The Turgid Affairs of Lady Anitra

[Cabriel]

I had to kick Lysimachus’ ass last night.

I thought stepping away from my normal stomping grounds would help me clear my head. Northrend is far enough away from Silvermoon, from Orgrimmar, from Shattrath that I imagined it to be the perfect place to hide out for a bit. I have so much to consider right now. Some cold air and seclusion would help with that…right?

Right. Until a sociopathic patriarch fel-bent on pinning the death of his nephew – MY ex-lover, my Exanimo – found out where I had gone and showed up on that ostentatious white drake of his. He actually plummeted from the sky, all scales and lights, right into the center of the settlement at New Agamand, and hardly breathed before the accusations began cascading from his mouth like so much morning after dissentery. It was so embarrassing.

According to the Marquess, I’m: a murderer, a liar, a demon-lover, a ‘helling homosexual’, a coward, and a peace-loving fiend. My affiliation with Sanctuary, in his sight, proves that I’d like nothing more than to see the Horde fall to the Alliance (which is so ridiculous I don’t even know where to begin). EVERYONE was staring. It was like the band had stopped playing, the lights had come up, and there we were.

Then that sensation came on me…the one in my sternum. That quaking feeling. The one that usually precedes my somewhat confusing and wholly terrifying transformation into…well, a demon. I did a good job of controlling myself, breathing deeply and counting to ten, all that. I had it under control until the ass slapped me in the face with his glove and told me to prepare to die.

Those people who know me are aware that dying doesn’t quite fit into my day planner.

He ran around for a bit with Flaad on his heels, cursing and squealing. I executed a basic set of curses, got a chance to use that new wand I picked up here (so good), and at the end, smacked him a few times in the mouth. The poor thing limped away, obviously surprised that I’m not the weak bundle of pacificity he believes me to be, and, because he was too concerned with insulting me at the top of his lungs…

…fell off the cliff.

I don’t know what happened after that. I made quick work of my errands in New Agamand and got the fel out of there. It’s obvious that Northrend isn’t going to be the haven I was hoping for. I suppose that’s motivation to get my affairs in order all the quicker.



pg. 235

[Lysimachus]

((It's ABOUT helling TIME you can has JOURNAL.

Lysimachus keeps a copy of "The Turgid Affairs of Lady Anitra" in his library. It's kinda become an ongoing joke in the family.))

[Vilmah]

((lol... he secretly loves Cabriel.))

[Cabriel]

((It's ABOUT helling TIME you can has JOURNAL.

Lysimachus keeps a copy of "The Turgid Affairs of Lady Anitra" in his library. It's kinda become an ongoing joke in the family.))

((That's hilarious...!))

[Cabriel]

her legs and with a triumphant “Huzzah”, emptied his reservoir of lust into her wanton basin. Lady Anitra paused in her ministrations to the other four Magisters to congratulate the fellow on his robust achievement.

“’Tis lucky for me the line of Sunscald boasts little in the way of success in breeding, otherwise henceforth the summation of this emergency council might be the inevitable question of patronage to an unwanted progeny,”

With this pronouncement came a hearty round of chortling from the committee, who then once again traded places in their covetous arrangement and began another bawdy round, renewed with the satisfaction that the way had now been paved to the center of Lady Anitra’s most sinful desire.


~*~ Thus ends 'A Tale of Civic Duty' ~*~




Possible Recipe for Flatbread (this stuff travels amazingly)

2 cups flour, sifted with salt
¼ cup goat’s milk
Brewer’s Yeast(?) – possibly regular baker’s yeast? (check with baker)
Grapeseed oil, for shallow frying

Prepare yeast. Combine flour/salt, goat’s milk, much like a normal dough, and allow to proof (20 minutes?). Flatten and shallow fry in oil until bread puffs up and browns. Serve with goat cheese. NOTE TO SELF: the best goat's milk comes from the inkeep in Vengeance Landing -- find out his name!

pg. 239

[Cabriel]

There is both a science and an art to proper domination. One must harness the wicked charlatan within, that ravenous, red-eyed beast
There is so much industry in Northrend, which makes me both excited and nervous. I saw what plague does when Silvermoon
that twists to and fro inside the deepest regions of one’s spirit, and coax him into submission. For only in the reluctants
was overrun with those shambling atrocities. I can only be so inquisitive to the army of alchemists and scientists here, since I’m merely
surrender of that spirit which craves the pain, the life fluids, the welts and bruises of life, can one dominate another. It is
functioning as a kind of mercenary to their cause, but I want to know what exactly they’re planning. I look at the Forsaken and I see my sister’s face.
in this surrender that the spirit of evil, him with the hulking member and corded muscles, gives up his secrets and techniques
I wonder what it is about undeath that makes them so fel-bent on taking their revenge on the rest of the world. I wonder what exactly IS undeath? Is
so one might properly apply them to another.
that even a word? Vilmah, Moknim, Broxigan, Amoola – they all have allowed me to realize that there are better ways to exist than just strike, be struck, retaliate, strike, be struck, retaliate. More than anything I feel like the nasty circle keeps spinning because those on both sides of whatever conflict this is love to watch it turn.

One way to begin this, for those persuaded by female anatomy and the subsequent urge to couple and fornicate, to be
Anyway, I’m not sure I should be here, helping with this. All my clothes ended up smelling like that weird chlorine, sickly-sweet vomit smell that
stretched and reformed by list’s wanton tools, is to be bound. Restraining the wrists requires precision in choice of
bubbles out from the labs. I had to burn them and find new ones. Now I look like I belong – furs, leathers, everything heavier and thicker – but
material, tightness of that material about the wrist, and the somewhat more titillating decision of which position to place the arms,
something tells me I don’t actually belong. Just biding time until I can sort out things in my head (soul?).
wrists, and hands in. Many prefer a simple leather cuff, adorned modestly with buckles and studs of silver, which attach to a cord of silk or sinew that is wound about the head posts of a bed large enough to fully prostrate and splay the restrainee. Indeed, it is this fixed position, favored highly by the Magister’s court of Silvermoon, that is clandestinely referred to as “The Sunwell”, as it exposes the magical energies of the submissive party to be drawn upon and manipulated fully by her chosen partner.

It’s been three (3) days since I changed into that horrible thing. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.


pg. 241

[Ninorra]

There is both a science and an art to proper domination. One must harness the wicked charlatan within, that ravenous, red-eyed beast

((>_>....

Really gotta read this book.))

[The_Golden_Wolf]

((I love it so far!))

[Cabriel]

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v393/Fox_and_Fire/alchemyNR1.jpg

What are they making? How much of it do they need...?

[Cabriel]

A loose half-sheet of parchment, torn from a blank back cover of the book, is folded between two pages.



Vilmah Bloodborne
Warboss, Sanctuary
Orgrimmar, Shattrath City, Dalaran
URGENT

Vilmah,

I sent three copies of this missive to you in all the hub cities. I hope I catch you before he does.

Lysimachus dej Dynastus has set his sights on Sanctuary. You'll remember him as the arrogant noble present at the Community Faire meeting. White hair? Puckered face? That's him. He's all of a sudden turned tail and sought me out last night in New Agamand to tell me he's joining us.

He's a schemer, a liar, a charlatan, a buffoon. He's concerned ONLY with furthering his own house and doesn't care what path that might take. In light of all this Onyx Sun business, I think it's crucial that we cover our butts.

Don't trust him, Vil.

~CL

P.S. Oh, did I mention he's framing me for murder? Yeah.

[Cabriel]

Vilmah wrote me back about Lysimachus. This makes me feel better.



Dear Cabriel,

Framing you for murder? I'd sooner see him hanged.

Thanks for the information.

--Vilmah

[Cabriel]

Lady Anitra was ready, and willing, and certainly able. After all, her equestrian training certainly taught her the importance of a wide stance and a fearless demeanor. She just hoped she’d be able to resist chomping at the bit. All was planned, now she had just to wait out the clock over the mantle. She would have a stiff drink before she absconded to her rendezvous, to steel herself for the hurtles she should have to clear once the moon was high.

Last night I met up with Athin in New Agamand to finally work on a portrait of him. He’d asked me a while ago, back when I was still puttering around those marshes in Outland, to do some artwork for him. I’m not sure what it was for; I didn’t ask.

We ended up in this strange cave off the strait that runs parallel to the alliance fortifications there. I thought it would be secluded enough to not have to worry about passersby asking what we were doing every fifteen minutes. It was. The art is turning out fine. I’ve decided to take a few days off from my mission to find some kind of cure for this demonic transformation thing, which I hope will revive me.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll find one. This is a problem with many dimensions…IN many dimensions. My brain can’t wrap around it. The scientists here offer a lot in the way of equipment and theory, but I don’t trust them. Maybe it’s racist, but I can’t trust the undead. They’re not out to find cures, like I am. I’m a bit worried that I’ll be found out; I’m not spending all my time researching and testing their weird plague experiments and the more time I spend on my own ministrations, the more conspicuous I think I seem.

I should draft a letter to Corinus. The last I heard he was in Silvermoon, and I’d bet he’d jump at the chance to be my research assistant. I just won’t tell him its bitch work.

Athin left me a note, since I passed out from sheer exhaustion once we finally got off our feet. I’ve enclosed it, just to remember his words. Ugh. I’m not used to all this DRAMA.


pg. 245

[Cabriel]

Dear Cabriel,

You snore when you sleep. I thought you'd like to know.

It was freezing last night, but I'll have you know that I was a proper gentleman. Mostly.

I wish I could be here when you woke up. However, there is much pressing business to attend to. Which, I fear you will be caught up in as well. You're on to something at New Agamand, and I....I don't have the heart to talk about this now.

A wise, if despicable, woman once told me that it was better to die in hope, then to live in despair. And she's right. But I will say this though. It is much better to live in hope, then to die. Despairing or hoping. I fear there will be much despair in the times ahead with our war on the Lich King, and...

Well...the important thing is to keep hope. Believe in your friends, and all of the trite nonsense you may read in various cheap paperbacks. But the theme is strong for a reason, because it is true. Have faith in yourself, your friend and the Light, and you won't have to live or die in despair.

Yours Truly,

~A.
P.S. The sketches are beautiful (from what I saw). I look forward to the full paintings.

NOTE TO SELF: Get him his cloak back. And make sure he realizes I wasn't snoring, that he must have been imagining it.

[Cabriel]

Being sick sucks. Being sick in Northrend sucks.

I can’t breathe through my nose (not that I’d want to with the vile stench that fills the air here), my left ear is ringing, my chest feels hollow and dry and I can’t stop coughing. I hope to the gods that it’s not the plague they’re cooking up here, which would make TOTAL sense if I contracted it, considering I seem to be one of the living originally-living people around here lately.

I doubt it, though. Probably just a chest cold from this weather. If I had their weird plague I’d probably be dead by now. These Forsaken folks…they seem to promote expedience.

[Vilmah]

((Everyone is sick!! Poor Cabbie.))

[Cabriel]

was assured Lady Anitra was no amateur, and that exchange of her family’s ample land assets in return for the unsavory delights she so craved would be of no concern. Indeed, the House of Sunscald possessed tracts of land so vast and rich that Anitra might indulge her every fantasy at the expense of her inheritance and still maintain her position as foremost landowner in the country. What was a barony to Anitra, when it could be used to purchase those sinful and subversive acts which most men would not, could not, offer? What of it that it fell to one who possessed the top half of a healthy woman and the bottom half of a robust man? What mattered is that the back half of her benefactor was in working order, fully able to perform those functions by which she would indulge her curiosity, and that the front half might be able to respond to her calling as well, as she would most likely be calling upon it to do its work in due time.

Anitra finished the oiling of her limbs, and called for one of her servants to assist her in the procuring of numerous silken towels for the night’s pleasures. Also on her list of needed items was a sheet large enough to cover the floor of the atrium upon which the debauchery was to take place, and braziers of scented perfumes and oils to cover the odorous air that was sure to result. It would simply be discourteous of her not to offer her companion the finest aromas to complement their acts, and also Lady Anitra herself could abide by the smell.


I don’t know if Corinus was aboard that zeppelin today. It’s been hours and I’m afraid that the water was too cold for him to survive, if he did, in fact, fall. I guess I’ll wait, and come up with a Plan B.

I'm hungry, and I'm sick of the goat cheese here. Is it too much to ask to eat something other than goat cheese??


pg. 263

[Cabriel]

I'm at Vilmah's storytime! How random, and fun! There's a few Sanctuary people here, which feels really good. Haven't seen a lot of them since the last meeting.




Ugh. Lysimachus. NOTE TO SELF: expose him for the bleached blond phony that he is.

He rode in on an ELEPHANT??! I was wrong -- he can get more obtuse than that stupid white drake-thingy. I should really warn his cook about what she's gotten herself into.



Stupid rain. S-T-U-P-I-D. Stooooopid. Stu-pyd. Stoo-ped. Stu-peed. Diputs niar. Haha. That last one loks looks funny. I can't spell 'looks'. Stooooooopyd Cay-bree-il. Okay, pay attention to the story.

Oops. I totally pissed Athin off. It was supposed to be a JOKE! Ha ha? Funny? Who doesn't think an infernal plummeting from the stars after a really sad story was just told about STARS?! Hello??? Whatever. It was hilarious. Even Lysimahcus thought so, and he's a dick.




I'm totally starving. Must eat something other than goat cheese before I head back to Northrend. NOTE TO SELF: stock up on yummy foods here on the Bluff. There is none in the fjord.


Okay, he's not mad anymore.

Cabriel D'Origaille. Cabriel Lockvictor-D'Origaile (NO). Athin Lockvictor. Athin D'Origaille-Lockvictor.

Bluff Shopping List
Milk (haha)
5 Leaded vials -- the ones with glass stoppers
Yummy food to take back to the fjord -- THEY MAKE GOOD BREAD HERE. Get bread.
Silverleaf
Peacebloom (make sure the blossoms are closed tightly)
Briarthorn



Okay, so Lysimachus just portalled himself out of here in the middle of Saph's story. RUDE, but not shocking. Maybe he'll get stuck halfway through and lose part of his nose. I really hate him.


pg. 266

[Aphraelle]

(( "Mrs. Fiona Charming." :D ))

[Lysimachus]

Cabriel D'Origaille. Cabriel Lockvictor-D'Origaile (NO). Athin Lockvictor. Athin D'Origaille-Lockvictor.


((That's adorable.))

[Athin]

((My poor last name, that I can barely spell. Athin Lockvictor does have an interesting ring to it though...)

[Cabriel]

((If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!))

[Cabriel]

The physical properties of a soul shard are astounding. The shard itself is nothing more than a crystal, a naturally-occurring solid substance in which the molecules are arranged in an orderly repeating pattern extending into all three special dimensions. When the crystal matrix becomes saturated with energy, the huge amount of gaseous space between the solid material formed by the original matrix undergoes a phase change; it literally changes from a gas to a liquid to a solid. The liquid flash-solidifies into a crystal matrix that differs from the surrounding substance, something that resembles ice.

Essentially, the energy crystallizes into the “empty” space inside the crystal. Releasing the energy requires latent heat that is provided by fel energies (the properties of which seem to differ dramatically from ‘normal’ arcane). In a basic way, the immense amount of friction caused by the collision of particles within the energy field create a super-heat which is hot enough to destroy the covalent bonds between atoms in the new crystalline structure, thus freeing the energy in the form of particles and waves (hence the light that is emitted during a spell casting).

This fel-heat, though, melts the original crystal matrix, changing it from a solid into a liquid that cools so rapidly that the atoms cannot return to their lattice sites before losing all mobility. This results in the formation of a non-crystalline substance, both vitreous and amorphous. In lay terms, the crystal turns to glass. A very hard and durable glass, if cloudy and unusable in any real-world application, such an engineering or blacksmithing.

My hypothesis is that integrating the use of a more durable crystal, such as diamond or graphite, will allow for a more controlled release of the stored energy matrices, thus enabling me to manipulate those energies to produce a desired effect – in my case, controlling this demonic transformation. I suspect I will have to consult with an enchanter and probably a jeweler, to find a way to properly direct the energies and, finally, allow me to control these transformations, if not stop them altogether.


pg. 271

[Libelle]

((Cabriel has been reading my textbooks. D: ))

[Cabriel]

Trial One – Amethyst; diameter 14 cm
Trial subject – toad; 2.3 lbs


http://www.metastones.com/finalweb/rough-amethyst-group.jpg

The fat little bastard was tougher than I expected to catch. Toad restrained in wooden cage, not anesthetized.

Performed energy extraction (“soul drain”) in restricted environment: doors sealed from inside, windows barred and shades pulled, room sterilized and cleaned thoroughly before experimentation to prevent contamination from outside unpredictabilities – energies released by the New Agamand alchemists' plague solutions; mechanical debris; leftover bits of prior test subjects abandoned by previous scientists, etc.

Trial subject unconscious 5.7 seconds after initial extraction; no signs of life after 25 seconds. No visible entry or exit points for “soul” energy. Amethyst charged, and giving off significant ambient heat.

Release of stored energies unsuccessful. Amethyst released heat quickly, turning a deep burnt yellow color. Received minor burns to inside palm of right hand and second and third digits. Energy dissipated too quickly to harness any major control – enough to power certain spells, certainly, but not useful for practical application because of dangerous release of heat.

Possible explanation: amethyst’s purple color is a result of ferric iron impurities in the quartz structure. Interplay of iron and aluminum retain great amounts of heat (generated by influx of energy). Heat destroys covalent bonds necessary to crystallize the stored energy, resulting in sudden, unpredictable release.

TRIAL UNSUCCESSFUL.


pg. 272

[Cabriel]

If her body quivered, it was merely the sensitive, yet masculine method by which the surgeon applied his cold implements. Each clamp was as long as a finger, silver, and fitted with evil little pads featuring raised bumps, she guessed in order to better hold back the flayed-open skin of the surgeon’s more regular patients. In this instance, the instance most important to Lady Anitra in any and all cases, for she was a wanton and lascivious connoisseur of all things sinfully of the flesh, the surgeon’s clamps descended onto her body having freshly emerged from a metallic dish of salted iced water. He gingerly pressed together the ends of the clamp, opening its wide maw to the feast of alabaster skin before it. He would place this clamp on the left side, for it was all the better that the left should match the right, and Lady Anitra’s bodily hemispheres were notoriously jealous bedfellows. What happened to one round globe must happen to the other.

“Tis cold,” she chattered through pursed lips. “This procedure scatters gooseflesh across the whole of my body, doctor. Might you have anything to calm these chilblains?”

She allowed to escape a tiny yip as the clamp settled into its place, and though she strained against the delicious pain of it, her arms and legs were rendered quite useless against the sterile cuffs of the operating table which held the patient in place. The surgeon’s masked stretched, a knowing smile beneath the white fabric at the sight of Anitra so helpless.

“We must await the opportune moment in which we might chase away your chills, Lady,” he said. “My instrument is not quite at the ready.”

Lady Anitra’s exposed body shook in shivers of anticipation.

“Perhaps a gag of linen to protect your teeth against chattering dangerously against themselves…”

It happened again tonight, and this time I’m sure someone saw it. Each time these changes take place, I seem to lose more and more control. That sucks. At least before I could stop myself before I did something outrageous. Now…not so much. One of the scientists was awake in the middle of the night, and I ‘came to’ outside the sundries building. Apparently, someone had smashed down the door. Apparently, that someone was me. Demon me. I have no clue how I got from the inn to that building, but wearing more loose-fitting clothing seemed to help this time. None of it shredded when my body grew. I look like shit, but I’m saving a lot on robes.

Another incentive to figuring this problem out: I can’t take walking around in baggy clothes much longer. Maybe it won’t matter, if that scientist decides to make trouble for me.


pg. 273

[Cabriel]

AMBER LEDGE <--- mages? Library, supplies. How do I get there? Where IS it even located?

Evidently, there is a group of arcanists somewhere on the western tundra that have in their possession a fully-equipped laboratory, as well as a library. New Agamand lacks the latter, unless you’re counting moldy books on plague history and pestilence. Not exactly what I require. I’ve sent word to this place – Amber Ledge – with a courier I hired at Vengeance Landing. Greedy little bastard insisted upon 10 gold for delivering my message.

A SIMPLE MESSAGE.

A request, really, for room and board and access to their equipment and resources. I’ve offered to contribute to their library whatever I discover in my work to control these transformations. I’m tired of playing at charades here in New Agamand. I’m tired of the smell. I miss civilization. I’m tired of pretending like I’m here to help these creepy alchemists with their work, when in reality, I find their ‘work’ to be disgusting and ridiculous. I haven’t bathed in days. I’ve had zero luck in procuring either graphite OR diamonds substantial enough to be useful in my trials, since New Agamand is just a weird little undead outpost with no real supply chain.

In short, I’m out of here. Even if I can’t go to Amber Ledge, I’m unable to continue my work in this stinking pit.

Hopefully, the mages actually exist, and they're not undead. I'm siiiiiiiiiiick of undead.


pg. 276

[Cabriel]

Mr. Lockvictor,

I received your missive this morning requesting the use of our facilities. Though your use of the Common trade language seems lacking, and is obviously gleaned to you from the goblin races, I was able to effectively translate your request.

Currently I am the curator of the spelltower at Amber Ledge following the untimely and horrific dismemberment of its previous caretaker by one of his more controversial projects. Rest assured, however, that this great loss to the Kirin Tor arcane community does not arrive without significant benefits to the compilation of knowledge housed at our humble tower: his remains are even now being utilized in an ambitious series of experiments testing the limitations of arcane energy in the locomotion of half-human, half-clockwork constructs. With time, we of the Kirin Tor at Amber Ledge are certain it will be proven that his earthly sacrifice was not one made in vain.

That said: I invite you to Amber Ledge to continue with your trials. Your work with crystal matrices and their attending physical, chemical, and metaphysical properties seems to be an exciting and worthwhile venture, worthy of whatever aid we at the spelltower might provide. Your generous offer of contributing your research to our growing body of knowledge is acceptable as recompense for your room and board; however, whatever special components you might require, which our stores cannot provide, are your sole responsibility. We can offer the use of our courier as you see fit, as his debt to the Kirin Tor is long from being considered paid.

A few points of rule:

1. As the Kirin Tor retains a neutral stance in the tensions between the “Alliance” and “Horde” factions, you will be expected to reflect the same. Anyone wishing admittance to Amber Ledge’s spelltower must be able to leave certain political differences at the door.
2. The stabling of your mount shall be included in your room and board
3. Any damage withstood to our facilities during the course of your stay, and as a result of your trials, shall be your responsibility to repair or find suitable accommodations for repair.
4. No demons on the premises.

Enclosed with this reply is a detailed set of directions by which you may reach Amber Ledge from your current position in New Agamand.

I look forward to your arrival, and to the future contribution of your research to the Kirin Tor.

Sincerely,

Reisl von Luminas
Magus Emeritus

Good enough for me. I leave tonight.


pg. 277

[The_Golden_Wolf]

(write an erotic novel plz, <3)

[Cabriel]

I received the notice to attend a gathering of Sanctuary. Evidently, we're aligning with some other group. I don't have the details.

I feel so disconnected from them, but cannot possibly risk showing up and changing into that hideous...thing...in front of them. I can't do it. I can't.

I can't.

I'll continue here in Amber Ledge, and hopefully find a courier to send to Vilmah in my place. This is more incentive to get better, or cut my ties altogether.

[Cabriel]

Well, that was interesting.

Very happy she didn't die. I surely didn't pay her enough for that to happen. She got back here to Amber Ledge and still looked panicked. Poor girl. There must be some scary members of the Order of Eversong. Gods know it wasn't Vilmah that shook her up so much.

[Cabriel]

Amber Ledge – Day 4

Not quite as I expected. Not bad, but not the haven of possibility my hopeful mind made it out to be. The lodgings are much nicer than the squatting at New Agamand; for one thing, no one sleeps in a coffin here. That always seemed so…predictable. Evidently when you die and live through it to tell the tale, some of your capacity for original thinking goes with it. Anyway.

I have a little nook to myself. Magus Reisl had the place made up for me. There’s a bed, a chest for my clothes and supplies, and a mini-lab. I haven’t used the laboratory much – I need a bit more space. It’s still nice to have. The spelltower itself is strange. It’s basically a huge limestone tube at the edge of a cliff overlooking some weird, glowing glacier. Inside the tube is this knotwork of wooden walkways. There aren’t floors in the normal sense. Just walkways and platforms going up and down, left and right. Bookshelves everywhere, which is really great. It seems stable enough, so I’m not worried that they wood is going to fall out from under me.

I have yet to procure the things I need for a second soul shard trial. A mage here insists he has a hoard of gemstones in his possession, and has offered to trade my time for his stones. He wants me to fly with him into the glacier to collect something. I’m not sure what it is. I suppose I don’t have a choice if I want to get started. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

It’s nighttime here, I can tell from the sky. But the glacier glows all the time – this odd blue light prevents it from getting dark. I can’t sleep. Apparently, neither can the humans who stay here. All hours of the night, it’s the sounds of tinkering and boiling and churning and bubbling. Kind of comforting. I’m less lonely.


pg. 279

[Cabriel]

“Say it! Thou wilt not be sated until the words leave thy mouth!”

I CANNOT BELIEVE HE CAME HERE.

“I am a sniveling little pig boy!”

Athin has no right to come up here under the pretense of some romantic visit, only to pry into my personal affairs and then try to convert me to his “Light” business. I’m so angry right now I could kill him. In fact, I think I did try to kill him. Too bad. I warned him.

“That’s correct! And what, little pig boy, happens to sniveling little pig boys when they’re dirty?”

My secret is now out. YES WORLD! I’m a freak who has gotten in too far over his head, and now have this little problem. It’s no big deal, really. I just lose control over my physical and mental bodies and CHANGE INTO A HUGE PURPLE DEMON WITH WINGS. I just end up destroying things like houses and walls. I only black out and then return to consciousness somewhere other than where I started, out of breath, bloodied, exhausted, sweltering hot. No big deal! I shouldn’t be so secretive! What’s the big deal!? Let's have tea and talk about it!

“They get punished!”

I’m cut off from supplies at Amber Ledge. Where am I supposed to find black diamonds here? Chunks of graphite? Rubies? I know for a fact that the Kirin Tor would see me dead if they knew I was a fel-mage, so I’m sure that my disappearing and self-isolation makes me seem like a total Sin’Dorei weirdo to them. I can’t really ask them for real help, because I can’t explain why I need it!

“So it’s punishment you’re after, is it, sniveling little pig boy?”

What the FEL am I doing in this helling place?

“Yes, Lady Anitra,”

No, I did NOT just write “helling”. Scratching it out. Too weird.

“No! You shall call me Madame, or quickly feel the sting of my nine-tails across thy back for your insolence!”

I know Athin is hanging around the Ledge waiting for me. He’s too patient. He won’t give it up! Does he honestly think I haven’t thought of the Light as a resource? But he doesn’t understand that it’s not an OPTION for me. Things inside me have gotten too dark, too involved in this magic, for me to just turn tail and go running back to Mother Light like a bad kid who’s learned his lesson. No. I chose this path, whether or not I realized what it meant, and I’ll stay with it. I can control this.

“Yes, Madame!”

I can control this.

“Yes what, sniveling little pig boy?”

“Yes, I want to be punished!”

“Punished for what, pig boy?”

“For being dirty!”

“’For being dirty’ what, sniveling pig boy?”

“For being dirty, Madame!”

“That’s right! You’re a dirty, sniveling pig boy!”


pg. 280

[Cabriel]

Idiot, idiot idiot, stupid, crazy, moron, dumb, ass, DESPERATE, deluded, ignorant, troll-brained, loser loser loser loser loser loser LOSER.

Maybe it's not too late to catch that courier. He can't have gotten far from the Ledge yet...unless he took a dragonflight. And he probably did. SHIT.

I've done it this time. Nothing to do but sit back and wait. WHAT THE FEL DO I EXPECT!? This is ludicrous, to think that the Mage is going to help me! EVEN IF HE DOES, I'll be indebted to the psychopath for the rest of my life.

Or his. I could just kill him.



HUH?

See, THIS ^^ is the kind of thing that scares me to be thinking lately. This whole demonic thing is making me do/see/say/think crazy, crazy things. I'm going crazy. To think that Lysimachus dej Dynastus is going to willingly extend a hand to help me with ANYTHING is...insane.

Insane.

[Cabriel]

I cannot believe it. This is either very good news, or a sure sign that something very, very unpleasant is about to happen to me. Either way, I begin packing for Dalaran tomorrow. The details of how I complete this 'project' and somehow keep the Mage in the dark as to the reason behind it all are unclear, at the moment. I'll have to think on my feet.

Sweet gods, deliver me from the madness that is Lysimachus dej Dynastus.



To Be Delivered to Original Sender

Lockvictor.

Your request for aid has been received and approved.

I am aware you are not welcome within Silvermoon City proper. Therefore, I will be permitting, at this time, use of the Dalaran Mirror (a two-way transport facility) located on the first level beneath Dynastus Hall. I am entrusting you with the following information: the sub-levels of the Hall are currently unsanctioned by the City Advisory Board, and must therefore be kept something of a secret. You will not have access to any of these unnecessarily, but I felt sharing this with you to be of significance.

It isn't as though anyone utilizes Silvermoon Inferior anymore, anyway. Probably all collapsed, by now.

But I digress.

Your five stipulations have been addressed singularly below.

1. Twenty Dark-Iron grade Black Diamonds have been included companion to this letter; more will be forthcoming if needed.
2. Three Scarlet Rubies and seven Star Rubies have been included companion to this letter; more will be forthcoming if needed.
3. Kalinda, one of our employees, will be available to fulfill this role. We maintain our own Jeweler's Haven within Dynastus Hall.
4. For the purpose of metallurgy, I would normally direct you to outside sources within Silvermoon. However, as I have considered your "situation" (as noted above), I have hired, at great personal cost, a talented Dwarven metallurgist to assist you as needed.
5. I shall speak to my sister concerning this, as she keeps her quarters in our extensive Bibliotheca. However, as she remains distracted in Northrend, I expect this detail shall be of little issue.

I will expect the entirety of your research to be compiled wholly and separately for addition to my collection, as you have allowed. However, as one further stipulation, I shall require that you allow me to personally observe your experimentations as they are being conducted, unto the total fulfillment of my curiosity. You shall be otherwise left in complete peace.

Sincerely,

Lysimachus dej Dynastus

P.S.- Your poor choice in sexual matters will be left in Northrend.

[Cabriel]

"If you have no cucumbers or zucchini, I suppose a good, ripe pineapple will have to do," Lady Anitra told the grocer, licking her supple lips in anticipation.

This arrangement is already pissing me off, and I haven't even stepped foot in Silvermoon.

If anyone happens to find this journal after I've gone demon and pulled this nutjob's bottom lip over his head, please know I was not in my right mind, and that the world is probably much better off without his scheming.


pg. 287

[Lysimachus]

"If you have no cucumbers or zucchini, I suppose a good, ripe pineapple will have to do," Lady Anitra told the grocer, licking her supple lips in anticipation.

((LMAO))

[teutelquessir]

"If you have no cucumbers or zucchini, I suppose a good, ripe pineapple will have to do," Lady Anitra told the grocer, licking her supple lips in anticipation.

(( O_O Brain bleach! ))

[Libelle]

((Oh DEEDRA.))

[Cabriel]

Well, I'm here.

Yep.

As I suspected, everyone here is condescending, rude, suspicious, and they all have the little crazy glint in their eyes. Maybe it's a family trait -- the dej Dynastus crazy-eye. Probably descended from that very first Sin'Dorei female who chose to breed with her own brother in order to keep the family bloodline pure. From there it trickled down into the veins of every single one of them, rearranging the puzzle pieces of their brains so they all have an insatiable desire to fulfill their own desires and treat the entire world like it's their oyster -- a spoiled, stinking, disappointing oyster.

That makes me hungry. I wonder what they eat here? Probably organ meat -- something about this family makes me believe they would love the innards of a baby cow or sheep with sprigs of mint.

Someone's knocking. More later.

[Cabriel]

Black diamond research

Black diamonds obtain their color, which is not truly black, from the inclusion of unoxidized iron deposits (commonly known as “dark iron”). This impurity results in structural deformations and weakness of the crystal matrix. This weakness is what I hope to exploit, as the irregularities in the lattice should create large “empty” spaces within the stone’s structure in which the foreign stored energy can crystallize. Essentially, this type of stone provides the hardness required for extended (possibly permanent) use in the control of these demonic transformations, while actually containing more usable space in which to concentrate the energies necessary to create a soul shard.


http://ithacajewelbox.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/champ9.jpg

In addition, black diamond is suitably durable at extremely high temperatures. The iron impurities within wick away heat from the surrounding crystal lattice, making the stone easier to handle at increased heat. No more singed fingers for me, hopefully.

Black diamond is formed in volcanic environments deep within the earth. Deep-origin (150 km or more) volcanic magma brings the necessary components to create the stone: magnesium, olivine, pyroxene, and amphibole material contained in a liquefied form of igneous rock. Black diamond also contain trace amounts of titanium, chromium, and iron (each of these three metals are useful in arcane applications, most commonly seen in the construction of wands). Immense pressure and heat from the volcanic environment result in the formation of the stone. Dark Iron dwarves are best-known for the mining of these diamonds, and they are much sought-after in their culture.

Summary: the unique physical structure as well as the various metallic and mineral components of black diamond make the stone useful in arcane and fel applications.

[Cabriel]

Star ruby research

The star ruby is comprised mostly of chromium (again – chromium is extremely useful in terms of it’s conductivity and durability in magical applications). My hypothesis is that the chromium present in the stone will allow a generous amount of “slip” when accessing the stored energy placed there through the normal means (“soul-drain”) – the energy will come and go more easily in a conductive environment, allowing for fast use in emergency situations.

Additionally, star rubies contain trace amounts of aluminum. Aluminum is responsible for the refraction of the light spectrum that results in the brilliant red color of the stone. This red emission adds to the red colour perceived by the subtraction of green and violet light from white light, and adds luster to the gem's appearance. When the arrangement of light is refracted over and over again by the metallic components of the stone, the emission grows in intensity. This is something I hope to exploit.

The use of arcane and fel energies results in great energy loss in the form of light and heat – the “fireworks” of a spell casting. Hopefully, the refractive properties of aluminum in the ruby will prevent a percentage of energy loss during the release of stored energy, meaning less energy will be needed in total when I attempt to control my transformations. Save myself a bit of effort and a lot of time in the long run.

Star rubies are named as such because of the “needles” or “stars” present in the gem. These are imperfections, called “rutiles”. They add to the overall brightness of the gem, but I suspect will have little effect on the overall results of my experiments, because adding significant heat sources to a ruby ultimately destroy these rutiles and even out the color and internal structure of the stone. If anything, I expect to have to heat the stones previous to their actual energy storage to reduce the chance that the rutiles will affect light transfer or conductivity.


http://www.stargemstones.com/info/star-ruby/images/rosser-reeves-star-ruby.jpg

The star ruby is the birthstone associated with individuals born near the Midsummer Fire Festival, like myself.

It’s important that I check the authenticity of these rubies the Marquess has gifted me, because it’s notoriously easy for jewelcrafters to simply submerge white sapphires in a weak solution of boric acid and dissolved aluminum to change the color of the stone to red. This is the most common method of fleecing the rich of Silvermoon, and though I find that hilarious, I need real rubies to work with.

[Cabriel]

“Dance! Dance, dance until you die!” Anitra again let loose her stinging flog at the captive kitchen servant. His hips swung in time with his muscular arms as they writhed and snaked in and out of complex wreaths. His sinuous ballet stole Lady Anitra’s breath.

“Faster, slave!” She snapped the whip again, furiously working at her womanhood as though she were attempting to contain some wild, jealous beast. It reared and bucked, foaming at its mouth as it snapped back at its bit. Anitra slapped the boy once more, then again, feverish for her greedy satisfaction.

Tears rolled down the servants face, and Lady Anitra smacked them into the air with the back of her alabaster hand.

“Your tears are naught but water, slave! Dance!” He did as commanded, though the blush of humiliation crept ‘round his supple cheeks. The flush of color only swelled Anitra more, ‘til she was near to bursting with the fervor of her abuse of the virile kitchen servant.

“Dance!” she cried, and shivers wracked her sweating body.

“Dance!” The word exploded from her lips as electric pleasure, like lightning on high, sizzled through her veins.

“DANCE!” Anitra sputtered and fell, landing atop an open sack of flour. The juices of her indulgence seeped into the stuff until she found herself, sated with excess, mired in her own dough of covetousness.


This place is really lonely. I left Nesingwary’s camp. All around me there’s nothing but jungle and lots of strange noises. I’m trying to not get depressed out here, but it’s failing. Heard from Vilmah last night, but nothing of substance. She sounded sad and worried, but had no news. I guess I should just stay put. I have enough to eat from helping the game hunters here when I first arrived, so at least I don’t have to worry about that.

Yep.

Being in hiding sucks.


pg. 292

[Cabriel]

How much longer is this whole "saving Sanctuary" thing gonna take???!???!?!

I'm running out of things to do to keep my hands and mind busy.

I've taught myself how to perfectly sear elk meat on a heated rock
I've located good rocks to heat to perfectly sear elk meat
I've written a letter to my younger self (then I burned it cause it was too creepy)
I've re-read all my favorite stories in this book
I've tried smoking blindweed (awesome)
I've coated elk meat in a spice rub that contained blindweed to see if it was the same (it wasn't)
I've taken in the seams of my frock coat
I've replaced buttons on all the things I have with me that are missing buttons
I've swam a lot.
I've pleasured myself in lots of exotic and strange locations (my favorites being in a tree, under a waterfall, and over a cliff)
I've played paddy-cake with Abanip and Bronna more times than I want to admit
I've made Flaad pose for nude sketches

I'm bored. BORED. WHAT is going on out there? No word whatsoever from Vilmah or anyone, so for all I know I'm out here whacking off in the wilderness while I wait for someone to hunt me down and kill me. Seriously. They could be dead. It's been weeks.

I'm not going to last much longer through this. Eventually I'm going to move back toward civilization, and whoever is fucking with the guild can be damned.