(This starts in the beginning of Legion so a Spoiler Warning for World of Warcraft Legion.)
Perfectia Dawnlights Diary Oct 8
First and the only offspring to be pulled vigorously out of my screaming mother’s womb twenty-two years ago, my grandfather explained to me that mother refused to let him know who the father was. Only that he had black hair and was magicless and if I was either of those things I would have been thrown into the ocean. But I’ve had an incredible amount of blonde hair on my head for a newborn, lucky me. I had to be taken to the sun well water which showed that I could potentially control magic when I got older, double lucky, yay me. I was told that my mother could not hold me until hours after my birth, so my mother didn’t think of a name because she wasn’t sure if I was going to be brought back, but the first thing that was said to my mother when I was brought back was, “You have a perfect high elf baby girl.” So I was named Perfectia Argento Dawnlight. And Argento because that was supposed to be my name if I was born a boy, my grandfather’s idea, and Dawnlight… Well, you know Elvin family names..
Dark story to tell an eight-year-old girl I know, but when I was favoring my grandfather over my mother, she wanted me to know exactly what kind of person he really was. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t all that great herself, he talked to people a certain way (aggressive and threatening) and he talked to me in a more guiding way, and I can only recall that he only lost his temper with me once.
So if you’re reading this for the first time, congratulations. You most likely killed me, I trust you enough to let you read it, I’m already dead, or you tortured me into submission. I don’t understand the details but the lock on this journal only comes open when I cast a healing spell on it. However, it’s not the only one of its kind, there are a few books in this paladin hall at the moment I’m writing this. I’m looking around and seeing lots of books from dead paladins from recent and long ago. A few paladins have books just like this one and the ones in this library are filled with spells, runes, drawings, notes, and logs of adventures. The books also have another function I thought was fascinating. When I look at another paladin reading these books on the shelves, they seem to always be in a language they can understand. I’ve literally seen the ink change forms into a foreign language when it was handed to someone else, except the profanity or curse words. Those always stay the same. Merdre, putain, zut alors, connard, va te faire foutre, did you catch that? No? Good. As of this moment I am writing in Thalassian, but I have no idea what language you’re reading it in. So if I manage not to lose it, maybe I’ll actually be important enough that someone actually put these pages into a printing press, but I doubt that.
If you’re a paladin in training and you found this book in a library to learn how to become a female achievement-oriented, drug-free, proper adult virgin…. No, put it back, then wash your hands. As of right now the Silver Hand has mostly been a male-dominated faction, so my advice. [is this:] wear a helmet that covers your entire face, temper rounded armor that hides your lady bits. If you get so angry that you’re about to cry, then that’s when you let them see your face. It terrifies everyone, but use it sparingly. It’s how I beat Illidan Stormrage when I was 15.
I’m not a virgin so if you’re looking at my corpse right now… Sorry. Maybe you’re reading this because you killed me and you hated me. Now you're rummaging through my stuff looking for some justification that I was a bad person and the world is better off. Well you’re going to love reading this, because I would kill me too, and go ahead spreading these words around like the clap for all I care. I use all kinds of double entendres that have labeled me a slut even when I was a virgin and I think gay people are just as good on the battlefield as straight people. Lastly, I am openly racist toward humans and extremely hateful toward mages.
Or maybe you found this book to be entertained, maybe you’ve heard me talk about the nuances of what I was saying or the way I was saying it or even my willingness to say it regardless of my choices, and something fundamentally resonated.
Is it strange that I feel my ascension into High Lord feels a little lackluster? With two thirds of Silver Hand dead and its leader killed by the Burning Legion. The Paladin order has gone from a formidable military force, to a book club, but put a woman in charge that will work twice as hard for as much as half as much as a man and we might be able to get this thing back on its feet.
I feel I need to explain the contents of that. The Burning Legion are demonic enemies that have been invading our lands for the past few decades, small groups of demons here and there trying to get citizens to join their cause, one that was wildly successful as a result of their unique recruitment process. However, The Burning Legions battle tactics are, well… It’s like they crave death, but not just any death. NOOOOOOOO, these idiots seem to have some kind of pool going on who can end their existence in the most avoidable way possible, and they just keep one upping each other. Since the fall of one of there main leaders Illidan Stormrage, the Burning Legion’s demons have been nothing but a polyp on my bunghole. Irritating, sure. Uncomfortable, absolutely. Horrifying to sexual partners and oftentimes a deal breaker? Definitely. But nothing that a doctor prescribed cream can’t take care of. Now they had finally sent a full scale invasion and they were spreading faster than chlamyd on a knob. Advanced space technology airships invading farms and small towns and (silver lining) temporarily stopped the fighting that was going on between the Horde and the Alliance. Well, most of it anyways. With demonic alien invaders on our doorstep we (as in the Horde) didn’t turn away any help, regardless of where it came from. The Alliance likely felt the same way.
Once we found out where the Burning Legion had established their main garrison, the Horde and the Alliance members sent a counter invasion to dismantle their main outpost on a place called The Broken Isles. It was a complete failure, you know that thing I just explained that the Burning Legion always does, by throwing bodies at a problem, well, we’re not very good at that either. Many key leaders died in the attempt, and few of us. Myself included, barely escaped with our lives. New leaders need to be established and that’s where I came in.
A 22 year old Blood Elf, young even for a human. In hindsight I should still be a child. I've lived off of “fel magic” for a long time during a part of my life and I think that it was the reason why I aged prematurely. I'm about 5'6, blonde hair, glowing green eyes, and my full name is Perfectia Argento Dawnlight and with that I’ll tell you I’m far from it. (Perfect that is. These parentheses are for morons that don’t understand sarcasm, metaphors, or world events, so you can skip them if you take my meaning.) Most of my kin have these round or almond shaped, doll-like faces. However, my chin and face are kind of square. Kind of like I'm starving because I can see these shades around my jawline that come down to each side of my chin. Also my lips are kind of thick, so kind of like an elf that just lost a boxing match and put makeup on to cover the bruises. But I don’t box, or even fight without a helmet, but that’s just my face all the time. I'm also... heavier than most elves. At one point I was well over 140 kilograms (or 310 lbs.) due to a depression I went through after the fall of the Lich King (I’ll get to that later), but I've brought it down to about 102 kilos but that's still heavy for an elf that is usually just over 45 for women and 70 for men. So thicker than the plot of this book… and sorry if that wasn’t funny.
But yes, if I’m not wearing special underwear and I try to run or even jog, my rear would hurt. Not like the muscles, but like the mass of my cheeks is too great and slaps around and pulls my skin and … basically sucks. I mean I can still function as an adventurer but I'm a little odd looking from the waist down compared to most women. Sometimes my kin will tell me in front of my face and sometimes behind my back, that I’m fat. Now if anyone ever told me that before, I would say that I don’t care about what people say or think about me, but I hate it that it almost always makes me run away and cry, oh, I’m such a girl and I hate it.
I had hip surgery about two years ago which is not very common. Usually wounds and even sometimes broken bones can be mended with magic but, because of the nature of the injury, I was bleeding internally, and they had to open me up and do things…
Silver lining, “My Bestie” Dr Olisarra removed all the stretch marks and scars from the folds of skin I used to have from the rapid weight loss and usually does touch ups whenever I come by. I don’t think it was her intention to make my cheeks and legs look like two bean bag chairs when I sit down, but it is hard for me to sit on most toilets. I know what you’re thinking, “If you're friends with a surgeon why don't you ask her to make your hips smaller?”
Because a reoccurring injury already happened when I tried to go back to ‘normal’ from a simple kick and Dr.Olisara made do with her promise in fixing me. These days I can take hits from swords, maces, falls, and dragons and also, I don’t think she really wants to. Every time I go in for a check up she always looks at me like I’m some kind of statue she sculpted herself, before offering some kind of cosmetic or performance enhancement surgery. So when I do take up her offer, for three to four weeks, I get high as a kite from anesthesia, eat ice cream, and get massages. Also, we get to hangout and she’s like, super cool, great dancer, over talkative, drinks a lot, beautiful soft singing voice but not the vocal range of an opera singer, but still lovely to listen to, and just fun to hang out with. Her lab and operational room is in Karazhan and there’s a lot of recreational stuff to do there. Then I come out a little stronger or in some cases a lot stronger and a little more trimmed, and I know my image it’s not what is trending beauty right now, but what I have works for me very effectively in combat. But let's get one thing straight, I'm single, but I’m trying not to be. I know that sounds desperate, but I know why I'm single. I think that's an important distinction to point out. In these times of war, who could think about a meaningful relationship, and I'm not sure if I'm willing to settle with anyone ugly, obnoxious, or toxic. I think I would rather be alone. I'm single because I'm emotionally exhausting. I will say I'm kinda cute, but not cute enough for how emotionally exhausting I am. I guess I could wear more makeup, learn how to walk in high heels. Maybe not read into every passive aggressive insult on my character.
Those are my options, but I don't think I'm going to do that. I guess I'll just hope another catastrophic invasion happens that wipes out 3/4 of the population and then I can focus on procreating on my back like a demonic brood-mother. Or I can just get a bunch of cats.
While I've been fighting the Burning Legion's armies and tackling their garrisons I've been talking to people, some people tell me detailed descriptive stories. Some I just basically interviewed and I guess I’ve found other people’s stories a bit inspiring, so I’ve decided I would take writing a lot more seriously. Make it part of my nightly routine. But seriously, give those stories a gander.
Also, if you thought I was going to put myself down as a… and I quote “I’m absolutely ordinary - well, except for bad things like all the near-death experiences and being so clumsy that I’m almost disabled.” End Quote. So you can self insert yourself into pages, I’m going to say… Sorry, and I get it, and I loved the Twilight Saga too, but this is about a big, fat, narcissistic, sour little girl, with a false sense of duty, and a serious case of daddy issues.
I've been a citizen and soldier of the Horde since I was 14, but my Common speech, the language of the majority of the Alliance is still pretty rusty from the last time I spoke it, and even my Orcish, the language of the Horde, I've had some tendencies to roll my 'R's and pronounce my TH's and F's with a Z sound. Also it was extremely difficult to pronounce H's for the first time, knowing full well when I hear the words ``Hello?” I’m going to be able to smell what you ate that day or if you haven’t brushed your teeth in a few days. What a great way for you Common speakers to make a great first impression. So I usually drop the H's whenever I'm speaking any language seeing that Thalassian is my native language. There was a time I spoke Common quite a bit and I think people found the accent endearing, but I will try to skip all the parts where people try to correct my speaking. Because these days, my tongue can't get the pronunciation of Common right, and I can only understand words and sentences that are present tense or singular. But admittedly a lot of things get lost in translation.
I didn't always want to become a paladin but it has its perks. Like, most people trust you, like outright. Even if I was going to steal something (or infiltrate), some people would just let you in the door if I could show them some healing magic or casted a blessing spell. I was born in Dawnstar Village where a lot of High Elf nobility lived because it was within walking distance of the Sunwell. The Sunwell was a foundation to all High Elf magic and within its waters was where most High Elves took not only power, but nourishment that kept them from growing old. I think my mother must have wanted me to be a mage since she was a mage herself. After her work led her to become more distant from our home, I think she just wanted me to behave, but that was unlikely. My time as a child was privileged, pampering, and overindulgent. I had no brothers or sisters, but I also didn't know who my father was either and he would always say that I was the only child he knew of. Slaves and servants tended to my needs but also my whims and desires, except for the attention of my mother or any mentions of who my father might be. My mother was also seven feet tall, High Elf and Vrykul which made her very undesirable for potential marriage prospects. In my whole life I've never told more than a handful of people about Dawnstar, or the noble house in which I grew up, or about my mother or grandfather.
People in my family generally didn't become paladins except to impress other nobles in grand tourney arenas. I don't remember any member of my family ever mentioning the Light other than something to be thankful for for good fortunes. Even though my parents weren't around a lot, I had aunts, uncles, cousins, and my grandfather, all of us having blonde hair and the word 'dawn' somewhere in our last name.
I suppose as the newly appointed Highlord of the Silver Hand, most people would much rather carry on with their fantasies that both of my parents were religious Light followers from a long line of priests and paladins, and I began my studies the moment I learned how to talk. But most people are idiots.
Very few believe in my noble birth and I suppose it never really mattered because I couldn't have inherited a title of baron or count like most of my cousins because I'm a bastard and a woman. Also, it doesn't really matter because Silvermoon isn't a kingdom anymore, since the Undead Invasion and the destruction of the Sunwell, the High Elf kingdom was dismantled. There are still people from noble lines and even direct blood ties to the King of Silvermoon, King Anasterian Sunstrider, but they are mostly business owners, ship traders, and guild leaders. So a little too far in between to have any levels of political power.
I guess I don't tell people about my noble birth because I don't really like the idea of being a noble bastard to a defeated kingdom, but I do remember how glamorous it was. So many visitors, food, and entertainment. Nothing like it is now. As I remember the people that were born and lived there in Dawnstar Village, they never had much reason to leave and not come back. So I guess you might be wondering how a royal bastard, foul mouthed, drug, alcohol, and mana addicted paladin, could end up as the leader of the Silver Hand?
Lack of guilt maybe? A lot of paladins take vows of celibacy, blood oaths to stay true to their religious values. What I think they forget is fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity. I didn't see the former highlord Tirion Fordragon very much, if anything, I barely knew him. I suppose if I wanted to see him I could have taken my dragon and flown to the Eastern Plaguelands and just waved to him, ask him how his day is going, or tell him he’s an arse. I imagine he would be busy training initiates in the way of the sword and the Light. After the fall of the Lich King his job seemed a little like he was getting ready for retirement. I would even call it peaceful in a sense. I learned the way of the sword and the Light from the Blood Knight Paladin Order, not the Silver Hand, or Argent Dawn, or Argent Crusade. So I’ve never had the pleasure of working under him and the only words he’s ever spoken to me directly was, “You can’t go.”
I’m speaking of Icecrown Citadel and the final campaign against the Lich King and at the time, this was one of the worst days of my life. You see, the Lich King, Arthas Menethil, was the man that invaded Silvermoon and corrupted our Sunwell. He was the reason why my kingdom was destroyed. I was eight years old at the time and as soon as I was strong enough to carry a sword I set out on my path of vengeance, retribution, and justice. I had fought long and hard to get to the culprits that had wronged my people, Illidan, Kael'Thas Sunstrider, and Athas was next. The main culprit that caused the fall of my people and so many countless lives and Tirion Fordragon, the leader I fought for since I came to Northrend, the continent Arthas was hiding. When we finally had him cornered like a rat, he just said no. And that depression I went through where I intentionally put on 70 kilos, well that was because I was trying to eat and drink myself to death, but I suppose it’s better to have a tight belt around your waist then to have it around your neck… And not sorry if that wasn’t funny.
But in the end, with his dying breath, he gave the Ashbringer to me, and I'm not sure why. If he had done this before he would still be alive. If he had given me this sword it would have been me that struck Arthas down, or I at least to be there when he died.
I guess I thought the title and ceremony would feel similar, but my life hasn’t really changed all that much. I guess on some level I was glad that Tirion Fordragon had died. When he was defeated by the Orc warlock Gul'Dan on the Broken Shore I was more concerned about the Ashbringer then I was the leader of the Argent Crusade. Having it has been extremely empowering. The damage I'm able to do with the Ashbringer has not only been extremely effective at dealing with the Legion minions, but also a lot of fun. It’s so light and yet able to move around other people's weapons as if it were heavy. Also able to burn demons, undead, and anything that comes into contact with it. I’ve seen the blade cut, burn, and cauterize enemies from even the slightest of touch.
I guess that answers my question from before, how I became the Highlord? I thought I became a paladin for truth, justice, and the will to protect people. But as it turns out I'm a paladin because I'm a product of mental illness and abuse. A broken, sociopathic, collection character defects. And now I'm greatly considering getting that cat.
I guess that’s what's been bothering me, now I have to take on more responsibility. Also, there's more members and races of the Alliance in the paladin order than there are races of the Horde, and that means having to treat them with some level of equality in both respect and opportunity. When before all I cared about was being put in front of a target and killing all the enemies that were in front of me, but the last thing I want to do is kill people; but it is something I want to do on a very short list of things to do.
For better or for worse I still spend the same amount of time getting ready to wake up, go to bed, and I think I make less than I used to. So from now on, I’m going to be nicer and treat people with the dignity, respect, and compassion they deserve. And if you guessed that was still hardly any, congratulations you won a cookie. I’ve decided with all the books of the Light I’ve read I would write one for myself. I'll just try to make the most of this.
This book I'm writing in was my mothers, I think my first entry is from.... jeeze... I was nine, so, 13 years ago? I explained how I survived the Undead Invasion from the Lich King Arthas. I had left it in Moonglade, a druid training ground, before me and my dad were teleported to Tempest Keep. Malfurion Stormrage had kept it in their library and gave it back to me when I came to Val’Sharah (The first druid training ground), he said, “A lot of powerful sorcerers have tried to get that book open, but nothing seemed to work. After a while we started wondering where it came from, but then we remembered when you and your father wanted us to teleport you back home. So when I found out that you were coming I wanted to give this back to you.”
They sent us to Tempest Keep, it was nice of them to keep it for so long, it was nice of Malfurion to bring it to me, but Tempest Keep was a living hell. Well, they didn't send us directly to Tempest Keep, we arrived in a place called Sylvanaar, a Night Elf settlement in the Blade Edge Mountains nearby. There were tensions that were starting with Blood Elves and Night Elves which made things uncomfortable. Things were better there when compared to the treatment I was given in Tempest Keep but the idea of going back to a life of nobility was something I really wanted. We had no idea what we were getting into when Night Elf Sentinels escorted us to Kael'thas Sunstrider's garrison of soldiers. As alarming as the atmosphere was in Tempest Keep. The thunder, the cold purple stone and dirt, I just kept thinking, "At least I'll finally be with my people."
Little did I know that my noble birth wouldn't hold any weight as I dreamed that it would. As when we finally met up with our people we were taken to the caves to work in the mines. Things were difficult to say the least.
There's a part of me that is just thinking, "Edit, edit, edit. How many of these sections are going to have harsh aggressive eraser marks and lines through my pen texts."
So, I took back my book from Malfurion and I couldn’t bring myself to thank them. I opened it up for them and showed him what was inside. A few journal entries when I was nine and a bunch of rune placement designs my mother had created when she was alive and as I made friends through my journeys on the Broken Isle I started asking about how they had gotten this far. It’s been kind of interesting to be honest. The stories people tell.
I’m still a Blood Knight and Blood Knight style is commonly referred to as the strongest of the Elven martial arts. Especially effective at disabling and destroying larger opponents. Its emphasis on speed and angled strikes to target weak points in armor. But there’s a flip side to it as well that would require one to use a blunt object or turn your sword upside down and beat someone with the butt of it. But this is a style for people that favor the use of a shield. Not really my forte regardless of what people say about my appearance. I find that the art provides a definitive tactical advantage, since it gives the practitioner the ability to analyze an opponent’s fighting style and retaliate accordingly. But I’ve found out that some added brute strength helps when you’re cornered by a hungry beast or even an opponent that fights with the same style you do. Crossing swords does happen more often than not and some opponents are surprised when they find out that I can in fact over power them.
The shield style, that’s a different story. The bases of the shield style are based on wrestling (At least from the Blood Knights perspective) and without weapons in practitioner's hands, punching with a closed fist, finger bending, eye gouging, kicking at the opponent’s chest or waist, and hair grabbing are among prohibited techniques. Also, especially effective at disabling and destroying larger opponents by using their own weight against them but in a confined space with a combination of gripping, pushing, thrusting, throwing, leg tripping, twist downs, and backwards body drops. Add a sword and strap a shield to their forearm and you have a seemingly small and frail looking elf that can easily topple and kill larger opponents all the while holding their ground, but I don’t really like practicing it. The practice movements are stiff and far from graceful. I need to wear tightly fitted clothing to practice it and while I can overpower most female opponents I fight unless I break the rule by stepping out of bounds, with men things are just awkward when they put their hands in places they shouldn’t (Mainly on my rear)
I get this look of disgust and sympathy from my kin like they just found out I’ve been wearing a false leg or arm when they see what I look like under my armor or touch a fatty part of my body. Women are more direct with the insults about how they feel sorry for my horse and statements like, “Oh, I thought she was wearing extra padding under her armor.” Did I mention I cry sometimes from statements like that? Yeah, so, I tend to stay away from the shield style.
So those are some of my strengths and flaws. Surgically enhanced super paladin but not just fat transfers, but intramuscularly injections to increase tissue density and decrease lactase recovery time. Thyroid implant containing growth hormone to boost recovery and growth of skeletal and muscle tissues. (I’m just reading my medical records at this point) Enchanted coral bone graft ossification?... onto skeletal structures to make bones virtually unbreakable. Retinal prosthesis (No idea, eye surgery to increase depth perception and field of vision) And… Alterational bio-electrical nerve transduction? Two to four troll shamans shocked my spine and said it would increase my reflexes.
If only someone could surgically enhance my mental state or increase the density of my ego that would probably be better, but if I wasn’t fighting, running, or training like my life depended on it, I think I would most likely have some kind of disabling medical issues or noticeably disturbing side effects. I think as the new Highlord, all I need to do is hire some talented people and get out of their way. Contrary to what most people believe, I don’t think being the Highlord involves me marching around, waving my arms, and chanting, “I am the Highlord! I am the Highlord!”
Let’s see if I can get this boat back to float or it goes down in an oil fire from stupid decisions I’ll make.
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