[Thassarian is in town, in one of the taverns, journal open on the table in front of him, a neglected drink in his hand.]

( Private. )

[The past month had been an exercise in patience ( Read more... )

[After spotting Arthas in town--and being able to do exactly nothing about it--Thassarian needs a moment to clear his head. He heads away, into a wooded area, not too far from town but just enough to be in the green. He can almost convince himself he is back home, here, with the moonlight shining through the trees ( Read more... )

[After spending some time reading through the strange journal that the castle provided for him, Thassarian gets...restless. He doesn't mind waiting, as long as he's waiting for something. This sitting about just won't do. He checks his armour and straps on his swords. After a moment's hesitation, he takes the journal with him, heads into the lobby ( Read more... )

[A pale, white-haired man, eyes glowing blue, is...suddenly here. He is wearing full armor and holding a sword in each hand. He pulls himself to a halt; it's as if he was wrenched away from a fight in mid-swing.]

What the--

[He lowers his swords a little and narrows his eyes. He notes the open journal at his feet and prods it curiously with the ( Read more... )