Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
Man, I remember thinking that for fucking sure after Garrosh the Horde will sit tight on their asses and the next big bad will be from the Alliance. How naive I was.
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(Twi)Light Dragon (Warcraft/WoW)
Man, I remember thinking that for fucking sure after Garrosh the Horde will sit tight on their asses and the next big bad will be from the Alliance. How naive I was.
- Location
- Omniverse #1345
It's such a waste, too. They could have had the same basic plotline, but had the horde in a civil war over Sylvanas's actions, and the focus be on the character resisting the insane genocide.
The Alliance aren't allowed to be the bad guys. This means the Horde will always be the bad guys. And Blizzard long ran out of compelling reasons for them to be the bad guys, so they just aren't even trying.
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Blackout
Fed By Comments
- Location
- Who knows?
The problem is that they did that already in Mists of Pandaria, and having the whole expansion experience for the Horde be the civil war would be tough to implement ingame.
Just don't have the Horde start a war of aggression, so there's an actual reason why people follow Sylvanas instead of immediately deposing her as second Garrosh. It doesn't have to be the Alliance starting it, it can be neutral or affiliated nations sparking the war like has happened many times irl.
Kul Tiras, still vengeful after Daelin's death, launches an attack against the Horde again. There's precedent for that, just look at Tiragarde Keep. The Horde rallies under the flag and beats off the invasion, at which point Sylvanas can ride a wave of "We won't let there be a third time" popular sentiment to launch an invasion of Kul Tiras and commit some warcrimes.
Now, Kul Tiras might have left the Alliance, but they still have close ties to the other human kingdoms, and in particular Jaina would be raising all kinds of hell to get them to intervene. Anduin and Velen can advocate for peace but still be overruled by the other Alliance leaders because the Alliance is, y'know, an Alliance and not a dictatorship led by a Blue Warchief. Tyrande in particular has never been a proponent for peace, and the Night Elves march on Durotar while the Horde's main forces are deployed in Kul Tiras. And that's when Sylvanas starts dropping Azerite bombs.
Or, y'know, don't have a faction war expansion at all, nobody held a gun to Blizzard's head. Just fully commit to the naval theme, with Azshara and the Naga making big plays so Horde and the Alliance turn to the Zandalari and Kul Tiras in an attempt to get them and their massive navies on side. You can still have some faction conflict if you really want to have the Battle of Dazar'alor, maybe Genn has another paranoid fit, or turn Mechagon into a raid, or expand Crucible of Storms into a proper raid tier, or do the Liberation of Undermine, or expand one of the Kul Tiras dungeons like Shrine of the Storm, Waycrest Manor, Freehold or Siege of Boralus into a raid to complement Uldir clearly being a Zandalari raid. Then put Nazjatar as the final raid tier, with the same outcome of Azshara being defeated but releasing N'zoth, and then lead into a full expansion focused on dealing with Old God stuff.
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- Location
- Australia
Nice to see an update! Nzaria's mental gymnastics is quite amusing. I'm curious what'll happen when she loses those voices influencing her. Her ending up good, while being evil under the justification of "fuck those guys in particular." Especially if she somehow makes genuine friends along the way.
Also, totally agree, story telling in WoW fell off hard after WotLK. With the occasional bright spot… the Sylvanas plot line and the treatment of the Nelfs however was a black spot on par with TON 618. Way to destroy a character Blizzard.
Also, totally agree, story telling in WoW fell off hard after WotLK. With the occasional bright spot… the Sylvanas plot line and the treatment of the Nelfs however was a black spot on par with TON 618. Way to destroy a character Blizzard.
- Location
- Elsewhere
The faction wars are just a reflection of Blizzard office politics.
The only thing they can agree on is fighting so...
Vozen
Magic Adventure Cat
- Location
- Seattle
I like to pretend a large chunk of BfA and ALL of Shadowlands were a N'Zoth induced hallucination and just go right to Dragonflight from Legion with one quick aside about Anduin being broken by N'Zoth for a while and that old god the getting it's teeth kicked in by the Players.
It makes the whole story run so SO much smoother...
It makes the whole story run so SO much smoother...
- Location
- In a Fantasy
I still have no idea how Tyrande and Malfurion are still the NE leaders , they are so bad at their jobs. Tyrande litterally killed Maiev yuri jail guards to free Ilidan while realeasing other criminals to help her kill the guards. And after that they give him forces to do whtaever he wants without any oversights.
After that predictebly went terribly they let him leave without any problem just cause he helped save Tyrande.....
No wonder Maiev was hoping that Tyrande died from the bridge.
After that predictebly went terribly they let him leave without any problem just cause he helped save Tyrande.....
No wonder Maiev was hoping that Tyrande died from the bridge.
Chapter 8
New
Blackout
Fed By Comments
- Location
- Who knows?
Stormwind Harbour was much the same as Nzaria had left it, the salty tang of the sea hanging thick in the air, mingling with the rhythmic crash of waves against the wooden piers and the ever-present din of the bustling harbor. The midday sun cast long shadows across the docks, where lines of hopeful recruits stretched toward the makeshift wooden booths set up along the waterfront. Officers, clerks, and hardened veterans manned the desks, their faces worn with exhaustion as they processed the endless flow of soldiers, mercenaries, and adventurers eager to enlist in the war effort.
Nzaria stood at the front of one such line, her gauntleted hands planted firmly on the wooden counter, fingers subtly curling into the wood. Behind her, Thoradin loomed with crossed arms, his thick brows drawn low over his stormy eyes, the beads in his braids clicking faintly as he shifted his stance. Koltus stood a few meters away, back in his human form with an annoying smirk plastered across his face, while Lanya leaned against a nearby lamp post.
The recruitment officer, a wiry human man with ink-stained fingers and the beginnings of a receding hairline, cleared his throat. "Look, I understand you're eager to get into the fight, but we don't just send anyone to Highbank. It's a strategic warfront. Only seasoned fighters with a proven record-"
Nzaria's fingers dug a little deeper into the wood. "I have a proven record," she growled, her tail lashing behind her. "The letter from Redmane Hold-"
"Yes, yes, I see it," the officer interrupted, adjusting his glasses as he flipped through the parchment. "Baruk Redmane… I suppose it must be a respectable name among the dwarves, but-"
Thoradin let out a sharp huff of disbelief. "Respectable?" His voice, already gravelly, turned downright thunderous. "Baruk Redmane is a damned hero of the Alliance, veteran of the First, Second and Third Wars. He sits on the Council of Clans in Ironforge, and his advice was valued by King Magni Bronzebeard. And his word and seal isn't enough for you?"
The officer flinched at the volume but held firm, adjusting the stack of papers on his desk. "None of that makes him part of the Alliance High Command." He gave a tired sigh and glanced back up at them. "Look, I don't doubt you're all capable. But I need to send up these recommendations to my superiors, and your story needs to be verified. That takes time, especially with Ironforge in chaos. The letter alone isn't enough to-"
Nzaria's patience snapped.
"Twilight's Hammer is claiming ground by the day, and you want to push papers around until Deathwing comes back and finishes the city off for good measure?" Nzaria snarled, her fist leaving a dent on the wooden table, a few splinters standing up.
Koltus chuckled, tilting his head toward Thoradin. "You know, for a paladin, she's got a lot of pent-up aggression."
Nzaria ignored him, her glowing violet eyes drilling into the recruitment officer. "Let me make this simple," she continued, voice low, measured. "I've killed more Twilight's Hammer cultists than everyone else on this beach combined. I know how they work, I know how to fight them. You need me in the Highlands. So send me there."
The officer, to his credit, didn't wilt under her glare, but he looked increasingly uncomfortable. "That's not how the chain of command works, ma'am," he explained with increasing frustration. "If I let you through, and you mess something up, and they find out that I didn't follow protocol, it'll be my head on the chopping block right next to you."
Nzaria snarled, her gauntleted fists opening and closing, the violet glare of her eye illuminating the officer's face.
In her mind's eye she saw herself reach out, grabbing the human's head and slamming his head onto his desk so hard it would burst like an overripe fruit.
'Temper yourself. Wanton murder achieves nothing.'
"Truly, what are the rest of us even doing here, because we've found the bravest officer in the Alliance right here," Koltus snarked. "Fighting Deathwing, that's the easy stuff, Stormwind's most courageous sons are needed back home to defend the bureaucracy from angry eight-foot tall paladins from another planet."
"Look," the officer said, massaging his temples with one hand. "I can't help you. I'll get this sent to my superiors, but in the meanwhile, you'll just have to wait. The word of this 'Baruk Redmane', whoever he is, isn't enough for me to-"
A quiet voice interrupted him.
"Then what about Lanya Dawnchaser? Is that a name that speaks anything to you, officer?"
The shift was instant.
The recruiter's entire demeanor changed. His face drained of color, his back straightened, and his hands- just moments ago so casually flipping through papers -suddenly stilled.
Nzaria turned, her own brow furrowing as she followed his gaze.
Lanya had stepped forward, her posture relaxed, her expression unreadable. The midday sun caught the red markings painted across her face, the feathered mantle draped over her shoulders shifting slightly in the breeze.
The recruiter's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching toward his paperwork as if scrambling to find something to justify his existence.
"I-" He coughed, clearing his throat, flipping rapidly through his forms as though they might somehow save him. "I-uh,I beg your pardon, ma'am?"
Lanya's expression didn't change, her voice perfectly calm as she spoke. "They are with me."
The recruiter's eyes flicked between her and Nzaria, his jaw tightening, his breaths coming slightly faster.
Nzaria arched a brow, watching him with growing curiosity.
"Uh-" He cleared his throat again. "Y-you know, actually, I think there is some flexibility in the requirements. And given, uh, certain endorsements-" He coughed. "I can, uh- expedite your deployment. Yes. Yes, I can do that."
"Good. Do it."
The recruiter nodded so fast it was a wonder his head didn't fly off. "It-it is an honour, Ma'am! My brother was on the Skybreaker, he said-"
"Just get on with it," Lanya said, her expression unwavering. "Please."
Nzaria raised an eyebrow at the night elf, as the officer started furiously writing, but she ignored her entirely.
-----
The Wavecutter was a sturdy vessel, built for war rather than comfort. Her hull was thick, reinforced with iron plates along the bow, her sails heavy with deep blue canvas emblazoned with the golden lion of Stormwind. She cut through the waves with practiced ease, yet no amount of craftsmanship could fully tame the churning sea. The sky overhead was slate-gray, heavy with storm clouds, and the wind carried a salty sting, the tang of approaching rain thick in the air.
Nzaria stood near the ship's bow, gripping the railing hard enough to make the damp wood creak beneath her gauntleted fingers. The constant, unpredictable motion of the ship unsettled her in ways she hadn't expected. It wasn't seasickness- her stomach was fine -but she hated the lack of control.
Flying was different. When she flew, she moved herself, adjusting her wings, shifting with the
air currents, dictating her own motion. But this? This was something else entirely.
'Dragons were not meant for the sea.'
'Of course not. You are meant for the sky.'
Her claws itched. Her wings- her real wings -longed to stretch, to catch the air, to leave this wooden prison behind and soar. The only thing stopping her was the need to blend in, to maintain the lie.
She braced herself as the ship lurched again, her hooves planted firmly against the deck. No amount of preparation could counteract the sheer unpredictability of the ocean. It was like a living thing, tugging her forward one moment, dragging her back the next, shifting beneath her feet with a mind of its own.
She hated it.
A miserable groan interrupted her thoughts.
Thoradin slumped against a crate a few feet away, his normally ruddy complexion tinged an unhealthy shade of green. His braids, usually so neatly kept, were a tangled mess from hours of suffering, and his thick arms rested limply against his knees as he leaned forward, eyes squeezed shut in pure misery.
Nzaria regarded him with something between amusement and mild disdain.
"I thought dwarves were supposed to be sturdy," she said.
Thoradin cracked one eye open just enough to glare at her. "Ye can't punch the sea, lass," he rasped, then immediately turned and retched over the side of the ship.
Nzaria wrinkled her nose. "Charming."
Thoradin groaned again, wiping his mouth with the back of his gauntlet. "It's no' my fault," he grumbled. "We were meant for the mountains, not this cursed, ever-shiftin' mess o' water." He shifted slightly, wincing as the ship rocked again. "If the Titans wanted dwarves on the sea, we'd have been born with flippers an' gills."
Nzaria rolled her shoulders, steadying herself against another sudden pitch of the ship. "Can't you do something about it?" she asked. "You're a shaman, aren't you? Can't you just tell the wind and water to behave?"
Thoradin let out something that was halfway between a laugh and a pained wheeze. "Aye, lass, an' maybe ye should just tell the Light to strike Deathwing down where he stands."
Nzaria frowned. It wasn't the answer she had expected.
"We don't give the Elements orders," he continued, grimacing. "We ask, we bargain, we listen- but they've got their own wills, their own tempers. And right now?" He cast a hand toward the storm-churned sea. "The Wind isn't listenin'."
'Foolish.'
'Weak. You do not ask. You command.'
Nzaria pushed the thoughts away, her expression hardening. "Why not?"
Thoradin sighed, rubbing his temple. "Because Al'Akir, the Windlord himself, threw in his lot with Deathwing," he muttered bitterly. "Him an' his storm-whelps turned their backs on Azeroth, an' now most wind elementals've followed suit."
"You won't give orders even to elementals that are working for the Twilight's Hammer?"
Thoradin's entire demeanor shifted. His usual gruff irritation darkened into something heavier, his fingers curling into fists against his knees. His voice, when it came, was low and cold.
"Aye, I suppose slavery's all grand an' proper so long as ye're only doin' it to yer enemies, eh? Let me tell ye somethin', lass- ye start forcin' the Elements when they don't agree with ye, an' soon enough none of 'em are going to be willing ta work with ye."
'Careful! Do not push him too far.'
Nzaria held his gaze, her expression blank.
"The Twilight's Hammer seems to manage pretty successfully," she said carefully.
"You said you've been fightin' the Hammer fer a long time," Thoradin went on, his tone rough with something deeper than mere nausea. "So I'll forgive yer ignorance, this once. But never, ever say those words ta me again."
Silence hung between them, save for the crashing waves.
Nzaria studied him for a moment longer, then finally tilted her head. "Alright," she said, her voice even. "Then explain it to me."
Thoradin was silent for a long moment, as if weighing whether it was worth the effort. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke.
"Aye, I'll grant ye, Dark Shamanism is faster, easier, more convenient. Ye don't have to build trust, don't have to ask, don't have to pay anything back. But it ain't stronger." He tapped his chest. "A True Shaman adds to the Elements, lass. Stands with 'em, not against 'em. Ye think ye can force fire to burn hotter? Crush the earth into shape? Aye, maybe ye can. But ye can do so much more if they want to help ye."
Still, she tilted her head. "That doesn't explain you, though."
Thoradin frowned at her.
She gestured at him with one gauntleted hand. "Surely not all Air Elementals bow to the Windlord without question? You're right, I don't know a lot of Shamans, but I think I would have heard about it if all of them stopped being able to call on the Wind."
Thoradin's scowl deepened. He leaned back against the crate, sighing heavily. "Never had much love for the Wind, even before the turn," he admitted. "An' the feelin's mutual. Fire an' Earth, the heat o' the forge and the strength o' the mountains, those are easy to find common ground with. Honest, solid elements."
Nzaria arched a brow. "Honest? The same fire that burns everything in its path?"
Thoradin smirked weakly. "Aye. Because ye know it'll burn. It doesn't lie to ye. If ye don't respect it, it'll eat ye alive. Simple." He tapped a finger against the wooden railing. "Earth's the same. It doesn't play games. If ye can stand firm, it'll stand with ye. But Wind?" His expression darkened, his grip tightening again. "Wind is treacherous."
Nzaria's gaze flicked to the storm-wracked sky. "How so?"
Thoradin exhaled through his nose. "It's fickle. Never stays in one place. Shifts with no warnin'. It'll help ye one moment, then throw ye off a mountain the next. An' ye can never tell if it's bein' playful or just cruel." His eyes flicked upward, narrowing at the clouds as if challenging them. "It doesn't respect strength like Earth does. It doesn't demand respect like Fire. It's wild, Nzaria. Always has been."
'Keep him talking. He wants to get this off his chest, and it's distracting him from being seasick.'
'This is valuable intelligence.'
'And fascinating.'
"What about Water? Couldn't you at least becalm the tides?"
"Water is… so-so. Not so shifty as Air, not so solid as Earth. Ye have to be patient with 'em- it's all about push an' pull. Give an' take. At least, that's what my mother always told me." His frown deepened. "Dunno if I ever really understood what she meant."
Thoradin scowled, looking miserable.
"I was workin' on it, before the Shatterin'." He ran a hand down his face, his thick fingers dragging over his beard as he sighed. "Took years just to get the Water Elementals in Loch Modan to talk to me proper, an' even then, most of 'em weren't ready to make any real deals. I was buildin' somethin' with 'em- start small, aye? They do a little somethin' fer me, I do a little somethin' fer them, and maybe in a few more years, I'd have earned their trust enough fer a real ask." His expression turned bitter. "But, well. Ye saw what happened to the Loch."
Nzaria remembered. The ruins of the dam, the cracked stone, the lifeless, muddy basin where a lake once stood. She had felt the ghost of elemental fury in the land itself, the raw, wounded absence of water where it had once belonged.
"So they were washed out to sea," she surmised.
Thoradin nodded. "Aye. All of 'em. An' none o' the ones I'd been makin' progress with had gotten to the point of carvin' a totem."
Nzaria tilted her head slightly. "Carving a totem?"
Thoradin looked at her like she'd asked why the sun rises. "What, ye think we carry these things around fer decoration?" He gestured vaguely toward his belt, where several carved totems- stone, metal and wood -hung from a thick leather strap. "Each one is a receptacle, lass. A connection to a specific Elemental I've made a deal with. When I carve a totem, I'm makin' it so I can call on 'em even if I'm far away- so I don't have to start from scratch every time I move somewhere new."
'Interesting. A potential weakness to be exploited, should you ever need to fight him.'
Nzaria's eyes flicked over the small, rune-marked objects. "So those aren't just generic elements, they're tied to individual beings."
"Aye," Thoradin confirmed. "Each one's got a name, a history. They're not just balls o' fire an' lumps o' rock, ye know. The Elements think, feel- even if they don't think like us. Ye can't just summon an Earth Elemental an' assume it'll do what ye want. Aye, in an ideal world we'd be workin' towards the same goals, and those are the times that ye truly feel alive as a Shaman. But with Al'Akir and Ragnaros sidin' with Deathwing, that's less and less common. That is why we bargain."
Nzaria leaned against the railing, her throat and hands aching. She thought of Emberus, consumed alive by her power.
"And what do you bargain with?"
Thoradin snorted. "Thinkin' of tradin' the Light fer the Elements?" He smirked, though it was still weary, his complexion still unpleasantly green. "Well, it's no great secret, anyway. Fer small things, yer basic burst o' flame, a shield o' rock, ye just trade 'em a bit o' yer energy, what some folk call Mana. But fer big things? Like summonin' 'em to fight fer ye, startin' a landslide, callin' a storm- or, aye, calmin' one -ye can just keep pumpin' in more an' more power, but ye only got so much o' that before yer dry as a bone."
Nzaria nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "So what else can you trade?"
"Depends on the Elemental, really," Thoradin said. "Some o' them want to see new things. They're curious, want to know what's happenin' in places they can't reach. Others want payment: Earth Elementals love precious gems an' crystals. Like, really love 'em." He shook his head. "Then there's the ones who want service, ask ye to do somethin' fer 'em. Could be deliverin' a message to another elemental, or negotiatin' between two fightin' ones- or, if yer real unlucky, beatin' up a rival."
Nzaria smirked. "I thought Shamans were all about harmony with the Elements, not fighting them."
Thoradin let out a dry chuckle. "I said we can't enslave 'em. Fightin' 'em's a different matter." He shrugged. "The Elements are always at war with each other anyway, us mortals are just a drop in the bucket compared to that. Fire an' Water, Earth an' Air, always feudin', always shiftin' alliances. Sometimes the best way to earn an Elemental's trust is to prove yerself in a fight. Let 'em know ye can hold yer own. Other times, it's better to smooth things over with words. That's the mark of a true shaman, not how much raw power you have to throw around, but knowin' how best to deal with the Elements an' get them to listen to you."
For a time, they stood in silence, the conversation about the Elements hanging between them, half-settled, half-unanswered. Then Thoradin shifted against his crate, rubbing a hand over his face before casting a glance her way.
"I told ye how it works fer me," he said, voice rough but steady. "The bargainin', the trust, the give an' take. But what about yer power?" His gaze narrowed, still heavy-lidded from nausea but sharp with curiosity. "How does the Light work fer ye?"
Nzaria stiffened, only slightly, but she felt it, like an iron band tightening around her ribs.
That was the trouble with people like Thoradin. They weren't stupid. He wasn't some blindly faithful fool, too enamored with his own power to question another's.
She didn't look at him immediately, instead letting her fingers curl against the damp wood of the railing. "That's… complicated," she said at last.
Thoradin gave a short chuckle. "Aye, an' here I thought I was the one dealin' with fickle powers."
"You should have asked a Priest if you wanted a real answer," Nzaria said slowly. "They'd have the right words to describe it. I don't really understand it myself, either. But I don't need to know it, I just need to have conviction, have faith. I call for it, and it answers. That is enough."
That was what Aruviel had taught her to say if questioned. But that was meant to come from an ordinary Draenei soldier. Not a Paladin.
Thoradin frowned. "So ye just… believe hard enough an' it works?"
"More or less."
Of course, the truth was that she had simply stolen the Light from Undonn. No training. No faith. No devotion.
But she wasn't about to reveal that.
Thoradin grunted, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. "So what, anyone could tap into the Light if'n they jus' believed hard enough? Could I do it?"
Nzaria hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "Well, it still takes training. The right mindset," she added carefully. "But yes. I suppose you could."
"Hmph. I don't trust anythin' if'n I don't know what it's gettin' out o' the deal," he muttered. "Things that give power too easy tend t' come collectin' when ye least expect it."
Nzaria turned back toward the storm, watching the rain lash against the waves. "Maybe," she murmured.
Thoradin studied her for a long moment before sighing, slumping back against the crate again. "Bah. I'm too sick t' think straight."
Nzaria chuckled softly, letting the conversation fade into silence once more.
-----
The call rang out from the crow's nest before Nzaria even saw it.
"Land ahead! Highbank in sight!"
Nzaria stepped forward, gripping the ship's railing, the damp wood creaking under her gauntleted fingers. The mists parted ahead, revealing the silhouette of the island fortress on the horizon. Jagged cliffs rose from the sea, crowned with sturdy stone walls and watchtowers, their banners snapping violently in the wind. Highbank was built for war, the Alliance's foothold in the Highlands. But something was wrong.
Nzaria's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight beyond the mist. Thick black smoke curled into the air in twisting columns, choking the sky. Flashes of fire and cannon blasts flickered like distant lightning, while the deep, rhythmic boom of artillery thundered across the waves. The closer they sailed, the clearer the chaos became.
The fortress was under siege.
"Shit," Thoradin muttered beside her, bracing himself against the railing. He looked more alert than he had the entire voyage, the sickly green tinge of seasickness fading as adrenaline took hold. "They're under attack."
The storm hadn't been the only battle raging.
More details came into focus as the ship cut through the choppy waters. Several vessels loomed offshore from Highbank, dark-hulled and bristling with weaponry, their decks crawling with armored troops. Anchored just beyond the range of most weapons, they were deploying small landing craft filled with soldiers, rowing hard toward the docks.
Overhead, a zeppelin circled around the island, propellers whirring, the purple airbag contrasted against the storm-dark sky. It hung above Highbank like a carrion bird, belching fire and smoke as it rained destruction upon the Alliance defenders below. She watched as an explosion tore through one of the fortress's outer walls, sending stone and debris cascading down into the sea.
"Is it the Twilight's Hammer?" she asked, trying to sharpen her gaze, to make sense of the figures moving along the enemy decks.
"Worse," came Koltus' voice from behind her.
She turned her head slightly to see him stepping onto the deck, his usually easy smirk nowhere to be found. His expression was grim, his eyes dark with something cold and venomous. He moved forward, his boots thudding against the damp wood as he came to stand beside her.
Then, he spat over the railing.
"It's the Horde."
Nzaria stood at the front of one such line, her gauntleted hands planted firmly on the wooden counter, fingers subtly curling into the wood. Behind her, Thoradin loomed with crossed arms, his thick brows drawn low over his stormy eyes, the beads in his braids clicking faintly as he shifted his stance. Koltus stood a few meters away, back in his human form with an annoying smirk plastered across his face, while Lanya leaned against a nearby lamp post.
The recruitment officer, a wiry human man with ink-stained fingers and the beginnings of a receding hairline, cleared his throat. "Look, I understand you're eager to get into the fight, but we don't just send anyone to Highbank. It's a strategic warfront. Only seasoned fighters with a proven record-"
Nzaria's fingers dug a little deeper into the wood. "I have a proven record," she growled, her tail lashing behind her. "The letter from Redmane Hold-"
"Yes, yes, I see it," the officer interrupted, adjusting his glasses as he flipped through the parchment. "Baruk Redmane… I suppose it must be a respectable name among the dwarves, but-"
Thoradin let out a sharp huff of disbelief. "Respectable?" His voice, already gravelly, turned downright thunderous. "Baruk Redmane is a damned hero of the Alliance, veteran of the First, Second and Third Wars. He sits on the Council of Clans in Ironforge, and his advice was valued by King Magni Bronzebeard. And his word and seal isn't enough for you?"
The officer flinched at the volume but held firm, adjusting the stack of papers on his desk. "None of that makes him part of the Alliance High Command." He gave a tired sigh and glanced back up at them. "Look, I don't doubt you're all capable. But I need to send up these recommendations to my superiors, and your story needs to be verified. That takes time, especially with Ironforge in chaos. The letter alone isn't enough to-"
Nzaria's patience snapped.
"Twilight's Hammer is claiming ground by the day, and you want to push papers around until Deathwing comes back and finishes the city off for good measure?" Nzaria snarled, her fist leaving a dent on the wooden table, a few splinters standing up.
Koltus chuckled, tilting his head toward Thoradin. "You know, for a paladin, she's got a lot of pent-up aggression."
Nzaria ignored him, her glowing violet eyes drilling into the recruitment officer. "Let me make this simple," she continued, voice low, measured. "I've killed more Twilight's Hammer cultists than everyone else on this beach combined. I know how they work, I know how to fight them. You need me in the Highlands. So send me there."
The officer, to his credit, didn't wilt under her glare, but he looked increasingly uncomfortable. "That's not how the chain of command works, ma'am," he explained with increasing frustration. "If I let you through, and you mess something up, and they find out that I didn't follow protocol, it'll be my head on the chopping block right next to you."
Nzaria snarled, her gauntleted fists opening and closing, the violet glare of her eye illuminating the officer's face.
In her mind's eye she saw herself reach out, grabbing the human's head and slamming his head onto his desk so hard it would burst like an overripe fruit.
'Temper yourself. Wanton murder achieves nothing.'
"Truly, what are the rest of us even doing here, because we've found the bravest officer in the Alliance right here," Koltus snarked. "Fighting Deathwing, that's the easy stuff, Stormwind's most courageous sons are needed back home to defend the bureaucracy from angry eight-foot tall paladins from another planet."
"Look," the officer said, massaging his temples with one hand. "I can't help you. I'll get this sent to my superiors, but in the meanwhile, you'll just have to wait. The word of this 'Baruk Redmane', whoever he is, isn't enough for me to-"
A quiet voice interrupted him.
"Then what about Lanya Dawnchaser? Is that a name that speaks anything to you, officer?"
The shift was instant.
The recruiter's entire demeanor changed. His face drained of color, his back straightened, and his hands- just moments ago so casually flipping through papers -suddenly stilled.
Nzaria turned, her own brow furrowing as she followed his gaze.
Lanya had stepped forward, her posture relaxed, her expression unreadable. The midday sun caught the red markings painted across her face, the feathered mantle draped over her shoulders shifting slightly in the breeze.
The recruiter's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching toward his paperwork as if scrambling to find something to justify his existence.
"I-" He coughed, clearing his throat, flipping rapidly through his forms as though they might somehow save him. "I-uh,I beg your pardon, ma'am?"
Lanya's expression didn't change, her voice perfectly calm as she spoke. "They are with me."
The recruiter's eyes flicked between her and Nzaria, his jaw tightening, his breaths coming slightly faster.
Nzaria arched a brow, watching him with growing curiosity.
"Uh-" He cleared his throat again. "Y-you know, actually, I think there is some flexibility in the requirements. And given, uh, certain endorsements-" He coughed. "I can, uh- expedite your deployment. Yes. Yes, I can do that."
"Good. Do it."
The recruiter nodded so fast it was a wonder his head didn't fly off. "It-it is an honour, Ma'am! My brother was on the Skybreaker, he said-"
"Just get on with it," Lanya said, her expression unwavering. "Please."
Nzaria raised an eyebrow at the night elf, as the officer started furiously writing, but she ignored her entirely.
-----
The Wavecutter was a sturdy vessel, built for war rather than comfort. Her hull was thick, reinforced with iron plates along the bow, her sails heavy with deep blue canvas emblazoned with the golden lion of Stormwind. She cut through the waves with practiced ease, yet no amount of craftsmanship could fully tame the churning sea. The sky overhead was slate-gray, heavy with storm clouds, and the wind carried a salty sting, the tang of approaching rain thick in the air.
Nzaria stood near the ship's bow, gripping the railing hard enough to make the damp wood creak beneath her gauntleted fingers. The constant, unpredictable motion of the ship unsettled her in ways she hadn't expected. It wasn't seasickness- her stomach was fine -but she hated the lack of control.
Flying was different. When she flew, she moved herself, adjusting her wings, shifting with the
air currents, dictating her own motion. But this? This was something else entirely.
'Dragons were not meant for the sea.'
'Of course not. You are meant for the sky.'
Her claws itched. Her wings- her real wings -longed to stretch, to catch the air, to leave this wooden prison behind and soar. The only thing stopping her was the need to blend in, to maintain the lie.
She braced herself as the ship lurched again, her hooves planted firmly against the deck. No amount of preparation could counteract the sheer unpredictability of the ocean. It was like a living thing, tugging her forward one moment, dragging her back the next, shifting beneath her feet with a mind of its own.
She hated it.
A miserable groan interrupted her thoughts.
Thoradin slumped against a crate a few feet away, his normally ruddy complexion tinged an unhealthy shade of green. His braids, usually so neatly kept, were a tangled mess from hours of suffering, and his thick arms rested limply against his knees as he leaned forward, eyes squeezed shut in pure misery.
Nzaria regarded him with something between amusement and mild disdain.
"I thought dwarves were supposed to be sturdy," she said.
Thoradin cracked one eye open just enough to glare at her. "Ye can't punch the sea, lass," he rasped, then immediately turned and retched over the side of the ship.
Nzaria wrinkled her nose. "Charming."
Thoradin groaned again, wiping his mouth with the back of his gauntlet. "It's no' my fault," he grumbled. "We were meant for the mountains, not this cursed, ever-shiftin' mess o' water." He shifted slightly, wincing as the ship rocked again. "If the Titans wanted dwarves on the sea, we'd have been born with flippers an' gills."
Nzaria rolled her shoulders, steadying herself against another sudden pitch of the ship. "Can't you do something about it?" she asked. "You're a shaman, aren't you? Can't you just tell the wind and water to behave?"
Thoradin let out something that was halfway between a laugh and a pained wheeze. "Aye, lass, an' maybe ye should just tell the Light to strike Deathwing down where he stands."
Nzaria frowned. It wasn't the answer she had expected.
"We don't give the Elements orders," he continued, grimacing. "We ask, we bargain, we listen- but they've got their own wills, their own tempers. And right now?" He cast a hand toward the storm-churned sea. "The Wind isn't listenin'."
'Foolish.'
'Weak. You do not ask. You command.'
Nzaria pushed the thoughts away, her expression hardening. "Why not?"
Thoradin sighed, rubbing his temple. "Because Al'Akir, the Windlord himself, threw in his lot with Deathwing," he muttered bitterly. "Him an' his storm-whelps turned their backs on Azeroth, an' now most wind elementals've followed suit."
"You won't give orders even to elementals that are working for the Twilight's Hammer?"
Thoradin's entire demeanor shifted. His usual gruff irritation darkened into something heavier, his fingers curling into fists against his knees. His voice, when it came, was low and cold.
"Aye, I suppose slavery's all grand an' proper so long as ye're only doin' it to yer enemies, eh? Let me tell ye somethin', lass- ye start forcin' the Elements when they don't agree with ye, an' soon enough none of 'em are going to be willing ta work with ye."
'Careful! Do not push him too far.'
Nzaria held his gaze, her expression blank.
"The Twilight's Hammer seems to manage pretty successfully," she said carefully.
"You said you've been fightin' the Hammer fer a long time," Thoradin went on, his tone rough with something deeper than mere nausea. "So I'll forgive yer ignorance, this once. But never, ever say those words ta me again."
Silence hung between them, save for the crashing waves.
Nzaria studied him for a moment longer, then finally tilted her head. "Alright," she said, her voice even. "Then explain it to me."
Thoradin was silent for a long moment, as if weighing whether it was worth the effort. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke.
"Aye, I'll grant ye, Dark Shamanism is faster, easier, more convenient. Ye don't have to build trust, don't have to ask, don't have to pay anything back. But it ain't stronger." He tapped his chest. "A True Shaman adds to the Elements, lass. Stands with 'em, not against 'em. Ye think ye can force fire to burn hotter? Crush the earth into shape? Aye, maybe ye can. But ye can do so much more if they want to help ye."
Still, she tilted her head. "That doesn't explain you, though."
Thoradin frowned at her.
She gestured at him with one gauntleted hand. "Surely not all Air Elementals bow to the Windlord without question? You're right, I don't know a lot of Shamans, but I think I would have heard about it if all of them stopped being able to call on the Wind."
Thoradin's scowl deepened. He leaned back against the crate, sighing heavily. "Never had much love for the Wind, even before the turn," he admitted. "An' the feelin's mutual. Fire an' Earth, the heat o' the forge and the strength o' the mountains, those are easy to find common ground with. Honest, solid elements."
Nzaria arched a brow. "Honest? The same fire that burns everything in its path?"
Thoradin smirked weakly. "Aye. Because ye know it'll burn. It doesn't lie to ye. If ye don't respect it, it'll eat ye alive. Simple." He tapped a finger against the wooden railing. "Earth's the same. It doesn't play games. If ye can stand firm, it'll stand with ye. But Wind?" His expression darkened, his grip tightening again. "Wind is treacherous."
Nzaria's gaze flicked to the storm-wracked sky. "How so?"
Thoradin exhaled through his nose. "It's fickle. Never stays in one place. Shifts with no warnin'. It'll help ye one moment, then throw ye off a mountain the next. An' ye can never tell if it's bein' playful or just cruel." His eyes flicked upward, narrowing at the clouds as if challenging them. "It doesn't respect strength like Earth does. It doesn't demand respect like Fire. It's wild, Nzaria. Always has been."
'Keep him talking. He wants to get this off his chest, and it's distracting him from being seasick.'
'This is valuable intelligence.'
'And fascinating.'
"What about Water? Couldn't you at least becalm the tides?"
"Water is… so-so. Not so shifty as Air, not so solid as Earth. Ye have to be patient with 'em- it's all about push an' pull. Give an' take. At least, that's what my mother always told me." His frown deepened. "Dunno if I ever really understood what she meant."
Thoradin scowled, looking miserable.
"I was workin' on it, before the Shatterin'." He ran a hand down his face, his thick fingers dragging over his beard as he sighed. "Took years just to get the Water Elementals in Loch Modan to talk to me proper, an' even then, most of 'em weren't ready to make any real deals. I was buildin' somethin' with 'em- start small, aye? They do a little somethin' fer me, I do a little somethin' fer them, and maybe in a few more years, I'd have earned their trust enough fer a real ask." His expression turned bitter. "But, well. Ye saw what happened to the Loch."
Nzaria remembered. The ruins of the dam, the cracked stone, the lifeless, muddy basin where a lake once stood. She had felt the ghost of elemental fury in the land itself, the raw, wounded absence of water where it had once belonged.
"So they were washed out to sea," she surmised.
Thoradin nodded. "Aye. All of 'em. An' none o' the ones I'd been makin' progress with had gotten to the point of carvin' a totem."
Nzaria tilted her head slightly. "Carving a totem?"
Thoradin looked at her like she'd asked why the sun rises. "What, ye think we carry these things around fer decoration?" He gestured vaguely toward his belt, where several carved totems- stone, metal and wood -hung from a thick leather strap. "Each one is a receptacle, lass. A connection to a specific Elemental I've made a deal with. When I carve a totem, I'm makin' it so I can call on 'em even if I'm far away- so I don't have to start from scratch every time I move somewhere new."
'Interesting. A potential weakness to be exploited, should you ever need to fight him.'
Nzaria's eyes flicked over the small, rune-marked objects. "So those aren't just generic elements, they're tied to individual beings."
"Aye," Thoradin confirmed. "Each one's got a name, a history. They're not just balls o' fire an' lumps o' rock, ye know. The Elements think, feel- even if they don't think like us. Ye can't just summon an Earth Elemental an' assume it'll do what ye want. Aye, in an ideal world we'd be workin' towards the same goals, and those are the times that ye truly feel alive as a Shaman. But with Al'Akir and Ragnaros sidin' with Deathwing, that's less and less common. That is why we bargain."
Nzaria leaned against the railing, her throat and hands aching. She thought of Emberus, consumed alive by her power.
"And what do you bargain with?"
Thoradin snorted. "Thinkin' of tradin' the Light fer the Elements?" He smirked, though it was still weary, his complexion still unpleasantly green. "Well, it's no great secret, anyway. Fer small things, yer basic burst o' flame, a shield o' rock, ye just trade 'em a bit o' yer energy, what some folk call Mana. But fer big things? Like summonin' 'em to fight fer ye, startin' a landslide, callin' a storm- or, aye, calmin' one -ye can just keep pumpin' in more an' more power, but ye only got so much o' that before yer dry as a bone."
Nzaria nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "So what else can you trade?"
"Depends on the Elemental, really," Thoradin said. "Some o' them want to see new things. They're curious, want to know what's happenin' in places they can't reach. Others want payment: Earth Elementals love precious gems an' crystals. Like, really love 'em." He shook his head. "Then there's the ones who want service, ask ye to do somethin' fer 'em. Could be deliverin' a message to another elemental, or negotiatin' between two fightin' ones- or, if yer real unlucky, beatin' up a rival."
Nzaria smirked. "I thought Shamans were all about harmony with the Elements, not fighting them."
Thoradin let out a dry chuckle. "I said we can't enslave 'em. Fightin' 'em's a different matter." He shrugged. "The Elements are always at war with each other anyway, us mortals are just a drop in the bucket compared to that. Fire an' Water, Earth an' Air, always feudin', always shiftin' alliances. Sometimes the best way to earn an Elemental's trust is to prove yerself in a fight. Let 'em know ye can hold yer own. Other times, it's better to smooth things over with words. That's the mark of a true shaman, not how much raw power you have to throw around, but knowin' how best to deal with the Elements an' get them to listen to you."
For a time, they stood in silence, the conversation about the Elements hanging between them, half-settled, half-unanswered. Then Thoradin shifted against his crate, rubbing a hand over his face before casting a glance her way.
"I told ye how it works fer me," he said, voice rough but steady. "The bargainin', the trust, the give an' take. But what about yer power?" His gaze narrowed, still heavy-lidded from nausea but sharp with curiosity. "How does the Light work fer ye?"
Nzaria stiffened, only slightly, but she felt it, like an iron band tightening around her ribs.
That was the trouble with people like Thoradin. They weren't stupid. He wasn't some blindly faithful fool, too enamored with his own power to question another's.
She didn't look at him immediately, instead letting her fingers curl against the damp wood of the railing. "That's… complicated," she said at last.
Thoradin gave a short chuckle. "Aye, an' here I thought I was the one dealin' with fickle powers."
"You should have asked a Priest if you wanted a real answer," Nzaria said slowly. "They'd have the right words to describe it. I don't really understand it myself, either. But I don't need to know it, I just need to have conviction, have faith. I call for it, and it answers. That is enough."
That was what Aruviel had taught her to say if questioned. But that was meant to come from an ordinary Draenei soldier. Not a Paladin.
Thoradin frowned. "So ye just… believe hard enough an' it works?"
"More or less."
Of course, the truth was that she had simply stolen the Light from Undonn. No training. No faith. No devotion.
But she wasn't about to reveal that.
Thoradin grunted, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. "So what, anyone could tap into the Light if'n they jus' believed hard enough? Could I do it?"
Nzaria hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "Well, it still takes training. The right mindset," she added carefully. "But yes. I suppose you could."
"Hmph. I don't trust anythin' if'n I don't know what it's gettin' out o' the deal," he muttered. "Things that give power too easy tend t' come collectin' when ye least expect it."
Nzaria turned back toward the storm, watching the rain lash against the waves. "Maybe," she murmured.
Thoradin studied her for a long moment before sighing, slumping back against the crate again. "Bah. I'm too sick t' think straight."
Nzaria chuckled softly, letting the conversation fade into silence once more.
-----
The call rang out from the crow's nest before Nzaria even saw it.
"Land ahead! Highbank in sight!"
Nzaria stepped forward, gripping the ship's railing, the damp wood creaking under her gauntleted fingers. The mists parted ahead, revealing the silhouette of the island fortress on the horizon. Jagged cliffs rose from the sea, crowned with sturdy stone walls and watchtowers, their banners snapping violently in the wind. Highbank was built for war, the Alliance's foothold in the Highlands. But something was wrong.
Nzaria's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight beyond the mist. Thick black smoke curled into the air in twisting columns, choking the sky. Flashes of fire and cannon blasts flickered like distant lightning, while the deep, rhythmic boom of artillery thundered across the waves. The closer they sailed, the clearer the chaos became.
The fortress was under siege.
"Shit," Thoradin muttered beside her, bracing himself against the railing. He looked more alert than he had the entire voyage, the sickly green tinge of seasickness fading as adrenaline took hold. "They're under attack."
The storm hadn't been the only battle raging.
More details came into focus as the ship cut through the choppy waters. Several vessels loomed offshore from Highbank, dark-hulled and bristling with weaponry, their decks crawling with armored troops. Anchored just beyond the range of most weapons, they were deploying small landing craft filled with soldiers, rowing hard toward the docks.
Overhead, a zeppelin circled around the island, propellers whirring, the purple airbag contrasted against the storm-dark sky. It hung above Highbank like a carrion bird, belching fire and smoke as it rained destruction upon the Alliance defenders below. She watched as an explosion tore through one of the fortress's outer walls, sending stone and debris cascading down into the sea.
"Is it the Twilight's Hammer?" she asked, trying to sharpen her gaze, to make sense of the figures moving along the enemy decks.
"Worse," came Koltus' voice from behind her.
She turned her head slightly to see him stepping onto the deck, his usually easy smirk nowhere to be found. His expression was grim, his eyes dark with something cold and venomous. He moved forward, his boots thudding against the damp wood as he came to stand beside her.
Then, he spat over the railing.
"It's the Horde."
"If those foolish mortals didn't want to die, they shouldn't have gotten in the way of my vengeance."
Considering she needed to be talked down by her head voices from getting stabby with her tentative allies/operational camouflage.
Considering she needed to be talked down by her head voices from getting stabby with her tentative allies/operational camouflage.
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K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
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She probably won't care as long as long as it gets her closer to her goal of fighting the TH. She doesn't care (yet) about other people.
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- USA
Well, I see Lanya has been busy. A veteran of Icecrown Citadel?
I wonder if she'll run into any Blood Elf paladins. They would have a similar experience to her in how they acquired the light, depending on when they got it, so that might be an interesting contrast.
I really enjoyed the world building conversation about how the elements work, I think it added a lot and the probing questions back are nice. It's good that she's surrounded by people who will prod her, it's giving her more depth as a character I think.
- Location
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Orcs have an absolute hate boner against Draenai, especially ones that wield the light. So even if Nzaria isn't interested, the other side sure will be.
- Location
- Omniverse #1345
"Get out of my way!"
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Mmm, not really? Kil'jaeden tricked them into genociding the Draenei and by modern day the Orcs, or at least the ones that are part of the Horde, generally know that they were tricked and regret what they did.
If anything it's more the Draenei having a hateboner against the Orcs by this point in the timeline. Y'know, because of the genocide.
Which honestly consider the Draenie's own history with demons and loseing people to corruption is a bit gouache, demons may not have even come to dranor yet if they weren't being pursued.
Does that mean Nzaria will have to play along with the Dranei attacking the Orcs or ignore them which might tip them off that one of their own ignore the enemy that massacred their kin?
Timeline
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It has come to my attention that there is apparently some confusion over when exactly this story takes place, so I have put together this timeline with most of the historical events of relevance to the story.
ADP: After the Dark Portal
-20,000 ADP: The Titans empower the Dragon Aspects through the Titanic Keepers, and create the five Dragonflights.
-13,000 ADP: The Eredar are corrupted by Sargeras, Velen forms the Draenei and flees from Argus.
-10,000 ADP: The War of the Ancients, First Invasion of the Burning Legion, the Sundering, Deathwing creates the Dragon Soul and betrays the other Dragon Aspects.
-230 ADP: The War of Three Hammers, dwarves split into the Bronzebeards, Wildhammers and Dark Irons.
-200 ADP: The Draenei arrive on Draenor
-10 ADP: Kil'jaeden discovers Draenor, manipulates the Orcs into creating the Horde and massacring the Draenei
0 ADP: Kil'jaeden manipulates the Orcs into invading Azeroth through the Dark Portal, the First War begins.
3 ADP: The Horde destroys Stormwind, First War ends.
5 ADP: The Alliance is formed to fight the Horde, Second War begins, Alexstrasza is enslaved by Dragonmaw Orcs using the Dragon Soul.
6 ADP: The Horde is defeated, Second War ends. Orcs put into internment camps.
8 ADP: Sons of Lothar invade Draenor, Draenor is destroyed and becomes Outland.
10 ADP: Alexstrasza is freed from captivity, Dragon Soul is destroyed, Deathwing flees to Deepholm.
20 ADP: Third War begins, Thrall breaks the Orcs free from the internment camps and reforms the Horde before fleeing to Kalimdor to found a new home where they are joined by the Tauren and the Darkspear Trolls, the Scourge ravages Lordaeron, Dalaran and Quel'thalas, Gilneas isolates itself from the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms but the Worgen curse begins to spread, the High Elves become the Blood Elves, the Second Invasion of the Burning Legion begins.
21 ADP: Battle of Mount Hyjal, the Second Invasion of the Burning Legion and the Third War end.
22 ADP: Arthas Menethil becomes the Lich King, Illidan moves to Outland, Sylvanas Windrunner founds the Forsaken.
23 ADP: Kul Tiras under Daelin Proudmoore attacks the Horde in Kalimdor and is defeated, Kul Tiras leaves the Alliance, the Forsaken join the Horde, Night Elves join the Alliance
25 ADP: Low-intensity skirmishing between the Horde and the Alliance begins, Emperor Thaurissan is killed in Shadowforge City, Ragnaros is defeated in the Molten Core, Nefarian is slain in Blackrock Mountain, C'thun is defeated in Ahn'Qiraj, Kel'Thuzad is defeated in Naxxramas.
26 ADP: The surviving Draenei arrive on Azeroth onboard the Exodar and join the Alliance, the Blood Elves join the Horde, Alliance and Horde invade Outland and defeat Illidan, the Sunwell is restored, Sintharia acquires Nether Dragons from Outland.
27 ADP: The Scourge launches a worldwide attack that is defeated and eventually pushed back to Northrend, Arthas is slain, Bolvar Fordragon becomes Lich King, the Battles of Wrathgate and Undercity heighten tensions between the Alliance and the Horde, Yogg-Saron is defeated in Ulduar, Sintharia uses captured Nether Dragons and stolen eggs to make the first Twilight Dragons but is slain when Dargonax grows too powerful to control and turns on her.
28 ADP: Deathwing returns from Deepholm initiating the Cataclysm, Thrall abdicates the position of Warchief and Garrosh Hellscream takes over, Magni Bronzebeard turns to diamond and the Council of Three Hammers is founded, Twilight's Hammer uses a false-flag attack to start an all-out war between the Alliance and the Horde, Gilneas is overrun by the Worgen and invaded by the Horde, Deathwing resurrects Sintharia and mates with her, Sintharia converts the resulting eggs into Twilight Dragons, one of which hatches into Nzaria, leading to Chapter 1 of this story.
ADP: After the Dark Portal
-20,000 ADP: The Titans empower the Dragon Aspects through the Titanic Keepers, and create the five Dragonflights.
-13,000 ADP: The Eredar are corrupted by Sargeras, Velen forms the Draenei and flees from Argus.
-10,000 ADP: The War of the Ancients, First Invasion of the Burning Legion, the Sundering, Deathwing creates the Dragon Soul and betrays the other Dragon Aspects.
-230 ADP: The War of Three Hammers, dwarves split into the Bronzebeards, Wildhammers and Dark Irons.
-200 ADP: The Draenei arrive on Draenor
-10 ADP: Kil'jaeden discovers Draenor, manipulates the Orcs into creating the Horde and massacring the Draenei
0 ADP: Kil'jaeden manipulates the Orcs into invading Azeroth through the Dark Portal, the First War begins.
3 ADP: The Horde destroys Stormwind, First War ends.
5 ADP: The Alliance is formed to fight the Horde, Second War begins, Alexstrasza is enslaved by Dragonmaw Orcs using the Dragon Soul.
6 ADP: The Horde is defeated, Second War ends. Orcs put into internment camps.
8 ADP: Sons of Lothar invade Draenor, Draenor is destroyed and becomes Outland.
10 ADP: Alexstrasza is freed from captivity, Dragon Soul is destroyed, Deathwing flees to Deepholm.
20 ADP: Third War begins, Thrall breaks the Orcs free from the internment camps and reforms the Horde before fleeing to Kalimdor to found a new home where they are joined by the Tauren and the Darkspear Trolls, the Scourge ravages Lordaeron, Dalaran and Quel'thalas, Gilneas isolates itself from the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms but the Worgen curse begins to spread, the High Elves become the Blood Elves, the Second Invasion of the Burning Legion begins.
21 ADP: Battle of Mount Hyjal, the Second Invasion of the Burning Legion and the Third War end.
22 ADP: Arthas Menethil becomes the Lich King, Illidan moves to Outland, Sylvanas Windrunner founds the Forsaken.
23 ADP: Kul Tiras under Daelin Proudmoore attacks the Horde in Kalimdor and is defeated, Kul Tiras leaves the Alliance, the Forsaken join the Horde, Night Elves join the Alliance
25 ADP: Low-intensity skirmishing between the Horde and the Alliance begins, Emperor Thaurissan is killed in Shadowforge City, Ragnaros is defeated in the Molten Core, Nefarian is slain in Blackrock Mountain, C'thun is defeated in Ahn'Qiraj, Kel'Thuzad is defeated in Naxxramas.
26 ADP: The surviving Draenei arrive on Azeroth onboard the Exodar and join the Alliance, the Blood Elves join the Horde, Alliance and Horde invade Outland and defeat Illidan, the Sunwell is restored, Sintharia acquires Nether Dragons from Outland.
27 ADP: The Scourge launches a worldwide attack that is defeated and eventually pushed back to Northrend, Arthas is slain, Bolvar Fordragon becomes Lich King, the Battles of Wrathgate and Undercity heighten tensions between the Alliance and the Horde, Yogg-Saron is defeated in Ulduar, Sintharia uses captured Nether Dragons and stolen eggs to make the first Twilight Dragons but is slain when Dargonax grows too powerful to control and turns on her.
28 ADP: Deathwing returns from Deepholm initiating the Cataclysm, Thrall abdicates the position of Warchief and Garrosh Hellscream takes over, Magni Bronzebeard turns to diamond and the Council of Three Hammers is founded, Twilight's Hammer uses a false-flag attack to start an all-out war between the Alliance and the Horde, Gilneas is overrun by the Worgen and invaded by the Horde, Deathwing resurrects Sintharia and mates with her, Sintharia converts the resulting eggs into Twilight Dragons, one of which hatches into Nzaria, leading to Chapter 1 of this story.
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K von Carstein
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Thanks, because my knowledge of WoW can hold on one page and I had no idea of the order of events.
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Feel free to ask if you have any questions, I love talking about the lore and will take any excuse to do so.
Damn, the first three expansions all happened back-to-back like that? These guys really don't get a break.
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I considered lengthening the timeline to give it more breathing room, but Nzaria taking on a Draenei visage form is foundational to this story, and the in-universe motivation for her doing so is that Draenei are new and rare in Azeroth, so it's hard to verify her backstory and it's an easy excuse for any gaps in her knowledge or odd behaviour. Since the arrival of the Draenei on Azeroth happens at the beginning of TBC I can't really introduce any time skips between then and Cataclysm without introducing plot holes that would severely undercut several key story beats.
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
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Duly noted!
How close are the Horde and the Alliance in term of military capabilities? What are their strengths and weaknesses? And where are they on the spectre between cordial enemies (with some kind of Geneva convention) and outright extermination warfare when they clash?
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Varder
Tired Cultist
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