I’m participating in NaNoWriMo again this year and I thought I’d share my progress with you.
Back to Brulee (are you sensing a theme? I hope so. I plan on switching PoV from one to the other, though I still need a little work on actually making the PoV based on, you know, my character). We find her a few years after the crash, studying the Light. She’s pretty much been doing just that as she’s still waiting for her sister Shamundi to wake up. Her superiors have had enough of Brulee’s ‘time off’ and Sister Lakosha requests that she go represent their order in Stormwind. Brulee reluctantly agrees, eventually realizing that this is probably for the best.
Once in Stormwind, she writes to her sister about her activities with the intent of giving her the letters later. Crusader Powel (another great name there, I’m sure), her supervisor in Stormwind, interrupts her writing to mention that he has a different job in mind for her (I wonder what it could be?!)
I spent a good time recapping various WoW details that probably didn’t need to be recapped, especially since I didn’t do research. Brulee also seems to act a bit too pouty here for being a full-grown adult paladin, but I wanted to convey that she did not want to leave her sister alone. Also, I really need to work on Northern accents some more. Time for me to be spending some more time down at the Pig & Whistle…
Chapter 3: Duty to the World
It was, in her opinion, a fascinating read. The people of Azeroth had a relationship much like her people did, across many races. It shouldn’t have surprised her, really. There were many followers of the Light that they had met briefly during their travels. But the pink-skinned humans and dwarves had learned to command the Light with as much finesse as many of her brethren, and with very similar ideologies as their own. Their Night Elf allies also worshipped the Light, and even with their different stance on it’s source, also controlled it well.
In fact, all of the races from their Alliance had some faith in the Light; even the Gnomes, who had apparently relied more on their experience with the mechanical and physical world than to worship the Light. But more often than not ceremonies of all types were performed with the Light’s blessings, and performed by those who dedicated their life to it, much as she had.
It was with this common philosophy of the Light that eased the fears of the people of Azeroth. Who could have blamed the Night Elves, seeing them crash onto a nearby isle, appearing like those demon Eredar that had haunted their planet in the past, for attacking them at first? But the Light ended up easing the tensions between them all. Brulee would not be surprised if the Naaru had it’s hand in that too.
And that was another thing; their new allies had been fairly accepting of the existence of the Naaru. Some paid them no mind, but many thought their existence sparked curiosity as to their existence and provided even more questions to ask about their faith in the Light. A new era had begun for them, prompting pamphlets, booklets, and novels on the subject. Experts on the Light made copies for all the major churches and sanctuaries of the Light, included their ship turned city, Exodar.
Brulee spent all of her time reading them. She was almost done with this particular set by a Brother of the Light from Stormwind. He had some interesting thoughts, but nothing entirely new. Several other scholars, one Dwarf and several Draenei, had already explored these thoughts before. But it was nice to see a slightly different take on it from someone who had not been exposed to the other works. The book itself seemed to have been completed slightly before the other ones, meaning it was a simultaneous theory. How delightful!
She jotted a quick note down in her notebook about this. Her notes already consumed over half the pages, with several other books completely full in her quarters, the testament to her extensive research on the Light over the few years since the crash. Perhaps someday she would write a book on the subjects herself, but for now she was content to catalogue their libraries data for later entry into their yet to be completely repaired databanks.
That was just one of the many things awaiting repairs, even years after they landed. There had just been so much to do. Once all the survivors had been found, the dead properly buried, the various camps full of their people had to gather. Their leaders, spiritual and physical, had had a conference, in which it was determined it would be impossible for The Exodar to fly again, just as Brother Kalim had said. With the Night Elves, the first to make contact with them, offering them a place with their people and with like-minded people of the world who also had had unpleasant contact with the Burning Legion and would help them with their fight, it made sense to not try to run again. Azeroth would stand with them against their greatest threat.
Then came the time to rebuild, to try and make this place a home. The shell of the Exodar would be suitable to house most of their people, it was decided, though some of the other crash sites would be kept to keep an eye on the tarnished lands and to provided food for the city. The islands had been mostly uninhabited by Night Elves, though nearby lived some intelligent creatures called Furbolgs. They would not inhabit too much of their land, however. Camps that were not to be kept had the injured and sleeping people moved, while any more permanent structures of those camps were torn down for scraps and other usable parts. The few permanent villages they were keeping had permanent structures built. Some used parts of the crashed ship to shape their buildings, while others were built from the scrap materials. The building process was still ongoing in some places.
The Exodar was no exception to the rebuilding process. Even with the position with which it landed, all of it’s nooks and crannies were used to build a working city. Carefully it was divided into districts: one for their Shaman brethren, who had helped them escape from Draenor; one for followers of the Light, central to their people; and one for the traders and the creators, those who could craft and make the items they needed to live, where one could trade their wares for other goods and services. Not to mention the great hall they had put together for their Naaru visitor, with it’s spiral upwards to the inn where most of their allies would stay. Those that lived in the city usually stayed in the living accommodations in the various other tiers, in small nooks and crannies that could serve as more private rooms in the generally open layout of the ship. Or city, as it was now.
While many of their people lived within their city, quite of few did not like it’s confines or the reminder of their journey to this planet. They stayed on the surface (as the ship had sunk deep into the ground, causing much of The Exodar to be beneath the land), either in the other towns that the Draenei had built, on the outskirts of the city, in the countryside of the islands they now called their home. Some even moved to other cities of their Allies: the peaceful and beautiful city of Darnassas, built in the boughs of a great tree (a world tree, she had learned. It was very fascinating that a larger tree used to exist, until the Burning Legion came, and the significance of such a tree to the planet. The Night Elves’ history was nearly as long as their people’s own history, and just as tragic); Stormwind, the human’s city of white stone and blue roofs, full of winding and twisting streets and bridges over watery canals; Ironforge, the impenetrable fortress of the Dwarves and Gnomes, built into the heart of a mountain with molten fires of the earth that burned night and day.
At least, Brulee had heard that others had made homes in those cities, and in smaller towns and villages across Azeroth. She felt no need to leave the Exodar. She had everything she needed here. She was not the only one who read these books. Books came in from around the globe to their library; she was merely providing a service by catagorizing them, one by one, in her free time, aka the time not spent helping to repair the Exodar or otherwise continue to help her people with the rebuilding process of the Exodar.
She turned another page of the book, and was about to make another note in her own notebook when the light click of hooves on the smooth, hard sruface of the libraries floor alerted her to someone entering the room. She glanced up to see another of her mentors from the circle of Light-following Paladins, Sister Lakosha.
Lakosha was very tall, even by her people’s standards. Her skin was the lightest of blues, and it shimmered in the dim lights, as if telling of her great power. It lined her muscles, which stood out with her wearing vests and close fitting pants. It was obvious that Lakosha trained often, which Brulee knew to be true as she herself would try to attend one of Lakosha’s training sessions once a week, to try and keep herself ready for combat should the need arise. The tall draenei’s hair was straight, falling clear to her shoulders, past her face tentacles, while her horns went straight out to each side. Her face, usually stern or pulled tight with concentration as she blocked, attacked, and parried during training, was usually filled with concern and worry.
“There you are, Sister Brulee,” she called out as she briskly walked to Brulee’s chair. Brulee quickly set down her books onto a nearby table and stood.
“What bring you here, Sister Lakosha?” Brulee asked, searching the other’s face for answers. “Is this about my sister? Has there been a change in her status?”
Lakosha shook her head, a pained expression crossing her face for a moment. “No, this is not about your sister. If I had news that she had awakened I would have come running.”
Brulee relaxed from a tension she hadn’t realized was there until Lakosha settled her fears. “Then what has brought you to me?”
“You have,” Lakosha replied. Brulee blinked, puzzled.
“I do not…”
Lakosha smiled. “Come; let us take a walk and I will explain.”
“As you wish, Sister.” Brulee quickly brushed her robe to make it fall straight and the two of them walked in silence out of the library into The Vault of Lights.
Brulee looked about as they walked. Down in the central terrace a class of young draenei were being led about the holoprojectors depicting various types of agents of the Burning Legion. It was one of the more recent projects completed in The Exodar, the refurbishing of one of their most important teaching tools. Images of the Legion were familiar to all Draenei, whether they had faced them in combat before or not, as well as strategies to defeat them. Sometimes even their allies would come to learn from this presentation, to share with their students at their home.
“Tell me, Brulee,” Lakosha said, interrupting the silence, “what does it mean to be a Paladin?”
Brulee brows furrowed again; that sounded like a question one would ask a novice of the Light, not one with her years of experience. She still humored the Sister with an answer though. “To study the Light, to spread it’s teaching to others. To ask the Light to fill others’ lives, to have it aid us in our stuggles,” she supplied, a standard schoolbook answer.
Lakosha smiled lightly. “Very good, but I believe you have forgotten a tenant. ‘To protect those in trouble with its grace’, is it?”
Brulee blushed and nodded. She did forget that tenant. It was not one her books often focused on; many of the writers focused on the Light’s ideology and healing power.
“And that tenant implies so much more, does it not?” Lakosha asked. “It asks us to protect the weak. It asks us to look after children who are left without parents, to protect them from the harshness of the world. To go out and find trouble, and then right those wrongs, to protect the innocent in the world from getting into more harm.”
Brulee nodded again; all of those sentiments were true.
The Sister continued. “After all, one can more easily apply aspects of our faith and demonstrate them to the world if we are out in the world, even if it is not our own.
Brulee could feel the Sister’s eyes examine her for a reaction. She kept her face straight forward, unmoving.
“That is why I have spoken with the high council,” Sister Lakosha continued cautiously. “We have decided that it is time you were sent on a mission to help our Alliance members.”
Brulee stopped dead in her tracks, face going from surprise to anger as she flipped to the side to face Lakosha. “Send me away?” she accused. “I was promised that I could stay here, close to my sister, until she has awakened! And now you ask me to leave here, to leave her alone?”
Lakosha’s voice stayed calm, and even her face did not display much guilt from Brulee’s accusation. “That was when first landed, Brulee.” She reached out to put a hand on Brulee’s shoulder but Brulee shrugged it away. Lakosha looked hurt for a moment but continued to speak. “We did not know if she would live or die and did not want you to suffer if she were to pass away while trying to help out Allies. Keeping you here to rebuild would keep you close to your sister. And your studies of the Light have been most invaluable.”
“Then why have me leave? Why can I not just stay here, if my studies have become ‘invaluable’ as you say?”
Lakosha sighed. “As helpful as they are, our numbers are stretched thin. Many are still back on shattered Draenor, cleaning up after dealing a blow to the Legion there.”
Brulee nodded slowly. She was aware that many of her people returned to Draenor through ‘the Dark Portal’, in her opinion a rather depressing and dangerous endeavour all together, to return to your old homeworld shattered and broken. It was where their former allies, the Orcs, had been consumed by madness and raced through to this world in an attempt to conquer it. It was rather ironic that they were sharing a world yet again.
“And many others in our order have duties to the Alliance to perform in the northern continent, to clear the world of the undead threat that once threatened to consume it.”
“What do these conflicts have to do with me?” Brulee asked.
“Do you not see, Sister?” Lakosha demanded. “We are no longer alone in our fight against the Legion. We are no longer running from our conflicts, but making a stand with our allies. We are no longer a single entity that focuses on our own problems, but one that helps out those who have help us! Our allies need our assistance, no matter how small, on the many fronts that they fight!”
Brulee stepped back from Lakosha’s fury. Never had she seen her teacher with such anger; perhaps she may have looked fierce in training, but never with her words.
Lakosha mirrored Brulee’s movement with a forward step of her own. “But you are stuck, Brulee. You are stuck in our past mindsets, at least partly. If you do not go out into the world, if you do not progress your training further, you will never be a complete paladin.” Her voice calmed slightly, though it still carried an edge. “I have seen it in our trainings, as infrequent as they have gotten to be. You have lost the spark that aims to swing your blade; your prayers are half-felt, your mind instead focused on the theories in your books, your heart staying by your sister’s side. And I understand why it would be there, do not get me wrong. Family has been important for all of us.” She paused for a moment, her eyes’ glow unfocusing for just a brief moment. “But in the heat of battle, ones heart should be focused on the Light.”
“Y-yes, Sister,” Brulee managed to get out, nearly shocked into silence.
Lakosha returned to a more neutral posture. “I am glad you understand. I have spoken with Brother Kalim and others in the high order. We understand that you are out of practice at the moment, and shall not be requesting your presence for any high combat areas for the time being, such as in Northrend, in the fight against the Lich King. But a request had come in from our fellow human Paladins in Stormwind. They are looking for an expert in the Light to help guide troubled youth. And given your recent activities, you would seem to fit the bill for that job.”
“You wish for me to go to Stormwind?” Brulee asked with distress.
Lakosha appraised her. “Yes. It is the council’s wishes you travel there and follow the orders of one Crusader Powel in his attempts to better the youth of Stormwind.”
“For how long? And my sister…” she protested.
“I would like a year-long assignment would be best, unless you would wish to stay longer.”
Brulee shook her head violently.
“Then in a year you would be recalled here for a time of rest before a new assignment would be found. As for your sister, the priests who have been caring for her will let you know the second she awakes, and obviously immediate transportation would be arranged for you to return here, just as we would for others who’s close relatives still lie in comas.”
Brulee nodded. “That sounds reasonable,” even though her own voice sounded slightly suspicious.
“Then you accept your assignment, Sister Brulee?” Lakosha asked.
“Do I have a choice?” Brulee asked, resigned.
Lakosha smiled, once again her serenely pleasant self. “Your passage to Stormwind will be in one week, Sister. Please be prepared.” She bowed to Brulee, and Brulee to her, before walking off to the training grounds.
<Brulee visits her sister.>
It was a bitter pill for Brulee to swallow that Lakosha was right about everything she had said.
That first evening, she went to her quarters to pray on the matters, reaching out for the Light for comfort. It came, but to her chagrin, it was weaker than it had been in the past.
The next day, she went to the training grounds to get some practice in, and was flustered that she could not even disarm the newest trainee. Nor was her connection to the Light as strong as it used to be.
It was only right, she reasoned, that she follow the advice of her esteemed elders then and travel and live in Stormwind.
She packed many things. Her personal belonging that she would wish to bring with her all fit into a single large chest, including her day wear of robes, her training outfit, her battle armor, her ceremonial armor. That was sure to impress the children; it glinted with platinum and purple metal, fitted together with the finest of linens dyed white and purple. It had always held a special place in her heart, reminding her of the time it was first granted to her, an heirloom passed down from her grandmother she never met, Bru’sha, a great paladin in her own right. She was surprised it had made it through the crash with little to repair, along with many other goods that had been stored on the Exodar in one giant holding room.
She did not bring many books with her, as most of the ones she read belonged to the public collection. She did, however, straighten out her notes, spending a full day writing out a copy for herself, and then giving the originals to the library for reference. Even if they were just notes, it would be helpful for other scholars of the Light, she was sure. And keeping a copy for herself would allow her to write out that book she had been contemplating, if she could find the time.
A few requests had filtered in through from various areas; could she bring this or that trinket it to so and so who was living in Darnassas, on her way to Stormwind? Or to such and such living at the Menethil harbor, or those in Ironforge or Stormwind itself. Various foodstuffs and trinkets filled another crate entirely, as requests continued to filter in through the week.
Even later in the week, she spoke with Lakosha about the trip’s details. A boat would take her from Exodar to Darnassas. A night’s stay there would lead to a quick flight across the sea to Auberdine, part of the mainland of Kalimdor. From there a public trade boat would take her straight to Stormwind on the Eastern Continent, with a few stops along the way, for trading no doubt. All in all it would take quite a few days to get to Stormwind. Lakosha assured her that the Crusader had a place for her to stay all ready, so she wouldn’t need to worry about securing room and board (though the Inn there would be available if she arrived at an unexpected time).
However, Brulee saved herself time each evening to go visit her sister, even if it was just for a moment. It was on her last night in Exodar that she set aside the entire evening to spend with her still comatose sister.
She walked into the infirmary where those still stricken with the spell from the crash rested; they were in the back, while any other injuries were addressed in the front. The Priests on duty gave her nod; she was a familiar visitor there.
She headed directly for the curtained area in the rear, flicking them open to the purple-glowing room in which the still sleeping Draenei remained. This was just one such infirmary, holding a few dozen Draenei. Most of them had been close to the malfunctioning engine at the time, trying to repair it, just as her sister had been.
The plush pods held the sleeping Draenei. Due to their proximity to the explosion, most of them had sustained serious injuries, but all of those had healed, leaving scars.
She could still see them on Shamundi, as she approached her. Her hair, still growing slowly, had been arranged to cover her missing horn. Her damaged eye now had a stylish patch covering it, also blocking the scars. Scars dashed across her body where the wounds and bandages once lay, before ending in the stump of her right leg, missing the lower half.
“It is still much better than it was,” Brulee thought as she eased in to a stool next to the pod-like bed, and leaned against the rim of the bed, looking down upon her sister. “And she was asleep during the healing. She would not have to be aware of the pain she went through, so I hope.” And she was still well cared for. The Priests would work their healing power upon the prone, to keep their muscles from deteriorating completely, to keep them well when they could not eat; advanced healing spells that were far beyond Brulee’s ability.
It had taken over a year since she had woken for the priests to be sure that Shamundi would not simply pass away in her sleep from the injuries. A year Brulee had spent close to her sister, hoping that she would wake so they could share some words, a year she spent helping with the reconstruction with all her mind’s focus on the healing of her sister, a healing she could not perform. How powerless she felt because of it.
And now she would have to leave her here, alone in a strange world. She knew her sister, if she did wake, would not really be alone. But they were the last two of their family – the last. Elders had been claimed by the Legion long ago. Her parents died to the Orcish raids, when they had lost their minds to some sort of evil and slaughtered her people. Her brother, dear Alee, so young and bold, died while defending against those same Orcs as one of their hidden villages was under attacked. Many lives were saved that day, but many had paid the price.
What would she do if she were to lose her sister too? It would almost be too much to bare. Brulee knew others had lost their entire families to their people’s enemies, and if Shamundi were to die, Light forbid, she could likely soldier on as they did. But here her sister lay, unmoving, neither alive nor dead, and the uncertainty she felt about this drove her crazy.
“Perhaps that is why they recommended I spent time away. To not have her weigh so heavily on my mind…” Brulee thought, oddly calm. Perhaps in Stormwind she could find peace.
Spurred by this thought, she pulled out her small notebook that she always kept close at hand and scrawled a message for her sister. Other’s had done so, letters left in the bed with the sleepers, and with her now leaving, it seemed like a good time to do so.
I am alive and well, waiting for you. Do not worry, I shall come to your side as soon as you call.
With everlasting love,
Was there anything else to say that the Priests would not? Would a longer explanation in the note sooth her sister’s fears and panic at the thought of being asleep for so long? Brulee doubted it would; a simple note would do.
She folded it in half and placed it next to Shamundi’s head on her pillow.
“Goodbye, sister. May the Light be with you.” She leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek before leaving the ward for the last time.
<Brulee is on a boat? Or just Brulee has been in Stormwind for awhile and thinks about the boat. Probably in Stormwind, yah.>
“Tha’ was a great talk ye di’, lass,” Crusader Gregory Powel said to Brulee with a thundering slap to her back. She tried not to wince.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied in her accented Common. Her reading and writing of the Common language shared between races of the Alliance was much better than her spoken, but she still understood most things everyone said, and vis versa. Its live application was certainly more difficult than just practicing it with other Draenei.
Not to mention the accents. Crusader Powel had lived in the North of the Eastern Kingdoms for years. She had to concentrate doubly hard to follow what he was saying half the time.
“I’m sure the laddies and lasses ‘ill ask more questions about the Light next time, eh?”
“One could be hoping so, sir,” she replied while packing away her props. Exactly all of the questions that the orphans asked today were about her people and ‘why did they have horns’ or ‘why did they look so funny’ or ‘I heard you guys were demons’ or other such nonsense.
“Good, good! Well I’ve some business ta attend ta, so I’ll let ye run off and do whatevah ya’d like ta. Light bless!” the Crusder cheerfully exclaimed as he walked out of the room.
“Light bless for you too!” she called out half-heartedly. She assumed he wouldn’t have heard anyway.
All of her things were packed so she too left the room, a rented out one in one of the shops in town. She carried the crate with her both of her hands out of the building, with nods to the shopkeeps as they went about their daily business.
Outside the shop she attracted stares, partly because she was a Draenei, she supposed, but also her ceremonial armor seemed to be a little up-dressed in the city. Judging from what the Paladins typically wore in Stromwind, purple seemed outlandish to them.
“No matter,” she thought to herself while consulting her map of the city to determine how to navigate back to the Cathedral where she was staying. “I think it still looks stunning.”
She only got lost three times on her way back to her room, a marked improvement from the last time she had to find her way in the city. A nod to the Paladins stationed – they stared at her armor too, she noted, hopefully in jealous – and a quick trip to the lower levels of the Cathedral got her to her rooms, where guests of the Order would stay.
It was a small space, enough for a bed and a desk and her chest of belongings, but it was enough for her time in the city. A year and it would all be in distant memory.
<letter writing time!>
She took the time to change out of her armor and into a comfortable dress, as there was no need to wear the armor in her own room, or even if she wasn’t on official business. Brulee then sat down at her desk. It was fairly worn; the retainer of the rooms had said it was likely passed down from some student or another before it ended up here.
From a drawer in the desk she pulled out some parchment, an inkwell and a feather pen she had purchased just the day before. Since she could not be near her sister physically, Brulee had decided to write to her. She would have started sooner, of course, but had nothing to write with for much of the journey, and had otherwise been kept busy until today. But the rest of the afternoon and evening were free for her, so she now would have plenty of time to write about the events that had heppened.
“Besides, it may give me a chance to reflect on what I have done so far…” she thougth to herself. As much as she hated to admit it, Lakosha and the other elders were right to be concerned about her. The crash had effected her more ddeply than she had realised, and this time away would give her a chance to reflect on it.
She undid the stopper on the ink, dipped in her pen, and began to write.
I find myself traveling to Stormwind, the human capitol, on business for the Paladins. It was a three-leg journey, by boat, by bird, by boat. I must say I enjoyed sailing much better than flying, as I still am uneasy with heights. The first boat ride was short and uneventful, from our island to the Night Elves’. The sea was clam that day, and there were quite a few people going to and from Darnassas that day, due to usual trade and other business between our people.
The second ship’s journey was much longer. I am fortunate to not have gotten seasick, as several of my traveling companions did. I did what I could to sooth them, and it helped them on most days to not throw up. But we did sail through one squall that even my assistance was futile in keeping their dinners in. Even I felt a tad queasy, but the sailors on the ship kept us afloat and did their work commendably.
I ran across Tohki at one point of harbor. Menethril, I believe. You remember her, yes? She is the one who set the garden on fire with her machine. She has been staying there for some time, though I did not quite understand what she was helping with. All that techno mumble jumbo went over my head as usual, though she was quite pleased to receive the order of food she requested from The Exodar, along with a new part. She ran off after she got that. I’m sure she was just really excited.
Stormwind itself is as impressive as they say it is in the stories I had heard from others. It is a huge sprawling place, filled with tall buildings and stores with water running all throughout the town. It is filled with humans and dwaves and gnomes, and even a few night elves and other draenei. Truly a great city. They say it had been rebuilt only some odd twenty years ago, and I can understand why. It is close to the sea and beautiful fertile valleys all around. Truly an idyllic place.
The central point of the city is their temple to the Light and its users, called the Cathedral. It is one of the tallest buildings in the city. Its bells wake me every morning, chiming the time for the city.
The various preists and paladins who follow the Light live and work here. It is their central communication point for all who follow teh Light, so they may send their resources across the world to the areas that need it, much like our own Council. Those who have permanent positions in the Cathedral stay in the quarters upstairs, while visitors such as myself are given guest rooms in the lower floors.
The room is nice. I foresee I will spend little time in it as my duties here continue to increase, so its small size is of no consequence. And they made sure the bed was big enough to fit my tall form! I tower over many of the humans here; only some Night Elves I can face more eye to eye.
Perhaps that is why I attract such stares when I walk about the streets. Crusader Powel, who is my mentor here, has said that oft times male Draenei have elicited panic from those familiar with the Eredar. But now the stares are more from the curious who have not left Stormwind that much. Seeing a Draenei is still a rarity for them.
Crusdaer Powel himself is an interesting persone. He is an older human, and has lived much of his life in the northern reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms. This means he has a horribly hard accent to parse through when I am listening to him speak Common! Most of our teachers for Common spoke the common accent that many in Stormwind have, so this Northern accent is certainly causing me to think harder! I can only ask him to repeat a phrase so many times! Luckily, I think he has caught on to my difficulties and has started to speak a little slower and clearer in my presence. It helps, but I cannot help feeling a little foolish being spoken to like a child! I have thrown myself into studies of Common even further to prevent this from happening much more.
Taking shopping trips in the city helps this, as I must force myself to converse with others for this or that item, such as this parchment and ink I am writing you with. Most of the shopkeeps are polite enough not to ask too much about my appearance; it is a dreadfully awful conversation to have to explain to someone that yes, I do look blue and yes that is my natural skin color just like those Night Elves. I must bite my tongue to not ask if they have always been so pink or brown, for that would leave only a negative impression upon them.
At least the children I have met so far in order to teach them in the ways of the Light have asked more intelligent questions, such as where we had come from or if the horns have any functionality besides stabbing people (yes, stabbing people! Such violent little youngsters, though it certainly can be understandable considering the vast amounts of war these people have seen, much like our own people. However, I have set them straight on the matter that no one stabs anyone with their horns, and I shant mention the incident with the cake if you won’t). I hope that we can eventually move past this phase and actually talk about the Light, but I guess there is novelty to having a Draenei for a teacher instead of one of their own. I’m sure once I tell them that stealing is wrong they will think twice about it less they have an ‘alien’ chasing them down the street for punishment!
The teaching schedule so far has been pretty empty. Crusader Powel mentioned several of the classes I had been scheduled to handle had been moved to a different initiate due to my late arrival (the storm I mentioned earlier had set us off course and delayed our arrival by several days!) I have spent most of my time here so far preparing reading over their materials for the classes I may or may not end up teaching and generally getting to know the other priests and paladins here. Quite a few of them have similar interests in the theory of the Light as I do and have wished to speak of it further. We have had several long discussions over the dinner tables here and
A knock on the door interrupted Brulee’s writing. She set down the pen and pushed out the chair to stand, mentally switching herself back into ‘Common’ mode as she called out, “Come in, please!”
The door swung in, revealing Crusader Powel. “‘ope I’m nae interruptin’ anythin’,” he said with a cheerful voice, as it always seemed to be.
“No, you are not at all, sir. Do be pleased to enter,” Brulee said, gesturing to the small open space in front of the door.
Powel grinned. “Ye sure have a funny way of puttin’ things.”
Brulee ginned back, though mentally she was kicking herself. The grammar phrasing was always the hardest to do. At least she got the point across. “As you do too, sir. What brings you to here?”
“Ye know how most ye classes were rescheduled?” he asked, getting down to business. Brulee nodded.
“Well I think I have just the job fer ye ta handle in its place.”
“Is that so?”
“Yah. Jus’ come wit’ me and we ken talk ’bout it. See, involves this girl…” he started as the two of the exited her room.