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Brann's Journal is the journal of Brann Bronzebeard. It is the first known volume of his writings about his world exploration. It covers his journey south from Khaz Modan through Elwynn Forest, Westfall, and Stranglethorn Vale, after the Third War.

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Fifth Day, Selune - Spring

Once again, comrades, I appreciate the great honor that you have given me. I will uphold the pledge that I took to represent the Explorers Guild and to survey the grandiose kingdoms of the world to the utmost of my abilities.

In my travels, I have already seen many wondrous sites and encountered a fair number of strange creatures. And, to my palate's delight, I have been privileged enough to sample a wide variety of exotic ales brewed by our human neighbors to the south!

Indeed, the human lands are captivating. I ventured into the vast forest called Elwynn, and I must confess that in all my days within the stuffy bowels of Ironforge, I have never seen a land more verdant and peaceful. Wolves and Gnolls roam the lush woods, and I caught sight of a few pesky kobolds skulking near the rocky cliffs they so love. And to think that we thought the vermin were a problem only in our kingdom! Still, despite the surrounding serenity, I sensed a certain danger lurking in the shadows... As if some thief or cutpurse would leap out at any moment and attack.

Near the center of the forest, I came across a rustic tavern known as the Goldshire Inn, where for a few silver, I indulged in spiced venison and a frothy flagon of rich ale. Ah, comrades, to describe that sweet brew would require a whole separate entry! The hardy humans of Elwynn were gracious hosts. I think it is safe to assume that our two races will share good relations for many years to come.

Well, I've taken enough time already. The road beckons, comrades! I'm off again!

Tenth Day, Selune - Spring

Greetings, comrades! Be assured that my mission to survey the lands of Azeroth continues unabated. I have left the tranquil forests of Elwynn behind me and write to you now from the lonely land called Westfall. Like you, I was under the impression that this fallow realm had once been the verdant breadbasket of the human lands. Imagine my surprise at finding only abandoned farms and countless acres of cropland left for the crows!

As I inspected a few of the scattered, lonely farms, I found only a few discarded mementos of the humans who had once toiled ceaselessly over this land. I left the melancholy hovels behind and set off across the rolling fields of dust.

After a while, I came across what looked to be an abandoned mining town named Moonbrook. Once again, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up - as if I was being watched. With practiced ease, I unslung my trusted axe and braced myself for battle. Sure enough, three spry figures leaped down from the shadows. I quickly realized that they were nothing more than common Thieves. All wore crimson scarves to conceal their faces - leading me to suspect that the scarves served as badges of their shadowy brotherhood.

Although my foes were skillful, I dispatched them with relative ease. It was only then that I heard the strange whirring sound behind me. I spun around to see a clunky creature, which looked to be some kind of giant scarecrow. It had blazing orange eyes and large, razor-sharp metal claws. The creature, which I now call the Harvest Golem, lunged at me again and again with an almost mechanical awkwardness.

I landed a mighty blow to the Golem's chest - which, much to my surprise, exposed whirling gears and servos right where its heart should have been! I realized then that it would take more than just my axe to defeat the monstrosity! Ducking another of the Golem's slashing blows, I grabbed the trusty musket rifle I keep slung upon my back. As the whirring menace rushed in for its final attack, I shoved my rifle into its open chest-wound and pulled the trigger. With a jarring blast of thunder, the mechanical beast dropped and fell silent.

As I left the strange town of Moonbrook behind me, I began to wonder if it was the Thieves and Harvest Golem who had scared all the farmers away... With any luck, I'll be able to return here and solve this mystery once and for all. For now, the road beckons! My journey is far from over...

Fifteenth day, Selune - Spring

Greetings, once again, comrades! My travels have led me south, past the amber fields of Westfall and into the lush jungle realm of Stranglethorn Vale. Though my previous encounters were hazardous to say the least, they were nothing compared to what I experienced this day!

The caws of tropical birds and the low rumblings of predatory cats seemed to come from every direction as I moved deeper into the steamy jungle. To my relief, I found a stream of fresh water and knelt to refill my water skin. Yet, as I splashed the cool waters upon my sweaty brow, I noticed a strange shadow moving behind the foliage nearby.

From the corner of my eye, I could see that the monster was some sort of predatory reptile - and that it was easily twice my size! But that didn't concern me as much as its terrible, glowing eyes that beamed brilliantly like twin stars on a moonless night. I froze in my tracks - realizing that the scaly beast was a basilisk! These multi-legged predators, whose gaping jaws can crush plate armor, have a deadly gaze that turns anyone caught by it to stone!

Keeping my eyes tightly closed, I slowly drew forth my double-barreled flintlock pistol. Having no time to consider my options, I pulled the trigger and gave the monster a taste of my Dwarven hand cannon! Recoiling from the blast, I quickly got to my feet and unslung my trusty battle-axe. Yet, as the smoke from my pistol cleared, I saw that the beast had fled, leaving me to ponder if my galvanized bullets had pierced its tough, crystal-hewn hide. I can assure you that only my experience in fighting such magical beasts saved me!

Undaunted by my harrowing encounter, I traveled even deeper into the misty jungles of Stranglethorn. After a time, I stumbled upon what looked to be an ornately carved statue of a hooded serpent. This was my first discovery that a civilization had existed within this vine-entangled wood! But were the beings that sculpted the strange totem still lurking within these lands?

My questions were answered soon enough, as I gazed down upon what looked to be an ancient, ruined city! With battle-axe in hand, I descended cautiously into the vine-covered ruins. I'd barely taken my seventh step into them as I heard the low, guttural voices of trolls!

The dark, broken language reminded me of the mossy forest trolls that I'd battled during the Second War. But, my reverie was cut short as the huge, spear-wielding creatures emerged from the shadowy ruins all around me. The jungle trolls were nearly eight feet tall and had the distinctive tusks and leathery hides of their forest cousins. But, their skin had the blue hue of deep mountain pools. They were also adorned with intricate tribal tattoos that ran the length of their lithe bodies.

Imagine my luck at crossing paths with a band of savage headhunters! Against such a group, I could do nothing but turn and hightail it back the way I'd come. With my stout legs pumping like steam pistons, I bolted for the safety of the underbrush as spears and crude axes soared past my head. After what seemed like an eternity of running, I finally lost the cursed trolls amidst the jungle's clamor.

As I stopped to catch my breath, I looked back towards the dark, savage jungle. I resolved to head east... and stay as far as I could from the trolls' ancient ruins.


Noted Dwarven historian and veteran of the Second War Brann Bronzebeard has gone missing! Having undertaken the noble charge of his Explorers Guild to survey the uncharted lands of Azeroth, the celebrated adventurer made his way through the regions of Elwynn Forest and Westfall before filing his last report from the misty jungles of Stranglethorn Vale. According to his most recent correspondence, Brann had just uncovered the ruins of an ancient city hidden deep within Stranglethorn when he was beset upon by a band of savage Jungle Troll headhunters. Presumably, Brann evaded capture, but the only real clue pertaining to his whereabouts comes in the form of a vague final sentence: "I resolved to head east…"

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