Written in Draenei
I sit to write for maybe the last time. It’s funny, I already know how this entry will end but I will write it anyway, while it is quiet.
I think someone called this time the calm before the storm. They were certainly not talking about last night. Nyres hosted a party with another person from the Legion, I believe. There was rabble-rousing, feasting and drinking; a big blow out for what may be some, or all, of our final days.
I spoke with Sigmar and Jarrick the night before and had considered traveling one last time to Stormwind and spending some time in the cathedral. It was not to be, however, and how selfish it would be now to ask a mage for a portal, not to mention getting back here for the assault. Besides I can say my prayers the same here as I could there. I think I am just looking to get away again. I am just done here in Dragonblight. I suppose we will be done Saturday one way or another.
About the party though, I made my appearance but I didn’t stay inside long. There were several people outside as well, Calithos, the Zephyrs and a few others. I think I noticed Xodius too. Nothing worth mentioning really, just ‘good old boys’ having fun. Only thing different was a little woman I came across, the one Calithos was being cruel to, though that seems common of him. Though it is nothing worse than will happen to anyone else this weekend.
I spoke with this little woman for a while, Shame was her name. She was a sweet girl and gave me a good luck trinket for this final battle. It is a pretty stone, not one like I have seen before though. It is nice to receive such a gift even as small and simple as it may appear. Really, the thought is what counts more than anything, especially coming from a stranger. If it is lucky enough to keep me alive then I will have to find her and thank her after all this.
I also learned that Xodius’...friend, Merry, is a fairly good speaker of Draenei. It’s not very often that I meet someone who is human that can speak more than a few words. I’ll have to speak with her again before we head off if she is still around. She has a long story to tell me anyway, it will be easier to understand in Draenei.
So what is to come, death or victory? That is what everyone is wondering. Though it doesn’t mean victory will come without death. This is a familiar feeling like what happened in Shattrath. This scheme will work or we will all die. Oddly I am at peace with this. I do not want to let go anymore, but I am not afraid of doing so.
If we win and I do not live what will be remembered of me? This journal? It is all that I have aside from my prayerbook with any meaning that is not junk. The things in this journal, however, are things I never want anyone to read or know of me.
I believe I heard a human I fought beside at Icecrown mention he had written a letter that he kept in his breast pocket. If he died there would be something to bring back to his family or guild. I may do just this.
Mosur sat on the upper ramparts over the front of the keep while he wrote. When he finished put the pen down and exhaled. He stood and placed his journal atop the merlon of the wall. His eyes scanned the bottom portion of the page a final time. “...to read of know of me.” He held his hand over the center of the journal and closed his eyes. After a moment the book ignited and began to burn. He watched it burn until he was satisfied of its destruction and left it.
Mosur