Halathulya

Feralas is a lonely place of wilds, with tiny isles of habitation like oasises in a desert. After leaving Feathermoon Hold with a list of tasks I've been asked to complete, I headed east again, into the southern part of the territory. My intention was to find the roaming grounds of the great mountain giants, and when their steps could be felt shaking the ground even though my saber's quick gait, I knew I was close.

I also located a tribe of Woodpaw Gnolls, and since I had been offered a fair sum of money to return their manes as proof of death, I collected a stack of them. They're dirty creatures, dull in their attacks and barely enough dexterity to swing the axes they seem so fond of. I don't understand how squatting around their campfires and gnawing on bones is the sum of their lives. It's so degrading to even think that they're sentient.

Just northwest of here are the Darkmist Ruins. While I'd normally avoid such a place, some idiot apprentice has gotten themselves lost there and I've been contracted to find them and, provided they are not dead, return them to Feathermoon. Estulan had the right idea: if young fools want to run off by themselves, let them get themselves out of trouble.

Though my opinions never did make me popular with others.

As I left the arid canvas of the Thousand Needles behind me, I thought I would be pleased to see the foliage the marked the beginning of Feralas. But no sooner had the docks of New Thalanaar come into view that I realized this would be no peaceful sojourn.

A detachment of Grimtotem tauren were attacking the settlement, and although the Sentinels were holding their ground, they were outnumbered.

It's truly a sight, the Sentinels in battle. One gets so used to seeing them standing at the pillars in places like Darnassus, or patrolling the roads of Teldrassil, or even manning the docks at Auberdine -- though not anymore, now they're at Lor'danel. When you see them in those places where their reputation is enough of a deterrent, it's easy to forget that they are and always will be the elite guard, their legendary worthiness even to Queen Azshara.

But Sentinels are not merely a reputation. Seeing them with their double blade swords, effortless and fluid as water... although I drew my blades upon the Grimtotem as well, I felt as though I were cheapening them. What help did they need from an outcast?

Yet when the last of the marauders fell, one of them looked at me and said, "Thank you, sister." as though I'd rendered some service instead of having stumbled into the battle when some of their number already lay dead in the grass.

Thank you, sister.

I had forgotten what that was like.

Last night I informed Captain Vimes that I'd be leaving Theramore. He bid me farewell but asked if I might preform one final task: to lay a wreath of flowers on the grave of James Hyal's family. Although I said I'd do so, I chose not to say that it was cheapening the act of it. True, I exacted retribution on their behalf upon the Grimtotem clan, but it wasn't out of any need for revenge that I felt.

Not even a moment after laying the offering on the grave, the very air stirred and two spirits formed there: a woman and a child. They thanked me for bringing them peace, though I wonder how much peace they're really at. The dead should stay dead, and I think it fortunate that it was not the frail mind of Hyal which came to lay that wreath.

I think I will miss Theramore just a little, despite its thoroughly human atmosphere. It's less pretentious here than in Stormwind or Menethil, and the people under the rule of the Lady Proudmoore are fortunate. I hope it stays this way, though with the growing Alliance presence in this part of Kalimdor, it may not for long.

Although my original intention was to head north, flying by gryphon to Felwood, I've been asked to report to New Thalanaar, in the east of Feralas. Apparently more Grimtotem fighting has broken out there.