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Hello all and welcome to my blog (this is one of the nicest things you will ever here me say), in which i will whine and be cynical about different things until you'll either want to put a bullet through your head or drown yourself in your own piss.

I am now Jooseman, the Artist formerly known as Jonith, and I have stopped using the name Jonith regularly (however do still have many accoun named Jonith, so go by both) as it got confusing, So call me Jooseman or Joose or whatever. Call me TwatBucket if it pleases you.

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Wednesday, 31 August 2011

The Diaries of Jonith of Gilneas: An Ending

August 14th

This morning Pordit started shaking my shoulders to wake me up. I knew something was the matter, when he explained that he could no longer let the traitor king Magni rule over his people and decided to screw the training and go fight him already.

This involved going to Darnassus first, not that I wanted to go, the flea ridden Worgen had made up their home underneath the tree (I thought it was more likely they’d piss on it), but we set off to Booty Bay anyway to get out boat. My anger grew in the Vale though, after an argument with Pordit over honour and I nearly in fact left him to die on his own but I eventually let my anger go and we carried on.

I don’t like Booty Bay, the biggest hive of scum and villainy in the whole of Azeroth, and I was glad we were leaving soon, so after getting supplies ready, and a hurried run to the boat, we were finally on our way. The trip was at night so we fell asleep on some hammocks next to a pair of annoying sailors.

August 15th

We were awoken this morning, by shouting from the captain that we were coming into port. Ratchet. I hate Goblins, they would sell us out to the Horde if there was profit in it, but suppose it’s good to see some mildly friendly faces before we set out into the wilderness, especially as our equipment needed repairing.

Riding across the Barrens was boring as hell, and I nearly fell off my horse as I was falling to sleep. Pordit’s call of “Horde ahead” brought me back to my senses. I could see him grinning with glee as we dismounted and sneaked behind a couple of nearby boulders. We both have a hatred of the Horde so when we left the camp, a few of the orcs had been cleaved in 2, others have arrows sticking out of them like pin cushions. Hate to say it, but it was entertaining.

The rest of the journey was awful, only livened up by the killing of Horde. By the time we had made camp at the Ashenvale border, my arse hurt more than how much Pordit’s probably hurt in prison after the Defias had finished with him. The night was long and uncomfortable, as we were always wary of the Horde cutting our throats while we slept.

August 16th

Pordit was already up by the time I did, and after looking round my mouth opened shocked. Ashenvale had become one huge logging camp. Damn you Garrosh and your Horde. The mystical beauty of Ashenvale was quickly adding to the dead plains of the Barrens.

We carried on after we had collected our belongings, being careful to stay away from any Orc patrols on the road. Pordit didn’t seem to care though, must have been a bad night’s sleep for him as he constantly looked like he was about to fall asleep. That was until we saw the sight of Astranaar.

Horde scum circled overhead on their winged beasts, which look like the spawn of a Demon (it will never beat a good old Gryphon.) Most of the buildings were on fire, after seeming being bombed, leaving me and Pordit angry, we felt it was better not to stay though, and set off to Darkshore, but not before seeing a large clearing in the forest, burning in an orange blaze. A large Fire elemental laughed manically at the dying creature below as we rode past, but we were powerless to stop him.

Pordit looked fed up now, angry and also bored at everything we had seen. The tiredness was reaching me as well. We may have entered Darkshore, but it was still hours until Auberdine and a chance to relax on the boat. When reaching Auberdine we were horrified by what we saw though. The entire town destroyed and sinking into the waves. I heard Pordit cursing at Deathwing.

Another small town had been built further north, from which we got a Hyppogryth to Darnassuss. It is the worst designed city ever built, but at least it looks nice. Pordit hates it, give him a mountain any day.

When we arrived it was late, so Pordit booked us in a night at the Inn. I was tired so fell asleep very quickly.

August 17th

I woke up Pordit early this morning. I had some important business to deal with in the Worgen “district”, and rightly so Pordit was dubious about what I was planning to do. He was lecturing me all the way there about how I shouldn’t do anything stupid like spit on them. I didn’t see any point in listening to him defend the flea ridden beasts anyway, so the first thing I did was spit on one. Luckily for us we were not ripped apart.

It was then, though, that I saw somebody who would change my mind about my feeling on the worgen. Praise the light, my sister had survived the attacks on Gilneas, I had family still living. I had to slap Pordit a few times to make him snap out of it, after he had started making sexist jokes to her, (damn Dwarves) but she eventually explained that the rest of my family were still living, fighting off the Forsaken as members of the Gilneas Liberation Front. It was then the views that I had been harbouring for most my life changed, perhaps a Worgen could be honourable then. I had to say bye to my sister though then, as Pordit the impatient git wanted to go see Tyrande and Malfurion.

It was on the long journey that I brought up the fact that perhaps I could become a Worgen too, and help my family take back our lands, Pordit constantly scoffed at the idea in a joking way, but I could tell in his voice that the idea disgusted and scared him. I decided it would be best not to talk about it for the time being, as eventually one of us would let our temper come out.

When we first got to Malfurion, my heart was in my mouth and I was nervous as at first he threatened Pordit, however it soon dropped again as I saw Malfurion hug Pordit as if they weere long lost brothers. The explained how they had saved each other’s lives multiple times in the Third War, and then he went on to say that he knew of Magni’s treachery. He couldn’t help us though as the fate of the world was at stake in Hyjal, but he did offer us any services we would like in Darnassus.
I thanked him for this, but Pordit became angry, until I explained how much the battle for Hyjal meant to the world over a drink of Stout in the Inn. It was then we agreed to go to Lordaeron and get the help of the Argent Crusade.

We couldn’t think of a way to get their though, that was until Pordit suggested a stupid idea. Sneak through Orgrimmar to get the zeppelin to the Undercity. Was he mad or just stupid? It was only when he explained the alternative, It would involve travelling through Khaz Modan, where security had been tightened, and everybody was searching for Pordit. So I reluctantly accepted, we would probably die no matter what, Pordit didn’t like my attitude and told me to drink another beer.

The Night Elves allowed us to borrow two Hypogryphs to fly us to Azshara and the back gate of Orgrimmar. This was it, no turning back now. We silently took down to travelling horde members and put on their hoods. We looked like we were doing a ridiculous Orc impression. The sneaking through the city went surprisingly well though, until we took lift up to the Zeppelin docks, where a Guard recognised us. We did all we could.... Ran. The whole of Orgrimmar was closing down on us as we dived off the tower onto the back of the Zeppelin.

We went to sleep, but were always alert for the 2 guards who were on the upper deck.

August 18th

We arrived in Lordaeron early that morning and Pordit rightly decided it would be better to jump off of the Zeppelin rather than fly into the middle of Undead lands. Landed in a bush though, so instead of it being fatal, we just hurt ourselves a little.

I couldn’t recognise Lordaeron at first. When I was last here it was lush and green, it was beautiful. Now it’s a land of darkness and shadow. The Forsaken are just as bad as their scourge counterparts, the murdering, unmoral bastards.

We avoided the roads as much as possible, but it was then Pordit told me he wanted to venture into the Ruins of Lordaeron, to show his respects towards King Terenas, the last true king of Lordaeron, and a man, Pordit explained, who was like a father to him.

We thought it would be a problem getting in to see his grave, as it was directly above the Forsaken capital, and I was way all the way. We luckily managed to pray without a disturbance, and received his blessing. We then saddled our mounts and rode southward, first to Gilneas, and then onwards to resupply in Southshore.

It was a tense journey to Gilneas, the whole of Silverpine has been taken over by the Forsaken, and if it was not for the Gilneas Liberation Front driving them off, we would not have survived. We eventually sighed in relief as we slipped through the ruined gate of the Greymane Wall.

We followed the ruined road all the way to Gilneas City, and it was quite obvious the beautiful city had experienced quite a few battles. Bodies littered the cobbled streets, along with remnants of what was a Forsaken army. I was glad we didn’t see any remaining there though, they didn’t deserve to inhabit this city.

We soon saw why there were non remaining though, 7th Legion has set up base in the city. Glad to see the Alliance has sent the best of the best to help us. We then went into the cathedral to get a blessing and pray for a safe journey. I wonder if the god’s believed what we didn’t?

After that we went to the cemetery, the place that... that my ancestors were buried.
As I passed along the graves, placing flowers, I knelt down in front of the large memorial to them all, and broke down crying. Pordit placed his hand on my shoulder, but I knew he was deep in thought.

We rode to an abandoned Gilnean house, and slept there for the night.

August 19th

We rode out of Gilneas at first light, no longer wishing to stay. We rode out of Silverpine, through the newly built Horde gate. Undeath could be smelt everywhere, and most of the old human settlements had been destroyed, and turned into so called “human farms”, they are crimes against all living beings.
outhshore, as I could remember it was a beautiful town, full of nice residents and beautiful scenery. We were looking forward for a few days rest before moving on. The sight we were greeted with shocked us to our core though.

The whole place had been decimated by the Forsaken’s plague, which covered the once pleasant town, now occupied by various vile oozes. Pordit numerous times, punched the wall in anger as we passed through. The Forsaken, the monsters,
we both vowed we would lay siege to the Undercity with the armies of the Alliance!

We made our way through the town, to the Inn, which had been undamaged inside. We looked around for supplies, but all we could find was the last few drops in the beer kegs. Together we raised a toast to the Alliance, before drinking the last drops of the world famous Southshore beer.

We swiftly left the ex-town, heading north up through the ruins of Alterac, which had been inhabited by Ogres since the treason of the kingdom. We killed a few before heading through Stahnbrad, now occupied by some vile cultists.

At the Alterac border we made camp and went to sleep. You would have to be an idiot to actually sleep in the Plaguelands, but perhaps soon we would be that idiot.

August 20th

We headed off to Chillwind camp early in the morning, Pordit barely talked on the journey, as cold winds chilled me to the bone. He appeared to be deep in thought all the way there, and god knows what he was actually thinking about.
We arrived at the camp hoping for the help of the Argent Crusade, but before we could they gave us the task of securing Andorhal. We were taking it back FOR THE ALLIANCE!

We journeyed up the path to the Alliance base camp in Andorhal, and quickly reported to the commander there, a free Death Knight named Thassarian, who we needed to help capture this city, his first task before dealing with the Forsaken, was to kill a Lich named Araj the Forsaken.

So now we’re here, hiding in the shadows of a crumbled building, jumping at shadows and hunting the dead, waiting for him. Pordit can barely contain his glee that we get to kill scourge, but me, I’m more wary, and his over confidence could get us both killed.

Wait, I think I heard rustling. He’s drawing near now, so if anybody is to find this diary if I am to die, then please take it to my sister in Darnassus.

(The Diary is soggy, after dropping to the wet ground, and blood splatters the pages)

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