I have been following rumors, listening and speaking to those around me. My voice is hoarse from lack of use. In the crypts, you do not have to use it to speak. With the living, you do. There is much I have missed. Many of my friends and allies are dead. My hearthstone lies dormant.
I wished to find what has become of any of them. Many Forsaken were killed. Some, I am finding, were killed by our own leader, branded as traitors for even wanting to be reunited with their living relatives. This sickens me in ways even an undead can be sickened.
A long time ago, with the help of Sigmah, I had donned the mantle of an Acheronian knight to reunite with my sister, Tiralyna. Despite being cursed, she was safe. She had found happiness with the Templars of the Rose, and with a Gilnean named Sielic.
I have resumed wearing this mantle and have been seeking her out. Travelling to the Shadowlands, I have realized that my dreams within my torpor were most likely spent upon Maldraxxus. Was I truly there? Why am I back here now, if this is so? In my mortal, though dead, shell?
Making my way beyond Maldraxxus, I began to search Ardenweald, hoping that some of the Templars had passed that way. They had. Many are elves, Gilneans, and shapeshifters. They seem drawn to that place. I had thought I sensed the Lich nearby, but was surprised when I discovered a Gilnean Death Knight instead. He was, however, with some that bore the tabard of the Templars.
They were, to put it politely, walking a worm. I believe the locals called it a Gorm. It looked as if a maggot and a bunny had mated, and I am uncertain if it was considered adorable or simply terrifying. Someone had named it Grippo, and it was hungry. It was almost entertaining to watch them get the beast to feed and follow a path. Those beasts grow quite rapidly, apparently. And the small being was soon larger than the bear shifter in the group.
I stand corrected. The bunny-worm was terrifying towards the end. At the rendezvous point, however, there had been a slaughter. I do not know what has happened to the various Templars nor what beings they have crossed paths with, but this one was an expert assassin. The patterns of death were intriguing and almost delightful in design.
Though such is also worrying. I hope that this one has not found my sister yet. As it is, one of the entourage mentioned that the Templars have found a local base of operations within the Shadowlands, in a place called Dawnkeep in Revendreth.
For now, I do not know how to make my way to Revendreth yet. I will bide my time in Oribos in hopes to find a guide.
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