Aleria Fadeleaf

Introduction.
Written by Ixe Shortspanner ((Aleria's Informant/Assistant))

A word from the author.
Greetings Reader!
If you are reading this, you have no doubt picked up one of the finest accounts on the Huntress, Aleria Fadeleaf, that can possibly be found. This book documents her life to date, and provides an in-depth look into every aspect of it. Where previous editions fail, this book does not, allowing more insight than ever before.

Read on, Dear Reader.



Physical Description.
Aleria is a average sized Night Elf, with light blue skin, often frayed blue hair, and silver eyes, which aren't as illuminated as other Night Elves' eyes. Often times, you can actually see her pupils. (which is nice because with most night elves, I don't know if they're even looking at me or not.) This is primarily because she is only half Kal'Dorei, she also has Highbourne blood running through her viens, and the illumination of the eyes is largely dependent on the magical energy within the body, rather than a connection to nature. Most of the time she will be wearing an imperial red robe, a red chapeau, and her military epaulets, which she earned through conscripted service to the Alliance armies. Her face is her autobiography, usually showing a pained expression, with obvious signs of fatigue, mostly written in her eyes. This is a result of her extreme dedication to her work, which has taken its toll. (Though at 3146 years old, she is considered young by Night Elf standards, however I predict that she will probably work herself to death somewhere before she reaches 3175, or will crack under the pressure, and maybe take a good look at what her work has done to her.) Aside from her eyes, the only other distinguished marks on her face are two facial tattoos, which she recieved during her service in the Sentinel Army, almost four years ago. (She doesn't like to talk much about those)

Personality.
Aleria is fairly reclusive when not in the company of freinds, and even then she can be difficult to gauge. She is very sarcastic, and usually speaks as if she is trying to make a point. While others have described her as kind, she often doubts herself, remembering isolated instances where she proved different. She is fairly shy when not in a group. She also can not take a compliment well. One striking departure from her normal personality is the tendency to get very passionate about something she's arguing about or fighting for.

Opinion of the Current War.
One of Aleria's defining characteristics is her negative opinion towards the current war. She believes that the Alliance's war against the Horde has been fueled primarily by old hatreds, and imperialist expansionism. She also believes that this war will cause the destruction of this world, at the hands of what she calls "our true enemies". (Unfortunately for her, she was recently conscripted into the Alliance Military.)

-In her own words.

"In past wars, the Alliance has been the standard bearer of truth and justice in this dangerous world. This conflict is a departure from all that heroes like Lothar, Uther, Bronzebeard, and Malfurion stood for. We have become the aggressors, clinging to hatred and bloodlust, motivated by illusions that were true long ago, and no longer apply. Today's Horde is not the Demon spawned army of destruction we used to know, today's Horde is based on principles and honor, they hold the same interests we do, yet we continue to ignore that." (This quote was taken from her "The Departure" speech, delivered to the House of Commons shortly before the Solstace Meetings.)

Magical Addiction.
Because Aleria's geneology streaches into the region of the Highbourne, Aleria has a minor addiction to magic. I say minor, because in comparison to that of the Blood Elves, it is relatively slight. She is also consiously disdainful of said addiction, however, Aleria's addiction has some special properties, which we are not yet sure have been exhibited with Blood Elves. (Though reports of Blood Elves consiously becoming ravenous monsters have been documented.) This notice (Which I ended up writing) was recently posted on the wall in the guildhall of the order of Eternity:

Quote :

-To Whom it May Concern

Now that my addiction to magic has become common knowledge, I think it would be best if you all knew some more about it, and how to deal with it.

My addiction to magic comes from my father's side of the family. Although the Fadeleaves, Highbourne at the time of the War of the Ancients, decided not to follow Queen Aszara, the family has always had an addiction to magical energies, up to this point, we've been very good at hiding it. Since before I can remember I've been consuming magic in small amounts, to quench my peculiar variant of the addiction.

My addiction is largely focused in a part of my subconsious, which craves magic, and is highly rebellios, it's almost another personality which has crawled inside my mind. When it feels that there is not enough magic being consumed, it will try to gain control of what magic is left in my system, and will try to take control of my body. Over the years, it has become very adept at this, being able to amass the energy fairly quickly, and requiring all my concentration to beat it back. When my subconscious attacks, I will be unable to respond to anything, and it will appear as if I am in a trance, however, I am completely aware of what is going on, I can see, hear, and notably, feel what is going on around me. This makes it very difficult to keep every ounce of my concentration on my mutinous other personality. So please, if I am unresponsive, and I seem to be in a trance, the last thing you want to do is touch me, distracting my focus for a split second to the nerve endings in that area. If my focus is even slightly distracted, I will lose control.

Another important thing, when I am in a trance, or when I have lost control, take great care not to use any magic. When I have lost control, I will consume any available magic that I can find, which will cause great harm or injury to whoever, or whatever I am getting that magic from. It will also feed the part of my subconscious trying to keep control. While your intentions may be good, the result will be disasterous.

In the event that I enter a trance or lose control, please, pay attention to what Erevar is doing, and try to figure out why he is doing that. I say this because during his frequent attempts to stop people from touching me while in a trance, he has been ignored or pushed aside, resulting in a complete loss of all control over my body. Please heed his warnings, and do as he wishes.

Finally, you probably have noticed that I am currently tied up in the corner. Which is the reason I had an assistant write this for me, and post it on the wall. This is because one night, I unwillingly consumed a small portion of Fel Energy, which is impossible to root out of the body, and can only be contained. Jaster and Pit are currently working on treatments, but until then, my subconscious could try to take control at any time, which is dangerous to myself, and everyone in the area. My subconscious knows this, and will try to strike when it's most convenient, so for your sake and mine, leave me be until the treatment is finally ready. The consequences of not heeding this warning could be catastrophic at this point.

Hopefully, my present condition will not last long, but until a treatment can be found, please heed these warnings. If you have any questions or concerns, you know where to find me.


Aleria Fadeleaf
Huntress of Eternity
Delegate to the House of Commons in Stormwind.

Aleria did consume token amounts of energy in the past, but only recently have these fits of insanity come to surface. Before, we originally assumed that it was a rebellios part of her subconscious that was inducing her loss of control. It turns out, it was a banshee. Currently, Aleria is working as hard as possible to expunge the Banshee from her body, which has not been an easy task.

Member of the Delegation.
Aleria Fadeleaf is currently a delegate to the Stormwind House of Commons, which discusses current issues, proposes and enacts new laws. This is Aleria's primary arena, for which she prepares for day after day, day and night. She can often be spotted running around the keep, or finishing up some paperwork, wherever she can. (Again, I think this maddening dedication to her work will be the death of her.) Her politics mostly concentrate around eliminating the "true threats" to our world, while maintaining a peaceful coexistence with the Horde. She also believes in fixing the Alliance's oppressive tax structure, and bringing an end to corruption within the keep.

A few other interesting facts.
1. Aleria believes in the light, not Elune. this is because she has a strong distaste for what Night Elf society has become, at the reigns of Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm. She believes that her race has become too fanatical in many respects, primarily, their aggressive policy towards the Warsong Clan.

--In her own words:

"The assaults which are now being carried against the Warsong lumber mills in Ashenvale Forest are nothing short of barbaric, and they show the unwillingness of the Staghelm controlled government of Darnassus to compromise. Instead of sanctioning off a certain area where they can work, or sharing with them more efficient means of lumber harvesting, they attack without warning, and without reason." (From her speech: "Crimes against the Horde" On the resumption of attacks on the Warsong by Darnassus.)

2. Aleria is Silithiphobic, and has a hard time dealing with the Silithid threat. She believes they are a primary threat in the world, ranking amoung the scourge, and even the legion. (She may be right about the Scourge)

3. Aleria cannot dance, and is often lost at parties and social gatherings. (Methinks it's her work that is to blame)

4. Aleria suffers from insomnia, a sleeping disorder.

5. Aleria once had a sister, who used to send her letters about her travels in Azeroth. Unfortunately, she was listed as "Missing in action" and presumed dead by the Stormwind Military forces in Hellfire Penninsula. Last known location was broken hill.

((Revised Edition. For Eternity Members only.)) ((Revised 07/29/07-07/30/07; Further Revised 08/05/07))

Fadeleaf Family History
Written by Aleria Fadeleaf

My family originally takes its lineage from the days of the Highbourne. Vellidain the first, the first head of household that appears on the historical record, started life as a peddler, who sold custom made bows and arrows all over the Night Elven kingdom. Soon, by saving up, and hiring others, he accumilated a vast amount of wealth, which he finally spent on a few acres of mountainous land, deemed useless by the rest of society. (He picked it up for an incredible bargain, and didn't spend anything until he got it, leaving him with the nickname, "Vellidain the Cheap") On this tract of land, located in Northern Felwood, where a Satyr encampment now stands, he harvested the surrounding trees to build a grand estate, which took fifty years to complete. He eventually married, but had only one son, whom he also named Vellidain. Tragically, about fifty years after that, Vellidain the first was killed by a cave bear during one of his hunts.

Despite the estate that he had built, and the small business he had owned, the Fadeleaves were still fairly poor. Vellidain the Second, his son, changed all that. He managed to skillfully turn the business into an industry, using the surrounding forests and mountains to his advantage. He created and tested many specialty bows and arrows, which came to be used by the elite highbourne on thier regular hunting trips. Soon, the Fadeleaves entered the fold of high society, gaining access to the exclusive right to use magic. The Fadeleaves looked upon magic as a tool, not an addiction. They found many uses for it, including the imbuement of arrows to better seek their targets so they could hit more often when chasing down thier prey.

Vellidain the second soon handed over the reigns to his son, whom he also named Vellidain. By this time, the Fadeleaves became well known for thier extravagant gatherings, and hunting trips, thier business had grown strong, and they were well regaurded by most of society. However storm clouds were beginng to cast thier shadow over the land, and there was growing dissent between the Highbourne, and the rest of night elf society. Vellidain the third died three years before the War of the Ancients, by an assassin's dagger. The assailant was never found, nor was his employer.

When the War of the Ancients broke out, Vellidian the fourth halted production, stating that he would not allow his kin to kill each other with his bows, which were meant to be used as tools of sustinence, and sport, not weapons of war. The Fadeleaves insisted to remain neuteral, and advocated for a reasonable solution, a compromise for both parties. However, a highbourne thief who killed Vellidain's son for a magical trinket changed all of that. Vellidain sided with the Night Elves, to the dismay of his wife, and his daughter. His wife eventually left him, favoring the cause of the Highbourne. However, Vellidain would not let his daughter, Aela, my sister, to follow her mother. He began to rehire his old workers to produce weapons for the Night Elves.

After the war of the Ancients, Vellidain remarried, he continued his company, and eventually, his new wife, Elandorie gave birth to me. As he aged, he grew more and more bitter, over the death of his son, over the magic which had been taken away completely, and over the growing failures of his business. As Night Elf society became more and more communal, the Fadeleaves became more and more reclusive. As a result, my exposure to propoganda of Night Elf principles and ideas was relatively limited. I was taught by one of his personal friends, and by my great grandfather. One hundred years before what is regaurded as "the third war" Aela joined the Sentinel army, to the dismay of my father, whose mental deterioration continued as a result. He became prone to fits of anger, where he destroyed property, and hurt those around him. One of these fits of anger killed my great grandfather, Vellidain the second, over a dispute about the family business, which was in terrible shape.

Then the third war found the borders of Ashenvale forest. As I was conscripted to service in the sentinel army, he again stepped up production, and shipped arms to the Sentinel army. But as the demons moved into Felwood, he was forced to mount a defense of his own at the estate. The company put up a valiant defense, but right before the forces under Illidain's command could move in, the Demons finally broke through. I watched with my very eyes as a hellgaurd broke through the estate, found my father, and ripped him in two, thus ending any hope of continuing the line.

((Revised Edition))((Revised 08/05/07))

Aleria's Personal History, from Childhood to the end of the Third War.
Written by Ixe Shortspanner

Three thousand and fourty six years ago, Aleria was born to the family of Vellidain Fadeleaf IV in the mountians of what is now Northern Felwood. She lived most of her life there, secluded from the rest of Night Elf society, and taught by her great grandfather, Vellidain the Second, who became her mentor, and the most influential person in her life. (However, this is one of the reasons why Ms. Fadeleaf has a disdainful opinion of Night Elf culture, she was never exposed to what she calls "the propoganda" that had been taught to most Night Elves.) She had an affinity for playing the violin, and she quickly took up the family profession of hunting, becoming an excellent shot at a young age. During this time, she also picked up her addiction for magic, a trait which had persisted in her family for generations. Mostly due to necessity, but partly due to family traits. (I say necessity, because Aleria is half High Elf, and half Night Elf. This interesting combination makes the consumption of magical energies both necessary for survival, but also dangerous due to addiction.)

Aleria was very close to her sister, and was torn up when she left to join the Sentinel Army, about 300 years before the third war. During that time, she worked for her father, who was losing control of his business, little by little, as his clientele continued to disappear. (Hunting for sport was regaurded almost as a crime at this point, and the Sentinel Army had a habit of requisitioning his goods.) Vellidain the Fourth became more reclusive, and more protective of everything he was afraid to lose. His business, his home, and his remaining daughter. This came out several times right in front of Aleria's eyes, including the time when Vellidain the Fourth killed his grandfather, Vellidain the Second, over a business dispute, which broke out a few years before the third war. This devastated her, and caused an enormous rift to develop between her and her father.

When the third war broke out, Vellidain prevented Aleria from going to war, in every way he could. But eventually, the Sentinel Army came knocking, and to the greiving dismay of her father, Aleria went to war. She was originally stationed with a squad of sentinels to raid Orc lumber encampments on the southern border of Ashenvale. But right before they were about to attack, a large horde of undead warriors crashed through the forest and destroyed it first, then turned to advance further. The squad fled, eventually meeting up with forces under the control of Illidain Stormrage in Felwood, three days later. Being assigned to defend Illidain's base camp, elevated on a mountain overlooking the battlefield, Aleria got a front row seat to watch as Illidain sent hundreds of Night Elves to thier deaths, seemingly without a care in the world, so that he could consume the Skull of Gul'dan, and take power for himself. Aleria also saw on the opposing mountainside, the Fadeleaf Estate, which burned to the ground after a small contigent of Hell Gaurds and Infernals had attacked it. (Aleria has often regaurded this as the worst experience she ever had, just sitting there, not being able to help.) Shortly after Illidain consumed the skull, the Night Elves' fighting retreat had led them to the summit of Mount Hyjal, where final defensive positions had been established. Aleria was stationed in the Horde camp, where she befriended many Orcs and Trolls, and met Thrall, the visionary leader of the Horde. (Today, Aleria idolizes Thrall, as one of the most capable leaders of all time.) During the battle, the Horde camp was overwhelmed by the legion, and during the attack, an orcish warrior jumped in front of the projectile of a meat thrower, that was intended for Aleria. The body flew back, and she was trapped under it for the remainder of the battle. She remained unconsious as the legion marched on toward the summit, eventually woken up by a High Elf preist after the battle ended.

With her home destroyed, and her father dead, Aleria remained in the Sentinel Army, and travelled with the forces under Malfurion Stormrage and Tyrande Whisperwind to the islands of the Maelstrom and to the Eastern Kingdoms in pursuit of Illidain. But after returning, she quickly left the Sentinel Army, and took up residence in Auberdine, until the new world tree was sprouted. At that time, she moved up to Dolanaar, where she found a nightsaber, which she named Erevar, in the surrounding forests. (Erevar is the only reminder of Night Elf culture that Aleria seems to be unable to rid herself of, besides the painfully inescapable fact that she is half Night Elf.) She lived in Dolanaar for only six months before she was evicted to make room for a Darnassian noble, who wanted to build his dream house there. When this happened, Aleria got fed up, and moved to Stormwind...

((Revised Edition))((Revised 08/13/07))

Aleria's Personal History: Stormwind.
Written by Aleria Fadeleaf.

I first arrived in Stormwind about two years ago, after my house in Dolaanar was siezed by the Darnassian nobility. Everything about Stormwind was new to me, and I suspect, being one of the few Night Elves in the city at the time, I was new to them. Needless to say, as humans often do, most of the city's inhabitants kept thier distance, which made it very difficult to find a job. I first started working at the canal tailor and fit shop, on the Stormwind canals, where I was assigned the task of sorting out the completed clothes onto the shelves, or into their respective boxes. After about a month of that, I was through, I couldn't stand it anymore. The one problem with that was that now I had no way to pay my rent, at the guilded rose, and as I walked the streets that day, the question of what I was going to do continuously buzzed around in my mind.

The next morning, I was walking in the Mage district, passing many of the shops and residences along the side of the road, when I saw a Stormwind Noble pass by with a procession of guards. At first, I thought nothing of it, but when I looked behind, I saw that he was turning to one of the private residences. I thought to myself "now why would he be doing that?". Intrigued, I turned back the other way to see what was going on. Hiding in the bushes, I watched as he casually strolled up to the door, and ever so lightly, knocked on it. When the owner, an old woman who had seen the horrors of all three wars, eventaully came the door to see who her visitor was, a pale look encompassed her face. The noble looked coldly into her eyes. "Judging by your expression, I think you know why I am here...". His words had little emotion, they all came out flat. "Your taxes, they've been due since yesterday, yet we at the keep have no record of your payment... I understand this is not the first time you have defaulted.". The woman, in a state of horror, hastily replied. "I.. I'll have them soon, I've just run into some..." the noble interrupted: "I'm sure you're aware that according to Stormwind Property Law Amendment 13, line 6, 'the owner of any private property within the juristiction of Stormwind City shall pay no less than five gold peices per month in taxes to the city.'?". The woman tried to continue: "Yes, I know, I just need a little more time! I've had some problems as of late, and I just...". She was cut off again. "I've had enough of your excuses, woman, now step aside." Before she could open her mouth to protest, two of the guards pushed her aside, and started throwing her possessions out of the house. As I watched her belongings being tossed out onto the street, I started to remember about my own eviction. This little man was destroying this woman's life, with the flick of his bony hand. She had been through enough, and now this? It was unmistakably obvious that this was not right, and as I came out of the bushes to protest, a Stormwind guard, on the side of the street, who was also watching the whole mess, took me aside, and quickly told me to stay out of this affair, it was none of my business. "This man can have you thrown in the Stockade for simply looking at him funny, it's better for you to just move along."

So I left, watching the woman weep as the noble continued to uproot her life. I knew that this wasn't right, and no matter how hard I tried I could not get the image of her face out of my mind. Five gold peices a month is outrageous, she could never pay that at her age. As I continued to think about it, I began to go over my own situation. I knew that in a couple of months I would no longer be able to pay my rent, and the same thing would happen to me. As I walked down the canal district, thinking about my predicament, I found a job offering, in the form of a sign in the window of a small building. Inside, a secretary was hastily writing in a small notebook, and taking stacks of paper to her desk from the back room. The sign on the window read: "WANTED: ONE ASSISTANT FOR OFFICE POSITION.". I was about ready to leave, convinced that this was not the job for me, when I caught the fine print at the bottom of the sign: "NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY." After I saw that, I decided to try whatever it was they were going to have me do, just so long as I got a decent pay until I could find a better job. I walked in, carrying the sign, and without a word or looking up from her stack of papers, she pointed towards a door to her left. Before I was about to open the door, she muttered: "Knock first". I took a pause, looking at what she was doing, then proceeded to knock on the door. Not a second after I had knocked, I heard yelling coming from inside the room. "EMMA! I told you NOT to disturb me! Did you get that paperwork done yet!?" The secretary sighed, walked over, and opened the door a few inches. "It's a job applicant.. sir." She seemed to put extra emphasis on sir. "Oh really, well, send them in before we miss our deadline again!" The secretary swung the door open, and walked over to her desk, without a word. I walked into a medium sized office, with a few assorted momentos on the wall, accompanied by a picture of the King of Stormwind. In the center sat my future boss, a lobbyist for whatever business needed his services. He was a tall middle aged man, with a finely tailored suit, and a pair of ornately crafted spectacles. He seemed to be working on something. I sat down in the seat in front of his desk, and after a few minutes of working, he looked up. "You look awful pale, have you spent too much time indoors, or have you been hanging around those painters down the street?" I had no idea what he was talking about at first. "By the way, you've got something stuck to your head." He started jesturing to the side of his head. I put my hand up to where he was jesturing, and I found my ear. He suddenly realized what I was exactly, and started laughing. "Oh, that's funny, I'm sorry, but I didn't know they grew THAT long! Hahaha!" I smiled a bit while he continued to laugh. "Honestly, how do you put a hat on with those things!!" I was growing a bit annoyed when he started going into jokes, but I stuck it out until he finally gained control of himself. "Ok, now what are you here for? You're not here to protest against me, are you?". "No" I replied. "I'm just looking for a job". He looked up in almost amazement, before his look shifted back to normal. "Good, the last thing I need is another elf telling me that I use too much paper. Ok then, If you want a job, then you can start by going into the back room, and sorting out all the paperwork back there, by the numbers at the top of the page." I nodded. "When do I start?". He gave me a bewildered look. "Now! Or you're fired!". I quickly got up, and left the office to head over to the back room. I passed the secretary, who was giving me a wicked grin. I had thought nothing of it until I saw the back room.

The back room was actually a room that could have easily been a master bedroom of a large estate, but instead, it was filled from wall to wall with paperwork, all jumbled up and in a mess. I started work, finding first a paper with the number 54, and another one that said 96. As I picked up more pages, I started finding repeats, and then I realized that these numbers were not supposed to be lined up in order, they represented a STACK of papers. So I started organizing them into thier stacks, of which there were about three hundred.

It took me about a week to sort all of those papers out, and when I was finished I had felt quite proud of myself. After I was finally done, I marched confidently over to his office. The secretary was smiling again, shaking her head back and forth. I was puzzled, but I went on through his door, and triumphantly told him that I had finished. As I stood there beaming, he continued to look down at his work, as if no one was there. As I was about ready to address him again, he said, without even looking up. "Good, now I need you fill them out." At this point my confidence had slumped. "Emma will show you how... oh, and get some sun, you're still pale as a ghost." Still confused by what he was talking about, I walked out of the room, and to the secretary's desk. She immediately started talking, very quickly. "I heard about what you're doing so save your breath, now take a look here. Stacks one through fifty are all accounting, don't worry about those. Stacks 53, 74, 80-134, and 207 only need a signature and a date. Everything else is documents, catalog them, and be sure to write a full report on them, understand? Good, because I will not repeat myself." She immediately looked back onto her own work, leaving me to remember the confusing jumble of protocol she just threw at me. (For those of you who have been asking to be my assistant, this is why I turn you down.)

For the next three months, this is what I did, diligently, and thanklessly, until the one day I decided to show up an hour early for work. Starved for recognition, I decided that arriving early would make my boss fully aware that I was a valuable worker, and that I deserved a promotion, or at least in increase in pay. When I arrived, the secretary looked like she was having the time of her life, a rarity for this woman. She was packing up her belongings, and placing them into her bag. Oddly enough, the door to my employer's office was left wide open. As I walked in, I noticed the ramshackle state of the room. Many of the pictures had fallen off the walls, and the desk was overturned. Laying atop of it was the corpse of my employer, with a stake driven through his body. I think I finally understood why the secretary was so happy. As I walked out, two Stormwind gaurds blocked the doorway, while the secretary sobbed, pointing at me saying. "That's her! She's the one!". The gaurds approached me, and had me arrested. Luckily for me, investigators found the true culprit of the crime after only a couple of weeks. I was never told who it was, though I think I have a good idea.

After leaving the stockade, the building was torn down, and I was given the paperwork that remained in the building. The city claimed that if they tried to burn it, it would be a fire hazard, and since I was the only remaining employee in the business, that it was my responsiblity to take care of the problem. After stashing the paper in my rented out room in the inn, I decided to use the resources given to me, and fight for my own causes. This is how I started my political career. After about a year and six months, I was asked to be a Delegate to the House of Commons, and here I am today.

((Revised Edition))((Added 08/14/07-08/15/07))

Aleria's Personal Politics.
Written by Ixe Shortspanner.
Aleria centers most of her focus on several main areas. This helps to strengthen her position on the issues that she feels most passionate about.

Aleria believes in Liazzez Faire Government, which is based upon the idea that a good government is a government that simply guides the beast, rather than trying to directly control it. She will opt for smaller government, rather than beaurocracy, even thought it might not always seem so. She vehimently defends personal rights, and she is not a fan of moral intervention.

In her own words:
"When the keep steps in to every aspect of a person's life, our society gets closer and closer to one of absolute control, a society where one person is running everyone's life. That's why we have the House of Nobles, in addition to the King's rule, because that one person is a person just like the rest of us. They make mistakes, they have lusts and desires, and they may not always be the right person for the job. Look at Darnassus and you will see exactly what I mean."



Aleria is very keen, however, to follow the laws, even if she does not agree with them. She rarely operates outside the law, and tries to find a way around it first.

Aleria does not support the war against the Horde, she believes it is a war fueled by only hate and bloodlust, backed up with bad experiences that no longer apply to today's Horde. She also believes that the true enemies of this world will strike in the middle of a war with the Alliance and the Horde, leading to the world's destruction.

In her own words:
"Four years ago, Admiral Daelin Proudmoore sailed to Durotar, the new homeland of the Horde. Led by Thrall, this new Horde was determined to make a positive impact on the world, and abandon their past of being the pawns of manipulative demon masters. When Proudmoore landed, he didn't listen to that, he instead launched a war of aggression, even when his daughter pleaded for him to understand. We look at that and call it a mistake, but then we turn around and carry on his legacy of hatred right back into Horde territory....
... We stand to gain nothing from this war, but to lose everything. The legion waits just beyond the Dark Portal, and they are a formidible force. All Kil'Jaeden has to do is lift his finger, and any world he wants would be his. Somehow we're different, somehow we're stronger, but that doesn't make us immune, nor does it make the task of rooting them out any easier. If we are going to defeat them, then we have little choice but to join forces with the Horde, just as we did at Mount Hyjal."



((Aleria's politics pretty much emulate those of Henry David Thoreau, just without the "I'm not paying my taxes to fund the Mexican War" theatrics. Most of her ideology I drew from my own personal politics, and Thoreau's "A Resistance to Civil Government" in which he gave his firm assertion: "The Government that governs best, governs least.", and voiced his opinion against the Mexican-American war, which he believed was a war for land. In that respect, Aleria can best be descibed as a Whig.))

((Revised Edition))((Revised 08/16/07))

A word on Erevar.
Written by Ixe Shortspanner.

((When reading this post, remember that the author is Aleria's assistant, a Gnome. He has had more than one run in with Erevar in the past, and he probably hates Erevar more than Halide does. Ixe will add his own special brand of commentary throughout this chapter.))

A lot needs to be said about Aleria's pet cat, Erevar, who has become a major aspect (if not an annoying one) of her life. This "gem" of a cat came into Aleria's life when she first moved up to Dolanaar, after the third war. She found him in the woods, and he wouldn't stay away. (She still tells me that she's not sure why.) Over time, Aleria became very attached to Erevar, eventually resulting in the loving relationship they share today. (And the living nightmare of everyone around them!)

Erevar is a medium sized nightsaber, with predominantly black fur (and a predominantly black heart) with white stripes. (To fool the simpletons) Erevar is confident, (or cocky) caring, (exclusively for his mistress) and he enjoys a good joke or two. (Actually about twently, usually directed at me.) He is well known for his intellegence, (or lack thereof) and his tenacity. (which comes in handy when the gnome he is trying to use for a chew toy doesn't want to go along with it.) Erevar has been known to vanish, (usually to steal things) drag things around, by pulling them by a rope with his mouth, (Of course, he's more than happy to take a break to harass me.) and to sleep for long periods of time. (But of course, it's never fun when he wakes up.) He also protects Aleria feircely, and will stop at nothing to ensure her safety, even if that means death. (Which hopefully will come soon.)

(A word from the Author: Ok, I think you can probably tell, I HATE that cat. But you would too if you've been through what I've been through! That light forsaken cat is also very fond of using me as his personal play thing whenever no one is looking! He messes up what I'm doing, he chases me around, and he uses me as a chew toy! But, after he came back with a good amount of injuries, he hasn't been able to make my life miserable!! Hopefully, his injuries will become permanent, or he will die. Either way it will make our lives much easier.)

In [Aleria's] words.
"I'm don't know what I would do without Erevar. He has become a part of me, a part that is inseperable from the whole, my other half. Without him I don't think I'd be able to go on. I have known him for about four years now, and he has been a caring and noble friend to me. He has cared for me, protected me, and made my life more enjoyable, in a way that no other pet of mine has ever done. He has made an enormous difference in my life, and I thank him for that."

((Unfortunately, the section on Erevar is a bit vague, and incomplete. Due to recent events, Erevar's story is going to start to spin out of control, which is going to result in the release of another one of Aleria's big secrets. (unless you pick up the hints I've been dropping and figure it out, in which case, if you guess, I will deny it. ) Once everything is finally settled, I will expand on this section of the character history.))

((Revised Edition))((Revised 08/20/07))

Opinons of the Alliance
Written by Ixe Shortspanner.

Being a delegate to the House of Commons, and now a Field Marshal to the Alliance, Aleria has done a lot of good for the Alliance. That doesn't necessarily mean, however that she is content with all that they are doing. Case in point, the war with the Horde. On that note, the same goes for the individual races, however, she heavily favors some governments, while shunning others. This chapter goes over her overall opinions of these governments.

Stormwind.
As a Delegate the House of Commons, Aleria does a lot of work in Stormwind, and has gotten to know the city inside out. She would love to live there, and not just because of the distance to her job. She has more than once described Stormwind as one of the most incredible achievements of the human race. (Unlike most Night Elves, Aleria adores the city.)

Although she is involved with Stormwind's government, she is not too happy about thier policies.

In her own words.
"The Human race has seen the most inspiring leaders and visionaries that have ever existed, but unfortunately, this is not the case today. Human leaders in Government seem to have forgotten the lessons paid for by the blood and sacrifice of thousands of Alliance soldiers, who have paid for Stormwind's sovereignty by the edge of thier sword. We continue to ignore the constant threat posed by the Defias and other criminal groups, while we continue to wage an aggresive war against the Horde. We oppressively tax our citizens, and impose harsh laws on property ownership, and what an owner can do with that property, while the nobles here continually break the very laws they set down. Make no mistake, I am a friend of the human race, but there comes a point where we all must look at ourselves and ask ourselves if we are doing the right thing."


Ironforge.
Aleria has a favorable opinion of Ironforge, but aside from lax frontier laws, there is notable about Aleria's opinion of Ironforge.

Darnassus.
It would be an understatement to say that Aleria is ashamed of her culture. In fact, she downright hates it. With almost every ideological value they have, Aleria holds the opposite opinion. She doesn't even believe in Elune, but instead, the light. She does not reguard any territory under the control of Darnassus as her homeland, and she does not address other Night Elves as siblings. She is even beginning to forget how to speak Darnassian. (Slowly of course, as instances where she needs to use Darnassian still rear their head from time to time.) One aspect of Darnassian culture that she is most disgusted with is the fact that Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm is running things. She believes him to be imperialistic, and arrogant. Usually when called to defend this, she points to his attack on the Warsong Lumber camps, and the breaking of ties between Darnassus and Thunder Bluff.

The Exodar.
Aleria admires the Draenei in many ways, and believes that they will eventually become the standard bearers of all that the Alliance stands for, including thier undying devotion to the light, and thier committment to destroy the Burning Legion. She sees the Naaru that resides in thier city as a symbol of thier attunement with the light, and with justice. She looks to them to lead the Alliance to a better future.

((Revised Edition))((Revised 08/21/07))

Aleria's House in Dun Morogh.
Written by Ixe Shortspanner.

On the road between Kharnos and Anvilmar, there is a side road which leads to a tunnel, which stood abandoned for many years. Now graced by footsteps once again, the tunnel leads up to a mostly flat area, which sharply grades upward tot he peak of the mountain, on the other side guarded by wooden railings that would hopefully prevent a careless visitor from experiencing the sheer drop off of the mountain. Nestled near the corner of where the land takes a sharp turn toward the sky, there stands a structure of curious archetecture. It seems to be a mix between an Ironforge bunker, and an observation tower. Truth its, it's a little bit of both. The structure you see before you was formerly an Ironforge bunker, until the Bronzebeards found little use for it. Up until recently, it was abandoned. Miss Fadeleaf recently bought up the bunker, and had a crew renovate it, now it looks like it does now. The structure is essentially the same, with a few exceptions. There is now a backdoor, which leads to a small yard right next to the face of the peak. There are windows where there were firing holes (Second), and there is now a small observation tower, in the style of the tower of Azora. (only it's much smaller.) It sort of makes the structure look like an upside down spinning top. There will usually be a Paladin or two, inspecting, or gaurding the premesis. He will usually ask a conspicious amount of questions, and grudgingly allow you into the house.

Walking through the front door, the first thing you usually notice is the grand staircase, unchanged since it was a bunker. It still goes upward, and then swings to each side. Although there is a cieling over your head, where in the bunker there would not be, just a hole. To the left, there is a small sitting room, where a couple of chairs have been arranged around the table. The fireplace is also there, inset into the backwall. On the wall of the staircase, there is a small room, though I have never seen for myself what is in there. On the right side of the staircase, the room is divided in half. The half immediate to the door is where Aleria normally keeps Erevar. There is a bed of hay, surrounded by several balls, plates, and other "necessities" that he may need. (I take great care to avoid this area.) The other half, which has been made in an extended area, which makes the right side room look like a half-moon, is a small kitchen, and at the back of the room is the backdoor. Inset into the wall of the staircase is a small door, which leads down to the two basement levels. The first of which is the guest room. (Which I believe will be RARELY used.). The second is Aleria's personal library, where she keeps all of her books stored. The bookcases hug the walls, making an almost complete circle, if the stairs weren't there. In the middle, there are tens of thousands of reports, documents, and miscellaneous papers that Aleria keeps there. Most of it either partially, or wholly incomplete, or used for research purposes.

Going up the main staircase, and reaching the junction, it's important to know where you're going. The right staircase leads up to Aleria's bedroom, which takes up most of the second floor. To date, only Aleria, and a few Paladin inspectors have been in there. (the paladins not without stiff resistance, however.) The left staircase, which is walled off on the second floor, goes up the tower to Aleria's office. Most of the time you will find her, usually working on some project, or some stack of paperwork. Aleria's desk sits in the northernmost part of the room, directly opposite from there the staircase leads the visitor. The walls are adorned with various pictures, and important documents that Aleria sought fit to post up there. Aside from that, the room largely empty, with the exception of the three chairs, one being Aleria's and the other two, on the other side of the desk, for any visitors. (These chairs often do nothing more than collect dust.) When looking out of one of the windows in this top floor, you can get a magnificent view of the territory below. Kharnos is clearly visible, as is Gnomeregan, and if you look far enough to the east, you can faintly see the gates of Ironforge, poking out from the side of its mountain.

((Revised Editon))((Revised 08/23/07))

((I've put both recent events posts in one post to consolidate the whole thing, there will be a bit of commentary at the end of the first one.))

Recent Events, trip to Bloodmyst, the Banshee attack.

Two weeks ago, I finally set foot in Draenei lands, Azuremyst, and eventually Bloodmyst isles. Arriving on the island of Azuremyst, I at first had enjoyed the climate, a bit foggy, and far more temperate than Tanaris or Stranglethorn, even more temperate than Elwynn Forest or Teldrassil. Nevertheless, it seemed a nice place, but then I moved farther inland.

What I thought was a beatiful and convenient place for a homeland soon turned into an environmental catastrophe. I had attempted to approach what looked like a docile nightsaber, but when it lashed out at me with almost rabid fury, I pulled back, and was forced to kill the beast. In Teldrassil, some nightsabers are known to be aggressive, but only in response to a definite threat. This one seemed strangely corrupted, and rabid. As I continued, more of the disaster became apparent, as I passed through Azure Watch, crossed a river, and found out what I could do to help at a crash site. Here I though I had seen the worst, rabbits turned into vile mutations, owlkin corrupted far worse than the ones in Darkshore, or anywhere else for that matter, and a lake, which to my horror I found was irradiated. In the back of my mind, I felt feelings of rage, and hatred toward the Draenei, but I rememebered this wasn't their fault, it was a mistake, and they were doing the best they could to correct the problem. One of the incredible feats I discovered in Azuremyst was peaceful cooperation with an uncorrupted Furbolg tribe, one of the last on Azeroth. I had unlocked the mysteries of their ancient language, and helped them in a brutal war against a corrupted tribe of Furbolgs. Hopefully, this knowledge and diplomacy will serve me later on.

What I had seen in Azuremyst was absolutely nothing compared with the horrors of Bloodmyst Isle. When I first arrived, it looked like another Azuremyst isle, but I then caught a glimpse of two red crystals jutting toward the sky, and red horizon, cascading over the blood red land which awaited me. The rivers ran red as I trod upon the contaminated earth, almost feeling it's corruption creep up my legs. I looked around at the carnage of spaceship parts, and irradiated red crystals, and I then saw the blood elves, the demons, and the corrupted wildlife, which seemed to almost revel in the contaminated land, almost as if they had enjoyed it. I recalled my experiences in the sentinel army in Felwood while under Illidain's command, and found Bloodmyst eerily familiar to what I had seen. Could this be another legion stronghold like Felwood? The question constantly entered my mind during the two seemingly endless days I spent in that cursed land.



I then returned to the Eastern Kingdoms a week later, feeling fulfilled, with a deeper understanding of the Draenei race. On the offensive once more, after a slump of inaction, I decided to take action against the Alterac ogres in the ruins of Alterac. I had killed many, and I suspect I was close to finding a certain book, which had eluded me for months. But then, I felt throbbing pain in the head, which felt like I had just been hit by a massive hammer, then another, and soon I collapsed into the snow, and fell through the earth into a great furnace, where I fought a terrible adversary within my own mind, as my body moved on, out of my control. As I stood on a mountaintop of fire, I looked around and saw nothing, but I heard an ominous voice call out from the distance, the contorted voice of an elf, then I began to feel piercing blows, but this was not just in my head, this was physical. At first, I could not see my enemy, as it assaulted my mental being. It was invisible, a wraith, which continued to attack me. I felt blow after blow, and still I could not see, or hit my opponent. In desperation, I prayed to Elune, hoping her divine influence would save me, but no such force came. And as I continued to be hammered by my invisible opponent, I prayed again, this time to the Holy Light. As I felt another blow beginning to penetrate, a flash of light came down and revealed my opponent to me. It was a banshee, a contorted Blood Elf who fell to the scourge long ago. Suddenly a beam of light came down, as a shining white figure with a mighty hammer descended from the heavens, and began to attack the Banshee. As I scrambled to my feet, I reached for my dagger, still there, even in my spiritual form, and plunged it into the neck of my enemy, and I watched as it twisted, and writhed, and then in one final moment, looked vengefully at me, and lunged at my body. I soon fell unconscious.

I then found myself waking up, in the snows of Alterac, feeling drained, and corrupted, but as I awoke it began to drift away. After dusting off the snow, I rode swiftly to Southshore, to return to Stormwind by nightfall. When I finally did arrive in Stormwind, I was greeted only by ill news, wrapped up and packaged within an Alliance official armed forces envelope.

“Aleria..

This past weekend, your sister, Aela Fadeleaf was deployed to the Outland to combat the legion. Shortly after her deployment, she was listed as missing in action. Her last known whereabouts were at the stronghold of Honor Hold, which she left two days ago, on the road to Broken Hill. You have our deepest condolences.
-Sincerely
The Alliance Military.”

As I read the final words, the voice of the Banshee again entered my head:

“You will not be the laasst, my defeat means nothiiinnggg.”

Choking back my tears, I crumpled the letter of condolence, and made a solemn vow to fight them until I could no longer draw breath, as I collapsed to the ground, and began to weep.

What happened after:
Ixe Shortspanner.

Since the banshee attack, we learned that Aleria had an addiction to magic, we also learned that this banshee had remained in her body, and had been agitating it. Thankfully, the Banshee was recently destroyed.

More Recent Events: Return to Felwood, and the trip to Eversong.

This past week, I returned to my home before the third war, Felwood, to find it completely descecrated, unrecognizable, even from my experiences of the Third War. Riding into Felwood, I first stumbled upon the Emerald Sanctuary, where many druids have come to try to heal the land of its curse, but by the looks of things, nothing they had been doing was doing much good. Infected and corrupted animals scour the lands, with large sections of thier skin missing which refuse to heal, corrupted plants continue to die, slimes and oozes cover every corrupted water source, Satyrs and other agents of corruption wander the land, seemingly unchecked, and the largest furbolg tribe in the region, the Deadwood, ravage the land on thier own. Many of these furbolgs were once my friends, but now I found myself having to slaughter them in the name of justice for the Timbermaw tribe, which, though uncorrupted, still views all sentient beings as dangerous outsiders, which must be watched very closely, or even slain on the spot. Five years ago, they welcomed Night Elves as if they were their own kind, now each visitor, regaurdless of previous friendships or parnerships, is an enemy. However thier true enemies are elsewhere, continuing to destroy everything I used to know. While in Felwood, I visited the old site of my father's estate, only to find it gone, and replaced by a Satyr Encampment known as Jadefire Run. I visited the old town of Jadenaar, once a grand town in it's own right, destroyed and inhabited by the Shadow Council, who have turned the extensive barrow dens into thier new headquarters. Finally, I found Irontree woods, which were once tended to by benevolent treants. These same treants kill any visitors on sight, even attacking the spirits of ancients.

I also paid a visit to Horde territory, the secluded reaches of Quel'thalas, the land of the Sin'dorei. (This time I brought my Super Snapper FX!) Entering through the Plaugelands, I first passed through the Ghostlands, a land almost as destroyed as Bloodmyst Isle. The first thing I spotted was the first shattered Elfgate, accompanied by the scourge flag, indicating thier resounding victory in the third war.

After the Elfgate, I strayed off the road to explore the wilds of the Ghostland, and was met with a disturbing sight, the walled scourge stronghold of Deatholme.

As I proceeded through the Ghostlands, I began to realize to just what extent have the Blood Elves suffered at the hands of the marauding scourge, the most apparent was a wide swath of destruction which Arthas's forces used as a road to coordinate thier attack route. Now it is known as the Dead Scar. Aside from that, there are many traces of the scourge, destroyed Blood Elf buildings, tainted land, and a destroyed village, inhabited by the spirits of its former populace. One heartening sight was a small island with lighthouses, similar to the one outside of Auberdine. Upon closer inspection, it was the original landing site of a night elf expeditionary force. To my horror I've discovered that they were assigned to act as sabeteurs, and eventually, invaders.

One seemingly out of place sight in the Ghostlands was an enormous troll city. The forest trolls, however would not permit me to explore it, and I didn't have the time to explore it without a tour guide. So I left it for the time being.


All this time I was traversing through the Ghostlands, seeing the environmental disaster, I assumed that Eversong Forest must look similar, considering the fact that the Horde had hit there hardest, however, my assumption couldn't be farther from the truth. In complete contrast to the foul ghostlands, the sunkissed forest of Eversong is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

I made it a point to see the great city of Silvermoon, which was one of the major goals of my excursion. Of course, I could not see the city from the inside, as the statuelike guards probably would have pursued me until I lay dead, however, the gardens outside were striking pieces of landscaping, which you really have to admire them for. While strolling through the gardens, thinking I was alone, I did run into a Blood Elf who had been stalking me for a while. As I spoke in Darnassian, while he spoke in Thalassian, and the both of us using a lot of hand signals, he agreed to take my picture on my Super Snapper. It heartened me to see some evidence of cooperation between me and him as I sat down for the photograph.



(Note: This Photograph was taken while Tek had my boots.)

Unfortunately, my newfound friend could not get me into the city inside, so we each went on our seperate ways, and I continued to explore Eversong. As I continued to travel through Eversong, however, more of it's secrets became apparent. Continuing on its path to Silvermoon City was the dead scar, going directly to a shattered section of the Silvermoon city walls.

I had also stumbled upon a Blood Elf port, where all the ships were sunk. except for one. this of course puzzled me, because the Blood Elves were once renowned for thier fleet. I had soon found out why these ships were sunken. As I walked along the wharf I spotted a Blood Elf, but this one's skin was greyish, he had blue, round, glowing, crystalline structures coming out of his back. He also had a hunch similar to that exhibited by the Forsaken. I kept my distance, and watched in horror as he slaughtered one of his own kind, then sucked magical energy out of its kill. As this happened, two blood elf guards rushed up and killed him, as well as several others like him, which had gathered to get thier own share of the kill. As the guards walked away, they muttered a specific word, which I had never heard them say before. Later I found that this was a specific reference to that strain of Blood Elf, however I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the reference was. My research has centered around Wraith, Wretched, and Wrench.


Although the main portion of Silvermoon city is currently guarded, one section of the city is almost wide open, near a small town which the Sin'Dorei have made out of a portion of the city called Falconwing Square. Going out from the city is Dawning Lane, the only safe route out of the city towards Sunstrider Isle, flanked on each side by arcane robots, and that magically cannibalistic variant of blood elf. I had gone down Dawning Lane, and onto Sunstrider Isle, when I discovered an arcane academy, which had been taken over by mana wraiths, commanded by one of those wicked Blood Elves, who I had found at the port and near Dawning Lane. Amoung the belongings of one of his wraiths, I discovered a tainted arcane sliver, which I now carry with me in my pouch, hoping to unlock its secrets during my travels.

As I descended from the academy, I had noticed that several blood elves were now alerting the Silvermoon guards of my presence, so I quickly took the hint that I was not welcome, and left Eversong Forest. Hopefully in the near future, I will travel there not as an enemy, but an ally in a time where the Alliance and the Horde have put aside thier petty squabbles to fight the true enemies of this world.

((Revised 08/28/07))

REVISION COMPLETE!
Thank you for your cooperation during this revision period. Hopefully, it will now be easier, and more pleasurable to read, and don't worry, I plan on expanding it as time goes on, and revising as necessary. Again, thank you for your cooperation and understanding during this time.

((Ok, I'm taking a break from revision for right now. (It hasn't been going as smoothly as I would have hoped..) Right now, I'm getting into the revalation of Aleria's next big secret, which I hope to unveil either this weekend, or the next. Keep in mind, this breaks away from the half autobiography format which has characterized my revisions so far.))

"The night continues to engulf the frozen lands of Dun Morogh. From the mountains, the view is spectacular. Of course, Miss Fadeleaf cares little for it, instead she continues to waste her time, filling out paperwork, and moaping about her mangy furball, who probably..."

"Ixe, what is wrong with you tonight?"

The gnome turns around, looking at some of the many posted documents which now cover the walls of the observatory tower, turned office, which juts skyward from an Ironforge bunker turned home. He then looks to the owner, giving the gnome an accusatory look from her desk.

"Oh, nothing at all Miss Fadeleaf, I just wonder if you take your work too seriously."

Aleria shakes her head, and returns to her paperwork.

"I am going to leave, Miss Fadeleaf, before I fall asleep."

Aleria halfheartedly nods, her eyes constantly transfixed on her stack of documents.

Ixe, the Gnome, makes his way to the spiral staircase, looking pitifully at Aleria. He stands and takes a better at his employer.

"I can't stand to see you like this, Miss Fadeleaf, why don't you just let it go, it is after all, just a cat, it does you no good. If it's in misery, then just put it down. I think you'd agree it's the right thing to do."

Aleria stops abruptly, and sets her pen down at the table. She turns her full attention to Ixe. Looking at her face, it's obvious that recent events have taken thier toll. As usual, her eyes are bloodshot, due to the lack of sleep, and the intrusive thoughts of the unthinkable.

"Why would you say something like that, I don't understand why you hate him so much."

"Miss Fadeleaf, take a look at yourself, you've been up each and every night, not getting any sleep, you've hardly been eating, and you sit silent at every session you go to. Do you not think that it's time, for your own sake to move on?"

"How can you say that, Ixe? He's not even dead yet, I'm not just going to give up hope on him!"

"I can put him out of his misery if you want me to! Just say the words! It's completely painless, I assure you!"

"NO! You're horrid, Ixe! Absolutely horrid! To even suggest it!"

Aleria seems on the verge of tears, while the Gnome has backed himself into the wall. He starts to walk hurredly down the stairs. Aleria resumes her paperwork. A few minutes later, there is a loud crash, coming from downstairs.

"IXE!!"

Aleria rushes downstairs, to find the now terrified Gnome, standing three feet from his salvation.

"What did you do, Ixe! What was that!"

"I..I..It was n-nothing, I swear!"

Aleria looks over to a small pile of hey in the corner, which is unusually empty. Though there seems to be a trail of hey, and at least some blood headed to the backdoor.

"You're lying! Where's Erevar!? What did you do with him!?"

"Ixe didn't do it! Ixe didn't do it!"

"Am I to assume that he just moved on his own! His leg is still healing, there's no way he could have, or would have gone outside in this condition!"

"Please Miss Fadleaf, spare mee! Ixe didn't do it! Ixe didn't do it!"

The Gnome covers on the floor, looking up in terror that the enraged Night Elf standing before him.

"Maybe I need to put YOU out of YOUR misery!"

"NO!! Not Ixe! Ixe didn't do it!"

Suddenly another crash is heard, though not in the house, but from outside. Immediately after, Ixe starts wailing again.

"It was Arrokka! It was Arrokka! Arrokka in grey robes! Ixe didn't do it! Don't kill me!"

Calming down, Aleria moves to the door, and picks up one of the torches that grace the house's enterance.

"It can't be an Arrokka, Arrokka don't live here, Ixe, what exactly did you see."

Ixe, picking up Aleria's rifle cautiously follows her.

"I swear, it was an Arrokka! I know Arrokka when I see them!"

"It couldn't have been, you were imagining things."

"Did you imagine that sound, Miss Fadeleaf?"

Aleria looks back at Ixe, who raises a brow. She then turns back ahead, to go around the house to the backdoor, with Ixe closely following.

"No, I didn't, still, perhaps you mistook it for something else, I know troggs sometimes come up here."

"No! It wasn't a trogg! It was an Arrokka! Too big to be a trogg!"

"Probably another damned Paladin.."

Aleria takes a look back at Ixe, whose eyes have widened in a look of paranoia. He obviously has an itching trigger finger.

"Ixe, perhaps I should take that."

Suddenly, Ixe starts to scream wildly, clutching the gun as if it were his best friend.

"ARROKKA! ARROKKA!"

Aleria's gaze darts in front of her, there is a blue light, slightly wavering in the night air. A figure can be made out, but it's face cannot be seen. Ixe fires wildly, sending a bullet flying toward the north, over the cliff. The blue light dissapears behind the house as Ixe straightens up the gun to fire again. After the bullet ricochets off the mountain wall that goes up to the peak, Aleria runs around the corner, daggers drawn to find nothing.

"That's odd, I could've..."

"I told you, Miss Fadeleaf! I didn't do it! You blamed me anyway!"

"Be quiet! It could still be here!"

Aleria quickly moves to the backdoor, taking great care to lock it after Ixe comes in. She then rushes to the front door, to lock it. As she turns, she sees Erevar, heavily limping from the left side of the stairway, the side she never bothered to check while accusing Ixe of murder. Erevar pauses, confusedly looking at the snow covered Night Elf and Gnome that stand before him.

"See! I did nothing! There's your cat!"

Erevar resumes his original course, heavily limping, trying to stay off of his right back leg, moving at a snail's pace. Aleria watches the cat move to its makeshift bed, then looks back at Ixe.

"Ok fine, I was wrong, I'm sorry. You can go home now."

Ixe gives a look of absolute horror.

"With Arrokka out there!? Not me, not Ixe! I'm staying here!"

"Ixe! Go! Arrokka do not live in Dun Morogh! They don't even live in Azeroth! Where did you learn about Arrokka anyhow? You've never seen Draenor."

"I've read some of your books... every so often. I promise to return them!"

"Next time Ixe, please ask me... Just go, I've had enough of you tonight."

"But Miss Fadeleaf, there are..."

"GO!"

Aleria storms up the stairs up to her bedroom. The Gnome wrenches back, contemplating which threat is more dangerous. He slowly turns toward the door.

"I hope you're happy when they drag me to thier nest!!"

There is no reply. After several minutes of waiting for one, Ixe clutches himself, and goes outside. Whispering panicked reassurances to himself.

"I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine I'll be fine..."

Irrevestrius Ashlake.
Dear Reader:

If you are reading this now, then you should already know who I am. My name is Irrevestrius Ashlake, though you would know me as Erevar. First off allow me to apologize for my deception, but understand that it has become necessary, as the events of my life have made it so. Also understand that it was not by my own will that I was discovered, and I had the full intention of never letting you know who I was behind my mask. I suppose you could say that over the years I have adopted the tactics of a rouge, but I get ahead of myself. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

I was born next the the illustrious estate of the Fadeleaves. Despite my common birth, I befriended Vellidain the Second, Aleria's Great Grandfather. We spent many years in the mountains of Felwood, and became the best of friends. Unfortunately, our paths were destined to part. He has his life laid out for him, I had yet to find my path. But somehow, it found me.

I don't know why I was selected to be a druid, it seemed to just happen. I had never felt a connection with nature before, but now it seemed to be drawn to me, it was as if I had found a part of myself that had been missing for many years. I chose to specalize in several different catforms, much to the dismay of my peers, who claimed that I was narrowing my prowess. Knowing what I know now, maybe I would have taken thier advice. Instead, while they were learning different animal forms, and other ways to use the powers of nature to thier advantage, I specialized in my own field of knowledge, getting to the point where I could effectively conceal my telltale markings, and truly immerse with the wilds.

When the war of the Ancients came, I was charged with defending parts of Darkshore. Aside from a few skirmishes, my involvement was relatively slight. The war seemed to come and go for me, as just another part of my life. However it did give me a sense of purpose, as I remained in Darkshore, and continued to consider myself as one of its protectors long after the war was over. I married a druid of the claw by the name of Nyo're, and I lived happily in Auberdine for many years. Until the day a friend and colleage of mine told me that he had found something concerning the rumors of Satyr incoursions into Darkshore, but he would not release it to me, unless I had agreed to meet him, late at night at an abandoned two story house on the hill. So I agreed, and I kept my word, arriving at the house right on cue, foolishly, I even brought my wife with me. I entered the shell of what was once a home, and slowly made my way up to the second floor. The roof of this house was known for a gaping hole, which, on cloudless nights put a circle of moonlight on the second floor. In the middle of this circle sat a bloodstained dagger that night, which looked as if it was just discarded. The rest of the room was pitch black, however. Before my better judgement could stop me, I picked up the dagger, inspecting it in the moonlight, and as I did so, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. It was a small contigent of sentinels, who had also been called to this location. The lead sentinel's torch illuminated the dark room, revealing behind me, as I stood to face them, two freshly killed citizens of Auberdine. I had been framed, and forced to kill the sentinels, who now stood ready to block my escape. All but one, who managed to escape to tell of the details of my horrendous crime. So I went into hiding.

My flight from Auberdine eventually lead me back to my home, back to my old friend, Vellidain the Second. He had since had a son, who died before having a son of his own. The second patriarch of the Fadeleaves was determined not to lose any more members of his declining family. To earn our keep my wife and I were to watch over his grandson's two daughters, to protect them from harm at any cost, but to retain our identities. They were never to know who we were. We worked for Vellidain's company, adopting assumed names, while following our orders, and hiding from the Sentinel Army. I was assigned to protect Aleria, my wife was to protect her sister. We remained fiercely loyal to our duty, even following them in secret off to war, doing whatever was necessary to keep them alive. My wife and I would part during the third war, and I never saw or heard from her again.

I adopted my persona as a nightsaber only recently, about four years ago at the end of the third war. When Aleria moved to Dolaanar, it became impossible to continue to keep an eye on her in my elven form, so I kept a close and wary eye as what you now see as Erevar. I admit that passing off as a pet was bitter to swallow, but I don't forsake committments to old friends easily. So I have remained anonymous, resigning myself to a nightsaber, unbeknownst to the outside world, only up until recently, when my identity was compromised. Now you know, and must never tell, or our relationship will be a short one indeed. The memories of arrest warrants are long, and the Sentinel army would be all to happy to avenge the crimes I have committed against them. This is why to the rest of the world, I continue to remain invisible.

-Irrevestrius Ashlake, Erevar.

Aleria's Speech to the House of Commons.

As many of you are aware, my service in the Alliance Military has ended. Since it began, I have killed or injured hundreds of horde warriors, and I have more than once seen what it's like to crawl back to life, after I was sure death had taken me. Today I come dressed in the regalia of a field marshal, my acquired rank to remind you of this. Before I left for war, you probably knew me as the naive advocate of peace with the horde. Since I returned, I suppose not much has changed, only now I have seen what it's like to be thrown into the meat grinder, without the expectation of return. However, unlike many of you believed, I did return, and here I am speaking to you now, about the thousands that don't return, and die in vain for a false cause. I have three insignias, that I brought with me today. Their owners' next of kin could not be found, or were dead, and somehow they were given to me. Perhaps it was the long nights we spent sitting in the tavern, or the cold miserable days on the battlefield. For one reason or another, they are here now.

This one belonged to a druid, whose name I will not release for reasons of dignity. She fought with me on the front lines in Ashenvale forest. To expunge the Warsong clan from the forests there. She was one of the most committed soldiers I have ever seen, and a good friend at that. But then one day, she didn't come back from battle. Two days later, we found her body pinned to the ground by a spear. This is her insignia, it would have gone to her family, but like mine, they died in the third war at the hands of the Burning Legion.

This next one was owned by a Gnome, who served in the Arathi Basin. He was convinced that his many mechanincal inventions would be all that was necessary to take back the Basin. As he redied his death ray, an arrow went through his skull, blowing away what could easily have been the most brilliant mind on the battlefield. This gnome could have gone on to invent a way to take back Gnomeregan, but instead he died right there in that basin. In the end, I was given his insignia as well, but as it turns out, Gnomeregan is no longer a mailable address.

Finally, I have the insignia of a Paladin of the Silver Hand. He faught in Alterac Valley, taking the land that "rightfully belongs" to the Stormpike. He was a survivor of the Third War, and a dedicated soldier in the ranks of the Silver Hand. He was reluctant to pull his focus from the Scourge, but orders don't negociate, nor do they care about anything but themselves. As he faught several Frostwolf Gaurdians near the Iceblood Garrison, a catapult took aim on his position, and from the flaming inferno, flew his insignia, which I hold now. We tried to return the insignia to his family, but they don't take kindly to visitors anymore, their new master isn't the most forgiving man in the world.

Magnify this by each and every corpse laid in our graveyards, burned to save space, or "misplaced" under the stresses of war, and you start to get a picture of what these battlefields are, factories of death. And for what? A hate driven war faught for atrocities that were settled years ago, conditions that no longer apply, and for the lost lives of figures who would weep to see how we have betrayed everything they once stood for. Each and every life that is sacrificed upon the altar of this war is lost in vain. As ominious forces who seek our destruction begin to plot, waiting for thier chance to strike. Thier opportunity is forthcoming, and it speeds to bring about our destruction, following in the wake of our soldiers that now march against the Horde. I implore you, to stop this harbinger of our own destruction. Banish it back to the pit it sprung from, bring our soldiers home, and stop this needless waste of life. The time has come to reform the Alliance we made so long ago on the slopes of Mount Hyjal. The Alliance that is responsible for this world's existence. The time has come to stop punishing Lordaeron's citizenry for the actions of another, a monster who lives at the roof of the world, also planning our demise. And the time has come to embrace our former allies, and aid them in their struggle, rather than kill them because of it. And in our new allegiance, we will, together, carry on the fight against those who would bring about our destruction. It was not long ago that humans faught alongside orcs, rather than against them, to fight the spectre of doom who will return to finish the job. I see no reason why we can't do it again, for the sake of every being that calls Azeroth its home. Please, turn away from this impending disaster, and take the path to peace with the Horde. Then watch as we make safe the world we live in.

((Added 08/30/07))

"I see no conclusive evidence against this man, a bloodstained dress? alleged marks? the heresay of political enemies? You cannot prove that this man did what you are all accusing him of." The judge raises his gavel, as a crowd of nobles and other political figures look on in almost disbelief, they had saw the crimes firsthand. Sitting in front of them at a small table, looking in approval at the judge sits the accused.

"Are we not credible enough for you your honor!?"
"I suppose all of that just happened on it's own, did it!?"
"What of the dead gaurds!? How do you suppose they died, your honor!?"
"Why have most of his political enemies been dissapearing withing the past three months!?"
"He did not ask for proof, he just did what he did!"
"How many more are going to dissapear before you do something!?"
"Hey, what's the going rate for kidnapping, torture, and attempted murder, your honor!?"
"Aye, how much did he pay ye to call 'im innocent!?"

The judge pauses, holding his gavel in the air, staring in astonshment at the accused's accusers, of them, all but a few are hurling questions at him, getting more outrageous by the second. Amoung them sits a night elf, dressed in a dark blue traveller's robe, her face is mostly shadowed by a hood. As the crowd of nobles continues to drill the judge, she silently walks out, giving one last glance to the judge, who is finding it odd that the primary accuser is walking out before a verdict is given. An eerie sensation shoots up the judges spine as the barely glowing eyes make contact with his. Something isn't right, but before he can figure out what, the night elf takes her eyes off of him, and slips out the door. The judge looks at the door for a few seconds, before turning his attention to the remaining accusers.

"SILENCE!" The judge's gavel furiously pounds against the podium, as he tries to silence the angry politicians. "This is my court, and you will not turn it into a mockery!" The accusers quiet down, giving enough time for the judge to deliver his verdict. "Due to the lack of evidence, I hereby rule this man, Lord Gregor Lescovar, innocent of all charges!"
The chamber erupts in anger, as the "innocent" noble smiles, and strides out. The judge quickly evacuates to his quarters behind the podium, locking the door behind him, as the yelling outside get's louder. He rests back in his chair, glancing at a bag of gold coins which sits under his desk. Was it all worth it? Before he can contemplate the idea of the bribe, the yelling suddenly cedes to cries of terror outside, prompting the judge to see what the matter is. He rushes out of the courthouse, enountering the night elf, leaning against one of the stone supports around the door. The judge stops a moment to question her. "What happened here!?"

The elf says nothing, instead, she slowly raises her arm up, and points to where Lord Lescovar lies face down on the pavement stones, surrounded by dozens of citizens, gaurds, policial figures, and miscellaneous bystanders. The judge rushes to him, finding a crossbow bolt lodged into his back. The judge looks back to the night elf, then to Lescovar, then notices the captain of the guard, tapping him on the shoulder. "Your honor, we found this in the second floor of the abandoned building to your left." The captain of the gaurd hands the judge a small crossbow. "We have yet to find who did this, they left no trace." The judge points to the night elf, who is still standing in the same spot. "Did she have anything to do with it?" "No sir, she was standing there when it happened."

Noticing the judge's finger pointing, Aleria removes her hood, and leaves the stone support behind. She walks toward the judge, her expression still emotionless. "Was there something you needed, sir?" The judge stammers, looking angry. "What did you do!?" "I did nothing, your honor, he simply collapsed, there was no noise, we didn't even see where it was coming from until it hit him." The captain of the guard interrupts. "She's right, it all happened so suddenly." The judge diverts his attention to the captain, then to Lescovar, then back to the captain. "Is he dead?" Aleria answers the question instead. "Not likely, I've suffered worse hits than that and come out of it, I'm sure he will too, now if you'll excuse me, I will probably have to fill out a few reports on this matter before the day is out, would you like a copy of one of them for your records, your honor?" The judge flinches a bit, still feeling the eerie sensations shooting up his spine as he looks into Aleria's dimmed eyes. "Very well, I want it on my desk tomorrow morning." Aleria nods, and quietly walks in the direction of the keep. The judge can't take his eyes off of her as she walks away. "Too quiet, too calm... it's suspicious." The captain replies. "I agree, but there is not enough evidence to link her to this, besides, she was standing there as it happened, it couldn't have been her." The judge watches Aleria dissapear from sight, as he remembers what he said only a few minutes ago. "No, I guess it couldn't have been... not enough evidence..."

((Added 09/11/07))

*This letter, looking battered and torn, was found slipped under the doors that lead to the guildhall.*

There are those who are experts of deception, who will convince their victims that they are someone they are not, until it no longer useful. Like the assassin, they can conceal themselves at will. But instead of assuming the surrounding landscape, the expert assumes the skin of someone else. The double, the impostor, the spy, these are all experts in this field.

I believe that your friend, Irrevestrius is one such expert, a person who will lie his way into a persona until he himself is convinced that he is what he is pretending to be. His lies persist until they become true in his mind, and in everyone else’s. But the fact remains that the skin that he has put on is not his, the elf he thinks he is, is not truly him. Like a captured animal that refuses to remain a prisoner, this fact scratches at its cage, until it finds a way out. Irrevestrius was never a true druid, though in a way to escape his past, he has accepted himself as such. This regrettable past however, resides in the back of his mind, it sometimes slips out. His past resides in his body, remarkably aged for someone who was immortal until only four years ago. It also resides the blue glowing orb that sits atop the staff he refuses to let go of. As if he were grasping the edge of a great precipice, he constantly maintains a deathgrip on what he calls his walking stick. Although he tries to hide it, it is there, reminding him of the lies he has told to maintain his version of himself.

So who is Irrevestrius? I will not say, dear friends. But know that the skeletons in his closet are abundant, and they are determined to break out, to deliver the medicine that we so rightfully deserve.

-A friend… “of sorts”