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Ah, it's good to be back in the big city. I've been doing so much running around I haven't had much time to return to home. But now, back in Orgrimmar, with the smell of sweat and oil filling my nose, I'm glad to be home. Call me crazy, but the smell of sweaty orcs and burning oil has grown on me. When I smell them together, it really makes me think of home, right here in good ol' Orgrimmar.

Subject “H”

Warning: This post contains spoilers of 5.4, and the culmination of the story that the Dark Caste has worked on for almost a year and a half. Do not read if you are in the Warpath, or you want to find out the old fashioned way what happens in the next patch.

Venn smoothed out a page in front of him and dipped his pen into the black inkwell.

Confessor Morthorn hadn’t been expecting anyone in the chapel that afternoon. In truth, it was generous to call it a chapel at all, as it was hardly bigger than a broom closet. In the years past, it had actually been a gardening-shed, tucked into the brush behind the inn, now overgrown with twining thorns.

* Yesterday afternoon we took dragonhawks out to the little orc village in Blade’s Edge. I don’t know that “village” is the proper term, it was a jumble of mud huts and bad smells. Enormous, fly-ridden animals roam freely around the area, leaving their mess wherever it pleases them. I’m appalled at the thought of staying here for minutes, let alone overnight. I really should practice my portals more, but at least Vallindra will be here to provide one.

I guess I was more tired last night than I thought, from practice and everything else. I must have fallen asleep on the couch because when I woke up, I’d missed dinner and it was pretty late in the evening. But Aeramin brought me home some food, he even got extra of the spicy vegetables. I really need to find out what those are called! I wonder if they are hard to grow.