Another scribbled note....
Bloodmark,
I knew the Tribe would not fail me, my sire's blade is returned! A small mercy it is true, but a mercy nonetheless. Vashnarz Talonslayer, a wonderful she-orc, returned it. Devilstep has also agreed to fix it. Should I tell him what I last used it for? No, he would disapprove and as much as it grieves me to admit it I do still seek the old fool's approval and guidance at times. There was an inscription on the blade too I had not seen before. "You Can't Have Slaughter Without Laughter!" - my sire had a revolting sense of humour, one I miss. You should have seen Krogon's face when I told him what it said!
Did I mention Devilstep brought me back a gift? I do not think I did. A green gem of unusual properties - it allows the user to read the texts of fel without fear of being tainted. I wonder how it works and if, like all things, it's abilities come at a price. No matter, I find it to be quite the useful tool, for no longer must I think of my sanity when dealing with Warlockish script. I shall keep it with me even though the spirits do not like it and I cannot seem to place it's origin with my incantations or rituals. Disturbing.
The latest hunt for the spirits was a failure. The entrails I read gave me more questions than answers. They hinted at troubled times, a head removed but unity too. What, for the love of the spirits, does that mean?! "Oh sorry orc, you're going to be decapitated, others are going to be upset but the Tribe will be fine without you" - what kind of a message is that?! Honestly, as time goes on the more I realise I must be the worst Shaman ever. Others seem to give so little and gain so much. Am I perhaps doing things wrong? I admit I am still new to the path but, I thought I had struck a balance with the elements and spirits that seemed acceptable. From observation I am starting to think that is not the case. Bah, and now I have depressed myself once again. Northrend seems to be sucking away my inner strength before I can even land on it's shores.
I send this letter minutes before leaving for Northrend. I had hoped to hear word of you, yet I have not. When we reach our destination I will write to you telling you where we are - I still hope I will wake in the night to find you there. Hope is all any orc has.
Sharpeye
P.S. If someone is reading these and not passing them on to Rargnasha: I will personally find you, tie you down and place hot coals on your stomach. Your screams as they slowly burn through you will fill me with joy.