I can’t say that I’m fond of Fiona. I’ve never thought of myself as the jealous type but something about her prickles my skin. Sure, she seemed nice enough when we met her two months ago as we entered the Plaugelands but she keeps making eyes at Trevor. Every time she looks at him – and I catch her doing so quite a lot – her worgen nose twitches.
Otis likes her, but I suspect that has more to do with her species than anything. I don’t think they smelled each other’s butts when they first met, but I can’t say for certain that it didn’t happen.
We stuck with her though. She hired us to guard her as she made her way along the road, making lengthy stops at each guard post to barter and trade and drink and tell stories. It was a slow trip, but it’s not like we have anywhere in particular to be.
We arrived in Tyr’s Hand yesterday. Apparently it was recently in the hands of some sort of cult or something, and things are still not completely settled. There was already an air of tension and it was magnified a thousandfold at the appearance of…something in the sky. It is a huge rectangular building that somehow hovers in the air to the west, somewhere in the general vicinity of Light’s Hope Chapel. Even from our vantage point, several miles away, the thing looks massive.
There is already speculation about war, about the resurgence of the Scourge. Everyone is on edge, enough so that I have decided to take Otis and scout this new development. I haven’t told Trevor. He would want to come along, and as much as I love him and feel safer with him, his clanking armor is exactly the wrong thing for this. Once we get back, we’ll be able to make some firm plans. My vote is to head back south. Fighting monsters is one thing – being on the front lines of a war with the Scourge is something else entirely.