Journal of the White Wolf, Ilythyrra Irythil



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    Ches 25

    Long have I journeyed after the wars for Myth Drannor, and though these lands are different, the crusade is the same. I have accepted the brand of the Warband and act as the sword of my people - though it has come at a cost. I am Hrayek - severed from my pack. Though it strikes me like cold iron to the core, a crusader must always know loss.


    Ches 30

    These lands are filled with corruption, decay, and those of lesser station; a true assault on my senses with every step. In spite of this, the Triune Goddess has imbued in me the conviction to face such abominations. Naught but a fortnight after our arrival, the Bladedancer and I have amassed a band worthy of the People - though many of them speak as if they have rounded their own ears. Most of them will die in this war, and as such, perhaps it is best they think as the lesser races do--naively.


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    Tarakh 5

    The Daughter of the Night Skies continues to bless me by piercing the veil of the Luminous Cloud. Omens and prophecies brought forth to the People, yet most dismiss them as children's tales. Oft reminded and more oft ignored, they shall reap the consequences should they forget the grace of the Seldarine. Regardless, it is my task as the White Wolf to keep them from straying too far from the path. The Bladedancer does well, but he is a warrior first and foremost and not a caretaker.


    Tarakh 8

    Home of the people. Realm of sweet magic, land of the light; long have I tarried away from thy forests, long lie the shadows that darken to night. East blow the breezes that carry the fragrance of Evermeet’s shore, and soon the realms will in truth be forgotten, as thy lost, wayward child returns home once more.

    By Correlon's might, we will crush our enemies and erect the flags of the Phoenix in these lands and forests. The People will be victorious as our arrows fly swift and our blades strike true. We remember cities now in ruin and forests murdered, yet still we sing to the stars and hope for renewal. As Myth Drannor's fate was forged in crusade, so too shall the future of these lands - our enemies will not feel the respite the mercy; all will fall to the fire of the Phoenix


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