To Flame Warden Xodius,



Well-met, though only by letter. My thanks for pledging to the campaign in Northrend.



Know that the remnant Alliance, Argent forces or the Templars of the Rose cannot sustain you or your companion. The north is harsh and unforgiving, and each woman and man must bear their own weight.



Before you set off on your journey, bring enough provisions to provide for both yourself and…

November 29



To Captain Morgan Ashford of the Zephyr Trading Company,



I must call for a new contract between the Templars of the Rose and your company. War has come again to Northrend, the details of which are still largely unknown. But the Northrend forces are bare bones in comparison to their peak during the campaign.…

Esteemed Scribe Instar,…

Dear Madame Cunningham,…

This letter is written on yellow parchment and smells faintly of cinnamon and lilies.            

Robert,          

I promise on our friendship that I will look after your family's memorial.      

I am torn by your current actions. I applaud your choice to do what is right,  to pay for your crimes. But I am saddened by the thought of not seeing you for a very long time.

Soon, I will be unable to travel until after the baby is born, but if you…

[The letter is penned on high-quality paper and sealed with the flask and crown emblem of the Royal Apothecary Society.]…

[Penned by Zaerah at first light, the morning after Friar Duroth's feast.]



First blush of dawn is upon us, setting the canvas walls all aglow. Lawrence is still slumbering peacefully beside me, thanks to Miss Savvy’s dreamless sleep draught. Hardly snatched a wink, myself. I just keep drinking in the sight of him, trying to assure myself that he’s all in one piece. If only the soul could knit itself whole as quickly as the body can.



Can’t believe I nearly lost him…

This orc was a peon

He really knew how to work

Yet every time he went drinkin'

He's always afraid…

To Chieftain Kormok Wraithverge,



I will aid you in crafting this weapon, but I withhold full promise till its plans are known to me. It is not out of any special brand of mistrust that I deny aid till the weapon's purpose is revealed, it is simply that I do not subscribe to the unconditional.



We have a shared enemy in the northern frozen wastes. If the weapon is meant to unite the…

I traveled often when I was younger, perhaps then it is natural for me to never remain in one place for long. There were few places in Lordaeron I did not see with my own eyes, and even now the plagued land tugs at old memory. Perhaps that is another reason why I am so drawn to the raising of Tranquility's Watch.



The Council debated its reveal over the entirety of a month, but there was no posturing, no banal…

She jerked back to consciousness suddenly. When she slept, if that was what it truly was called, it was more a shutdown of her functions and processes while the necromancy that animated her being could repair the flesh to its timeless perfection. The worgen leader had taken a heavy toll upon her, and despite the addition of Gabranth’s healing touch, she had still needed to shut down to repair her throated neck.

Looking over the campsite, Necropsi saw him consuming the body…

The sun rose early in Dalaran, but there was one already at work at the forge. Necropsi had been there most of the night, preparing for the demonstration.

A lone orc walked in, and donned a leather apron to approach the woman at the forge. Kormok looked upon her work and then up at the large trolless.

The sounds of hammering was broken only by the large woman’s words.

“De world be a difficult place, orc. But ah’m sure ya know…

The heat of the fires in the forges in the Valley of Honor made the undead creature’s skin feel awkward. She had not been quite so warm in a very long time, but due to the necromantic energies animating her, she could feel the prickling of her skin as hot flecks of metal burnt into flesh. They would quickly heal, leaving her in a strange, timeless perfection of a corpse preserved in ice, as she was when she was brought back. The sensations were strange to her, and yet familiar, hints of a…

The blood on the table was testament to their hunger. He had shown her again that suffering was indeed a type of pleasure of the flesh. The pain they had inflicted upon each other seemed to have the desired effect, and she craved more.

This Forsaken man, this death knight, was strong. He knew what he wanted, and was not afraid to take it. Life, blood, flesh. It all bent to his will. She could smell his power and it was like the finest blades as they passed through her…

The necromantic energies finally brought her back to consciousness, repairing the damaged flesh and leaving her again cold and perfect. The sickly grass had been soaked in blood and ichor, but what was frustrating was the absence of her armour.

The straps had been cut, and would need to be repaired. Reaching for her discarded pack, she began to mend the armor, reattaching leather and sinew to re-create perfection. Exposing her tusks in a predatory grin, she did the same for…

The Shadow Vault has been my home for years now. I’ve trained with the best Scourge crafters, and later freed by the Ebon Blade. Years of honing my craft to perfection, and now they say it’s not good enough.

The Leaper told me to go back to Orgrimmar and serve my old masters, Vol’jin and the Darkspear. I’ve come back now to serve the Horde, and again focus on perfecting my craft.

What is my craft? It is fusing the strongest metals with the bones of my enemies…