Spiritual: The Pilgrimage

"Whispers in the wind, foretelling of what is to come,
a prophecy of war, famine and darkness, in such times
we need the Light more than ever. To guide us and lead
us upon a path that mayhap can lead to a better future?
For it is only Light that can shatter darkness and it is
only by giving aid to those in need and respect your allies
and friends that we can seek this more fortunate fate."









People are starting to gather in front of Cathedral of Light in Stormwind. Something big is about to happend. The expression on peoples faces tell us about pride and honor, but also sorrow and it's clearly that someone is greatly missed. This is the annual pilgrimage in Uther the Lightbringers name! We march to honor his memory, we march to honor the light!

As all have gathered we start to march. Thoughts of the past comes to mind and we all walk silently for a while. But after this while people starts to raise their voices, starts to get to know new persons who will become new friends and are sharing thoughts and memories between eachother.

The air is filled with joy and laughter as we move on through Blackrock Mountains. Enemies are hiding this day when the light marches on.









We reach the tomb just when the sun is about to set and Maelmoor Lightbringer held a speech about the greatness of Uther the Lightbringer. Not one eye is dry when he finish his speech and in great spirit we all salute the statue of Uther himself.








This evening was about one man and the honor and pride he gave to the generations after him. Uther the Lightbringer will never be forgotten and his teachings about the light will live forever.
If we keep the memory of Uther, and honor his teachings he will never die.









"You are a great champion, When you fought the ground shook, the sky opened and mere mortals parted.
Parted the way to victory, where you'll meet us in the everlasting light.
Where we'll kneel down in gratitude for all your glory."
Old poem from the Aisling Family.

Whitestar Magazine© Article from -Alakina Aisling

Politic : A Bal in Theramore

A great Bal had been organised in Theramore gathering the best society of the Alliance. The intiative come from the Elder of Diplomacy, Calisar Ravencrest, member of the new Circle of Darnassus. The goal, as will explain in her speech the elegant Kaldorei, is to create bonds and tights relations between the differents Alliance nations. Diplomats and Ambassadors from whole Azeroth have been invited. A crowd of well dressed dwarves, humans and night elves invade the Mage Tower of Theramore. Only few gnomes are present, and a couple of draeneis. The atmosphere is pleasant, the drinks are refreshing and the snacks are tasty. People discuss together, they share opinions, seem to be interested to another culture. The Bal is already a success.
Following the Speech of Calisar and the Paladin Maelmoor, the gnome Swatti Tinkerbolt speak with entousiam. He share the plans of his King to retake Gnomeragan in an ambitious operation planed a long time ago. He finish by raising his fist and cheer all Alliance leaders.

Another noticable event along this festivity, is the coming of the first Furlborg ambassador : Knart of Ashepine. His tribe recently saved by a group of idealist Kaldorei have joined the Alliance Force.

The Bal end late in the night, with the show of a trio of dancers and a magnificient firework exploding above the Main door of Theramore.



Whitestar Magazine© Article from - Elloa

Politic : The Furbolg Ambassador

Knart of Ashpine is friendly, and share easily his story. A tale of freedom and courage. The Gnarlpine tribe, as many others tribe of Furbolg, had been tainted by the action of the Burning Legion. They became mad, aggresive and enslaved each others. A courageous male named Uung managed to escape and gain Darnassus where he begged for help. A group of Kaldorei, lead by Mandarath Winterstorm and approved by the Circle of Darnassus decided to freed the untainted Furbolg. The Operation had been a success, and a new tribe of Furbolg had been formed and given lands near Astrannar : the Ashpine tribe. The libarated feel so gratful towards their rescuers, the Knifes Ears as they call them, that they consider themselves not only allied with the Night Elves, but also, with the whole Alliance. Send by his chieftain, Knart, is therefor the first Furbolg Ambassador.

Whitestar Magazine© Article from - Elloa

Elloa's Chronicle : The day before

Elloa’s chronicle: the world seen through the eyes of a Draenei

 Theramore, Wednesday evening. An autumnal breeze blow on the harbor. It’s not cold yet, but I regret to not have bring with me a woole cloak. The Ambassador Bal will be my first reportage and while I’m waiting for my Snapshotter, I’m wondering how I’ll achieve my job. A Kaldorei is waiting on the dock. She had been hired as a waitress. She is carring a suitcase with her different outfits. Alike many others, she will sleep tonight in the city.
Dréfurion, aide to the Elder of Diplomacy and organizer of the event Calisar Ravencrest, is walking arround, beeing sure everything is well organised. He seem slightly worried.
The Blazing Shields soldiers are patrolling already, under the supervision of Eloresh. The man, in silver armor, show to the famous Stormwind guards everything they need to know to assure a perfect security the morrow, including the locale prison.
« The Kaldorei will most likely arriving by the door, while Dwarf and Gnomes will arrive by boats. »
Later, the Shields have dropped their plate armor, they run arround the fort.
« We have been hired to protect Theramore, because we have an excellent training » will confess me later, Kainna the Shields Capitain.
In the Mage Tower, where the Bal will be attended, I surprise a discussion concerning the arrival of foods, drinks and Ale.
The organisation promise a wonderfull festivity. Nothing is let to chance. Everything is checked twice.
Some guest have taken a room in the Inn. Among them, Vezullia Astroloxia, Minister of Magi and member of the Stormwind Council. We discuss together. I’ve never spoke to any sober gnome before. She share with me her satisfaction that such an event is organised.
« I’m expecting to make new connections. »
A fresh and heavy rain start to fall. We feel that the summer touch its end. The Minister and I gain the Inn, where a couple of humans are speaking with the High Priestess Alushia. Vezullia and I continue our discussion. The debat between us is so passionating that I forget my role of reporter. I’m only Elloa, a draenei trying to understand the world where she landed.


Whitestar Magazine© Article from - Elloa

Society : The Wedding

Many have gathered in Stromgarde to invitness
the wedding between lady Amirah and lord Élegost.
We were many who came from both far and near to congratulate
them for their blessing to have eachother and for things to come
in the future.









The reverend starts up the ceremony and welcomes
everyone to the wedding.
Cheerful is the day when the couple say the words we all
have longed for to hear. I do!









In the newly weds faces you can see everything two people share
between eachother and the biggest thing of them all is Love.
Fireworks fills the air when the couple gives eachother
the weddingkiss. The strongest kiss of all which will
bound them to eachother.

The ceremony ends with more fireworks to the peoples cheering
and applaus, and the couple asks the crowd to move to the Eastfields
for a small tournament to celebrate the wedding. The contestants compete for honor and glory.
Every lady got to choose one champion to fight for them in the tournament.









I decided that Sir Bennedict Omarosand, Knight of Disciples of Light was a great champion for Whitestar Magazine, very courageous and handsome upon his steed in shining armor. He was a true heartmelter. He fought bravely and with a great spirit but unfortunately he was not victorius.

The sun settled behind the mountains and it was time for Whitestar Magazine to move out.
The night sets in around the couple and not a soul will know
how they will spend their weddingnight, we all can only guess.

Whitestar Magazine© Article from -Alakina Aisling

People : old lad aint' boring !

To be an elder dwarf isn’t synonym of beeing boring, admonitory or senile as proove  Master Stoutstone, the oldest dwarf alive or Master Sootbeard!

The Netherguard mines can testify. When new veins of thorium had been discovered in the area after the late summer’s earthquake, Sootbeard didn’t hesitate to join Dorik Thunderbelly’s expedition. The old lad grabbed his minning pic as every other real dwarf and left his wheelchair to participate to the contest : who could beat the Ironforge Ambassador and collect more precious metal? Maybe old and more easily tired, Sootbeard is still vaillant. His mind is sharp, acute. He will say some old dwarvish proverb, the eyes bright of  intelligence, translating with ease the old words of his own language. His knowledge goes far beyong the border of his own culture : this man knows the world where he is living and happily share his wisdom with a bit of humour.

Recently, Bimfor Stoutstone have celebrated his 435th birthday. A party had been organised in his hometown Thelsamar, in the Dun Morog mountains. Prestigious figures from Stormwind or even Darnassus traveled to honnor the oldest dwarf alive. Then again, we do not meet a hopeless old person complaining on his own wounds, but a man of experience and bright humour. His vitality is amazing for a person of his age. To the demand of his friends and family, he tells a good joke, make his public laugh to tears and ask for more ale. Later he shares his best memories : souvenirs of a miner of exeption, of someone who lived along the reign of two kings, who saw amazing events happening arround him.

The Ironforge Ambassador explain that elders are very respected in the dwarvish culture. Their experience of life, their knowledge is a present for every younger dwarf. An example to follow.

Master Sootbear, Master Stoutstone and all other elders of Kaz Modan : May your beard grow longer!



Whitestar Magazine© Article from - Elloa

Exploration : The Ashpine tribe

The Writemobile eat litteraly the stone road which cross the forest of Darkshore. Adventure flew in Alakina’s blood, she rise the speed to the maximum. I’m forced to grasp my hat with my two hands to not lose it. Our destination is Astranar, a little Kaldorei village often target of orkish attack. It’s true that the different between the Silverwing Sentinels and the Warsong Clan is not solved yet, and they still fight for the wood.

The night is falling and the forest is getting darker, softly surrounding us with purple light. There is no silence in those woods as they are filled with a luxuriant and peaceful life. The vegetation have a strong, and earthy parfume which make me feel more…healthy. Alakina stop the motorbike over Astranar road and hide it in buishes. We have find the camp we were looking for : the Ashpine tribe village. I walk first, hoping to meet Knart, the Furbolg ambassador.

Three tribesmans are surrounding a camp fire. One, taller and stronger than the others is covered with bones, feathers and other undinstiguable symbols. He is probably the chieftain. The two others seem to my eyes as similar as two water drops. I must confess I’d have never recognised Knart if he didn’t had stepped towards me.

As much friendly as he was in Theramore, Knart introduce us to his chief. His friend, an energic male question agressively Alakina. Her pink sunglasses arrouse his suspicion.

 They lead us towards the fire where dance a heavy smoke. It smell strongly burned spicy wood. The chieftain only speak with gestures, and demand us to breath the smoke. I guess what is about this ceremony. I’m a little bit aquainted with Furbolg uses. We all breathe deeply. Alakina cough. My head is spinning. I recognise the sensation. We are now able to understand the language of the wood.

Sitting by the fire, we discus all along the evening. Uung the Liberated, chieftain of the untainted Gnarlpines, tell us his story, his hopes, his visions…His worries to not have been able to save more than a dozen of females. He look towards his tribesmans with mixed feelings : compassion and exhaustion. It’s easy to see that his wisdom outmatch Knart and his friend’s.

« They only think about to breed females » confess he.

They are both restless, like childrens. Knart wants to try my hat. He clumbsyly grasp it, trying to understand what to do with it. I show him how to wear it and I offer it to him as a present. He is happy, proud and taunt his friend, teasing him. They are bickering each other. And Uung sigh.

Our conversation is suddendly interrupted by noises of wolfs and riders. Before we have the time to react, a band of orcs heavily armored suddendly arise from the deepthness of the forest. I try to speak to them. I’ve only opened my mouth that I feel a pungent pain on the back of my head, and I fall, face on the ground. The orcs are surrounding me. It seem that the Furbolg have managed to escape. I don’t know where is Alakina. I painfully manage to rise on my hoofs. I want to tell them to stop, that I’m not agressive. But I don’t remember the words. It’s a so long time I’ve not spoken to orcs ! I’ve not the time to say anything that a warrior give me a second kick with the back of his axe. I black out.

Later, Uung will tell us that the green faces are often seen in the forest. They want the land, they want the woods. But now that their tribe is free, they are fighting together with the Kaldorei. Even if they can not trust them entirerly due to their ancient mistakes, they are gratful and faithful to their new saviors.


Whitestar Magazine© Article from - Elloa

Memories of a Draenei : the Night of the falling Stars (part I)

Long times ago, on the flourishing world of Draenor, the orcs were celebrating the sacred Night of the Falling Stars. When our people settled on this planet, the tribes invited us to join their ancestral celebration of the astral event. We were sharing an evening together, offering gift, food, challenging each others along games and we exchanged blessing. It became a night symbol of peace between our two races.
As I was learning the orkish language, I had been left in charge of the organization of this event during several years, and I was successfully offering the Draenei blessing of Light. But that time…I had a bad feeling about it.

I had made a nightmare so vivid that I could not think about something else. I though it was a bad presage for the celebration, and I wanted to hear a wise opinion, find some comfort and guidance, and even...a replacement.
At this time, Sanara of the Exodar was an anchoress wandering alone in the wilds of Terrotkar. I made hardly my way to her hermitage. I was filled with hope. Sanara was a name most of us knew, as she was one of the eldest of our kind, and her wisdom was respected more than she though. She received me with simplicity and kindness; around her camp fire where she cooked some fishes she had captured herself. We talk longly. She offered me comfort rather than answers. But more important, she accepted to break her exile to give the Blessing herself. In exchange, I just had to bring her soap and white dye for her hair.

However, the evening of the celebration, my heart was filled with anguish. I was walking endlessly on the Light Terrasse of Shattrah, waiting for people, waiting for Sanara…I wasn’t expecting a crowd, but they really were few people attending. And worst than anything: the Anchoress wasn’t there. It reinforced my bad feeling about a cursed Celebration! Would I be forced to offer the Blessing myself ?
We were about to be late. I gathered the few females which were present, and we started to move towards the point of rendez vous. When we arrived to the little village, my heart stopped to beat a moment. It was empty. I started to be catastrophied. We were late and the orcs were gone already…They were a bit primitive, they would take it as an offence. I couldn’t reason myself that it was not important and that in two or three generations this event would be all forgotten. I was in panic.

When I though that everything was lost and that I had failed miserably, we finaly saw a cortege arriving in the horizon. The orcs were late themselves. And as I was relieved by their presence, my brain started to work again. I suddendly remembered that Sanara told me to meet her in Telaar before the ceremony. How stupid I was, to let my emotion control me to the point of forgetting such an important thing ! Aomir, a young draenei, had a fierce elek as mount, and offered me to get the Anchoress herself. She left and ran trough the plains as fast as a falling star.

Meanwhile, I tried then to organise the feast. The orcs were more numerous than us. Seven males, all larges and strongs, and two females. We gathered arround a large fire. There were fruits, meat, fishes. The orc were eating with appetit. The draeneis were less confident. One female was so shy that she could not dare to approach the orcs. They were wondering why she was scared, and I tired to explain them that she was too impressed by their large musculature. I though some humour, added to a little compliment could only relax the atmosphere. They laughed. The dinner happened like this. There weren’t so much communication between our poeple, other than glances, and satisfied smiles. But everything was fine…for now…

(To be continued..)

Comic: Whitestar - The end of a dream

First Chapter - The end of a Dream