with me. I put it down to yet more creeping Dwarf behavior, but I feel a little embrassed to admit that, actually, he was quite interested in his own work. Still, I was grateful for his company. He was constantly on guard while salvaging any golems we passed by, and after half an hour or so I saw why. There were more Dark Iron Dwarves walking around the ruins, intent on spying on and attacking Chiselgrip where possible.

   We were attacked a few times, and once I even managed to fend one off before  Stebben noticed it was there. I was very proud of myself.

   But the ruins really are something else. From the camp they appeared so petty and disappointing, but when I actually got close to them I could appreciate them much, much more.

   Every brick is severely burned, coloured ashen grey from the fire of Ragnaros. The ground is still hot, almost eerily so, despite the mountain to the north, as if it would still be burning hot whether the mountain were there or not.

   I can still see the structure of fireplaces, which is virtually the only reminder that these piles of rock once resembled homes, but the most distressing view comes from the bodies. The bodies of Dwarves who died in the blast, but instead of being obliterated, they were solidified. A pyroclastic flow Stebben called it, where the bodies had been encased in searing hot ash, and cooked from inside it. It sounds like a horrible way to die, but he then went on to tell me that they wouldn't have died from it. The sheer heat alone would have killed them long before the ash took hold. Either way, it is a shocking site. These bodies, trapped in the throes of pain, have stood here for three hundred years.

   We went further into the ruins, and I found a...well I'm not sure what it was supposed to be, an idol of some sort, but when I picked it up, a vision flashed before me. I heard a voice belonging to nothing I've ever heard, threatening something, and I saw panicked faces, faces that had seemed so sure, so certain, but were transformed into ones of horror as they ran around. They didn't run for long, however. It seemed, in fact, that there had only been a few seconds to panic before fire filled my vision and the idol in my hands crumbled to dust. I'm able to more eloquently explain what I saw, though I don't remember what I heard. It was a jumble when I was witnessing it, it's only been after my mind was able to recover that I've been able to distinguish anything.

   Oreknuckle asked me what happened, what I had picked up, and then what I had seen. He seemed to know that such things were out here, and had told me not to pick anything up - I don't recall him saying that, but, knowing myself, even if I had heard him I'd have picked it up anyway.

   I suffered no ill effects from the idol, however, but the vision still sends me reeling. Now that I'm soon to go to sleep, I can see it clearer again. I wonder, in fact, if I'll be able to sleep tonight. I feel as though I have seen ghosts.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 28 - Chiselgrip

7th Day of Summer

   I did indeed find safety to the east with the Orc and the Dwarves. They were happy to share food with me, especially when I told them what had happened to the north with the Dark Iron clan. The Dwarf in particular seemed pleased with the aid I gave his people, while the Orc just seemed happy to have new company. He told me that they were going to wage war upon the Blackrock clan who dwell within the mountain, and when I offered them aid, they told me they could cope. I was a little surprised, given the scale of things in the area against the Blackrock Clan, but they seem confident enough. They were quite helpful, too. When I told them I wanted to get to the ruins to the north, and I asked if it would be reachable, they told me about another camp to the east which was directly south of and only a short distance from the site. I told them I'd set out the next morning, and when I awoke, Ariok (the Orc) was already up and preparing to leave the camp. He wished to escort me since he was heading there too, and it was just as well he did. While I learned a bit of fighting from the Dwarves recently, I'm still not as skilled as I could be, and my minimal abilities would never have defended me from the Blackrock ambush that was waiting by the roadside.

   Before I even knew what was happening, Ariok was already on top of them, and he did a fast job of taking them out, but I couldn't help blaming myself. I hadn't even dismounted before it was over.

   Ariok told me that the Orcs that ambushed us were young and hotheaded, and saw a group of two travellers to be an easy target. "They were wrong," is all he said in regards to their actions, however, and we continued onwards.

   There were no further attacks, fortunately, and we made it to the next settlement by supper time.

   I must also add, as it was a great honour, that Eitrigg is here within Chiselgrip. He's a highly respectable Orc, and more of them should be like him. I was a little surprised to see him out here, as I had expected him to never leave Orgrimmar, given his position towards the Warchief, but it has made the Burning Steppes seem a safer place.

   I've only seen the ruins of Thaurissan from this settlement, but the ruined walls are quite low. The area seems expansive, and a rift has opened through it and, I'm told, is filled with fire imp Demons. I'm a little disappointed with the remains, but I'm still going to explore it tomorrow. It's quite accessible, and, other than the imps, I don't see any other threats.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 27: The Burning Steppes

6th Day of Summer

    The road into the Burning Steppes was...not what I expected. I had assumed that there would be a road heading south around the mountain, but instead it passed through it.
   I had assumed that the heat of the Archduke was as hot as things could get, but I was proven wrong. I was excited to see Blackrock Mountain, and to pass through it, but I didn't enjoy the journey. I had to cast a minor spell over my water to keep it from evaporating from the heat. The warm air, hotter than I've ever felt, rose up from the lava as I followed the circular road along the inner wall of the volcano, and it created its own wind. Black dragons rode the airways and circled around the top a mile or so above me - far too close for comfort. But if they saw me, they payed me no heed.
   I was slowed as I passed through the mountain, the heat was excrutiating, and several times Styric and I had to stop for a rest, but when we finally reached the enormous steel doors at the far end, we both found our energy and picked up the pace.
   Though the outside is hot, in comparison it's as cool as the ocean, but it's still bone dry.

   The Burning Steppes appears to be more hostile than the Searing Gorge. I managed to pass through the latter without encountering any Dark Iron Dwarves who weren't a part of the Thorium Brotherhood, which sped up my passage through, but down here, the Orcs from the Blackrock clan are all over the place, and I'm really quite afraid. I think I've grown too adjusted to having others around me, what with the journey into Uldaman and then subsequent teaming up with the Thorium Brotherhood, because the thought of passing through this land alone is daunting, but that may be mostly due to the nature of these Orcs. They are not a part of the Horde.
   There's a camp near the bottom of this road that leads down from the mountain, and, perhaps I'm being a little too hopeful, there appears to be an Orc of dark skin, and two Dark Iron Dwarves. I may find shelter there, if two such beings can get along with one another. Either way, I'll approach cautiously.
   For now, however, I find myself stumbling down this road, and hoping to avoid the gaze of any would-be attackers. I feel very exposed out here, and I see red wolves and overgrown scorpions beneath that would surely snap me up in a second. Judging from the land, I would be the first thing they'd have eaten for quite some time.
   It is still an interesting place to be, however. The ruins of the city of Thaurissan are to the northern part of this land, and I'd very much like to see it, if I can get close enough. The Dark Iron Dwarves, under the command of Emperor Thaurissan, summoned the Fire Lord, Ragnaros, in this area, and his summoning immolated the land and destroyed the city, including the Emperor himself, and created the Blackrock Mountain volcano. The mountain has been home to countless ill-doers over time, the most deadly of which was Nefarian, son of Deathwing, the Betrayer.
   Even the Searing Gorge and Burning Steppes themselves never existed before this event; they simply made up the great mountain chain of Redridge, though they have since thinned significantly due to Ragnaros' fury.
   I'd like to see the inside of the mountain, but I don't consider my fighting ability great enough to just walk into the stronghold of both Dwarf and Orc, especially of clans as vicious and cruel as those. I'll settle for the city's ruins for now, and head back some time during the Cold Season.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 26: Setting Back Out

3rd Day of Summer

   The past few days have been interesting, to say the least. The Dwarves hospitality hasn't waned in the slightest, but, as ever, instead it seems a little too much. There's a lot of food - I can only wonder just where they get it from in a place like this - and a few too many glances in my direction with a different kind of hunger to them. But, all in all, it's been relatively peaceful. After thwarting the Dark Iron's attempt at doing Ragnaros' bidding, the Dwarves say they've not had sight 'nor sound of them. It's presumed they're trying to correct their efforts and start over again, as they seem to have some perverse need to have and serve a fiery overlord, but I doubt I'll be around when time comes to shut their operation down again. It seems to be an ongoing battle, but I can understand why they choose not to take war directly to the Dark Irons. They don't have the numbers, and as far as I can tell from their vague responses whenever I ask, the other Dwarven Clans don't seem inclined to help.
   The Dwarves haven't just been hospitable, they've been educational as well. The blacksmith of the area, Burninate, showed me how to repair my armour, and even made me a new set. It fits far better than anything I had before, and it's darker in colour as well. Of course, how they figured out my size when they're surely used to working with Dwarven figures concerns me a bit. I was told by another Dwarf that the generous gift of their craft was a grand one indeed, because, though they were fighting their brethren, the were shrewd individuals and didn't offer their services for nothing very often at all.
   They also showed me how to make a weapon, and so the axe at my side now has been forged, in part, by myself. I don't have as much confidence in it as my previous weapon, but that belonged to my brother. It was a difficult decision to take it with me when I left, but I couldn't leave unarmed, and neither could I afford a new weapon just for me. Obviously I can't leave it behind so I will have to burden Styric with it. I was, however, able to sell them my previous armour. They said they doubted they could do much with it, so if they couldn't find a buyer, they might be able to reforge the metal. I didn't get much for it, but I hadn't payed for it anyway.
   They also showed me how to swing the axe properly, so I've learned a little self defence from these wonderful people, too. I have to admit, for a race not inclined towards the Horde at all, they've been more hospitable than anyone else I've come across.

   I plan to move off tomorrow, but I'm feeling a little reluctant. Summer has been setting in for some time now, and it's finally ticked over to officially changing season, but the heat in this area - and the areas surrounding it - are more than I feel I can handle. The volcanic mountain a few miles to the south is spewing ash and increased heat over the Searing Gorge, and I don't feel inclined to head towards it, though I wish to see the Burning Steppes and the ruins of Thaurissan, and the jungle of Stranglethorn Vale further south.
   I feel I may just have to suck it up and start moving, or I'll still be here in Midsummer. The heat makes one feel lazy, and it's not just me that has to move, afterall, though I think when the heat truly sets in, I'll have to walk and give Styric a bit of a rest.
   I'll set out tomorrow, either south of back to the east. Either way, I'm not going to be out of this heat in any hurry, and atleast there's water to the south. I just have to pass on through.

   Yes, I'll set out tomorrow.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 25: The Archduke

100th Day of Spring
   Everyone was still quiet in the morning, but some of the better-humoured Dwarves attempted to pick up everyone's spirits with jokes, and a few of the more serious ones stated quite firmly that Bani's death couldn't be in vain.
   This time we moved as a whole group, and I discovered that it was just the four Dwarves I was grouped with who were light on their feet. The rest were somewhat less careful.
   This didn't cause much of a problem, however, because there was nothing and no one to encounter for quite some time. It would have been a pleasant stroll if not for the dry, intense heat. Of course, when we did finally encounter something, it only worsened the heat.
   Fire Elementals.
   And we had to kill them.
   I've heard stories of elementals, but I'd never actually seen any as close as I did today. The closest I'd ever been is back in Hillsbrad two months ago, when I was sneaking around in Durnholde Keep. I don't recall what the elementals back there were embodiments of, but these were very definitely made of fire, and the only thing giving their 'bodies' form were a few lumps of molten rock. They were incredible. They radiated heat, almost too much to bear, but fortunately I was not killing them alone, so they dropped quickly.
   We were close to the bottom of the Slag Pit at this point, so Oilfist told us, and you could believe it. It was so intensely hot that I was surprised my sweat wasn't just steam, but what was not surprising was that the elementals remained in that part of the cavern rather than further up. They were likely quite at home there.
   I was soon told that at the deepest point of the cavern was Archduke Calcinder. I asked if we were going to be able to kill him, but they scoffed at me, then told me we wouldn't be killing him 'anyway' and that we were banishing him instead. They said, quite rightly I suppose, that the remaining Dwarves would be able to summon him back in no time if we were to kill him - which also made me realise that killing the other elementals was merely a way to remove them from our path, and that they still existed back in the Firelands.
   I can't count how many elementals were at the bottom of the Slag Pit, but once we truly reached the deepest point, I almost passed out. The water in our skins would have evaporated the day before had spells not been put on the skins themselves, so fortunately, we had plenty to drink, but whenever I wasn't drinking, I felt as though I might truly shrivel up and die. It was not an experience I'd like to have again.
   When we finally removed the last of the fire elementals, Oilfist gave one of the Dwarves a device. He said that this device would banish the Archduke, but, due to his certain strength, Calcinder would have to be weakened before he could possibly succumb to the device's power. And that job fell to the rest of us.
   We hydrated before taking on the strange-looking elemental - he was almost like a fire Naga. Being that he was surely of great elemental power, he could probably cook us all where we stood. The few casters among us - myself included, once I was shown the spell - shielded everyone else and ourselves against fire as best we could before committing, and I think we can all say that we're glad we did. The floor beneath our feet turned to magma while we fought, and if not for one caster's quick thinking, we'd have sank into it. Instead, we were kept afloat in the air, and continued to attack the Archduke, until, finally, he was banished.
   We didn't take long to celebrate our victory, because the heat and exhaustion from the fight would have surely killed us. We were teleported out as a group by the casters, and I swear I've never been so cold in my life. I don't know how deep the Slag Pit was, but I wish never to go to such a place again unless I can maintain a suit of ice around my skin. Many Dwarves, and myself included, collapsed on the ground as we came out. We rested there for what must have been half an hour before heading back to Thorium Point. Mountain-Lord Rendan and all of the Dwarves he had brought with him headed back South, towards Iron Summit, where they had come from, leaving the Thorium Brotherhood to head back to their own refuge. They were adamant to keep me with them, and I certainly wouldn't refuse. I'm still not so sure I'll be ready to travel for a few days after that exhausting work, and I had to admit that the heat had brought about a rather strong headache, and I was keen to sleep on my skins, rather than on hot stone.
   My head is still pounding, particularly around the area I hurt back in the Badlands, but I slept better last night than I had while in the earth. Though that was hardly surprising.
   Today should be a rested day, for all of us, but I believe they're conducting a funeral for poor Bani later in the afternoon, which I want to be a part of.
   I don't know when I'll leave and head on my way, but for now I'm content to stay here at Thorium Point, and the Dwarves seem to be happy to have me.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 24 - Twilight Lord Arkkus

98th Day of Spring
   Rather surprisingly, the theft of the pillows the day before had proven to be at least a little bit effective, because early that morning, as my small group set out once again with our new task, we came across several Dark Iron Dwarves who seemed to be overly sleep-deprived (perhaps a little too much for just one night, but maybe they just work that hard). Some of them walked right past us and didn't bat an eyelid, others were sleeping in chairs, and two of them even tried to borrow money off of one of the Thorium Dwarves for a gamble of some sort that was taking place immediately, judging by their haste. In fact, it seemed to have a more obvious effect than killing the slave driver, yesterday.
   Either way, we moved deeper into the Slag Pit. Once again, it was another assassination mission, but this target seemed to be of far higher standing, and his death might actually make a difference. His name was Overseer Maltorius.
   We sneaked as best as we could through the dry, hot darkness, and freed more slaves as we passed them. They seemed to be even more sleep deprived than the previous Dwarves, and I can't help wondering if it was due to the lack of a slave driver. Perhaps they could only sleep when he allowed them, and if he wasn't about to give the order to rest, maybe they wouldn't. I suppose it would make sense, but for them to be too scared to sleep unless they're told they could paints the picture of pure brutality. What did that Dwarf do to them to make them so afraid of him?
   It took a few hours once again - I really can't describe how huge this place is - and after passing by a shocking site of lava - I've never seen such a thing before, just pure liquid fire if such a thing is possible, and the heat that rose up from that chasm was more intense than I could have imagined - we met up with another Dwarf, named Hansel. He was supposed to meet us here to help take this guy down on the off chance that he had more in his arsenal than we expected - afterall, the slave driver had a Golem, so what would the Overseer have? Well, he had someone, certainly.
   Hansel wasn't worried, but he did mention that, if not for this extra person, he'd probably have attacked by himself. I'm glad he didn't. I was told by my brother when I was younger that Ego was the one thing that was guaranteed to get you killed.
   Hansel told us that the second individual was the Twilight Lord Arkkus, and that he would not go down without a fight. None of us knew what he was doing there for certain, but it confirmed the Dwarves' suspicions that the Dark Irons had thrown their lot in with the Twilight Cult.
   We were as quiet as we could be, getting into position to attack, but the Twilight Lord - a Night Elf, of all things - was onto us quickly. He spoke up and told us he knew we were there, and to come out peacefully so that he could offer us to his 'master'. We never found out who that master was, because before he could divulge any more, Bani, the stoutest and most aggressive of the Dwarves I'd been partnered with these past few days, charged at him. Even now my eyes well up thinking about how foolhardy he was to charge straight at him. The Night Elf stepped aside and Bani ran right over the edge. He yelled as he fell, but it was one of fury, cursing the Elf.
   Following this loss, the other Dwarves charged at the Twilight Lord and the Overseer, and I had no choice but to back them up. None of them went over the edge, though they all did suffer some minor magical wounds.
   I'm not a mage, but I know how to weave a few spells. I am a Blood Elf, after all. I was able to distract the Night Elf with a few carefully placed spells - merely conjured shadows that made it seem as though more Dwarves were charging from a dark corner - and the Dwarves were able to exact their vengeance and complete the mission. I won't go into detail over what they did, but in the end, both the Twilight Lord and Overseer Maltorius resembled something similer to Alterac Swiss. My stomach turns just thinking about it.
   I hope that tomorrow will be easier. I don't know what the time was when we made camp at the next rondezvous, but everyone was quiet. I don't mean to sound insensitive but I cannot help thinking that none of these Dwarves expected to lose anyone down here. Still, I'm saddned by our loss. Despite being the most aggressive of the lot, he was also the first to laugh. And that laugh was contagious.
   He'll be missed.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 23 - The Slag Pit

97th Day of Spring
   Today we had an early start. While we had camped in The Cauldron all night, we still wanted to be on the move quickly and quietly. Numerous suggestions for dealing with the Dark Iron Dwarves had been floating around all morning; some were good, some were...just awful. One such proposal would have us sneak into their sleeping quarters and stealing their pillows! Fortunately, these Dwarves have enough sense to know that that wouldn't be a long-term solution (though they did eventually send some other Dwarves down to steal the pillows anyway - every little helps, I suppose), and have decided on something more...permanent.
   This time, they wanted me to go down and kill a slave driver. At the very least, this was something I could get on board with. I was partnered with a few Dwarves - who were surprisingly light on their feet for such heavily built beings -  and we headed into the Slag pit.
   The first thing I noticed was how stiflingly hot and smelly it was down there. Everything smelled like fire. I had thought it was hot outside, but inside it was worse. I was sweating within minutes. The Dwarves held up much better than I did, but I suppose that, being of Dark Iron descendants, whether they're happy to admit it or not, does give them some resilience to such heat.
   We were down there for hours. While our primary goal was to kill the slave driver, we were also secondarily supposed to be freeing slaves. But that's where things got odd. I have no idea if some of these 'slaves' were actually volunteers, or if their lives outside of the mine were just that bad, because a handful of them were so desperate not to leave that they attacked us on sight. It was sheer madness. The Dwarves who were with me were actually a little upset about the ordeal. I can understand, of course: we were trying to save them, not get them killed. But if people don't want your help, there's nothing you can do. Except perhaps hog-tie them and drag them out to safety.
   We must have freed a few hundred before we found the slave driver. He wasn't much special, though he did have a huge Golem at his side. I admit now to being very grateful that the four Dwarves were with me, because I was almost crushed by that Golem several times, and I really don't know how I could have taken that thing down. But the Dwarves knew their way around such constructs, and were able to disable it. Not that I can fathom any idea as to how it was 'alive' in the first place.
   By the time we got to the rondezvous point further in, night had probably fallen. Inside the Slag Pit it was impossible to tell what time it was. It could have only been midday, and it was just the scorching, burning heat that was making me so drowsy and causing the hours to drag on for so long, but whatever the case, we were given another task. Mercifully, it was easy.
   We were to continue ahead and scout the location around the corner for a safe, secluded place to make camp so that they wouldn't be spotted. I really don't mean to be racially insensitive, but one Dark Iron Dwarf looks the same as another, so I really don't see how the majority of them could be recognised. They'd all dressed as Dark Iron Dwarves - dusty and dark - so that would surely make it harder. I, on the other hand, would stick out like a sore Troll thumb, so I am grateful for the cover all the same, and that leads me to wonder if it wasn't, in fact, for my own benefit.
   We soon found a spot in a dark corner of a craggy room that had surely been ignored for some time, going by the thickness of the dust and ash. I'm not looking forward to sleeping here tonight, in all honesty, but I've got no choice. I wonder if this is going to take long.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 22 - The Cauldron

96th Day of Spring
   I was put to the test today. I was sent down into the fiery pit called The Cauldron and was charged with killing the foreman. I managed easily enough. I'm far lighter on my feet than a Dwarf, so I managed to sneak up on him, despite being somewhat more fair-skinned than the land around me, and being twice his height. I killed him easily, and while I didn't feel good about it, if this will help end the threat of the Dark Irons - who pester the Horde and the Alliance - then we will all be better off if I make these sacrifices.
   When I got back up to Overseer Oilfist I was told that we would be heading inside of the mine. There was another Dwarf with him, ashen-skinned, as the others, but seemed to be of equal standing to Oilfist. He said his name was Mountain-Lord Rendan, but he made it clear that while he was not of a mind to side with the Dark Irons, neither was he siding with the Thorium Brotherhood. Apparently, it was an allegience through convenience, nothing more. And if anyone else can understand that, I believe it's my people.
   Some of the other Dwarves had managed to secure the entrance to the mine, so we should be able to get inside easily enough, but what we're supposed to do when we're in there, I don't know. I can only assume that the Dwarves have some secretive plans they're not telling me about just yet.
   On another note, I've noticed some of the Dwarves giving me lingering looks. While I am glad that they're not hositle in nature, I'm not so sure I like their meaning. Still, better that than trying to kill me, I suppose.

 -- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 21: The Thorium Brotherhood

95th Day of Spring
   I awoke to a strange and startling sight this morning. I had been camped on what I thought was simply a natural depression some distance up a hillside, and had slept relatively well for it, if you disregard the heat of the land. But I woke early to a shuffling sound right next to my head, and then a voice with a thick accent spoke in a whisper. I became alert immediately since that particular accent almost guaranteed combat - though I was admittedly somewhat compromised what with my lack of armour (among other things). In my defence, the heat is stifling, and far from what I'm used to.
   I leapt to my feet, reached for the sword a few feet away and prepared myself. Oh, how I cringe thinking back to how I must have looked.
   Fortunately (I think), the two ashen-skinned Dwarves who were now looking up at me were grinning somewhat bashfully, and showed that they were unarmed. One of them was good enough to toss me the blanket I had neglected that night and I made myself decent, and then they began to introduce themselves (though I kept relatively guarded throughout).
   They were Dark Irons, that much was certain, but they weren't aggressive. They said that they were part of a group called the Thorium Brotherhood, and that they had split away from the other Dark Iron Dwarves some time ago.
   They took me and Styric back to their camp, which just so happened to be further up that same hill - not too much further, however. In truth, that natural depression was probably quite visible from there. They then fed me and my horse, but perhaps a little too much. I think both Styric and I shared a moment - neither one of us wanted to continue eating, but with a Dwarf's nature towards food, we didn't know if it would be rude to stop or not. Though I'm sure I just imagined that in Styric's eyes. She is a horse, afterall.
   Either way, they soon stopped shovelling food in front of us, and began asking me questions. I had expected that, but I had also expected them to be a little more prying in nature. They actually just seemed generally curious as to why I was there.
   I told them that I was just passing through, but one of them - one with a significantly louder beard - was eyeing me a little more suspiciously. I didn't have to wait long to find out why, however.
   Not an hour later, he called me to one side - they were all addressing me as Lady Sunleaf, and despite my insistance that the title wasn't deserved, they continue to do so even now. Apparently just being Elven is enough to consider me of noble blood. This Dwarf, Oilfist he said his name was, asked for my help. He explained their position towards the other Dark Iron Dwarves, and that the Dark Irons were, as ever, trying to bolster the ranks of Ragnaros, and do the fiery Lord's bidding.
   After his explanation of the status of the two factions, he asked me for my help. I tried to explain to him that I'm not a warrior, a spy, or anything else of any recognisable talent or use to their situation, and that the only thing I could lay any claim to would be the playing of the lute, but he wouldn't listen. So now I've gotten myself caught up again, and this time in a far stickier situation. At least in Uldaman we had walls around us. Out in the 'Cauldron' as they've been calling it, I won't feel so safe.
   But they're feeding me, their giving me a bed, and even repairing my dented armour (it got damaged after I slid down a hill near 'old' Kargath with next to no control over my direction, except generally downwards). And I'm not the only one here with a weapon so I won't be entirely on my own. I suppose the situation could be worse, and I think I owe them something, even if it isn't much.
   We'll see. They want my help heading down into the area tomorrow, so I had better rest up.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 20: The Searing Gorge

94th Day of Spring
   As soon as we reached the surface again, and they payed me generously for my time, I left the Reliquary and headed west into the Searing Gorge. The journey was long and difficult, so I had little chance to update my journal, but I had little to say anyway. The entire pass was riddled with black dragonkin - whelps, drakonids and a fully grown black dragon. I managed to slip past them - fortunately I'm small and pale enough to have been completely unnoticed - and soon reached the border, but it made for some tense and sleepless nights.
   As soon as I crossed that threshold, the land began to blacken, and sand and dust seem to be little more than coarse ash. Despite this, I feel safer now than I did around those dragons.
   I found a small camp a few days ago, consisting of Dwarves and an Ogre. I slipped past them just as carefully. The Dwarves had skin as ashen as the land, and could only have been Dark Iron Dwarves, which was unsurprising in this territory.
   About three hundred years ago, both the Searing Gorge and the Burning Steppes to the south had been a part of the Redridge Mountains, and home to the Dark Iron Dwarven clan. Their leader, Emporer Thaurissan, launched an attack on the other two Dwarven clans, but when it became apparent that he would lose, he chose to summon Ragnaros, the Fire Lord, and use him as his servant in battle.
   Needless to say, Ragnaros is not one to be ordered around, and once he was summoned, his burning presence immediately incinerated the land and anyone nearby, and created the volcano known as Blackrock Mountain. Even as I write this, I can see it to the south, a constant plume of smoke and ash rising from its peak.
   Everything I know of this place I have gleaned from books. I'm hoping that I'll be able to see some of these landmarks for myself, and get some new accounts of what happened from anything that has survived.
   If not venture into the mountain myself.

   Either way, so far I am a day into this burned region. I am not sure that there are any Horde camps anywhere nearby, so I think I will have to make my own bed when night falls once again. I think I've grown a little too used to company in Uldaman. Despite its dangers, I had been forced to interact with the same people every day for a week and a half, and, I suppose, after leaving my home as suddenly as I did, I am only noticing what I've given up after having a taste of it.
   Well, if I want to go back, I know the route. But I'm still heading forwards, so that must mean something. I've traversed just over half of the continent so far, and I have no plans to head backwards now. Especially not when I'm in such a historically rich area.
   Everyone's allowed a weakness, right?

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 19: The Discs of Norgannon

83rd Day of Spring
   We found the vault.
   And we found the discs.
   They are enormous. The Titans had chiselled their secrets into enormous platinum discs, and certainly none of us can read it. There are suggestions that someone in Dalaran may be able to, but I am skeptical. As wise and wonderous as the Dalaran mages are, I do not believe that they possess the necessary knowledge. I can think of no one living that would. Unless, of course, the Prophet still lives.
   There was also a...I have no idea what to call it. A sort of virtual intelligence that was able to communicate with us and explain some of the workings of the Titans. While I had already known that the Dwarves were simply a variation of the Earthen, I did not know that the Troggs were, too. The Dwarves were considered an acceptable variation and allowed to exist, but the Troggs were not, so they were locked away. I don't know if they were simply contained or whether they were killed or put to sleep, but, well, they're very much present these days.
   What was most surprising, however, was the fact that there was treasure in the vault. For the life of me, I cannot fathom why the Titans would hoard gold and jewels and, would you believe, weapons. It's almost certain that we are not the first ones here. The door was firmly shut, with no Troggs anywhere near it, and I don't think the Earthen would have done it, but who else could have? The weaponry and armour is of a size too small for a Titan - of course, I cannot say for certain how large they are - so I don't think they'd have even made it, let alone used it.
   It's something that the diggers are brushing off. I suppose that, as long as they have the discs, they're happy. And it doesn't affect me any that the treasure is here. I followed suit of the other mercenaries and filled my pockets. It's so dusty that it's not as if the person who put it there will be back for it any time soon. I watched the others pick out pieces of armour and weapons, but none of it was built to fit a person of my...figure, so I've had to go without. The weapons are equally as unfriendly, either too heavy or too strange for me to use.

   I have got to admit, however, that I am somewhat overwhelmed by this place. I have set foot within one of the three most significant Titan ruins - and lived - and helped recover one of the single most important artifacts for life on this planet. There is little I will do in life that will top this experience.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 18: Archaedas

82nd Day of Spring
   Since I've been in here, I'd only seen a gentle downwards slope, with the occasional sudden drop where the original structure has sunk, but over the last two days, we've been going steadily downwards, descending a slope which was built at a definite gradient.
   The passage seems to go down for miles, with most of the hallways clear of debris, but we have had to stop and clear the way a couple of times. If not for that, I think the archaeologists would likely sprint all the way down there, killing anything in their way with a forceful shove, until they found what they were after.
   I have no idea what to expect to find down there, if we're even able to reach the bottom. We could hit a solid wall that would take weeks to break through, and I'm not so sure I can keep myself hanging around here. As much as I would love to see the contents of the ultimate vault in this place, I am just as eager to move onwards.
   We have found scattered statues throughout the ruin, particularly down in these untouched halls. For the most part, as far as we can tell, they depict what are supposedly the first five races of the world - Earthen, Mountain Giants, Sea Giants, Trolls and Tauren. It appears that the latter two were either the first to evolve, or were the first free races, not charged with assisting or defending Azeroth. I'm a little surprised to see those two races in the list, but I suppose they have all been around since at least as far back as the War of the Ancients.

   Once again, I am being called to dig, and the diggers are all acting a little insane, as if they were dogs who could see their dinner on the other side of their cage bars, so I had better get to it.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

   Words cannot describe what we have just encountered. We are almost certainly near the vault chamber. We broke through into a huge circular room, lined with dormant Earthen. It sent chills up my spine - their  eyes moved. Despite the fact that they did not react to our presence in the same manner that the other Earthen we have encountered so far have, I couldn't help feeling particularly unsafe.
   Of course, that might have had something to do with the enormous stone giant in the centre of the room. I cannot tell what is truly stone from what is simply asleep!
   Some of the archaeologists ran towards a stone pedestal stood before this giant, and began to channel some kind of magic into it, and before long, that very same stone monstrosity came to life. It killed one of the archaeologists immediately, and badly wounded another, but myself and the other mercenaries leapt to their defence as quickly as we could. It took a long time, and it was exhausting work, but we managed to bring it down. Though not before it awoke some of the dormant Earthen to attack us, too.
   We cannot venture onwards tonight after that attack. I am having a hard time adjusting to the fact that one of the archaeologists died, and I blame myself. I know that I shouldn't - none of us, not even the more seasoned warriors, had expected that thing to suddenly come to life and kill so easily. But it is something that I will carry with me forever.
   We will rest here tonight. Then we will continue onwards. Half of the diggers are practically foaming at the mouths, but the leader of the expedition has ordered them to stay put. It'll be interesting to see whether they do or not.

-- Atherya Sunleaf               

Entry 17: The Descent

80th Day of Spring
   I was right: I had heard a noise last night. Not three minutes after closing my journal did a group of stone Dwarves jump out and attack us. These Earthen were prepared to die to protect this place, and they had come out through a half buried door, I assume, earlier in the day. We cleared the rock away from that door today and headed inside. It was a huge corridor with the usual blueish-green hue that most Titan ruins I've heard of so far favour, and, sure as they told me, the corridor was just a bit dusty. There were old cobwebs draped over the walls, and there were a few bats in there - where they came in and left from, I don't know, but there is clearly a way for life to sustain itself within these deeply buried walls.
   This is the third day of the excavation, so the group have told me we'll probably head back out tomorrow unless they make a huge find today. If they don't, then I don't think I'll hang around. Once we reach the surface, I'll leave the Badlands and head west to the Searing Gorge. As exciting as it would be to be here when they find the disc, the fact that they've been digging in this place for so long implies that they'll probably be at it for some time longer before they find what they're looking for. Still, it's been amazing to not only see such an enormous Titan ruin - likely the biggest one I'll ever get to see - but it has been incredible to see its constructs still roaming around the halls, both Golems and Earthen, protecting the vault's contents.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

   I had to add more to this journal today. Just as the group were about to pack up for the night, one of the diggers opened up a huge door which was far different to the others. This one had carvings all over it, and it really stood out from the rest. It was incredible. We managed to open it - myself included - and the corridor beyond took a very sudden downwards route. We went down a little way, and the group is convinced that we're close. They've said that we're going to stay here for a time longer just to see if it's worth resurfacing yet, and fortunately we have a Mage with us who can conjure food. I've never tried conjured food, but if it's all we have, I won't be picky.
   I'm really excited, but I realise how foolish it is to think that the one time I am here, they will find what they're looking for. Still, one can't help but hope. How incredible would it be to be a part of this disc's discovery?
   Once again, I'll leave it here. I'm actually being called on to help shift some rubble, so they must really think we're close if they're impatient enough to get their 'guardians' in on the dirty work.
   But I must keep reminding myself not to get my hopes up. Even if these professionals who probably know when it's worth getting excited are.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 16: Uldaman

79th Day of Spring

   We headed into Uldaman yesterday morning at dawn. They'd already cleared a lot of the place; they didn't stop to look for artefacts in most of the initial chambers. We travelled until midday or so (I think) until the group I had accompanied had finally slowed down and began digging and searching. Speaking to one of the group, I found out that they've been digging this place out for a few years already, and that most chambers are perfectly accessible, they just need the means to enter. I had just assumed that these sorts of ruins filled with rock in the same way that things get fossilised - but that's just not the case. Rock doesn't just start to develop out of thin air. Instead, it's the caved-in passage ways and what were once possibly open-rooved paths that need excavating and clearing, but the denizens that dwelled within - Troggs and Dwarves alike - before they were displaced (what they mean by that, I don't know) had done a relatively good job of maintaining the place, minimizing the work needed.

   I also found out something quite alarming, and I wish I had spoken up sooner about it: these people seem to think I'm here to protect them. Fortunately, there are a few other individuals here who are more up to the task, so it's not down to me and me alone, but I wish I hadn't just gone along with it from the beginning just to get in here.

   The others have all gone to bed now, aside from another individual who is here to guard the place with me for the time being until we can sleep, so I'm free to update my diary. Which is clearly what I am doing.

   There were more carvings in here, similar to those in the Tomb of the Watchers - giants with children, continuing the suggestion of creation - and there are all kinds of constructs, too. I gathered a little information on the place from one of the diggers, and he told me that Uldaman is a vault that supposedly houses the secrets of the creation of the living races. In the deepest, darkest depths of the vault, the information is supposedly stored, encrypted in a language long forgotten, onto a disc, as was the way of the Titans. Of course, if no one remembers the language, then I don't see how we could read it, and that only further leads me to ask just why exactly we need it. But I suppose it's better that we have it than someone who can read it has. The last thing the world needs is someone creating life for themselves that will serve as an army. Was Arthas not bad enough with his legions of the Dead?

   I'll stop this entry here. I think I heard a noise, and I am supposed to be on guard right now.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 15: The Reliquary

77th Day of Spring

   I couldn't sit around much longer. I'd been conscious for four days already with no tweaks of pain or other signs of injury aside from headaches, but the medic assigned to me refused to let me out of my bed. What I admit was most surprising about the medic was that I was surprised to be surprised to see them. But, given Goblins' somewhat explosive reputation, I suppose that having medics on hand are pretty important in their...professions.

   Either way, I left Fuselight yesterday and made my way towards the Reliquary camp that had been set up on a cliff near to the ruin. I managed to sneak past the tinkers about an hour or two before dawn, who seem to work throughout the night on ever more things that explode, on shifts, like keeping everyone from sleeping was the most important thing in the world, and after a couple more hours I was at the camp. It didn't take too much in the way of convincing; when I told them that I had been to the Tomb of the Watchers, the other ruin nearby, they just naturally assumed that I hadn't caused a cave-in and allowed me to join them. We're setting off down there tomorrow, and they say that the expedition will take a couple of days. Apparently they go down there for a few days each week, collect field notes and any artifacts they can find, then come back up to the surface to sort them, sketch out the items, and write out more detailed notes based on overall findings.

   I have a great growing passion for this sort of thing, but I don't believe that I have any sort of academic mind. I'd love to join the Reliquary if just to set foot into numerous ancient ruins, and handle these incredibly old artifacts that no one has used or even touched in an infathomable length of time. But I don't think I could offer anything to any research. I can't keep my mind focused on one thing for long enough. Even as I travel through these lands, and try to take it all in, I'm still thinking about where to go next, and what that place is like.

   I thought I knew a lot about the world - how it looked, the landmarks, the history. But it seems that I know more about what the world used to be rather than what it is. I'm coming across landscapes that I had never thought possible, like this dusty place, and places that are incredibly diseased and dying, and they are all either products of natural chaos, or of sentient beings.

   I'm enjoying the lessons I'm gaining from my travels, but I'm beginning to feel more and more that I'm in over my head and had expected the world to be rainbows and rabbits from the off. But I still wouldn't return if I had the chance. I'm sure I will in time, but that won't be yet. I need to educate myself on how the world works, what its become in recent years, which have surely seen the most drastic and sudden changes, and just exactly how to defend myself. I've picked up plenty of things from people in towns and settlements (though nothing that could help me combat a cave-in), and I'm gradually feeling a little more confident. As I'm sure you can tell from my hasty decision to run into another ruin, which, I'm told, most definitely has denizens.

   Still, I'm finding the prospect of danger more and more exciting.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 14: Rescued

75th Day of Spring
   I don't remember a thing that happened in that ruin. My head is ringing, my ribs and right shoulder are wounded, and I woke up two days ago in a bed back in Fuselight only to find that three days have passed since I was brought here by a Mage. A member of the Reliquary was beside my bed when I woke up, and she told me what happened, at least from what they'd seen. Apparently, I was caught in a cave-in in an area that should have been stable, with a small figurine that matched the larger constructs in my hand. I don't know if I picked it up, or if it just happened to land in my hand during the cave-in. I'm sure I didn't pick anything up - I certainly had no intentions to, I was only looking - but at the same time, something landing in my hand and my fingers coiling around it just by chance seems too convenient.
   I can't say that I am a completely honest person, so it's possible that I did pick it up even after promising not to - some rules are made to be broken - so I'm not completely sure. I'd remember if I saw it again, but apparently they kept it at the digsite.
   The woman who I spoke with wasn't the one to have found me, or even brought me here. Apparently some Paladin heard the cave-in and found me before anyone else did. He carried me out, brought me here and healed me before venturing off somewhere else. I wonder who he was - but the odds of ever coming across him again are slim, so I suppose I should just forget about it before I begin to dwell and form some romanticised attachment to an image of a knight in shining armour. This woman said that he didn't even leave his name.
   Either way, I would desperately love to go back to that site, but I doubt that the High Examiner would let me back in after the damage I seem to have caused. It has certainly only further peaked my interest in the Titans, however, and I've found out about a much larger ruin to the north called Uldaman. Perhaps, when my injuries recover (and they seem to be at a fast rate), I may be able to head down there instead, assuming I can convince that expedition team to allow me along.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

Entry 13: Tomb of The Watcher

69th Day of Spring

   This place is amazing. The Reliquary - an archaeological organisation created by my own people to uncover magical artifacts - have set up a base beside the digsite, which appears to be a Titan ruin. After much begging and bargaining, for which I do not feel the slightest bit of embarrassment, I was finally allowed to come down here if I promised not to touch anything.
   It's incredible. There are two huge constructs - their purposes are unknown to me as of yet - and there are Trogg skeletons here, too, half buried in the rubble. Troggs are often found in sites like these, though I can't imagine why. They surely wouldn't know what to do with any artifacts, and the only idea I have is that it's simply a place to live, what with pre-built walls and the like. There's no work that needs doing but gathering food.
   The halls are in relatively good shape, aside from a few minor cave-ins. The carvings on the walls are particularly beautiful, but I have to wonder at their purpose. The Troggs wouldn't have created them, and I doubt they could even appreciate them, but I was always under the impression that the Titans hadn't lingered; they'd created us and moved on. Ours is only one of many worlds that they have had their hand in, afterall. Looking around this place makes me wonder at just how long they were here and what they were really like, as a race. Creating life is likely an art form, so it's also likely that they could appreciate creativity and beauty.
   The carvings depict two people, male and female, sat opposite from one another. The female is holding two small children, and there are two small animals at their feet. The most obvious thing to assume as that it depicts the Titans with their 'children' - meaning us. The races they created to populate this planet. Whether the animals are simply cattle, or are suggesting at more animalistic races such as the Tauren, I don't know. Most of the carvings depict similar scenes, but at the time of their carving, the world didn't work like this. It likely signifies their intention of our world.
   There is no obvious technology here like there is in other ruins, but this only appears to be a small vault - though I fail to believe that there is none of their technology here, given what it likely contained. Either it's not been found yet, or it's already been claimed. The Explorer's league are also here, so I'm not sure which of the two would have claimed it - not that I'd be allowed to see it even if it was the Reliquary who had it.
   I'm going to go further into the ruins tomorrow and see what I can find. I would love to find something before the other teams do - not to claim it as my own, but simply to experience the discovery for myself. I'm really thoroughly enjoying this place.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

The Diary of Atherya Sunleaf - Entry 12: The Badlands

68th Day of Spring

   Loch Modan appeared pleasant enough, but I didn't have much time to look around. Dwarven sentries were on our tail from more or less the moment we began to ride on that first morning, and they chased us through the night. They were on us quickly, there must have been sentries near the border, patrolling against the Orcs, and some short fool sounded the alarm - whether at myself, or at some Orcs that may have followed me afterall, I don't know, but they pursued me right through the region. No matter; both Styric and I are unharmed. To my knowledge, they were only firing warning shots, and given that I didn't stop to engage them once, I don't think they'd have truly tried to kill me so soon.

   They left us alone once we reached the southern border, which was fortunate, because I hadn't anticipated the enormous chasm which had opened up, I assume, during the Shattering. Styric was very hesitant to begin the descent, but I managed to ease her down with a few gentle words. It took us two hours to navigate the steep path, and I dismounted early on for the mare's sake. I admit that it was actually quite an exciting experience, walking through the earth which had been covered up for goodness knows how many millennia.

   When we reached the summit of the path, though, I was shocked. I've never seen any such land that looks like this before. The landscape is so dry and arid, dust is stirred with every footstep, and th eonly life at first glance appears to be tough desert grass, cougers, coyotes and scavenger birds. But the life here, at least, is sparse due to the natural location, as opposed to anything caused by any superior race. The more I think about it, the more I believe I have been mentall scarred by the Plague's effects on the land.

   I continued through the Badlands and found numerous Black Dragons. Theirs is a tragic story that I have real interest in, and one that probably could not have been avoided. Being the Aspect of the Earth, it is not surprising that Neltharion became corrupted by the Old Gods imprisoned beneath Azeroth.

   I'm staying in a Goblin town called Fuselight, which is...well, they're a very odd race and I haven't slept too well since getting here. There are often random explosions throughout the night, always followed by cheers and a strange high-pitched horn, and each morning there are Goblins using goodness knows what to blast goats off of the cliff. It's a real wonder that any of them survive.

   While I've been here, however, I have heard of a digsite nearby. I'm going to check it out soon - hopefully it will be more interesting than the digsite in the Wetlands.

-- Atherya Sunleaf              

The Diary of Atherya Sunleaf - Entry 11: Dun Algaz

63rd Day of Spring

   It took me almost a full day to pass through Dun Algaz, and when I say 'full day' I mean sunrise to sunrise; a full turn of the stars. I awoke suddenly yesterday morning to the sound of Orcs. They were near to my camp. At first I thought little of it until I noticed their unfamiliar accent. They didn't sound like any Orcs I'd ever met, as few as they may be.

   Then I remembered some stories I'd heard in the inn the night before: Dragonmaw Orcs roamed these mountains, capturing dragon whelps like they did in the Second War. Still  clinging to their past.

   The Dragonmaw Orcs are a part of the Horde now, but I'd heard whispers that they couldn't be completely trusted, so rather than stick around to find out how friendly they were, I packed up my camp as quickly as I could, leapt onto Styric's back and rode away as fast as she could carry us.

   Perhaps we were too fast, or too loud (stealth has never been my strong point), because before we'd travelled even fifteen feet there were Orcish shouts behind us.

   Crossbow bolts shot past me, and a few hit my back and shoulder. I had gathered this armour for protection against the Alliance, but at this point they seemed more hospitable than races of my own affiliation!

   They threw ropes and nets, likely used to catch dragon whelps, and began aiming at Styric when I refused to suffer injury. Just about everything missed - a full grown horse is likely somewhat faster than a dragon child - but at one point Styric's back legs did get tangled in a rope they'd thrown. I'll count the stars, I don't know how she did it, but this clever mare managed to get untangled in seconds and ran even faster afterwards.

   We're clear of Dun Algaz now, and in the vicinity of Loch Modan. I don't feel too much safer here - a Kal'dorei isn't a Dwarf, afterall. But regardless of the time of day, and location, we both need to rest.

-- Atherya Sunleaf