The following is written in a leather-bound book and is normally kept securely in Arialynn’s Old Draenor study. The paper is blank and without lines, yet the script is neat and perfectly straight. For this entry, it traveled through the portal from Draenor to present-day Azeroth, specifically Westguard.
My words will be brief tonight. The hands that write this page are still bloodied from the night’s events and need tending to.
I rest at Westguard after a long battle at the Citadel. The Watch at long last has completed its war with the latest incarnation of the Iron Horde. It is a battle we began the day Garrosh Hellscream destroyed all chance at peace and leveled Theramore. The Rose was nearly shattered then, scattered by a blow that blindsided us. For all our time bringing the Horde and Alliance together, it cumulated in the most horrid end.
I write of “end” but from the ashes the Rose sprang anew. The Rose still cultivates its Horde allies but our rosier world view is jaded. We are cautious and hardened, but steadfast. The Horde that come to us with an open hand shall see ours and together we defend Azeroth without hesitation. The Horde that forsake the people of this world and choose to conquer invite the Rose’s wrath.
Northrend is our home now. We return to the top of this world and again become caretakers of uneasy peace. It has been long since I have seen the aurora sky and smelled its wind. Another war was fought here, one I thought was the war to end wars. The world has since become so much larger. Now returned from a whole planet and timeline away, I have a glimpse of the future.
My first sentence was misleading; I wrote far longer than intended. I am contemplative in spite of injury and exhaustion. Concluding this entry, I rest now for tomorrow.