I’ve decided to keep this journal in the hopes that it will help those who come after me. In these times of turbulence, we must all do what we can to help each other.
Doing just that was what found me in Westfall, helping the People’s Militia out there. I was in my 14th cycle of training in my craft (I am…an aquirer, shall we say. Night work, much of it) and found myself on an odd side of the conflict. The Defias gang seemed to be waging war against the honest folk all around Westfall and the Elwynn Forest. And though I had all the skills to help me fit in with Defias, here I was fighting against them. Who says there’s no honor among thieves?
I’d been working Westfall for several cycles, actually. Destroying these crazy harvester golems (which I later learned had been built by goblins but set in place by, you guessed it, the Defias again), fighting the Gnoll Infestation, and at the same time doing a good deal of hunting for my own purposes. Those Goretusk Boars have hides that are excellent for leatherworking, and their livers can be baked into a delicious pie.
Anyway, my current task was to hunt down a band of Defias Trappers. These were wily foes. Not particularly strong, but clever. They’ll toss nets over your head, and they’ve got a knack for disarming their opponents. Let me tell you, fighting under a net with no weapon is not fun. Thank goodness the Spirit Binders of the realm like me well enough to bring be back when evil tries to send me to the other side.
My best course of action was sneaking up behind them, using my powers of stealth, and using a garotte on them. Seeing someone choking to death while slicing them up with my twin daggers isn’t fun, but its effective, and these people were evil, after all. They made their bed….let ’em lie in it.
A few times I’d be tangled up in their net when one of them would run for help. That’s when I was thankful I’d put all that time into learning to throw daggers. More than once I prevented disaster with a dagger between their shoulder blades.
At any rate, after a good bit of fighting I’d taken out enough of these trappers to please the fellow commanding the People’s Militia, and he taught me enough that I entered into my 15th cycle of training. And I was sick to death of the prairie of Westfall.
The Commander knew a guy in some town called Lakeshire, and needed a message taken to him. I had no idea where Lakeshire was, but anything was better than more running around in rye grass, so I volunteered.
Turns out Lakeshire is in foothills of the Redridge Mountains. It was a long run out there, but meeting up with my good friend Keenie broke up the monotony. I’d picked up a nice pair of gloves for the lass. We met up at the bridge near the Logging Camp. She got gloves, I got an eyeful of Keenie, so we were both happy. With that demon of hers chaperoning I wasn’t about to try for anything more than a good ogle. *wink!*
Lakeshire turned out to be buzzing with activity. They’ve got a huge bridge thats in repair, so lots of workers and industry going on. I took on quite a few jobs out there and even completed a few, including diving to the bottom of the lake to recover a lost tool kit. No one told me there were vile murlocs in there. Luckily I’m a good swimmer…
The commander’s “friend” Wiley turned out to be yet another fellow rogue, and he was *not* pleased to see me, but he did give me the information the commander wanted. So after doing some favors for a saucy barmaid (who, sadly, already had a man in her life) it was time to head back to Westfall.
It was my good fortune that a Gryphon trainer had opened shop in Lakeshire, so I decided to splurge on a ride back to Stormwind, the capital city of we humans. There are times when I detest Stormwind, and times when I love it. This time, I loved it. The chaos of all the adventurers shouting out their auction terms was invigorating (when it normally just gives me a headache). Soon enough I was swept up in the energy of it. I sold several stacks of linen cloth and a stack of light leather armor, and bought myself some new armor from a fetching mage named Xiv.
But duty called, and it was back out to Westfall Hills for me. On the way I snuck into Hidden Valley, a retreat of some of the younger members of the Defias gang. Silly pups never saw me as I threaded my way through them to where two guarded a treasure chest. I sapped one and while he was napping I slew his sidekick. She fell just as the first woke up, and now they’re guarding a chest in Hell somewhere. On this side of The Great Divide, the chest they’d been guarding was full of junk. Ah well.
At any rate, I got back to the commander and give him Wiley’s note. And damned if he wouldn’t believe it. Officers are truly a plague on mankind. So now what did he want? For me to take this note to someone in the Assasin’s Guild in Stormwind! ARGH! So back I went, got confirmation from this fellow and took it back yet again to the commander. Well, I guess war isn’t all about battle and glory. At least I got plenty of hunting done amongst all this message delivering.
Footweary, I decided to camp for the night. Frankly I’m sick to death of the commander and the Defias gang. Commander wants me to nab a messenger that runs a route down along the road to the next town in Westfalls, and there’re some Defias Pillagers that need ousting, but me, I ‘m a free spirit. When I break camp I’m going to ride a Gryph to Loch Modan. I’ve got some contacts there and I know I can find plenty of work helping the dwarves in their struggle against Troggs. And me, I need green fields, streams and lakes. I have enough and more of Westfall’s golden waves of grain.