Xavius answered to the Old Gods, but he had many servants of his own. Among them was Fandral Staghelm. Years ago, Xavius had enticed the druid to join his efforts by convincing him that his long-dead son, Valstann Staghelm, was still alive.
When Tyrande learned of Fandral’s role in recent events, she finally uncovered the full, horrifying truth: Teldrassil had been corrupted by the Nightmare, and Fandral had been hiding that fact from the rest of the night elves.
Tyrande and her allies fought to free Malfurion. Once he had awakened, they launched an assault against Xavius and the Nightmare itself.
In the end, Xavius was defeated, and the Nightmare was largely cleansed from the Dream. Neither Tyrande Whisperwind nor Malfurion Stormrage could eradicate it completely, so they sealed away the corruption, along with Xavius’s spirit, in a corner of the Emerald Dream called the Rift of Aln. They hoped the Nightmare would stay contained there, but they feared it might one day find a way out.
The victory inside the Emerald Dream had lasting effects on many who had suffered under the Nightmare. Ysera was freed from her endless slumber, and she took on a new name to mark her return: “the Awakened.”
The Nightmare’s hold on Fandral Staghelm had also been broken, but that did not heal his wounded mind and soul. The archdruid had fallen to madness, and there was little the other druids of the Cenarion Circle could do to help him. Knowing they could not let him roam the land freely, they imprisoned Fandral in a barrow den.
In the wake of the Nightmare’s defeat, the Dragon Aspects Alexstrasza and Ysera decided that Teldrassil needed to be guarded. They both gave it their magical blessings, protecting it from the Nightmare’s corruption forevermore.
DEATHWING UNLEASHES DESTRUCTION ON AZEROTH AFTER EMERGING FROM THE ELEMENTAL PLANE
The Old Gods had suffered shocking setbacks in recent years, including the defeat of C’Thun and Yogg-Saron at the hands of Azeroth’s defenders. They had never anticipated such fierce resistance. They had never anticipated the rise of such fearless heroes.
Shrouded in an ocean of fevered dreams, among the bones of nameless horrors, N’Zoth remained untouched by the blades of mortals. The Old God was certain that Azeroth’s champions would eventually seek it out and try to overwhelm it as they had done to C’Thun and Yogg-Saron.
N’Zoth was not afraid, but it did sense that a window of opportunity was fast closing. The world was wounded by the recent war against the Lich King. The ancient Dragon Aspects were consumed by their own struggles. Ysera had recently returned from the depths of the Emerald Dream, but she was not the same as she had once been. Prophetic visions bombarded her mind, and she found it difficult to tell what was real from what was not. Meanwhile, Nozdormu had disappeared in the timeways in search of the shadowy force that was disrupting the past, present, and future. Malygos was dead, leaving the blue dragonflight leaderless. Only Alexstrasza continued safeguarding Azeroth, but she was in dire need of rest after helping the Alliance and the Horde fight in Northrend.
The time to usher in the Hour of Twilight was now.
The first hammer blow to herald the apocalypse would not come from Cho’gall or his cultists. It would come from Deathwing. Sometime after the Battle of Grim Batol, Deathwing had taken refuge in Deepholm, the realm of earth in the Elemental Plane. Ages ago, the keepers had forged the Elemental Plane to contain the world’s unruly elemental spirits. For Deathwing, Deepholm was something of a second home. His innate connection to the element of earth allowed him to absorb the realm’s latent energies and use them to gather his strength and nurse his wounds.
N’Zoth fed its own dark energy into Deathwing’s heart, infusing the black Dragon Aspect with a power unlike any that he had ever known. This influx of strength made his form more unstable, and the magma that flowed through his veins threatened to erupt from his body and consume him entirely.
At N’Zoth’s command, Twilight’s Hammer cultists ventured into Deepholm to help Deathwing. They bolted elementium plates over the black Dragon Aspect’s wounds to keep his body from tearing apart. The process was agonizing, and Deathwing often unleashed his wrath on the cultists.
As the cultists tended to Deathwing, N’Zoth reached out to its other ancient allies in the Elemental Plane. When the world was young, the Old Gods had enslaved Azeroth’s destructive elemental spirits and used them as weapons. They would have a role to play in the Hour of Twilight as well. N’Zoth called on the elementals to prepare for war, but not all of them answered.
Two elemental rulers defied the Old God: Neptulon the Tidehunter and Therazane the Stonemother. In the ages since their enslavement, they had broken the shackles that had bound them to the Old Gods. They would not serve N’Zoth, and they would fight with all their fury against any attempts by the entity or its servants to enslave them.
The remaining elemental lords embraced N’Zoth’s command. Ragnaros the Firelord and Al’Akir the Windlord relished the prospect of war, and their ties to the Old Gods remained unbroken. N’Zoth promised to release them from their prisons and let them roam free on Azeroth as they once had in ancient times.
Deathwing himself would be the key to their liberation. Once the black Dragon Aspect was ready for war, he would burst forth from Deepholm and tear a rift between the Elemental Plane and the surface of Azeroth. Deathwing would also serve as an extension of N’Zoth’s will, commanding the Twilight’s Hammer and the elementals and coordinating their attacks. The Old God made him believe that by doing so, he could scour Azeroth of other dragons and claim the world as his own.
In truth, N’Zoth had no plans to reward Deathwing. The Old God would use the corrupted Dragon Aspect to restore the Black Empire to its former glory and shroud the world in shadow.
Once that was accomplished, N’Zoth would dispose of its servant.
In Deepholm, Deathwing basked in the dual energies of N’Zoth and the Elemental Plane. He recovered at a startling pace, but it came at great cost to the world. Absorbing the Elemental Plane’s power had destabilized the realm and thrown the elementals into turmoil. Their pain and confusion were not confined to Deepholm; they spread to the surface of Azeroth.
The oceans churned in anger. Freak storms howled down from the mountains and blanketed normally temperate regions in ice. The earth heaved and groaned, triggering earthquakes across the world. These natural disasters did not stop. They grew ever more frequent and severe. Travel became perilous, and many merchant vessels were lost at sea.
Warchief Thrall and other shaman sensed that something was very wrong with the elements, but what was causing this upheaval remained a mystery. On many occasions, Thrall tried to commune with the elemental spirits, but they were in no condition to give him answers. He could do nothing to calm the beings. Then an idea came to him: if he could not commune with Azeroth’s elementals, perhaps he could speak to the ones on Outland and receive their advice.
Before Thrall left for Outland, he named Garrosh Hellscream as the Horde’s acting warchief. The warrior still had much to learn, but he had proved himself to be a capable leader in the war against the Lich King. Garrosh’s bravery and fierce pride had made him very popular, especially among the orcs.
Not all of Thrall’s advisors agreed with his choice of acting warchief. High Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof argued against passing control of the Horde to Garrosh, whom he saw as a brash warmonger. Thrall held Cairne in the highest regard, but his decision was final. He believed that this new responsibility would temper Garrosh and grant him wisdom. He was wrong.
Taking on the mantle of leadership only encouraged Garrosh to indulge his warlike ways. He believed the Horde was being too timid. Resources were scarce, especially after the war in Northrend. The elemental turmoil engulfing the world had only made things worse.
After Thrall had departed, Garrosh turned his gaze northwest, to the lush forests of Ashenvale. It was a land of plenty, and
it was well within the Horde’s reach. Most of the region belonged to the night elves, but that did not stop Garrosh from sending troops into the woodlands. He was not interested in asking the Alliance for resources or trading for them. Why would he do that, when he could simply take what he wanted by force?
The Horde’s new incursions into Ashenvale enraged the Alliance. Tensions between the factions flared, and open war seemed inevitable.
Some of the Horde’s members welcomed these bold and aggressive maneuvers, but Cairne Bloodhoof did not. The elder tauren did everything he could to reason with the acting warchief and prevent bloodshed. In Cairne’s eyes, Garrosh was leading the Horde down a dangerous path, one that would inevitably destroy it.
Garrosh did not listen to his wisdom, and so Cairne spoke the only language the orc would understand. He challenged Garrosh to a mak’gora, a ritualistic duel.
Before a crowd of onlookers, the tauren and the orc fought for the future of the Horde itself. On one side stood the promise of a peaceful future. On the other, the promise of blood and conquest.
It was blood and conquest that won the day. Cairne Bloodhoof fought bravely, but he fell to his opponent. With the elder tauren’s death, none remained to oppose Garrosh Hellscream’s rule.
Much like the Horde, the Alliance was struggling with internal unrest. The elemental upheaval had hit the dwarven city of Ironforge especially hard. Massive earthquakes rocked the snowy hills outside the stronghold, causing widespread destruction and loss of life.
King Magni Bronzebeard was determined to protect his people from these disasters, even at the risk of his own well-being. He and his advisors had recently learned of an ancient ritual to commune with the earth. It originated from the dwarves’ ancestors, a race of stone-skinned beings called the earthen. Magni volunteered to undergo the ritual himself so he could find out what was causing Azeroth’s troubles.
The ritual did not go as he had planned. It didn’t simply connect Magni with the earth; it made him one with it. He transformed into a seemingly lifeless diamond statue. Most believed that he was dead, and Ironforge mourned the loss of their king.
News of Magni’s fate reached his estranged daughter, Moira Thaurissan, in Shadowforge City. In recent years, she had worked to free the Dark Iron dwarf clan from their ancient masters, the fire elementals, and protect them from the black dragonflight. Yet current events threatened to destroy Moira’s progress. As the elemental spirits grew more chaotic, some of the Dark Irons reverted to their old ways. They bent the knee to Ragnaros and led a revolt against Moira.
Moira saw Ironforge’s vacant throne as an opportunity to deliver her loyal Dark Irons to a safe place. She knew the dwarves of Ironforge would not welcome them with open arms. The Bronzebeards were bitter rivals of the Dark Irons. Yet that did not stop Moira. By the rules of royal succession, the crown belonged to her. Moira’s word was law.
She marched into Ironforge with her Dark Irons and declared herself queen under the mountain. Some dwarves were furious about her return, but others accepted her as their leader. Tensions boiled in the city, threatening to ignite civil war.
To prevent the outbreak of violence, Moira took an iron-fisted stance. She barred anyone from entering or leaving Ironforge until she could complete her transfer of power. This proved to be a grave mistake. Stormwind’s crown prince, Anduin Wrynn, was in the city at the time. Holding him hostage was seen by King Varian as an act of war. The only family he had left was his son, and he would do anything to protect him, even spill royal blood.
Varian Wrynn gathered a strike force of assassins and infiltrated Ironforge. They moved like shadows through the city until they cornered Moira. Varian would have cut her throat then and there if not for Anduin. The prince pleaded with his father to show mercy. It was a difficult thing for Varian to restrain himself and walk the path of peace. But in the end, he saw the wisdom of Anduin’s words.
THE GRIMTOTEM COUP
Cairne Bloodhoof’s death was the result of treachery. One of his fiercest rivals, the tauren Magatha Grimtotem, had seen his duel with Garrosh Hellscream as an opportunity. She had dreamed of seizing her race’s capital, Thunder Bluff, and asserting control over all tauren. Only Cairne had stood in her way.
Magatha had secretly coated Garrosh’s legendary axe, Gorehowl, with poison. It was this advantage that had allowed him to slay Cairne.
After the duel, Magatha led a coup in Thunder Bluff and seized the city. Yet her victory was short-lived. Cairne’s son, Baine Bloodhoof, launched a counterattack that deposed Magatha. He had every right to execute his foe, but he stayed his hand. He looked to his father’s teachings for guidance, and he decided that walking the path of honor and compassion was the mark of a true leader. In the end, he exiled Magatha far from Thunder Bluff.
During these events, Magatha beseeched Garrosh for help, but he gave her none. He was furious that she had poisoned his blade. It had tarnished his victory in the mak’gora and called into question whether he was truly a better fighter than Cairne.
Varian had spared Moira’s life, but he wouldn’t grant her sole dominion over Ironforge after what she’d done. He called for a new organization to rule the ancient city. In response, the dwarves formed the Council of Three Hammers, a governing body that included a representative from each of their rival clans.
Some dwarves welcomed it, but others chafed at the idea of the clans being ruled by a council. Though it took time, the Council of Three Hammers found its footing. Three prominent dwarves would serve on it in the years to come: Moira Thaurissan, Falstad Wildhammer, and Muradin Bronzebeard.
The three clans had not lived together for hundreds of years. Finding common ground was a daily struggle. Tensions remained high, and sporadic violence broke out between the dwarves.
Conditions were only destined to become worse in the months ahead, for both Ironforge and the rest of the world.
Thrall knew nothing of the events unfolding on Azeroth.
On Outland, he met with Greatmother Geyah and sought her advice about the elemental unrest on his world. The wise orc revealed a hard truth to Thrall: he was a gifted shaman, but he still had much to learn. If he hoped to make any difference on Azeroth, he needed to hone his connection to the elements.
There were talented shaman among Outland’s Mag’har orcs. Geyah called on her brightest student to mentor Thrall. Her name was Aggra, and she gave no quarter to her new pupil. She was not impressed by the fact that Thrall had led the Horde. To the contrary, she considered that to be part of the reason he was struggling to grow as a shaman. Aggra argued that he had divided his attention between his duties as warchief and as a shaman. He would never reach his full potential in either role until he chose one to focus on.
Thrall refused to abandon the Horde, but he did devote himself to Aggra’s teachings. He listened. He watched. He learned. Day by day, his connection to the elements strengthened. And day by day, he and Aggra grew closer.
Once Thrall was confident in his new abilities, he visited the Throne of the Elements. This sacred site was a home to Outland’s elemental spirits and a place of worship for shaman. Four great beings called the Elemental Furies dwelled there: Gordawg, Fury of Earth; Incineratus, Fury of Fire; Kalandrios, Fury of Air; and Aborius, Fury of Water.
The Furies had suffered immensely in recent decades. When the old Horde had first risen to power, its use of fel magic had broken the elementals’ strength. Then came the destruction of Draenor, which had nearly annihilated them. The Furies’ recovery had been a long and painful process, but the future was bright. Peace had finally settled on Outland.
Thrall beseeched the Furies for help, for a solution to ease Azeroth’s own elementals. Instead, he received a warning: the elemental unrest on the world echoed the conditions on Draenor just before it had ripped apart.
Thrall returned to Azeroth to warn his people of what he had learned. Aggra
decided to accompany him. Although it was difficult for her to leave her home in Nagrand, she believed it was her duty as a shaman to help Azeroth’s elements. Moreover, she didn’t want Thrall to face the trials ahead alone. She had come to see him as something more than a pupil, more than even a friend.
Azeroth had changed since Thrall had left. He was shocked to learn of the renewed conflict between the Horde and the Alliance. He was even more disturbed to discover that Cairne Bloodhoof was dead, struck down by the very orc Thrall had entrusted to lead his people. Thrall had been wrong to put his faith in Garrosh Hellscream, and he blamed himself for all that had come to pass.
But he had no chance to set things right. Before Thrall’s eyes, the world buckled. The ground cracked beneath his feet.
The Cataclysm had begun.
The time had come. Deathwing’s volatile form bristled with fire and shadow. The elementium plates bolted to his hide were all that kept this power from tearing apart his body. At N’Zoth’s word, he gathered his rage and unleashed it. Deathwing exploded from Deepholm into Azeroth, breaking down the boundaries between the Elemental Plane and the physical world.
His return ignited a chain reaction of natural disasters across the globe, which collectively became known as the Cataclysm. Mountains crumbled to dust. Fiery chasms tore open in the earth. Towering waves slammed into the coasts, annihilating seaside towns and causing widespread flooding. Casualties numbered in the thousands, but there was more death to come. Much more.
N’Zoth stoked the fire in Deathwing’s veins, filling him with excruciating pain. The black Dragon Aspect turned his fury on the world. His smoldering form darkened the skies as he bathed cities and forests in flame. His relentless destruction seemed indiscriminate, but it had a purpose.
World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume 3 Page 23