Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 24

Getting older isn't optional, but growing up is!! I'm not old... for a tree. Maybe I'll just take tree form and set down roots somewhere, then I don't have to acknowledge just how old I'm getting. I'll do it tonight, before it's tomorrow. Tomorrow is coming really fast. Too fast. I'm not stressed, really. I'm old, I'm okay with that. Really.

I do think it's sad though... I'm turning... I'm going to be... gah. I'll be older tomorrow and yet I'm still not a grandpa (that I know of). Maybe Onatak had some flings before he met the Dragon Queen... hmm, maybe some grandkids are going to start showing up. I bet Bermuhall had a few... maybe Nasnani? Why can I be a grandpa before the end?

Okay, so it's not the end of the world me ticking over another digit, but damn... I'm OLD! I feel it in my bones and in my muscles and see it in every face that goes past me on the road.

Tomorrow... I go to Moonglade... and tomorrow... I'm going to be a tree. Just to feel young again, right?

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 23

So... one of my kids got married while I was uh, indisposed. Tomahna, he's a bastard. No really... I sort of, consoled his mother... while her husband was on a trip... Let me tell you this, Seers... are annoying.

At any rate, the dumb shit married an elf. I'd've raised a stink but she scares the crap out of me.. and this is more ammunition to disinherit the kid. I'm not even sure he really gets anything... huh, maybe I should write a will. Leave everything to Bullzilla, that'll piss him off. He'll be too confused (and probably scared of booby traps) he'll just hoard the crap. So tempted.

At anyrate, my idiot bastard child married an elf and she's pregnant. Yes, I said pregnant. At least I think so, rumors are kind of filtering in slowly now that my sources are hearing I'm back to normal. So I'm sure she's been cheating on him, maybe with that elf that my daughter is boinking. Seriously, what is UP with my kids and elves?

Onatak and Ameyah are the only reasonable kids I have right now, both are dating (or at least knocked up) a tauren. I won't go so far as to say they both picked respectable tauren, but I'll take a backstabbing piece of swine shit tauren over an outstanding citizen elf any day. I mean when it comes to mingling with my family.

Don't get me wrong, elves are great... they have a place in the world. They keep things from hitting me, they make me water, they summon me from across the lands... but they need to stick to their own kind. I've got plenty of them in the faire, but you don't see me skirt chasing (and that's only partly due to not being able to tell them apart... some of the men wear dresses, I mean Varkaz? really?).

I don't have anything against them. I had a friend once, he was an elf, don't remember his name... but he was a good friend, I'm sure! I'm also sure that both Tomahna and Lindiwe are too young to know what love is... they're both thinking with the wrong body bits and those gold-digging elves are taking advantage of it.

I have to get Eiada back to Onatak.... I'm going to be a granddaddy. Man, I feel old. I wonder if the little guy will be born before my birthday!? Maybe they'll name him after me. Aww. I bet Onatak would... not Eiada though, she hates me. Maybe if I pretend I've gone sober? Bah, I'll figure it out.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 22

Well then, read over my journal and seems... not only were things really fucked up, but someone was feeding me a few "half truths". Scammers the lot of them. It makes me so proud.

Yeah, okay, I killed my brother in a fit of rage... someting I never told anyone. I also never told anyone that he kinda stuck around. Who's going to believe me, right? "Yes, hello, I'm Owakeri Brightmoon, I'm being haunted by the ghost of my brother whom I murdered for killing half our tribe and telling my wife that me and the kids were dead, telling the kids that mommy and daddy were dead and sending them off to Earth Mother knows where, then marries my wife and starts up a new family with her." Not really the most believable bedtime tale... and it ends with me commiting a murder, so yeah.

Turns out Viho (the's the brother) paid attention while I was learning Druidism. Learned a few tricks of his own, he's what the Circle would call a "Dark Druid" except he doesn't have a body. He figured... "oh hey, why don't I take Owakeri's? and while I'm at it, why don't I hurt his family some more?" Cause, you know, screwing me out of my first ever family, taking away the one woman I ever loved, letting my kids get raised by Earth Mother knows who... no, that wasn't enough.

So he took over, left me a tiny corner of my own brain so I could watch him torment my children (and my wife, oh the things... not getting into it). I watched him tell Lindiwe how disappointed he, I, was in her. I watched him tell Ameyah she was useless and would never amount to anything. I watched him manipulate the carnies like stirring a hornet's nest with a stick. Then, to add salt to the wound, he played the perfect part of the delapitated old man losing his marbles. So many people hurt while they watched "me" lose my mind.

There were a few times though... once was on the bridge in Thunder Bluff. Tomahna and Lindiwe were fighting, over me... and how to "fix" me. Viho was distracted with how they even knew he was there... I was able to tell them to stop fighting, that family comes first. Viho taking my body back gave me a heart attack... no really, heart stopped beating for a bit and everything.

If I'm completely honest with myself, and I never tell a lie that I can't back up, I'd have to say I'm going through some weird kind of mourning. Sure I killed Viho decades ago... but he's also been a constant companion, okay, haunt, for all these years. Now he's gone and I finally have my head to myself again. It's lonely in here!

I also sort of.. maybe... might, kind of, feel responsible for the hurt feelings folks got out of this whole deal. Have some making up to do I guess.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 21

A nice young lady, Brightmoon I believe she said her name was, gave me this book. Turns out I've lost my memories... save for one. I get the impression this has been going on for a while so I asked if she had something I could write down some notes in.

So... me... when I forget... my name is Owakeri. I'm a tauren. I live in Thunder Bluff.

Another fellow here, who stinks of burning bone and some other aroma that I can't quite identify, he said I'm an "Old Coot". Not sure what that's suppose to mean. Maybe my memory problems are just an age thing.

One thing I do remember clearly.... is that I'm a horrible person. I'm a murderer and the worst kind, I killed my own brother in cold blood. I remember that day so vividly, we were in a small village atop a mesa, the sun was high in the sky and beat down on the hard packed ground with a ferocity that is hard to ignore. It's the same kind of ferocity that was evident in the eyes of the centaur who attacked.

No one seemed overly worried until a couple of them made it past our outer defences and came across the last bridge. That's when I took my chance. I grabbed a javelin from a fallen centaur and ducked behind a totem pole right by the bridge. Viho, that's my brother, saw me and came to stand with me. I know he was hoping to protect me, that's what younger brothers do for older brothers. But the moment he came around the totem pole...

I thrust with the javelin, spearing him through the gut. I watched the shock in his face and the question in his eyes... I was cold and uncaring as I pushed him off the mesa, right into the rest of the centaur offensive.

Of course no one accused me of anything... it was a centaur weapon (or several because his dead body was struck several more times after the fall) and no one had reason to believe his own brother would kill him.

I am a horrible person.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 20

The old tauren sits at one of the low flat tables of the Animal hunched over a parchment. His shoulders are slumped, his hand trembles with age, his face seems almost sunken like he was sucking in air through pursed lips. The fur on his snout and mane was always grey but now it seemed dim... like it was turning to dust. There was a haunted look in his eyes as he writes on the parchment, carefully tracing each letter, painstakingly.
Viho....
Viho....
Viho...
Viho...
Viho...
Viho... Viho... Viho...
What.... have I done?

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 19

The old tauren sits against the building housing one end of the bridge to Elder Rise and absently rubs the left side of his chest, he grimaces and looks up at the dark sky and it's twinkling stars. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly as if trying to control a sharp pain. With another sharp breath he speaks, apparently to no one.

"It's working. And...I hate you. You're bringing out the worst of the people around me, family and friends alike. Tearing us apart. They don't handle crisis well... at all."

Owakeri shakes his head and grunts, gripping his left shoulder with his right hand.
"I'm too old for this. I don't even remember how old... but I think I'm older than my kind is suppose to be. I'm on borrowed time... I don't understand why you're taking such a slow revenge. Hell... I'm not even sure it's you."

He grimaces and pulls his shoulders into a huddle for a moment, concentrating on breathing in slow even tones. "Too old..." After a moment Owakeri sits back and breathes more readily, he looks around confused, "did you...?" Glancing to the right he blinks to clear his vision, and shakes his head, unsure he actually saw anything. The wind picks up for a moment and the barest whisper reaches the old tauren ears, "not.... yet."

His eyes wide and wild, Owakeri stands up, still not sure he heard or saw anything. He breathes deeply and works his left shoulder, bolstered and no longer in any discomfort. "Why??" but his tone is resigned, as though he doesn't really expect to hear an answer. Looking around in agitation he mutters about finding "them" to tell "them" what he suspects, but it lasts only a moment before he just stops. Smiling to no one in particular he wanders aimlessly past the building... his objective apparently forgotten.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 18

Sometime in the middle of the night, in one form or another, the old man had gotten up and left the tent where Mimeteh was keeping watch. He wandered, half asleep, confused, and alone, before coming to rest in a cave in the Stonetalon Mountains. In the morning he woke with a start, unsure of where he was, he rooted through the small bag at his side and came across a small journal. He furrowed his brow, hadn't the girl in his tent been looking at this?

He flips it open to a random page, there was a sketch of a tauren woman in her late 30's early 40's with a small tattoo of a paw below her left eye. The sketch and the words on the opposing page are finely done by someone who has had training as a scribe. After examining the sketch for a while he looks to the opposite page to read.

Aneketa Brightmoon, uses the name Lindiwe. Daughter of Owakeri and Onawa Brightmoon. Raised by trolls after seperated from family. Runs the Brightmoon Faire after sister Ameyah left abruptly. Dating a blood elf named Astenya. Training as a druid with Bullzilla. Wants to learn to be a healer, might learn from Owakeri. That's you, you dumbass. Had a drinking problem, may have sobered up after training with Bullzilla. Formerly on the council of druids. Hates her father (again, that's you) but puts on a good show for the sake of the marks and carnies.

The old tauren slams the book shut and pinches the wide bridge of his muzzel, pressing his eyes shut a moment. Shaking his head he opens the book to another random page, there is another sketch and more careful text. The picture is that of a grown tauren woman, pale and reserved and four children. The oldest is in her late teens and is scowling, her head turned away from the group. The next are a boy and a girl about the same age, looking at each other. The last is a toddling girl pulling on the woman's skirt. Owakeri reaches out and touches the woman's face, his eyes watering from all the dust in the cave. After a moment he reads the captions.

Onawetaya, who refuses to use your name because you are a complete and total idiot. She's your wife. Mimeteh is her little sister, but grew up with your kids. Ameyah and Akikta, the twins. Akikta's dead now. Imi, the youngest. Onawetaya isn't speaking to you, Mimeteh hates you, Ameyah won't come near you, your son is dead and you haven't seen Imi since she left for training with the Circle. So much for family, old man... you really screwed this one up.

The moisture in his eyes built up enough that a tear formed and slid down the fur of his face, he nods and speaks to the book in a quiet and tight voice, "yes, I remember that much at least." Again he lifts one large finger to gently stroke the sketch of his current wife and most recent family.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 17

The old tauren slept fitfully on the rug in his tent, unaware of the presence of any of his family, his bear form mostly still except for his deep breathing and occassional twitching. Anyone listening closely might hear his bear grumblings, almost coherant.

The mist clung to everything, a fog that did not choke, but obscured his vision and gave the illusion of being submerged. With each breath he felt as though the mist -would- begin to choke him, but he stayed put and resisted the urge to brush at his face to dislodge the intangible. He was not still, a still figure in the living wood stands out too much, he swayed slightly with the bowing trees, his fur washed in waves over him as the breezes shifted over his bear form.

He had been in one position too long, the -entity- tracking him would soon be upon him. The urge to run was strong, his massive paws tensed, his claws digging into the mossy forest floor. If he ran there would be no turning back, his passing would be obvious. If only he could remember... there was another animal, a creature... the bear huffed soundlessly in frustration.

The sleeping bear groaned and rolled over in his sleep, pawing at the ground in agitation. His massive claws tore at the rug, digging into the earth below.

The fog dampened and distored and in some cases amplified sounds, the noises made by his pursuer were close, far, warped, close again. The old bear closed his eyes and tried to concentrate and focus his mind. His body slowly began to morph, the dark brown fur shortening and taking a lighter tawny color... his hulking shoulders narrowing, shrinking to match his much smaller waist. The rugged appearance of the bear slowly, and hesitantly taking the more supple form of a feline.

The lion panted, clearly exhausted from effort, but his sharp eyes remained alert for the thing tracking him. Despite his fatigue there would be no rest this night. He slipped away from his hiding spot, moving from tree shadow to tree shadow, leaving no mark of his passage.

In his sleep the old tauren shifts from the form of a bear to that of a lion, his breathing does not slow, he does not calm.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 16

Dear wife,
I hope you don't mind that I call you that, you made me swear never to say your name again. Please, please, please, for the sake of our children, read to the end of this letter! You know I wouldn't be writing to you unless it was really, really, important.

Despite your cracks about my age, you have got to be aware that I'm getting up there. Lately I've been finding it harder to wake up in the morning and... and my dreams are so vivid. I am tracking something or someone, in my cat form, and it smells wrong. While I struggle to wake (you recall how much of a "morning" person I am, ha!) I lose what I saw in the dream, except I have to find it... the urge to track it is pure instinct which is harder and harder to overcome each time I take the form of one of the animals. (It even happens when I take wolf form).

Maybe I'm just getting to be too old and Ysera's calling me home. I'm visiting her now, if you can see it in your heart to come and discuss this with me...
Owakeri

This leads to ARRPEE: http://wyrmrestaccord.net/content/owakeri-writes-letter-open-rp or http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.html?topicId=17367765102&sid=1

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 15

Late at night, two days after disappearing without a word, Owakeri snuck into his tent and rummaged in the chest looking for something. While he searched, his abandoned hearthstone came to life with a discussion... Owakeri ignored it until he heard something that caught is attention. Taking a deep breath he casually said hello.

"Anything fun going on this morning?"

"Ah! Aren't you missing?" asked the voice of Ashtehn Embersong.

"Am I? huh... well the, I should go to bed. I always find things more readily after a good night sleep."

"Ah Sleep. That sounds like a good idea. And nope! Nothing fun this morning... no sir!"

"Father? Where the Fel are you? ... hic!" slurred his daughter, Lindiwe.

"Lindiwe? are you drunk again?"

"Lindiwe is drunk! Don't listen to a word she says"

"So?" sneered the drunk tauren.

"Ah, well then... I just forgot something, I'll be gone a few days or more. Don't worry about me, everything is fine, just taking a bit of a vacation."

"Bah... Ash shut up.. FATHER! I'm getting married!"

"Not until he asks my blessing you aren't. And he can't do it in that creepy "I want to own your daughter" way either."

"Too late... we set plans for Saturday"

"We'll see about that. Ashtehn, I want to talk to you... in private."

"What'd you forget? where're you on vacation at?" Ashtehn asked quickly.
Wouldn't be much of a vacation if you guys could find me, and I forgot my fishing pole.""

"Ah. Of course."

"What if we need to reach you in an emergency? Not even then? It'll still be a vacation. I won't tell anyone where you went." persisted the elf.

"You don't. You guys can handle anything that comes up... and I'm retired, remember?" With that Owakeri set down the stone and penned a quick note to Ashtehn: Make sure Astenya doesn't make his "wedding" on saturday.

Sighing heavily Owakeri sat on his sleeping palate and took up his battered journal, writing slowly and squinting in the dim tent.

It's getting a bit complicated, but I found what I was looking for and I think I can deal with it on my own. No one even needs to know what happened! My memory though, not what it use to be, I forgot half my gear at home... told the others it was my fishing pole I forgot. Mostly true... best kind of lie, for anyone reading this... half truths are harder to discern than outright lies. Keep it simple, remember what you spoke of and keep it as close to the truth as you can without losing out on the con.

Er... where was I? Right... the ritual should take only 30 or so minutes, but the preparations will take a few days. Just long enough for a nice fishing trip.
Maybe I'll be back in time for Lindiwe's "Wedding". That elf is going to meet the business end of one of my hooves pretty soon. I wonder how Bullzilla is making out... considering checking in, but that's probably a bad idea.

Abruptly Owakeri sets down the journal and gathers up the missing supplies, heading out into the darkness. Once again his hearthstone rests on the small table of his tent

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 14

Standing at the base of the ramp to Thrall's chamber, Ameyah grips the parchment she carries tightly. She glances over her shoulder to the top of the ramp where Thrall himself stands with several of his guards. With a nod the warchief steps back into his chamber, leaving the poor tauren woman to address the assembled crowd.

Ameyah takes a deep breath, adjusts her bright green tabard with one hand, then holds the parchment in front of her. As she speaks her tail and arms tremble with barely contained emotion.

"Gathered Citizens of Orgrimmar and allies of the Warchief, I am Ameyah Brightmoon of the Brightmoon Faire and I am here to issue a public apology for the earlier behavior of my father, Owakeri Brightmoon.

I, and by extension the Brightmoon Faire, did not approve his public outcry and disruptive behavior. We understand that there is a war going on and the grumblings of a senile old man are not something the Warchief has any need to deal with.

I apologize, whole heartedly, and wish to assure you that this will not happen again. Owakeri Brightmoon has no active leadership role within the Faire, he is retired... he just forgets that sometimes."

Lowering the parchment Ameyah looks out over the murmuring crowd, ignoring the few hollared comments from the back, comments like "senile old coot!" and "keep your pets under control!"

With a curtsey she mumbles, "thank you for your time" and hurries off down The Drag.~Ameyah

((In reply:))
A young Tauren leans against a post near the ramp of Thrall's chamber. She murmurs to herself oblivious to anyone listening "This is an outrage... we should be able to speak our mind. The Old One did nothing wrong."

She looks up as Ameyah walks out of the chamber with obvious defeat hanging on her shoulders. Lindiwe glowers and thinks, it wouldn't be this way if she had more trust in her own fathers judgment.

As Ameyah finishes her speech and walks away, Lindiwe stares after her. She ignores the comments coming from the crowd behind her and shouts after her "Do you even know him anymore?"

With a flick of her tail Lindi starts walking down the corridor into the Drag, holding her head high.

"I need a drink."~Lindiwe

---
Interesting....
~Cheekie
---

Idly fingering the fine cloth of his new tabard, Oesah watches Ameyah deliver her apology to the crowd. He notes that her posture and gait echo her father's, albeit marred by shame and embarrassment where her father's were bolstered by pride and passion. His gaze flits around the chamber - at the annoyed faces in the crowd, the squashed corpses of bananas underfoot (now the focus of small clouds of black flies), and at the Warchief's now empty spot.

He thinks about the wild events last night that led him to stand in this very chamber with the "old coot" - his impulsive trip to Moonglade, the conference with the strange old Tauren, and the bold rally in Orgrimmar.

He thinks about all the people he met, just in the span of a few hours last night. A sinister seer, a bold patriot, and a weary, wise veteran. How strangely eloquent words had tumbled from his lips in the midst of this motley group, and how he found himself questioning the ways of the world as he thought he knew it. In the past months, he had traveled the world on his feet, but last night, he traveled even further in his mind and heart.

There is more to life than fighting to survive. There needs to be something worth fighting for so you can truly live afterwards.

A small smile graces the corners of his mouth.

"I'm home." ~Oesah
---
Sparavi leans against the great, gnarled tree some distance from the ramp and away from the irritating sweaty crush of Orcish bodies, his armor creaking now and then as he shifts position now and then.

He slowly shakes his head, expression a fine, even blend of disappointment and wonder as the embarrassed young woman's words ring strong and clear over the crowd. Much like her father's, he notes.

The confrontation with the distracted and dismissive Warchief, justified or not, had been a waste. I warned him the complacent Warchief would not listen! Said if the foolish shaman was too passive enough to prevent what happened at Angrathar, why would he care about a Faire? The thought evokes a sudden welling of savage and gnawing annoyance, that boils up and threatens to spill from his lungs; he bites it off, knitting his brow and giving the crowd a quick once over.

He makes a mental note of each and every man and woman who shrieks obscenities, derogatory remarks - "Senile old coot!" "Keep your pets under control!" - and nods to himself. Oh yes. Words with those, later. Regardless of how senile Owakeri was or was not, the troll fancies he isn't about to let his new paymaster be further slandered even by an ignorant crowd. He slips out of sight, red eyes narrowed, and tugs his horned helm down. ~Sparavi

---
Szarados watches the address on tiptoe from behind the throng of the crowd gathered ’round the doorway of the ramp to the Warchief’s chamber. Her armor clamoring and clanking as she shifts her waifish form to-and-fro in an attempt to get a better look at the Tauren female from her place behind the much larger troll and orc bodies in front of her, avoiding every urge to just force her way to the front of the procession.
She’s just as naïve as they’ve said, echo her thoughts as Ameyah goes through her prepared speech. Playing over the events that had taken place the previous evening in her mind’s eye, and only now seeing the wisdom of the elder bull’s actions. If there had been any doubt as to the senility of the old man it had been expunged from the general populous the moment he had played the fool in front of the Warchief. Yes, now she saw the big picture, brought into perspective by the secret that she had been told. I was not wrong to trust you, Tauren, oh-no-no. Hehehaha, thinks she, before realizing that she is whispering under her breath in her excitement, and clamming up altogether.
“Now I have only to deal vith that cursssed elf,” the Forsaken hisses aloud as she turns from the crowd and takes her leave. ~Szarados
---
Vileblossom watches unobtrusively from the sidelines, her attention more on the newer recruits than on Ameyah herself. She's seen the woman do this before. It's happened before and it will happen again.

She cants her head to the side as she considers. The cards never lie.. and here they are, acting out exactly as she had suspected. A smile plays on the corner of her lips as her gaze lands on Szarados, the non-believer. Yes, even she acts as expected.
The smile turns to an amused smirk as she slips around the gathering and takes her leave. ~Vileblossom
---
Riding past the gathered group he slows down to see what the ruckus is about. After listening to the tauren woman's apology, hearing the hurled insults and watching the milling he asks nobody in paticular...

"what dah hell did ah miss?" ~Isalumani
---
Q u o t e:"what dah hell did ah miss?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-
"Apologies given for slights ignored," Esis says in way of explanation. She partially covers her leather mouth with one skeletal hand while grasping her waist with the other. ~Esis
---
Dismounts his deathcharger and regards the forsaken woman laughing at him, "eh, mebbe be a bit moah 'pacific?"~Isalumani
---
She shrugs a bit, taking her hand from her mouth and pushing back mossy treads hanging from her scalp. "My knowledge of this is little more than you. Throngs pull me out of the Drag."~Esis
---
Soft creaking and clanking approaches the curious death knight from behind.
"The Elder Owakeri, the one that the self-righteous woman on the ramp speaks of..." a taurahe-accented tenor suddenly offers, "made an appeal tonight to the Warchief.
"He was addressing the matter of Silas Darkmoon slandering the Brightmoon Faire. Unfortunately... the Warchief was, shall we say... less than receptive." Sparavi's distaste and mild irritation is evident in every word he speaks, though the horned helm conceals his face. "Moreover it seems that his own daughter feels the need to step forward to save face ... her own." He shrugs, pauldrons creaking. "... at least it seems so to me." ~Sparavi
---
Steps up next to Spavari as he explains the situation, she smiles pleasantly while her eyes remain dark and scowling. In a friendly voice she speaks, "she is rather self righteous... you know, before she came along and forced Owakeri to retire, I was next in line. I was the old man's right hand... I was set to take over the Faire for him."
Tacitah sighs delicately, looking away from him to the others gathered, "things would have been so different were I in charge. I can honestly say I would not be up there apologizing for the old man." ~Tacitah
((Wanted to keep for our records before it was lost to the realm fourm monster, find the link [here]. Original post on 02/03/2009,

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 13

Author's Note: Originally posted on the Wyrmrest Accord Realm forums on 02/24/2009. Player replies have been included.

With tired but determined steps the tauren woman moves through Orgrimmar, mimicing her actions from a few hours ago in Thunder Bluff, practicing for her upcoming journey to Undercity, Dalaran and Shattrath. She pauses at the entrance to the Valley of Honor to pull out a notice painstakingly copied onto heavy parchment from her bag. Carefully she tacks the paper just below her own eye level, pausing only a moment to rest her hand against the pages words... not reading them, just resting for a sad moment.

Ameyah takes a deep breath and straightens up, wandering further into the Valley of Honor, her bag half full with duplicates of the notice.

Public Notice - The Brightmoon Faire

Please be advised that the Elder known as Owakeri Brightmoon is not in complete control of his faculties. If you find yourself engaging in conversation with Elder Brightmoon and suspect he may be lost and confused, please contact any member of the Brightmoon Faire to see he is safely returned to his family.

Elder Brightmoon is a tauren of average stature with slightly more than average girth. His fur is graying and slightly mottled. He is most often seen in a Greenweave Robe and the Brightmoon Faire tabard. One of his horns is adorned with a simple band of gold.

Please be advised that any mention of the Darkmoon Faire may result in increasingly agitated behavior from the Elder... especially references to Silas Darkmoon. We ask that you handle Elder Brightmoon with care and dignity. Returning him to the Faire safely may result in a reward.
Thank you, Ameyah Brightmoon Boss of the Brightmoon Faire

An accurate, if rough, sketch of Owakeri Brightmoon is included beneath the text.~Ameyah

((In reply:))
Kaz looks closely at the poster.
He never seemed that crazy to me, I mean I know other that are in less 'control of their faculties'.
If that is supposed to be a crack at me...
Oh don't get your knickers in a knot. Anyway I don't know why she is making a big deal about this, the old Tauren hasn't acted up in weeks.
Not since the outhouse indecent.
Kaz didn't notice the stares she was getting as she walked down the busy road, all the time chatting to.... herself. ~Kazandra

---

The old man sits at one of the cooking tables in the Filthy Animal of the Sunreaver's Sanctum in Dalaran. His shoulders are slumped as he carefully scribes on a piece of heavy parchment. He squints in the dim light of the tavern, his eyes a little rheumy. With one final swish of his brush he holds up the paper to admire his handiwork.

Smiling Owakeri hands it to the waiting orc, who in turns nods as she takes it, “thank you Elder.” The orc woman stops short as she turns to leave the table however, looking down at the poster in her hand… and the accurate, if rough, sketch of Owakeri now with the addition of a large handlebar moustache. Beneath the signature in bold letters is, to my biggest fan, love Owakeri Brightmoon.

The orc turns back to the table, “hey! Where’s my…” only to find the old tauren has already taken his leave. ~Owakeri

---

Lindiwe holds a one of the posters and take a close look at it. "Lost and confused... agitated behavior... Ameyah Brightmoon." Lindiwe says to herself with a sneer. Why does she insist on saying such things about the Old One? She is barely around to make such assumptions.
Lindiwe pauses and looks again to the poster, and then looks up to see the poster littered on every subsequent post. and a look of doubt crosses her face. What if I am the one who is mistaken? She looks back down to the poster and at the picture of Owakeri.

Lindiwe feels a tug on her robe that interrupts her thoughts about the situation. A Forsaken man and a large Tauren, young, man stand before her. The Forsaken gestures toward the paper, then toward the Tauren... he slurs "Rewardsssss....?" as the Tauren grins at her.

Lindiwe stares at the clearly confused and blind Forsaken for a moment before turning and making her way towards the gate of Orgimmar. ~Lindiwe

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 12

Author's Note: This was originally posted on the Wyrmrest Accord Realm forums 02/07/2009. Replies by other players have been included.

A young tauren woman, looking tired and haggard, walks from the protection of Shattrath city into Terokkar Forest and the location of the Darkmoon Faire. She hesitates at the entrance to the faire as several carnies start pulling down the sign, she allows her gaze to roam across the scene, taking note of the disgruntled workers disassembling the booths and fences of the Faire. Wincing inwardly she presses on, choosing to ignore the hostile looks at her bright green tabard.
Ameyah steps toward the podium in the center of the Faire grounds and the waiting figure of Silas Darkmoon, the gnome looks down on her (barely) from his vantage point with a look that clearly says "what do YOU want?"

Uncomfortable under his gaze she looks down at her hooves, shifting her weight as if that will lessen her burden. "I've come to apologize on behalf of my father, Owakeri, I heard about what happened... with the... with the outhouses. My father claims he didn't have anything to do with it, but I understand why you held him for as long as you did."

Ameyah looks up at the scowling gnome and smiles sheepishly, offering tentatively, "I was also wondering if you'd accept some money as compensation for the outfit that was ruined?"
Without a word Silas holds out his hand for the offered money. Ameyah, keeping her expression under careful control, gives him the money and leaves the Faire grounds quickly. ~Ameyah

((In reply:))
I heard! I heard!
I heard it from this! Owakeri called for help!
Owakeri said he was kidnapped! KIDNAPPED, I tell you!
Who would do such a thing to a druid! I tell you what---the name "Darkmoon" is a name I'll keep an ear out for, in the future. No one should treat druids this way! We are peaceful people.
((The stone device is supposed to be the in-game chat channel. :D ))~Cheekie

---

Never one to pass up an opportunity to see Ameyah humbled, Tacitah made sure to get a good spot to watch the whole event.. conveniently within earshot. She smugly smiled through the entire apology to the disgruntled (and a tad odorous) gnome and was about to leave when she heard Cheekie's indignant cry of kidnapping. Tacitah paused and listened to the tauren, her lips slowly curling into a sneer. "He wasn't kidnapped. He was legitimately detained for his actions, despite what he may have convinced his followers. And I must say none of this would have happened had Ameyah not come by and taken over."
~Tacitah (also me)

---

Meanwhile, back in Azeroth, Oesah wonders what the Elder has been up to... He hadn't seen him since the Market. ~Oesah

---

Kaz had no Idea what to think it this point. She was attending to her own 'issues' when she heard the old Tauren's plead for help yesterday over the faires vox box network. Apparently the gnome faire master locked up the old guy after finding someone tampered with his outhouse.
Kaz watched the scene at the Darkmoon Faire from afar today. She thought it a pity that the poor Tauren women had to make amends, but figured that was the way of this carnival business. She looked around and recognized no one as she had herself just joined the Brightmoon faire.
"This may turn to be an interesting job after all." ~Kazandra

---

Sparavi did not need to stop the young Shu'halo woman and ask her just why she was making a swift pace past him out into Terokkar; he could read it on her face, her tense posture. And as she passed, a knot began to form in his belly as he, by contrast, made a relaxed pace for the portal to Orgrimmar.

This whole damned thing is starting to get out of control, he thought with mounting exasperation as he removed his helmet and shook out his ashen gray plait (having decided to forego dyeing it its former red this week). The horse's silently flaming hooves went tlot-tlot-tlot-tlot-tlot in the mostly empty terrace; he spared a nod of greeting to nearby Sha'tar. That ogre and I were going to come to blows.

And he had no qualms whatsoever in splitting the Darkmoon thug's belly in seven directions. But it would have been astonishingly undiplomatic in the face of mounting tension between the Faires. "If I catch that crazy old man or his gibbering carnies snooping around these grounds again, there ain't gonna BE a bond to pay. I'll just have a few new animal attractions!" The gnome had screeched in indignant rage.

HAD Owakeri really been up to something unsavory? Kuno's message over the Stone was irritable; the big bull had been annoyed at having to hear the pleas for help during Story Circle and, unfortunately, wasn't too specific - he'd dismissively drawled something about the old coot, an outhouse, a cage, and a gnome covered in poop. Owakeri's only going to make this little feud boil even further out of control, the Hakkari began to inwardly lament. What was he thinking? And there goes his daughter once again, dashing into the fray to spare her own image once again. It was all right on the cusp of sinking his overall mood that evening.

Until he vividly recalled the sight of Silas Darkmoon coated in excrement.

The resulting hearty guffaw echoed throughout the Terrace and even made Khadgar pause and stare; A'dal himself briefly turned and shimmered in curiosity, before emitting the equivalent of a shrug and going back to whatever business Naaru usually conduct. ~Sparavi

---

Glances around as everyone seems to be leaving and looks over at Silas Darkmoon. She nods to the gnome and taps the side of her nose with the tip of her index finger, then nods her head in the direction of a nearby stand of trees. Non-chalantly she moves away from the faire grounds and slips behind the trees. Several minutes later Silas Darkmoon also disappears behind the trees. Voices can be heard faintly from that general direction, but without getting closer the words are indistinct. ~Tacitah

---

Kaz was watching all the people disperse from the area, and was about to vacate herself when she saw something curious; Silas Darkmoon abruptly walking towards a thick strand of trees. Maybe he is scared to use the outhouse now. Kaz thought as she chuckled to herself.
Kaz decided that that might be it, but perhaps there is something else. She leaned back onto the tree in the back to see if Silas would come back out, soon. ~Kaz

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 11

The sun was setting behind the mountains that walled Mulgore off from the rest of Azeroth. The deep rust red light that filtered through the cracks in the quiet tend was enough to see that it was empty. That is to say there was a small table, a pallet for sleeping... and a stone, resting on the small table. Anyone who took the time to look a little closer might recognize it as Owakeri Brightmoon's hearthstone. Under the stone was a note, scrawled hastily, and apparently torn from a bound book.

Gone fishing. If I don't come back, no, Tomahna, you can't have my stuff.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 10

So uh, I -may- have lost some important experiences when I missed out on actually raising my own children (except for Nasnani). My family is in danger and it's really pissing me off, I'm too old to do anything effective. Too damn old. I think people forget that, I'm in great shape fairly good shape for an old man, I've got a fantastic attitude and great stamina, it's enough for people to think I'm much younger than I am.

But, you know, I'm feeling it. I was tired before I even reached Dire Maul... why the fel Lindiwe was at Dire Maul is beyond me... I tripped over my own hooves and took a header, right into a dark pit. Next thing I knew some creature straight out of the Nightmare was on top of me. Have cat, half.... something, with a healthy dose of "plant" thrown in there for the sake of confusion. Despite being distracted with my entire life flashing before my eyes (it took a while) I couldn't help but notice the creature didn't act like the mindless undirected "thing" it appeared to be.

Yeah, I know sounds crazy... maybe I should add that to my list of ailments. If it wasn't for the wound I might have thought I'd drifted off to the big green sleep myself. Truth be told I sometimes wonder if what I'm seeing is real... I mean what if I'm dreaming and my dream is manifesting around me making it feel more real? You'd think I would dream of nice rolling plains and a fabulous meal and not abusive and moody children. But this begs the question... if I think I might be crazy, that means I'm not, right? Maybe it's the same with the dream... if I think I might be dreaming, I'm not. Right? Bah! you're a BOOK, you can't answer me.

The most remarkable thing, I mean about this attack, is that it didn't kill me. I don't know if something scared it off or what, but I broke my arm and my horn in the fall, that means the beast only got me in the side. Once the well-meaning freaks of the Faire got it cleaned out I could easily see it was only a flesh wound! Mind you, if I hadn't gotten back to Dalaran and contacted Stravos I'm sure the taint would have spread, that would have been a slow and painfu-
The entry stops midsentence.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 9

In the dark of the night, in the deep of the woods, (( I've been watching Horton Hears a Who WAY too much lately )) a looming shadow darts, followed by the faint sound of poorly suppressed giggling. From the sound it can only be the old man, Owakeri, what he's doing in the middle of a cospe of trees in the middle of the night... apparently writing in his journal. He settles down against a sturdy tree, glances around, giggles again and begins writing furiously. When he's finished he squeels in a sound like a human school-girl and gets up to go, the page slipping from his journal unnoticed.

This one time, in Goldvillage... oh no really, it's just too much. If you're reading this, put it down now... I AM A POWERFUL WARLOCK AND I'VE ENCHANTED THIS BOOK TO EXPLODE IF YOU DON'T SPEAK THE PASSWORD!

So I was in Goldvillage, in disguise... I know! Right!? it pays to know a tinkerer or two... this orb thingy doesn't just change me into a gnome anymore. It's fabulous! I can check up on the expansion of the Faire AND THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW IT! Well, Sachelles does, but she was picked to run it for a reason... crafty elf.

Anyway, I was in Goldvillage... (back in my day it was called Goldshire, but these humans breed so much, it must be a village by now!)... checking my map to get to Storm... er... Stormgale or whatever. Without my kodo I can't find my way to certain places... mostly places I usually avoid. At any rate, my map was sketched from memory... my memory... which means I was lost. I got all the looks in the family, my brother got the sense of direction. This lovely Draenei lady came and sat with me while I muddled my way through my own sketches. We were momentarily distracted by two more of her kind who were snogging away at the fire, but they soon went upstairs for some "privacy".

So I chatted with Eva... did I mention my orb lets me speak common? and hollared at the lovebirds to keep it down, who knew Draenei were so noisy? we lamented at the lack of Mulgore Firewater (that might have been the problem for the fiesty couple) and discussed her predicament on being dead and all. I assured her she didn't smell the least bit rotten and asked her if she thought her skills could be put to good use in the Faire. After explaining that I didn't want her to whore herself out.... she agreed to at least come see the show!

After our visit she directed me to Stormgale and we went our seperate ways. SHE NEVER SUSPECTED A THING!! It was great! Like... it was exhilerating, like... like the first successful con you pull off.

Author's Note: Sachelles and Eva are both player characters. The role play that generated this post was on my human alt, named Okaweri.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 8

Fabulous!! HAHAHA!! Of course I can't write about it until I'm done using it, or I'm dead... but I can't write when I'm dead, so I have to finish USING it before I tell any of you nosy folk what I'm doing. BWA AH AH AH AH!! You nosy folk, especially my kids that would never dream of reading my private autobiography, don't be surprised if I disappear for days at a time.

Owakeri sets down his journal and squeels a bit like a human school-girl as he rushes off.

Author's Note: This entry is a prelude to Owaker in-character discovering an Orb that allows him to shapeshift... into a human. I role played on an alt named Okaweri.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 7

I'm often asked about my friendly competition with Silas Darkmoon... while I will always answer that it's none of their bloody business why I choose to speak out against that gnome's immoral activities, I felt it prudent to make a record of the events in order to ensure my children carry on the grudge.

Many years ago, when I recovering from the loss of Kinati, Bermurhall and Onatak, I came to work for Silas Darkmoon for a time. Don't be surprised, he has been known to hire across many boundaries (he will swindle anyone regardless of silly things like "language barriers"). At first I was nothing more than muscle, but I soon worked my way up to "special effects" thanks to my close ties with nature. Working for a gnome is not it's all cracked up to be. In case you hadn't noticed... he's a tad long winded. It was impossible to get any useful information out of him. And this generation's tub-of-lard body guard is no better, I'm not even sure he can say his own name, let alone hold a conversation.

At any rate, I must have been doing fairly well because Silas Darkmoon sat up and took notice. Note that when a gnome "sits up" he still doesn't clear my knees. That's when he asked me to start doing "special jobs" for him, especially when the Faire was in Mulgore. It's not like he asked me to pick pockets or anything, he had little kids doing that for him, but a huge (and rather handsome) tauren prancing around in a Barbaric Cloth Robe is definately something people stop to stare at. When that happens, the kids weave through the crowd and unburden them.

That's right, when Silas Darkmoon says to "come to the Faire, lighten your spirit" what he really means is "lighten your pocketbook". It might have been humiliating, dancing around half naked dressed in pink and purple but I was still distracted from the loss of my first family. Menawa found me though, that's my first born, and the look on his face when he saw...

Well, I told Silas Darkmoon I wasn't going to be his side show any longer and he pulled out that damned contract he made me sign when we first started up. Blasted Gnome, he knows I can't read his language... or understand it. Heck I can't even understand him when he's speaking Orcish!! Words were exchanged, my son left, I stayed. The next four years were very slow... very slow indeed. When I finally finished out my contract... well... there were more words, and a few blows, and some pulling of hair and a few hearty tugs of some undergarments... it ended my term but started the fued. That was 49 years ago... coming up on the 50th anniversary actually.

The 50th anniversary of the event that sparked the creation of the BEST FAIRE IN AZEROTH!! Sounds like an excuse to have a party!

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 6

Ooooh Seelaya Ironhorn, you sultry vixen you. I still remember the way the wind would lift the edge of your skirt and show the cute little designs your friends had painted on your hooves. How the sunlight reflected off of Bloodhoof lake and made you squint with a cute little smile. Back in the day you had a body that could stop a stampede...

Too bad you have absolutely no personality.Seriously woman, "Owaren"? Subtle, really subtle.

Well it turns out I had a few more family than I knew about. Owaren "Ironhorn" is the latest member to the Brightmoon Family, and I don't mean just because he joined the Faire. His mother, who is so rutting gorgeous, would have lost her hooves if they weren't attached and has a memory only marginally better than a goldfish. She named her... er... our... son for me, but she couldn't remember my name and so named him "as close as she could".

I'm surprised Elder Ironhorn didn't come after me... and by Elder I mean her father, cause I'm actually older than he is. Actually, after doing the math... even my first born is older than Elder Ironhorn!

Well the boy obviously got my looks, lucky chap, so pray to the Earth Mother he didn't get his mother's smarts.

Author's Note: Owaren is a player character, Seelaya was made up to tie him into the story.

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 5

Ever had one of those really long days? the one that starts before the sun comes up and seems to go after the second moon has risen... but like two nights later? You feel bogged down, sluggish, inarticulate... really, really, tired? Some days that's what old age feels like oh... mid afternoon. I mean... my first kid was born over 70 years ago! Seven decades! Lindiwe could have lived her life to this point twice and still have room to spare!

Well, regardless... I help myself to stay feeling young by dating the more spry and youthful tauren women I meet. That's how I ended up with my third wife. I'll be frank here, we had no intention of getting married, and it wasn't like it was with Kinati (while her dad forced the issue I was happy to take part). She got pregnant and the pressures of society and fingers on triggers really go a long way to making a tauren see the light.

Who knows, maybe, if we'd been left to our own devices, we might have moved past lust and discovered love... but forcing the issue really made the marriage taste a bit bitter. She resented me for my part in saddling her with new responsibilities... I resented her for the effective shackle she put around my ankle. That started a spiral of near-hatred that soured any friendship we had at the start. To this day I can't even write out her name.

Our children suffered the most for it, Ameyah and Akikta (born in that order) left home early on to go for training with the shaman, ignoring a mother and father that practiced as druids. Ameyah is still stoic and immersed in her work... she's unhappy and I don't know of anything that will make her smile sincerely. Akikta hasn't been seen in years, though I saw his mentor and his mother recently (I quickly went the other way, I think I might lose a limb if I got too close to her) so I'm sure he's around.

Well spilt milk and all, right? It's a good thing I hide this autobiography so well and that none of my sneaky children will think to go looking for it to read things they don't need to read before I'm dead and gone. I think if I knew one of my beloved children were reading this behind my back it just might kill me, my heart would simply give out and I'd keel over. Deader than a doorknob. Cold as the Lich King and about as animated as Silas Darkmoon's profit margin. It would be like a knife in the back to even KNOW that my children might disobey me and read my private thoughts in a secretly stashed book. So it's a good thing none of my kids would EVER do something like that. Shuffle off this mortal coil and you know, stuff.

Author's Note: Ameyah and Akikta are played by me and my husband, originally in Pack Spirit. I continued to play Ameyah in Brightmoon Faire while Akikta was left unplayed... and apparently missing! The mentor mentioned is a player character, Onatam of Pack Spirit.