I really find it necessary to write over my deceased father's diary, to continue with his legacy. He was a hero.

I am bored. I wish I was as good as him in everything. Still, I have to write to keep on healthy. Months have passed and I am still in this prison. The Stockades.

This world is strange, like a nightmare. Now that I think of it, it is a place of great energetic flows... Which does not mean that it is a beautiful place.

I have to stop writing, The Defias leader is coming towards me and he will burn my papers if he finds them.

Till next day, Mysterious Father... I would like to know more about you and your random writings...

I am hiding in an Inn's basement as I write these words. The Invisible Hand is chasing me. I listen how the rat... The Innkeeper is telling them I am here. I hope that one day... THE MIDNIGHT SUN WILL RISE FOR US, COMRADES!!! ABOVE ON THE SUN LIES AN ANCIENT TRUTH!!!

Indelibles, do not forget my name!!!

MY OTHER COMRADES, LOOK FOR THE BLOOD ON THE STONE. STONE FLOWERS WILL RISE FOR US, MORNING WANDERERS, THE OLD GODS WILL NEVER KILL US!!!

GOODBYE AND HAIL TO A NEW PLANE OF...!!!

HAIL!!!

                                                                                        *

*The pages are covered in dry blood*

 "And I drift in dreams of other lives and... Greater times"

 Great words I found in some musical scrolls to play in my lute, long time ago. That was back when I passed hours in the Northshire Library, looking for wisdom. But now all that happiness has been forgotten, for I have neglected my studies, my art and my writings quite a lot since the crime. It is isolation. - M - Has to work all day long in the vineyards, long away from her home in the moors, and I have to stay in the house all day. I do not have my books. I do not have my lute, I left all my things buried in a safe place. The only things that keep me sane are the conversations with - M - and her never-ending love towards me, this diary and my wine.

 I have not been able to communicate with my Father since that day. I have not been able to communicate with Gardawer through the Nether, nor my comrades. I sent a letter to Sylaurn some time ago, but I had to write it in a rish and I could not write very well.

 Still, above all these dark matters I stand, in a rock tower, lonely and contemplative in my thoughts. The Sun will soon rise...................................................

((( Strange symbols )))

*

I laughed and drank with - M - today. One of my noble friends in the court of Stormwind Keep made some arrangements to "speed up" the elimination my many names from the criminal scrolls. It will probably take some weeks for me to rejoin the "normal" world.

How many times have I been saved by one of my contacts? Probably too many to remember right now. My father, with his many friends across Azeroth, my good looks and my membership in The Order is a considerable aid in desperate situations. Girls will still hear the names "Asen", "Sturmgeweiht" and "Haggeisen" for some time.

About names. I need to create more. I think I will stick with "Asen Ahnenerbe" for some time. "Haggeisen" is not that common, and I only used it once, so I will use it the next time I need to use a new identity.

Visited the Murloc at the swamp, again. It seems he is a very intelligent and developed specimen, which is  strange in Murlocs. Interesting fact: Although he is aware of his advanced state, he also knows that he is still miserable in the cosmic order. While this makes our conversations more relaxed, I miss the revolutionary spirit I often see in lesser races.

I wonder how my comrades are doing?

*

I am back again on my days of being a criminal. The Bad News: Only Stormwind and Ironforge are interested in killing me. The Other Bad news: It seems I will have to hide in a creative place after killing The Traitor.

Now I am hiding in the house of my friend - M -, whose name I won't write for security reasons. She has been a good friend, and she knows how to keep a horrible man happy with delicious meals and some kisses here and there. Too bad I will have to leave her again soon. But destiny shall unite us again.

There is no point in not writing about my beloved guild, <The Indelibles>, for I have written about it on previous pages. I miss my comrades a lot and I wish I was able to talk to them once again... I will, maybe. Gardawer can send them a message for me, but... How to contact Gardawer through the Nether if he does not dream at all? I will have to try being a little bit more powerful on my Nether-Waves, if I want him to know about my desire.

Talked with a Murloc. Nothing has changed since The Morning Wanderers left the embrace of The Old Gods, nothing. The Murloc told me he was a loner, that he was tired of the ever-lasting lust of the elder ones of his tribe towards the Old Gods. I said to him: 'No worries, murloc friend... Soon, when the Old Gods rise once again, your race will be powerful, and your elders will be so powerful... That they will be tired of that power". I lied. The Gods told us they would have to delay their activities in the outside world of Azeroth because of the departure of The Morning Wanderers. They said they couldn't rely on the Murlocs, that they are only pawns in their game. We, (Sundown Minions at that time) were the bishops. Now we are free and follow our true destiny as Morning Wanderers.

I will have to be more careful in what I write... The above paragraph is too much for a common to read.

Who cares...

*

My studies. I have neglected them sometimes, but I keep on getting fascinated by the marvelous variations of nature. So many plants, so many insects and animals.

As we approach to a mountain, water seems to boil faster. Maybe we can gather some information about the races of Azeroth with that observation. Obviously, races that live in flat and low places have a high chance of being entropic, servants of The Old Gods. While forest and mountain races are far more advanced in spiritual terms. The boiling represents the ability to overcome our status as matter, and start to discover the different parts of The Nether, as light beings, we leave Azeroth.

Rumours told me about the fate of my old friend, Estros. His plans of throwing down the rulership of the King have failed, and now he is being held in The Stockade, waiting to be killed. Echoes of my old friendships haunt me. Those times were I thought we, humans, could stand out, fight and conquer. Recover our old glory. But it seems the path now is of solitude.

*

I heard that there was some hysteria after the battle between my friend Gradawer and Rakzuel, The Warlock. Norier told me that Velice "died" in the middle of a Guild meeting. I will have to "kidnap" her one of these days, and apply her some cosmic energy. It will work out.

On a funny note: Norier told me about the meeting, and that the main idea behind it was to give some strength to the Guild internal relations. "We have to be more united", said Rakzuel, The Warlock. Then, Norier whispered him: "So that means you are going to stop ignoring me?"

He got no answer.

It seems the guild "Masters of The Universe" already exists. I will stay with my comrades. It is good, for Gardawer seems to grow more violent every day and I am afraid my comrades will not accept this.

Georg Trakl and Jorge Teillier have been my wardens in the dead of night. Their poetry brings me clear darkness on one hand, and in the other, the nostalgic echoes of the dreamer thoughts about the forest. Excellent writings. I wish my writings were as good as them.

*

Vague thoughts

Primal fear

Is everything we really have,

In this especial moment

Midnight Walk

A bird's song learned by heart

The eternal roots of music in the top

Where you leave some poop

To make the natural alchemy take place

And such a horrible gift

Gets transformed into gold that you can drink

*

Gardawer was very clear: "If I lose, I leave". I will leave with him.

And we will finally create our own Guild.

  *