Anka

((As with any of my blogs about Anka, she wasn't warned beforehand.  As always, if there's anything she doesn't approve of, it will be remedied.  And, as you should know by now, I have no artistic skill and so big thanks to Lorith/Echo, for drawing me a picture while I beat my computer with a hammer))

((I needed to write this before the event passed too far behind but I wasn't as inspired as I wish I could have been.  Title stolen from Zao.  The conversation with Anka took place too long ago for me to remember it exactly))

((Title and lyrics stolen from Amon Amarth.  The tale is of Ragnarok, of course.))

"Another dream...old poems from a book of mythology I used to have...each verse was a differen' vision...of...well...lemme tell ya..."

The Northern wind brings snow and ice
Humans starve and freeze
The Fimbul winter has arrived
...And soon the world will cease to be

May 24th
The Farm
Raining the past three days


Pugnose is going stir crazy inside.  And he is not the only one.  A particular strom blew over a small piece of the fencing along the far side of the Western pasture.  The rams are aggitated, kept penned in the smaller Southern.  And I am getting vexed trying to keep husband and hired-hands occupied.  Spring rains have encouraged the flowers though, and my beds and the fields are a riot of cheer when the sun breaks through.  Thank the gods for small favors.  Rebirth.  Renewal.  Regrowth.  I should be more thankful of the rain.

Just a bit hard to remember that, when your husband is tracking mud onto the rugs--again.

I have spoken to a few people since my last entry.  Sometimes I forget the world moves so quickly for humans.

{{ Originally posted 10/30/2005 on the Blizzard forums by Valkyros, level 37 human paladin }}

The journey to Stormwind was so cold. He hated flying over the mountains into Ironforge. Oftentimes Valkyros would stand for hours near the greta forge just to drive the chill from his bones.

Stromwind opened to him like a familiar lover. He breathed in the rich autumn air. So much of the city was warm and inviting, intersting how it seemed to change as he grew up here. He recalled his youth spent in a seemingly cold and distant place. And yet Stormwind was the same.

{{ Repost }}

The 26th day of the 9th month of the year 26

My manuscript has been sent, Sashai is still sleeping, the sun won't rise for hours, and I'm staring at a pair of vials. One contains a vile-looking specimen of a plant and the other ... the other a final gift from Arielle. Her blood. Blood will separate within hours, leaving a dark-red layer of sludge beneath a red-tinged layer of water. I've had this for three days now, and it's still mixed; the Plague is maintaining it.

{{ Repost. Events from 8/14/05 (26) }}

{{Sometimes, you just have to actually see what happened to truly appreciate it.

The night before this incident, Guiniver jumped from the Stormwind bridge right in front of Sowelu, for reasons Sowelu didn't understand at the time. Sowelu, of course, blamed herself for her friend's "death" and got completely wasted on bourbon. She went to Goldshire looking for a fistfight, and when she couldn't find one she went into Westfall in her regular clothes and with her mace. But, trashing beasts and defias still didn't ease her pain, so she returned to Stormwind, stocked up again to keep herself numb, and went to the Golden Leaf. Anka was engaged in a serious conversation upstairs, so I sat by myself until Whitley came in... }}

{{ Repost }}

The Eleventh day of the Eight month of the 26th year

I look at the letter in my hand and I still wonder how I came to this point in my life. It wasn't even four months ago that I stepped through the gate in Northshire and left the only world I had known for six years. A short time, but I'm far removed from the frightened little girl that timidly asked for a room in the Lion's Pride. And yet I've still such a long way to go.

{[ Posted 7/11/05 on the Blizzard forums by Saya, level 60 night elf priest, The Emerald Guardians }}

*another letter floating around Stormwind*

{{ Posted 7/11/05 on the Blizzard forums by Anka, level 42 human priest, The Meddlers }}

As Anka's mare struggled to keep up with DeMolay's charger, Anka struggled with an ethical dilemma. She knew little of warlocks' practices save what she had learned at Joshuwa's lecture, but something about DeLuca's request wasn't sitting right. There were a lot of assumptions involved in this undertaking -- far more than she was usually willing to overlook. Assuming the shaman was correct, assuming this felcloth bandage could actually heal Walters, assuming DeLuca's experiments with the healthstones would be benign. Assuming this whole thing wasn't a massive set-up.

{{ Posted 7/11/05 on the Blizzard forums by DeMolay, level 52 paladin, Knights Hospitaller }}

..DeMolay sat upon his horse waiting for Feren to arrive. He needed the healthtone from her and knew that he was pushing the limits of his friendship. She's always been loyal and eager to help, but to call her away from her duties...that could not be good.

{{ Posted 6/29/05 on the Blizzard forums }}

The 29th day of the 6th month of the 26th year of the invasion

I woke with cold chills racing up and down my spine, the words echoing in my head: "only remembering your undying love to the Scourge, and that Baron Erik Sidellis commands you." I made sure Baristan was still sleeping soundly and slipped quietly down the stairs. I listened carefully at the bottom, but I heard no movement or breathing; my "protectors" must have stepped out. I went to the table to pour a cup of juice.

{{ Posted 6/29/05 on the Blizzard forums }}

The 28th day of the 6th month of the 26th year of the invasion

I was shaking as I closed my door behind me, grateful Anka had insisted Kemec walk me home. The evil unleashed at the Golden Tavern tonight was stronger than any I'd ever encountered. I don't know what it was, but it screamed through my head and made my own taint surge through my body. I don't know if I screamed, however the lump on my head showed that I had hit the table or chair when I collapsed. I don't know how I managed to feign my recovery and walk home, but my self-control was slipping quickly. I was on my hands and knees by the time I reached the top of the stairs.

{{ Posted 6/28/05 on the Blizzard forums by Sidellis, level 13 undead mage }}

Ahhh... so now the paper pushers and record keepers delve into the past of Baron Erik Sidellis. The libararians ponder and boggle at why no record of me can be found. Well little on, let me tell you the tale of the good Baron. A tale that I promise you, shall end most happily for me... if not so happily for you...

{{ Posted 6/27/05 on the Blizzard Forums by Anka, level 34 human priest }}

Anka scanned the last page of the ledger. Not finding the answer she was seeking, she closed the cover with a resounding thud and muttered an epithet questioning Bathrilor's ancestry. She suspected the record keeper would be able to find the information she was looking for in no time flat, but new reports had come in from Darkshire and he was too busy updating the Royal Census to lend any aid.

(( Another in-game event, this one from last night. ))

"I think it's time, let's go pick ourselves a Gryphon..." Elbryon patted the neck of his horse.  Ilvaern looked excited.  The ride out to Shadowmoon Valley and Wildhammer Stronghold was a long one, but it would be one that would make their ongoing quests in Outlands much easier.

{{ First posted on Realmportal 7/12/05 }}

The 15th day of the 6th month of the year 26

I started working at the Golden Leaf Tavern this week. Rassani was no longer able to keep it open due to some personal matters and Anka decided to run it in the meantime.

She’d had a long week, trudging through the jungle, fighting raptors,  and now her shift tonight seemed like it would be a bigger adventure.  Arternal wasn’t around, he’d probably been sent out on a mission. Lilly thought back to their short talks during a few of her shifts, where she had discovered he was a paladin in training.  He was a nice man, always willing to help her out, get some stock, or even wrangle the worst of the drunks. Lilly groaned as she realized she would be alone if Anka didn’t show tonight.  Lilly went in and began to set the bar up for the night.  As the seventh bell began to ring, she could hear the door swing open and the sounds of boots on the floor and quickly Lilly found herself to busy to worry.