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#11890265 Dec 23, 2015 at 03:12 PM
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79 Posts
((OOC - This will contain some backdated journals entries covering important events in Reigns' life as well as more recent events and more going forward))


--INTRO--

On a bookshelf in one of the Common Areas of the Westridge Garrison sets an old leather journal. What was once prime grade leather is weathered and worn from travel abroad. Embossed on the cover is the now barely visible image of two stags, their antlers entwined in combat. The first page reads:


"Property of Thomas Reignsford
Dedicated to the memories of Edmond, Jillian, and Shana Reignsford
May the Light and Nature embrace you."


Flipping through the pages, you often see notes, doodles, and half-finished thoughts. Some pages are illegible due to smears, stains, or water damage. Pages appear ripped out in a few places and others are ear-marked leading to the belief that they contain something of importance to the writer and are possibly revisited from time to time.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11900960 Dec 28, 2015 at 02:04 PM · Edited 6 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
October 23rd, 624 K.C.


News has reached me of renewed activity at the Dark Portal. Orcs are pouring into the Blasted Lands in numbers not seen since the First War. Nethergarde Keep is in shambles. Stories tell of an Orcish Vanguard that pushed its way straight to Blackrock Mountain. It's just like the tales Dad told me when I was a child. This is why I joined the First Regiment all those years ago, yet here I am, retired, enjoying my days with my son and my sister.

I can't sit around and watch history repeat itself. I have to go back. As a Knight, I still have a duty to uphold. I took an oath to protect the duchy and the kingdom and you can't just walk away from that. Kaiser and Fiona must be kept safe from the danger these orcs pose. I'll ride out to Westridge in the morning and seek audience with the Lord-Marshal. I hope they understand. I'm going back.







October 24th, 624 K.C.


I spoke with Lord Montclair, he welcomed me back into the regiment at the rank of Corporal due to my prolonged absence. But he told me of a new order of Rangers he wants me to join. The Rangers of Mirwood. Though he did not say it, I think he knew I felt out of place within the Musketeers.

The Regiment is deploying to the Portal soon. I am to join them on the march as soon as I gather my belongings and requisition the garb of a Ranger. I will leave Tullius behind with the family to help guard them in my absence. I'll miss them all.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11919860 Jan 04, 2016 at 11:54 AM
Officer
79 Posts
November 18th, 624 K.C.


The siege at the Dark Portal has been broken for nearly a week. A small strike team from both the Alliance and the Horde has gone forward to set up a base of operations. It's amazing how well we can work together when the world is in peril, but then and only then. Once the peril is vanquished, it's back to the old rivalries and heated tensions. It's not the first time, certain it won't be the last.

Alliance and Horde camps remain separated while we wait. Commanders and Officers are doing a damned fine job of keeping us from killing each other. One wrong move by a soldier or grunt is all it would take. Hope the strike team can accomplish their mission.





November 20th, 624 K.C.


Blessed Light! Portals have opened. One for us and one for them. The schism has already begun anew...

Portals. Blast do I hate the queasy feeling after stepping through one.

Draenor, not Outland. I'm told this is what the Orc homeworld looked like before it was torn asunder. Some mage from the Kirin Tor tried to explain something about a portal through time and space into the past, but I was too in awe of our surroundings. A Draenei ambassador said we're in Shadowmoon Valley, not the felfire and ashen wasteland I knew, but a lush woodland draped in a perpetual violet hue. If there's an afterlife, this is what I would have imagined. The initial camp is a small tent-city but already engineers pour in with stone and mortar to fortify our position. We're on guard duty until further notice.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11920125 Jan 04, 2016 at 01:20 PM
Officer
79 Posts
November 30th, 624 K.C.


Hostilities have occurred with a local clan of orcs called the Shadowmoon Clan. They are one of the many clans that make up this Iron Horde that assaulted our world. Plans are in the making to assault their stronghold soon. The Shadowmoon's ability to wield Shadow magic far surpasses anything we've encountered to date. But with the Light's help, I know we will prevail.

On a related note, while escorting some lumberjacks today, we encountered some sentient plant-like beings with a profound capability to control the plants and trees around us. Fortunately, they are highly susceptible to fire and cutting them down like timber. Locals call them the Botani. Not even the very forest I'm come to enjoy is safe now. We will need to be extra vigilant on patrols from now on.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11920439 Jan 04, 2016 at 03:07 PM
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79 Posts
December 21st, 624 K.C.


The Shadowmoon Clan's power base has been destroyed. It has been determined they no longer pose a viable threat. To that, the assault yielded intel on the location of the Blackrock Foundry, the manufacturing location for all of the Iron Horde's siege equipment and the training grounds for the bulwark of their forces. Aside from a small contingent to remain in Shadowmoon to protect the garrison, all forces are to mobilize into Gorgrond immediately.





December 23rd, 624 K.C.


A few days hard march and we've entered Gorgrond. Would have been easier by sea but we don't have Fleet support yet, they're still building the docks and the ships. We had to march through a region called Talador, a temperate and vibrant land that seems to be the crossroad to the many other regions, it's also home to the Draenei capital city, Shattrath. We left another small contingent to begin building a base as I'm sure we'll return at some point. HQ is preemptively calling it, Fort Wrynn.

Gorgrond is a very unique area. The southern half is a lush forest. You can't step five feet without walking into a tree or bush. Meanwhile, the northern half is barren, rocky wasteland with not a tree to be seen for miles. The Rangari tell us this whole area is an endless battle ground between the Botani and their Genesaur overlords in the south against the Goren and their Gronn masters to the north.

I've felt the forest watching us, waiting. At least now I know I wasn't just paranoid. Boy do I miss having Tullius by my side.

The Regiment will be celebrating Winter's Veil in the field this year... hooray.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11925792 Jan 06, 2016 at 09:26 AM · Edited over 5 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
December 28th, 624 K.C.


Things have been quiet in the camp these past few days. The Alliance Army, led by the Dwarven Vanguard of Ironforge, awaits the arrival of siege equipment before pressing on towards the Blackrock Foundry to the north.

In standard fashion, this peace and quiet didn't last long. A civilian sent out a cry for help. The Army's Corps of Engineers had sent out some Shredders to clear a path through the forest with minimal to no armed escort as the Shredders are often deemed "combat capable". Well, that's only true if the damned thing works. Guessing the Shredder got overworked and shutdown just in time to be attacked by the Botani. No doubt they were pissed about their trees being chopped down.

One dead Botani and some squashed plants later, all is well again. Only one thing bothers me this time round. I saw first hand the results of losing to the Botani. Guarding the Botani were two hulking green abominations. Looked like a Dire Troll sent through the meat grinder and came out still swinging. Gonna be a few tough nights of sleep for sure.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#11926104 Jan 06, 2016 at 11:03 AM
Officer
79 Posts
January 3rd, 625 K.C.


Happy New Year!

The Alliance has rung it in with a literal bang, several actually. Besiegement of the Foundry began on New Year's Day with ground assault beginning today. Prior to our engaging the enemy, the Army took a small detour to the south to deal with a genesaur that was dangerously close to our supply lines and evac routes. Those things look like a centaur mated with a tree, and they're MASSIVE. By the Light, that thing could have been used to transport the whole Army to the Foundry. One helluva fight too. At one point I was encased in vines, thorns digging their way through my armor. But we eventually killed it and moved on towards the Foundry.

But that's where things get... odd. I don't remember the trek, or the battle. Doc said it could be battle fatigue. I just remember camp being set up at the gates of the Foundry, and then some commotion about a banner. 'Spose I performed well though, cause the officers of the First recommended I take the Sergeant Exam to be considered for promotion. One step closer to being a Lieutenant again. I don't think I'd take it that far again. That's what took me out of the woods the first time. Mounds of reports and stone walls are not for me. Though, I'd likely do whatever the Regiment needed me too.

Whatever happened after blacking out, I ended up with a right sized gash on my rib. It's slow to heal, spite a few clerics wearing themselves out on it. downed a few potions they gave me to keep infection down. At least that seems to be doing its work.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12051691 Feb 10, 2016 at 02:30 PM · Edited over 4 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
Jan. 16th, 625 K.C.


The Iron Horde invasion has been broken on the might of the Grand Alliance. Small pockets of resistance remain but for the most part it's over. We'll be returning home soon, small brigades will hold strategic positions once we've left. I can't wait to return to the woods of Mirwood. Damned wound still not fully healed, hardly bothers me 'cept for the fact that I know it's there. It's like it's just waiting. Priests seem to have little effect on it besides numbing the pain when it's present. Some druids made an attempt, seemed to retreat at first but then flared up again. Heck, even had a shaman take a look. He tried some "pure elemental water" which did nothing but get me wet. He tried some air spell, gave me goosebumps, he crafted some mud paste and that stung like a whole hornets nest. I wasn't about to let him try something with fire. Only thing seeming to have an effect are some herbal healing tonics. I'll have to see if I can research them myself.



Jan. 22nd, 625 K.C.


My Sergeant promotion came through, but this bright spot has been darkened by other events. Rebellion has broken out all over Westridge. Not just small pockets of rabble rousers either, but large groups in multiple locations. Well hidden and well coordinated until the time to strike. One of the locations was Mirwood proper, not sure exactly. I don't even know if I was there or not... my memory is fuzzy as of late. Chunks of time are gone. I'm in one place during the day then come to in the woods later in the day or at night, it's always in the woods. But these rebels, I know most of them. Good townsfolk I've met in my time as a Ranger. Why do they turn against us suddenly? And without trying to come to terms. Some of the town was burned, people got hurt, and they all point the blame at us, the First Regiment. Some blame us for being the cause, others for not preventing it. I don't know who's right, maybe both.



Jan. 25th, 625 K.C.


I received word this evening that some crops were stolen. In an effort to ease tensions and "mend fences", I offered the services of the Rangers and any soldiers who wanted to volunteer. Roughly seven of us were able to tend to the matter, crops were gone and a trail of dirt led toward the mountains. We followed the trail to a small glade where we found the culprit, a damned Botani! Bastard said I was marked by his gods, which reports say are the Genesaur. Gotta be this blasted infection... He animated the crops and took them with him to mutate and spread their plague. Turns out some darned fool magi opened a portal to this "Everbloom" home of theirs right in our backyard! But we squashed him and those plants before any further harm could be done. Could I have the Botani Plague? I need to meditate, clear my head and think.



Jan. 27th, 625 K.C.


I have to admit it to myself, I'm infected. Slowy, but surely, I'm changing into... whatever monstrosity those Plague victims become. I've slowed it down considerably, but not stopped it. Who knows how long it'lll take. The Plague usually takes full effect within three days of infection, I've lasted a month so far, but it's progressing. That explains the memory gaps and finding myself in the woods. I have to report this to Command. I'm going to place myself under quarantine for now. Hopewarden was working on a cure back in Draenor, but I've lost contact with her, and with this Rebellion going on... it's the worse time to leave my post, but better I leave than turn on them and make matters worse. I'll head to the Lodge, few Rangers stay there lately, nice and isolated. See if I can't contact Jack Brightlake, he's pretty good with herbs and strange maladies. Odd that it seems only nature based remedies are affecting this nature based disease...

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12174070 Mar 16, 2016 at 10:40 AM
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79 Posts
(( The hand-writting has noticeably changed, no longer written in smooth block lettering but now jerky and uneven. The pages seem to have been handled roughly and slightly greenish water-stains can be seen))

Feb. 10th, 625 K.C.


I arrived at The Lodge a week ago, sent Mellori, my raven, to find Jack. Kept myself busy with hunting, collecting fallen timber, and gathering herbs. Tonics aren't working as well as used to. Mellori returned with message from Jack. He's on his way, maybe a few days. Have to keep it together. Running a fever, temperature high, and sweating a lot.

Luckily, Lodge is deserted. Other Rangers out traveling and hunting, most won't be back for several months. May the Light continue to grant me strength and continued good fortunes.



Marrch


Jack, friend. Say keep writing on paper. Good for mind. No luck on cure, many trials, all bad. Body make changes. Bigger, stronger, start to turn green. Mind not good as once was. Harder to find good words. Don't want change. Light no help. Nature help, but Nature also change. Too confused.

Animals no like me now. Bird fly away, dog growl then whimper. He confused too. Told dog go home, he listen good. Only me and Jack now, he good friend. Try to find cure, make me better. He say keep writing. Help keep mind smart... No more write now.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12174283 Mar 16, 2016 at 11:46 AM
Officer
79 Posts
Late March


I am good, getting better. Jack very smart. Knows plants very well. Also knows how each plant affect person or each other if mixed. Using plants, Jack make drink for me. Drink one every day. Changes slowed, now stop and slowly go back. Strange thing now, I hear things. Not like voices but still understand. They tell me about world and what happens. Is this Nature? Say I am part of them now, they help if I need. Tell me to tell Jack where find best plants to help me. Tell me connection stay even when back to normal.



April 18th, 625 K.C.


Progress continues in curing my affliction. Jack continues to improve upon the tonic, increasing its duration and/or potency. A few of the other Rangers have come in and out of The Lodge, helping with supplies where they can before they head back out. Physically and mentally I'm nearly fully recovered, however, on a spiritual note, I'm certain I'm irrevocably changed. This connection that has been established with what I can only call the forces of Nature, it's deeper than anything I've felt before. Like a family member, or maybe even a part of me. I am them and they are me.

I've spoken with Jack about it on several occasions, he said it's like the Old Ways, or Druidism, except different. He described druidism as if befriending a wild animal, with patience and understanding over time you develop trust in each other and learn how to communicate with each other and provide aid when asked. Druids accomplish this with the aid of magic, that universal power connecting all things and eventually refine their "magic language" to one that's more in tune with Nature, commonly referred to as Nature Magic. However, he said my connection is more like a bear talking to another bear. There's a direct bond between us, though he did say training in Nature magic would improve the communication. He wants to give the treatment more time before we start exploring what I'm capable of.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12177399 Mar 17, 2016 at 09:11 AM
Officer
79 Posts
June 13th, 625 K.C.


It's been two months since I last wrote, In that time, the Botani Plague I was infected with has been fully reversed. Though some physical traits remain to remind me, Jack said the plague is either "dead or dormant, it's impossible to tell which...". He has trained me as much as he can in the Old Ways considering the differences in our connection to Nature. And as a precautionary measure, he has trained me in Herbalism and Alchemy enough to reproduce the tonic needed to counteract the plague should it resurface, as well as teaching me a few basic healing salves and potions.

With regards to the Old Ways training, communicating with Nature comes easily but being able to produce an effect is slow to progress. Akin to extensively using a previously unused muscle, my stamina for magic use is very low and leaves me weakened and woozy. Coaxing a single flower to grow from a seed and bloom within a matter of minutes is exhausting. On an up note, I've learned a few non-magic tricks to use that will call Nature to my aid, such as a particular type of birdseed that is practically irresistible to ravens. A handful of this seed flung into the air or to the ground and the ravens will swarm the location, pecking at anything (or anyone) in that location. A gruesome sight, I'm sure, but effective if needed.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12242086 Apr 05, 2016 at 09:12 AM
Officer
79 Posts
July 18th, 625 K.C.


I rejoined the Regiment a couple of weeks ago, feeling confident I was no longer a danger to myself or my fellow soldiers and that time training at the Garrison would only bolster that confidence. Command deemed it proper that I return at the rank of Corporal due to the lengthy separation. To be quite honest, it was a higher rank than I was expecting. I would have been content with Kingsman at the time. It seems I rejoined just in time to deploy with them, which the suddenness does cause me some renewed concern in regards to my condition.

To make matters worse, somehow we went from sailing rough seas one moment to in the middle of desolate grasslands the next. So far our exact location is unknown but scouting reports suggest we're somewhere in the Northern Barrens of Kalimdor.

With so many unknown variables floating around, myself among them, I decided yesterday to submit my resignation to the Lord-Marshal. As a enlisted soldier I would feel obligated to follow orders to the end, even if/when the Botani Plague returns. I must have the ability to step away at a moments notice if need be to eliminate potential dangers to the Regiment, especially if I am that danger.

It was both of a boon and a misfortune that the Lord-Marshal was not in his tent when I delivered my resignation. Though I believe I have adequately explained my thoughts in the letter, I would have liked to been able to clarify then and there any questions he may have had. However, at the same time I am glad I did not witness first hand any reaction, if any at all, he would have to the letter.

I have the utmost respect for Duke Montclair. Under his guidance, and the officers below him, I went from a humble leather supplier to a Knighted officer and nobleman within one of the most prestigious regiments in all of Stormwind. A meager hunter trained to be a Ranger then a Musketeer and Cavalier and back again to Ranger. To be the cause of disappointment to him would be a hard blow for sure. But I suppose that one on one discussion is merely delayed. He will return to his tent at some point, read the letter, and summon me to talk it through. The only thing I have to offer him is that I'm still a Knight of Westridge and a Ranger of Mirwood. I may no longer be a soldier under his command, but my fealty is still his.

((For reference to the letter: A Sealed Envelope to Duke Maxen Montclair ))

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12247041 Apr 06, 2016 at 03:16 PM
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79 Posts
April 6th, 626 K.C.


A year. It's been roughly a year since I was nearly lost to this world. After months of fighting a losing battle against the Botani Plague, which would normally take over a man in three days, I was finally gaining ground thanks to some a lot of help from a friend. Knowing that I was surely hours away from becoming some hulking, green, mindless abomination is quite sombering. To leave my son fatherless and force his care onto my sister, the thought alone makes my heart sink.

In some respects, I did die. Reborn in this new form, whatever it may be. A mutt, born of both of Light and Nature. Even after a year, I don't think I've seen its full potential. Will what powers I possess improve? Discover greater powers? Martial prowess? Longer life expectancy? What of my body when I do die? Will I wilt like a plucked flower? Release dormant spores and infect those whom I hold dear?

And here I am, returning from Draenor a second time. The deployment suffered far worse this time around, witnessing horrors unimaginable to someone who wasn't there. Yet on a personal level, it wasn't as bad. I come home knowing that my mind and body are my own. And we're not coming home to a countryside tearing itself apart. Mirwood is its tranquil self, not a smoldering city in chaos. All is well in our part of the world and for now that's enough.

A curious thought crosses my mind just now. When you've seen and survived the terrors of this world, or other worlds in our case, other problems seem minor and petty. You become numb to them or consider them merely annoyances. A fly that persistently buzzes in front of your face. You're calm and collected while others suffer what to them are tragedies, or your less experienced comrades fret and stress about saving those who are suffering. Are we less human for this?

... Am I less human ? Both figuratively and literally?

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12279060 Apr 13, 2016 at 09:42 AM
Officer
79 Posts
April 12th, 626 K.C.


Several interesting and exciting events as of late. Yesterday, the Brotherhood held council, selecting Knight-Lieutenant Clement as the new Master of Horses to replace the former Knight-Captain, Jonathan De Vries. I think he got married and is a Duke now... For Clement to achieve so much at such a young age, it's truly remarkable. She's an inspiration to us all. Obviously to the lower ranks, she's an example of what one can accomplish when determined, but she also inspires us more salty veterans. To keep pushing our limits and to grow as a person and a soldier for the betterment of ourselves, the Regiment, and the Kingdom.

Shortly afterward, we began vetting applicants for Squires. Good people, the lot of them. I expect nothing less from soldiers of the First Regiment. Sergeant Grunwald and Corporal Stonewall were personally selected by Sir Ismond, best of luck to the both of them. Sergeant Jamerson stepped forward for review and Sir Baifers offered to train him. I know little of Baifers, he seems a bit gruff. If he and I served together previously, I recall little of it, possible further side-effect of the Plague.... But during my absence he must have done well to be where he is now.

Dame Clement concluded the meeting but held an informal Q&A of sorts for those who did not wish to step up during the meeting. Private Raiwood asked some questions indicating her desire to be considered. Clement admonished her a bit about not presenting herself for review and I agree. I've not interacted with Raiwood much but I've seen her actions which speak volumes. Like Clement, she's young but driven to excel. Still a fresh-faced recruit in Draenor, she consistently put her life on the line for the sake of others. How many people are going to pick a fight with an ogre when they're cold and starving just so others don't feel the crack of the whip or the flail? I think those two would make a grand pairing of Knight and Squire, but when the time comes, I would endorse Raiwood.

A new recruit was next in line. Caiterina O'Creagh is her name. So much energy and enthusiasm. And it was contagious. I couldn't help but grin like a fool listening to her go on about her plan for the future. She had an actual "Life Map"! I had never met someone who made a physical guide until now. I was so caught up in the scene unfolding before me that I only barely realized when my name was mentioned.

O'Creagh wants to be a Ranger, and in time a Ranger-Knight like myself. She knows that before Apprenticeship can begin she needs to finish her Soldier training and be promoted to Private. She was initially assigned as an Archer, but I had the good sense to have her request to be assigned as a Scout. By the time she's a Private, she'll have already trained her way through the first Rite at the very least, making her plan a bit more efficient.

There was one other I recall, Sebale I think. Timid fellow but he showed interest so that's something at least. Eavesdropping bits of his conversation with Dame Clement while I was talking with O'Creagh, he seemed nervous about Baifers and relaxed a little when told there are multiple personnel who he'll train under and with as a Soldier. We'll see what he can be molded into.

And then tonight, O'Creagh got a small taste of what it's like as a Ranger. Sir Brandon informed me there was some reported poaching going on off the shores of Mirror Lake. O'Creagh happened to be nearby so we invited her to come with us. We found their campsite and Sir Brandon's hound, Ted, led us down the trail to the southern border of Mirwood. Normally we would have had to stop there due to provincial jurisdictions and all that political mess. However, turns out the poachers were gnolls who had ventured north. As a plausible threat to the Duchy and its people, we could cross the border and counter the threat.

We found the corpse of one gnoll bearing some Violet Perch, a rare and valuable fish generally only found around Thunder Falls and Mirror Lake. So we had proof of who/what the poachers are but a few more questions were raised in it's place.

What killed this gnoll but didn't take the fish it had on it? An intelligent humanoid would have taken the fish for it's monetary value. I hear hand jewelry made from it's scales are big in the courts as of late. A beast would have seen the fish as a easy food source.

Why would the gnolls risk traveling into Mirwood? Usually they know to steer clear of Ranger territory. Has there been a change in their leadership? A younger, reckless Chief who never learned his lesson about the dangers of Mirwood?

Why go to Mirwood for fish? The banks of the Nazferiti are much closer and should be virtually overflowing with fish this time of year. Has something hindered the spawning season? I did notice the Banbury River is lower than usual. The seasonal snow melts from Fairpeak haven't hit yet.

We'll see if we can get some answers soon.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12307846 Apr 20, 2016 at 05:13 PM · Edited over 5 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
20 Apr, 626 K.C.


No reports yet on further gnoll intrusions, may need to send out some Scouts to access the areas.

Called for a Ranger meeting about a week ago and I allowed interested parties to attend for information purposes. Unfortunately, none of the other Rangers could make it. Sir Brandon was delayed for an hour or more. Many were out and about or too far away due to the start of hunting season, others likely didn't want to be around non-Rangers. Some are just more hermetic than I. No worries. Two Scouts attended, Recruits O'Creagh and Forge. Both reiterated their wishes join the Rangers and both have the potential to be good additions to the Order.

Corporal Stonewall, Sir Baifers, and Mr. Telcordi were also present as observers. Largely I spoke to the Scouts, giving them a good idea of what to expect once they begin training, O'Creagh had so many questions, but they were good ones at least. Forge and O'Creagh are well aware they must earn the rank of Private before I can begin Ranger Training with them. In the meantime, I'll keep up with Archery and Tracking, valuable skills for not only Rangers but Scouts as well. And if any others want to join in, so be it.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12344470 May 02, 2016 at 12:55 PM · Edited over 5 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
May 1st, 626 K.C.


Barrens. Though a desolate land, it is not truly barren as it's name suggests. Even in the most abysmal conditions, Nature, life, exists. A Ranger's life is to help maintain the natural balance. Cull the herd when it's too large, protect the herd when it's too small. Even when disturbed, Nature will attain balance eventually, but it could take decades, even centuries, depending on the extent of the disruption. Our goal is to minimize that time-frame. The Barrens maintains a precarious balance on it's own, one minor misstep and everything crumbles. Why do more people not see this?

In Stranglethorn, Stormwind establishes a new colony, terraforming the land to suit it's needs. Dam and divert a river and the ecology of the area changes. Too much change and the whole system fails for a time. We've seen this is Westfall. Once a land of bountiful harvests, reduced to a dustland, even before Deathwing's upheaval. They over-farmed the land with no thought of conservation and now suffer for it. I fear Stranglethorn would eventually go this route if some had their way.

In reverse, taking too much action can also have devastating effects. The Overgrowth in The Barrens is a prime example and aptly named. Misguided Druids took it upon themselves to "improve" the habitability of The Barrens and due to a miscalculation, growth happened too fast and too wild. Now the area threatens the rest of The Barrens and itself, in addition to the wildlife there and those who have to travel through it.

The Regiment too is out of balance. Discord sows itself among the ranks. Though minor in itself, an incident occurred yesterday that shed light on the darkness. These... monsters, for I dare not call them men, that we are after killed a mother Raptor. The act itself does not make them monsters, that was to come later. The killing may have been defensive in manner, that much I will acknowledge, but in it's wake, a juvenile raptor was left motherless. Loath as I was to admit it, and many shared my sentiment it seemed, the wisest and most merciful course of action was to kill the youngling as we could not take it and care for it. It would not have survived on its own if left behind, likely becoming prey to something else, or worse eventually starving.

It was not the action that concerns me, but the callousness that came in conversation about the act. A soldier does not need to be cold and hard-hearted to fulfill his duties. Such is the case with Captain Ismond. Stoic and unfeeling. He and I have seen and suffered much through the years. He hardened himself against. I see no empathy from the man in his duties, in fact I believe he has grown cruel. And the unfortunate matter is, those below look to emulate above. As myself and others took pity on the youngling, even the Prioress scoffed at "giving human emotions" to the creature.

"Human emotion"... a disturbing statement from our leader of the faith. What of the Dwarf, the Elf? The Orc, or the Tauren? Do their emotions somehow differ? Are Human emotions unique in some manner? And of other creatures, you assume they feel nothing, why? If you berate the hound does it not cower in fear and remorse? Does it not love you and rejoice in your affection? Did the young raptor not mourn it's mother's death the same as we heard the Tauren bellow?

A truly horrific sight that was to behold. To approach the Tauren village after leaving behind the now dead youngling raptor with it's mother's corpse. Slaughtered to the last and mutilated. Village plundered and burned. Decapitated heads arranged on pikes and bodies twisted in deformed poses. Long has it been since I felt such anger, and still I feel it as I write. Respect, Tenacity, Compassion, these are the teachings of the Light. To be upheld by it's followers, even the Code of the Brotherhood bind us to it. Yet these savages did not. My anger only doubled with Captain Ismond's offhanded comments on how the bodies could have been arranged for better effect. Here is a leader of men within our ranks, and he's no better than those we're chasing.

Shortly after, three Tauren riders began to approach but seeing our presence halted a ways off. Their eyes beheld the scene in front of them and their rage was evident, and justified. Luckily, we were able to convince them we had no part in the murder and left as ordered. We returned to Northwatch, most of us in dour moods. With our dismissal, Cait and I spoke a bit about the overgrowth and she expressed concern with some visible issues I was having in that area, leading me to reveal a little of my... condition.

This was thankfully interrupted by Corporal Stonewall who wanted to speak with me, he had issue with some statements I made in regard to a Knight's Honor and his current training as a squire under Captain Ismond. Markus idolizes the Captain to my knowledge, and it would not be too outlandish to say Markus will want to emulate his mentor. I already see the coldness within him.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12382872 May 16, 2016 at 10:19 AM · Edited 5 years ago
Officer
79 Posts
May 15, 626 K.C

Much has happened since we arrived in the Barrens. While in search of this Captain Redd and his traitorous rabble, we encountered a group of Horde natives calling themselves the Stonewind Tribe. Mostly Tauren, as to be expected of this region, but I did see at least one Orc and one Sin'dorei, mayhaps Ambassadors to this tribe from their respective capitals...

Their apparent leader spoke Common moderately well and after a little bit of tension and some words of assurance from the Lord Marshal, an uneasy alliance was made with them in order to track Captain Redd down. We found him and his group in short order but due to the sudden appearance of a quillboar stampede, Redd managed to escape our capture. He ran northward but we were unable to immediately pursue because of said quillboar.

The next day, I led a recon mission to try and find Redd and/or the quillboars. Following the quillboar path of destruction, which also led northward, we found a small camp of rebels that had been over run, Redd was not among them unfortunately. The path led into the Overgrowth and we discovered the quillboars were raiding a small Centaur camp. Being discovered but not engaged, we made a strategic retreat back to camp, having found no signs of where Redd went. On the way back we did cross paths with a small group of rebels returning to their camp after a hunting trip. I offered them the chance to surrender but they opted to attack and were killed to the man. We claimed their hunting spoils and returned to base camp.

With no other clues, we joined the Stonewind Tribe once again and assaulted the quillboar camps in a preemptive strike, but upon doing so we angered a nearby necromancer of some moderate power. Seems these quillboars were his "playthings". We fought valiantly but before we had the chance to take him down, the necromancer literally flew away with some of the quillboar corpses in tow.

Putting aside our initial mission to get Redd in order to deal with a new threat, the Regiment and the Stonewind Tribe sought out the Necromancer within Razorfen Kraul, a labyrinth of thorny vines and stone where the quillboar are known to reside and conduct shamanistic and necromantic rituals. After a few battles and scouring the whole of the Kraul, the necromancer was not to be found.

As we were due to ship out the following day, we bid farewell to the Stonewind Tribe and marched back to Northwatch, where we received new orders to sail to Lordaeron instead and aid the League of Lordaeron in their endeavors. The ship unfortunately when off course and had to put us out at the remains of Menethil Harbor instead of up in Hillsbrad. The Regiment marched through the Wetlands and into the Arathi Highlands with no issue. We rested at Refuge Pointe for the night, Cait and I patrolled the upper ridge line spotting a few potential dangers, trolls and ogres mostly, but since we were marching out in the morning, Command opted not to engage, citing that the Refuge could hold it's own if assaulted in our absence and we shouldn't risk our mission with unnecessary injuries. Which I agreed with. No sense poking a hornet's nest if you don't need to.

We arrived in the Hinterlands, using the dwarven pass and met with the League at an outpost in the east. After a brief rest, we assisted the League in assaulting a troll temple in the area only to discover they were trying to summon a Wild God in its physical form. The trolls kept chanting "Chezra" or something, I assume that was its name. It was a centipede of sorts and very angry. Both the League and Regiment took some heavy hits while wiping out the trolls and attacking the Wild God. We were lucky that disrupting the ritual left it weakened. After sustaining a few cracked ribs myself, we had managed to whittle away at the Wild God enough that it's heart was exposed. To save the League and the Regiment, I had to do something I had hoped I'd never do.

Long ago, before I joined the Rangers, I was still suffering from unmitigated rage and depression from the death of my family. I had a special arrow crafted for me that contained the powers of the Void. It would create a small implosion on impact, whatever it hit would collapse in on itself, maybe sending it to the Nether, I don't know. I wanted to use it if I ever found those responsible for the deaths. It was still unused when I found a sense of serenity with the Rangers, connecting with Nature and gaining focus once more. But I kept it on my person as a "just in case".

Well that moment happened. With the heart exposed, I fired the arrow at the Wild God, the whole of it turning in on itself and going... somewhere, no where. Some called me "God-Killer" afterward but I know better. I hardly did it on my own, I just so happened to be the one to get the killshot. It pained me to do it, but this Wild God had been corrupted by the voodoo magics of the Trolls, twisted in anger. My hope is that I released it from their grip, it returning to its natural form.

Cait continues to prove herself a capable Apprentice, and some day a full-fledged Ranger. I know she is ready to take the Rite of the Tracker. While I would prefer these Rites to be tested in the Forest of Mirwood where there is a measure of control, should we find the time I believe the Hinterlands could provide a suitable place. The training for the Rite of the Survivalist however will have to wait until we are in more friendly territory.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12389002 May 18, 2016 at 09:59 AM
Officer
79 Posts
May 17th, 626 K.C.


So many various, and deadly threats lie in wait here in the Hinterlands. Trolls were a known, as well as various wildlife, wolves, owlbears, and the like. But a summoned Wild God, a Fel Undead Dragon, and a Forsaken friendly Spider Broodmother and her brood?!

Yesterday, some strange goings ons were noted in Seradane, some Elven ruins to the north of camp. Further inspection led to the discovery of demon and fel-casters attempting to reanimate a dragon skeleton. And they were successful. It took great effort, but the combined forces of the Regiment and the League saw them all destroyed, though we suffered some heavy casualties. But thankfully, no deaths.

And then, today. A caravan got waylayed, one being stuck in a crater of some sort, and the other cart dragged off into a troll ruin inhabited by spiders. Initially inquisitive but non-hostile, the spider climbed on us and pestered us while we set to task of freeing the captives, only to be chased off by the Broodmother. One of the members of the League, Ivanette or something, a paladin by the looks of her abilities, noted the presence of Undeath. Turns out the spiders were trained by the Deaders.

Running back to the main force, with Broodmother still behind us, we find the group beleaguered by Forsaken, including Abominations. Once most of the Forsaken troops were dealt with, the combined forces began to assault the Broodmother, who took to munching on this one poor sap named Patrick but then spit him out. Sensing her life in danger, the Broodmother made a run for it.

Turning to pursue, I ended up slipping and falling in Abomination guts. Cait, not missing a beat, leaps over my prone body yelling "I got it!" On one hand it's slightly embarrassing to be upstaged by your apprentice like that, but also a sign that she's taking to the training well, and funny as all get out too. My rump and ego bruised, I eventually pick myself back up after some inquiries by nearby healers and medics. The resilient Broodmother had nearly made her escape, inspite of the severe injuries being made to her by those in pursuit, Cait among them.

In an attempt to salvage some pride, and in the hopes the Broodmother would not be able to return in the future to cause more problems. I attempted to hit the Broodmother at least a few more times from about 300 yards. I fired one arrow with effort to aim, then three more right after in succession. With everyone's combined efforts, the Broodmother was finally slain. I was told by someone nearby when she fell, that all four of my arrows hit, in a straight line. Many have, once again, given me credit for a kill that was not solely mine.

I appreciate the praise, but it is not my goal. In the end, as long as the natural balance and order of the area is restored, I am satisfied with my performance. Though, if this notoriety perhaps boosts interest in the Ranger Order, I won't complain.

Again we were blessed with no deaths, some serious injuries, moderate amount coming from the acidic spider webbing/saliva. Stonewall took a serious hit to the ribs from an Abominations cleaver. I got whacked by the abomination's hook-chain, left a major bruise and dented by armor, but that was all. Recruit West fixed my armor and Auromere gave me a cold compress for the bruising. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12461379 Jun 14, 2016 at 08:23 AM
Officer
79 Posts
June 13, 626 K.C.


A month goes by and much has occurred. The Hinterlands were a disappointment to many. Believing we would be retaking/securing Lordaerian lands, The League instead used the Regiment to put down some troll threats in the nearby areas. Don't get me wrong, there were some significant threats but when a peaceful accord could have been struck by finding some relic of value to the trolls, the League instead reneged on their word, finding and keeping the relic then assaulting the trolls. A dishonorable act in my eyes. Honor in the name of the Light, or just personal honor, does not conveniently not apply simply because the recipient is your enemy. Now and days, it seems many need to learn that lesson.

Afterward, we returned home for some training and respite, but it was short-lived as we have been redeployed to Kingsland. The local natives do not seem to be fond of the increased and prolonged human presence. In particular the trolls of the nearby Bloodscalp Tribe, an off-shoot of the ancient and ruthless Gurubashi Tribe as told by Kingsman Auromere last night during an educational training session. The Regiment has done much to help secure the area and its resources to ensure the continued success of the colony. Many provisional herbs and wild game have been gathered as well as taking a nearby mine.

Just the other night, the Regiment assaulted a troll island village off the coast of Kingsland. It was one of the suspected staging points for raids against the colony and its nearby Fort, Fort Greenwall. We were successful, with several troll survivors which, at the Lord Marshal's command, were thankfully taken prisoner to use in an attempt to broker peace with the Bloodscalps across the river from us.

Unfortunately, as the trade was in progress, a scuffle broke out among the prisoners and some of their non-Regimental guards. This lead to an assault from not only the prisoners but also some of their Tribesmen that had seemingly staged themselves behind our lines without our notice. The ambushers were killed and some of the prisoners as well, but with the river separating the two armies, the trolls retreated into the woods.

Tonight, as previously mentioned, Kingsman Auromere led a small informational training session on the tribal history of the local trolls. He used a device of gnomish technology that can project an image into the air. I believe he called it a hologram.

On a personal note, a few days ago while we were recovering from a large scale assault on Fort Greenwall, which we repelled, Duke Montclair approached me to resolve a lingering matter between Captain Laldere and I. I was at first taken aback as I was unaware of any unpleasantries but when he shared what information he had, I began to recall the offending matter. (See May 1st entry) I promised Duke Montclair that I would make it right, and thus I have. After Kingsman Auromere's training session, I saw my opportunity to speak with Captain Laldere privately. We walked outside of the fortifications out of earshot but within sight of sentries and came to an mutual and respectful understanding of each other. The matter quashed, we returned to the fort and parted ways for the evening. Hopefully, tomorrow I will be able to seek audience with the Lord Marshal and inform him that I have upheld my word to him. Though I imagine he will likely know ahead of time.

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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#12567161 Jul 23, 2016 at 12:09 PM
Officer
79 Posts
July 23, 36 L.C.


Seems I only take to writting in this journal once a month as of late. A proverbial dumping ground of collected thoughts I suppose. Where did I leave off?

The Kingsland Campaign has completed, successfully though just scarcely so. May he powers deign for it to continue to last. With short respite at home, we travelled to Stromgarde to aid in it's defense against the Forsaken, them justifying their assault via the fallen Prince Trollbane. Despite our numerous victories on the battlefield, the Forsaken leveraged their monstrous abominations against the assembled Alliance armies to push us back into the walls of Stromgarde. Once we were essentially trapped inside, they brought out their plague wagons to taint the city and potentially turn some of their enemies into new allies. Thanks to the wonderous efforts of the Magi, such as Private Falconheart and Recruit Cape, we were teleported out to the safety of the docks and from there back to Stormwind. Due to the plague being present, we were quarantined for the night and our gear stripped to be cleansed.

Ranger training continues with Corporal O'Creagh, she consistently exceeds expectations. Like me, the woods are her life and so she naturally possesses most of the skill sets required to perform our given tasks. With the events of Stromgarde, I decided to circumvent the traditional Rite of the Survivalist and substitute it with our own survival at Stromgarde. I have no doubt she would have passed the Rite under normal circumstances. She now progresses to the Rite of the Guardian, the one I feel truly tests the Apprentice. Here we shall see where her heart guides her. I am keenly interested to see where her path leads.

On a more somber note, there is a dark storm on the horizon and I feel it approaches faster than many can know. The fall of Stromgarde pales in comparison to what I'm feeling. At least twice now, since our return, powerful demonic forces has made their presence known. Once, in Stone Cairne Lake, the area of my birth, a doomguard was summoned by some cabalists conducting human sacrifices. We managed to save most, one just a child around seven or eight. A gentleman crafter, possibly a blacksmith, and "lady of the night" were executed before we could get to them. But this seemed enough to summon the doomguard. The veil is weakened if such can occur so readily.

And then another incident happened in the very forests of Mirwood I am sworn to protect. My fellow Rangers discovered some overly aggressive wolves, we assumed they were merely rabid. But once myself and some soldiers from the First Regiment found them, they bore the taint of shadow magics. Resolving the threat they posed, we were presented with increased problems: A Gnoll Druid who I believe had delved into the "Nightmare" I had heard Druids speak of, as well as fel forces as he summoned some satyrs to his aid at one point. But the worst part is that he mentioned a greater demon as his Master, one named Maulohr. Two of the soldiers present, Miss Falconheart and Dame Greystone, recognized the name as belonging to a Dreadlord, who was last present during the fall of Lordaeron.

As each day passes, the shadows grow longer. The forests get darker and darker. When not dead silent, Nature cries out in warning, it calls for my help. But how can I? What little powers I possess would be not but a pebble against a raging river and even that taxes my strength greatly. I can not fight an enemy who has not yet shown themselves, can I?

"...My life has been one prolonged hunt."

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