World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume 3

by Blizzard Entertainment

  In the days to come, Jaina worked tirelessly to rally as many refugees as she could. Not everyone she met agreed to go with her, but many did. When she finally set sail for Kalimdor, her force included members from nearly every Alliance race. Some were survivors from Lordaeron and Quel’Thalas. Some were dwarves and gnomes from the Alliance military. And some were humans from Stromgarde, Kul Tiras, and other nations in the region.

  Though they came from different places, they followed Jaina Proudmoore for the same reason. She represented something that had almost entirely vanished from the Eastern Kingdoms.

  She represented hope.

  En route to Dalaran, Kel’Thuzad confided in Arthas Menethil and revealed some of the Lich King’s plan to rebel against the Legion. He told the death knight that the demons were not to be trusted. They viewed the Scourge as disposable weapons, something to cast away once Azeroth was in the Legion’s hands. Kel’Thuzad did not tell Arthas when this rebellion against the demons might occur or how it would unfold, but he warned him to be ready for it.

  And Arthas would be. Even before Kel’Thuzad’s revelation, he had distrusted the dreadlords. The demons were always following him, always watching him. He found their presence insufferable, and he looked forward to striking them down as he had done to Mal’Ganis. But the dreadlords would have to wait. For the time being, Arthas would do his part to recover the Book of Medivh from Dalaran and help bring Archimonde into the world.

  In Dalaran, Arthas and the Scourge met resistance every bit as formidable as that of Lordaeron or Quel’Thalas. Perhaps even more so. The city’s magi battered the undead with barrage after barrage of arcane energy, wreaking havoc on the invaders. But this frontal assault was nothing more than a diversion. While the defenders focused their attention on the main undead army, Arthas led Kel’Thuzad and a small force of Scourge into the city itself. The dreadlord Tichondrius accompanied the infiltrators, eager to keep watch over Arthas and ensure that he did what had been commanded of him.

  Using Kel’Thuzad’s knowledge, Arthas overcame Dalaran’s inner defenses. He cut a path toward the vault containing the Book of Medivh, only to find Antonidas waiting for him.

  Like so many other brave souls before him, Antonidas fought with all his heart to hold Arthas back. And like so many other brave souls before him, he failed. Frostmourne claimed another soul. This time, it was one of the world’s wisest and most gifted magi.

  Arthas had expected to find Jaina Proudmoore at Antonidas’s side, and he was surprised to discover that she was not there. In fact, it didn’t seem she was in Dalaran at all. That thought sent a strange emotion flitting through Arthas, some lingering fragment of his past life. He was relieved Jaina was gone. The feeling passed just as soon as it had come.

  Kel’Thuzad shattered the enchanted vault holding the Book of Medivh, and he retrieved the artifact. Many other relics lay alongside the tome, one of which was the Skull of Gul’dan. Tichondrius was drawn to the item and its aura of fel energy, and he pilfered it from the vault before withdrawing from the city.

  Arthas ordered the Scourge to pull back from Dalaran. He had what he needed. Archimonde and his demons were waiting.

  As Kel’Thuzad prepared to open the way for the Legion, he marveled at Medivh’s spellbook. The lich had never seen the tome before. It was one of the most closely guarded artifacts in Dalaran, and even he hadn’t had permission to touch it. Now Kel’Thuzad understood why. The book contained an extraordinary amount of power and knowledge. Kel’Thuzad drew on all of it, weaving a spell greater than anything he had been capable of in life.

  The influx of power created a rift that linked Azeroth and the Twisting Nether, and demons poured from the fiery maw. The first to arrive were the bestial felhounds and mindless constructs called infernals. They were followed by even greater demons, such as Mannoroth and the battle-hardened doomlord named Kazzak. Then came the towering form of Archimonde.

  After more than ten thousand years, the demon lord stood on Azeroth again.

  Archimonde immediately turned his ire on Dalaran. If left alone, the magi would remain a constant thorn in the Legion’s side. Archimonde wouldn’t allow that to happen. He gathered the latent energies permeating Dalaran and wove a spell to bring the city toppling down. One after another, its glittering spires cracked and crumbled into rubble.

  The demon lord then transferred control of the Scourge to the dreadlords. Archimonde saw no further need for the Lich King. The entity had served his purpose, creating a loyal army of undead for the Legion. Archimonde distrusted the Lich King even more than Kil’jaeden did.

  Archimonde ordered his forces to gather in the heart of Lordaeron and crush the last vestiges of the Alliance. This would ensure that no enemies would follow the Legion when the demons launched their invasion of Kalimdor. Not all of Archimonde’s followers took part in the pacification of Lordaeron, however. The demon lord sent Mannoroth and Tichondrius ahead to Kalimdor so that they could clear the way for the Legion’s arrival.

  Medivh sensed the Burning Legion on Azeroth, and he knew the demons would soon begin their assault on Kalimdor. Fortunately, the remnants of the Alliance and the Horde had nearly arrived at the continent. Though Thrall and his people had left first, Jaina Proudmoore and her followers had closed the distance. The Alliance had enjoyed calm seas and full sails; they did not have to endure the angry storm that had battered the Horde’s fleet and blown most of it off course.

  Though Medivh had succeeded in bringing the Horde and the Alliance to Kalimdor, he knew an even greater challenge awaited. The factions needed to join forces, but he could not simply ask them to do so. Too much enmity lingered between them. He would have to subtly draw them into a face-to-face meeting. Only then could he reveal himself and convince them to put aside their differences for the good of Azeroth.

  Medivh chose to lure Thrall and Jaina to a specific place in Kalimdor: Stonetalon Peak. The mountain, located south of the World Tree Nordrassil, was considered sacred by local cultures. Magic suffused the peak, lending the site a certain air of significance and gravitas.

  The only question was whether Thrall and Jaina Proudmoore would survive the journey to the peak. They reached Kalimdor at different times and in different places, but they both faced hardships as they marched inland from the eastern coast.

  The terrain was harsh, a red wasteland that offered little in the way of food or water. The wildlife was just as inhospitable. Savage piglike quilboar and poisonous scorpids prowled the jagged hills. As the days wore on, both Jaina and Thrall wondered whether they had made the right decision in coming to Kalimdor.

  Was there really any hope here? Or had they merely traded one land of conflict for another?

  The march inland was difficult, but it was also rewarding in unexpected ways, particularly for the Horde. Shortly after arriving, Thrall discovered wreckage from the missing ships in his fleet. It seemed that Grommash Hellscream and the other orcs had survived the storm and reached Kalimdor first. They were nowhere to be found, and Thrall assumed they had forged ahead on their own.

  Galvanized by the discovery, Thrall led his followers deeper into Kalimdor, eager to track down the rest of the Horde. But instead of finding Grommash, the young warchief found himself in the middle of a war.

  Conflict raged between two of Kalimdor’s native races: the tauren and the centaur. Though both were rugged and mighty, they were different in almost every other way. The tauren were enormous bovine creatures, but their imposing size belied a gentle spirit. They had deep ties to nature through their deity, whom they called the Earth Mother. The tauren also communed with the world’s elements through their long tradition of shamanism.

  The centaur viewed these mystical pursuits as weak. They were a brutal, warlike people who hunted the tauren for sport. With powerful equine lower bodies and humanoid torsos, the centaur were well suited to warfare on Kalimdor’s open plains.

&nbs
p; For generations, the tauren had weathered intermittent attacks from the centaur. The battles took a heavy toll on both sides. Though the tauren were kindhearted, they did not shy away from combat. They made the centaur pay for every unprovoked attack.

  Yet they had no love for war. Whenever the centaur appeared, the tauren opted to find a new place to call home rather than throw their lives away. They lived in a constant state of upheaval, and they never stayed in one place for long. A year of peace was always followed by another of war. The tauren came to accept this great cycle of conflict as inescapable. It was the only life they knew, but that was about to change.

  Thrall became fast friends with the tauren’s wise leader, High Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof. The warchief admired that many tauren practiced shamanism and respected the land. The tauren had noble hearts and yearned for a better future, but they were constantly drawn into bloody conflict. Thrall would not ignore the injustice he was witnessing. His Horde stood as a beacon of hope for races just like the tauren: the misunderstood, the oppressed, and the forgotten. And his Horde would fight to protect those in need.

  In a land of dust and cracked earth called the Barrens, the Horde stood shoulder to shoulder with the tauren in battle. Their combined might crashed down on the centaur warbands like a hammer and scattered them to the wind.

  The defeat shocked the centaur and sent them limping out of the Barrens in disgrace. They would never again see the tauren as easy prey.

  For the first time in memory, the tauren saw the promise of a new future. The centaur would always be a threat, but not as much as they had once been. The tauren’s nomadic existence was over. At last, they had broken the cycle of conflict.

  In the wake of the battle, Cairne Bloodhoof offered Thrall supplies and even some of his mightiest warriors to help the Horde reach Stonetalon Peak in the north. Most of the other tauren ventured west, into a grassy plain known as Mulgore. There, they would finally settle and build a permanent home.

  While Thrall and his Horde were aiding the tauren, Jaina Proudmoore and her expedition trekked toward Stonetalon Peak. She didn’t know exactly what she would find there, but she expected to discover some new weapon or knowledge that would help her save the world from the Scourge. At least, that was what she assumed the hooded stranger would grant her.

  Finding food and water became a daily struggle. The unforgiving terrain slowly wore down the Alliance refugees. The only thing keeping their hopes alive was Jaina. Though she had her own doubts about the future, she hid them well. No matter how dire the conditions became, she remained determined.

  After days of travel, the Alliance forces reached a lush woodland known as Ashenvale. The region was filled with resources, pristine rivers and lakes, and wild game. Yet it was not without its dangers.

  Just as Jaina reached the foothills of the Stonetalon Mountains, Warsong orcs emerged from the forest undergrowth with sharpened blades and murder in their eyes. Leading them was Grommash Hellscream.

  Grommash and his people had wandered the Barrens for many days before stumbling across Jaina in Ashenvale. Rather than launch an immediate attack, the Warsong chieftain had decided to follow the Alliance at a distance. Finding his old enemy in this exotic land was a mystery, and Grommash spied on them for a time before finally indulging the urge to spill their blood.

  The Alliance forces repelled the surprise attack with minor losses, but the encounter left them shaken. No one had expected to find orcs in Kalimdor. Jaina was eager to avoid a prolonged battle, and she led the refugees up the slopes of the Stonetalon Mountains. Some of Jaina’s followers remained behind and erected defenses to stop the orcs from pursuing them.

  Thrall and the rest of the Horde arrived in the foothills shortly thereafter. They were shocked to discover Alliance forces in the area, but they were also elated to reunite with Grommash and his Warsongs. Like Jaina Proudmoore, Thrall was reluctant to bog down his people in a needless war, especially after what they had gone through in the Barrens. Defeating the Alliance was not his purpose here.

  Thrall ordered the Horde to ignore the Alliance, but his command went unheard by many orcs. Something strange was happening to his people. Ever since they had reached Ashenvale, they had become more aggressive and bloodthirsty. More like the Horde of old.

  Grommash Hellscream and his Warsongs were the worst offenders. They repeatedly defied Thrall and wet their blades with Alliance blood.

  Thrall could only tolerate so much. He sent Grommash and his Warsongs deeper into Ashenvale and ordered them to establish an outpost. Thrall believed the hard labor would keep them distracted until he returned from Stonetalon Peak.

  Begrudgingly, Grommash and his Warsongs obeyed. They considered it a grave insult to be relegated to manual labor. They were great warriors, perhaps the greatest in all the Horde. Nonetheless, they went to work and unleashed their rage on the woodlands. Their axes bit deep into Ashenvale’s ancient trees, and they chopped down large swaths of the forest to build their outpost.

  This defilement of the wilds did not go unnoticed, nor would it go unpunished. Ashenvale was not orcish land.

  It belonged to the night elves.

  The night elves were members of one of the oldest races in the world. Over ten thousand years ago, they built a glorious empire that reached the far corners of Azeroth’s single landmass. This grand achievement was made possible only by the Well of Eternity, the mystical fount of arcane energy that was the lifeblood of night elven society.

  For generations, the night elves had experimented with the Well of Eternity. As they mastered its energies and unraveled the mysteries of the arcane, they became gifted and ambitious sorcerers. The greatest of these magic users were Queen Azshara and a sect of night elven society known as the Highborne. Their unbridled pursuit of magic led to wondrous accomplishments, but it also brought their empire to ruin.

  In search of ever greater power, Azshara and the Highborne did the unthinkable. They made a pact with the Burning Legion and summoned demons into the world.

  Divisions formed among the night elves, and a resistance emerged to banish the Legion from Azeroth. These brave night elves were joined by other native races, as well as by the ancient Wild Gods, primordial creatures who dwelled in the woodland deeps. The conflict that unfolded became known as the War of the Ancients.

  The war saw the rise of many heroes, but none were more famous than the priestess Tyrande Whisperwind, the druid Malfurion Stormrage, and his twin brother, the sorcerer Illidan.

  Amid the fighting, Illidan abandoned his allies and sided with the Legion. He believed that by feigning allegiance to the demons, he could gain unimaginable power and use it to destroy them—and in doing so, he would prove his greatness.

  Illidan Stormrage did find power, but it came at a terrible price. His eyes were burned out and replaced with smoldering pits of magic, and his skin was scarred with fel tattoos. What was more, his fellow night elves saw him as a traitor.

  To cut off the Legion from the world and end the war, the resistance launched an offensive against Azshara at the Well of Eternity itself. The subsequent battle caused the fount to unravel. The Well of Eternity imploded, leading to a catastrophe known as the Great Sundering. Tectonic plates buckled. Azeroth’s sole landmass ripped apart into separate continents. The world changed forever.

  The resistance fled to Hyjal Summit to escape the devastation. When they arrived, they made a startling discovery. Illidan was already atop Hyjal, and he had created a second Well of Eternity.

  Unbeknownst to the other night elves, he had gathered some of the original Well of Eternity’s energies and used them to create a new Well. Illidan believed that if the Legion ever returned to Azeroth, the elves would need the fount’s magic to fend them off.

  More than his feigned allegiance to the Legion, it was this act that earned Illidan Stormrage the name “Betrayer.” Malfurion recommended that Illidan be loc
ked away in a barrow prison to prevent him from doing any more damage to the rest of his people.

  The night elves feared that the Legion might use the second Well of Eternity to invade the world again. These concerns were shared by the ancient Dragon Aspects. Alexstrasza, Ysera, and Nozdormu had learned of the new fount, and they were determined to protect it. Alexstrasza planted an enchanted seed at the second Well of Eternity, which sprouted into a colossal World Tree called Nordrassil. The tree acted as a cap over the fount and prevented anyone from abusing its power.

  The Dragon Aspects saw the night elves as the guardians of Nordrassil. To help them with this task, Alexstrasza and her allies infused the World Tree with potent enchantments. So long as Nordrassil stood, the night elves would enjoy immortality and immunity to disease and sickness. The World Tree would also act as a gateway to the Emerald Dream, allowing Malfurion and future druids an easier way to access the ethereal realm.

  Malfurion Stormrage spent most of his time training and leading new druids. They studied nature magic, and they dedicated themselves to maintaining the health and vitality of the wilds. Malfurion and the other druids often slumbered in the physical world while their spirits roamed the primal forests of the Emerald Dream.

  The task of leading night elven society fell to Tyrande Whisperwind. Gone were the days of empire building and reckless magic. Such pursuits had only led to death and ruin. Tyrande fostered a culture that was far more insular and cautious than before. The night elves kept to Hyjal’s woodlands, only rarely straying into far-flung lands. To protect her borders, Tyrande forged a military order called the Sentinels. The force was mainly composed of night elf priestesses, many of them hardened veterans of the War of the Ancients. The Sentinels established outposts throughout Ashenvale and at the borders of night elven territory.