Dear Lady Idryl Bitterose,

I hope you will forgive the random nature of such a letter and grant me your patience in reading it fully. I am somewhat of an academic, a scholar of the magical arts; all the magical arts to some degree, I try. In particular, the arts of sorcery that I have on good word that you practice are of immense interest to me.

Through words with some Tribe members I have heard that you are a knowledgeable and eager practitioner who might assist me with some of the questions on implementation and theory. If the rumours are true, please, I would beg of your assistance in my own research and experimentation. If not, please kindly disregard and accept all due apologies for the consumption of your valuable time.

With sincerest regards,


P.S. I am most eager to resume my experiments and should you be willing and able to help, I would gladly share much of my results.

Dear Simply J.J.,

How flattered I am to receive a letter of such praise. I am hardly a master, though it is through natural skill and much time and research that I am able to call myself somewhat masterful in specific spells. Much intelligence eludes me still, but then, I am in the practice of chasing folk lore and simple rumours of mythological proportions.

I would be most delighted to have another scholar to correspond with, as I find myself rather isolated with my craft. Where you looking, specifically, for how to perform a certain spell or perhaps just a general discussion on the theory of practitioning?

You write eloquently. I look forward to finding another letter from you in the near future with more information on your pursuits.


Lady Bitterose

*Many letters later*

Wise Lady Bitterose,

Your series of suggestions and corrections were invaluable! I don’t know yet the outcome of the latest experiment as I write you forthwith to thank you for the information in my excitement.

Already the newest test proceeds ahead further than ever before thanks to your insight. I fear we are still some ways off from accomplishing the end goal, if indeed this series of tests CAN lead to the goal we seek, and our distance slows matters somewhat, but I feel confident that, with your incalculably valuable assistance it is realistic to expect to someday succeed along these lines.

As I sit in my library adjacent to my work area, I find myself almost over come with excitement to see the results of our first collaborative work. If only I could have plucked from your mind such pearls of insight long ago, I could have saved myself years of work, no doubt.

Further updates shall be upcoming as they develop, but in the meantime please accept my sincerest appreciation and thanks. I only hope you will continue to lend such invaluable assistance to me, despite the extensive time investment it must require from you in research and calculations alone.

Anxiously yours,


Dearest J.J.,

You could never know how much I look forward to your updates on your progress. The mountains here are lonely, isolated. It’s any wonder I’m able to receive mail at all. It feels as though I haven’t even seen another person in months, though I’ve lost count of the endless days and weeks.

My food and everything I need is delivered to me by purely magical means. It’s a wonder you found me, though you’re obviously quite skilled and resourceful. My own studies have been progressing well, and the current spell I am working on mastering has become closer and closer to perfection, though I’m unable to procure some final ingredients I require.

I wonder, then, if you could perhaps include some very specific regents and perhaps herbs, should you find them in good order? I will be needing lichbloom in great quantity and several darker regents you may find in the underbelly of Silvermoon, should you be familiar with the darker artists there. Demonic regents, as it were, if you could be so kind.

I will, of course, pay your for your time and services, or perhaps offer you a trade of some manner.

I most eagerly anticipate your reply, dear J.J. It brightens my dreary life.



Sweetest Id,

I sent the report updating my progress prior to getting your last letter, so regrettably it included none of the items you requested.

Attached you will find copious amounts of neatly stacked lichbloom, picked by yours truly from the highest peaks of Northrend. Should it not be enough, you need but merely give word. Beneath that you will find the particular demonic regents you require, likewise, if you need more, just ask!

As for payment, sweet Id: it is I who am indebted to you. Take these and any others you require in the future with my sincerest kindness and appreciation.

Your extreme seclusion seems troublesome to you on many fronts, my valued friend. I assumed at first it was the eccentric choice of a genius sorceress desirous of forbidding intrusions on her study and experiments. Now I am sure of it. However, if your seclusion is troubling you so, I urge you to reconsider the situation.

In any event, you have my eternal gratitude, and throughout your isolation you may rely on I, your devoted colleague, to lend what assistance I am capable. Plants and herbs are no impediment, except in rare cases where freshness may be an issue that our mail correspondence forbids. Purchased items are also of little concern, as our growing partnership is proving fruitful enough to warrant many times the expense.

Thinking of you,


My dearest friend,

The herbs are perfect. You must have very skilled, agile hands to have picked them so lovely. You achieved the rare little bulb at the bottom in nearly all. Very advanced, even for a masterfully skilled herbalist.

The isolation was comforting at first, but I never realized how much I yearn to hear another voice that isn’t marred by demonic. I had wrongly assumed I would learn much, but I feel as though my own skills have stagnated. I truly envy your ability to grow so under my tutelage.

Perhaps this was the wrong choice…



Magnificent sorceress,

It pains me to hear of your tortured isolation. Especially as our correspondence grows and I find myself wondering more upon the mighty sorceress that dwells on the other end of our communications; that hand which writes the beautiful script and the magnificence of your fel mastery.

Should you find yourself in need of leaving isolation, know that I will make myself available unto you with all due haste and commitment. I would gladly lend my assistance to you as you have to me. Perhaps even arrange to tour you about my own facilities, the library and lab areas I so often find myself in as I write to you frequently.

Frequent it is too. Our correspondence dwarfs any other I’ve engaged in, yet I still find myself not only eager to get each letter off, but consistently wishing I had wrote to you just a little bit more of our work or simply of personal matters, which I find a growing interest in about you.

I am oh so pleased to hear your praise for the herbs I supplied. Each one was picked with exquisite care with you on my mind. Made especially uneasy due to these large, troll digits I wield against such delicate herbs.

Ever yours,


Her writing is a bit scrawled at first, though it smoothes out quickly

Dear J.J.,

Foolish am I for my stupendous assumptions about your form.

Never have I known a troll whom was interested and knowledgeable in the fel, let alone one who wrote so gracefully.

Then, I never have much known a troll, but for the brutes that snarl at me as they charge my tender body. There are rumours of dark trolls here in these mountains, though I haven’t seen one. I sometimes think that I maybe wouldn’t mind seeing one, to satiate my curiousity and, perversely, to fulfill my craving for some form of contact.

I do ramble today, though, don’t I. It’s just been so long, and I fear my mind may not be able to handle much more of the loneliness. I had firstly assumed I may have a visitor in my time here, though it seems that I have been forgotten by all but you, mysterious J.J., with the apparent body of a troll and a mind of… I hope you don’t take offense, but in my experience, something much more capable and self aware.

I think often of you, dear J.J., though I fear my mind must develop a new idea of your physical matter.

Thinking of you,


Endearing Id,

I thank you for your gracious understanding. Civility does not come easy between our peoples or members thereof.

Worry not about your so-called rambles, they bring a smile to my lips or a tender pang to my heart with each new correspondence between us. I’ve grown rather attached to you, in spite of the phenomenal distance that separates us, geographically and, as you pointed out, even in our own minds as they fail to even comprehend the exact nature of each others precise form.

Your letters occupy an exalted spot atop one of my writing desks in my otherwise often chill or oppressively hot laboratories, they comfort me in the dreary dark when I’m alone but for my experiments and ingredients. Yet, as you say, my mind can not put you to exact form. In my thoughts you are most often a mighty vision of sorcery; both powerful and elegantly striking. Your expertise and wealth of knowledge seems to fit no other image.

Then sometimes you soften as I read of your troubled isolation, into frail beauty assaulted by indescribable forces of loneliness. Either vision creates a longing with me: one to reach out and touch the wealth of wisdom you hold, the other to lend a comforting hand.

Forgive my own overly personal ramblings. It’s inappropriate of me to assume so with a lady of your unique caliber, but my mind does wander freely beyond the normal bounds of civility in this format of purely mental and emotional expression, bereft of physicality.

Truly yours,


*A few letters later*


I write this having packed my finest robes and rarest books and most delicate magical items. I apologize for my brazenness in this act, but I can no longer handle the silence. The winter is strong and harsh here, the snow piling up midway up the door, and the wind pounds at the windows for hours each evening. I doubt I have gotten more than the briefest of moments sleep in the past while, and my mind is focused on pursuits that do not always entail magic.

Your letters…

I am returning to Silvermoon and will take residence within a hostel or find a bedsitting room to rest in. My safety is in danger in these wild and isolated regions, and I am more of a danger to myself than any at these moments. A youthful woman is not to be locked away to rot, and no one should have the power to tell her different.

I should like to meet you for coffee as soon as I arrive. I realize I’m being awfully presumptuous, but your letters cry out to me, and the evenings are long and filled with thoughts of you.

The latest storm has barricaded me for days at least, but I hope to depart quickly. Please, J.J., write to me and tell my dreams are foolish and childish and break me quickly. Don’t leave me to languish with ideas of what the future could hold.

Childishly yours,


Cherished Id,

None should dare stand in your way between you and the object of your desires. Least of all, me, your devoted friend, colleague and more.

I will not dare shatter your dreams, or call them childish; for intuition tells me we share dreams when distance forbids us from sharing even a handshake or glimpses. Dreams of where our studies could take us and much more. They tell me our future holds much together, greatness, power and something sweeter still.

Thoughts of meeting you at last fill my mind every moment, and now that I’ve gotten this letter I do believe my heart literally races with excitement. I will save the latest report of my experimental findings to show you for our inevitable meeting, sweet Id.

Know I will see to it that I am awaiting your arrival in Silvermoon; for nothing could keep me from it! You shall know me by the hat and gloves I will wear: the finest black apparel I own, with gold and emerald embossing upon the gloves. Such fine things will stand out upon such a troll as I.

I hope you get this last correspondence before you leave your home, and rest easy knowing that I will aid you with lodgings and moving in as necessary or desired. It is my own sincerest–and most selfish–desire that your residence at a more accessible location will become quickly permanent. For I have insatiable desires to pick your mind of all its wealth of knowledge, and to grow familiar with you in person, rather than merely through fibrous paper and rich inks.



A hastily scrawled note, many ink blots on the page, obviously written quickly and impatiently

Most cherished friend,

The wind blows still at my door, the snow piling higher and higher. My claustrophobia and desire urges me to leave, quickly, at once. If I don’t, I know I won’t last the rest of the year. I will climb from the window and directly take flight. I expect to be in Silvermoon within the week, and I will send a courier boy to fetch you for me.

I believe you will know me at sight. I will tell the boy of where you will find me.

With desire,

Idryl Bitterose

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