((Good to know!))
Dear diary
How in Greymane's name did I miss this?!
Not very far from the refugees' camp is a massive tornado! And not just any normal tornado I fear. My journey must go on though; I should give this thing a wide berth. Who knows where or how I'd end up if I got caught in it. Bossa would be fine though: cats always land on their feet, right?
<The next couple of pages are ripped but legible.>
Trust me diary, I have no idea why I'm doing this either. As we'd drawn close to the tornado Bossa picked up a scent and charged. Right into the tornado's base! When she disappeared into the swirling dust almost unhindered I chanced following. No way I'm losing her so soon after promising to protect her.
Malfurion! So the rumours were true, he is here in Darkshore and he needs help. The great druid did not move but he knew I was there. He explained how he was using every ounce of his strength to keep the entirety of Darkshore from being ripped apart. Amazing. Because of this he was unable to do anything else and implored that I gain allegience with nearby potential allies: a race of creatures called “furbolgs”, the “wildkin” that lived not far from this location and an ancient or war, currently defending another Highborne site. I remember seeing strange bear-birds with antlers on the way here; I think I'll start with those.
The cave Malfurion had described to me was easy enough to find, but the sense of loss and mourning here makes my fur stand on end. Before me stands one of the strange creatures: Aroom, the last wildkin of Darkshore. It must be awful to have your entire clan destroyed around you. Aroom hoots with such sadness. Bossa nuzzled him affectionately and is now curled around his... paws? Talons? Anyway. He is capable of speaking common and asks that I collect the feathers of his fallen brethren so they may be properly burned on a funeral pyre.
All around me feathers of wildkin littered the floor, so that was easy enough. I would've felt bad if I had to pluck them from- <The sentence stops abruptly.>
As if things couldn't get worse. It felt odd that there were no signs of anything else here, save the odd critter that Bossa keeps pouncing on. So to turn around and be attacked by the maddened spirits of the wildkin didn't come as too much of a surprise. Still bloody hurt though. I feel terrible for having to kill them (again) but this should hopefully give them peace. Things should be fine once the funereal cermony is complete.
Aroom is understandably hollow about all of this, but I could hear the gratefulness in his voice. Now we just need fire. But not just any fire: Elune's Fire. According to Aroom the spirit of the former flamekeeper should still possess it. We shold end his pain and retrieve the torch he holds.
Uncomfortable but necessary. I retrieved the torch from the spirit's grasp and returned it to Aroom. The relief, respect and mourning were all clear in that single, low-pitched hoot he let out. The pyre was lit and the feathers burned. The wildkin are at peace now. Aroom needs some time to recover – who can blame him? - so I'll give Malfurion note of his imminant arrival. Next on the to-help list; the anciant of war, Selenn.
Selenn was down in Ameth'aran guarding it against earth elementals that were swarming the place. He explained that, while he was compelled to aid Malfurion, his first duty was to protect the area. Looks like the only way to get his help is to remove the threat, eh?
Just like the piles of pebbles they are the elementals fell to pieces and rolled away once dealt with. Selenn was impressed and will join the druid when he's sure the place is safe. Wait, I just made sure it was safe didn't I? Stupid cat-faced tree-thing.
Final target; the furbolgs. Humanoid bear-creatures. And certainly not the teddy-bear kind at that. They seem to be having more than a “heated” argument with the local fire elementals. Bad pun, I know. Back to business: in short their chieftain wants me to help dispose of the flaming pests. But not in the traditional way. He gave me a special totem to trap the elemental spirits in and, hopefully, calm them. We'll find out soon enough. Withers stayed behind for obvious reasons.
Spirits trapped, I need to take them to the proper place to be soothed. Doing it any other way will annoy them apparently. But fire doesn't like to be soothed, it will fight back until it is snuffed out completely. Basically that meant the elementals will attack the totem while they're being soothed. A bit hot under the collar aren't we?
Well, I certainly hope the elementals are soothed because I'm plenty frazzled. As long as the totem remained at the firestone little embers popped up and attacked us. Followed by a pretty ticked-off flame revenant. I hope the furbolg was right and that's all it took... even he seems concerned that the spark might flare up again if left unchecked. I'll let him and his people sort that out while I report to Malfurion.
Nothing is ever easy, even for the most powerful of druids. Now that our allies have gathered Malfurion has realised that even this isn't enough. We need one more powerful ally. As it happens he'd heard that the Twilight's Hammer had managed to open a passage into the Emerald Dream, specifically a nightmare-filled part, and had entrapped an emerald dragon there. Dragons now! I had never dared hope I'd actually see one for myself, even if the world is supposedly being wrecked by a giant black one. I am still the only one with free hands, so once more I have to brave the extreme, to face wave after wave of cultists as they try to stop me from reaching the portal!
...Actually it was just a quick stroll inside. What cultists there were got picked off from afar. Jeez, they don't guard them like they used to, do they? The Emerald Dream doesn't appear to be much different from our world, give or take the odd strange... things. Thessera, the dragon, was practically waiting for me on the other side of the portal in chains. Such a magnificent beast, even when shackled. The nightmare guardian holds the key.
I don't even want to know what that thing was. I'm just glad to have gotten the key off of it and free Thessera. To speed things up a bit Thessera told me to climb onto her back and fly us out. At first I thought coaxing Bossa up would be a chore, but she quite happily vaulted her way up without me. Holding her close with one arm and clenching a large scale in the other paw the dragon took us back to Malfurion and the others.
Flying in its own right is amazing enough, but to ride a dragon was simply exhillerating! It didn't end there either; the last threat was literally above us, within the tornado. Twilight's Hammer had corrupted twilight drakes and were using them as mounts, summoning more through a portal. Thessera and I had to close the portal and kill as many of these drakeriders as we were able. I marvel at my own strength sometimes diary: flying into the tornado on dragonback should surely have whipped me off like a leaf.
Thessera performed admirably, spitting a poison barrage at the portal til it imploded, taking a few drakeriders with it, and then picking off the stragglers. The only real part I played in it all was warning of riders coming in from behind, and even then Thessera was quick to react. I felt small and unnecessary. But the experience was well worth it. With that done it is time to move on. Malfurion asked me to meet with a fellow druid, Balren of the Claw, over at the Grove of Ancients.
Balren greeted me warmly once I'd explained my efforts with Malfurion. He told me to get some rest; there's plenty more work that needs to be done and right now I'm in no state to continue. I couldn't agree more actually, though I hadn't realised just how tired I was. I rode on a dragon for pity's sake! Well diary, I'll give some pause for now. Write in you again soon.