[This letter has been stained with a few dark spatters, which on closer inspection smell strongly of hops. The writing is a bit looser that normal]
My beloved, we are victorious!
The unholy king is dead, his sword shattered and his power broken. Such a savage battle I have never seen…It will be many days until my wounds fully close, but I will not heal them…I shall bear these scars as proudly as any orc may. Of what happened after he was slain…I do not know. I trust you enough to tell you, but I must in person—I fear spreading rumors if this letter is read. Suffice to say there is a still a little caution in my mind, even as I celebrate with my warband. And quite the celebration we have! Feasting and drinks and stories, and salutes to those who have died honorable deaths as we fought to the spire. I will have an aching head tomorrow, I’m sure, but I will not be stingy with my toasts on such a day! Even the ground itself shakes and quakes in awe at our deeds.
No, I’m not drinking the caraway stuff again. I do remember what happened last time. Well. What you told me of it, at least.
I have heard that once our celebration is done we will pack up and disband, taking the zeppelins to our homelands again. I should be in Orgrimmar soon, beloved, and then we can be together again…I have missed you so much, and in so many ways. May your work be done swiftly!
[This letter is written and packaged plainly, with no extraordinary markings or scents]
Beloved, I have returned to Orgrimmar. It is good to be out of that armor, but the happenings here are ominous, and I fear I cannot journey south as planned. You’re certain you cannot make the trip north?
The earth rumbles here as well, and I can more plainly sense the unease amongst the spirits. The Warchief travels to Outlands to seek counsel from the Earthen Ring, and names Garrosh his successor in his absence. He has problems already to solve…there are strange people in the city now, preaching of doom and destruction to Azeroth. Normally, they’d be scoffed at, but with the quakes coming so often and strongly (as I’ve no doubt you’ve noticed), there are many growing worried…and some going missing. There’s rumors that these doomsayers are part of some cult or another…the Warchief should just round them up and deal with them. I’ve had enough cultists to last me until doomsday.
I am to assist the Earthen Ring and the Blood Guards in these matters. Hopefully, it’ll all be over quickly and we can have peaceful days together soon.
Be safe, Zulrea.