Feeling raw and exposed

As you can clearly see from my blog and my Twitter posts, I'm a regular drinker. Usually I drink socially, in celebration of an event, or for other upbeat, positive reasons. When I get inebriated, I'm usually a happy, flirtatious, outgoing person.

Last night, I was drinking for the wrong reason, and I feel I owe an apology and an explanation. I was drinking because I was in a bad mood, and while I had no intention to become completely sloshed, it happened anyway. That's usually not a good combination.

Yesterday was rough. There are rumors going around of what is going to happen in the upcoming months. Some things are obvious: we're preparing to strike at the Lich King in Icecrown. Being Harvest Festival when we are honoring our fallen heroes, it's impossible to face the fact that we're going to war and many people will not be returning home.

But there are also rumors--prophecies of what will happen at Icecrown and beyond. Some of the oracles who have had these visions are more trustworthy than others, but what they report is disturbing beyond words.

Thrall will take his leave as leader of the Horde. Some say he will have a Wrynn-like experience where he is kidnapped and found suffering amnesia. But even after his identity is revealed, he won't be coming back as leader of the Horde.

Garrosh will be taking his place, and one of his moves will be against Cairne Bloodhoof...possibly even leading to Cairne's assassination.

The Trolls, Forsaken, and my own people will be removed from the center of Orgrimmar. While I know we can handle ourselves on the other continent in the Eastern Kingdoms, what does this mean of Vol'jin? Will he and his people get their lands back? Will they go willingly? Or, after having been Thrall's right-hand-man for so long, will VJ be exiled away? How will he take it?

And Sylvanas.... Fighting in Icecrown will happen. I know her. I know she'll want to be there. If she cannot make the killing blow herself, she will want to be present when the Lich King falls. This makes me worry, as she has an attitude of "He will die. And if I die, I will take him with me." She is that determined. Some prophets are predicting she won't return.

I know...so much of this is rumor, supposition, and possibly simply the hallucinations of madmen. There have been no predictions as to what will happen to me, but at this point I don't care. When people predict all your friends will be dead or missing, the world suddenly feels very scary and very very lonely.

If I wasn't feeling bitter enough, I accidentally said some things to the Boss Lady and triggered her own melancholy. She disappeared for the most part of the day, allegedly lamenting her death and the fall of Quel'Thalas. I know she takes it as a "failure" and that eats at her every day. But if I hadn't...no, Dar'Khan would have conned someone else, but even still...

Sylvie, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. I'm so sorry.

So I did what any man could do with his bitterness and guilt and anger and despair: I bottled it up, went to Winterspring with Lady Dawnrise and her friend, and took out my frustrations in a killing spree of hostile beings. If I couldn't protect my home or people, and can't protect my friends in the future, at least for now, I could protect a few who are so dear to me.

The excursion helped. The emotional aspect of those memories were vented in physical activity. The memories pushed back down and re-bottled as I reveled in the here-and-now. But it was a fragile suppression, as I returned home to many frantic notes and messengers about the Dark Lady missing without a trace. She returned about the same time I did, and we reassured everyone she could take care of herself. She and I spoke a little. And she said to me, "I think all this talk of the future has had a sobering effect on all of us, even someone as cranky as @blightcaller."

Sobering effect. At that point, that was the last thing I wanted. So I sent a message to Thrall I would be in Orgrimmar soon. Brewfest was still going on, and I needed a drink or ten.

Mind you, I had no intention of getting as smashed as I did, but as soon as I arrived a large platoon of Dark Iron Dwarves showed up too. Instinct struck as I saw them kicking festival goers out of the way, and I had to protect them. But my weapons did little good against them. It hurt to watch this invasion and feel so helpless...again.

Then an orc at Drohn's Distillery, pushed a stein in my hand and said, "Liquid courage." I watched as he chugged his drink and threw the mug at an approaching dwarf, striking the dwarf squarely on the head and knocking it out. I followed suit, rapidly chugging and flinging as mugs of various brews were continuously put into my hands.

It was over in minutes, but it felt like hours. And by the time I reconnected with my friends, I was sloshed. At least I had a victory I could claim, but...no one else had been there. No one else could celebrate with me. No one else would, as they all had their reasons to remain sober for the night. I don't even know if Thrall showed up. He probably got side-tracked by another emergency.

I was trying to protect them...

So much for suppressing those feelings through some social interaction and drinking just enough to relax. Instead, all those emotions from before were magnified.

Even worse, the Prophet Velen showed up and saw me in this state. Great. Admittedly, in my inebriated state, I mistook some of his comments for veiled insults and lashed out in kind. I felt isolated at that point, and hyper-sensitive to disapproval of my behavior in public. It was not my best moment.

Luisette, may the Well bless her, escorted me home and took care of me in ways she has become very skilled. She complained this morning of lower back pain, and Sylvanas suggested it might have occurred to something she did to me overnight. Perhaps. Or perhaps it was from when I woke up in the middle of the night, practically crushing her against me, my tears slipping into her hair. I had been dreaming of losing my friends, and could not bear losing another. Not her.

Perhaps I should be relieved that she was still there in the morning. Perhaps I should be relieved my friends and fellow leaders were still around too. Hangover aside, I still feel bitter. Bitter and angry and apprehensive. I am worried for my friends, and worried what it could all mean for my people. I know that I have been ranked as #6 on the "Better Warchief than Garrosh Hellscream" list, with Hogger edging me down from the other present-day leaders (and Saurfang). I don't care. I wouldn't want the job.

Under normal circumstances, elves live long lives. I just want to know that I have many more years left where I will be able to drink and laugh and enjoy the company of my friends.

At this moment I'm grasping desperately for any reason to relax and laugh at all.

Winter Veil Wish List - Part 2

The other day I posted my wish list. Since then, it turns out that one of my wishes has already been granted. It wasn't Christie Golden, but another talented scribe who submitted some information about me to our grand overlords at Blizzard. Said scribe embellished a little (as scribes are wont to do), but otherwise managed to document that time period between the recapture of the Isle of Quel'Danas and the expedition to Northrend perfectly. Amongst other things, they grasped my unwillingness to be called "king" despite the deserved promotion beyond "regent," the reasons I show some animosity toward Rommath (and yes, I do pity him at the same time), my desire for peace with the Quel'dorei, and the dawning realization that I must tread carefully to not follow Kael'thas's path of leadership.

And the scribe won a contest on my behalf.

Well, I'm glad more is now known about me. However, those particular days expose many raw emotions. I've read it over and over again, feeling old wounds reopen. It is the mark of a good scribe to be able to extract the same feelings no matter how many times we've read his/her work. The reason I try to keep this journal rather light-hearted and cover other subjects is because I don't wish to burden others with those problems they do not need to see. But once in a while, it is good that the audience understands what their leaders go through.

For that reason, I highly recommend giving it a read. Remember, while it is based on my own experiences, it was another scribe who completed the work and submitted it.

I need to find him and give him a promotion.

As to the subject of this post, since one of my wishes has now come true (although I was hoping for more of a biography so people would STOP claiming a relation to me that simply does NOT exist), I must now come up with a replacement.

I now ask Greatfather Winter a request on behalf of my people:

In neutral cities such and Dalaran and Shattrath, I would like the merchants, bankers, and other townspeople to also observe neutrality, lest my people begin to pull their support and protection. I've had numerous complaints that upon concluding business with Horde races, the townspeople often make the parting comment "For the Alliance!"

No. Just no.

I know the townsfolk have their loyalties too, but they are alienating those who would otherwise gladly help them. So in the spirit of diplomacy, I ask Greatfather Winter to make them see the folly of bias in neutral territory. My people go to Dalaran because they must. It's bad enough that they willingly go in and defend the Violet Hold knowing that is where their Prince, friends, and family members were driven to join the naga and Illidan in order to survive. But then to be told "for the Alliance!" when all they want to do is a simple banking transaction? After all they've been through such treatment is a slap in the face.

I'm not even asking for members of the Horde to find employment in the main part of Dalaran, forcing out those who already have an established livelihood there. Just requesting some conscious effort on the part of the townsfolk to remember that half the people supporting their economy and protection are not "for" the Alliance at all.

A Day in the Life...

There's no such thing as a "typical day" when you're leader of the Sin'dorei. But if there was, it would probably go something like this:

6 am-6:30 am: Wake up. Mana tap whoever woke me up. Sleep for 15 more minutes. Finally get up and get ready.
6:30 am-7:30 am: Morning workout. I might be a government pencil-pusher, but I need to stay in shape for when the Alliance come calling.
7:30 am-8 am: Shower, get dressed, get to the "office." Dispatch couriers if there's anything to report to the other leaders.
8 am-8:30 am: Breakfast while getting the latest news from the couriers arriving from the Undercity, Orgrimmar, and Thunder Bluff (usually in that order).
8:30 am-9 am: Respond and dispatch further couriers.
9 am-11 am: Attend to business.
Note: Around 11 am, Halduron usually cracks from his normal calm state and discussions with Rommath begin to accelerate to argument level. We have about a 30-minute enrage timer before he starts throwing fists.
11:30 am-noon: Short break, visit to the priests to attend to bloody noses, time to stretch and calm down.
Noon-1 pm: Lunch, and receiving more couriers from the other Horde cities.
1 pm-3 pm: Receiving citizens and adventurers, checking in on Twitteroth.
3 pm-5 pm: Back to business with Rommath and Halduron.
5 pm-6 pm: Stopping another fight between those two. Receiving and dispatching more couriers to the other cities.
6 pm-8 pm: Paperwork. Dinner is usually taken at my desk. Check in on Twitteroth as I can.
8 pm-9 pm: Clean up from any Alliance raids that might have come through during the day. At this point, they're usually raiding Naxxramas or Ulduar.
9 pm-midnight: This is my "me time." However, it usually involves people running in around 10:30 with documents they need me to review and sign (approval or rejection) before midnight. From time to time I grab Thrall and/or Cairne to escape our duties for a bit. Doesn't always happen. And sometimes I end up crashing out at 8:59, only to wake up at 6:31 the next morning.

The most common topic of debate lately has been the recent influx of Blood Elf Death Knights and where to house them. When the Scourge invaded and Silvermoon was razed, we lost the majority of our people. Rommath did help rebuild the city to house our significantly smaller numbers, with some room for growth. Little did we expect that so many of our people would be raised as Death Knights, and then break free of the Lich King. We probably should have expected it...after all, he was there to turn our people into a meat market for his own purposes. Clearly he didn't understand the will of the Sin'dorei.

Well, now we suddenly have these Death Knights returning home, and we have no place to house them. This is a major contributing factor to Halduron's temper toward Rommath of late...and admittedly, my own.

This all said, again, there's no such thing as a "regular day."

I need a vacation.

*siiiiiiiiiiiigh*

After a while, you get used to it.

On the plus side, at least people won't remember a name to put my mistakes to either.

Better to be "oh yeah, that guy" than the butchering Liadrin's name goes through.

An Introduction

I suppose that I should also explain a little bit about who I am before going any further.

My name is Lor'themar Theron.

I am the Regent Lord of Silvermoon City, Quel'Thalas.

If you had asked me as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up, this is probably not what I would have said. I became a Ranger. I worked for Lady Sylvanas Windrunner. Eventually I became her second-in-command. After she and King Anasterian fell during the Third War, I suppose I merely expected to take up her position as Ranger-General (although I knew my friend, Halduron Brightwing, was also a candidate), and Prince Kael'thas would assume the throne. But as you know from the history books: the government was in a questionable situation, Kael'thas went to help the Alliance to uphold his father's vow, and somehow I ended up as Regent Lord.

It hasn't been easy. Taking the job meant being under constant scrutiny. There's a huge difference between having leadership fall into your lap during a time of political chaos, and being groomed for the job as a prince during a time of (relative) peace. I'm not the Prince. There are statues in every doorway, and the arcane guardians used to be programmed to speak Kael'thas's name; a not-so-subtle reminder every time I leave Sunfury Spire. When Grand Magister Rommath came back from their jaunt in Outland to tell us about "Paradise," he assured our people that the Prince would return. My days as regent were to be limited, but I was determined to make them as prosperous as possible.

Suffering betrayal time and time again, I turned to my former boss: Sylvanas Windrunner. I admit being hot-headed upon learning of her resurrection and "freedom" from the Lich King's control. Originally, I wanted to hunt her down before another trusted comrade could betray us again. Yet I learned that some loyalties remain true beyond death. And so I eventually sought her out. She had become a member of the Horde--the new Horde, mind--and lobbied on the behalf of the Sin'dorei people for our inclusion. It was a humbling moment to know that many of our people would not be pleased with this arrangement, but we would not likely survive otherwise.

Prince Kael'thas did indeed return. Once again, we were betrayed from within. We have since renounced him, but his statues remain and I am still called regent. I can live with this arrangement. It is a reminder that I earned the position rather than inherited it by way of a bloodline.

Halduron has continued to be a good friend and strong leader. His appointment by the Farstriders as Ranger-General, Sylvanas's successor, was well-deserved. Rommath also holds a position of honor, and none will forget his efforts in rebuilding Silvermoon when he returned. I do question his loyalties on occasion, especially considering the relative ease with which Kael's forces were able to re-enter the city and steal back the naaru, M'uru. Lady Liadrin of the Blood Knight Order has done her part in Shattrath, establishing diplomatic ties with the naaru, A'dal.

All in all, we seem like a rather motley crew governing our people. But we all do what we must in order to survive. I spend my days negotiating with the Horde leaders and mediating between Halduron and Rommath when they butt heads. It's not quite the "freedom" I once enojoyed in the Ranger Corps, protecting the borders of Quel'Thalas from intrusion, but it is a job of protecting our home in a broader sense of the term.

At night I tend to fiddle with the Netherbox, and usually spend some time posting to Twitter. Thrall and I have become fairly close friends, and there are several others I chat with on a regular basis, including a few Alliance who actually are very nice. I admit, I tend to be shamelessly flirtatious (yes, with both men and women--but I refuse to admit my ultimate preference) even though my position of authority does not allow for much beyond flirtation right now. It sometimes gets me into trouble, but please understand: I'm a former Ranger who's cooped up in a building. We've been at war for so long that I believe we should enjoy some of the few pleasures we have granted to us. "Work hard, play hard" is one of my philosophies...the other being "Death before dishonor."

So if I flirt, I do so only with noble intentions. If I declare war, it is in defense of my people. I know I have some hedonistic tendencies: I enjoy good food, good drink, good company, and good comfort, but ALL in moderation. I enjoyed a simpler life during my Ranger days, and have experienced the excess of nobility. I prefer striking a respectable balance. I have ruthlessly slaughtered enemies, and have cut down friends who were raised before me as Scourge. I am good at keeping secrets. I often cry when I hear Lady Sylvanas sing. I tolerate Thrall's pet names. I will brazenly give Medivh a hard time (but only because I like the old coot). I swear I'm not mana-addicted (thank you, Cadistra! >.<). I just miss my mana tap.

Hopefully that gives you, dear readers, a little bit of insight to who I am. This journal should fill in the rest.