Originally written Feb. 2, 2010.
It has been a long while since I made an entry. I left this journal in my quarters in Theramore, and left it gather dust. This is my fourth week spent in Stormwind, or somewhere within its provinces.
This is the longest length of time I have spent in the southern kingdoms. It is strange – until recently, I never noticed the weather patterns here. The skies remain clear and the air is usually warm. Or perhaps this feeling is nothing more than a fault of spending the last year on the Nothrend campaign.
Our war with the Knights has hit a lull. Since Lanria Geroux joined their ranks, the Templars were forced to drastically change tactics. Her knowledge of our identities and whereabouts sent a few of us sprawling to change known habits. As is, several Templars moved into Theramore, to the headquarter barracks. The Knight's sphere of influence does not extend as far as Kalimdor. We have the sea and Maelstrom to thank for our immunity thus far.
But as is, the Knights have hidden behind a shield. All activity has ceased outside their swamp and temple. We spent two days laying a careful trap in Duskwood, where a Knight caravan suspiciously traveled, but we missed our opportunity. The caravan carried enough weapons to arm a massive army. It seem that beyond that shield, the Knights have silently challenged us to an arms race.
Harple Firehand's research continues. On orders, he now conducts them off-world, on the other side of the Dark Portal. It is untested theory, but we suspect that the Knight's cannot reach him there, either. We are only fortunate that our contacts with the Aldor and the remnants of the Shattered Sun are still as strong as they were when the Templars withdrew from Outlands.
My hand is already strained from this writing. I do not know whether it is the time spent apart from these pages or simple fatigue. I have spent too many nights restlessly working on the holy tome we need prepared. It is finished, but the end result is more crude than I intended. I must delve into more intricate spells, perhaps one the church has let fall into disuse. But I must accomplish this without creating a holy bomb that will detonate Knight and Templar alike. If there is a shred of doubt or evil in the heart…
I will bury myself in the volumes at Northshire. The journey will be two-fold: I must reach a priestess at the abbey with concerns for Kiekie. It seems that at long last, her demeanor is explaining itself. Every kal'dorei has lived a long life in this world, but many times it seemed as if Kiekie was a child. It seems that Kiekie is no less shielded from the horrors and stress of our reality than the rest of us. I pray that the priestess that cared for her will yield more details about her other persona, and the amnesia that separates one from the other. I sense violence in the persona that is attempting to reveal herself.
I will grasp a shield and sword again soon. This I will repeat: the sword and the shield will come again soon.
Once the tome is finished, training completed, alliances forged. The Knights prepare themselves behind their defenses, and so do we.