Darkshore

Using my newly acquired hearthstone, I was whisked away in a burst of green energy and teleported right back to Darnassus, my appearance stirring leaves all around the inn to which my hearthstone was bound. The innkeeper was nowhere in sight, thankfully, or I suspect I may have received a dirty look.

I stopped by a nearby shop and purchased the necessary tools to resume my alchemy studies. I always did enjoy the bubbling flasks and acrid burners of my father's lab as a child. I left my address with the Master Alchemist, hoping he could put me in contact with an herbalist later.

After flying to Lor'Danel by hippogryph, I was immediately put to work helping refugees from Auberdine make their way to safety. Water elementals were trying their best to finish off any survivors, so off I went to pound the little bastards into puddles. Dead puddles.

A Worgen Gentleman in Lor'Danel

I wasn't sure what was going on in Darkshore, but the enormous cyclone in the distance seemed to indicate that something wasn't quite right. I had a feeling I would be finding out sooner rather than later.

Not my best pose

At one point, I met a Keeper of the Grove and a dryad! They are the children of Cenarius, the demigod who first taught the night elves to be druids thousands of years ago.

A Keeper of the Grove and a dryad

While in Lor'Danel, I met a very interesting gnome named Jenna Lemkenilli who insisted that I begin learning how to be an engineer. She was very convincing. And cheerful. And enthusiastic. We spent an hour talking and she gave me some schematics and showed me the basics, saying I'd get the hang of it in no time. It's quite fascinating, a bit like alchemy, but with more emphasis on craftsmanship and manual dexterity.

Next morning the Sentinels dispatched me to the Ruins of Mathystra to deal with the Shatterspear trolls. It seems that after years of peacefully coexisting, the Horde managed to convince the tribe to attack the night elves. The bastards had kidnapped a civilian and were torturing her for information. By the time I got there, it was too late. Thinking she was a spy, they tortured her nearly to death trying to get her to talk, then discarded her like garbage. She died in my arms.

I killed the filthy troll that did that to her. He taunted me and laughed about what he had done to her, but he didn't stand a chance.

Rit'ko, Shatterspear Torturer meeting his demise

A Brother's Legacy

I arrived in Stormwind after a very short journey by sea, but my hope was short lived.

Deathwing destroyed the Park District in Stormwind.

Stormwind Harbor

Me in Stormwind

My brother Thomas died years ago, a hero, they say. A paladin of the Silver Hand, he died during the invasion of Naxxramas. I am alone.

After spending an exhausting hour trying to convince the Stormwind Bank that I was his rightful heir, they allowed me access to his property. I hope to learn as much as I can about Thomas's life after he left Gilneas and the Wall went up. He always was the better of us.

His last gift to me.

I had hoped that coming to Stormwind would lift my spirits, but Fate is cruel at times, and one must persevere. It is time I returned to Kalimdor.

An Introduction

My name is Jonathan Karmak.

I was once a simple Gilnean man, my father an alchemist, my mother a nurse. But, many years ago, a dark curse took that life from me. The Worgen Curse changed me into a raging wolfman -- the desire to hunt, slay and eat so overpowering that I could not control my actions. I lived as that... thing... for years... but now, cleansed of my curse by the Scythe of Elune, I must now make a new life for myself. I must find a way to coexist with the Beast.

I have set about to keep a journal for it is my hope that this contemplative act might serve as a sound anchor for my humanity and soothe this inner rage. Consider it a travel log... a field journal... a memoir, if you will, kept by a gentleman of reason, struggling to maintain control over the feral wildness that threatens to sunder his will. I beg you to bear with me, kind reader, as I struggle to find my voice in this endeavor.

My last glimpse of Gilneas

I now find myself in a foreign land, far removed from my beloved Gilneas. The Night Elves, or Kaldorei, as they call themselves, have welcomed us to their hearths and homes nestled across this savage land. I fear we may never satisfy our debt to them, so great is their kindness to us. Salvation from damnation and destruction... such a generous gift.

The Howling Oak in Darnassus, grown by Druids from an acorn from Gilneas

From Rut'theran Village, I set sail for Stormwind, where my brother Thomas, whom I have not heard from in many years, has made his home. When the Greymane Wall was constructed, I feared I would never see him again. He deserves to know what happened to our family, to know the truth. Maybe then I can return to Kalimdor with a lighter conscience, to lend my modest support to the kaldorei who have suffered so during this recent cataclysm.

The Docks at Rut'theran Village, Teldrassil