68th Day of Spring
Loch Modan appeared pleasant enough, but I didn't have much time to look around. Dwarven sentries were on our tail from more or less the moment we began to ride on that first morning, and they chased us through the night. They were on us quickly, there must have been sentries near the border, patrolling against the Orcs, and some short fool sounded the alarm - whether at myself, or at some Orcs that may have followed me afterall, I don't know, but they pursued me right through the region. No matter; both Styric and I are unharmed. To my knowledge, they were only firing warning shots, and given that I didn't stop to engage them once, I don't think they'd have truly tried to kill me so soon.
They left us alone once we reached the southern border, which was fortunate, because I hadn't anticipated the enormous chasm which had opened up, I assume, during the Shattering. Styric was very hesitant to begin the descent, but I managed to ease her down with a few gentle words. It took us two hours to navigate the steep path, and I dismounted early on for the mare's sake. I admit that it was actually quite an exciting experience, walking through the earth which had been covered up for goodness knows how many millennia.
When we reached the summit of the path, though, I was shocked. I've never seen any such land that looks like this before. The landscape is so dry and arid, dust is stirred with every footstep, and th eonly life at first glance appears to be tough desert grass, cougers, coyotes and scavenger birds. But the life here, at least, is sparse due to the natural location, as opposed to anything caused by any superior race. The more I think about it, the more I believe I have been mentall scarred by the Plague's effects on the land.
I continued through the Badlands and found numerous Black Dragons. Theirs is a tragic story that I have real interest in, and one that probably could not have been avoided. Being the Aspect of the Earth, it is not surprising that Neltharion became corrupted by the Old Gods imprisoned beneath Azeroth.
I'm staying in a Goblin town called Fuselight, which is...well, they're a very odd race and I haven't slept too well since getting here. There are often random explosions throughout the night, always followed by cheers and a strange high-pitched horn, and each morning there are Goblins using goodness knows what to blast goats off of the cliff. It's a real wonder that any of them survive.
While I've been here, however, I have heard of a digsite nearby. I'm going to check it out soon - hopefully it will be more interesting than the digsite in the Wetlands.
-- Atherya Sunleaf