A Poem For Perithan’s Brother, Yatlen

We let it go, we give it here,

Yet we never see the last.

The first of them, the days of yore,

A fleeting face, aghast.

Our shock and awe is clear to see,

O’ bravo to the show!

To them and they and furthermore,

Who paint those shades of woe.

So rise and rouse from eerie sleep!

Our seeds are keen to fight.

The humble lads and master’s cadre,

Call from a front of of light.

For laying there and sitting still,

Was a friend we’d come to find.

The tree grows tall and lends its shade,

To ranks and scores combined.

The dull of boots and throb of pace,

Were caught by casual wind.

Lofting by and sifting news,

Though a healthy crowd had thinned.

What loitered and still lingered ‘round,

Was an unsightly piece of trash!

The forest burned and raged all through,

Yet our bows had met their dash!

From brush, branch, bough, and limb we shot!

Our arrows knocked — they flew!

This horde — this blight — now turned tail!

The day was theirs to rue!

Year Six — Southern Quel’Thalas

Yatlen, I’m going to tell you something as frankly as I can — this has been the worst day of my life. We've been through hell and back, but no matter what happens out here, I want you to know that I will always love you. I will continue to send these letters as often as I can.

We’re going to set out again in the morning, but Phaylin has a missive to run back to Fairbreeze, so he’s promised to drop this letter off for you along the way.

We've beat them back for now, Yatlen, take heart! Take nothing away from our victory today! Yet I pray you will never have to see what’s happened. Far too many of the rangers won’t be coming home — Areninis is among the fallen. It pains me to say that. I just don’t know how to deal with with the fact; but for kin and cadre alone, I’ll draw the strength to press on. What I've written in prose is vague, and will never do this terrible experience justice. The spectacle was grand and horrible at the same time.

We've come a long way from the shores of Hillsbrad, brother; I’d be lying if I said I wasn't exhausted. The pace was relentless, and I’m not sure where we’re bound for now, but we’re determined to see this through to the end. My place is here. I would never let the rangers down; you know that.

I’m writing this from the very edge of Quel’Thalas — I can’t say where — but at least I’m close by, Yatlen. I promise I’ll see you soon once this is all over. Maybe we can spear some sagefish again and have a nice meal as a whole family. I’m carrying that pleasant and peaceful memory with me as we march and it comforts me greatly.

Please, continue your studies as best you can and always remember what we did today. Who fought and died for it — if only so that this horrid spectacle can continue on. You won’t know their names, but we’ll always have to bear the burden of their sacrifice. War is a terrible thing, Yatlen; it’s nothing to romanticize. Never think anything different.

Mother, Father, Yatlen, Quhiel — I love you all. No matter what happens we’ll see this though!

Perithan Highfeather — Farstrider Dispatch Courier