[Rhork]

“Rorry! Hon’ are you hungry?” Vanessa calls down a dusty, tome-riddled aisle. At the far end a small boy no older than ten with auburn hair blazes through a letter with giggles sprinkled throughout. His desk is riddled with books, playful candle light bounces across the library shelves and into the high rafters above. The orange glow streaks a slight highlight in her dark hair and reflects off the pearl white skin peeking out from her simple dress and apron. Her wispy features grant her the nickname “Ghost of the Library”, graciously given shortly after meeting the other servants. Dust kicks up as Vanessa weaves around the maze of disorganization all while balancing a delicate tray of tea and snacks.

“What are you writing there, Rorry?” Metal rasps along the desk while the boy swipes a steaming biscuit from the tray. Vanessa peers over his shoulder and pours a cup of tea. She scrutinizes the candles and their proximity to the tomes, but leaves it to be brought up later. The boy is known to be careless with fire and rumors of magical potential are abundant.

A warm smile meets the letter to Great Father Winter, “Aw, what are you asking for, Rorry?”

“No peeking!” He hunches forward, the awkward angle makes the quill tear the parchment in a few places. “If anyone but me knows then it won’t work!”

“Alright, alright. Eat what I’ve brought you, okay?” Vanessa scratches the top of the boy’s hair and his shoulders slump.

“Stop it, Vanessa,” He protests, but she knows better. Her hand gets behind an ear and he relents, the scratching nearly putting him to sleep. Vanessa’s cheerful laugh brings out a content smile from him. Ever since his family hired her she’s been so kind to him, almost like how an older sibling should be instead of the ones he has to deal with.

“Mmnn, ‘Nessa can you scratch my back?” The boy hunches forward, pushing his letter away as he rests his head on his arms. She laughs and obliges.

The boy can’t fight any longer and drifts into a soft sleep as he enjoys the backrub’s expert execution.

“Can you go back to my hair now, please?” He mumbles. Her nails move to his scalp and press down.

“Too hard.” Her nails bite the skin.

“’Nessa, stop.” The nails rake along down his neck and shoulders.

“Stop! Vanessa!” The boy yells, pinned down by some force. He struggles after feeling something slick along his skin.

“Stop! Stop it! Stop!”

Rhork surges forward, sprinting into a tree trunk in a small clearing of dense grass and foliage. The burst of motion and resounding thud send a few small creatures scattering into the underbrush with chattering cries. Clothing snags on the bark and prevents him from sagging down as he gets his wits together. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep though the last thing he does recall is stepping through his portal to Stormwind’s Mage Tower, then falling, then a few branches, then the ground. The more he thinks the more his body aches of bruises and tiny cuts. Reaching behind him, he feels around for a side pouch to his travel pack. His glove comes back red and stained, though not the crimson of blood.

“Damnit, stupid cheap vials.” He pulls off the tree and checks his supplies. “No way.” He holds up the only vial of healing left, his landing having shattered the rest. The potion helps to alleviate the most major of pain. “That’s the last time I skimp out on quality…”

The tree’s cooling shade shield him from most of the overhead sun’s heat, though the humidity is another thing. Sounds of life from all directions flood the small clearing. Animals dart from limb to limb and send birds of all colors to flutter to the tree Rhork leans against. The roots, wild and large, make a suitable enough nook and off in the distance Rhork hears the rush of water. It’s deep enough to keep most of him hidden though not so deep that he needs to worry about critters. He unbuckles the top of his mantle and loosens the tie around his sleeves. Winter is coming to Stormwind and that is the weather he prepared for.

“Huh, never been to Stranglethorn before.” Rhork comments as he surveys the multicolored plants, various insects, and tiny flower monsters with teeth. He focuses specifically on the tiny flower monsters with teeth.

The trio of creatures step closer, cautious that the large humanoid will jump into action again. They were enjoying the sun’s warmth when this tall thing fell on their friend. The bites and scratches they worked tirelessly for are gone as well. The leader, a larger plant creature with a sharp stick squeaks out a ferocious roar, attempting to intimidate the humanoid. Rhork flicks his hand and sends a sparking bolt of electricity at the ground before them. Their resolve now shattered, the plant monsters scatter again to the bushes.

In a way, he thinks they look cute with their big eyes and bright colors, more-so now as they poke their heads out of the bush. Rhork sends another little zap in their direction and they scamper off to who knows where.

“Wonder what those were…” Pondering a name for the unknown creatures, it strikes him to let his friends know he’s alright.

[Rhork]

At his desk, Rhork skritches away with a quill in a journal, a new journal; he’s never kept a journal before. On a friend’s advice he bought the leather bound booklet to catalog his would-be adventures and now that he managed to return to Stormwind he can rest and get to it!. ((And give me practice with informal first-person perspective writing))

“5 – 2; 9pm

Well, here is my first journal entry. Staring at the blank page is weird. A lot of things tonight have been weird.

Anyway. So far I have everything I need for my new staff except for the Elementium. Autumn volunteered to help me get some, so I’ll need to get back with her when I’m ready to set out. The two of us should be fine?

Three if you count that giant Ice Elemental that follows her. Man I can’t wait to get the book she read on how to do that.

I went to the Military meeting earlier today and dueled Xandric. He clobbered me. I got a ways to go with combat magic. Also I mean I wasn’t using my sword because I’m focusing on staff fighting right now, but it’s meh. The core of my new staff is working wonders keeping my mana flowing. Even unfinished it has a massive capacity for channeling, staggering even. I hope it can handle me when it’s done.

Once the duels were over I asked Rorrek if he wanted a portal to Stormshield. The last time I sent him there was on a botched spell as he charged me during a sparring match. It ended well at least and I’m glad I have a better hang on making portals to and from Draenor. It’s a little unnerving how much easier it is now compared to the first time I tried from Azeroth. Really should’ve kept some Apexis Crystals or I’d still have my old staff!

What am I saying? Writing. Whatever. This new staff feels like my old one at least. I still have a few shards of the old one suspended in a container above my clothes hamper next to my skull. I’m saving tem to use when I get to work on the new one. I need to replace the skull’s paper Night Elf ears at some point.

All-in-all the day went well except for getting tossed around Azeroth. Again.

I thought I had teleporting down, ley-lines or not, but I kept popping out in the most random locations! First Pandaria, then Tol’Barad, and finally the ruins of Theramore! I’ve never even BEEN to those places!

I conjured an apple and charged my staff since apparently there’s wild Arcane energy permeating LITERALLY EVERYTHING in Theramore. Makes sense considering the Mana-Bomb, but man, I’m glad I used my staff as an Arcane Lightning rod. Just wish it’d actually stay where I put it…The damn thing just *appears* on my back if I leave it anywhere. At least the lightning strikes didn’t even come close to overloading it or I’d be screwed.

Thinking on it, the more I time I spent eating conjured apples in Theramore the more I felt…weirdly at ease? I felt more rested in my brief stint there than here in my own kick-ass apartment! I was like suuuuper relaxed and chill. Autumn showed up after I freaked out about the teleporting nonsense over the Guild Stone and thought something was wrong. I didn’t think there was but she asked me to step in a Rune she drew. I don’t remember what happened after that, but now I have like half the Twilight Empire all riled up and concerned over something. Aerana said it had to do with my magic and didn’t specify what, but I’ll be seeing her soon for that Water Elemental book so I’ll ask her then.

I really don’t see what the problem is. I’ve always had a lot of magic at my disposal, Daphni helped me understand it better, and Khadgar helped ‘Spell it out’ for me as he put it. Man he’s cool. As a cucumber. (Again, his words, I take zero credit for that awesome one liner of his).”

Rhork sits back at his desk, looking up at his low ceiling, particularly the spot he always bangs his head on when he stands. Writing put his mind to rest. He puts out the candles and moves to his bed, shoving papers and notebooks off the comforter then falls asleep.

[Rhork]

The evening is as quiet as it usually is in the Mage Quarter. Most of the students are either at home nosing a book or at the tavern. Rhork rests on a bench near a well outside of the Slaughtered Lamb. He never goes into that tavern, but the space outside is nice, open, not infested with Warlocks and Dark Magic at all. He writes in his journal to recount the events of the day when he should be resting and not in his armor. The dark tunic, lined with thin plate and chain mail, is comfortable enough in the evening and he doesn’t mind the extra weight from his steel-toed boots and reinforced gloves. If anything he wants to wear it as much as possible. After all, the armors he’s seen from Mages and Wizards far greater than he put up with heavier garbs. His staff, floating an inch off his back, crackles and pops with lightning contained around the levitating and jagged lump of metal above the staff head. He’s used to it by now even though others prefer not to be zapped with static should they get too close.

“5 – 10; 7p.m.

Exploring Blackwing Lair was a huge success! The place was abandoned just as I had speculated. It’s been nearly a decade since heroes banded together and looted the place, though it added hours to the search. Autumn was there and she helped find a scroll detailing a method for smelting and working raw Elementium. I’ve compared what I’ve found in the Lair to what I can get over the Auction House and it’s odd. The stuff from the Lair is different. It’s more potent and concentrated, certainly a lot older than what’s found elsewhere like the Twilight Highlands. I can see why Nefarian used it to do…whatever it is he did. The journal read more like an action novel anyway. It was stupidly superficial.

Still I’m glad to have made the trip! There were a lot of Dragon bones still left in the place and weird machines still whirled and buzzed. I even found a tome called “Draconic for Dummies” and I’m excited to dive into it! First though I need to go over this scroll to see how they utilized the Ore.

Oh – Autumn also found a super large tome! That thing weighed like twenty pounds and had a thick portion of it encrypted with magic sigils. Totally gonna crack that before I finish my staff.

Speaking of…I still need to find an Arcane Forge to work the Ore into something usable. I’ve thought about Zangara, but the elements are way too primal there and I don’t want to burden Khadgar more than I already have. Also I just don’t want to go back to Draenor right now. Dalaran is an option. I saw Jaina Proudmoore there once during some gala my parents and I were invited to.

Well…I was invited, not them, but they insisted to come with. Whatever. They’re still mad I’m the only one with Magic in the family. They’d be higher up the Noble chain if Elly had magic. I wonder if they married her off yet?

Anyway, Dalaran is an option, but I’m kind of… Mm... Leaning toward Theramore.

I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like something’s there, calling to me. I’m gonna go back at some point.

I’m just glad I have everything I need to finish this staff. It’s gonna be so sweet.

P.S. – Remember to payback Autumn at some point for keeping things secret.”

Rhork closes the journal and bites into a conjured apple as he watches the sun set through the gate to a small terrace. A wind kicks up and brings in the beginnings of the cool night air. He stands and stretches, hopeful for the next few weeks to come.