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  1. Ellorian strode into the Oribos inn filled with purpose and determination. It had taken what felt like days of searching, tracking down rumors of the man he sought only to come up with dead ends. Apparently a half elf with a chip on his shoulder was hard to find in the afterlife. If only it were so back on Azeroth. Further complicating matters was that the company had an office here, forcing the paladin to go undercover lest he be discovered and sent back to complete his treatment. A transmorphic tincture allowed Ellorian to become Ella, and a set of robes acquired from a Broker interested i
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  2. My desperately avoiding spending time in this place seems to have led me to spending an inordinate amount of time in this place, whenever I can find the energy to bother to step through those portals, but in the interests of not falling to pieces -- again -- I have attempted to learn what I can. It stands in between me and where I want to be. I am not helped by not knowing exactly where I want to be, but a great deal of that is a certain rare comfortable quiet that I have built around me, making me reluctant to move forward. When you spend a great deal of time rewriting and reconstructing
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  3. Sometimes he cursed the days that bled into each other one after the other. When he had something to do the time was well spent and the inability to sleep was a blessing. But when the holidays approached it left him with endless amounts of time to check the main road and see if he was coming. For the hundredth time that day alone he found himself too distracted to do anything more than listlessly fiddle with his lab equipment. The holidays were always a hard time for him. What was a feast to a man who barely ate? What was snow to a man who hardly felt the cold? In these times he rarely felt
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