Flinthammer Hall

I adopted the sweetest little murloc. The poor dear was orphaned by adventurers pillaging their homes in the Wetlands. (I deny any previous involvement on me part.)

He likes to sing, dance, and … yes, chase cats.

Hallow’s End has arrived in Azeroth!

I’ve gone trick or treating mainly in Ironforge, Menethil Harbor, Thelsemar, Kharanos, and Aerie Peak. Who knows what the night elves or the humans put in their food? Would ye take that chance?

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The battle for the resource nodes in Arathi Basin began last week. I do have to admit that the new battleground gives me renewed energy. Everything is so new and fresh and … dare I say it? Fun! Even losing doesn’t hurt as much because I still get rewarded for the resources gathered regardless of the end result.

Yeah, I think I’ll stick around for a bit and keep up the good fight! Why not?

I look at me journal and see an entry proclaiming me joy with Warsong Gulch. Nearly two months later, I no longer feel that way. Warsong Gulch has gone from a fun sporting event to an apathetic grind for the sake of collecting points and earning new armor.

Where has the thrill gone?

On me way to the griffon flight master, I passed by the throne room and decided to peek in for a second to get a glimpse of King Bronzebeard. He saw me and although he nodded his head in polite recognition, his jaw tightened. I waved and kept moving. When I was a wee lass, people had teased me and Princess Moira for our striking resemblances. Even King Bronzebeard would feign confusion and pretend I was really his daughter and jovially laugh at Moira’s shrieks of protest. I’d also get a wink from him now and then as one of his guards would mistake me for Moira and announce that the princess was approaching. It was nothing more than a merry little game.

Of course, now that Moira’s is screwing the royal lineage with Emperor Dagran Thaurissan’s seed, I wisely keep me distance these days!