The Founding of Gilneas: Why not Tempest's Reach?

The Founding of Gilneas: Why not Tempest's Reach? is a historical work positing that Gilneas was originally 'founded' in Tempest's Reach, or rather that an isolationistic community resided in tempest's reach for a good period of time. The author, Walker Wells, offers a series journal fragments as evidence for his claim. Most of the book is dedicated to the journal fragments themselves and their publication. The journal fragments themselves were written by Bolton White, thousands of years ago, and they seem to date back to around the time period when House Greymane was first populating Gilneas.

In reality, the town of Tempest's reach and its native inhabitants were members of a small Gilnean tribe much like the Eldir'thiirn, but far enough away from them in many of their customs to avoid the genocide that was committed by the Duathe and House Greymane.

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The Founding of Gileans: Why not Tempest's Reach? A work by Dr. Walker Wells, Magi 3rd Degree of Dalaran Translations and interpretations by Dr. Walker Wells, Magi 3rd Degree of Dalaran Edited by Dr. Walker Wells, Magi 3rd Degree of Dalaran

The following journal fragments were recovered found in a locked boxing, in the Dalaran historian's chamber. Despite days of pouring over ancient texts of Arathor I have been unable to determine the exact date of their writing, but I have traced it back to somewhere between -2,000 and -1,500 in the King's calendar. While I understand this is a large historical gap for any academic work, I must stress the point that we are working with writings that, until recently, were thought totally lost. We should consider ourselves lucky to be able to narrow down to a game of 500 years. Much of the journal was beyond recovery, but I managed to translate some sections.

The translations proved beyond fascinating and seem to directly mention the founding of the town we call "Tempest's Reach," in Gilneas. If these journal entries are to be believed as accurate, the town of Tempest's Reach might actually be older than the cities of the duathe themselves. Something that would come as a bit of a shocker, since the headlands is currently considered the first area that was populated in the region. These findings lead me on a hunt to find out more about Tempest's Reach, its culture, and just how much of an effect the small town had on the formation of Gilneas. If they were the first to settle, why then is the main cities not founded around it? There is much hypothesis, but I have found sources that shed light on all of these questions.

98.2.13 - 11th of Flame's Heart, y.927
(Dr. Walker's Personal Notes: Unknown date. Perhaps from a calendar based off the founding of the Arathor Empire and their captail city of Strom. I speculate the Flame's Heart reefers to Summer or one of the hotter months. The numbers in front of the 11 of Flame's Heart are a complete mystery. I cannot find any reference to something like this. An indication of the time of day, perhaps referenced by star movements, is the only thing that seems reasonable.)

My name is Bolton White and I'm making this journal incase we don't make it. Perhaps someone will find it and take it back to Strom so that our party can be accounted for and given proper honors.

We've been walking a day now, my feet are already killing me already but I don't regret coming. Rumors have been spreading across the land. The leaders of Dalaran have been hiding something from us… People have talked about revolution. Demons. Terrible things lurking in the streets. (There is some evidence to support Bolton's assertions. Rumors were indeed speeding at the given time frame. There are reports in the history books that magical experimentation attracted agents of the Burning Legion to our world. Some of which got through. All were, of course, delta with by Master Magi and NO reports exist of any demon's ever surviving. This still did not stop the speeding of fear and superstition.)

Jeremy Hannan, who we've taken to calling Father Hannan (The title Father would imply he had some religious standing with the group), was the one who told us we needed to leave Strom. He's a wise old man who is known throughout the city. Some call him crazy, but others know better. He practices ancient and mysterious arts. I've seen it. My neighbor was ill, near death, and I took him to Father Hannan. I don't know what he did to him, but he got better the very next day. I'd trust him with my life, as I have. (The story about the man could be many things. It could be that the one called "Father Hannan" was a simple healer, using herbs and such things. This would arouse a lot of suspicion with native Arathions, as it is reminiscent of Trollish magic and voodoo rituals. It is also possible he practiced something of a early druidic art.)

My wife refused to come, said that Strom would be safe from anything going on in Dalaran. I left without teller her, took Timothy, our son, with me. I won't have the creatures Father Hannan speaks of haul him off in the night, not while I still draw breath.

We're moving again. I'll write more later.

01.5.13 - 11th of Flame's Heart, y.927
Its dark so we've made camp for the night. (As the numbers at the start of the date are the only thing that has changed and he mentions time, this leads credence to my assertion that the numbers represent time. Exactly how, and what time, is impossible to tell.) I think I will write about our group now, just so there is a record. There are 56 of us in total. 15 families of varying size (The smallness of the party is very surprising since Strom was still the capital city at this time and had a much larger population. This would indicate serious apprehension about Father Hannan shared by the majority of the public). One man here has five kids! I can't image. His name is Charles Book. He was a wealthy man back in Strom. His wife is Marabeth, she is with him. She reminds me of my wife…

Father Hannan gathered all he could who would follow him (This seems to suggest that Hannan was peaching for some time before they left Strom.), but it wasn't very much. Fear makes people do odd things, including ignoring the wise words of a wise man who knows far more than they ever will. (As we can see here, Bolton White's dedication to the words of Father Hannan boarder on fanaticism. Enough to even kidnap his child away from the mother.) We need to get out of Strom before these Demons attack! Father Hannan says this will be known as the Tempest. When the creatures attack our world like a great tempest from the ocean.

We're staying near the coast-line. Father Hannan says there is a section of the land that juts out from the rest of Arathor and goes South (Modern-day Tempest's Reach still lays along the coastline. It is quite possible the location has not moved.). It's about a weeks walk away. Thats where we will build our new village. Father Hannan says the town will be named Tempest's Reach, because that is where the reach of the Demons will stop. We will-

(The rest of this entry was illegible. The pages appeared to have been eaten by some kind of insect. If I could lecture this obviously inconsiderate bug upon the value of history I most certainly would make a note to do so.)

48.6.14 - 13th of Flame's Heart, y.927
It's been two days since we left now. I can no longer see any indications of Strom. The roads aren't well worn. We've passed the farmlands and are moving into the forest called Silverpine.

One of the men, Clifford Hunt, broke his leg on a rock. Father Hannan preformed what I can only describe has magic and healed the man's leg right before us. I've never seen anything like it. The Priests use the "Light" to heal, but thats not what Father Hannan used. He said it was much older and more powerful but refused to speak on it further. (This supports my earlier assertions that Druidic magic is the most likely culprit here. Since the Trolls of Old Arathor, before humans, used nature-based magics, it is quite probable that they may confuse the two. This would explain the apprehension most of Strom showed towards Jeremy Hannan.)

We're running out of food… We'll need to hunt in the forest. I'm no good with a bow but we have a few hunters with us. Brock Colston, Dane Chadwick, and Digby Rich all know how to hunt. They'll set off when we make camp. I'll write more when we stop.

70.5.32 - 13th of Flame's Heart, y.927
The man called Digby managed to get a boar! The thing has two be ten hay in weight ("hay" could refer to a barrel of hay. However, this does not give us any accurate information, as it is unknown what the standard size of a hay barrel may have been at the time)! We've built a fire to keep other animals away and Father Hannan has said we'll sleep here for the night. He said some kind of blessing over the dead animal, I didn't understand the words. He said it would purify the meat of any impurities (A variety of magics can purify living flesh, but dead? It seems strange that a human would know such a spell. This could be an advanced Druidic spell, or a ritual of some sort that serves no real purpose, or perhaps a different type of magic, one more focused on death). His wisdom truly seems limitless. A few of the others have started asking him to teach them this magic he uses. He has refused, but maybe he will change his mind in time?

I'm going to eat now, Brock knows how to play the flute and he's by the fire right now. Don't want to miss the entertainment.

00.1.30 - 13th of Flame's Heart, y.927
My hands are shaking as I write this. Something attacked us in the middle of the night, I don't know what. They took Timothy, my son, and a few others before we knew what was happening. Huge black shadows. I can't describe them for I have never seen anything like them. No one was hurt, I don't know why. (This entry is very confusing. If I didn't know better I'd chalk it up to insane babble. My first reaction was that the culprits were Worgen, but that makes no sense. Worgen do not have a tendency to kidnap, and they certain don't leave entire camps unharmed. If it had been a Worgen attack, someone would have been hurt, yet he writes that none were. What could have attacked them?)

Father Hannan says not to worry, that they were "welcomed into the wild," I do not know what he is talking about… (This raises even more questions. I'd say Father Hannan's reaction indicates that he expected this to happen. Why? His statement "welcomed into the wild" is equally cryptic. It, again, seems to suggest Worgen assailants but, for the reasons I laid out before, that would be highly improbable). He won't explain any more! It's making me so frustrated. I have to trust that Father Hannan knows best. He hasn't lead us wrong so far. He says we leave in the morning. I hope Timothy is back by then…

34.2.65 - 15th of Flame's Heart, y.927
It's been two days since Timothy and the others were taken. Nothing. We've kept moving, as Father Hannan says we must, but I'm growing worried. I've begged Father Hannan to tell me where my boy is, but he only assures me that no harm will come to the boy or the others. How could that be? What isn't he telling me? The others have all but forgotten about what happened… (It is obvious at this point that Father Hannan is hiding something. What I cannot say.)

Two days, just two more days before we get to our new home.

15.6.32 - 17th of Flame's Heart, y.927
Father Hannan says we've reached the spot for our village… For our home. It's been four days since Timothy disappeared. I'm about to give up hope. I don't dare go looking in the forest for him. I wouldn't be able to find my way, its so dark there even in the day, and besides, even if I found him what could I do against those things?

38.4.90 - 18th of Flame's Heart, y.927
I can't explain it! Timothy returned along with the other two missing people! He seems fine, a little distant, but won't talk about what happened, Father Hannan says I shouldn't ask. (This raises even more questions about the attackers. This ism ore evidence to support my initial conclusions that Worgen were NOT responsiblensible. They wouldn't have let the child return like this.)

(A large chuck of the journal is missing. Some pages appear to have been ripped out, others just disintegrated with the passage of time. The next translatable section is the last entry and is year and some months later.)

12.63.78 - 5th of Frost, y.928
I was right the entire time! They've been working with something in the forest. Hannan made some kind of deal with it, our lives for power. My son! My very own son and I didn't do anything!? How could I have been so stupid.

The temple is under Hannan's house. I don't know how many of the villagers are in on it, or how many will defend him, but I'm going out there to get my son back. He's in that temple and I'll take him, even if I have to kill Hannan and every one of these monsters to get him. If I don't get out alive, let this be an account of all the terrible deeds Tempest's Reach has been built upon. I hope it burns and falls off this damned cliff into the ocean! (As we can see, the writing is in a state of server confusion. Obviously something very traumatic has happened. We cannot make any assumptions about what that is. He claims here that Hannan was responsible, but I have gone to Tempests Reach myself and there is nothing under any of the houses. It's hard to say what could have happened.)

Author's notes
With the full translation of the journal my interest in the origins of Tempest's reach were peaked. Obviously, as my last notes on the journal indicate, we cannot make any assumptions about the validity of the journal's later entries, but I believe the documentation about the trip to Tempest's Reach is accurate.

After this, I started to search for any information on Tempest's Reach that I could find indicating it's past. How long had it been there? What were it's people like? After months of pouring over old tomes I found nothing. I decided drastic measures must be taken and I hired a band of mercenaries to smuggle me into the city of Gilneas. Once there I went to their library.

I spent a week there, searching through books and what I found was astonishing. Another historian apparently found a joinery detailing a town called Strom's Break from the perspective of a traveling mercenary from Strom. After pouring over the records I have established that Strom's Break and Tempest's Reach are actually the same town. The reason for the name change is unknown, but the mercenaries journal, while missing many entries, shed new light on their culture and customs.

22nd of Oak, y.1121
Since the last job went over so well I thought I'd treat myself to some rest on the way back to Strom. While Gilneas is a fine place, I longed for something a little more peaceful. Along the coast line they spoke of a place called Strom's Break, ain't never heard of it myself but I went looking for it anyway. I'm writing from there right now and I must say, I'll be returning to this place!

The inn here has the most comfortable beds I've ever slept in and the woman here are very friendly. I could stay here forever. There is this old geezer in town, they call him Father Hannan. Apparently he's been here since dirt was young, or at least as long as anyone can remember. He looks to be about 100. Nice guy though.

I gotta say, their a little out of touch here though. The men are real cold. Proper. They don't talk much beyond the casual "Hi, lovely day isn't it?" Every time I try to engage in a lengthy conversation I feel like I'm wasting their time so I end up just saying bye.

Fashion is a little odd here too. In Strom the woman dress in these elegant gowns, big hats and done-up hair. Gilneas has working-class women, but here? Here they wear these tight fitting woolen robes. And I don't mean tight-fitting as in enjoyable to look at. They look down right suffocating and uncomfortable. Even the men wear the same stuff. Can't rightly tell them apart at a good distance. Odd. Anyway, I need to catch some sleep. I'll write in the morning.

23rd of Oak, y.1121
Woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread with this local root reduced to this thick sweet sauce. I can't describe it's taste and do it justice. It was sweet, yet bitter and clung to my taste-buds like a mouthful of honey. Washed it down with some fresh milk. This place is heaven. I take back what I wrote yesterday about the men being cold. Must have just been the end of the day, must have been tired the lot of them. One of the men invited me for a horse-ride later this afternoon, going hunting for fox. Sounds like fun. Can't say I've ever hunted fox. Apparently Father Hannan will be joining us. I have to admit, the thought of someone that old riding a horse and handling a gun makes me a little hesitant. They seem pretty confident in him, though.

23rd of Oak, y.1121
Just got back from hunting. It's around dinner time now and the man, who invited me hunter, whose name I learned is Wooster Field, his wife Elizabeth is making fox stew. Never had it. Should be good. Wooster invited me to stay with his family, he has a daughter and son, both 10. Can't remember their names at the moment, I think it was Eldon and Jane. I took him up on the offer but made clear I'll probably be here a week. Didn't want to impose. He said it wasn't any problem. These people are very friendly, sort of an open-door policy. No one has locks and keeps their doors wide-open all day. Kids play out in the field, center of the little village. It's like they are protected by nature itself. The men get up at sun-up and get to work, women tend to do house-tasks, reminds me a lot of Strom in that way. They have two farms, owners are Gable Clark and Sampson Book, sort of the town nobles. Important people, both were on the hunt earlier. Learned they grow wheat, tomatoes, potatoes, and some odd plan I've never seen before they call Dillroot. Apparently it has medicinal properties and it will only grow around Strom's Break. They also raise pigs, sheep, and cows on the farm as well.

The only draw-back is the wind. Father Hannan explained that was the reason for the odd clothing. Rolls off the sheer cliffs and cuts right down to the bone, bitter cold. The thick wool keeps them comfortable. Elizabeth is calling dinner time. I'll write more tomorrow.

24th of Oak, y.1121
Figured I'd lend a hand since I'm staying here for awhile. Storm hit in the middle of the night and put a hole in the stable's roof. Offered to help fix it at the town meeting. Apparently, and I didn't know this until just this morning, as I hadn't gotten up early for it yesterday, the entire town's male population, including children above the age of eight, get together every morning at sun-up and dish out duties for the day. You're assigned your duty and you spend the day doing it. Pretty effective way to get things done. The whole affair is controlled by Father Hannan. They gave the roof fixing to Wooster and I offered to help him. Father Hannan seemed pretty happy about that.

Breakfast was eggs with bacon and toast. Elizabeth said we would need the healthy breakfast for the manual labor. She is a thoughtful woman. If I were Wooster I'd be worried about another man trying to take her but he doesn't even seem to give it a second thought. I like the man.

24th of Oak, y.1121
My back is killing me. Their building construction is vastly different that what I'm used to. It's complicated beyond belief, even something like patching a roof requires new beams and supports and all sorts of inter-connected fittings. Apparently none of their structures use nails so they've devised this complicated method of cutting and connecting wood. This means they don't have to export iron from Strom, which, according to Father Hannan, "costs about three children."

I have to admit though, the hole in the roof didn't look like wind damage. There were what I thought was claw-marks in the wood and where it had been gouged out by claws it was burned and turned black like ash. Wooster said it was a lighting strike. Some crazy lighting. Dinner is being called, more later.

27th of Oak, y.1121
I've been here long enough, and thought I hate to leave, I must. I've brought it up with Wooster that I'll be leaving in the morning. His wife is going to pack me lunch and dinner for my travels and Father Hannan offered to give me a horse. A horse! For free! I could have kissed him for that. Father Hannan also said that before I went we're supposed to go out to this place he calls the "Temple of Life" so that I can be rewarded for all my help towards the village. He said everyone would be there. I can't wait to get to Strom and tell people about this place. I'm surprised this isn't the capital city. Something just crashed downstairs, going to go check.

(The journal ends here despite there being many pages left blank.)

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((BIG WIP!))