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by Lianellie Quinne on Jul 30, 2015 at 07:44 PM
30 July 35LC

It's been a while since I've written in this, actually since I have left the League. A lot has happened, and all of my thoughts have been kind of accumulated in my mind but there is too much to write down. I will just start with what happened last evening. Never did I get a chance to really work with other groups when I was with the league, there was that one time where we set out with the dwarves of the dwarven vanguard, but that was so long ago, it's hard to remember what all had happened, but last night it felt good to assist with the objectives of others.

We went to Tanaan, a forest in what was the new portal that had opened up into Draenor. Never once did I ever expect to step foot into such a strange land, but it was really an eye opening experience. The beauty of the area was unmistakable, even despite the devastation the so-called iron horde had created. I couldn't help but stare at all the wonders but there really wasn't much time to gawk at the landscape.

When I was placed into the group I was set to work with several different types of people. I was working with a druid and I hadn't really gotten a chance to know one besides Sergeant Nevermore, but he was hardly ever around so this was kind of the first time I had ever really seen one in action. The way he had shifted into a bear is still extremely fascinating to me, and how they can do so without being in pain is just amazing, then to go around and fight, it was truly a sight to see. I am really glad I got to witness it, I had also worked with several others, and to be able to help them, I feel a sense of respect for all f them, it's really a good feeling to know that I can go outside the clergy to help out and actually make a difference with people.

I guess I am glad that I could take my mind off of my worries and just do some good for people, that's what I've wanted all along and I had always felt like I was hindered by my affiliations before but not anymore.
by Captain Gilneas on Jul 04, 2015 at 09:26 AM
Entry Fifteen:

I wasn't always angry, but I have always had a temper. Even as a child, I remember fighting the other children who would tease me endlessly about my stature and status. They would push me until that temper gave me no other choice save to act out. When I met Donovan Atraides, my first lover, that temper quelled and he ignited my passions, encouraging me to use art, dance, and sex as outlets for my anger. I think that was one of the only things about Donovan that my father embraced and led him, towards the end, to accept about our relationship.

With Donovan, my father knew that I'd excel in the King's Army.

I became truly angry, enough that it felt like a parasite that was eating away at me when I found them both dead. I don't know how or when my father became afflicted, but as the change was destroying my father, he killed Donovan. I don't doubt that Donovan was trying to help him not knowing that the change itself would kill my father.

That anger fueled me against the Forsaken invasion that would make us flee Gilneas. It served a purpose and as I sailed with my countrymen to Darnassus, my anger had quieted and I had found purpose.

It wasn't my anger that had me dismissed as a squire during my original time in Northshire, it was my snark. It was my curiosity and the endless questions that I asked regardless of the lesson. My hunger to learn and to understand was an intensity that the Paladins I trained under had little patience for and tired of quickly. When they dismissed me and recommended me for service in the Grand Alliance Army, I followed their recommendation, but that anger had returned.

I fought, using that anger as my weapon against the Horde and my own comrades. Their endless harassment of my culture, the endless verbal torment due to my culture and country, amounted to far more disciplinary actions than is acceptable within the Army and again, I found myself dismissed.

Even after meeting Baron Cedric Belcarthe, I raged. We raged. I found that in shedding the armor I had constructed for myself that fed into the stereotype of a lowborn southern woman, I was on fire. That fire could be hidden, forgotten, and left unattended by the alcohol I drank. I didn't realize for many years that in my drunken states, my anger was only manifesting itself in another way. Recklessness.

I stopped drinking when we made it to the Kingdom of Lordaeron restored, I stopped drinking because I was pregnant. We hid it as best we could, it was no one's business but our own. We hid it well. I was almost five months along when we went to Myrwood within the Blackmarsh. Again, I found myself fighting heart and soul for a country I cared little about with the belief that if I fought hard enough, I could go home. That this child that was growing inside of me would know Gilneas.

I didn't expect to see what I saw there. I didn't expect to be asked to use scourge constructs to defeat the Argent Crusaders we came across. I couldn't do it. Nor could I handle the truth of what occured after I fled the battlefield. I spoke of it all in hopes that there would be retribution for the acts, hoping that among these people of the North, there was some good.

I believed whole-heartedly that I found that good with Lord Viktor Romel, a Gilnean like myself. He guided me in my desire to speak of the truth and when I did, he offered to fight my battle. I foolishly denied him that, I was ordered by the King-Consort to prove that the Light protected me and my truth in battle against Sir Terrien Ashmoor, a death knight. The Light did not protect me. I was called a liar in my defeat, but my life was spared in an act of mercy. The life inside me was not granted that same mercy and my anger returned.

To protect me, Lord Romel sent me to learn the ways of the Light so that my honesty could be rewarded. He wanted a 'paragon' of Gilneas beside him and he knighted me for my actions before he recommended that exile myself to Whitereach and plead with Thane Harold Hargrave to grant me protection until such a time that I could safely return to the Queen's Gilneas Legion.

Through my conversations with the Thane, my anger was quelled. I didn't need to protect myself, and for the first time since I had met Baron Cedric Belcarthe, I found myself figuratively unarmed and unarmored in the presence of another. We spoke for hours, and I entertained the idea of remaining in Whitereach until the entire mess blew over. It was in Whitereach that I had the passing hope that Baron Belcarthe and I could try again. I didn't yet believe that Sir Ashmoor's blade had forever tainted me.

But it was not in Whitereach that I remained, under the recommendation of Thane Hargrave, I sought out an exiled Lord to train me in the ways of the Light. There were few others, he told me, that could train a woman such as myself. Again, I found that it was purpose and not anger that drove me to Ravenwood to plead my case to Lord Theodore Varill. My case was pleaded, and I was accepted as a Squire. Not since I had fled Gilneas had I been so happy.

Sir Varill's patience was nearly infinite for my questions and he never forced my faith in any entity of men. We would speak in depth about the troubles of the lands, and our experiences - how they shaped us, how they would always shape us, and how we could use them as tools. I was allowed to roam Ravenwood freely, and I did so. I devoured books, planted Gilnean Black apple trees and learned every aspect of the land I could on the back of Drelys. Even without Baron Belcarthe's presence, I grew, and I found peace.

When Sir Varill allowed for the Argent Confessor Padija Delvanna to join us in Ravenwood to assist with my training by teaching me the philosophies of the Light, I flourished in my life and in my lessons. When I left Ravenwood, it was usually alongside Sir Varill in every instance save one. I was pregnant again.

The Baron and I slipped away to Greymoon Isle when we learned of it, again keeping the secret close to ourselves as we were wed in the Blackwald by Lord Nicholas Graveshire. When we finally returned, things around us were beginning to change. Lord Romel was asking to speak with me almost constantly, I thought we were building a rapport, but he was adamant that I remained silent on what I had witnessed in Myrwood. I felt hunted and it was Thane Hargrave who warned me that I would be. Soon.

It was Sir Varill who informed me that the Argent Crusade had launched an investigation, he told me of what had happened to the Crusaders I tried to save in Myrwood. We both knew that my testimony had to be heard by the Crusade, even if it meant that he would be betraying his Queen, he believed that the betrayal would be understood as an action made for the good of her kingdom. We began to train harder. I had to survive. I heard that statement from him so many times that I was beginning to think it was a greeting. I had to survive.

I was seven weeks pregnant when I felt that life slip from me. Confessor Delvanna tried to tell me that it wasn't Sir Ashmoor's blade that was doing this to me. She tried to tell me that the first was an unfortunate repercussion of the fight I had against him. She tried to tell me that this time, it was just a thing. She tried to tell me these things, as she knew from her own experiences. Instead of becoming angry with the loss of my second child, I became more focused. The idea of serenity that eluded me for so long was an idea I finally found.

Two days after I lost that life, Sir Varill and I departed for Myrwood. Confessor Delvanna was escorted to the wall so that she could safely make her way to Greymoon Isle and gain passage back to the Argent holdings. As we traveled, Sir Varill and I spoke in depth about how I was to deliver the information, what I would say. He promised that we would live through this.

We did not know for certain that my life was at risk, but we believed that on that battlefield, I would have no friends save for him and my husband. He promised to remain with me. It was a promise that could not be kept. As we arrived, we found the Scourge was there as well as the Argents. Our orders were clear. Baron Belcarthe and I were to stand with the Queen's Gilneas Legion. As was discussed, I followed my orders and fought valiantly using the Light as it had been taught to me.

When the fight ended, I was unarmed quickly by my countrymen and arrested. Were it not for Sir Varill's hasty return, my voice would've been silenced long before I ever had the chance to speak. But it was he who sent the Argents to me and the Gilneans who sought to end my life. Baron Belcarthe and I were arrested by the Crusaders and taken to Hearthglen. Even then, I was not angry.

I spent three weeks in the jail cells there before I was released and asked to remain in Hearthglen for a time. It was there that I became pregnant again. I expected to lose the child, but this one clung to life as if she was my gift for doing what was right. I was kept away from the news out of the Blackmarsh and I was cared for throughout my pregnancy. I carried my daughter to term, but when I gave birth to her, the only warmth to her body was mine. Baron Belcarthe and I buried her in Hearthglen and alongside Confessor Delvanna, we departed for Gilneas.

Cedric and I tried to have children two more times, both pregnancies ended in a miscarriage and a stillbirth. The last one destroyed me. I wasn't angry, but I was destructive and heartbroken. In that heartbreak, I sent Confessor Delvanna away, believing that the Light I had so tenaciously sought, was forsaking me.

My anger didn't return until Baron Belcarthe heard tell of the portal reopening. He took our men from Saelborough to join the Alliance forces in fighting against the Iron Horde. But, it wasn't his departure that angered me. It was who he was going with that drove me to call him a traitor. I knew her name well, Chiara Bellafiore, I knew of the past he had with her and after such destructive behaviour and the loss of our children, I felt as if I were slighted. I knew that my husband would not return with me. And knew that beside him in Draenor, he would have a woman he loved. One whose body had not been as tainted as I believed mine to be.

I didn't know then that it was my own destructive behaviour and weakness for the apple brandy I made that was leading my tragic reproductive issues.

As angry as I was with my husbands departure, I abdictated my titles and released him from his vows to me. I left Saelborough for Greymoon Isle not knowing the continuing heartbreak I would find there.

Both my anger and heartbreak, however, were contended with. They gave way to purpose, and that purpose was singular enough. Return to the Light. I did not expect to find Sir Varill on my path back to the Light, but yet, I did. In him, I could still see and feel his love for his squire, but there was regret. I had failed him, I felt as if I had failed him by forsaking my lessons in the Light due to my own selfish need to wallow in my heartbreak. It was not a disappointment that I could allow to stand. he had lost so much in protecting me, that it was my love for my mentor that drove me tenaciously, stubbornly, to seek out a new mentor and find my way to the Light.

While I have found that path under the guidance of Baron Erich Manstein and the College of Canons, I find that I'm falling back on old habits. Old angers that I cannot even explain to myself. I have a feeling that they are all tied to a loss that I have been unable to bring myself to accept until it was forced upon me.

While Sir Varill lives, he is lost to me. Never again will he be the one to teach me. Never again will our conversations guide me on this path. While he lives, he is dead for me.

And it's that loss that enrages me. It's that loss that breaks me.

And in answering a question that was posed to my by Archbishop Moorwhelp last night:

No, your Grace. I'm not okay. I have brought terrible consequences upon myself and I have lost my husband, I have lost my greatest friend, and yet, the loss that I grieve daily, is the loss of a man who neither my lover, nor my friend and in spite of that, my love for him, to this day, is the greatest love I feel. In my grief, he inspires me. His actions are those that I can only aspire to. I have lost my mentor and I cannot stop seeing any others as imposters and replacements.

That is what I hold against you. That is what I hold against Baron Manstein.

That is why I am so furious.
by Captain Gilneas on Jun 25, 2015 at 09:59 AM
Entry Five:

Tenacity is a trait that I don't expect from others. It's been said that I am tenacious to a fault. It's been said that my unwillingness to give up has had a detrimental impact on many of the goals I chase after. I know no other way though. It's the fight that drives me and tenacity is it's own fight. We must fight for what we want in life, we must fight to achieve our goals, and must fight for the people we love - even the outcome may not be the one we want. My tenacity to pursue my heart destroyed my friendship with Lord Graveshire. My tenacity to know the truth of Lord Hargrave's actions may just get me killed. My tenacity to ensure that Sir Varill's sacrifice was not in vain has and is driving me to be a better person, even if I am loathe to show that woman to others.

I tenaciously present the worst aspects of myself so that there are lowered expectations of me. It's not that I think I am incapable of rising to a higher expectation, I fear disappointing those who have invested time and effort into my well-being, I fear disappointing myself and yet, each time I present myself as a crass, uneducated, Gilnean soldier I am a disappointment to myself. What's odd about that is how many still fight for that guarded facade. Either they are able to see through it, or they are drawn to those rough edges.

I feel that the time to shed that facade and rise up to be the woman I can and aim to be has come. Baron Erich Manstein has accepted me along with another woman, as his squire. Due to his age, he will be training us in the Light alone. He has asked me to train the other squire, a woman known only as Harper, in martial combat. Harper has found amusement in my rough edges, I see it in her expressions and her smile. She doesn't understand that in order to ensure her survival, she will hate me as much as I hope she comes to value out comraderie. I was taught to fight relentlessly. To let nothing get past your armor. I was taught to only give up when you are dead. And I was taught that your enemy is never your friend. She'll find that when we step into sparring grounds, she is not my friend. She is my student. I've already dislocated her jaw and I fear that I will break her many more times in this process, but she will learn.

And she will be strong.

She has the same tenacity that I have. I didn't expect to see it, but I will embrace her for it. I will ensure that when she steps into a battlefield, she will walk off it. Alive.

Harper is not the only example of tenacity that has surprised me recently. As of late, I have been actively pursued by a Stromic man named Vangrim. He calls himself 'the Imminent' but is known as the 'War Chef'. His tenacity earned him a date, if it meant he'd go away. But he has not gone away. As much as he annoys me at times, his interest in me has reinforced a reminder that I do not need to fight for the love of a man who can never return the emotion. He has shown me in beautiful and awkwardly chaste ways that I am a woman of elegance and beauty. Through his eyes, I can see myself and I know what I am.

I am a strong Gilnean woman of unexpected intelligence, and a great beauty. And while I have never relied on my beauty, nor thought much on it, I know that I am.

His rough edges have softened mine. I do not forsee a long-term future with him, but his company is enjoyable. Tomorrow, he will be taking me to purchase armor for my fellow squire so that she may come to her lessons prepared. He is proving to be a strong friend and ally.

While I have seen the face of the simplicity and subtle life I want once I have become the woman I know resides inside me, Vangrim has reminded that she is there.

Training will take me away from sleeping on the benches of the Cathedral, but I am still drawn to them in hopes that I will see Sir Varill one more time. So that I can tell Sir Varill what I have learned, that his efforts will be continued by the Baron Manstein. It would break apart of me to see that he has lost hope in me. He may no longer be my mentor on this path, but I tenaciously seek out his guidance still. Our path together has not ended, I feel that it is an absolute.

The College of Canons has accepted me. Baron Manstein is squiring me. I will not fail you, Sir Varill.

The Light guides me.
by Maeriann on Nov 05, 2014 at 12:43 PM

Maeriann looked up from the table and could see the light of the moon shining through the rose window, hitting the stone floor of the nave. The candle nearby flickered and a late night silence crept over the Cathedral. She took her quill, tapped it on the edge of the inkwell and her words began to fall onto the parchment below.

Dear Most Holy Father,

My life has bared witness to considerable change in these past months. If I could place my finger upon a phrase that constituted the current state of affairs, I would choose ‘thunderous’.

As the storm rolls in across the hills and over the plains, the ominous sounds of thunder crashing and impending doom strikes fear into our hearts. However, this perilous and ill-boding herald is often false in his cries. His promises of calamity are often empty, and those brave enough to remain firm in their faith are rewarded with life-giving tears poured from the sky.

This storm may yield real dangers, for which I shall prepare myself for any contingency. The Church shall remain stalwart as the very stone foundation on which it is built. While our flock may scatter in the face of adversity, the shepherd will inspire hope and courage.

Most Holy Father, I must put this to you: Who cares for the shepherd?

The shepherd, robust and ever intrepid, is still human and susceptible to feelings of sadness, love, hope, anger and envy. I have established an ethic of duty first and self second, but I still yearn for guidance myself. Selfish as I may be in this request, I cannot deny my truth. I cannot deny how often I wish for your presence.

You have inspired my very faith and devotion in the Light from whence I first stepped into the Cathedral of Light. Your teachings cultivated my fealty. Your service to the Church stirred the introspection of how I value charity and beneficence. While time continues on and I grow in my wisdom, I still ask for your direction.

Forever unworthy I shall be in a seat such as this. While you sequester for matters of contemplation and deep thought, I send this letter to you with the hope that it will inspire you to return. Our Kingdom hungers for their Most Holy Shepherd and I selfishly shall join in their plea.

Please, Most Holy Father, come back to us.


~Superior Mother Maeriann
Auxiliary Bishop of Stormwind

A few tears rolled off Maeriann's cheek and splashed onto the parchment. She used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe her face and quickly hide any evidence of her sorrow. She then grabbed for the red sealing wax to her right and held it in the flame of the candle. After pressing the wax into the base of the letter, she plunged the official episcopal stamp down.
by Loshai on May 10, 2014 at 11:23 PM
(1)Greetings people of Stormwind from the Clergy of the Light. (2)I go by the name of Loshai as a brother of the light. (3) I write this letter to you for immediate action in your province of Westfall. (4)You may be living comfortably in your homes with the most amounts of food but unto you brothers and sisters I say to look towards Westfall. (5)From the teachings of the light we learn to be compassionate to those in need so you should help those in need. (6)If you have 2 loaves of bread give one to the wretch in rags rather than your glutenous desires. (7)If you lose one sandal riding on a cart toss the other rather than find the one you lost. (8)For that sandal brings comfort to one who blisters his feet farming for food that barely exists. (9)To you who hires the prostitute in goldshire, give the whore's pay to the church for we bring food and clothes to those in need. (10)The coin you give provides the funding for that food and clothes. (11)And finally to the tailor who puts his hand made robes on the auction house for money, give it to the man in Westfall, freezing and dying providing for his sickly children. (12)Abide by these words and the light shall grant many blessings upon you and your kin. (13)Disobey my words and the light shall give you your just due.
by Moldorov on Oct 19, 2012 at 11:16 AM
Cicero Moldorov, Devout of the Church of Light
Age of the Fading Mists

I have arrived at the Cathedral of Light after a hard days work assisting Stormwind with the means to aid those on the front with healing and prayer. As I look around I spot many men and women making peaceful chatter amongst themselves, the soothing flow of the fountain's waters filling in the background. I make my way up to the Cathedral of Light where stations the Clergy of the Holy Light. I make my way into the hall to find a ceremony taking place in the Hall of Light where prayers and benedictions take place.

I fill into the crowd gathered around. Obviously, someone is to become anointed perhaps? A proud day for the Clergy as the priesthood increases day by day. As for I, my loyalty will be with whomsoever devouts themselves to the Light, that they in so doing, would give their lives for the good of the church. But what is good? What is good that what bad may substitute its benevolence for so much despair, fear, and doubt in the world?

I have joined the Clergy and I humbly give myself to their teachings willingly. Though for my philosophy on the Light, I still have much to learn. My goal is to covert the populace that they may follow the Light's ways. The Discipline of Light will have a good example of what I mean to create into a new text called, The Stoicism of the Holy Light. Which will teach us how to behave if we are to accept the Light's Graces and understand its nature. "To be filled with doubt and shadow, is to be weak and helpless", is what my father taught me as a boy, just as I was becoming an altarboy for his parish. On the contrary for this philosophy, if one is to become disciplined in the Light's Graces, one must put aside these feelings of not just fear, doubt, and despair, but feelings of self-consciousness as well. To be stoic in the face of the Light is to know wisdom at its heart.

For this occasion, I might as well bring along some ink and quill to write my thesis on what it means to be Stoic in the Light's Holy Rays. Perhaps tomorrow if Bishop Moorwhelp can supply me with the books I need to complete my endeavor.

by Trenta on Apr 25, 2012 at 07:05 AM
I struggle with forgiveness. I don't know how others do it so easily, letting it slide from their backs like water from a leaf. My father has become neutral. For all intensive purposes, though he does not follow darkness, he does not follow light. It's hard to see if that is a loss or a victory for me, but he's stopped killing, and lives for my mother.

Mother....She has said she has forsaken the darkness, but to what end? I believe it's taken her sanity and it's all I can do to stand there and watch them crawl. To see my parents half way out of the pits of darkness, only to know they have a long way to go, and don't want my help.

I am angry at them for that. I brood and hurt and it's all I can do to keep from taking it out on my sweet Lucian. I am so lost, and the light is silent in its answers. Perhaps the silence is the answer. How can I forgive a lifetime of hate and hurt, and welcome my parents to the light? That said, if they come to it at all.

I struggle for answers constantly in my tomes and books. I seek answers to expedite their healing, but I don't think that is even possible, I can write no more, and must return to my studies.

I found another book on the twilight sect, maybe it can give me some clue as to help them.

Viola Stanbridge (Clergy of the Holy Light)
Betrothed to Lucian (Clergy of the Holy Light)
Daughter of Artirus Stanbridge and Rachet Stanbridge (Echos of the lost)
by Rennali Sunwhisper on Mar 01, 2012 at 07:59 AM
March 1st

It is wrong for a bishop to cry. We are meant to be the pillar of peace and serenity for the rest of the congregation - a thick layer of skin that covers up our body and makes us impervious to any emotional attack. Why does writing that make me feel as if I am slipping into some inhumane state? I don't want to lose connections with my brothers and sisters, but if I were to be the way my heart feels, I know that I wouldn't be looked up to for much longer. Times I have found myself teetering on the brink of losing myself to the hatred and darkness, but I have stayed my tongue and felt that bitterness fester in the depths of my heart. When head back to my small house on the skirts of the citadel, I fall into my bed and find myself crying uncontrollably. If the Light wishes to teach me something, I will listen to the best of my ability. I'm just not sure how much longer I will be able to withstand wearing two masks.

Tenevus is a strong-willed man. I know this to be true. Working with him in the Regiment, he seemed to have a clear, cool head about things - even when the situation could have possibly driven a normal man to questionable piety. I respected him for keeping an optimistic view about things and I found myself drawn to him at one point. But now as I see him for what he is beneath the shiny armour, I am not so certain that he is the man he makes everyone believe he is. There are many things about the church that I find disagreeable. Things that should probably change as they are outdated. However, the things he teaches are contradictory and heretical. Why would a Paladin "adjust" the tenets to suit their needs? This is where confusion and darkness can enter. I've tried to explain this to him but he seems sucked into his own fantasy of what things should be. I fear that when he comes to teach the younger generation of Paladins, he will instill the idea that they don't need the Mother Church. Such things would break my heart.

Watching him accuse people and watching his "Silver Hand" Paladins become their own power-play political movement has broken my heart. Their ill-fated decisions have become public knowledge - as has the Prioress' and my decision when we threw them from the Abbey. Never had I the idea to remove them to keep them from doing or saying something untoward - but I suppose that the new Paladin teachings neglect to push for common decency and thinking before you act or speak. I watched - in the walls of Father Faol's home - as they desecrated the very foundations upon which Paladins were created. I wanted to scream: You were once priests! You were once scholars and men who knelt before the altar for days at a time to meditate on the will of the Light! What happened to you?

They wouldn't listen even if I had. I know this.

Now Paladins are viewed as being nothing more than Light-flinging, hammer-wielding bullies. were it my choice, I would demand that all Paladins practice themselves as Priests before being able to advance into the use of armour and maces. Teach them from the beginning. Make them don the habit at all times and teach them a bit of humility. Father Drakewing was correct when he wrote in the Book of Second Beginnings: "...we wear the habit and sandals to speak that without any clothes, we would still have faith and that would be enough." Bless you, Aros.

Naevius... Naevius... Naevius... Out of the darkness and into the sun. Who could have ever expected that the beast could learn to be a kind individual? Since he and I spoke - albeit it being forced by the hand of his daughter Mareleth - he has proven to me that perhaps he wasn't the angry, dark-seeded individual that I initially believed him to be. I know the story about the Scarlet Remnants. He told me the whole truth and didn't flinch once when he told me the story. Mind you, I hadn't known Sir Lothnil or Sir Corinthal had anything to do with it (although it isn't really surprising), but I feel in my heart he is innocent. Perhaps it is my womanly nature getting the best of my mind, but, I look upon him and I have no fear. When he revealed to me his true face - the one beneath the mask - I knew him. As he removed his mask, I lifted my own and revealed myself to him. There, at the waters of the falls, we shared our true selves and I believe now that my faith in him is increased exponentially.

With every peace there is an urge to cry. However, just when the darkness begins to sink in, the sun comes to shine upon it and I happily open the windows to let it in.

Someday, I will see the church restored to its former glory. Someday.
by Alonsus on Jun 07, 2011 at 04:58 PM
Day One

Expectations, appointments, discussion Creation Myths

Day Two

Where were we last time in our lessons?
As we learned from out last lesson on creation, mortal beings have always searched for answers among the heavens.
The search for understanding the world around us through thelogy and philosophy stretches as far back in every race as recorded history does.
We know of the Draenei's teachings that they have been evangelized through the Naaru, and many beautiful myths exist of explaining all of the race's conceptions.
During this age of revelation for humanity, which many of the church's roots can be traced to, mankind was in its infancy as compared to the other inhabitants of Azeroth and were only just starting to form semi-permanent settlements for the sake of farming.
While the High Elves secluded themselves in their magical realm, much like the dwarves who stray not far from their ancestral mountains, and the Trolls marched across the lands building and expanding their vast empires in the glory of their loa gods, humans were little more than tribal wanderers following stable food sources from place to place in an attempt to survive the sometimes harsh and unforgiving environments off of the limited supplies their forerunners granted them.
The only real documentation of the nature of early human institutionialization of religion is what can be recovered from ancient folklore, perhaps also derived originally from the forerunners of humanity before taken into the hands of their cursed children.
According to the sparse amount of known history that can be recovered from this time period, there existed many temple and cult followings of various godheads and pious philosophies, and the tension of the genuinity of the faiths remained an item of bloodshed and tribal wars.
However, the main item of worship and philosophical scholastics was a titanic watcher, known simply as Tyr.
The story of Tyr slipped into memory long ago. The stories and scrolls of old spoke of a great leader, a paragon of order and justice, who sacrificed his right hand in a fight against an unfathomable evil.
Although it was within this hero's power to fix his hand after the fighting had ended, the hero instead chose to replace it with a closed fist made of the purest silver.
In this way, the hero, Tyr, impressed upon those who followed him that true order and justice can only be accomplished through personal sacrifice.
Those who were truly devout in this cause of helping others in a way that is good and holy found divine favor through healing magics. They were exalted for miracle working despite harsh persecution by other faith groups, and the faith spread like holy fire.
The school of philosophy and idolization of the titan watcher and his beautiful story, for the most part, spread to all of the tribes to some degree or another. The merit of the story was no longer simply a stray following, and arguably contributed to the developement of the empire.
Beautiful buildings were built in honor of the faith and the great persecution it was met with by established faiths, and the buildings were filled with monastics - frairs and monks - devoted to living in sacrifice, and other buildings with presbyters, devoted to preaching the faith, and vindictators, devoted to serving justice and order as Tyr served.
The faith encouraged charity and good will over the zealous contribution to war seen by previous faiths.
The beginning of the institutionalization and philosophical scholastics had been planted through this cooperation and formation of what would soon be the empire, well on its way to make its permanent mark on the face of the world.

Day Three

The followers of Tyr were no longer a minor sect.
Their feverous evangelism of the gospel of self sacrifice was long since paid off, and there was a monastery in nearly every parish. With the rise of the instititionalization of the philosophy of Tyr came the rise of the Arathorian Empire.
The City of Strom and many major cities wrought with theological debate that was no longer the likes of pantheons of gods and children bed time stories.
While all apart of a mostly peaceful communion of faith, each monastery remained autonomous and thus had a different way of honoring the sacrifice and a different message to take from it.
It wasn't long until the lack of central authority resulted in countless denominations and understandings of the faith, resulting in the eventual decline of major institutionalized Tyr reverence.
A group of monks left the empire in favor of a life of contemplation and careful study. They traveled a great distance away from the seat of power in the City of Stromgarde.
Though no relaible records remain of the journey that was made from the Arathi Highlands, it is known that the monks eventually settled in a relatively secluded area they dubbed "The Valley of the North Shrine".
The monks evenetually became the Holy Order of Northshire Clerics, and were regarded as men and women of thought and contemplative life, but none the less on fire for their faith.
The North Shrine clerics did some of the major thought on the true nature of divinity that has contributed impacted divine study even now. They began to focus on these divine gifts that the most pious clerics were miraculously gifted and discerned that they had direct correlation with divine will.
While still adhering to the virtue of self sacrifice and reverence to the Tyrian stories, the hierarchy of the Northshire clerics devoted their undying devotion to a sentient and singular divinity that these holy powers proceeded from and that was pleased with the work of the clerics.
The holy contemplative order began training evangelistic friars in the tradition of the Tyrian faith to spread the fruit of faith from their countless decades of contemplation, study, and adherence to self sacrifice while continuing their studies for years and years to come.

Day Four

/rw The bells of the monastery rise and fall solemnly. Eight monotonous notes follow after.
Light of Repose, guide us in our studies and lead us to interpretation that is good and holy.
/e douses each cleric with holy water, an ancient way of ceremoniously cleansing iniquities.
For ages and ages folowing the decline of the Arathorian Empire and the rise of Stormwind, the exceptionally blessed Clerics of North Shrine, or the Holy Order of Northshire Clerics, continued their divinity studies in the confines of monasteries and began to preach it not only in cities, but on frontiers of humanity and to their allies.
And thusly, two worlds of the early church began to evolve, the original contemplative order of studious monks, dedicating their lives to the discernment of the Light's Will and personal sacrifice, and the preachers and priests that looked to spread the faith.
The monastery and the church-building were all brought to new meeting in the trappings of holy liturgy.
Hundreds were won into the faith the clerics instilled in them with every apostolic sermon given. The Church of the Holy Light was brought into conception.
A great change began to take place amongst this time of great evangelization. The clerics began to further discern divinity and instill their findings accordingly. The age of revelation of the Holy Light was at hand.
A very important cleric was raised as the patron of this era of revelation. We call him Saint Alonsus Faol.
He is partially responsible for the erecting of the Three Most Holy Cardinal Virtues, Respect, Tenacity, and Compassion, that guide every follower today. He professed that the Holy Light, this one divinity, was inherent moral goodness and beautiful reflection of the soul.
He taught that this Light was a result of the conscious benevolent thought and action taken in all times, all place, and within all things.
He surmised that the forces of the universe, Light and Shadow, are a direct reflection of the moral and immortal actions of those who inhabited it.
As the influence and power of the Church increased, it elected Saint Alonsus as its holy Archbishop, a title of almost absolute sovreignity over the Church.
The holy church's clerics, priests and monks alike, continued to work to spread the good word of the Light and build many cathedrals, church buildings, monasteries, and arguably most importantly for the course of humanity, libraries.
For the first time in recorded history, humanity was almost completely united in their faith in the most Holy Light that we adore.

Day Five

Some time after the coronation of Alonsus Faol to Archbishop, the First Orcish War began.
The clerics argued of the source. Whether it was a curse from the Holy Light for humanity's wrongdoings, demons sent forth by a hellish lord, or simply a test of faith, they agreed that the Church was to do its part by aiding its holy gifts of healing to the preservation of Stormwind and the holy abbey.
The clerics focused on the defense of the Kingdom, as they felt that the gate unleashing whatever unholiness that leaked through would not prevail if they had held to tenacity. The clerics held out and many of them where assumed into the Light after they were slain in their righteous defense.
However, in the end, the Abbey was overcome by the orcish Hordes and was demolished, and the holy city of Stormwind was inhabited by orcs. The Archbishop, now St. Faol, and the rest of the remaining southern clergy made way with the rest of the survivors to the shores of Lordaeron, where they met now St. Terenas and his armies and the bulk of the northern clergy.
With this defeat, the First Orcish War ended, but the worst was to come. The clerics and the church as a whole, however, lost no faith. Despite the loss of the bulk of their records and greatest holy relics, the Church presses on with the revitalized Alliance.
The Archbishop Faol was a wise man, and knew that the Alliance would be decimated and humanity ended if he did not make radical change in the church. He founded the Holy Order of the Knights of the Silver Hand, commemerating the Tyrian myth, as a holy weapon for the war.
The new Order was armored in holy plate and wielded holy magic not unlike the holy priests and clerics before them. Highlord Uther was coronated the Grand Master of this new holy order, and the holy paladins turned the tide of the war.
Can anyone tell me the first five paladins that were anointed?
Though Lordaeron was greatly affected and many martyrs were made, the war ended in victory for the Alliance. The orcs were chased to the Dark Portal and the Dark Portal was destroyed.
The Church was left to recuperate from its major losses of holy clerics. The Archbishop ordered several new churches built in honor of all of the martyrs that were made, including the Cathedral of Light. The Abbey was rebuilt.
The Church suffered the loss of the Light's Dawn Cathedral. The King Greymane demanded that the clerics inside of the Greymane wall were loyal to him after its erection, and the Cathedral, its bishop, and its clergy were shut off from the rest of the Church world.
The Church's standing on the camps of orcs that were made was diverse, however most agreed that this was a sign of mercy to a devilish race and that it was their only chance to ever become civilized.
Not long after the Cathedral of Light was finished, the Archbishop Faol died in his old age. While the Church was solemnly and truly regretful, they were confident that Faol watched over them through the Light and named him a saint. The question over who would inherit his cathedra was at hand.

by Relond on Feb 01, 2011 at 03:57 PM
-This book can be found in the library that's located at the Northshire Abbey-

Day 0 - Prologue:

Today is Monday, January 31 and I'm currently located at Raven Hill's abandoned inn. This is my first day of the vast pilgrimage and from stormwind I decided to head southern. Me and a dwarf brother named Vorkus are heading out and away from the clergy to attempt to fix ourselves. I don't know why he decided to tag along but all I know I must mature mentally and. . . .emotionally. Lately, I been getting emotional shifts from anger to happiness and back down in a snap. This is a problem for me as I can't seem to get ahold of myself. I fear my passion have tainted me with shadow energy something bad or I'm just been too obsessive about her. She is probably the only person I'll miss during my entire Pilgrimage, My dearly beloved friend Tia. Anyways aside from that, me and vorkus seen something not even the light can explain. Stormwind lack of detication of neighbors. I have been to westfall for the very first time and it wasn't a pleasant sight at all. As soon as I walked into the area I seen a bunch of people eating mud. Their clothing was torn and destroyed even the children suffer from such. . . things. I looked away as soon as possible as this sight have pierced my very heart, even humans can be assholes to each other. The land was ruined by extreme ammounts of cyclones,elementals,thugs and the worst of it all. . . .an elemental warp in the middle of Wetlands it seems. The land was forsaken from stormwind eyes and it filled me with such sorrow and anger. . .I'll head back there once more to give out prayers. After the trip to wetlands we went into Raven Hill, The land was dark and eerie at first I thought it was just the trees covering the sky but. . . I was wrong. Tonight I sleep in an old inn that smells heavily like death and worgen piss. Ugh, I hope we move on from here soon. . . .soon.

Day 1 - Undead breaks loose

Damn Vorkus scared the living fel out me this morning! While I was asleep he started clanking bones together and doing light moans. When I heard that I sprang up to my feet thinking that the undead overran the inn. Thank the light that it wasn't that ugh. We went over to Darkshire and to my surprise I found a High Priestess of the Night Watch. She was a Draenei woman standing around my own height with elegantly curved horns a tender blue skin. We all sat down and we started speaking about Duskwood and it's areas. She handed us a map of the area and marked the areas that was plagued with the undead. I'm going to head off and purge them tomorrow night for sure. Afterwards, she invited me to her room she was staying at. I must say for what was the exact reason I don't know but I broke off the tension by speaking about the pilgrimage and the reasons why I was really going around. We talked for ours and it seems she was adept in mind magic as she suppressed my emotional turmoil with a swift wipe. I soon got knocked out from this and I woke up . . . . .differently with the priest gone. I left to check on the mail to see if Tia received my letters but it seems not as I found letters from Father Moorwhelp asking for my assistance so I ran to Stormwind as quickly as possible only to meet up with Balverine. We went to Dire Maul and we teamed up with a small group of people to get a relic of time. It consisted of a bitchy warlock, quiet paladin[Balverine], Valorous Paladin, Holier than thou priest, and a priest with potential who haven't ready for battle .. . .oh right how can I forget the "I'm better than the world!" Death Knight ugh, go rot with Arthas. Anyways, we started to head through the area but I felt weird when I did so. . . .I felt strong,confident and I was quiet throughout. What ever that priest done to me it seemed to fixed me up. One thing I noticed though is the Draenei priest started to get close to me emotionally and physically, hiding behind me when danger appeared, speaking to me, even going as far as kissing me and wanting to meet me afterwards. Too bad that I still have my mind on Tia as she wasn't a bad person. . .I hope she finds someone out there. Bal swears there is something going on with me and the Draenei but little does he know. . .little does he know.

Day 2 - Change

The dwarf have disappeared from the inn it seems, hmph figures. Confident of the boost of my abilities I tackled Raven Hill by myself. I must admit that was the worst mistake and best action I took so far. Once I arrived at that location I quickly and effortlessly took down the wave of weak skeletons and mindless zombies. Heads was flying off with each slam of my staff,bodies was blown up by the holy energy and legs was running in an attempt to survive. I was slicing through the numbers like a hot knife cutting through butter but that's where it ended. Quickly a giant came along and started beating me down. . . from that encounter I don't know what I felt but it seems I seen what I really was and who I am actually. My emotions blown apart in one move as I was empowered by shadow energy. The giant still defeated me even with the comeback but. . . . .what I really am is something I don't wish to become. A cold person who care only for himself and his personal gain also made of pure hatred. Part of that stood though as it opened my eyes. I woke up soon after with some worgen that nursed me back to health, the worgen priest have stated there was a technique on the mind that was messing around with my own head. The results are permanent but it wont cause more harm anymore. We talked for hours about the situation and many of them have spoken about betrayals and such. I never liked Worgen before this and once I heard such stories I could relate to them much better than anyone else. I decided to head out with them to Gilneas and from there I will finish my Pilgrimage to the Plaguelands. I stood up on the cot and took a blade cutting off my long hair into a short spikey style. Doning the Gilnean robe they gave me since my robes got torn apart this signals that the Andy everyone knew is gone. . .I don't need anyone to show me any pity. All I need is a few close friends and the light, the clergy will be my mentor and I will live my life differently. . . to mark this change for good. . . .I will ignore my passion for Tia to me she is just a clergy member and a student nothing more. . . . after I'm done dying my hair then to Stormwind I go.

Day 3 - What's with the Draenei Women?

No seriously what is it!? I mean one day I'm just a normal dun-ho elf and the next all these Draenei ladies are coming up and giving me kisses this is like the fourth or the fifth one today! Oh well but today I met someone, someone I think we might get far with I wont do the same mistake with her as I did with Tia. I shall let it slowly go out and see what happens afterwards. Oh right before I go on about the new chick, today I went to class and it seems no one even bothered asking where is my hair,what happened, why do I have Gilnean clothing not even Mae who I used to talk to on a daily basis but oh well friends are easily replaceable. Weed out the ones who don't really care and replace them with someone better, no need to weep about it. It seems Bal got an open wound, he surprises me though as he took the pain head on while everyone was making a massive horde around him. I don't blame them though, we are all family and we should watch out for each other but that kid can take more than what people believe. Anyways, back to the lady. I ran into her once when I was picking up my custom staff from the mage's district we actually bumped into each other before giving off a good look at each other. I thought of her as a random person so I went through the day normally. I went to the blue recluse for a nice soft alcohol drink to go about my day but to my surprise she was there sitting alone. I ignored her though and found no one interesting so I placed her table on the bottom silver coin and the empty table with the top. I flipped it and it landed right on the bottom so I say with her. We talked for a while and we took a walk around the city speaking about each other and things after the walk and the rating of stormwind we went back to the mage's district and sat down watching the sunset. She asked me if I wanted to eat some dinner with her but I had to decline the offer, clergy lessons comes first. After it was done we met up again and we spoke about our past at the same spot watching the harbor then we decided to jump off the tower into the water, she held my hand tightly her skin smooth as a silk cloth. I must say this is like the day I went to the lunar festival with Tia but enough about that she is of no importance. After the swim we sat down to dry ourselves off and some worgen started calling her a whore. I noticed her ignoring the worgen group with ease and even though I wanted to shut them up I followed her actions. She had to leave for work soon after but she didn't leave without an implant on my cheek. Tomorrow I get to get ready to go towards Gilneas and it will be better, she invited me to stay at the inn she will be residing at tomorrow at Ironforge since that's the direction I'm going Only the light will know what will happen but lets see. . . . .Today was a good day, a good day indeed