Originally written April 14, 2011.
Stormwind acted as an anchor tied to my feet tonight, and I do not see that role changing in the future as long as political players remain at hand.
I saw for the first time the value of information within the city, how it is a currency bellied by its less reputable partner: lies. Deceit, whichever, I do not trade in either so freely. I witnessed an arrest founded on no evidence, for the true purpose of holding and questioning its victim for desired information. It was an inquisition, veiled with the act of serving city justice. They arrested a Templar, but now she is free.
Much is left to be done. We stepped foot in Theramore one hour ago, and I take in the night's victories. We earned a brief peace, but it was so quickly darkened by Stormwind's thick mire. Perhaps I should count our escape among our victories, but I cannot entertain too long in such naivete. The mire will return under a new guise, by a new face, or by faces we already recognize. I have no skill for politics, but I find myself now able to recognize a politician's game as he plays it before my eyes. I do not take comfort in this new skill of mine, I would prefer being youthful, reckless and ignorant of it all. Now, I dwell on it.
From a ship at sea, the dawn rises and hits the spires of Stormwind's tallest towers. It lights the city in such a way that the sight sits perfect in memory. I will maintain that picture and fight for it till the day I die, regardless of what political muck those towers house within their stone. It will be a city for future generations, I can only pray that sanity sweeps the political disease from city streets while its soldiers defend the faraway front. Then and only then, I see Stormwind stand without enemies.
Althwyn will receive another letter tonight and finally, time willing, a visit in person – but not a visit by me. One of the night's victories, Light willing, and with the Light's blessing. The Templars' most famous arrow flies again, and will find its mark.
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