#Zangar Sea

[findmeinshattrath]

SO wish we could have had the fungal whales in WoD

Tell me this wouldn't have been amazing

[warcraft-lore-archives]

Azerothian Botany - Zangarium Draenormycota

The “Zangarium Draenormycota,” as it was coined by Dr. Hadley Ricard of the Nesingwary expedition, is one of the most common fungal strains in the Zangar Sea’s ecosystem [Quest: A Fascinating Fungus, Item: Fungal Spores]. While many of Draenor’s fungi are very similar to Azeroth’s, the Zangarium Draenormycota is particularly unique. It is highly adaptable and can be found both on and inside many living organisms near the Zangar Shore, making it the perfect fungus for spreading spores inland [Quest: A Fascinating Fungus, Quest: Dirgemire, Page: Zangar Encroachment]. The brains of the local spore giants are actually composed of this specific fungus [Quest: Dirgemire, Item: Fungal Brain].

[swampgallows]

something about warlords of draenor is just like heart-crushingly sad to me and i cant exactly put my finger on what it is. its a combination of both lore and external real-world stuff i think. stuff like how the zangar sea stretches on seemingly forever (and hides scary shit like the colossal depths ‘signal’ and the scrapped ogre landmass which has since been removed, or rumor that zangarmarsh/the sea itself was intended to be a zone) yet real world outland’s lack of water is the subject of an entire raid tier. 

all the stuff that was scrapped that we never got to see. farahlon, karabor, oshu’gun. shattrath raid. a ton of draenei shit basically. more mok’nathal. more of the orc clans themselves beyond being multicolored mobs. more of the warlords (KARGATH). more about the arakkoa. more about the iron horde technology, ESPECIALLY the fucking trains!!! gorgrond and the iron docks seem primed and ready for a railway system throughout draenor but remain static fixtures. i have no evidence of this but it would be interesting if they considered railroads as an alternative to flying, or if they ever considered implementing railways afterward in azeroth (the deeprun tram already exists, so it would be cool if the horde had an equivalent). garrisons perhaps envisioned as player housing to an extent but reduced to isolated farmville interfaces. 

and of course me being selfish here but more of garrosh’s delicate interactions with his not-father, like the hellscream short story. humanizing moments where he’s told that draenor’s perfect timeway is one where he was never born. going through the effort of killing him exactly where he stands in outland but being unable to draw a conclusion from the pseudo-poetic finish. 

i dunno man draenor bums me the fuck out. land of missed opportunities

[karruunkasaara]

The Maiden's Dream

Days of time bled together... The steady sound of ocean waves beat against wooden planks, and shore. A crisp sea breeze of the night, and salty flavor of the air.

An overbearing nausea... Had it been from the abandonment, that left Karruun crying on shore? Or the kinetosis of traveling for days by boat? Stars stretched out like a blanket far above. An aurora like fog, and sky, fall into view. Moonlight reflecting the whispy strands of mist that surrounded these high cliffs, and much colder winds...

A pounding, and painful reverberation struck Karruun's heart. The realization of what had happened in Ravenport on that shore...

"When did that happen again?"

She asked herself in a confusion, as flashing images of her lover leaving creeped into her head. Creating an open wound of the heart... Reminiscent words echoed in her mind... But they too bled together as a concoction of voices...

"You're selfish... this isn't about you... Coward... A lost cause... Basically already dead... Fool... What if I don't know what I want?"

The voices kept repeating in her mind, vision beginning to blur in tears, as she slows to a dock, just at the forefront of that Aurora. Her thoughts flew into a flurry, thinking deeply about every moment with Rei. Yes there were bad moments, but strangely, she could actually think of every wonderful moment they shared. And it outweighed the worst. That feeling bore deep into her, and soon she found herself reliving other moments of her life.

She wiped tears from her eyes, as the thoughts darkened... Smoke, and dim surroundings. An Eredar, mauve in color, showed the cracks of Fel fire in her skin. She wielded a spear, and shield. Before the Eredar stood Karruun, decked in her heaviest set of armor.

"This isn't you Kasaara! Let it go! There is still -time-!"

Karruun had yelled out, pleading with her corrupted sister. But Kasaara could not see her Karruun in that moment, could not see anything but an enemy in front of her. The Eredar lashed out, and the battle lasted but a few moments, as a Spear pierced into Kasaara deeply.

Karruun would remember catching Kasaara, holding her in her arms as the life faded from her eyes slowly.

"Don't... lose your way... sister..." Kasaara's hand reaches and cups Karruun's face. "Don't... h-hide you....your emotion... like father..." The final breath slip from her lips, and her hand falls.

A war in Nagrand would come to mind, the fall of the Spear Maidens there. The demons, and orcs who ended her father's life, putting his head to spear... The absolute unending rage she had felt when -she- was the one to hunt every one of those down who brought a near end to her family.

Karruun squinted out the last bit of tears from the memories. So, busying her mind would be the answer for now. She anchors and ties the small ship, setting supplies to shore. Her gaze would follow the stairs that climb all the way to the top of the cliffs. Swallowing back the lump of her emotions, she began her work. After a few hours, all of the supplies would make their way to the top, and into The Maiden's Grove.

The whisps of fog, and magical aurora alike, drifted calmly in the small forest. The ambiance of separation from society, from people. Just to be alone with her thoughts, her emotions, and nature itself. A shaky breath, and a shake of her head, she continued her busy work. Unpacking rations, bedroll, waterskin, and incense. She would complete her work hours before the dawn could approach. The aroma of starflower, and incense filled the thicket.

Finally stopping to rest upon a rug, and pillows beneath the roots of the eldest tree in her charge. Planted just beneath this tree were old testaments of her life on Draenor. A series of plant life that held meaning to her, kept to grow like that of Bonsai's. A willow of Shadowmoon, the blue mushrooms of Zangar, and the starflowers of Nagrand. As she sat staring at the Shadowmoon willow tree, her mind began to ponder the events of the last two weeks, until her eyes closed. Incense wafting into her nose.

A dull thrum would grew audibly, her chest expanded and released in harmony. Arms weakining, resting to her lap. Head slumping forwards into-

~Thoom~

The steady vibration sounded.

~Throom~

The sound became clearer.

~"Groooow..."~

A voice?

~"Grove Maiden."~

The words suddenly breathing into ear, or perhaps her mind. Deep, eerie, as if connected to her very being. She inhaled sharply, deeply in a fright.

~"Caaaalm Child..."~

Silence, then suddenly...

Pink clouds, a setting sun, a lush green land below... Focus to a mouse... Hunger, and excitement, as the dive began towards its prey. The wind, passing through feathered wings, and the owls screech.

A shift...

~"Live throoooough us..."~

Night, darkness in the deep jungle... unassuming rabbit... The deep rumble of a low growl. The speed, as muscles flex, claws protrude. Another meal aquired, the taste of blood... slinking stealthily into the night...

~"Let themmmm live through yoooou."~

One by one, living and breathing as the animals of the wild. The spirits Karruun had found the most affinity with in her years would come to her. The owl, the cheetah, the bear, the clefthoof, and the pit viper. All living through her... And she... living through them.

A cold wind seemed to shape the shift, as the voice seemed to say something, but it became lost, and garbled.

~"See... Feelings... Those you... focus too long."~

A shakier breath, and the shift came once more. Personal thoughts, playing into dream... She saw Chandrei, knelt upon the ground, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't see where, or why, and even as Rei spoke, no words were audible. Just an overwhelming feeling to mend a family lost... and deeper pain than even Karu could truly understand. Karruun reached out, as if to try and hold her...

"My love... I am here."

But much like touching an undisturbed pond, the image just as quickly rippled away. The feeling returning to her yet again, abandonment, unable to help, and the spiral began again...

Lymantria's voice echoed "Selfish". The thief who almost shot Karruun in the back of her head, before he let her live, because she was basically already dead, and a waste of time. Pain gripped her, and a darkness began to take hold.

As another shift took place. Soon red webs like a tunnel filled her mind. At the far end, her sister Kasaara, before she was ever corrupted... Turned and smiled to Karruun, her soft sweet voice sending a chill down the Dreamer's spine.

"You alright there? You seem down, have you lost your way again Sis? You've only ever done what you thought was right, and -you- were the one who always told me to follow your heart. " Kasaara's head tilted to the side, as a more sombered smile encroached her lips. "So... where is your heart Karruun?"

The images of the webs spin away, and Kasaara suddenly explodes into a dazzle of... fel green shards. Karruun's heart thumps, a squeezing feeling, darkness beginning to envelope her.

An anger unlike anything before began to take to her-

~Settle child, focus...~

That deep voice echoes out once more, fully heard... As if a hand had grasped her from falling deeply into a void. Another sharp breath, and Karruun opened her eyes. The very spirits of the wild she had called to, perched, or stood staring deeply into her. The voice spoke again to her, and all of the spirits around her seemed to speak in unison.

"You experience the Dream Grove Maiden, when next it comes to you, let it ebb and flow through you, take heart, Karruun. The best is yet to come..."

The images fade, the voice fades, and soon darkness becomes light-

Karruun sat up from under that tree, just as the first rays of dawn began to warm her skin. She squints, and looks around herself... no spirits, no Chandrei, no sister... Just her... and The Grove. A gentle wind would blow, leaves rustling down around her.

She stood and walked to the edge of the cliffs, looking out over the sea. A dream... The dream? She felt weary, and drained... Days of time bled together... The steady sound of ocean waves beat against wooden planks, and shore. A crisp sea breeze of the night, and salty flavor of the air...

[breadknight-likes-things]

Bread’s Game Journal 06/18/20: Through The Dark Portal, An Outland Retrospective, Part 2: Zangamarsh.

Zangamarsh is probably just about the last thing anybody adventuring into Outland expected to see, and it shows up a lot earlier than you’d think:a place of thriving life.  Sure it’s a swamp, but the very presence of organic life growing anywhere on this planet comes as a surprise after you’ve just spent hours leveling in a blood red fire wasteland.  Dominated by giant mushrooms and various large lakes, Zangamarsh is probably the single most alien feeling zone in Outland, due in large part to it’s array of strange creatures and glowing flora and fauna.  Not to mention all the killer snake people who will just not leave you alone!

I have a....complex history with Zangamarsh.  When I first came upon it, like all the times I start in a new zone, I was fascinated with it.  By the end of my adventures there, I wouldn’t say I didn’t like it, but I was sure ready to move on.  In subsequent visits on new characters, and most recently while leveling through all the old content.....I can’t stand the place.  It’s really through no fault of the zones design, and more on the issues, again, that a lot of the archaic quest design causes in an era where Vanilla WoW’s deliberate pacing simply doesn’t exist anymore.  It’s most apparent in a lot of the enemy spawn timers being dreadfully slow by modern standards, and causing a lot of the quests to take much longer than they should.  All players spend a pretty signifigant amount of time battling for the slowly spawning Naga mobs you spend most of this zone fighting, if you were doing this before they expanded tagging?  I admire your patience. 

Day or night, whenever you go, the zone has this kind of gloomy night time haze that works really well to set the mood.....also i’m not actually sure if Outland has a sun anymore.

The Naga?  Remember them?  Of course you do, we just spent most of Battle for Azeroth fighting them, up to and including their queen!  They had a big role in the story of this zone, both enslaving a lot of the local races to toil in their....something mines (i’m still not sure what the slave pen slaves are actually doing) and stealing what amounts to most of the remaining water of Outland to do...something, with.  It’s an underdeveloped plot for sure, but it’s a big hoot to get to fight iconic bad guys like Lady Vasj, who we all remember as the Naga leader that introduced us to the race existing at all in Frozen Throne!  Other, more friendly, races like the Sporegar round out the inhabitants of Zangamarsh and made sure that you were never bored when you were exploring this weird place.

I think something notable to bring up about Zanagamarsh too, is it’s relation to Dreanor in the later Warlords of Dreanor expansion.  For a long time it was hard to figure out exactly what Zangamarsh even could have been, to end up looking like it does, in a world that’s now literally shattered fragments floating through space, and when it was revealed what it actually used to be it all came into focus in a big way.  There is no “Zangamarsh” on Dreanor, but the “Zangar Sea” to the south of Frost Fire ridge sure does have some big mushrooms growing in it!  When you consider that the only reason all this water is left at all is that Zangamarsh is just some piece of the mostly drained ocean floor, left among the other landmasses, it makes it a bit more understandable how a place like this could exist in such a chaotic place to begin with!  

Zangamarsh has it’s issues, but it’s also incredibly unique among the rest of the Outland zones.  There are more places in Outland that show signs of life, one where life is even thriving as normal, but none felt more like stepping onto a vibrant alien planet still teeming with all sorts of bizarre alien life than Zangamarsh did.

Best Refuge In A Broken Land Award: Telredor

Telredor is a refuge city for the Alliance built on the roof of one of the giant mushrooms!  It’s one of the few surviving safe places for any of the Dreanei left in Outland and being so high up above all the dangers while you do your business actually makes it feel like one of the safest places for a player to be in the entire expansion pack!

Random Screenshot Of The Day:

It’s 2020 and it haunts me a lot that I still have absolutely no idea where the plot of this zones main conflict was even going.  What were the Naga doing with the water?  Were they sending it to someone?  Were the steam vaults just one giant vape?  Is that what happened?  Please, anyone, tell me!

Stray Notes:

- The Horde town in Zangamarsh deserves a shutout at least, as does the Cenarion Refuge you’re greeted with immediately upon entering the zone.  Both are fun settlements in an expansion where most Settlements being “fun” isn’t even the third thought in anybodies mind, let alone the first! - Unrelated to WoW, but hey, who’s amped for the big sad fest of Last of Us Part 2 on Friday?  I know I am!  I don’t know why I am, but I am!

[brightbell]

A Letter to Sisters

My Dear Sisters,

I have just returned home from a visit to Outland, as the people here call it. It has taken me many years to gather the courage to go on this quest, and I honestly can not say if I am glad that I did, or if I regret it. 

It was, without a doubt, one of the hardest things I have done since we decided to leave Talador and join the Alliance in Azeroth. 

My heart is broken. I have seen things that would make the hardest Vindicator fall to their knees. I have seen what has become of our blessed Auchindoun, and I fear I will never recover from the sight. It is in ruins. A shell of its former glory, abandoned and left to the ravages of time, and demons. I explored the area extensively, and found nothing but sorrow.

Our planet itself has been blasted to pieces, most of it unrecognizable as the (mostly) beautiful place we know it as. Names of places have changed, and once-great cities have either been left to the devices of the forests, or they have been reduced to ashes. 

Talador is no more there. It is now a place called Terokkar Forest, and that is where the ruins of Auchindoun lay. Shattrath, by some miracle, still stands, but it seems to be shrouded in shadows, instead of being a beacon of Light and hope. I stayed there for a few days, preparing for our journey to Auchindoun, which is surrounded by a vast wasteland where nothing grows any longer. 

Ashran is completely gone. There is no sign of it anywhere, and nothing, except my maps of Draenor, to know it even existed. And Tanaan itself is veritable hell, now called Hellfire Peninsula. The very land is scorched and corrupted beyond recognition. Monstrous beasts and demons roam the hellscape, and it is there that the Dark Portal resides.   

I do not even begin to know how to describe Gorgrond, it has broken off from the rest of the planet and is now called Netherstorm. It is frightening, I mean, it always was, but now it is something so different that it shocks the senses. Arcane magics rule there, and there is a Draenei vessel known as Tempest Keep that sits just off the edge of the land. It, too, is corrupted, but with arcane magic instead of felfire. 

What was once Frostfire Ridge is now a vast desert canyon, with enormous spiked cliffs, aptly called Blade’s Edge Mountains. It is hot and arid, no sign of the pure, soft snow that used to cover the ground. I do not know what could have happened to make the land become so perverted, and to look like it does now. I did not linger long there.

Traveling south, we came into Zangarmarsh, what used to be the Zangar Sea. The sea is now mostly gone, and in its place is little islands dotting the area, huge mushrooms, and alien species living there. And Trolls. Damned Trolls have taken over some of the areas there. 

The Spires of Arak is completely gone, like Ashran, no evidence of the land’s existence at all. It’s like the land was just blasted away. And Shadowmoon Valley, how do I even describe what I saw there? Nightmare inducing might be the easiest way. There are no more lush forests. There are no more cities. The only thing that is there now is felfire, demons, beasts and the Black Temple that lays in ruins itself. It was hideous.

The only place that bears any resemblance to home is Nagrand, and even it is greatly changed. Oshu’gun is also abandoned, and settlements of orcs reside everywhere, along with ogres and other various unsavory things. 

All in all, it was not a fun adventure, not at all. The greatest loss, I believe, is Talador and Auchindoun. But it is all just so foreign, and so heartbreaking that it was like visiting a different planet, instead of what was once our home in this timeline. None of our family nor ancestors are still alive in this reality. 

My sweet Elodie, I humbly request that you do not attempt this journey, I fear it would be too much for you. Relv’ka, if you decide to go, please meet with me first, it is not a journey for the faint of hear. 

I am going to return to my small cabin in Redridge, should either of you like to visit. 

All my love,

Kala’Ryn

[actionjaxkol]

Meal of the day: Shadowmoon Medicinal Congee

So I've been sick lately. Nothing serious, but Alexi says he thinks it was a mix of stress, not enough sleep and a bug. I don't remember seeing any bugs, and I wasn't like, stung by a silithid so I don't know what he meant by that. But he let me watch him in the kitchen as he put together some traditional Draenic medicine.

While Mrs Bendon, a Gilnean harvest witch, teaches that unassuming plants can harm or heal, Alexi takes it a bit further and says that the very foods you eat can affect your body. I sat in his cabin bundled in a blanket cuz even though it was hot out I was freezing.

First he took a medium cauldron and filled it with water, some stock paste and some bone-in dark meat poultry. He said it was chicken but if that's too exotic I bet you could use sea bird or even a piece of strider leg. The bone is important though. He also tossed in some dried Pandaren hardshell mushroom strips. Then he added a scoop of rice and put the whole thing over the fire to start to boil.

Then he carefully chopped up an orange carrot, an onion, some Pandaren wood mushrooms, white Zangar button mushrooms, a stalk of celery, some aromatic Sungrass, some Liferoot, Mountain Silversage and a metric ton of garlic.

When I say carefully I mean he chopped them tiny. He said that's necessary so that the sick person doesn't need to chew a lot and also so that it's easier to digest or something. He gave me this weird herbal tea and I was getting really tired at that point.

At some point the rice was done and the chicken was cooked but I don't remember any of that. He said that you want to use darker meat because it has more fat which is good for recovery and stays tender during the long cooking period. The bone breaks down and puts some necessary minerals into the broth. While I apparently napped, he took out the chicken and bones and shredded the meat before returning to the pot with all the finely chopped vegetables and herbs. He also removed the hardshell mushroom strips at this point.

After about another 15 minutes, he let it cool and then once it was ready he added some soy and fish sauce and woke me up.

The result was a silky porridge, tasting at once very rich and hearty and really fresh. He topped mine with Soapweed but parsley will work too if you don't like that herb. Don't be scared away by fish sauce, it just amplifies the savoriness of the dish.

I really did feel better after this, the energy seemed to come back to me and I was in much better spirits. But I'm also really food motivated so maybe he could have fed me a sandwich and I'd be happy too. Then again, I wasn't sick the next day so there's that.

Alexi also wanted to point out that if you have congestion, add some hot sauce like fermented red pepper sauce or red pepper flakes.

Ingredients:

12 cups water

2 cups rice (any kind, but white or smaller grain rices will make a silkier porridge)

About 4 skin on, bone in chicken thighs or comparable

Chicken bouillon to taste (optional, we used about 2 tbl of Better than Bouillon chicken goop)

About 3 4-inch slices of dried hardback mushroom slices (optional and medicinal, can sub Reishi mushrooms)

2 inches Liferoot, peeled and minced (can sub ginger root for a more flavorful medicine)

2 stalks Sungrass, interior pulp (can sub lemongrass, about 1 tbl interior pulp. Can also sub 1 half lemon and juice, let the peel simmer if using lemon)

1 medium carrot finely chopped

1 stalk celery, finely chopped

1 lb Pandaren wood mushrooms, finely chopped, stalks removed (optional and medicinal. Can sub shiitake mushrooms)

1 lb Zangar button mushrooms, finely chopped (can sub white button or baby Bella)

3 cloves garlic (or as much as you can stand, more is better)

3 leaves Mountain Silversage

Salt and pepper to taste.

Soapweed (cilantro) or parsley

Soy sauce

Fish sauce

Instructions

Combine water, rice, hardshell mushroom, chicken thighs and stock in a large pot. Bring to boil them reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. You want the rice to break down and the meat to fall off the bone

Remove chicken and hardshell strips.

Shred chicken and return to pot

Add all other ingredients and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until cooked through and silky. Stir occasionally to prevent rice from burning.

Allow to cool and thicken. Season to taste.

Plate and add Soapweed or parsley, soy, fish sauce and hot sauce if desired.

Eat and feel better!

[fitzefitcher]

so some notes about fel orc thrall & garrosh AU I guess:

- frostwolves drank the blood; nerzhul's message reached them too late. but they know, now, and they're pissed. there's nothing they can do about it, though, for now at least. - nerzhul didn't drink it but he didn't have to. gul'dan's corruption was enough for the both of them. - the orcs were united to fight against the ogres and gronn; the draenei landed, but because their technology was so incompatible with the planet, they were forced to abandon nearly all of it. there is no resentment to speak of between them and the orcs. however, they do still leave, when their clerics start getting inklings of a demonic presence. shattrath and karabor are abandoned. they take oshu'gun, the genedar, with them, and many orcs lose faith in the elements and the ancestors because of this. - the draenei still land on azeroth, and they are left unmolested by the bloodelves. - in the wake of seemingly being abandoned and nerzhul being shaken to his core about what happened, guldan is able to swoop in and say that he's been contacted by a divine being, and that they will lead the orcs to greatness and glory. they won't just survive the surrounding threats- they'll thrive in it. - the gorian empire was easy enough to demonize; they did it to themselves, and the burning legion hardly had to do anything to unite the orcs against a foe that was already attempting to kill them en masse. the imperator at the time, in a desperate attempt to restore the empire to its former glory, was slowly eating away at orc territory. the orcs were easy enough to turn to wildness. - kil'jaeden did intend to turn the orcs against the draenei at some point, but velen fled, and the orcs were difficult & unwilling to turn against a people that had done them no wrong. but he could do that later, he figured, after corrupting them, having them go against the gorian empire, and then corrupting them further. this does not go according to plan. - the orcs never cross over to azeroth, and draenor is never blown to bits. large portions of the land still become a hellscape. - when draka drinks the blood, all her physical ailments fall away. seeing this, grom takes guldan and the blood to the quarantined, and the red pox is cured, albeit through a harrowing means. it's rough, but most of them survive the process. his wife, golka, lives to see another day. there are no mag'har to speak of. - so, the orcs become wild, and savage, and can stand toe to toe with the ogres on sheer strength relatively easily. the war with the ogres is long and bloody, however, and the land withering is easily hid beneath the destruction of war. the elements no longer respond to their shamans, but that doesn't matter- gul'dan has shown them a new way, under a new god, and this entity will give them all the power they need. - the frostwolves become the ashwolves when frostfire ridge erupts at multiple points, turning the land to well, ash. this happens when the elements reject them completely, and when the orcs' war w the ogres has disturbed the land to such a point that the elements can't take it anymore. so frostfire erupts, driving everyone off of it. the ridge is uninhabitable except for the most enduring creatures, and the warsong welcome their misplaced brethren with open arms. - even when they keep the ogres at bay, there are still enemies all around- the arakkoa theocracy, the bands of saberon running rampant, the pale ones lurking in every dark corner, and of course, the primals and breakers. - tanaan jungle withers at first, but new plantlife evolves to take the place of the old, and it's edible enough. the fauna evolves as well. life finds a way. - nagrand withers. talador withers. shadowmoon withers. the spires of arak remain unchanged. the flora and fauna were hardy enough already; a little fel corruption isn't enough to kill it. - gorgrond remains lush and natural, because the primals and breakers make it so. they drive out the orc clans there, and make it known that their presence is unwelcome. farahlon does the same. - the zangar sea drains, but only partly, leaving behind a poison swamp & lake. the region can be traversed, but it's difficult. - guldan has a nice little setup going on, as the head cleric of this new religion worshipping their new god (mannoroth), and has kept nerzhul around as something of a trophy. nerzhul is no threat to him, and guldan still has something of a fondness for his old teacher, even if it is beneath layers and layers of arrogance. sometimes, he even has something worthwhile to say. - there is something of a shadow council, but they've set themselves up as grand clerics. there is no secrecy to their rank, because there is no need. blackhand is still set up as warchief, and the orcs aren't technically bound to the council, but they might as well be. - there is something of a communion ritual after the initial blood-drinking, and guldan uses it as a means to keep the clans loyal, and obedient, even if they're not quite aware of it, themselves. guldan says they've learned to love their chains. nerzhul asks, have you? guldan bristles under the yoke kil'jaeden has put on him. - nerzhul has spent years wallowing without so much as a whisper from the elements or ancestors both, but also lulling guldan and the other clerics into a false sense of security. he plants the seed of ambition in guldan's head once again. you've worked so hard, he says, raising us up. giving us these gifts. shame that you're not given more credit for it. guldan laughs but he doesn't deny it. he knows nerzhul is trying to manipulate him. doesn't care, basks in the flattery. what harm could nerzhul do? - the blood has done so much for us, nerzhul says. I wonder what the flesh would do. - hm, guldan says. he goes quiet for a bit, and thinks. nerzhul knows he's got him. something worthwhile, indeed. - he brings the concept to the table of the council. there is much to discuss. - nerzhul isn't abused by the shadow council as he was in our timeline; with them having such a public presence, they can't. not so blatantly, anyway. so they say he's gone senile, they say he's gone mad with grief, and they're not wrong, in a way. the shadowmoon are more merciful than most, and they understand him, pity him, and the other clans shake their heads, but what the shadowmoon do is their business, they suppose. - then, shortly after he brings the idea to guldan: a flicker. a dream. a whisper. this is not the god of whom guldan speaks; this is something else. something darker. it calls to nerzhul, just as his misery has called to it, and bids him come. - nerzhul wanders into the ashen wastes, and everyone thinks him dead til he returns, months later, spending a short time with durotan and draka before leaving for the wastes again. he does this again and again until thrall is fourteen. - twenty years of war has nurtured a violent, militaristic culture among all the clans, and so has twenty years of ingesting the blood of a pit lord. orcs are red, or purple, or black. there is no green and no brown. there is very little, if any, sexual dimorphism. it's a gender-neutral meritocracy. merit is demonstrated through violence. - nerzhul still communicates frequently with durotan and draka, and their son, thrall. he's something of a grandfather to him, much to the chagrin of garrosh, son of grom and golka, and thrall's childhood friend and companion. garrosh thinks he's mad, and that thrall is a fool for admiring him so. they get into multiple fights over it, and everything else. the fights are encouraged when they become physical, but they remain friends, nontheless. their score is evenly split. both of them are born red. - the worst fight is when thrall goes away to train with nerzhul when he's fourteen, the night before he leaves. nerzhul wants to take thrall to what was once frostfire ridge and teach him what he knows of the elements, and of ashes. durotan and draka are wary, but agree to it, and drek'thar agrees to keep an eye on their son and nerzhul. garrosh throws a fucking fit over it. - garrosh and thrall are around the same age, garrosh maybe a few months younger, but he's already growing to be a pillar of strength in comparison to thrall. the blood has made him strong, and nutured his latent fury. thrall meanwhile has become clever and mean and underhanded when he fights. - garrosh wins the fight, but thrall still leaves, and still leaves garrosh battered and bloodied in turn. thrall can barely walk after that but he still finds the strength to leave him behind. thrall is indominable, even in defeat. - thrall does not return for five years. his family fears him lost. Garrosh grows up resenting him, and draka & durotan, but nerzhul, most of all, for taking thrall away from him. garrosh grows up full of hate and rage, and grows into himself. very few can compare to his might. - many things happen while thrall is away; in accepting the ashwolf into nagrand and embracing them as friends, the warsong & ashwolf together present a threat to blackhand's power as warchief. he already doesn't like the ashwolves for being unruly shits & their leaders challenging seemingly every decision he makes & the grand council makes, & that they do not embrace the communion of blood as they should, and the warsong he doesn't like for being just as unruly, esp since grom hellscream kicked things off by drinking the blood first. he also doesn't like that grom hellscream acted without permission and dragged the head cleric, guldan, to the quarantined red pox colony, in a desperate attempt to save his wife and the other weak & unworthy. so, durotan and draka sending off their only child into the ash wastes with nerzhul is the last straw. he's suspected nerzhul of treachery for a long time, and this seals it. - blackhand sets forth to put the ashwolf & warsong in their place. this opportunity arises when orgrim doomhammer, one of his generals and a man he sees as a son, offers to take garrosh and teach him proper strategy & combat, rather than just warsong guerilla warfare. orgrim had done this out of the goodness of his heart; draka & durotan have become very fond of garrosh, being that he's their son's closest companion, and seeing them so distraught over thrall's departure is troubling. so he had done this, to give him something to focus on, and perhaps as something to make amends between the blackrock and the warsong. - with garrosh in his custody, blackhand makes his move.

anyway that’s all I got for now wheezes

[amberesinite]

Zangar Sea --> Zangarmarsh

The Zangar Sea was a body of water full of colossal mushrooms and fungal monsters that separated Nagrand from Frostfire Ridge with marsh-like coasts on either side. The flora and fauna found within the sea was created from the rotting body of an ancient Sporemound, a plant-like beast slain by champion Grond of the titan Aggramar. Following the sundering of Draenor, the mushrooms slowly took over the coasts until Zangarmarsh was born. 

In contrast to most of Outland, Zangarmarsh has largely evaded all fel corruption and remains full of life, including Telredor, a Draenei settlement to the northeast of the region. Rumor has it that the Telredor monastery is centuries old and used to exist on a small island within the Zangar Sea. Whether is was lost to the invasion of the Iron Horde or simply became overtaken by the local flora, it now sits atop a giant mushroom.

[logicloup]

Draecember 3rd - Losing someone important (Tereshka)

Refugee camp, shore of the Zangar Sea

Tereshka crested the hill to find her father staring blankly over the moon-glow cast on the rolling waves. Hunched over his walking stick, shoulders stooped forward, he looked… old. Exhausted. Bro-

No. Not yet. Not him.

“Papa?” She shifted around to approach him from the side, giving him a chance to watch her approach.

He turned slowly, his gaze even slower in coming to focus. The fingers wrapped around the smooth, worn wood of his walking stick were thick and swollen. “Who comes…?”

“It’s me, Papa. Tereshka.” She took another step closer, within arm’s reach.

Silence descended as he uncurled thick, swollen fingers from his stick, and reached up — When did he get so short? — to cup an unsteady hand to her cheek. Finally, so painfully slowly, realization dawned, and a hoarse croak shattered the silence. “I need to go, Resh.”

“It’s alright.” She turned, offering her elbow. “I’ll help you back down the hill.”

Almost reluctantly, he wrapped his hand around hers, turning her back to face him. “And after that… I need to go.” Letting his stick drop to the ground, he held her hand between both of his. “We both know this change is… it isn’t going to stop. I’m going to… I won’t have you looking after what I become on the far side of this. If I’m to be remembered, let it be as a whole person, not-”

“You’re just giving up?” Tereshka’s eyes widened, her head shaking frantically. “No, I can heal you, I can, I know I can, just please, let me try again.” She raised her free hand, Light gleaming between her curled fingers as she offered it to her father.

He sighed, something like pity in his broad, flattened features. “We have tried. Since the signs first began.”

“And you were getting better!” she protested, Light flickering like a dying candle.

His gaze slid to her raised hand, and then his head bowed in resignation. “One last try. But then…”

One last try. Please… just for this one time and never again… Pleading for the Light to fill and empower her, she poured all that she had, all that she was given, into her father. The drained, hollow feeling of having given everything she could only deepened when she opened her eyes and saw that nothing had changed.

“But then, I will say my farewells.” Letting go of her hands, her wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “They will need you, my Tereshka. Be strong for them, but do not forget that you need someone to be strong for you. Find your someone, and when you have found them, hold them close.”

“Yes, Papa.” That was supposed to be you.

[warcraft-lore-archives]

WoW Cuisine Lore Facts

Disclaimer: All lore facts below are taken from World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook and Hearthstone: Innkeeper’s Tavern Cookbook. Although some of these lore tidbits are based on pre-existing canon lore, keep in mind that because the cookbooks are not necessarily canon, some lore facts cannot be considered established lore.

Human Cuisine

Seafood dishes, such as boiled clams and clam chowder, are typical Westfall cuisine [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 27, 95].

Sour goat cheese is one of Jaina Proudmoore’s favorite snacks [Ibid, pg. 49]. 

Soft banana bread comes from Scholomance [Ibid, pg. 87]. 

Westfall stew has been made many different ways over the years. At one point in the recent past, it was common to cook the stew using murloc eyes and buzzard meat as ingredients [Ibid, pg. 109].

Roasted quail is a much-loved meal in the southern Eastern Kingdoms. Ogres even enjoy this dish as a light snack [Ibid, pg. 135]. 

Night Elf Cuisine

Wild rice cakes, which come from northern Kalimdor, are cooked according to a traditional kaldorei recipe [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 61].

The recipe for the night elves’ signature bread, kaldorei pine nut bread, was passed down by their forebears. It is cooked using ingredients foraged from the forests of Kalimdor and shaped into a leaf to honor Teldrassil, the World Tree [Ibid, pg. 81].

Bean soup is a popular dish among the night elves of Kalimdor [Ibid, pg. 93].

Tyrande Whisperwind enjoys eating deep-fried plantains [Ibid, pg. 163].

Versicolor treats are made and sold only by the night elves of Kalimdor [Ibid, pg. 191].

Malfurion likes to snack on mashed potatoes [Hearthstone: Innkepeer’s Tavern Cookbook, pg. 71].

Pandaren & Mogu Cuisine

Spicy vegetable chips are a pandaren staple [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 55].

Stuffed lushrooms were once one of the mogu’s favorite dishes, but they have since become a staple in pandaren cuisine [Ibid, pg. 57]. 

Li Li Stormstout’s favorite snack is red bean buns [Ibid, pg. 85].

Lukewarm yak roast broth was previously enjoyed only by those who made it to the top of Kun-Lai Summit [Ibid, pg. 101].

The recipe for spiced blossom soup was found in an ancient cache in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms [Ibid, pg. 103].

Steaming goat noodles are considered Kun-Lai-style noodle soup [Ibid, pg. 107].

The ancient mogu used to favor mango ice for dessert [Ibid, pg. 175].

Pomfruit slices can only be found in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. Because they increase agility, pomfruit slices cause those who eat them to feel as light as a feather [Ibid, pg. 181].

Tauren Cuisine

Cornmeal biscuits are a staple food among the tauren tribes in Mulgore [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 69].

Tauren make jam [Ibid, pg. 83].

The tauren of Thunder Bluff make tauren tippler, a drink that’s a bit like eggnog, but lighter. Asking where the milk for the drink comes from is considered a great insult to the Bloodhoof tribe [Hearthstone: Innkeeper’s Tavern Cookbook, pg. 23].

Blood Elf Cuisine

Honey bread, which originates in high elven culture, is shaped to resemble the hives of domesticated bees in Eversong Forest [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 79].

A master chef tasked with feeding blood elf royalty on a budget came up with an alternative recipe to crunchy spider surprise that substitutes crabmeat for spider meat [Ibid, pg. 119].

Bloodberries from Quel’Danas are used to bake bloodberry tart [Ibid, pg. 149, Item: Bloodberry Tart].

Other

Abigail Shiel authored the recipe for crispy bat wings. Her Undercity snack has become a favorite among the Horde [World of Warcraft: The Official Cookbook, pg. 37].

The denizens of the Undercity enjoy snacking on honey-spiced lichen [Ibid, pg. 43].

Sliced zangar buttons are traditionally cooked using thin shavings from Zangarmarsh’s enormous fungi, but the recipe has been adapted to accommodate more common (and smaller) varieties of mushroom [Ibid, pg. 47].

Spiced beef jerky is the Darkmoon Faire-goer’s snack of choice [Ibid, pg. 53].

Sweet potato bread is a Northrend staple [Ibid, pg. 89].

The recipe for dragonbreath chili originates in Dustwallow Marsh [Ibid, pg. 97].

Ironforge rations have been a dwarven staple for over a thousand years [Ibid, pg. 131, Item: Ironforge Rations].

Magic users particularly enjoy eating tender shoveltusk steak because they claim it gives them a little edge in casting their spells [Ibid, pg. 143].

The goblins of Bilgewater Cartel took the recipe for goblin shortbread from Kezan with them on their journey to Kalimdor [Ibid, pg. 171].

Pirates drink Garr’s limeade to prevent scurvy on the high seas [Ibid, pg. 197, Item: Garr’s Limeade].

Honeymint tea is a popular drink in the cold weather of Northrend [Ibid, pg. 201].

Pizza is tortollan cuisine [Hearthstone: Innkeeper’s Tavern Cookbook, pg. 77].

[serve-the-legion]

Gul’dan’s Timeline (changes n’ revisions)

So with the release of World of Warcraft: Chronicle Volume II we’ve got a slew of new information about the golden child himself, Danny G. Combing these new findings with my previous headcanons, here are some quick takeaways. 

- Gul’dan’s clan of birth was NOT Shadowmoon. That being said it was a clan which was descended from a group of Shadowmoon orcs who broke away from the main clan many years before. For that reason the culture of the Gul’dan’s clan was incredibly close to the Shadowmoon. The members of this clan were practically identical in appearance to most Shadowmoon orcs as well. 

- The village of Gul’dan’s birth was located in the southernmost region of Shadowmoon Valley, tucked away in a flat patch of land flanked by canyons and hills. This village rested a good ways into a region simply know as ‘The Wastes’. The Wastes streached through the northwestern region of Talador and spilled into a dried up portion of the Zangar Sea (Gul'dan walked across this dried up portion to get to the Throne of the Elements in Nagrand).

- When Gul’dan says no one will ever know about the village of his birth - he means it. They were incredibly cut off from the rest of Draenor thanks to them living in the wastes. Nobody noticed they were wiped from the face of the world. 

- At the time of Harbingers, Gul’dan was 27.

- Gul’dan knew Kil’jaeden by only his voice for years. While the general intentions of the Eredar Lord were gathered by Gul’dan, the warlock didn’t even know his master’s true name or form for years, only knowing this voice in his head as ‘The Beautiful One’. 

- At around the age of 40, Gul’dan finally had a greater vision for his destiny presented by Kil’jaeden. The demon lord revealed himself to Gul’dan by his true name at last and Gul’dan even saw his master’s true form twisting within his mind’s eye. This reveal happened as Kil’jaeden commanded Gul’dan to infiltrate the Shadowmoon clan and ‘serve’ as Ner’zhul’s apprentice. Kil’jaeden assured Gul’dan that he would be excepted with open arms on account the demon lord had ‘sway’ over the Elder Shaman.

- At the time Gul’dan left to infiltrate the Shadowmoon clan, his OWN clan (a nameless one at that) was comprised of around 40 individuals including himself. They were commanded to hide away by Gul’dan until ‘the time was deemed right by Kil’jaeden’. Teron’gor was entrusted with leadership of the clan while Gul’dan sowed the seeds to usurp Ner’zhul. 

- Gul’dan shared romantic relations with one person in his life; Czak’ra, a disciple and the second to follow him after Teron’gor. More than anything this was built on lust and the two were (as most warlocks) truly terrible people who would stab each other in the back if they had to. These romantic relations fizzled out a short time before Gul’dan left to infiltrate the Shadowmoon clan. 

- Ner’zhul was only about 5 years older than Gul’dan. 

- During Gul’dan’s time under Ner’zhul, Teron’gor recklessly reached out multiple times to Gul’dan. Darkness Incarnate’s chief lieutenant grew anxious over his master’s years as a sleeper agent of sorts. Teron’gor URGED Gul’dan to simply murder Ner’zhul, confidant in the Fel’s ability to cease control of the clans by force. Gul’dan never went through with it, trusting Kil’jaeden’s grand design.

- Gul’dan’s betrayal of Ner’zhul was only a betrayal of the Elder Shaman’s trust. If anything it was elaborate espionage. 

- After usurping Ner’zhul, Gul’dan called his disciples to Shadowmoon Valley and dubbed them The Shadow Council. 

- In the time which followed Ner’zhul being dethroned, Gul’dan and his Shadow Council practiced their Fel magics without restraint. This accelerated the mutations which Fel had already been subjugating them to. The spikes which had slowly been growing from Gul’dan’s back for years (a mutation he hid from Ner’zhul through assuming the hunched form of a cripple) BURST from his back and grew at 10 times the speed as before. His eyes ignited to a red glow during this time. 

- Though the Shadow Council practiced Fel heavily, their skin did not turn green until drinking demon blood. 

- Gul’dan’s eyes ignited to glow a Fel green some time after drinking demon blood, an effect thanks to the immense power he had flowing through him at the time. 

- Gul’dan was slammed into a coma by a magical rebound during The Sacking of Stormwind at the end of the First War. It is during this time that Doomhammer ceased control of the Horde, slaying most of the Shadow Council.

- Doomhammer personally killed Teron’gor. 

- Czak’ra and Garona were two of the only ‘orcs’ from the Shadow Council to survive Doomhammer’s purge. How Czak’ra was spared or eluded death is a topic that’s details are foggy at best. Some say she ratted out other members of the Shadow Council to save her own skin, while others swear her wit and deception saved her from being found out. The former of the two is probably what happened though, on account Garona willingly told Doomhammer of the Shadow Council. Chances are she mentioned Czak’ra, then Czak’ra gave enough information or groveling to remain alive.  

[crazyprophet-box-o-plots]

Times Change - Chapter 5

Hope and Despair

The Black Temple had been reclaimed by the Broken, with the assistance of their new allies - the blood elves and naga known as Illidari. Lord Illidan had promised that the sacred temple would be returned to the Draenei, under the stewardship of Akama. The Broken were elated! After decades of war, there was finally a piece of hope - a small glimmer of Light in the darkness. Their most sacred city had been reclaimed! It seemed the first step to a greater dream! This would represent the restoration of Draenei civilisation; their return to power in the world named for their colonisation. It also gave them a safe base from where to start anew! A palatial, easily defended fortress, where the Draenei could finally find safe haven after so many years. The Broken Draenei were collectively happy and hopeful for the first time in years, and they dreamed big! Perhaps the other Draenei would flock to their cause, and help them restore Karabor! Rumour had it that the Prophet was planning something, out in the marshes formally swallowed by the Zangar Sea. Perhaps Karabor could give him a refuge! Perhaps it would show their uncorrupted brethren that they still fought for the Light! Perhaps Velen would come and restore the temple, causing it to be a place of Light once more, a beautiful, sparkling monument to Draenei faith and power, rather than a corrupted den of evil.

Eagerly the Draenei anticipated the changeover of power. Eagerly they watched and waited, desperate to purify the temple once again.

But then, days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months... turned to years. And Lord Illidan made no effort to give the temple to the Draenei. In fact, he acted entirely contrary to his promise. Whether officially or not, the Draenei became the lowest caste of his burgeoning society. The Blood Elves and Naga were treated like heroes, whereas the Broken began to be treated like slaves. Lord Illidan forced them to work on all manner of menial projects, all over Draenor. To add insult to injury, they often had to work alongside, if not under the command of, Kargath Bladefist’s Fel Horde, which had sworn to serve Lord Illidan. Working alongside the orcs that had been responsible for so many deaths seemed like a slap in the face to Karaaldos, and for some time he bore it in the hope that Illidan would vacate the temple and leave it in Akama’s hands. But over time, it became more and more clear that Illidan did not have the Broken’s best interests at heart. Rumour even had it that he had even communed directly with Kil’jaeden - the arch-enemy of the Draenei people. Perhaps Lord Illidan was as bad a demon as Magtheridon, who had deceived the Krokul in an effort to cause them further pain. Day by day, the conquest of Karabor felt like less of a heroic victory, and more of a crushing defeat.

The dream of Karabor’s restoration drifted ever further away as well, because instead of purifying the temple, Illidan seemed to be adding to it. He had, for a time, left Outland and fought some great evil on another world, and not much changed. But upon his return he seemed to obsess about defeating the Legion, about defending himself against its armies. He conquered most of what was left of the world and proclaimed himself Lord of Outland. From his seat of power at the Black Temple, he recruited all manner of dark and evil creatures, from fel orcs to demons and beyond. To make matters even worse was the... other. The unknown. Lord Illidan’s special project.

Lord Illidan had sent out some manner of call. He began selecting certain individuals from Kael’thas’ blood elf forces, and isolating them in a particular part of the temple. Before long, others began to make their way to Lord Illidan. These creatures appeared to be elves as well, but they were taller and purple-skinned, more closely resembling Lord Illidan himself. Perhaps they were his own species. In any case, more and more of these elves were recruited and hidden away - and Akama’s Broken were tasked with keeping them healthy. As a former Anchorite and competent healer, Karaaldos had been assigned to the post. He watched the transformation of the elves. Watched their combat skills grow, and watched in horror as they were forced to eat the hearts of demons, and gouge out their own eyes with a knife. He tended to their wounds each day with disgust, as he observed more and more new demonic tattoos on their bodies, and as he watched their skin harden, their eye sockets glow with green energy, their foreheads split and give way to unnatural horns, a sick replica of their master’s. They even began to sprout wings, in some cases. It didn’t take long to realise what Illidan was making, and when he saw how the army of Illidan’s was formed, he was disgusted. The Demon Hunters of the Illidari would be a force to be reckoned with, and were an abomination unlike anything Karaaldos had seen before.

For many Draenei, Karaaldos included, the demon hunters were the final straw. They knew that Illidan had to be dethroned from his seat of power, just as Magtheridon had been. Akama had been secretly plotting with an old enemy of Illidan’s; the uncorrupted night elf named Maiev Shadowsong. She and her small force, supplmented by a small faction of her own Broken, had been working with Akama to defeat Lord Illidan. Maiev, unlike Illidan, had no interest in the Temple at all. She wanted vengeance - to capture the man who had apparently been her prisoner. The Draenei could have Karabor as far as she was concerned, but Illidan himself would be her prize. The bargain was struck, and the planning began. After a time, Akama began to seem less enthused, or at least worried. He was taking a dangerous step for his people. But in the end, his resolve seemed to win out, and a plan was concoted.

Taking the Black Temple would be a near-impossible task. It was a strong, defensible citadel. Short of opening a breach somewhere, the great walls and gates could hold off an army ten times the size of the one garrisoned within. But an opportunity had arisen whereby Illidan was going to leave the temple for the Hand of Gul’dan, and conduct a ritual to summon a portal for some mysterious mission or another. He would be accompanied by a guard of naga, elves, and even fel orcs, but... he would be out in the open, and Akama had said his guard would be small, to ensure maximum secrecy. This was the one chance that the Broken had of fighting Illidan on their own terms, and Maiev’s forces were more than happy to join in. The board was set, and the assault was to begin.

________________________________________________________________

Karaaldos marched alongside his friend Gorabon, the former Rangari, as they approached the Hand of Gul’dan - the dark, unnatural volcano that dominated the once-beautiful landscape of Shadowmoon Valley. Behind them was a small support force, comprised of 20 former Rangari, 5 shadow priests, and 5 shaman. The former Prelate Karaaldos was now an Elder Sage of the Ashtongue, and Gorabon was his second-in-command. They marched as stealthily as possible from the west, alongside the rest of the ragtag army assembled by Akama and Maiev, who led the force from the front. Karaaldos glanced up at the volcano, an eternal reminder of all his people had lost, shooting green fel fire into the air, and causing the earth to shake. He grimaced.

Gorabon looked at him, and put a hand on his shoulder as they walked. “You seem troubled, Elder Sage. What is on your mind?”

“If we lose today, Gorabon, we’ve lost everything.” Karaaldos replied, his voice kept quiet so that nobody other than Gorabon could hear him.

“We’ve already lost everything, my old friend.” Gorabon said, looking him in the eye. “This may be our only chance to begin our restoration. It may take the rest of our lives, but I know this for certain. It all starts... or ends... here. Illidan is open. We can win this.”

Karaaldos nodded, and looked at Akama in the distance. “You are right, Gorabon. I’m sorry. For so long we have had nothing but despair. This victory could change... everything.” He tried to smile at Gorabon, but then looked at Akama again. He seemed to be devoid of energy, tired and dejected. Something about it didn’t seem right. That was not the Akama that Karaaldos remembered, but their experiences had changed them all. He frowned, and then continued to march onwards.

As they approached the Hand itself, the traditional marching was replaced by stealth. Small groups moving from rock to rock, step by step, gradually edging into position to surround the ritual location. Before long they had a view of what they would face. A number of ritual circles were formed, and manned by thirteen summoners each. They chanted and gestured, and Karaaldos could feel the fel energy in the air. Something was about to happen. He looked around and saw that there were robed Illidari scattered throughout the site, but there were more summoners than these mysterious bodyguards. Lord Illidan himself stood in the centre, arrogantly giving orders and overseeing proceedings. Karaaldos knew this was it. He knew the time had come. He nodded at Gorabon and his forces, who nodded silently in return. Each one of them was determined, and ready to fight to the bitter end. In the distance, Maiev raised her armoured hand and gave the signal to attack! They fell upon the Illidari forces quickly, and Illidan did not even seem to immediately notice them. Karaaldos tried to attack the minds of some summoners, but found them too focused... which was a good thing. He grinned. If they did not notice his mental attack, then they would barely notice the mundane. He gave the order and arrows flew, taking down a number of summoners while the main force did the same with swords, axes and glaives.

Maiev’s force in particular fought with incredible ability, and moved at an astonishing rate, seeming to not even need to stop as they ran towards Illidan, cutting down all those who got in their way! Karaaldos couldn’t believe it! They were actually going to win!

Then, Lord Illidan’s head turned towards the force. Illidan looked directly at Maiev, and raised his warglaives above his head.

A magical signal blazed.

And chaos ensued.

All around them, magical portals began to open up. Reality was torn asunder and hundreds upon hundreds of naga and fel orcs raced out of the portal, fully armed and ready for battle. Leading them was a creature that Karaaldos remembered from his first encounter with the Illidari. Lady Vashj. She shot cold arrows in all directions, freezing various soldiers in their place! She shot with alarming speed and accuracy, and one by one more and more soldiers fell to her. The tables had turned!

Karaaldos’ heart fell.

He looked around him, looked back at his force, at the determined Gorabon, at the terrified people in his service. It was a trap. It was always a trap. Somehow, Illidan knew.

He was dimly aware of Maiev shouting orders to her soldiers. But he could see the battle was lost.

His soldiers fought off a fel-orc onslaught, being forced to retreat as the red creatures charged at them, evil grins on their faces! Karaaldos’ force held their own with magical and mundane might, but slowly many of his forces began to fall. Some were dead, some wounded, and some dying. About a quarter of his force remained standing, and he snarled, breaking the minds of fel orcs and using all his energy to stay standing! Gorabon stood next to him, fighting now with a broken axe handle, and giving the battle everything he had.

Then, time seemed to stand still as Lord Illidan took off, and hovered above them in the air, his great wings spread! He laughed a sick, twisted laugh. The eerie laugh of an evil being completely victorious! As if by silent command, the remaining summoners returned to their ritual. Black spheres swirled above the battlefield. Long tentacles of darkness reached out... and touched the wounded and the dying, including those in Karaaldos’ force. When they touched, the living victims screamed and aged years in seconds, as if their very life was being drawn out of them. Black sparks shot out of their bodies and were pulled into the black spheres.

Karaaldos screamed in a way that must have sounded similar to that of the victims; a scream of total horror and despair. He couldn’t believe it! Souls! The souls of the dead were sacred to the Draenei, and now Illidan denied his former allies even the peace of death! The essences of their being were ripped from their bodies to be used as fuel for some ritual. Karaaldos was sick to his stomach, and blinded to all reason. The last moment of hope for the Broken had become a moment of utter despair.

The rest of the ritual passed Karaaldos by, being to horrifying for his brain to comprehend. But he dimly remembered the spheres growing bigger, and combining to form a great portal. He vaguely remembered Akama screaming that this hadn’t been the plan, and he remembered the fighting continuing, though he himself was too paralyzed by the evil, soul sucking ritual for which his beloved people had been fuel. And then he remembered the demon hunters, charging out of portals from the Black Temple, and making their way towards the larger portal, summoned at the price of his people’s very being.

When next he became fully aware, he was bound at the feet of some naga, who oversaw him, Gorabon, and their few remaining soldiers. They looked disdainfully at Karaaldos, and their commander, a sea witch of some kind, hissed. “Look, the Broken has finally stopped crying...” She rasped an otherworldly laugh, and the other naga joined in. But Karaaldos’ attention was piqued by something else. Illidan and the demon hunters were returning through the portal. Whatever they had done... it seemed to have been successful, although their numbers were somewhat reduced. The portal closed behind them. The Illidari forces guarding the captives all fell silent and turned as Illidan rose, and began to speak, his voice carrying across the plain.

“Today, we have struck a blow against the Burning Legion the like of which has not been felt in ten thousand years. We have slaughtered dreadlords and ravaged their world. We have shown them that they are not immune to our vengeance. That they will be brought to justice and made to atone for their deeds.”

The demon hunters smiled, and exuded approval! Karaaldos could feel their collective thoughts plainly, and saw images of what they had achieved. A Legion world. Dreadlords. Archives. Some sort of attack... that left Dreadlords permanenetly dead? The thoughts flew at him, and his jaw dropped. He needed to learn more of this. Had the Illidari truly dealt such a blow to the Legion? He listened intently to Illidan as he continued.

“We have slain thousands and lured their armies into a trap that killed a hundred times that number, and we have this!” Illidan brandished a large, green-runed disk. Its power was clear, and Karaaldos sensed it had something to do with the archives he received images of from the triumphant minds of the demon hunters.

Illidan continued triumphantly. “We have found the key to the homeworld of Kil’jaeden and Archimonde, to a place where the Legion’s commanders can finally be slain. We have uncovered the location of Argus!”

Karaaldos gasped audibly, bringing some looks from those near him. Gorabon’s eyebrows shot up, and the Broken near them looked awed. Murmurs began to break out among the nearby broken, and all over the area. “Could it be true?” “After all this time?” “They can be defeated?” “Is Illidan the answer after all?”

Illidan was not phased by any reactions, and continued. “The Legion has destroyed world after world, enslaved and massacred nation after nation. Now it will reap what it has sown. Today we have slaughtered the Nathrezim, and that is only the first step. Today, we put our feet on the path to ultimate victory! Today we found the means to cut off the head that guides our foe. We are taking the war to Kil’jaeden! We are going to teach him the meaning of defeat!”

Illidan concluded his speech and moved on, and the cheers of the demon hunters echoed across the valley. Karaaldos simply watched in astonishment. The day had been a day of failure, a day of despair. And yet....

It brought with it the message of a world of demons defeated. Of a way back to Argus. Of a solution to Kil’jaeden’s relentless genocide of the Draenei people. For all Illidan had done, Kil’jaeden and his puppet Gul’dan had done so much more evil to the Draenei. Perhaps Kil’jaeden could be defeated after all?

Karaaldos felt despair. Overwhelming despair and horror at what he had just been forced to watch. What he had seen, and what he had unwittingly led some of his people into. And yet... there was a glimmer of hope. A hope that came at a terrible price.

Karaaldos knew what had to be done. He knew the price was high. He would make a deal with a lesser evil, to combat a greater one.

With fear and sinking dread in his heart, Karaaldos watched the demon hunters, and then closed his eyes.

For too long his people had been forced to run from the Legion. These were going to face them in combat. Karaaldos had no delusions of reclaiming Argus, but a strike force designed to kill Kil’jaeden? If that could be achieved... at the very least his people would not be specifically targeted by the Legion.

A noble purpose stood before him. The salvation of his people...

He knew it could be done, but it would come at the cost of his own soul, and likely the souls of many others as well. He knew that he could not truly serve the Illidari without tacitly condoning such evil heresy.

A tear slid down Karaaldos’ face as his feelings clashed and warred against each other. He kept his eyes screwed shut, trying to deal with what he was feeling.

Hope and despair.

__________________________________________

Credit for all Illidan dialogue and many of the descriptions in this story goes to Blizzard and William King, for the novel; Illidan. You can find the story in which Karaaldos was just a piece, in chapters 16 through to 19. I do not claim ownership of these characters, I merely write my own character’s role to play in this universe. :)

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