Copy of Weathered Diary - Dates from the Third War

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  • Copy of Weathered Diary - Dates from the Third War
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Love is in the Air
The subject of this article or section is part of Love is in the Air, a seasonal event that lasts two weeks. Once the event has run its course, this will no longer be available until next year, but there are no guarantees.

Copy of Weathered Diary - Dates from the Third War is a copy of the Weathered Diary - Dates from the Third War in Dalaran. It is looted from the Historic Lore Books on the relaxing areas at Southfury River in the Northern Barrens and at Olivia's Pond in Stormwind City during Love is in the Air.

Contents

Copy of Weathered Diary - Dates from the Third War

Entry 1

Before I could understand what was happening, the devastation was upon us. The ground trembled and our fair spire, which had stood citadel over Dalaran since the Second War, shattered.

I remember screaming as my father's face disappeared behind the tumbling scaffolding, but I heard nothing. Even in my terror, I thought of my magical training. If I could only slow this disaster-but the spells died within me. Traces of demonic power barred my efforts. There was no hope. I closed my eyes and waited. But somehow, I am still here.


Entry 2

The wreckage shifted for hours. I was certain each new thundering tremor would finally end it. Instead, I remain huddled beneath an archway that had once framed our view of the bustling market streets. How many times had I seen my sister returning from there, her arms loaded with goods? Now only dust and stone stand before me.


Entry 4

I must believe in the Kirin Tor. The great mages of Dalaran would not desert their people. This rubble that imprisons me is no more than a trifle to a skilled spellcaster. I will be saved, and one day, I will finish my training and stand among them.


Entry 5

There are no signs of others or of my family. I have called for them. Everything above is silent now. I am not sure whether I am blessed or cursed. My heart would quiet itself and follow the others to rest, but my mind is thick with fear.


Entry 6

It grows darker and the air is thinner. The faint lights I summon to write burn into my eyes. I can do no more. My energy must be saved for what may yet come. I am audacious enough to hope that these scraps of paper will hold out against the silence as I cannot. I would become a voice, singing up through this abyss, softening until a whisper, and then fading into the sky.

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