I traveled north without companion today, and rode to the Lightbringer's tomb.



There was rumor among Alliance cities that the Tabard of the Lightbringer was found, and is now held at the tomb by a Knight of the Ebon Blade. The rumors were hushed, when I first heard word, I did not believe it was true. I thought the tabard lost, or I simply did not think of it at all. I only considered the betrayal of Lordaeron's prince, and the end of the Silver Hand. It is a betrayal and loss…

I placed responsibility into the hands of what some would see as our youngest Templar.



Harple Firehand has returned, though it seems he struck a deal with a spirit and its sense of humor. I await his full account on how and why he appeared before Koryander and I, grinning and appearing like a child. No - not child, but adolescent at the very least. He is fortunate that his robes still fit, but the occasional crack to his voice was distracting.



Firehand and I never see…

I never write enough, the purpose of this journal is to leave an accurate record of myself, plans and thoughts should I die on the field. But I find myself leaving it for weeks on end, I was never the dedicated writer or scholar. My father would perhaps balk at my lack of discipline, Light be with his departed soul.



The nights seem more often as of late. The Templars now wage a war of containment with its former ally, the Tears of Draenor. I sent Marksman Kanta Wildsabre to appeal…