Tiraline's Mnemonic Supplement

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((This may come as a shock to you, but nothing that happened last night made Tir think any better of Jan. You weren't there Sunday to hear Jan making cheap excuses for the way Trigin was mistreating Cytiana.))

((Ahem...I read this you know, and Jan accually likes Cytiana >.> ))

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((Ahem...I read this you know, and Jan accually likes Cytiana >.> ))

((Then *ahem* maybe she shouldn't have butted in and tried to blow off all the genuine issues with a lame "he's just that way" and an "it's none of your business, Tir."

((We can discuss this further in a PM if you like. But if you guys don't mind, could we not argue publicly in my journal thread?))

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((The entry begins in the same large, block capitals as before.))


((The precise, neat, pointy but feminine handwriting resumes.))

Someone who cares about you.

Someone who wants you to be happy, really genuinely happy.

Someone who extends a hand down to you to pick yourself up out of the pit into which you've fallen--even if you don't want out to begin with.

Someone who's not content to watch you be less than you ought to be.

A friend doesn't encourage you to embrace what you know is wrong. A friend doesn't laugh at your misfortune and misery, not even when you do. A friend is there for you, even when it's not convenient.

Friends share.

Friends reach out.

Friends call you on it when you're wrong.

Friends defend you to the death when you're right.

Friends encourage you to improve yourself, because goodness yields happiness beyond the mere satisfactions of the moment.

Are these radical concepts? Is it so weird to think of love as extending to friends as well as family? We find that the more we love, the more we are able to love. What if we let ourselves love more and more people? Will we eventually be able to love EVERYONE? And one thing we notice is that when we extend love to others, the ones who are not totally hung up on themselves begin to return that love...

I wonder what would happen if we extend this love to our enemies as well?

We cannot change the whole world. Self will never be defeated. But perhaps we can make a little portion of it better?

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((The handwriting is slightly unsteady.))

I was worried about him, and it didn't matter to him. He may as well have slapped me in the face.

Was I too angry? Maybe, but it was because he could have died from his own negligence. Should I have laughed? Hardly.

So maybe I shouldn't have cared whether he lived or died. Is that what he wants? To push me away?


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I suspect he wanted me to take an interest in what he was doing, but after that "sweet" letter she sent me about butting out, I really don't want to impose. After all, he's an adult. He can take care of himself. And even if he can't, she can take care of him. They don't need my input.

Isn't that what they want?

In any event, there are other, more worthy people to whom we should pay attention. Geofforan, for instance. He's getting to look skinny; his armor is fitting him wrong. He probably eats too many muffins and not enough meat and vegetables.

It might be time to find him a wife. Taffey tells me he mentioned it a few times the night she waited tables for Aleria. If only I knew a girl sweet enough to deserve him, and patient enough to endure him!

Drikner is really shaping up. For a young man who started with nothing, he has admirably made something of himself. And as our new Quartermaster, we're sure he'll do excellently at seeing our people equipped.

We've had a few new additions: Esculas and Stubbles--a sweet couple if ever I've met one--Aftner Raventy, and Bodane. Aftner is one I might be concerned about, but he says he wants to put aside his past and look to the future. Light help us help him with that. He apparently is having trouble with his wife, but perhaps we can help him sort it out without being too interfering.

Ezekias Auromere is nothing less than a gentleman. He saw that I was feeling melancholy, and brought me a special gift: a rare book that he found in Ratchet, one that means something to him because his dear grandmother wrote it. I never realized that Countess Allisara Bancroft was his grandmother. I never got to meet her, but she had a reputation for being the most polished AND most kind-hearted woman you could want to encounter.

The book is called "The Lost Art of Femininity", and it's as much about etiquette as womanhood--and she wrote right in the beginning that courtesy is important regardless of station, so she wrote this for any lady who might chance to pick it up. I really appreciate the gift; I love books like this. Ezekias is a very thoughtful man, and Sera is blessed beyond measure to be his wife.

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Almost finished with the wedding gown for Krystiana. She will look smashing, even if this one is a rush job. Just that last bit of the hem. (That's the last time I let Taffey roll it up for me; sweet as she is, I swear the girl must be nearsighted.)

The book Ezekias gave me is fascinating. I love this one passage so much, I'll copy it out:

"It is my opinion that one can control a horse better riding side-saddle than astride."*

In other words, a lady can have more influence over a man if she conducts herself as a lady, rather than as a man herself. I've found that to be true, but it's nice to see it's not just my experience.

Influence, though...not for its own sake. The argument of influence is for the power-mad. I'd rather just be loved--and I am. So many loving people around me! And I love to cook for them, and talk with them, and...

...And suddenly, I miss my special ones. Why don't they understand that I only admonish them because I love them, and I want them to love each other better? They may be adults, but that doesn't make them infallible, or incapable of doing each other a mischief if they don't reflect on their choices. I just want them to start being wiser, even in their heady days of romantic foolishness.

Perhaps I'm so used to being on this side of the wedding, that I've forgotten how late Issachar and I used to linger in shared thoughts. Late-night conversations like that made us want to hasten the ceremony. Would we have married so soon if we hadn't known one another so well?

((The handwriting seems to become more masculine for the next line.))

It all depends on whether you'd have been willing to stay out of my bedroom for that much longer.

((The handwriting resumes femininity.))

If you weren't privy to my appetites, Issachar, I'd be shocked at what you just suggested. Shocked. And for Light's sake, stop DOING that when I'm writing in my journal!

((There is a small drawing of a face with a tongue sticking out.))

In any event.

There is value in the skirt, in the soft hand, and in the apron. I need not be a man, to be treated with respect by men. Why should I hop down from this comfortable pedestal?

The unfortunate side effect of reading Countess Bancroft's book is that I now want to find a fan. There's something lovely about a fan.

((* This statement was actually written by Judith Martin, known to the world as "Miss Manners". In its context, she is, in fact, stating that a woman need not demonstrate equality by adopting all the habits and mannerisms of a man. I am unsure if she actually means that she is more successful at riding side-saddle than astride.))

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All I ask is to find a pretty fan. Is that too much to ask?

The book is really quite fascinating. I think modern society, in its attitude of "sacrifice everything and anything for an immediate return," has undervalued Woman. I will endeavor to embrace womanhood fully.

We're approaching five months, and the baby is moving a lot. Last night, Issachar got to do the daddy thing and put his hand over where the baby was kicking. Much to our astonishment, the baby kicked where he tapped! We laughed so hard. Our baby is feisty.

Issachar thinks we have a red-haired girl. We'll be happy no matter what, though.

Aveia is getting nervous over the wedding. Poor girl.

Must dash.

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So the matter between me and our son has been resolved quite happily; I think he understands now what was upsetting me. That he didn't is probably my fault, for not taking time and having patience to express it thoroughly. Time will tell if he'll exercise more reflection.

I realize that they're both young and in good shape, and recognize the importance of spending time together, talking and learning about each other. I just worry a lot, perhaps too much. He's just so reckless sometimes! Such a maverick...Endearing but infuriating at the same time.

I still want to talk to Cytiana, apologize to her, but haven't had the opportunity. I would write a letter to express it, but some things are best delivered in person.

I love them both so much.

We may decide to have a picnic during the Midsummer Fire Festival. Issachar dislikes the festival; too many senseless rituals and downright amorality. A nice picnic with fishing and fireworks--that could be just the thing!

Amorality...the rise of it concerns me. So many people out there act and speak thinking only of their own gratification, and putting the needs and benefit of others very last on their list of concerns. This is not the basis of a strong society; it is the seeds of destruction thereof. Those who go about demanding that their own personal feelings be satisfied at the expense of anything and anyone else basically pronounce their own selfish hearts to be gods to be appeased.

Conflicting demands result in war, riot, and crime when every man is his own god. People get hurt, badly. But I suppose to some, that matters not. So what do you do?

You can only, ultimately, do two things: either encourage them to subordinate their personal desires to the greater good--by incentive or threat, also known as Criminal Law--or put them out of society--by exile, imprisonment, or execution.

But as the cry grows for anarchy, for a "self-determination" that does not actually have any promise of self-restraint, how long does Law stand?

Eventually, society will tear itself apart, and the ones to tear most eagerly will, with their same lying mouths, pronounce the mantra of "As long as nobody gets hurt, I can do anything I want!" They will blind themselves to their own self-proclaimed evil acts.

But we will remain firm, and protect the helpless against the predations of the Lawless Strong. It is who we are. What is good and right and true, IS good and right and true, or the words have no meaning, and we are none of us more than animals.

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There is so much to write about that I'm not sure I'll get it all down.

We finished what work we could in Shadowmoon Valley, and our business now takes us to Northrend. Our start: Valgarde, in the Howling Fjord. And there we were met by a one-man self-appointed welcoming committee, Rohan Orcslayer.

He tried to convince us to go back. When that failed--we were following the leading of Issachar's, after all, and that is to us a directive more powerful than words--he rather ungraciously offered to assist us. Issachar had had just about enough of the man's loutish conduct, and told him that we would not travel with him if he were going to insult us.

The advantage of Issachar seldom speaking is that people listen when he does speak.

I think I know wherein Rohan's problem lies. He lacks faith. We went down into the catacombs full of ghouls, and Rohan seemed almost afraid to go. But Issachar went headlong, and the creatures simply melted before us. Literally. And the protection of the Light extended to me! Rohan, however...he simply stayed close to either of us, and escaped being lunch.

Not to discount his helpfulness. He did help, before and later. Issachar and I had to use some nasty incense stuff--always gives me a headache and smells atrocious--and apparently the Lich King was waiting for us in the Spirit World. But all the fiend did was bluster, make threats, and then knock us out. Why are people so frightened of him? He's got a lot of power, but he is, in the end, only a death knight. Only a death knight. He can kill, and he can deceive, but he cannot prevail against the Light.

When the Lich King gave the two of us a sufficient shock to knock us out of the Spirit Realm, Rohan revived us both. For that, we're grateful. But he spoke so often of the Lich King's power, and the horrors we apparently haven't yet seen...I must wonder if his courage is faltering. Perhaps, with time spent working with Issachar, he'll come to gain in faith, as I have. After the demonstration of power in those crypts, who could not?

All in all, though, I'm not afraid of the traitor prince. Not anymore. He's just a loud bully, no worse than any other. He has power and uses it like a cudgel.

With our new work in Northrend, it might be wise to move our home to Dalaran now. Much as I dislike the lack of visible children, living closer to our field of battle would save time and allow us a faster retreat to the important things. We'd have to make our housekeeping more modest--probably living in an apartment until we find a house--but that should be temporary. It might be crowded for a few more weeks, as well, but Aveia will soon be taking up residence with Derakor. Poor dear is going crazy with anticipation of the wedding...

We would need Ferya for cleaning and operations-management, and Wendel to run errands for her. Banakk and Brynhilda have pretty much had to dedicate themselves to the order's business.

...It is difficult to allow other people to do for me. I know I am strong; I can handle most things (and asking Issachar is like asking myself, anyway); I can hold my own in a battle. The tricky part is reminding myself that others like to feel strong, too--that they ARE strong, too. If I offer help and never accept it, I insult them, condescend. Our order's philosophy is that by serving one another, by helping one another, we are all made stronger. I need to learn to trust more, and give more--let other people be strong for me, too, just as I'm strong for them.

Is it pride that causes me to reject help? Or is it fear? And fear of what? That others will think me weak and incompetent? Or that others will screw it up? Sometimes you have to face your fears, and beat down that arrogant pride. That's the power of being a lady; she has the most leeway to be humble and brave.

Things to do:

- Puzzle out what we need to take, versus what we can store until we find a nice house.

- More baby clothes! Melerra is sprouting up right now.

- Go over the order's accounts with Banakk; I trust the man, but I want to know what the market looks like for the things he's trying to dispose of.

- Start looking into this thing called "chemistry"; it apparently is something like alchemy, but without the magicky stuff.

- Prioritize my reading list; it's about time I waded in with a will.

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((Okay okay, you win. D: None of that now. Before I flee though..

1. a form of chemistry and speculative philosophy practiced in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance and concerned principally with discovering methods for transmuting baser metals into gold and with finding a universal solvent and an elixir of life.

[On Alchemy]

Now. Before the lawbooks come out, and I get pwnt^a lot,

/cookie, /flee !))

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So many things have happened since my last entry. It's amazing how easily one can let the world keep her thoughts occupied...

The most prominent happy thought for me is that he proposed to her at our picnic Saturday! And she accepted! We're so VERY much looking forward to the wedding. I wonder what they've already planned.

But that's up to them. No meddling, Tir, no meddling. Offer to help, but no advice unless they ask. If they let us help, they're letting us help, not turning things over to me. I'm mother of the groom, not of the bride. I think I remember her saying, in fact, that her mother is still alive and living in Astranaar. I should write to her or pay her a call.

Besides, we're the family of the bride for Derakor and Aveia's wedding. It's going to be fantastic. She's grown so much since she met Derakor, and so has he. His brashness has made her braver; her reserve has made him more contained. She has been talking to us about following the path of Holiness, the same as he does; as she started her journeys as a priestess, it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest should she take up that path herself.

I wonder how well two Holiness paladins will fare against the world. Better than one; two are always stronger than one. That's the principle of marriage! Two people come together and make something even BIGGER than two people. A unit greater than the sum of its parts. A unity. It's something to seek out, treasure if you can have it, celebrate even if you can't have it yourself.

Ezekias said something at his wedding--after which he and his bride blushed profusely: "If the Light had intended for people to be alone, women wouldn't have been invented." And that's true, isn't it? Of course he didn't mean that women have only one, androcentric purpose--which so many women stupidly seem to promote, by making one-hour-rental toys of themselves for any man coming along--but that if people were meant to function alone, we wouldn't have such rich, profound diversity within our own species as male and female. He's a gentleman through and through.

We'd all be men. How boring. I like men--the idea, and especially Issachar's expression of that idea, oh yes--but I'm happy to be a woman. I'm secure in who I am, and I can flap my little fan, sway my hips, speak in a soft velvet voice, and wear my dresses with complete confidence. This is the image of a woman who is satisfied to be one. My womanhood is part of my identity even outside the bedroom! Celebrating and embracing diversity!

I'm getting random. FOCUS. Get some coffee.

I wonder why I can't abide any coffee but what I brew? Perhaps it's a function of temperature; most people keep it hotter than I do, I think. This is something worth investigating--when we have more time.

The Midsummer nonsense is still ongoing. We're duly unimpressed, as usual. It seems so ridiculous, all this fuss over bonfires. They don't even DO anything! They just burn. I can't even get a straight story from the "Loremasters" about what they symbolize. I doubt there's anything substantive; it's probably just another cheap excuse to get drunk and act like hooligans. As if people need an annual excuse for that...

So instead, we're dedicating ourselves to work in the Howling Fjord. And it breaks our heart...The Horde is trying to do the Scourge's work for them, it seems. We saw a vrykul village that had been inflicted with some horrid plague, and at the hands of the Forsaken! This is a race in good standing with the Horde! Are they so evil? The vrykul are themselves wicked, but nobody deserves to die like this!

We must hold firmly in our mind that Leonid Barthalomew is a good man. We must remind ourself that Sanctuary wishes peace. We must think of Melerra when we question...

People are people. They seek their own way at the expense of others. All we can do is hold the line.

((If you're curious about what prompts some of the statements above, please read here. Sometimes Tir's thinking runs alongside mine.))

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Why do I get to write so seldom these days?

We went back to Nagrand to help Esculas with a task, but as we were there, we heard the alarms go up. Halaa was threatened by the Horde! When we arrived, we knew we were outnumbered, and up against more seasoned foes: four, but two of them--a rogue and a death knight--their armor was of the strongest kind, yet battered with a career of combat. The guards had been slain, so we were alone.

But we stood against them, and prevailed!

There were three others: Miss Cheryl Peril, a valiant paladin, our own Esculas, and a paladin whose name we didn't catch, but he was not there the whole time we held the town.

The Horde got reinforcements first: a mage, a shadow priest, and a Blood Knight. They were as seasoned as the other two, but we still held them off! Issachar and I have not reached the height of our strength, but still we won!

We held Halaa until more guards arrived from Telaar. It was glorious! The Light was truly with us in our fight.

((I'm sorry; I just gotta brag about what we did. Two 79's and a couple of mid-60's (with an occasional 80) against five 80's? It was completely crazy, but we held Halaa until the guards respawned. Issa was AWESOME.))

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I admit to having been upset when Trigin resigned from our order so suddenly. I didn't know why, and our closeness made the seeming wound all the more painful. But the letter we received right afterwards, a questionnaire about his leadership skills, made it all clear.

He should know better than to try to keep secrets from us. A unit of his own to command? Amazing! He's growing up, indeed. His conversations with Issachar about the burdens of command are interesting; he's beginning to understand, I think.

Which is all just as well, because he will soon be the head of a family as well. The wedding is set--a good day, not too soon but not too distant, even for someone as impatient as his "mother"--and they're asking me to help with the arrangements. Unfortunately, as the bride is not human, this will necessitate changes to the ceremony, a discarding of some traditions and the invention of new ones. I threw them a few questions to consider; they'll come back to me when they've thought it through. This is THEIR day.

Poor Cytiana; she's spending so much time serving the Cenarion Expedition. She's been accorded a new title, which means she'll be away a lot over the next while. We'll miss her smile and gentle presence. I should send her some food; people on missions don't seem to eat right.

Taffey wrote us a report about some of the activity at Sunday's Wandering Tavern. It is troubling. I'll let Issachar handle it, though.

It's hard to let him lead sometimes. I've always trusted in myself, and had very little trust for others. But perhaps that's trust misplaced; I'm short-tempered and judgmental, inclined to jump when I should stand still and look around. Issachar is much steadier. (I've noticed that quality more often in men than women, although seldom in ANYONE these days. Peculiar. I wonder if that's innate or cultural? Possibly a result of the feminine inclination to solve problems and cultivate/nurture; these tendencies seek evidence of effect. Conduct research on this; hate to draw the wrong conclusions based on a cursory review of observed evidence. As my gnomish friends remind me, you can't judge a basilisk based on one leg; that's bad science.)

In any event, I still seem to suffer from microcosmic thinking, rather than a big-picture mentality. That's a form of immaturity, I suppose: see only what's around you and the immediate effects of your choices, as opposed to looking at the world as a whole system and contemplating the long-term ramifications.

Is there really any such thing as a "victimless crime"? (Note to self: Research what would constitute a victimless crime under current law.)

The things we do, the choices we make, have a lasting effect on our own hearts, if on nothing else. Every time we do something that makes our consciences recoil, do we not make it harder to feel those twinges in the future? And then what? Do we become monsters--like Arthas?

Moral compromise can be fatal, because we cannot possibly see to the end of the results of our choices. Better instead to do what we know is right, rather than just hoping we can get away whatever our selfish natures want--or pretending that the things we do don't have a dimension of right and wrong.

Does any choice not have a moral dimension? Isn't it possible that it is, indeed, a black-and-white universe when it comes to morality? I wonder...Perhaps sometimes the choice is between white and white.

I don't believe in "necessary evil."

And I'm rambling on paper again.

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((The handwriting is slightly shaky.))


Svetlaena. I thought she was better than that, but she was standing in the mage tower of Stormwind, ambushing people as they came through the portal. She and some other Horde. Ambushing them, attacking unseasoned fighters as well as those at the height of strength, five against one.

The Raven Cross has been attacking civilians, in Stormwind and Ironforge.

The Vrykul village in the Fjord...diseased by the Forsaken.

The things I've heard about Horde troops attacking Allied troops from behind, when already engaged in combat against the Scourge, betraying and backstabbing.

And Thrall does nothing. NOTHING.

((The next words seem almost charred into the paper.))

Are all the Horde infected with bloodthirst? Are they all dishonorable?

We fought in Hellfire Peninsula to defend Thrallmar against the Legion's cannon. We laid aside our grievances--for they always attacked us to start those wars!--to fight against a common foe...

And this is how we are repaid?


Are they such monsters that we can never have peace?

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((I am using the Wrathgate event as a touchstone for Tir's change of opinion. When someone of my acquaintance does the sequence, it will be fresh for them, and the exact event that starts Tir's change may become vague.))

Lord Fordragon...Bolvar...

The Forsaken.

Light take the freaks.

The witch-queen may claim that she knew nothing of Putress' actions, but she knew of the Apothecarium.

They all knew. All of them. Thrall, Cairne...all of them.

War criminals, hacking up the corpses of the fallen Alliance to make slaves of their bodies...torturing prisoners...the vile experiments...

War criminals. War criminals.

Justice must be done. There can be no peace with monsters.

Jaina Proudmoore. She saw, and prevented justice being done. Traitor. We shall no longer raise our hands to defend her.

Light help us to keep our own hands clean as we do justice. We must not fall into darkness, but walk ever in the Light...

As Issachar says, "There is a peace that can only be had on the other side of war." Let this war bring peace.

We shall take it straight to the ones responsible.

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(( Not writing about Terraya in your journal? Shame, shame! ;) Write a "Script to Riptide". Oh yes. Or "Chain Heal: My Thoughts". *Prepares for beanbag.* ))

(( I'm lovin' it though. Lovinnn' it all. Read it all. Wants more. Give. ))

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((Wow, I leave my journal alone for a few days, and suddenly a bunch of stuff happens. Thanks, Sylennis, for cleaning it up in my absence.))

Rumors abound, and while I know they're not always to be trusted, it is worrisome at times. I heard that someone I love very much has backslidden into his old habits of drinking himself stupid and making a public fool of himself. Between that and joining that gang of what Ezekias calls "ne'er-do-wells"...it's hard to remind myself that this is all hearsay. Anyway, he hasn't been around to see us in a very long time; all of these factors combined suggest that he either stopped caring, or never did. Still, it's not fair to judge on rumor. But if these rumors are true, it's probably for the best that he doesn't connect himself with us and thereby bring embarrassment.

I guess I'm a little hurt. Or a lot hurt. Oh well. Chalk it up to a bad risk. Not everyone is as wonderful as Issachar.

Another piece of grist for the rumor mill is that Fordragon Imports finally pushed the envelope too far. It's good to know that the Alliance still has limits, even if those limits are almost non-existent these days. Still, I do feel sorry for them all. If any of them are tired of that life and ready to take up REAL justice, maybe our own order could find a place for them.

Then I've heard that Svetlaena has vanished, going Light knows where. Maybe to atone for her sins? I hope so; we have enough monsters and unrepentant sinners. I hope someday we can be friends again.

Keltag, it seems, has retired for the time being. He and Dyiana have a baby now; it's best he spend time with the family. I'm looking forward to that special time with Issachar myself. I hope the three of them can spend it untroubled, and that the Light watch over them.

We've added a new member, Ayree, who was recently rendered blind by an accident. She seems to function fairly well, although not 100%. Might be something to do for her. We'll see. Engineers are remarkably clever...

My back is killing me. Travel is getting harder, and I'm starting to tire easily. And the evening sickness is coming back. I don't think we'll last the month before we need to stop.

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((Yeah, I'm not keeping up my journal very much. I'm spending a lot of time cleaning my house and getting it the way I want it. It's actually kind of fun--but then again, I've always been mildly obsessive-compulsive.

((I'd rather clean my house than sit around all day listening to people whine about how "it's not faiiiiiiir" that they got busted for driving around just this side of an alcoholic coma. Don't let anyone fool you into thinking that law is a glamorous profession.))

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Well, Cytiana left us. We rather expected that she would; despite our best efforts to make her feel welcome, it was fairly obvious that she wanted to spend more time with Trigin. She never came around on her leave anymore, anyway--and before she left, she did something that really annoyed me, a very shabby treatment of Drikner, like a servant she treated him while she...but it doesn't do any good to think about it, I suppose. Being upset won't change the past, or make her repent of it, or encourage her to be better.

Now I'm hearing rumors that he and that thug group decided to "defend the Alliance" by sneaking into Orgrimmar and ambushing younglings coming through their portal. Ambushing those who haven't a chance? I hear they do this a lot. What kind of dishonorable scum has he fallen in with?

He wrote to ask us to visit with him, but I think I don't ever want to see him again. I don't think I could bear the disappointment. From all accounts, he's reverted to exactly what he was when we met him: a drunk, a butcher, a user, a thief and a liar. Is his integrity wholly dependent on the company he keeps? If so, that's not integrity.

He's found another mother, one who, rather than expecting the best from him, will cheer him on as he follows her down the path of destruction.

The woman's hand leads him away from the Light, just as my dream foretold. I hate being right.

Why is the world so full of lying, cheating, self-absorbed beasts masquerading as people? The Dusk Watch will always have the accolades of the world, but they will never see Paradise--because they seek to impose Hell on Azeroth.

Issachar reminds me that we do not have our base in Stormwind--and that he does not use his title if he can avoid it--because he does not consider the Alliance to be worthy of our complete dedication. We serve the Light, and this leads us to aid the Alliance much of the time...but we are not of the Alliance. We have aided the Horde in the past as well...There are those whom we would aid again, even against some of the Alliance...

We belong to something higher. We belong to the Truth.

((NOTE: Don't take this stuff personally, people. Tir has her definite opinions IC, which sometimes differ from mine. I'm fairly sure that most folks in Dusk Watch are decent people OOC--like Omy or Wechsler, just to name a couple. If you feel yourself personally injured because my character doesn't like yours...maybe you're taking this game too seriously, maybemaybe? *cute smile*))

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Time to think of more positive things.

The house is feeling a little empty these days, with Aveia now installed in her new home. She still comes around frequently, to ask for help and advice, and they come around for dinner sometimes, but it's not quite the same. I think I begin to understand what it's like to have a child grow up.

Derakor's actually expressing a great deal of interest in cooking. I always figured there was something of the artist in him, but never really appreciated it until he showed how much he loves Aveia. He's still a thick-skulled blockhead, but he's HER thick-skulled blockhead...and what more can you ask? He treats her well.

My back is giving me increasing grief. I can't even go from standing to sitting without something popping loudly. We won't be able to travel much longer. I'm actually looking forward to maternity leave. My temporary "house arrest", I think, went a long way toward reconciling my doubts about my utility should our efforts for the world be put on hold. Now I can approach being "just a mom" for a while with a sanguine attitude.

The hard part might even be going back to our travels...

My evening sickness has found a cure; Terraya had once given me a potion for Melerra's colic, which we wound up not using (thank the Light she recovered quickly!), but I took a swig of it the other night, and I felt much better for it. I must let her know this.

Still expanding the cookbook. I wonder how long it will be before these "recipes of necessity"--invented to make weird meats edible, much less palatable--become delicacies and gourmet food? Perhaps when people spend less time up north, and more time at home? I look forward to that.

Peace would be good, for a change.

Still have to dispense some justice, though. Can't be any peace while the leaders of the other side countenance atrocities...because atrocities happen when you let yourself forget that your enemies are people, too.

How can we forget, with Melerra in the house?

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"If you feel yourself personally injured because my character doesn't like yours...maybe you're taking this game too seriously, maybemaybe? *cute smile*))"

Part of why I left Dunamis right there Tir. Only. Someone else was bringing their personal issues in game.))

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