My dearest Sixforge,
Recently I got hooked on a journal written by a night elf written during a voyage from Old Gadgetzan to Booty Bay. But it's completely killing me, half of it is missing. While out searching for a new copy from Bronze and Nobility with the dreaded Eva, a most curious happening washed over me, sending me tumbling-- like dust out into an endless sea.
Eva, your favorite person in the whole world by now, needed to buy her books for university and came along with me. Her abhorred voice combined with topics for conversation less deep than what I would expect from a goldfish rotted my brain until about half way in. I ran across a rival composer from the all boys religious college I attend, Ricky-senpai. He was wearing his school uniform. Of course I was wearing mine-- you never have to ask.
The world is a web of interlocking strings, old friend, tugged at by the same forces that bind our hearts. Fate would have him to have a fag hag of some sort along with him from the same school as our Eva. The tension was palpable but all I could think of was getting a copy of that journal the whole time. I literally blanked out for a moment while they were cat fighting.
When I came to, Eva had defeated the other girl in mortal combat and needed some of my words to calm her down. In that moment talking to her, Sixforge, I heard the gears of fate move like an old clock tower jolting to a start. I suddenly knew what to say to her and when I uttered those words, magic happened. I won't get into the nitty gritties for you just in case you decide to get jealous, but essentially, she became a 6/5 and solo cleared his entire board.
Suddenly and beyond all probability, a Yeti trumped gaily into our alleyway and became positively enraged. And Eva doesn't even flinch! She charges right into him, getting slashed in the stomach and killing the beast with a single rage-kick to the groin. I drop a circle of healing, more moment-transcending words, and then my shoujo light spirit, Yagami, showed up randomly. Eva and Yagami shut down all of Ricky-senpai's taunts and misdirects as I thought restlessly about the end of that journal I so desired.
I was as surprised as Ricky when our professor, Temple Protector-sensei, showed up with evidence making Yagami's argument more powerful. Tears immediately began streaming down his thin, perfectly chiseled face and he publicly confessed his emotional instability around me, granting the title of class president-senpai to me from that day onward.
The moment was over as quickly as it began, Sixforge. Will I do harm or good with my title? Will Eva and I ever become momentary lovers? I am really not sure. What matters is that I found a copy of that journal. Feel very honored, my love. I sat down to write you this letter BEFORE finding out why he was friends with that gnomish slave and why a fellow night elf would be trying to secretly poison him.
Bonus chapter! Translated from Yeti to common, free of charge by Blizzard Entertainment:
Voices yibberin'ed. Yeti grumberlin's unheard'un fur centuries washed a'over me, makin' that blizzard look a'like springun. They shower'd me wit' fish'uns of who I might be and how I might'un live. Peace, harminy, a fitted-well suit from Stormwind's Warehouse, the fish'uns shower'd me with know'uns of all.
Close'un to peace, this one was. I strode'un through a'Stormwind confidently. The only hoomins 'round were empty guards and tasty gnome'un, and no one lis'ns to the gnome'un. I strolled into an alley a'fur a haircut when I met eye to eye with the fangless devil hisself, Anduin. The hoomin whose letters I tirelessly deliver'd. The meatthing whose sexual escapade'uns and dickish behaviour stands in direct opposition to the Yeti code'un. I lost'd my cool and I roar'd. A myst'ry woomun approach'd with a rage'un outside a'my comprehension. I slash'd wit force that has rested strong males of her species, but a'not even a'flinchin. Her foot drive'd up between m'leg'uns. I feel'd pain.
All light fade'n to darky. All darky fade'n to here, to you, 'un to yer question. But Yeti swap, query fur query. Who--'r you?