63rd Day of Spring
It took me almost a full day to pass through Dun Algaz, and when I say 'full day' I mean sunrise to sunrise; a full turn of the stars. I awoke suddenly yesterday morning to the sound of Orcs. They were near to my camp. At first I thought little of it until I noticed their unfamiliar accent. They didn't sound like any Orcs I'd ever met, as few as they may be.
Then I remembered some stories I'd heard in the inn the night before: Dragonmaw Orcs roamed these mountains, capturing dragon whelps like they did in the Second War. Still clinging to their past.
The Dragonmaw Orcs are a part of the Horde now, but I'd heard whispers that they couldn't be completely trusted, so rather than stick around to find out how friendly they were, I packed up my camp as quickly as I could, leapt onto Styric's back and rode away as fast as she could carry us.
Perhaps we were too fast, or too loud (stealth has never been my strong point), because before we'd travelled even fifteen feet there were Orcish shouts behind us.
Crossbow bolts shot past me, and a few hit my back and shoulder. I had gathered this armour for protection against the Alliance, but at this point they seemed more hospitable than races of my own affiliation!
They threw ropes and nets, likely used to catch dragon whelps, and began aiming at Styric when I refused to suffer injury. Just about everything missed - a full grown horse is likely somewhat faster than a dragon child - but at one point Styric's back legs did get tangled in a rope they'd thrown. I'll count the stars, I don't know how she did it, but this clever mare managed to get untangled in seconds and ran even faster afterwards.
We're clear of Dun Algaz now, and in the vicinity of Loch Modan. I don't feel too much safer here - a Kal'dorei isn't a Dwarf, afterall. But regardless of the time of day, and location, we both need to rest.
-- Atherya Sunleaf