Day One of the Second Year In The Warchief’s Charge
It has been a long, cold journey to Northrend…
Many of the soldiers on the journey with me have been severely frostbitten. A troll named Tar’jit fell asleep in the bottom of the zeppelin, never to awake. He had died of hypothermia.
I spoke with some of the other warriors in the Second Legion while we made the trip from Orgrimmar to Warsong Hold. One of them had been stationed in Dragonblight for a month before he’d been sent back to Kalimdor to be treated for wounds sustained while fighting at the Wrathgate. He spoke of the legendary empire of the undead Scourge, tales of behemoth spiders withering away from thousands of years of decay, and of the hated Lich King, Arthas.
He told many stories to those of us new to Northrend. Most were frightening tales, worse than any I had heard before. Nothing I had experienced during my tour of duty at Hellfire Peninsula one year previous would even come close to the horrors I was likely to encounter in Northrend.
Yet, there was one story of his that enchanted me… one that grabbed me…
This veteran named Gar’tok Bloodfist spun a tale of a steed, one that looked like a horse; the mounts humans ride. However, this beast was not normal. This beast was formed of stars and of constellations. It was made by The Titans; the Old Ones as the Oracles call them – the same beings that created the Iron Dwarves.
It is the legendary being known as Narvas, the beast that the constellation Celestianus is named after. The ethereal matter that constitutes this being can lift it up amongst the clouds with but two thrusts of its mighty wings. Gar’tok told me of a time he was on watch atop a cliff in Dragonblight, all alone, when Narvas flew beside him and alighted atop the rock where he stood sentry.
This Celestial Steed looked him in the eye as if beckoning him to follow. Gar’tok reached out to touch the majestic being, when suddenly he was struck by an arrow from one of the Lich King’s Sky Darkener regiments. Narvas whinnied loudly, as if mourning the loss of a friend.
As Gar’tok’s vision faded and death’s embrace came close, Narvas touched the crown of his head to Gar’tok’s heart. The last thing he remembers is a sudden flash of light.
No one but I believed Gar’tok’s story. The others dismissed it as a children’s fable, perhaps not wanting to believe it so as not to distract them from their duties. Whilst I lay here in the barrack of Warsong Hold as my lamp sputters from exhaustion, I wonder what one must feel like in the presence of Narvas.
The sky has faded to black long ago. It is now time to rest before I set out to Dragonblight.
Day Two of the Second Year in The Warchief’s Charge
I awoke to a blistering cold in the Borean Tundra. I am told it’s even colder in Dragonblight, where I will be deployed as a soldier at the Wrathgate.
I thought about Gar’tok’s story and decided it was fate that I was on the zeppelin with Gar’tok, that he told me of Narvas, and that the Horde Expedition has sent me to Dragonblight. Narvas will be mine. If on this journey I falter or despair, I need think only of the feeling of conquering that which is straight from the hands of the Titans, the strength I will show to the Warchief, and the honor I will bring to the Frostwolf Clan.
For now, I prepare for the long, hard trek on the back of a Wyvern to Dragonblight, to begin my deployment and to start a profound journey to conquer the stars themselves.
Day Four of the Second Year in The Warchief’s Charge
Finally, the long journey to Dragonblight ends with my arrival at Agmar’s Hammer.
It was a whole day flying atop one of the Taunka’s wyverns, in the blistering cold and howling winds. How any living thing survives here, I do not know. I grew up in the Alterac Mountains, as a boy trained to be a hunter my entire life. I have been exposed to cold the likes of which most do not know, but Northrend is proving to be worse than anything I have seen before. But I am here now, and I grow more and more anxious by the minute to see and tame Narvas for my own, and for the glory of the Frostwolf Clan. I am here to make them proud, and it is that which I will do.
I dreamed of Narvas while sleeping in a short break of travel during the venture here. I was trudging through snow in a land with which I am not familiar, with mountains as tall as those that are in the Blade’s Edge range in Outland. I was cold, and my wolf was beside me, tiring. I collapsed into the cold snow, feeling sadness and defeat.
I turned my head and looked towards the horizon. That is when I saw Narvas rise over a ridge and soar towards me. I pushed myself up on one knee and then reached out my hand to touch Narvas. I felt a warm presence pulsing through me and then I awoke suddenly, feeling as if I had been torn away from a good friend I had not seen in years.
The connection I already feel with Narvas puzzles and amazes me, and I don’t know how to express why or how these feelings of… companionship, I suppose would be the best way to describe it, have formed. I must leave now, as I am being summoned to the presence of my officer for assignment.
Day Five of the Second Year in The Warchief’s Charge
I have been deployed officially, as so many others, to the Wrathgate in the North of Dragonblight. The very place where Gar’tok saw Narvas on his fateful day. I don’t really consider it luck, as most everyone from Agmar’s Hammer is being assigned there, but my excitement raises every time I think about the dream I had with Narvas in that mysterious mountain range, and of the feeling that emanated through me when I made contact with the majestic beast.
I’m scared to be going to the Wrathgate – I will admit it. Yet, I am driven by the promise of glory that will come when I tame Narvas for my own.
I am deployed here in Northrend for my skills in survival, in cold; as a Frostwolf clansmen and a hunter no less. No other class of warrior in Azeroth could tame Narvas, and it is for this ability that I chose the life of a hunter in the first place. When I arrive, I know, somehow, that Narvas will find me. I can’t answer why such strong conviction on the subject has been built in me, but by the will of whatever beings hold command over such a beast, I have been chosen, and my dreams tell me so.
When I arrive, I will stand watch for Narvas, confident in my cause. I will not falter until I ride upon his back.
Day Eight of the Second Year in The Warchief’s Charge
I have seen him, I have seen Narvas!
I write this by the light of the moon, in the tent for the injured a mile behind the line; the image of Narvas still running through my head, the spectral silhouette engrained in my memory like the outline of the sun when one stares into its light for too long.
I had been amongst the rest of my battalion, waiting for the order to fire, when the same type of cursed arrow that struck Gar’tok seethed into me, square in my shoulder. I fell to the ground, feeling a burst of pain the likes of which I had never known. As more arrows rained down upon my fellow fighters, I struggled to pull myself to a trench about twenty feet away from where I was laying. I finally managed to heave myself to the bottom of the trench, where I sat, feeling the warm stream of blood trickle over my arm, the flow quickening with every heartbeat. I thought for certain I would die, here, on this lonely field of shattered arrows and blades, when I saw the glint of a star in the distance. Immediately I knew that Narvas approached me, to help me as he did Gar’tok.
Light pulsed from the body of Narvas, just as it was described in legendary stories of the Titans. A warm orb of yellow light surrounded me while laying in that trench, no other living being around me. I felt the weight of my troubles and fear lift from my shoulders, and I felt my wound healing, as if it was mud reforming after the impact of a shovel. I was released from the orb, and set gently upon the cold ground.
Narvas sighed deeply, sounding exhausted, and looked me in the eye, as if hoping to be certain I would survive. My vision faded, and I pictured Narvas flying away, gone from the battle that raged below the moon.
I woke up here, in the tent designated for the injured and sick; my wound completely healed, but still with a great feeling of fatigue all about me, fatigue of war and blood and a feeling of the strongest will to fly away atop Narvas and leave this evil place. Tonight, on that battlefield, Narvas proved to me that I have been chosen to tame him, to befriend that wild steed. My eyelids are heavy on my face, and I will rest assured I will be with Narvas soon enough.
My pursuit begins in the morrow.
Day 1 in Pursuit of Narvas
Today, I have left the Wrathgate to find Narvas. Last night I saw a fleeting image of him flying away towards the east. I went quickly to the navigation tent and gathered maps of Northrend. I then went straight to the stables and took my timber wolf, Gash’mock, to begin my ride.
I write this from a location near to the east side of Dragonblight. The journey here was treacherous. I crossed the open tundra that is filled with mammoths, dragons, and creatures the likes of which I have never seen.
But, I crossed without question as I caught glimpses of Narvas passing over me, as if leading me to a meeting place. The journey to find him will be long and hard, and I don’t understand why he has saved my life; a gift that has earned my undying gratitude, only to test me as he does. I must go before I lose track of Narvas, for now I cross into the Grizzly Hills.
Day 3 in Pursuit of Narvas
I write this in the early morning of the third day of my pursuit for Narvas, exhausted, and frustrated. I almost captured Narvas – I was so close.
I chased him all across the tundra of Dragonblight and into the forest, only to lose sight of him. I saw him after a time and chased him into the Grizzly Hills; a land that I have only heard of from veterans at the Wrathgate. Gash’mock and I ran through forests of huge pine trees, avoiding savage trolls, wild wolves, and (dun, dun, dun…!) Night Elves (screams echo across the internets)*.
*Sorry Huugg, but every time I read that bit, I just couldn’t help but laugh. I had to insert those ad-libs in parentheses. I couldn’t help myself. 😉 -Gar
The perils were great. Many times I had to fight off the wild beasts here, risking the loss of Narvas. But I managed to pursue him to the top of Grizzlemaw, where he finally landed.
I climbed to the top and found Narvas standing there, looking at me, as if taunting me. I slowly approached him, as Gash’mock remained still, yet on the alert. I reached my hand out to Narvas and had come within a shadow of touching him, when he blew a gust of wind at me with his wings and flew off towards the north.
I teetered over the edge of what would surely be my demise, should I fall into the Heart of Grizzlemaw. Then with one great gust of wind, as if the elements were trying to finish me off, I fell. I closed my eyes, with a firm belief my end was near, when I heard a loud roar, and felt my leather tunic tighten around me as it was pulled from the back. I heard Gash’mock’s claws skittering as he tried to dig them into the wood, and began to walk backwards and tug me atop the broken tree once again. I lay on that tree, exhausted, for a time, then eventually made my way down it to where I lay now.
If not for Gash’mock, I surely would have been dead already, and would certainly have died today. However, I am still alive – frustrated but not defeated.
I head north after I rest, knowing Narvas will have no place to run as we reach the Storm Peaks.
Day 4 in Pursuit of Narvas
This will be a brief entry, as I stop in Zul’Drak at the Argent Stand. I have only seen Narvas once on my ride up here, and I am planning my travel on a mere hope, or unfathomable belief that I will find Narvas in the Storm Peaks. I don’t know what they look like, but as I think of the name, and of the dream I had in what seems like so many nights ago, I grow more and more sure with each minute that I am destined to meet Narvas there. I must go, for Narvas will not wait for a mortal so they may write in their journal.
Narvas is like time… time waits for no one.
Day 10 in Pursuit of Narvas
I have all but given up on my pursuit for Narvas. I have not been able to write in six days, as I have climbed to the top of mountains, only to go down them again into another valley, to climb a mountain, to go down it… The repetitive monotony has tired me to the marrow of my bones, as the cold slowly eats away at my will. Gash’mock is the only thing keeping me alive anymore, and the look he gives me, as if willing me on, has kept me steadfast up until now.
But, I cannot go on. I am too tired, and my soul has withered from exhaustion.
I write this, feeling a panic to get out what I must say; I have no doubt that this will be my last entry in this journal. I do not feel fear of death, as I did before. As the cold takes me, and I collapse into the snow, I will fall asleep and let myself go. I see the light coming towards me, and I feel now I should reach to it, and let myself be taken.
As I feel myself drifting, my mind fading in and out of consciousness, I grow aware of a presence below me, carrying me. I look about and see the soft glow of stars all around me. I picture myself on the venture to the Heavens as I start to recall faint specters of my past. I look around me, once more, and sense the presence of an ethereal being, just as I remember from my dream so long ago.
In that dream, I collapsed into the snow, and saw Narvas flying towards me. I reached out to touch him, there was a flash of light, and the dream was over. I smile as I realize what has truly happened; not a death, but a rebirth, and my mind fades to black once more.
The Final Entry
I write this, warm, and safe, upon the back of Narvas. The feeling of happiness… of peace that surrounds me, is indescribable. My dream, in the mountains, so many, many nights ago, came true. Exactly when I had lost hope, when I fell in the snow, I reached for the light I saw approaching me over the nearest ridge. I assumed it was an elemental being, coming to take me from the world of the living, but alas it was Narvas, moving towards me; my dedication to him proven.
I know now why he led me to the edge of death. It was because, as a mortal, becoming the companion to a child of the Titans is the ultimate honor; the ultimate sacrifice by the Old Ones. Why I was chosen, I still do not know, but as a vassal of Narvas, I will move on to great things. I do not call myself the master of Narvas, as, in retrospect, I was led by him across Northrend, over mountains, through forests, and to the point of such exhaustion that I was prepared to meet death. Yet, I now know that it was a worthy cause.
As I travel back to the Alterac Mountains to be with the Frostwolves again, I know I have made them, and more importantly myself, proud.
This will be my final entry.
I am at peace.