World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume 3

by Blizzard Entertainment

  Nefarian had carried on his father’s work of revitalizing and empowering the black dragonflight. He subjected captured dragons to torturous rituals, hoping to tease out unexplored power by combining the blood of the different flights. His experiments were horrific, brutal, and eventually effective. For years, the spawn of this new chromatic dragonflight—consisting of blood from all five flights—had died before hatching. Eventually, a few began to survive. Then a few more. Nefarian believed he was on the verge of ensuring their survival, and he eagerly set his minions to preparing a clutch that would hatch an entire generation of this flight. The potential within them was greater than anything he could have hoped for, but for the moment, they were still vulnerable. Only a few had reached maturity and could defend themselves.

  As the black dragonflight stirred, Moira Thaurissan plotted to save her people. She knew she did not have long. Before Nefarian would turn his power upon the region, he would certainly conquer Ragnaros’s old lair and wipe out the Dark Irons.

  Moira had been impressed by the ferocity of the champions who had ended the Firelord’s reign. Once again, she had her people send information to the far corners of Azeroth, telling the world that Dal’rend’s Horde had allied with the black dragonflight. Her spies made sure that this knowledge found its way to Orgrimmar.

  As she suspected, it immediately caused an uproar among the leadership of the Horde. Thrall had known about the “true Horde” for years, but he had never imagined that they posed any real danger. If Dal’rend Blackhand was foolish enough to trust the son of Deathwing, there was little time to waste.

  Some of the Horde’s emergent champions traveled to the Eastern Kingdoms to settle the matter for good. Dal’rend personally joined the defense of Blackrock Spire. Though he was a mighty warrior, the heroes he faced were mightier still. The self-proclaimed leader of the true Horde died in his stronghold. The rest of his followers scattered, depriving the black dragonflight of their protectors.

  Nefarian turned his wrath on the Horde intruders, but they did not flee. They cut their way through endless waves of Nefarian’s twisted creations until he, too, fell to their strength and persistence.

  The Horde champions took Nefarian’s head as proof of their victory and returned to Orgrimmar as conquering heroes. As far as the citizens of Azeroth knew, the black dragonflight’s last bastion of power had just been erased, never to return.

  Off the western coast of Kalimdor, Fandral Staghelm struggled to hide the corruption that was spreading in Teldrassil from the rest of the night elves. Yet the emergent Emerald Nightmare soon began to touch the physical world in different places across Azeroth.

  Druids were the first to recognize the growing threat, even if its origins were unclear. Fandral reluctantly allowed the members of the Cenarion Circle, even the ones who were not elves, to join the fight against the Nightmare.

  The Cenarion Circle’s investigations took them across the world. An underground cave system known as the Wailing Caverns became one of the first points of conflict. After an order of druids became trapped—and some, corrupted—in the caverns’ depths, the Horde mounted a rescue mission, cleansing the caves of the Nightmare and saving several of the druids.

  But more terrifying dangers were emerging elsewhere. An old threat was stirring once again.

  More than a thousand years ago, Ysera and her green dragonflight had intervened when a group of fanatical trolls—the Atal’ai—had tried to summon a dark god to Azeroth. His name was Hakkar, the Loa of Blood, and he sustained himself on living sacrifices. The green dragonflight had sunk the Atal’ai’s temple deep beneath the boggy mires in the Swamp of Sorrows and set a watch to make sure it would never again be used for evil.

  But the green dragons were subtly being affected by the Emerald Nightmare. The descendants of the Atal’ai trolls returned to the Sunken Temple and found that its guardians were disoriented and vulnerable. Both the Nightmare and the trolls dragged the dragons down into the depths of madness and corruption. In firm control of the temple, the Atal’ai began their gruesome rituals to summon Hakkar into Azeroth again.

  A green dragon named Itharius called for help from the Cenarion Circle, and the druids sent an Alliance force to cleanse the temple. These champions slaughtered many Atal’ai adherents and put an end to their rituals, but the ripple effects of the Nightmare had only begun. Corrupted green dragons emerged from the Emerald Dream across Azeroth. Driven mad, they murdered innocents by the hundreds, indiscriminately targeting whatever living creatures were nearby.

  The Cenarion Circle’s members were mournful but resolute. Very few of the green dragons could be saved. Many were killed. There was no other way to stop their rampages. The memory of that day would haunt the green dragonflight for many years.

  And still, even though the druids and their allies had succeeded, the danger had not yet passed.

  The Zandalari trolls were shocked to learn about the attempt to summon Hakkar. They saw themselves as the spiritual leaders and guardians of their entire race, and they believed the Loa of Blood’s return would herald a dark time for their people. The Zandalari were pleased to hear that the Atal’ai had been defeated in the Sunken Temple, but their relief soon turned to horror.

  Some of Hakkar’s adherents had survived, and they were continuing their quest. They had quietly infiltrated Zul’Gurub, the capital of the Gurubashi trolls, and enslaved the minds of many of their most powerful priests. Together, the Atal’ai and their unwilling servants were performing grisly rituals to draw Hakkar into the world.

  Not all trolls in the region fell under the Atal’ai’s sway. Some launched an offensive to retake Zul’Gurub, but it ended in failure. The mighty trolls who fearlessly stormed the capital never returned. Instead, the Atal’ai captured and enslaved them, too.

  The Atal’ai and their leader, Jin’do the Hexxer, were growing more powerful by the day. The Zandalari knew that they did not have the resources to scour them from Zul’Gurub.

  They sent word through the Darkspear trolls that the Horde needed to act immediately. If the Atal’ai completed their summoning of Hakkar, it would throw the world into chaos. Thrall ordered a large strike force to respond to the threat.

  The battle for Zul’Gurub was costly and brutal. The Horde charged into the temple city, hacking through masses of Atal’ai and their enslaved followers. Though they slew Jin’do the Hexxer, his death came too late to stop Hakkar from entering the world.

  The Loa of Blood manifested as a force of death and insanity. He poisoned the blood of some of the Horde’s champions and tried to drag their thoughts into absolute madness. Yet it was Hakkar’s own power that proved to be his undoing. In desperation, all of the Horde invaders allowed themselves to be poisoned, and then they let the loa feed on their corrupted blood.

  In his frenzied state, Hakkar paid little attention to the tactics of his seemingly harmless enemies. His every thought was filled with an overwhelming urge to consume blood. Hakkar gorged on his prey, unaware of the poison flooding his veins until it was too late. The Loa of Blood succumbed to his own dark magic. The survivors staggered out of the now-silent city of Zul’Gurub, exhausted, weary, but victorious.

  The touch of the Old Gods was being felt in every major corner of the world, though few could identify its origins. The Emerald Nightmare’s spread, for all the damage it had caused, was only a symptom of the Old Gods’ reemerging power, and it was only a fraction of what they might be capable of doing should their servants release them from their prisons.

  While the Horde and the Alliance were fighting to protect their lands, Cho’gall and the Twilight’s Hammer cult continued their work to usher in the Hour of Twilight, the apocalyptic end of all things. Their journey had led them to the desert of Silithus, home to the ancient city of Ahn’Qiraj. The Old God C’Thun was imprisoned within, but the ogre mage had no way to reach it. An enchanted barrier known as the Scarab Wall stood b
etween him and his unseen master.

  HAKKAR, THE LOA OF BLOOD, IN ZUL’GURUB

  Centuries ago, a combined force of night elves and dragons had erected the Scarab Wall to contain Ahn’Qiraj’s inhabitants: vicious insectoids called the silithid and the qiraji. None could pass the barrier. Not by flying over it. Not even by tunneling under the ground.

  But Cho’gall did not need to physically pass it. Outside the wall, he and his cultists performed a great ritual. Their magic extended beyond the barrier, piercing into the prison chamber where C’Thun was chained. The influx of power shattered the Old God’s bonds. C’Thun’s liberation came at a price for Cho’gall’s followers. The energies unleashed by the ritual destroyed most of the cultists who had taken part. The few who survived were left catatonic, unable to speak or even move. Cho’gall abandoned them in the desert. He had no more use for them.

  Once C’Thun was free of its bonds, Cho’gall departed. There were other Old Gods imprisoned beneath Azeroth’s surface. The ogre mage needed to loosen their bonds, whatever the cost.

  Under C’Thun’s orders, Cho’gall also set out to recruit new members for the Twilight’s Hammer, willingly or by force. Its cultists would secretly spread to every corner of Azeroth. They would infiltrate every city, guild, and faction like an unseen plague. Then, when the time came, the Old Gods would call on the cult to rise up and herald the Hour of Twilight.

  Meanwhile, C’Thun made preparations of its own. Thousands of qiraji and silithid lay dormant in Ahn’Qiraj and beneath the sands of Silithus. Both races were remnants of the Black Empire, loyal servants forged by the blood of the Old Gods.

  C’Thun awakened the insectoids and rallied them for war.

  The disturbance in Ahn’Qiraj was noticed immediately. Druid outposts in Silithus fell under attack from swarms of silithid and qiraji. Their desperate cries for help were heard by both the Horde and the Alliance, who sent many to aid them in the land’s defense. Soon the truth of the insectoid aggression was revealed by the bronze dragonflight.

  Anachronos, a dragon who had fought the qiraji centuries ago, sensed that C’Thun had awoken. There was no doubt that only the Old God itself could have launched such a war against Azeroth, but this was but a sliver of C’Thun’s potential.

  The Old God had been imprisoned for too long. It needed time to gather its full strength. Once it did, Anachronos did not believe that any army in the world would be able to stop the entity.

  Warchief Thrall and Regent Lord Bolvar Fordragon—acting on Anduin Wrynn’s behalf—quickly came to an unprecedented agreement. Both factions would combine the might of their armies to strike back against the threat of C’Thun. Varok Saurfang, a seasoned orc warrior, was granted command of the campaign.

  Together, the heroes of Azeroth stood strong against the tides of qiraji and silithid. But the insectoids seemed to have endless numbers; eventually, they would win a war of attrition. The Horde and the Alliance’s only hope of victory was striking into the heart of Ahn’Qiraj and challenging the Old God directly.

  No one knew if it was possible to defeat C’Thun, but there was no alternative—and no shortage of volunteers.

  THE OLD GOD C’THUN IN THE TEMPLE OF AHN’QIRAJ

  The Scarab Wall around Ahn’Qiraj was impenetrable, and the only instrument capable of opening it had been destroyed, its pieces scattered across the world. The champions of Azeroth scoured the continents for fragments of this artifact, the Scepter of the Shifting Sands. They gathered each shard until finally it had been assembled.

  Varok Saurfang marched his armies to the gates of Ahn’Qiraj and decreed that the scepter be used.

  The gates flung open. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a seemingly endless tide of qiraji against the forces of Azeroth. Countless heroes fell to the insectoids that day, but the line did not bend, and it did not break. The bulk of C’Thun’s armies had just been matched, and when they crumbled, the way into Ahn’Qiraj was finally open.

  Varok wasted little time. He had no intention of letting an Old God regain its footing and spawn a new army. He ordered a dual strike upon C’Thun’s forces. The first attack would raid the ruins of Ahn’Qiraj, which held the bulk of the qiraji. Varok knew the insectoids would show no mercy. He deployed his most elite Horde champions in this fight, believing that only they could endure such a brutal battle.

  While the Horde held the line against the qiraji, the Alliance would storm beneath Ahn’Qiraj. They would not face swarms of insectoids, but they would fight C’Thun’s most powerful minions…and then they would confront the Old God itself.

  With the Horde occupying the qiraji army above, the Alliance soldiers descended into the maw of madness. The whispers of C’Thun slithered into their minds, seeking to turn them against one another.

  And yet, they succeeded. Through blade, shield, and magic, an Old God was defeated.

  Few mortals could grasp the sheer magnitude of the victory inside Ahn’Qiraj. Even the Dragon Aspects, who had lived for so long, did not truly understand how dangerous it had been to challenge C’Thun.

  The triumph of Azeroth’s defenders was a warning to the remaining Old Gods: when mortals joined forces, they were strong enough to overcome them.

  Far from Silithus, the Scourge still held sway over the fallen kingdom of Lordaeron. The toxic Plaguelands were rife with shambling undead, deadly poisons, and the vengeful spirits of those claimed by recent years of violence.

  Two opposing groups of paladins remained focused on eradicating the Lich King’s influence. The Scarlet Crusade was growing ever more belligerent and corrupt, resorting to brutal tactics against anyone who dared to question its members’ methods. But as they prosecuted their zealous war, another order of paladins grew in strength and determination. The Argent Dawn was founded by those who were sickened by the Scarlet Crusade but had refused to give up their holy mission of protecting Azeroth.

  One of the newest recruits to the Argent Dawn was Darion Mograine, the youngest son of the late Alexandros Mograine. His father’s death had left Darion shaken. It was not the Scourge that had sealed Alexandros’s doom, but his own blood.

  Darion’s brother, Renault Mograine, had fallen to darkness and murdered their father.

  For a time, Darion had questioned his faith in the Holy Light, but recent events had renewed his hope. He had learned that Alexandros’s spirit was held captive inside the floating Scourge necropolis of Naxxramas. When Darion joined the Argent Dawn, he asked them to aid him in his quest to free his father’s tortured soul.

  THE LANDS OF AZEROTH AT THE TIME OF AHN’QIRAJ’S REOPENING

  Many volunteered to help, and together, they made a daring assault on the well-defended fortress. Darion and his allies faced some of the Lich King’s most notable minions, including the fearsome Four Horsemen. The leader of the Horsemen was none other than Alexandros Mograine, raised from the grave as a death knight. Nearly all of the Argent Dawn’s party perished in the fighting. Darion barely managed to defeat his father and escape with his life.

  Against all odds, he had reclaimed the Ashbringer, the holy weapon that had earned his father renown across the land. After Alexandros’s death, the blade had been corrupted to the Lich King’s cause. Darion could hear someone speaking to him from the Ashbringer, and to his shock, he realized that it was the voice of his father. His spirit was trapped inside the weapon, and he was desperate for a way out.

  Darion obeyed his father’s wishes and sought out Renault Mograine. As the two estranged brothers came face-to-face, Alexandros’s spirit erupted from the Ashbringer and beheaded Renault in an act of justice. But whatever satisfaction Alexandros Mograine felt did not release him from his curse. He was still trapped.

  Finally, Darion sought out Tirion Fordring, an old war hero who was living in exile. Tirion knew of the Ashbringer’s legacy, and he
was distraught to see how it had been corrupted. Yet there was no easy means to cleanse it. The only way to break the curse and free the soul trapped within was to perform an act of compassion greater than the treachery that had defiled the weapon.

  Darion nearly fell to despair. He did not know what Tirion meant. He returned to the Argent Dawn and joined them at Light’s Hope Chapel in the Plaguelands. An army of Scourge was mounting an offensive against the holy site. Though the Argent Dawn were greatly outnumbered, Darion stood with them on the front lines.

  The Battle for Light’s Hope Chapel was a desperate last stand. If the Argent Dawn failed, the Scourge would claim the consecrated ground and all the righteous souls who had been laid to rest there.

  The tide of battle soon turned against the chapel’s defenders. It was then that Darion Mograine finally understood Tirion’s words. His father had died due to betrayal. The only act that could free him was to make the ultimate sacrifice.

  And if Darion could free him, then perhaps Alexandros Mograine could save the Argent Dawn from annihilation.

  Darion took the corrupted Ashbringer and impaled himself upon it. This selfless act did more than free his father. The souls interred beneath the chapel were also awakened. Alongside Alexandros, their vengeful fury laid waste to the invading Scourge.

  Light’s Hope Chapel was saved, but many had fallen. Some, including Darion, were recovered by the Scourge. Though he had saved his father’s soul, he had damned his own.

  Both Darion Mograine and the Ashbringer were now in the Scourge’s hands.

  The Scourge’s defeat at Light’s Hope Chapel did not trouble the Lich King. His agents had been watching the Horde and the Alliance. Recent conflicts in Ahn’Qiraj and other parts of the world had weakened both factions. Though the bulk of his armies were still in Northrend, he believed he had an opportunity to strengthen his position in Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms.