A letter to Cynlan Dawnstrider

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((Yay, a letter! I'm getting ready for work right now, but I'll reply as soon as I can!))

((The following letter is written in Cynlan's practiced calligraphy, accompanied by a small padded box that contains what might be an unmarked pocketwatch large enough to fill the palm of your hand. Upon opening it, however, a holographic image of Cynlan Dawnstrider, decked out in his Mark III powered armor with the goggles pulled up on top of his head, stands proudly from the surface of the device. It's a static image, but of comparable quality to the kind found in Ulduar and Halls of Lightning.))

Dear Beaujolais,

I was very surprised to find that Xadormi retrieved for me a letter from you in the course of an errand recently. Surprised, but pleasantly so.

I'm not sure if you know of my present situation (or future situation, as it were), so I'll tell you as much as I'm able without violating my pact with the bronze dragonflight. Presently, I am 244 years ahead of your current year, and fighting an altogether different war. The infinite dragonflight abound in this era for some reason, and every time we think we're closing in on their true purpose here, another paradox presents itself. I've been here some four months already, and clashed with them more than I've fought with the Alliance in any year after the sin'dorei joined with the Horde. Truly, it seems this world of ours is an eternal battlefield upon which a never-ending game of chess is played.

Your potions are a gracious and touching gift, though the one that has been opened first is the one that is not a potion at all. I do anticipate that each will be used in due time, especially the one that eases stress. The burden placed on me here is a heavy one, and it seems my reputation as a dragonslayer allied with the Wyrmrest Accord can be thanked for my current situation. The one tragedy about being brought in to lead an army against the infinite dragonflight is that I've slain far too many to keep in my tally. Scores of them have fallen by my blade alone, and I would be hard-pressed to estimate how many have fallen under the onslaught of my fighting forces here. At least I'm getting an excellent education in the powers of the infinite flight.

I wish I could send you some small trinket from this era, but the pact I must uphold forbids it. Instead, you will find that the package accompanying this letter contains one of my last inventions before I was brought to this future battlefield - an advanced image emitter the likes of which has not been seen outside of the Titan complexes in Northrend and, indeed, made to the same specifications as laid out by the Titans themselves. The two-dimensional projector that was part of my powered armor pales in comparison to the three-dimensional image contained in this compact device. I had intended to mass-produce it for our scouting units, but I have only the one prototype that is now in your possession. On it, you'll find an image of the only subject I could find that would willingly submit to being scanned by the device - me. You have my permission, of course, to erase the image and replace it with one of your choosing.

I should wrap this up - it's late here, and we're pushing to reach the Infinite Wasteland by nightfall tomorrow. I'll need all my wits about me to see us safely to our destination. I hope all is well with you, and that fortune shines upon you in all your endeavors. Please give my regards to the others.

With the utmost sincerity,

Cynlan Dawnstrider
Blood Knight Order