Thodin’s Journal: 3rd Entry

Telaar,
Nagrand

There’s almost nothin’ more satisfyin’ than ogre huntin’.  It’s one of me favorite passtimes.  So you can imagine how excited I got when I heard that a town in Nagrand had an ogre problem.  If there’s one problem Thodin Steelhammer is good at solvin’, it’s the ogre problem.

Good ol’ Hemet Nessingwary told me ’bout the ogres and pointed me in the right direction.  Hemet and I go way back, t’was I who helped him slay a troublesome kitty in Stranglethorn Vale, so it was a mighty big pleasure to see him out here.  I helped him slaughter some of the local beasties (he sure does like to tell other people what to hunt, I’ll tell ye that) and then he sent me off to Telaar.  Not before giving me a present tho, his own gun.  A most generous dwarf, he is.

So I set off for Telaar and soon enough I was met by the local warden, Iolo (quite tha odd name, if ye ask me).  I’ve come across some of these “broken” before, both by words and by axe.  These ones, they call themselves the Kurenai, seem all right by me.  Apparently the brutes had been attacking Telaar for a a spell, and I was just what the witchdoctor ordered.  Iolo told me where I could find the ogres in question.  He also told me to save any warbeads I came across, somethin’ about he wanted me to prove my deeds.  Bah!  Did he not realize I’d be covered in their wretched stink, and that’d be proof enough?

A few days, gallons of ogre blood, and a few hundred of those warbeads later, I had solved Telaar’s ogre problem. 

If you can say anything about the Kurenai, say that they’re a grateful folk.  They gave me a new talbuk stag to ride, and not a moment too soon says I, for me trusty goat had definitely seen better days and was in for a break.  A mighty fine beast, the talbuk, by the way. 

If that wasn’t enough, they pronounced me an honorary Kurenai.  I can’t even try to pronounce the Kurenai word, but it translates to Ogresbane.

Has a nice ring to it, dontcha think?  Ogresbane, a powerful word be that.  They say me name will live on in legend with their people for generations.  That just warms a dwarf’s heart; damn near brings a tear to me eye.  Well, it’d bring a tear to me eye if mayhap I was one of them prissy night elves.  Bahahaha.  Hoo boy, ok.  Sorry ’bout that.  Haha.  Whooo…

Well, me friends, that’s all for now. 

Thodin’s Journal: 2nd Entry

Coilfang Reservior,
Just outside the “Steamvaults” entrance,
Zangarmarsh

Dwarf warriors and water do not mix, let that be known right now. Have’ya ever tried swimming while wearing nearly 100 pounds of plate armor and a shield on your back? It’s no easy task, I’ll tell ye that. It’s times like this when I really start to long for the warm, dry halls of Ironforge.

Aye, even the greatest adventurers tend to miss home from time to time. It feels like ages since I’ve felt the soft crunch of snow underfoot, laid me eyes upon the great peaks of Khaz Modan, or smelt the crisp clean air of the Loch…

Well, no time for dreaming. We’ve got naga to slay!

By Muradin’s beard! There’s a mana eel in my boot. Ugh.

Thodin’s Journal: 1st Entry

Sylvanaar,
Blade’s Edge Mountains

It’s about time I got this bloody thing to work.

Gnomes are known for their tinkerin’, not for their reliability, aye? I got this here Speak-o-tron 5000 from a gnome by the name’a Willie back in Ironforge before I ventured through the Dark Portal. You can always count on Willie “The Fence” to get you the latest and greatest, tell him Thodin sent ya. He told me it’s some kind of modified ethereal job; I had no idea what he was talking about (I usually don’t when gnomes get to goin’ on about their inventions).

Since then I’ve had a chance to meet some ethereals. I trust those space-mummies as much as I trust a murloc, and I don’t pretend to know how yon device works. All I do know is that I talk into this special mike’ro-fone and me words are sent through the nether onto what Willie called… The int… inter… interwebs. Or something. He mentioned something about tubes and ray-deoh waves, I dunno. Bottom line: what I say, somehow gets turned into words that you can see. And I like talkin’, so that works out for me.

Well now, you have no idea who I am. My apologies. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Thodin Steelhammer, son of Braudin, of the Bronzebeard (Ironforge) clan.  You can call me an adventurer, if you’d like. For that’s what I am. And a storyteller of sorts as well.

I’ve naught had the time to actually sit down and use this crazy contraption yet, but I’ve meant to. Until now I’ve been doin’ what we dwarves do best: having adventures and killing things. You see, I decided to venture into Outland to serve the Explorer’s League, the Alliance, and me own code of honor. I heard there was a war-torn land needed some able bodied dwarves, and I answered the call.

Now that I’ve attained the rank of 70 and fulfilled my military obligations, I may actually find some time to relax and collect me thoughts. It’ll be good to have an account of me travels. Lucky for you, you get to read ’em all.

That’ll be it for now. Me cousin Borgrim Stouthammer wants me to go find him some kind of strange brew. And he also mentioned something about ogres. I’m not one to pass up a good drink, and I love killin’ ogres. It’s a win win, as far as I can tell, aye?

P.S. Willie, if you read this, thank’s for lendin’ me your Speak-o-tron. It does work!