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Femarius Starspeaker
Guild G. Diplomatic Core
Gender Female
Race Gnome
Class Unknown
Faction Alliance



Femarius Starspeaker is the Gnome Ambassador to Quel'Thalas. She was an established civil servant in Gnomeregan up to The Third War, when she went missing on a diplomatic trip to Quel'Thalas looking for survivors of the Scourge's invasion. Her current whereabouts is unknown by the majority of the Alliance. With her on the diplomatic trip was Antonidias, a human who was escorting her there. However, they may have been in different squadrons, and he knows nothing of her current whereabouts.

She had only one child, who was Tiberio Dawnspeaker. Recently (The Third Week of Winterveil) Tiberio has discovered what happened to Femarius Starspeaker by using the Sight - A powerful gift passed down through the generations of his family.

The story of what happened to Femarius Starspeaker can be viewed here[1]. She was attacked by the human forces under the orders of the senior officers of the Alliance. Preliminary evidence suggests that this was because the humans did not want to waste time negotiating peace with the High Elves, and Femarius Starspeaker aimed at undoing the xenophobia expressed by General Garithos during the Third War. She was perceived as a threat to human foreign policy, and hence assassinated at The Golden Strand in Eversong Forest, Quel'Thalas.



The Diary of Femarius Starspeaker - The Day Gnomeregan Fell

Chapter 1

Four Days to Trogg Breakthrough

Femarius Starspeaker was the Gnomish Ambassador to Quel'Thalas during the past fourty-six years. The following extract was taken from her diary in the lead up to the Trogg assault on Gnomeregan during the Third War.


Four days to the Trogg Breakthrough:

Today has been a day of confusion, I must admit. I awoke in the early hours of the morning sweating copious, possibly dangerous, quantities of perspiration. It was the first dream - or nightmare, as some may call it - that I have encountered for a period of fifteen terms. In this dream I saw Dun Morogh from above. Yes. I remember now. I was a dove. A symbol of hope, flying high above Dun Morogh, the light shining down on the white snowy peaks of the region. It was beautiful. Quite ironic, I realise now, as what followed was a scene that disturbs me even now. From the dig site at Gol'Bolar, the most grotesque and horrid creatures emerged. They were shaped like... How can I best describe them? They are of a humanoid form; About the size of a dwarf, or so they seemed from the air. Possibly slightly larger. They proceeded to swarm from the quarry at a run, slaying the archaeologists and miners present. There were many screams. And then... Oh, why can one not remember what one dreams?

Upon rising from my bed, I headed straight to the Librarium - The grand hall that contains all the scriptures, librams, tomes, and so on, that the gnome-race has ever needed. The motto above, forged in a gleaming metal - possibly a thorium alloy of some sort - looms at me. "Through Conscience We Conquer" it reads. The librarians were very helpful in aiding me in my quest to search for any references to the creatures I saw in my dream, however despite my greatest efforts, I could find no mention. A dream. I tell myself it was just a dream.

The rest of the day, passed in relative normality. The Council meeting seemed to go well, though Mekgineer Sicco Thermaplugg did not attend. It is not an unusual occurence, as he is charged with maintaining the marvels of engineering which Gnomeregan posesses. He is evidently very busy at the moment. This evening I saw him walking down through the Hall of Gears with a Dwarf in a hood and long, dark robes. I heard him mutter the following to the Dwarf:


"...weakest points are further down this corridor, off to the right. The pressure pipelines .... amount of power, and if they were to be punctured it would be cause catastro..."


There were some words I did not hear. It strikes me as rather odd that the dwarves would be concerned with Gnomeregan, especially due to the current political and military climate. Nevertheless, we must continue to support our enemies in the fight against the Burning Legion.




Chapter 2

Two Days to Trogg Breakthrough

Femarius Starspeaker details the unusual occurences that have been happening in Gnomeregan in the build up to the Trogg invasion and the downfall of the Gnome race. The following is an extract from her diary.

Two days to Trogg Breakthrough:

The instruments are not conducting themselves in the usual way - Even the most advanced techological devices have been affected, all of a sudden, by a peculiar wave of hysteria. Indeed, it has baffled and confused the Gizmotechnicians, Arcanosmiths, and Civil Engineers, all of which are held in such high esteem as a result of their knowledge of technology. The marketplace was unusually quiet, with just such goods as food, drink, and furniture. There was not the commonplace engineering stalls. "Arcane Wares", the shop at which I purchase all my everyday arcane goods, was closed from two hours past midday. Madame Wurtgoggles never closes only, but for some reason she had done so today. The shutters were down in at the front of the stall. When I enquired as to the whereabouts of Madame Wurtgoggles I had been told that she had been pulled aside by a group of shady gnomes during her lunch break. This news does not bode well. It is possible that the Twilight's Hammer are extending their influence into Khaz Modan. Upon further investigation, I found Madame Wurtgoggles was not the only one. The librarian who I talked to only two days ago had also been pulled aside. There were others.

I decided to ask Thermaplugg about the reason of the disruption inside Gnomeregan. He was, after all, an artisan engineer, and if anyone were to know why the technology that we have relied on so much is suddenly failing, it would be him. He said he had the situation perfectly under control:

"There is absolutely nothing to worry about, Ambassador Starspeaker" he told me, nodding his head reassuringly as he did so. "I have not detected anything unusual myself, though if I do you can be sure that I take appropriate action." It is odd, how when you ask someone a question, they do not reply with an answer. I am not at all comforted by his claims. How can he not have noticed anything unusual? Does he live a life of ignorance in that grimy workshop of his? (I say grimy - His workshop is made of gleaming metal that inflicts a terrible bright light upon the onlooker. Any metal he requests, he will get. Any enchanter he wants, he shall be provided with. No wonder he is such a brilliant engineer. It is hardly fair to say his workshop is grimy.)

The Council meeting did not go well today. I arrived slightly late, due to my investigations into the technological failures, and I was greeted by cold, harsh glares. Everyone was extremely tense - Councillor Gorba Pocketsprock, one of the most jovial members of the Advisory Council, was not present. Her attendance record was impeccable, and this was the first year, in all one hundred and eight-six years of her life, when she did not attend. Gelbin, or High Tinker Mekkatorque as I should call him, was particularly silent, and the meeting was brought to an abrupt halt when the tapping noises began. They were extremely faint at first, like someone tapping his wand against a piece of wood the other side of the room... Except it was less hollow than that. And it was not coming from the same room. It was coming from beneath us. Noone mentionned the noise, but I can tell that everyone heard it. Yeltsi, the small black haired gnome with smooth pale skin, who held the position of Tinker of Defense, suggested that we withdrew our forces from the conflict with the Burning Legion immediately. Noone spoke in response to this, but there were nods all round Tinkers Court, though several were reluctant to admit the inevitable truth. Gnomeregan was under seige.




Chapter 3

One Day to Trogg Breakthrough

The day before the Troggs break into the Gnome Capital of Gnomeregan, Femarius Starspeaker gives her account of the day's events:

One day to Trogg Breakthrough

I woke in the early hours of the morning, at six hours past midnight. My ears felt sore, and I touched them gently, making sure they were still intact. It does not take me long to realise the cause of my anguish - The tapping noises were louder than the previous day. The echoes ran throughout the city; The only way I can describe it is like a gorilla banging a stone on a rock, the seed inside - Gnomeregan - rattling in its case. I walked slowly into the autofeed bay (or what the humans would call dining room,) and saw that Tiberio, my dear son, was already awake. I sat down on the metal chair at the table where he was sat. He is such a lonely soul. His jet black hair mimics the times in which we live, like a display of defiance. He stares directly at the table, ignoring my presence. I look at him sympathetically, trying not to be patronising. I know it is so easy to patronise children, but we have a mutual understanding. He knows that I do not mean to patronise him, and I understand he does not mean to offend me. So I just sit there, silently. Suddenly, he looks up at me, his eyes lacking emotion. His piercing, almost cold, stare frightens me even now I think of it. Had he known this would happen? I look away from him, my eyes darting for another focal point to rest on. I break the silence - "Why are you up so early?" I asked inquisitively. Of course, we both know why we are up. He tells me he had to visit the Astronarium and The Observatory to try and make sense of the situation. I smile. Was it a smile of understanding, or of rejection? I cannot think now, as my mind is full of thoughts, as if the Legion has opened the floodgates and drowned my mind in a sea of problems. I insert the punch card into the front door's control panel, and the air fills with stale air as the pressure drops in the room. I poke my head outside the door to identify the look outside. It seems quite normal for this time of day. There is noone about, and just the lighting from the wall scones light the corridors. The High Tinkers' bed-chambers are just seven doors down to my left, and I notice that the light outside his room is red - vacant. I look to the other doors further down the corridor, and realise that I am not the only one awake at this time of the morning. I turned around again, facing our appartment again. Tiberio looks at me blankly again. Is it ignorance I sense, or complacency?

From there I headed straight to Tinkers' Court - That is where I presume most of the Tinkers and Councillors are at the moment. Yeltsi - Tinker of Defense - tells us that the Gnomish Artillery Squadron IV are on their way back through Dun Algaz, along with well as Gnomish Combat Squadron III. Further Squadrons are returning from the front line at full pace, along with specialist troops being flown by gyrocopter to Gnomeregan. After a heated debate, we decide to withdraw our entire army, which is already limitted in size, from the battle against the Burning Legion and the Scourge in the North. The Mekgineer, Sicco Thermaplugg, insisted that we leave our forces in battle so as to not cause alarm, but nevertheless we agree on a course of action. Gorba Pocketsprock did not attend yet again. Noone has seen her for two days now, and I am sincerely worried.

I left Tinkers' Court at five hours past midday. The light is already fading, but the articial lighting still shines brightly inside Gnomeregan. I lean against the balcony overlooking the Hall of Gears, and breath in the stagnated air. The grinding gears and cogs still rotate, despite the recent technological failings. Again, is it a sign of our naivety in these worrying times, or a sign of perseverance? A tall gnome who I had not met before approached me. He is plump and rounded, and wears half-moon spectacles - The same spectacles as Madame Wurtgoggles used to wear before she disappeared: purple painted metal with very think lenses, with a leather band to fasten it to the head. He asks me whether I know what the noise is. I lie. I say "No", the visions of those manifestations I dreamt of three days ago scaring me into doing so.

The Gnomish Artillery Squadron IV were the first to arrive. I remember them, led by Commander Toadgrowth - the short, stalwart gnome who organises the defense of Khaz Modan in case of invasion - descending down the Great Elevator of Gnomeregan down to the main autoroute running through the city. Their tabards swung with every footstep, marching uniformly, towing all manner of military equipment behind them. Toadgrowth stopped as he passed me, and bowed curtiously, kissing my hand. I smiled sweetly in response. It was the only acceptable thing to do. Yeltsi, Tinker of Defense, estimated that it would be thirty-three days before the entire Gnomish Army is at Gnomeregan. Do we have that long? Only time will tell.




Chapter 4

The Day of the Trogg Breakthrough

This was the first day that violence broke out in Gnomeregan. Femarius Starspeaker, Gnomish Ambassador to Quel'Thalas, gives her account of the day's developments. Note that the fighting agains the Troggs has lasted several years already, and still gnome resistance fighters and evacuees escape from the ruins of Gnomeregan. This is not the day Gnomeregan fell, and therefore is not the final installment of Femarius Starspeaker's Diary.

Day of the Trogg Breakthrough

I have not slept all night. Tiberio has also not slept - He still sits on the stool in the Kitchen tinkering with his artefacts and reading his librams, arcanums, and tomes. The tapping is now as loud as the grinding of engineering in the Hall of Gears when they have not been oiled for a long time. Ambassador Bluebottle, one of my colleagues in the Foreign Tinkership who is the newly appointed Ambassador to Lordaeron, visited me in the night. She lives just opposite the corridor, in a Chamber half the size of my own. I was glad she came round, and made her comfortable, making her some hot chocalatyl and providing her with a lot of support. She had a lot of sympathy from the other Councillors' - The area she represented (that is Lordaeron) was falling into anarchy, and she had recently lost her only child, who had been living with her in The Tirisfal Glades with her. I grasped her hands, warmth spreading between us, and told her that everything was going to be all right. With hindsight, of course I realise the dull reality. Everything is not all right. Everything is anything but right.

By mid-afternoon, anxiety filled the air like electricity before a storm. Regular patrols of the Gnomish Army marched up and down the main autoroutes that connected the various districts of Gnomeregan. The Artillery Squadrons have set up stations at regular intervals along the pedestrian walkways, and have engineering equipment to reinforce and deal with any potential breakthroughs. Commander Toadgrowth sat atop the spire in the Hall of Gears, overseeing the operations flooding the city. The Great Elevator was guarded intensly, and when I visited it at four hours past midday the Infantry Divisions were preparing last minute tactics should Gnomeregan be invaded from the exterior - According to Toadgrowth it was a serious possibility, and Thermaplugg insisted that the majority of the troops were posted at the entrance. This seemed a sensible proposition to all the Councillors' present, except for Ambassador Bluebottle. Being such a novice in politics, her opinion had been overruled immediately. Now I wrote this, I regret it.

At the sixth minute past the sixth hour, my ears filled with a cacophany of sounds... I cannot distinguish the different sounds now I think of it... I think the loud scream coming from Seventh Avenue, near the entrance to Gnomeregan. Then, if I remember quickly came the blast. An explosion, if I may say so. I remember my vision shaking... Or was it the things I was looking at shaking? A flash of light in the corner of my eye, followed by the emergency sirens. The Alarm-bot-3000s zoomed past me, hovering past at a running past, their red lights creating an eerie glowing aura. Bluebottle had been right in doubting the decision to position the majority of troops at the Great Lift and beyond. A scene of confusion and chaos ensued, with the nearest Artillery Squadron pursuing the Alarm-bots at a run. Gun-shots were fired into the dust that was rapidly filling the area. We, the Tinkers and Councillors, had been told to go immediately to Tinkers Court in the case of such an emergency. Luckily, the lifts were still in action, and I rapidly found my way back through the winding corridors to the Court. Commander Toadgrowth's yells filled my ears, and I heard further shouts coming from Tinker of Defense Yeltsi. I joined up with Ambassador Bluebottle to make my way there, since we had been told to travel around in twos at all times. She was pale, the blood completely drained from her face. She was just a shadow of her former self. Marching through a shortcut we had taken through the Workshop A-3, she said she wanted to make sure her cousin, who worked at that workshop, was safe. She told me she would catch up. She never did. I reached the end of the Workshop A-3, walking swiftly - alone, contrary to the advice given. I should have been with Bluebottle. That was when the second explosion struck. From the entrance to Workshop A-3, where the corridor to A-4 is located, a flash of light lit the room, casting an abominable shadow over the entire Workshop. I turned round, and stared in awe. Shards of metal flew past my head, and I headed for the nearest support column to take shelter. The dust began to settle, and I saw the body of a gnome. Not just any gnome. Ambassador Bluebottle. I rushed over instinctively, but Yeltsi and a group of infantry carrying rifles in an arrow formation came running in, and pointed their guns at the hole, or crater, where the blast came from. Yeltsi urged me to leave, and I was assigned two of the Elite Infantry Squadron to escort me to Tinkers Court. I turned, and looked at Bluebottle, her expression one of sorrow, and a pool of blood forming on the floor. The rich, red, liquid looked almost beautiful as it reflected the lights of the Emergency Lighting Signals. And that was the last I ever saw of Bluebottle.

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The author is in no way affiliated with Blizzard Entertainment.
This story is Copyright of Tiberio © All Rights Reserved.

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