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About Falrei

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  • Birthday 12/09/1977

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  1. <p>Winter has come.</p>

  2. <p>When did you return? I thought this name sounded quite familiar.</p>

  3. Infuriating doesn't quite begin to describe my frustrations. It took over a week for my wonderful father to give me a moment's respite to myself. By then I was itching to try the spell out again, and I actually had to calm myself so as not to make the same mistake I must have made last time. Finally, I finished the last glyph, channeled the energy, and eagerly looked to the mirror. I know I hadn't fixed the spell to summon the creature myself, but I had hopefully adjusted it to... 'borrow' another's familiar. Failure! Not only did I have no more control of the creature than I did last time, but it was the same one! The blood elf was talking to some other elf... a lady that seemed both scarred and shy. For as little as he was saying she seemed awfully abashed at his presence. I certainly didn't see it. They were on top of the spire in Dalaran, enjoying the scenery or some such. Boring. So I tried again, a couple nights after. At least THIS time the paladin was doing something other than standing around. It was hard to see but I think he was in some kind of volcano, with a great many others all yelling and running about. Through the smoke and haze I could have sworn there was a dragon nearby, but the contact was broken when a great wall of fire washed over the mirror. But I still am no closer to figuring out the control of the creation than I was before! I don't care if I have to feign sickness for a week, I will find the time to work out my errors. Since I seem to be... connected to this particular strand of arcane magic, the only possible upside is I should be able to have a stronger chance at controlling this one. Gotta go... I hear yelling and I'm sure the servants will be up soon. Urgh!
  4. I've finally done it! Sort of... surely more than father would ever let me do. I'm so close to understanding the construction of the followers that all my teachers enjoy so thoroughly. I've watched how Master Razpheul beckons the creature over and has him grade papers. Me, graded by arcane energy! At first we all just joked about it, trying to hide our envy. It wasn't until Fer'lyn mentioned the fact that one day WE will have that kind of ability that I stopped to realize something. Why wait until that time. Why not now! Feverishly I've been working with the scroll. Father doesn't even miss it, an insight that I'm grateful for. Until now I have not dared even write about my midnight excursions into magic no one thinks me capable of. I was nervous and sweaty when I finally began to cast. It felt so right! The tingles grew along the back of my spine, filling me with elation. Surely this has to be better than sex! Well, maybe not better... But I digress. Mages don't talk about such things in books like this. So there I was, the spell complete, the look of sheer awe and curiosity shining in the mirror to my right. I waited first one second, and then several. But nothing appeared. Surely I didn't mess up! But as my heart began to race and my mind to comb through all of the events, I noticed that I was no longer in the mirror. I was in Dalaran. The STREETS in Dalaran. I looked into the mirror, and where I wanted to see, the mirror followed. I could practically smell the smoke from those motored vehicles, feel the vibration from the giant mammoths racing past. I glanced down to the road and noticed that it wasn't me at all though. I was looking through one of the familiars. I... must have merged with the arcane magic from another. But who? Well it didn't take me long to find out. Standing to my right was an elf, dressed all in plate mail. I must have been at an odd angle cause he was all glowy at first, but the vision cleared up after a few seconds. Magic seemed to ebb and flow from his person, but he didn't look like any mage I've ever seen. He had long, fiery red hair, and very lovely eyes. He seemed powerful. But boring. All he did was stand there! He must have watched like... a hundred different people pass right in front of him, all going to new and exciting places I'm sure, and he just stared. He might as well have been some dusty statue. I also found out that, when he was 'done' just standing there, he dismissed the familiar and my spell ended. What a waste. Maybe I can fix a few runes, make a different gesture... I'm so close! Worst case I'll actually find someone worth following around!
  5. <p>Thanks for the cake. Can't say I've been through here in a very long time. Hope your RPing is still going well. <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink.png" alt=";)" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>

  6. <p>*leaves a cupcake on the table.* Mmmmm cupcake.</p>

  7. ~You're all crazy! Nor did I realize my journal was missed so much. But yes, Fal HAS been back in the RP scene a bit lately and if interesting things occur I'll probably reawaken a 'new' journal to share his exploits with the world. ~
  8. ~What's left of it. I didn't even realize it still existed. ~
  9. <p>*Laughs* Well thank you for the message, and I suppose I do. I just have very few ties back to the RP world at current, but I'll see what I can drum up. Just glad to see things have been going strong in my absence. <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink.png" alt=";)" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>

  10. <p>RED! <3</p>

    <p>You needs to rp moar!!!</p>

  11. It seems I haven't taken much time to write in this lately. As I sit upon the serene plateau of Thunder Bluff, I suppose I'll take a few moments to write what I suspect will be my last words in this journal. My companions who I have hunted down the likes of Lady Vashj and Prince Kael have all gone their seperate ways. It grew to be too great a strain to continue with so many of our numbers unavailable to continue the pursuit in the Outlands. Having little to return to at home, I have been roaming the Outlands, doing what I can where I can. I have been invited to the ranks of another organization, but seeing as I am new and untested, it waits to be seen how much I'll be able to do through them. Even now I suspect they continue the assault on Black Temple where I should be. My vulnerabilities show more and more as the days progress. What little I am truly capable of on my own - reduced to a merceneary. I learned rather late of a festival in Mulgore, an area I travel to infrequently. As I rode in to the small village I noticed I recognized nearly no one. That's rather incorrect since I recognized some - but they are not people I speak with. And surely I didn't wish to run over and see how Vaande was. Perhaps I simply missed those I once knew... nevertheless, it fills me with a hollow pang that I thought left behind. So... it feels as I must disconnect from what was and embrace what little is left before me. Certainly there is a reason for all that has happened recently. As I watch the sun setting before me, lighting up the clouds in a marvelous display of reds and oranges, I will give this journal back to the earth. Although I've never been close to the ways of the Tauren, it somehow seems fitting that I do this here so far above the world below.
  12. I think those I used to know have disappeared entirely from this plane of existence. I'm unsure of the last time I even saw someone I frequently spoke with. I'm sure I could look through the pages of this journal, but that's not really necessary. Even my comrades in arms have been lacking as of late, and our campaign against Illidan, once strong and fervent, has been slowed down to a snail's crawl. M'uru no longer speaks to me, and the presence that once filled me lays empty. Although I don't feel abandoned by anything or anyone, I certainly do have a pervading sense of loneliness that nothing as of late has sated. The battlegrounds continue to thrive, and I've found myself returning to keep my skills sharp. But there is no end goal to aim for and I find that my once grand passion has dwindled to stoic duty. What lays before me I cannot do alone. And in the meantime that is all I have in spades. I have yet to despair at my situation. But I grow hollow. The last person who stopped to speak with me turned out to be a beggar. A polite one, but no more than someone who wished to have money from me so that they could fund their own personal projects. I had no intentions of giving him even one copper, but for a moment or two I had persuasion to draw out the conversation, if only to figure out why he does what he does - maybe even perversely I wanted to know if he had success in simply asking others for their hard earned gold. What is there left for me to search for.
  13. Things have continued to remain quiet - even in the Outlands - and I've found myself meeting a few new people in recent days. There was a lady orc that I ran into while helping out the children of the Lower City, and yesterday I spoke with Lady Auoria. She reminds me a bit too much of Saturna in a sense... but I always have to respect someone who returned to duty after having retired. She certainly doesn't seem too old, and I fear she walked away from the scene cause she feels guilty over not having stopped the attack on Silvermoon long, long ago. She seems intent on serving so it's likely I won't end up seeing her again for awhile. I think she has much left to do, but I'll keep my eye out for her just the same. My journal entries seem smaller and far less frequent, but I find I just have less to write about. I still haven't seen many of my old contacts and I presume they're all doing their own things nowadays. Hopefully they are all well.
  14. At long last I think I may rest awhile. It seems many things got accomplished this week, and all at once I'm able to breath again. Not to say there is nothing more to do - duty is never finished. But there is the higher probability I can return to Silvermoon for longer periods of time. However... as I sit here and write, the city seems quite... mundane. There are few people about, and of the ones I saw half belong to those misguided guardians, the Grim. Naturally I avoided speaking with them, and the brief bit I was able to catch, the woman was insulting the man over something about himself. It seems a shame I suppose. Perhaps I should have intervened, but the male seemed more than capable of defending himself if he chose to. Hopefully the city is as robust as I once remember. It'd be nice to catch up with people although I fear they're all quite busy with their own lives by now.