Kaste

I spoke today to Mazikeen, we stumbled upon each-other in Orgimmar, and we talked a while.  At one point it was brought up that she considered me a friend, and she wished I felt the same. I do, I suppose. She seems honest enough, and has made no attempts to gain anything at all from me, only to help. And the more I think of it, the more I start to wonder if perhaps I do have people who care in their own way.

Achates could very well be considered a “friend.” He seems willing to help me when I need help, even if he does make things worse . . . I’m told it’s the thought that counts. And he seems to . .  care. He even manages to help on the off chance, helping me here or there against some monsters or other various foes.

 Hadriaan, as well. He seems interested in finding out more about me, and being like me. He says he looks up to me, wants to be like me. He thinks I’m strong and powerful, cold and heartless. He wants to be like me. But he cares, and he can’t be what he finds me to be, the way I see it.

 Tarantula and Shadaria always are at my side, blades drawn. They fight with me always, defending me from harm, both mental and physical, and have saved my life on more than one occasion.
Maybe my allies are more than that, maybe they are “friends.”

Hadriaan and I had traveled into the Vale. He was insistent that he help me with several tasks I had left to finish there, and although he was a tad more of a burden than a help, I let him join me. My final task was to destroy a sea-monster for some half-drunk, bumbling pirate. Okay, easy enough.

I was wrong. We barely managed to slay the foul thing and it crushed nearly every rib in my body, quite painful, to say the least. Afterwards. . . Well, I guess I should start this off by saying I have a bit of a cold.

Afterwards, one of Hadriaan’s friends. . . friends? Agreed to help me save some sort of Tauren Princess. She was the most powerful Warlock I had ever seen. Well, I guess that isin’t to much seeing as how the only warlocks I know are Achates, who hides under desks. Ysabelle. . . she just, well, she’s horribly untrustworthy and emotional. And Ilu, who is emotional, and just -really- naive. Anyhow, yes. She is very powerful. And motherly. An undead warlock, who is motherly. She insisted I be taken back to her quarters and be wrapped in a blanket and to lay down, sipping chicken noodle soup all day! I finally managed to convince her to let me go, but she wants me to let her check up on me to make sure I’m not sick.

 Then, I ran out of painkillers. This was about the time I started talking to Mazikeen. She is good with bandages, it seems, and offered to help me. With a bit of insistence, she finally bandaged up my ribs, and didin’t expect anything in return. Odd. Perhaps. Perhaps she can be trusted, even if she is three things nobody should -ever- trust. An elf, a woman, and a rogue.