Morning of Day One
The preparations are being made. The troops are gathering. The rotten, putrid stench of charred flesh and burnt land fills the air so profusely I've almost been sick myself at least once today already. War is inevitable, and the invasion is starting.
The elapsed days have been burdensome for all and sundry, especially those with healing magic. All of us have been scrambling around Hyjal, restoring foliage, mending the sick and the wounded, whatever we can do to abettor the situation at hand. Fortuitously, I've been doing this gig for years so I'm good to go. Even though ol' Shan'do will probably coerce all his soldiers to succumb to a good night's rest before the invasion begins.
Earth Mother help me, my hands won't stop trembling, even as I pen these passages. I've never been so distressed about something in all my years. But the feelings aren't just solicitous, either. Its... Coalesced with anticipation, melancholy, and plenty of other emotions I can't quite place my finger on. Perhaps my body will calm after a quiet composure.
I will here cease the first chapter of my upcoming journey. However arduous or horrific or lethargic my experiences may be, I shall archive them all in this journal. From now forward, each entry will be recalling a past event as I so remember.
May the Earth Mother watch over you.
With much regard;
Mullioch.