We had no idea how outdated our maps of Stranglethorn area were. First and foremost, they appeared on my maps as one, contiguous zone and one of the first things I noticed upon approaching the mainland was a giant whirlpool located very close to the mouth of Nazferiti, splitting the area in two. As I would later learn, the two resulting areas are now called “Stranglethorn Jungle” and “Cape of Stranglethorn”. Once I was told a similar whirlpool in the region of Kalimdor known as Darkshore leads to an underwater cavern haunted by the ghost of a demon hunter. Alas, I was not willing to investigate and look for more kaldorei spectres and set my course towards the river. Swimming upstream on a boat this size can take quite an effort, so I put my full concentration on the journey.
Tag Archives: Tol’vir
After leaving the pirate-infested Hiji behind, I continued to sail through the eastern part of South Seas. The winds were favorable most of the time, so I took this chance to study the maps I had of the area. The maps were confusing at best. On some, there was nothing but another long stretch of empty sea until you run into Stranglethorn Vale. On others, there were two islands painted on the way, but both were very poorly described. Having no formal names on the maps, there was only the vaguest shape and a warning sign. Had I noticed this back in Uldum, I would have consulted our best repositories of knowledge but given that the maps I took had nothing, I doubt I would find anything worth mentioning. Seeing that my course was taking me directly towards these two mysterious islands, I braced myself for danger.
After finally sailing away from the Isle of Giants, I knew I was finally swimming away from Pandaria. Accordingly with all the maps I had of the area, I was entering a wide expanse of water with very few possible stops – no large islands, no significant naval trade routes. This particular corner of the South Seas lied completely on the fringe of civilization. My people have never sailed so far east. The Pandaren very rarely ventured beyond their mists. Humans were mostly frightened of this distant, empty sea, being told from childhood stories about islands full of giants and monsters and about mystical, distant lands full of forgotten warlocks who will share their magic with you for the price of your soul. Some of those stories can be quite captivating, in the hands of the right person, but ultimately they are all fiction. Although there are tiny islands with forgotten treasures and mysteries, they are very rare, and in the different part of the sea.
After the troublesome previous day, I had hoped for some respite for the next day. After spending more time sailing around the feet of Kun-Lai Summit I finally ran into a lower part of Pandaria with a more accessible coast. The pandaren apparently call it Zouchin Province. It is quite peculiar, really, as everywhere else in the Northern Pandaria, the coast is covered with cliffs and only few access points to the mainland. I theorized that Zouchin Province has formed from a sediment that settled around the shattered coast after the Sundering, but the historical records proved me wrong – apparently the current Zouchin Village was once a city and an administrative region in the Pandaren Empire. It remains puzzling why Zouchin did not share the fate of the rest of the plains that once stretched this piece of Kalimdor.
I sailed for a long time today, seeing no land. Indeed, the South Seas are wide and islands are sparse, especially in these parts. Since I left Uldum the only land I passed in the distance was two unoccupied islands. Bearing nothing of importance to me, I quickly left them behind. I heard that once adventurers sought out something or someone in there, but whoever it was, he was long gone. After that, there was nothing for hours. Just a wide, calm sea with nothing but fish and an occasional murloc to accompany me. Oddly, the murlocs were all swimming alone, though I was informed they always swarm their enemies. Perhaps they did not expect anyone in these waters and were not ready to attack. I began to fear they would inform others and follow my boat, but I did not have to.
I am Menrim, a scribe of the Neferset. Or at least, formerly of the Neferset. I served my tribe for fifteen years when Al’Akir’s elementals appeared to us and offered us a deal – to join Al’Akir, his master Deathwing and his masters – the Old Gods. I was among the few among the Neferset who saw the folly of such a deal. And in the end, my people payed dearly for aligning themselves with these creatures. The Neferset tribe has been nearly destroyed, and among the dead was my own brother Bathet. I am still alive because I defected. Some would call me a traitor, who changed allegiances to save his own life, but is it not them who are greater traitors? The ones who would seek to align themselves with enemies of all life and all existence just to pursue a long-lost origin of our people? I did what I had to do to do no evil. If only Bathet and others had seen what this “deal” was going to cost them, everything would look differently.