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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
24 November 2008 @ 12:36 pm
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[The top of this page is overtaken by quickly sketched map of The Dragonblight, particularly the locations of the various dragonshrines, with arrows and notes along the margins detailing what monstrosities may be found there, what's been killed, enemy movements, allies, and assorted dry minutae bearing less and less coherance until it finally devolves into just THIS]

I've orders to go see a man about a Dalaran shortly -- can't really put my finger on why precisely I'm stalling, asides from the fact that the place reminds me of my mother. Not that she ever went, mind, but she talked about it enough. Looking back on it now it probably had something to do with how she was always moon-eyed over humans and all assorted burliness. Makes me hope I never find out what my father looked like. If there's any human blood in me I'm draining it.

What was I ta

Have gotten relatively used to the cold, though it of course helps when one's horse is constantly on some fashion of fire. Didn't have the heart to bring Bear up here, so she's stabled back in Orgrimmar, likely shagged to the gills -- so to speak. Breeding her's a thought.

[There are several ink drops here, and it appears as though she tried to smear them across the page in an attempt to erase them]

I just spent a good fifteen seconds staring at the Steward here and imagining an awful lot Of Things. By the Sunwell, a dra On a marginally related note, I haven't seen Matojo since I've been up here. I'm not even sure he's made it to the continent yet, and part of me really hopes he hasn't. Last I heard he had another emergency that Carsis needed to see to, which meant trauma of some variety -- most likely for Carsis -- and there is no end of methods to hurt oneself up here. And by hurt oneself I meant things that want to gut you and smear your vitals all over their canines.

I'm bloody starving. Must will myself to Agmar's Hammer being it's dark.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
17 November 2008 @ 12:19 pm
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Didn't sleep last night. Spent it hacking up the taste of seaweed and shivering, that and how in the bloody Nether am I supposed to rest with so many other people -- loose term -- packed in the barracks with me, all smelling like they rolled in death and set themselves on fire. Besides, if I try to keep a demon out here to hold vigil while I sleep I'll be punched and gutted by any number of orcs perhaps justifia. At the same time, there's no way I'm falling asleep with this many lonely soldiers around me and nothing to quickly wake me. And thieves -- I don't care how united we are up here, someone'll steal from me just because I'm Sin'dorei and they're mentally constipated.

Not that there's much to steal.

I'm on the tundra. I figured better come here where the orcs are bustling about because they do things with wood and red tarps and spikes and burliness, while the Forsaken, who have built the Horde's second landing up in Northrend -- other end -- do things with bile and organs and poison. Rather not have a panic attack while I'm trying to do work, or failing that, become an unwitting test subject.

That said -- boo hoo, Northrend's natives. I cannot even begin to care about what new fanciful fat folk need me to do for them -- while, of course, at the same time treating me like rubbish because they don't know me, like they can afford to be such cataclysmic shits. I just went through this back on the mainlands, now there's Tauren Ultra and some round fellows and even bloody murlocs with their hands hats out. It's saying something when it's a relief to me to actually see a human or orc who needs something done, at least they have their eyes on some variety of actual threat.

Maybe I should've gone to Vengeance Landing. They obviously have the spirit of it right. We're not up here so we can make everyone happy again, or even just ease their suffering -- suffering's life, and it's what we've got, and the only thing left is bend the Prince over and sheathe his sword properly. Granted, I'm probably going to die terrifically bu

I think my hair's a little green.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
12 November 2008 @ 04:16 pm
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Scourge
Arduriel
Eralius (more or less)
Safia
Muiren
Eloren
Diara & her son
Hollis & Wife
Vintias
Alluralyn
Everyone else I knew, save three? two.

Orcs
Mum
Lyril
Auriel
Bethera (was that her name?)

Trolls
My father
My grandparents (mum)
Mum's brother (before I was born)
Syrillus
Ciannas

Sin'dorei
Asric
Eralius' daughter (indirectly)

No wonder everyone loves the Tauren.

Feeling old. And bloody cold -- the unit had a training run-around in Winterspring and I nearly froze my tits off. Am spending tonight reading the dozen or so books I've been putting off 'til now and lining my robes with something warmer than nothing.

In general feel like vomiting.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
28 October 2008 @ 01:25 pm
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My heart won't stop racing. Every instant feels like I've just woken up from some nightmare, and fair enough really, because most of the time I have. The smell of Quel'Danas isn't helping, and I mean the smell of the sheets, of the rooms, not the stench of the Wretched outside, or that constant bitter burning that the earth soaked up from the demons. It's the familiar scents that bother me. Them, combined with the Sunwell.

At first I thought it was anxiety over the same old "thing" -- the Scourge, the death of hundreds, thousands -- but it's more than that. I pulled mana from a wyrmling earlier, just because I could, but there was no spike, no rush. There was nothing to reach. And I know I should be happy for that and I am happy in a way, I just didn't realize that I'd forgotte but I don't deser but I'd made my peace with change. I'd wanted the change, because as much as I may dislike others of my race at times at least we were bound together, through that yearning. I worry with the Sunwell reignited those bonds will lessen and I won't be neede and it'll be as it was before when I was absolutely nothing.

So blood maudlin, Ne

It's probably just the dreams. I hate being back there. I hate that the worst moment of my life isn't mum dying, or finding Eralius' body, or even just watching strangers being eaten alive but that it's the moment it died, and that feeling that I died, like the light inside me just went out. And I hate everything I've done since that second, I hate what that grief drove me to do, and I want to strangle and burn and cut every Quel'dorei who didn't follow suit just because I feel too guilty to bear their existence on this planet or any other. I wish them the worst because they're so they think they're so damned better than me.

Who cares, doubt I could've lived as the half-corpses they had to be ever since it happened.

And now, the Invasion is m I don't I can't have it happen again. I can't have it torn from me again. I wouldn't live through it this time, don't bloody let him do it again.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
23 October 2008 @ 12:14 pm
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I feel the Sunwell again and then this news of Scourge.

Can’t be any bloody coincidence.

Too much to write about, felt strange in my skin all week. The lack of hunger is making me feel like I've died. Note: Write to Matojo and tell him you won’t be coming to Orgrimmar [an uneven scribble makes most of the next line illegible]ey say about us, and know it. My place is in Quel’Thalas. If I die, let it be where I should have died.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
25 August 2008 @ 11:58 am
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I feel like I've been on vacation forever. However, since I've nothing but years to fight the good fight ahead of me -- and honestly, after surviving three invasions in my life I feel pretty justified to take a few months to just appreciate how brilliant it is to breathe -- I figure I'm due a break. That and Matojo seemed like he was going to pitch a fit and strangle a soldier or two, and if he's taking a break I'd like to share it with him.

Only this time we're actually having a good time. Normally when I plan it our time off tends to be total shit.

Burnt all his mail this morning before he woke up. I didn't even think they delivered the bloody stuff up here! The man doesn't need the headache or reminder that the outside world exists, and honestly if anything's a total crisis a missing letter isn't going to hurt it.

Plus I think one was from a woman, and that's not happe
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
11 August 2008 @ 03:17 am
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I might be leaving Winterspring sooner than expected. Matojo came to visit, because I asked, because whenever I hear him on the 'stone these days he's always sounding half-dead. He didn't seem all that ha He hates the cold.

He seemed too a This is idiotic -- the man seemed distant. Fine. Not like that's anything new, considering he's been acting like he merely tolerates me for what, three months now? Four? Seeing as how I ran off to the north though, leaving him all alone so I could lounge around hot springs and have a girl bring me my tea, I'm not exactly fit to judge him on his behaviour. But It's jus Saying he drove me to it probably wouldn't be that helpful either but

I feel really old.

... I almost wrote unwanted. Apparently I associate the two, which is awful, but awful things can also be awful true -- look at mum. Died alone. Look at Arduriel, Nether, who wanted her by the time she bit it? Maybe I've used up all my cache prematurely, what with having to burn through my youth with all this rubbish of wars, and the Invasion, and the Legion, and even my work, by the Sun, my work. I started down a path and I'll be damned if I regret it -- there's no point in the wishing I was someone else --- but it looks like it's going to be very lonely. How pathetic. I wish I could summon the energy to feel bright and young around Matojo lately, draw my strength from him and all that poetic stuff, but lately being around him just depresses me, makes me feel drained.

All right, fine, granted, he's been more or less running the Harbingers lately, and I am proud, and I do love him, and I am not going to mention the issues he's we've been having until he speaks to Avelmore. I don't want to be adding to his stress. But if he never gets better, he can't honestly expect me to sta

When he speaks into my ears, and everything else is silent -- I'm still all butterflies. Being around somethione so different is the only thing that makes me feel normal. Like I could be wanted. Genuinely.

Still in Everlook.

Time to make Sara a thank-you dress, even if it takes all afternoon to find enough fabric. One dress, then I vow to get back to work. Cross my heart, tra la la.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
05 August 2008 @ 12:54 pm
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Still in Winterspring.

I'm dryer than I've been in years. Happily for all involved I stopped with the dry heaves several days ago, and I've even managed to keep the bulk of Sara's food down -- honestly, does everything she make have to be heavy and rich and thick like it is? -- but I'm not entirely sure this little experiment's been worth it. I know I'd prefer to stave off becoming a drained boil-bedecked husk as long as possible, but it's really a question of quality of life versus quantity.

I miss mana I don't miss mana. I have mana. The furbolgs nearby, I've tapped them when needed. I've avoided summoning Pip for the time being because the temptation to binge would be too great -- and I'm not looking to get clean and blue-eyed completely, just to drop back down into something regular. For awhile there I was headed towards sallow skin and skeleton-hands, after all.

Speaking of dry spells -- this is the longest I've gone without sex in over a year. Can't really blame anyone for that but myself, I'm the one playing hermit in the Great White Wank Wilderness, but it is a rather dismal thought, especially when factoring in the fact that Matoj I can't complain about that either. I'm the one who's gone into seclusion.

With some orc woman.

I think she expects me to sleep in a tarp, the way she's always going on about me being too cold at night. I'm already drowning under the furs she keeps heaping on me, I don't need to be covered from head to toe. Next thing I know she'll be wanting me to wear some kind of primitive bathing costume when I use the damned hot spring.

I'm trying to figure out what's worse: Being left alone with only one's thoughts for company, or realizing that one's thoughts are even duller than you'd suspected. I don't think I'm meant for a solitary existance. Sometimes I feel at a loss when there's no one around to impress.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
28 July 2008 @ 12:35 am
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Winterspring is beautiful.

Sara is tolerable.

It's so easy to forget oneself in hot springs.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
02 July 2008 @ 12:08 am
(no subject)  

( Someone may be giving a gal too many mana crystals )
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
25 June 2008 @ 09:58 am
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I'm finding the darndest things in my pants drawer.

The rule for the day is be cautiously optimistic. I've no idea what the troll is trying to do, writing up notes and leaving them in spots around the house, actually giving me mana crystals, and all around being generally sweet, but either he is doing as Rhyn has proposed in the past -- elaborately preparing me to be his dinner -- or... or I don't know what.

Certainly he can't be feeling right again, or he'd be running about the house shouting for me to come look.

I'm not complaining. I mean the things he's writing are [numerous blackouts] good, I'm just a shade confused. Last time I attempted to do anything with him he acted almost offended, like I'd told him to cut the grass or something. Don't know where he gets off -- metaphorically -- being such a colossal tease now. And since when are his kind teases in the first place? Sometimes I wish I actually liked women. Somadil and I could be very happy together.

I've been doing nothing but working too, though I desperately want to put that off for now. One of the curses I'm working on developing requires that I should probably cut open some bodies, but I just can't be arsed. I already smell like seasalt from too much time up north, already reek of demon spit from the things roaring their nonsense at me, I don't want to add a whiff of dead blood to the mix. Add a skunk to the face and I'd be halfway as rank as a Forsaken.

Oh, blood and tits I forgot I'm supposed to do some idiot thing with Saraquael sometime soon.

First though, there are lurid notes and mana crystals that demand my attention.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
18 June 2008 @ 08:37 am
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Shattrath has become nearly insufferable since all this Sunwell rubbish. I appreciate that yes, it had to happen, and yes, I'm very glad it did happen, but Sun Above, did we really need something to give the Draenei more license to act smug?

I assume they're acting smug. They just seem it to me, but that just be how their faces are. And even though the Scryers are bloody heroes, this whole thing has just villainized my people even more than they already were. I'll never understand how the Alliance has taken people who look like bloody demons to their burly bosom while still treating my race -- who taught the humans just about everything they damned know -- like we're venomous spiders. The only reason people are so eager to rut against their knobby blue legs like desperate dogs -- besides wanting some of that Light to rub off and make them whole again -- is because the Draenei haven't had a chance to royally mess up yet.

Can't wait for that to happen. I hope they're impregnating all the Alliance women with lava babies or something, or knocking on the door of all their mothers and then punching them in the face.

So work's been absolutely stellar.

Needless to say I had to get out of the city.

Went to the pub -- the Kodo -- and had a few drinks. Only had to pay for the first, mind. Fexa Flamethorn bought me I'm not even sure how many, and informed me of how brilliantly the book was doing. The other drinks were bought by a man rather set on chatting me up, and though he might as well have been reading his lines straight out of Flamethorn's book, it's nice to at least be appreciated. He was with a girl whose name I can't rightly recall, and though I suppose he could've just been talking to me to make her jealous, I also can't rightly bring myself to care.

Juniandi asking me how's my father questions about Matojo was mildly irksome. I understand why she'd ask me and all that, but it's not something I really want brought up around a sin'dorei man buying me dri pair of strangers. Besides, how am I supposed to answer that? "How is he? Cosmically unsatisfying, thanks." Told her to write him herself. Not like he gives me much to work with these days.

Back at the Tier now. Break's over.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
13 June 2008 @ 08:12 am
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If it's a problem with him, I don't see why he has to be such a complete and utter tool to me.

He acted like it was a chore to come home, and when he did it was as if I'd demanded his presence, told him to be there or else, when all I'd bloody said was we should eat dinner together. What a hardship. And fuck him, I was damned nice -- I bought made a special stupid dinner of troll whatever-they-eats, charred meat wound around snakes, I don't know, we took our wyverns to one of those islands everyone's always going all shiny eyed over, and I set up a meal. What a royal cock I am.

I took a belt from my flask and told him that I would do it on the back of a raptor.

I mean, I phrased it a touch more smoothly, but basically that's what I offered. The very idea still makes me winc That's the only direct thing he's ever really told me about, and considering when he did I reacted with pure scorn I thought he might prefer my seeming deliriously riled over the very notion. My mouth hurts from smiling so bloody much.

He said no. He doesn't think he'd like that.

Fine.

Make me look like a total idiot when that total idiot idea was your idea in the first place, you great-earred arse. Anyway, we ended up eventually attempting this horseshit again -- I'm the one who has to start it, touch him in the first place, offer kisses, but when's that been anything but the norm lately -- and surprise, surprise, nothing works.

And then he has the gall to act all offended when I ask if he's going to bed with someone else. Oh, right. What a completely insane notion. It's not like this is a sudden thing, for me it feels like it's been going on for months, his interest in me steadily decreasing until this. I'm not sure he understan

Plus he goes away for days at a time and doesn't say where he is. Even last night. Last night, after I ask him that and tell him I'm going home, he stays out until the wee hours and crawls back in the house before morning. Like a big idiot troll is so built for stealthy movement -- he must've run into the kitchen table five hundred times. Hope he got it right in the groin, at least a bruise would make it swell for a minute or two.

Does he even know how many men I could be with right no

I'm going back to work on the Tier this morning. Staying at home makes me want to set someone on fire, and there's more important things in life than this.
 
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
09 June 2008 @ 03:49 pm
(no subject)  
By the way, my week off was shit. Putting it here for the record, in case I ever get it into my head again to plan another sort of "escape". It always, always ends up in someone getting in a fight, or someone getting a concussion, or more recently someone not getting something, flipping out, and deciding to skip the rest of the vacation I asked off for his idiot arse in the first bloody place and leaving me alone in the house.

I probably should've been more understanding at the time, but for the love of the Sun, I only have the patience to stroke one thing at a time -- and I cannot be arsed to see to your ego too. "Oh boo hoo, I'm the ninety trillionth man in history to have performance issues, poor meeeee", bloody Nether, you'd think he looked down and saw that it'd burst into flames. I mean, I know how fond men are of themselves, and the record will show I'm a fan of the things too, but half the problem is just his making such a big bloody deal out of it. Of course it's not going to work if you just shout at it, you magnificent tit.

Tried to rattle off a few platitudes and that. It happens, we'll try again in the morning -- I have never said this and meant it -- tra la la, all that nonsense, but to be honest I am so unsympathetic. All my parts still work beautifully, but thanks for finding running off a more appealing prospect than bothering with any of that.

Besides, I'm the one who should be being reassured. First the lukewarm response to my coming home, then that nonsense with Koru's visit, imposing celibacy on me through child pres clo nearby-ing-ness, now this. Nearbyingness?

Look, it's making me stupider.

This is idiotic. Of course it has nothing to do with me. He's old, he's probably stressed, he's probably permanently drunk by this point. It should be more noteworthy when he actually does manage to get it up, all things considered.

And I'm It has nothing to do with me. There is nothing to dislike here.

Maybe I'll cut my hair. Re-dye it again. Something to justify a long bath if anyone bothers to ask.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
30 May 2008 @ 12:56 pm
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I asked Red to have this next week off -- asked for Matojo to have it likewise as well -- and he grumbled a bit before saying it's alright. Possibly should've run it by Matojo first, but then there would've been a chance of him saying no.

Was so happy I might've hugged him. Red. Why in the Nether did I do that.

I think if Matojo asks I'll just say I was drunk the other night when I said all those things. He was probably too pissed himself to know I was sober anyway, so who's to know. And really, the only reason I went off about all that in the first place was because of how I feel about him-- if I didn't care so much I wouldn't lash out like that. What a shit thing to realize. Besides, this'll make up for the business with Desl

I reserve the right to murder us all if his grandson shows up.

I'm going shopping before I get home tonight. That rubbish he puts in his pipe, mana crystals for mine, drinks, proper food that I don't have to gut myself, this'll be brilliant.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
28 May 2008 @ 08:41 am
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Things I may have to apologize for:'

• Calling him old.
• Telling the truth and mentioning all his children like that. In that light.
• Claiming that I was settling for him.
• Telling him I've always hated both the house and Nagrand.
• Disrespecting the fact that I suppose he's an officer (though I did shut up when told to do so, if only because I turned my stone off, if only because that was bloody humiliating).
• Informing him he was lucky to have me.

To be fair, at least a couple of those are true, but I suppose it's the way I framed it that grated on him -- and the fact that he was piss drunk, that couldn' t have helped either. But it's not like he's completely blameless, he was being a total shit, what with his "the house isn't a commitment, it's a house" rubbish he was going on about. Right, because I buy houses from people who hate me and my race all the time, just for a lark! I think nothing of moving in with a troll, what's the big deal? Onwards and upwards, let's all get cosy and pantsless.

Maybe I should ask where the other sin'dorei women with non-sin'dorei men have been getting their lobotomies done.

Because I have made a lot of progress, and I am doing my best, but just because I'm not entirely there yet doesn't mean I'm broken or there's something wrong with me. Give me a little bit of credit for what I've done, rather than dwelling on what I haven't. In fact, I'd much rather be with someone who approached this relationship with a bit of trepidation. Just because we want nothing to be wrong doesn't mean there isn't.

Anyway how do you apologize to a man. I mean, in a way that can't be misconstrued as wildly manipulative.

And last night while I was packing up an overnight bag -- slept on one of the islands in Nagrand, didn't feel like being at home -- Rhyn shows up. At my house. Apparently he tore the shirt I made him all that time ago and he wanted it repaired. He doesn't want me, oh no, no, he just traveled halfway around the universe for a bit of patchwork. Not an excuse to take his shirt off, not at all.

So I fixed it for him. I mean, once we got the hellfire away from the house. And actually I cooled down quite a bit, even spoke casually, talked about Somadil and the fact that she's seeing a new man these days -- that guard from the city, from the auction. Rather young from her, but that might be good really. I don't know how a man who kidnapped
me can have a calming effect, but I was smoking bloodthistle, and I have attempted to kill him once or twice and he still talks to me.

I smell like Nagrand island. I'm going to take a bath somewhere civilized.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
26 May 2008 @ 09:49 am
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Matojo doesn't seem particularly amused by the letter I wrote him. Vaguely remember what was in it, so I can imagine why. He says he's going to pretend I didn't say any of it until I can say it sober, so I'm off the hook 'til doomsday.

However, to distract him and possibly add some much need levity to everything, I received the manuscript for the new book from Flamethorn yesterday, so tra la. Apparently it's already been sent off to the printers, so it should be out any day now anyway, and he can't try and tell me that he doesn't like this sort of tripe because he read the last one on his own bloody time. Didn't piece it together -- happy day -- and seemed to go on about how crap it was, but he likes this sort of thing. I can tell.

Deslan, however, hopefully doesn't. While the book's not "true" it is "truth-esque", some scenes more than others, and I may have drawn on a mutual experience or two here and there in my letters to Flamethorn.

But oh well. It's written, it's printed. I doubt he'll make the connection even if he does read it -- which he won't. Men get off with parlour girls in the backs of apothecary shops all the time. Besides, the man in the book is a the bloody Prince, not some handsome guard.

Plus half of it's on a boat. For some reason. Not my idea.

It's going to sell beautifully.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
24 May 2008 @ 10:49 am
(no subject)  
That was embarrassing.

Since I seem to be having a rash of brilliant ideas of late, why don't I add this one to the list -- it is a stupendous idea to go swimming a) with a man who isn't my man, b) in a shirt I borrow from him because "tee hee, no bathing costume!", c) in a shirt that is too large for me, d) in a white shirt that is too large for me. If last night was some sort of mathematical equation, its end sum would be something like "tart squared". Or "to the whoriest power". Or "tramp plus tramp equals tramp", I don't know math.

And I was piss drunk.

So I left. After I surfaced. Surfaced, realizing that the combination of white shirt, cold water, and cold water had thrown my chest into sharp relief -- as it were. Had to ask him to grab my dress for me. Humiliating.

I wrote him this morning apologizing for my behaviour, because really. Really. Vague recollection of writing Matojo too, and I pray to anything, even that goddess of the butch'dorei that I didn't say anything damning, or didn't confess to anything stupid -- though I don't think I did. The fact is I really don't want young, exciting, handsome men, I want Matojo. That's not what I meant. But it's that idiot that I love, more than anything. I've never before had that feeling like -- I don't have to impress him all the time, or put on an act, or feel a pressure to be witty, and he still loves me back. Somehow.

I'm going to stay in this weekend too, and damnit, I'm not going to wear pants around the house either. As for Deslan, whatever, it's best I just don't see him -- not because I would do anything, but because it's unfair to him to say I'm not interested and then act like a desperate virgin, plying him with alcohol until he touches a tit, and acting all offended and running off.

He didn't, by the way. Touch a tit. It's an example, he didn't touch anything. We didn't do anything. He probably got an eyeful through my wet shirt, but he's seen them before, and in this world he hardly has a monopoly on that sight.

This is what happens when I don't work.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
23 May 2008 @ 02:50 pm
(no subject)  
The troll's lazing around the house, taking a break for a couple of days. Also seems to be deadset against wearing pants! Oh, and there he goes. Scratching himself.

I wonder how soon I can be in Stranglethorn.
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The Journal of Darda Dawnflare
20 May 2008 @ 10:27 am
(no subject)  
I invited Wolf out to Stranglethorn -- he's never been, and apparently I was just drunk enough to think that an evening in a sweaty, hot, exotic locale where there is nothing to do but drink and remove clothing would be a good way to while away the night with someone I used to sleep with. A lot, used to sleep with a lot.

Mostly I just want out of the house, for reasons so obvious I don't even want to rant about them again, and honestly I'm not planni going to do anything with the man. Despite however well he and I may have fit together -- har dee har -- it's not like we're especially compatible otherwise. Especially not now. He may not be married for the time being, but he'll be married again soon, likely to some awfully nice girl who never wears make-up because she "just never learned how" and radiates sunshine out her arse.

I mean, it's not in him to whore around, he's a bloody housecat. I like Deslan, but he's not my type, and I think we're well aware I'm certainly not his.

Told him I was with someone too. I don't think I needed to go into details.

There, the trip is suitably justified.

Also demons are still raping the homeland.
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