It’s been busy couple of days for Sruith: She has dinged 100, acquired the last two pieces of her mog, and acquired a snow fox kit. I think she has had an astounding week, and now gets to relax until she has to go hunting for an artifact weapon.
The mog, you may recall, was designed by Cymre, but I had to adjust it because I didn’t acquire some pieces before they weren’t available.
Pragmatic. We are taught from the time we are wee lads and lasses that the Light is hope. That it is a beacon of goodness. I never bothered much with the Light as a child, more interested in the pursuit of things I could see, feel, taste, and hear. The Light was too ephemeral.
Then I met the Prince of Stormwind, and somehow the Light emanated from him. His quiet manner matched my own, but where he is bright, I am dark. Black hair to his blonde. Bronzed skin to his pale complection. My sudden interest in the Light was not missed by the priests in Ironforge, and they tried in vain to convert me to the priesthood. It wasn’t until I heard a story in one of the Inns that I found my calling. It was a story of how Anduin had used his belief in the Light in a way I had never heard of. It had been a small trick, but the young priest whispered of the Shadow of the Light, and how even the brightest souls could use it when necessary.
I joined the priesthood, learned the skills of discipline and the holy gifts of the light, but I was not happy. When asked why, I realized the Light is not pragmatic. The Shadow, that is practical, and a means to an end if conducted with the disciplines the Light teaches us. In that moment, I learned to walk in the Shadow, and embrace its power.
I eagerly work toward the opportunity to go to this distant land I have heard of, adventure awaits me, and I will meet it practically, with the Light and its Shadow at my disposal. And the brash ways of Garrosh Hellscream will be brought to an end.