((Introducing...!))

Overseer,

I wanted to inform you that Father Darkheart and I have arrived at Ghost Walker Post in Desolace without incident. I found Maurin Bonesplitter right away, working in one of the tents that comprise the Post, but he doesn't seem to have ever gotten the message regarding your request for samples, so it will be at least a few days until I can return with those. The delay is no inconvenience to us, though, as this place has proven as beneficial to my training as he promised. Much of the region is simply barren desert, but there are areas here where the Shadow seems almost tangible. These places tend to be overrun by demons, but that just gives me something on which to practice my marksmanship. I'm still not as good as I used to be, but I am steadily relearning. It'll be some time before I'm able to join my Dark Ranger sisters in Northrend, but I am focused on being ready to go there with our main forces. While Putrias and I wait we have offered our services to the Horde forces here, who as I'm sure you're aware are dealing with hostile centaur clans. Their concerns seem inane in the face of the Scourge threat, but it's not a bad place to cut my teeth, so to speak.

Alison's advice on maintaining this body has been sound so far, and as I write this I am sunning myself outside the Post. Hopefully the Tauren and Orcs and whatnot here aren't too scandalized by the display of pale dead skin. The beach in the nearby Troll village seems more appropriate, but I worry about the ocean air. Perhaps I'll write to her about it. It's starting to show some slight decomposition, but I'm hoping that developing my connection to the Shadow slows it to the rate of what any other Forsaken would experience. We have proven that it is, after all, simply mind and magic over matter. I have decided to have my face patched up when I return, could you tend to it if you have a spare moment? It doesn't have to match, I'm just concerned about rotting around the edges, and sometimes the loose bits fall into my vision when I'm trying to aim my bow.

The warlock Rivelli continued to be elusive up until my departure, and I apologize that I was not better able to track him. If he truly is a Scourge agent and not just a madman it's possible he has been away reporting to his masters. I will keep up as best I can from here. A man's greatest weakness, even a dead man, is often a woman's kindness, so a letter to him may be in order as well. I will keep you posted.

-Melana Stormlight

P.S - Remind me when I return to tell you about the companion I've found here. I know you're interested in magical creatures, but it would require a letter all its own.

The Tome has
Miss Alison has

I shouldn't feel put out that one of the forces entwined with the Tome of the Accursed has chosen to communicate with someone other than me. I've had enough trouble with the thing using me as a pawn to get where it wants to be. I'm sure it had some entirely valid reason to choose Miss Alison. Her link to the Shadow is strong, and she seems kind enough if it's simply a lonely spirit. I am of course concerned that it seems a bit pushy. I hope it wasn't a mistake to advise her to listen to it, if cautiously.

I would like to think if it was Overlord Ghrast he would speak to me first, or Plagos. All my attempts to communicate with it through the Master have been met with silence.

It had better not be C

Busy busy busy...

The Apothecarium has quieted down somewhat as we wait for more samples and initial test results from our scouts in Northrend, so I've been pouring myself instead into the tomes my husband has picked out as appropriate for someone at my level of study. Most of his tomes focus on demonology, which surprises me not at all. I suppose it is especially important to have a detailed knowledge of something you intend to enslave and command when it is something intelligent, though I would question whether that applies to the imp. Or the voidwalker. Perhaps the felhound will be smarter. I find myself not terribly interested in them myself. I'm more interested in the bits addressing more powerful fire magic than mages prefer to meddle with. It's enough that I have Curse under my command, I don't need a bunch of unruly demons as well. Not that it stopped Overlord Ghrast, or Plagos himself. Much of warlock magic seems to focus on control, and I feel like I'm in control of quite enough already.

I need to stop analyzing everything as a possible sign that I'm not meant for this kind of leadership. I'm doing fine.

We've been growing slowly but steadily, taking on a few others since Miss Alison. One is yet another elf, a banshee this time, though she's recently claimed a body and started training as a dark ranger. So another Special Case. There are rather few dark rangers left these days, so I'm not sure exactly who she's training under. The Dark Lady and Nathanos Blightcaller hardly have the time to take on students. I believe, however, that arrangements were made for her to train to some extent with the Farstriders in Silvermoon. I need to speak with Father Darkheart about the more Forsaken aspects of her training. It is my impression that dark rangers traditionally replace their lost link with nature with Shadow magic, and, despite all the warlocks in our ranks, I think he would be the best among us to teach her that. I'm sure she's familiar enough with the Shadow, she's not some fresh-risen thing, but having spoken to her I think she's hardly been out of the Undercity since the war, much less fought anything. Though Plagos says he's hardly been out of the Undercity as well. Perhaps we'll boot them both out of their complacence. We'll need all we can get when we start sending people north. I should also speak with Filippos regarding her unusual training, having been quel'dorei himself. Hopefully he'll be around for the meeting.

I have also been considering using her to check up on Miss Meganna, who I found out from the Deathguards has returned to serving in Silvermoon City. Nothing about Orloc has led me to suspect anything is wrong, but I'd like to keep track of her nonetheless. If the banshee is already traveling to Silvermoon for training it will arouse no suspicion.

Poor woman, she's only just joined and I'm using her as a workhorse. But I am more inclined to trust one of Sylvanas' own banshees than most of the Forsaken in our ranks. Not that I particularly distrust any of them, especially now that Orloc's creator has disappeared, but...I suppose what I'm really hoping for is someone who is loyal to me specifically, who will not try to undermine me or my authority. One who meets all those criteria and does not drip on themselves constantly and can understand commands more complicated than "Kill that man." Not to say that Orloc does not have his uses, but I have high hopes. She was sent to us with instructions to obey, after all. Though it would be nice if the powers that be would simply speak to us first instead of just sending their special projects to Brill for an interview. Or...whatever Varimathras expected when he sent his abomination to find us.

I have told the Executioner far too many times that he needs to learn to be civil to those under our command. I know I haven't a chance of convincing him that tact is something worth putting effort into, but I knew there would come a point where his simple, offhand cruelty would drive otherwise loyal Forsaken from our folds. Not to mention that Miss Audre seemed more often than not to be the only one who understood that the point hosting the Gallows was diplomacy and not using our allies as test subjects for our new poisons. If things carry on as they have, if I have to spend every evening there holding the rest of Curse back from gnawing on Tauren like starving, slavering curs without even one voice in my favor, I may have to simply give up on the idea of us comporting ourselves like civilized beings. I appreciate fresh meat as much as any of them, but I have the restraint to know who is an ally and who is an enemy. Do they really think we can stand against the Scourge alone, even with our plague? At least the Dark Lady knows the value of our alliances. Perhaps sharing that alone makes me the best choice to lead Curse after all.

At least Orloc tries.

Not that I don't feel special to be the only one in all of existence that can inspire kindness in my husband's cold, shriveled heart, but it would make my job so much easier if he could at least keep his cruelty towards everything else to himself.

I can only hope Miss Alison is half as good as Miss Audre was.

My own work for the Royal Apothecary Society has been wrapped up and absorbed into the whole, being accounted for in the overall design of our final Plague (or at least the first) which of course is being handled by Apothecary Faranell himself. Not that our research is by any means at an end, but it is why I am today away from the Undercity, curled up in a cozy corner of the Sepulcher with a handful of my husband's tomes. I seem to have been declared their resident expert on nerubians. This is lovely and all, and certainly a step up from where I stood with them just last year (not to mention the year before, when I last used Silverpine Forest as a training ground and was little more than the R.A.S.'s errand-girl), but it means my research has come to a standstill until our scouts can procure me a live sample or two from Northrend. Some have suggested that I use those Quiraji creatures from the south of Kalimdor, but while they are technically also intelligent insects, they are physiologically different. It would be like researching something meant for spiders on beetles, and what eats one away from the inside out may not reliably affect the other.

Not to say that I don't have some Quiraji projects simmering, as it were, but I have suddenly found myself with a great deal more free time than I've been accustomed to, and I have decided to return to nurturing the Shadow and demon magic my husband has graced me with. It was spurred, in part, by the return of that horrid imp after accidentally stepping into an abandoned summoning circle while gathering samples in the Plaguelands. I felt a sudden surge in my own power and nearly swooned, and next I knew the miserable thing was back, bouncing around and gibbering at me. It had likely been dying for a chance to get back to this plane and harass me further. It followed me around the Gallows until I finally got so sick of it that I mustered all the dark power at my disposal and banished it back to the Nether on my own. Plagos banished it for me last time, but this time he refused and insisted that I learn to control it. He's willing to guide me, but he wants me to ultimately embrace this power on my own. He seems both proud and worried. He wants me to be as strong as I can be, but he knows the dangers. He doesn't want to lose me to something so foolish as a catastrophically failed attempt to enslave a felhunter.

Thus far I have learned a few curses, perfected the art of draining souls from victims as the last of their life is burned from them, and enslaved a voidwalker that is far more obedient and useful than the imp. It is a struggle to rely so heavily on Shadow and curses when I could simply conjure a blast of fire that would immediately destroy whatever stood in my way, but I know it's for the best. I don't normally relish the suffering this kind of magic causes, but against humans who insist on laying claim to Lordaeron I enjoy it a bit too much. Silverpine holds a bit too much of all the wrong nostalgia for me, but the weight of Plagos' tomes in my bag and the demon at my side and the crackle of darkness at my fingertips keep me focused and make all that foolishness seem distant. I've kept away from the part of the shore where I lived with the last warrior I was foolish enough to trust with my heart. If I happened upon that place I would likely just burn it to have it behind me.

I'll be on to sharpening my claws on the farmers in Hillsbrad soon enough.

I do realize, on some intellectual level, that I shouldn't encourage my husband to be cruel. But self-control, apart from the most basic propriety, has never been a strong point of mine. It won't accomplish anything to tell him to be more civil and then immediately drag him home for rather energetic marital relations. I shouldn't be surprised that he would pick on poor Miss Audre so, though. He doesn't have a good history with warriors.

I have been so enveloped by my research that I have neglected this journal. My scientific notes have taken precedence over my personal ones. But there have been some things worth mentioning in both regards recently, and I feel a need again to write them out on paper.

There have been more reports back from Northrend. Some of the information has been approved for dissemination to those known to be loyal to the Dark Lady, such as those serving under the Executioner and myself. It is, after all, best if our people go prepared for what will stand between us and our ultimate vengeance. Our scouts have already contacted some natives who may be potential allies, though to be perfectly honest they sound like they would make better rations than reenforcements. There has been a consensus reached that the site of the scouts' initial camp, Vengeance Landing, will be reinforced and built up into a full-fledged outpost. It pains me that my work here keeps me from going to see it myself until the settlement is completed, but the reports have given us more information on where the focus of our research must lie. The rumors of living nerubians have been confirmed, and I am petitioning the returning scouts for samples to test. There have been reports of a surprisingly verdant and fertile valley, but sadly our scouts have not yet ventured there themselves to procure samples of the native flora for us. All in all the continent sounds rife with potential, and I can only hope we do not find ourselves distracted from our ultimate goal there. I am worried that such close proximity to the Lich King Himself may weaken us, but if it does, if more and more of us begin to hear His call in those northern lands, it is my hope that it will in turn strengthen our resolve to destroy him.

My latest concoction has finally come to a boil, so again I must put this book away in favor of my scientific notes. I will try to be more diligent, as there will certainly be much to speak of in the near future.

I have the best husband I could ever hope for.

Last night he gave me a ring bearing a a crystal made from part of his own soul like the one he has of mine. Now I'll always have that part of him with me, and if anything happens to him, I'll have it safe in my keeping. He is everything I could ever want, powerful and refined and...violent, as reluctant as I am to admit that that's become such an exciting thing for me. He is intelligent and well-educated, but not above tearing into anything that stands in his way and consuming its still-beating heart. I wonder if this is how orcs view their mates. And all that makes his love that much more precious, that he can hardly spare kindness for anyone but me. He makes me feel so incredibly, wonderfully special.

I should write more about my work, but first I need to get back to it. I will make a point to set aside time for that later.