World of Warcraft: Chronicle Volume 1 (33 page)

The War of the Shifting Sands had begun.

Fandral and his comrades established outposts across southern Kalimdor as they prosecuted their war. From these locations, they continued their brutal fight against the qiraji. Eventually, the tireless druids and their allies managed to push the qiraji back into the heart of Silithus itself.

Yet just as victory seemed within reach, the war took a dire turn. During a feint orchestrated by the qiraji, Valstann was captured and ripped apart before Fandral’s eyes.

Valstann’s death shattered the archdruid and sowed uncertainty throughout the
night elves’ ranks. The qiraji seized the opportunity and swarmed out of Silithus once again, pushing into the eastern deserts of Tanaris. In their fervor, they assaulted the sanctum of the bronze dragonflight: the
Caverns of Time.

The qiraji’s reckless attack spurred the bronze flight into action. Led by
Anachronos, they enlisted the help of the red, green, and blue dragonflights. The mighty dragons joined the night elves and helped drive the qiraji armies back behind the walls of Ahn’Qiraj.

But even with the mighty dragons joining the war, the qiraji were too numerous to vanquish entirely. Fandral feared that the war would never end. Thousands of elves had already perished at the claws of the insectoids, and he was loath to sacrifice more of his people. Ultimately, he and the dragons devised a means to end the war immediately. They would lock the insectoids inside Ahn’Qiraj itself.

The night elves and dragons gathered before Ahn’Qiraj to complete this task. Fandral called on his druids to focus their powers as one. Along with Anachronos, the elves summoned a great barricade to close off Ahn’Qiraj. Outside the cursed city, the dry earth split wide, and a magical barrier of stone and colossal roots emerged. This impenetrable
Scarab Wall towered high over the barren landscape, effectively sealing the qiraji within their city forever.

THE SCARAB WALL AND THE
SCARAB GONG

As a final act, Anachronos forged two mystical artifacts: the Scarab Gong and the
Scepter of the Shifting Sands. The dragon entrusted the scepter to
Fandral. Should the need ever arise to enter Ahn’Qiraj again, he could use this artifact to open the Scarab Wall.

Fandral found no solace in ending the
qiraji threat, for Valstann’s death still tormented his heart. In his rage, he shattered the Scepter of the Shifting Sands, and the pieces became lost for the next thousand years.

A
s the years passed in
Dalaran, new Guardians of Tirisfal came and went. Some retired in peace; others fell during their tireless war against the
Burning Legion’s agents. Nevertheless, Dalaran remained safe under the Guardian’s watchful eye.

One of the last Guardians to serve was a brilliant magus named
Scavell. At the end of his century of commitment, he found no suitable candidate to take his place. The
Council of Tirisfal, worried about what could happen in the years or decades it might take to find another Guardian, requested that Scavell remain in his position. The
human mage was reluctant, but he ultimately agreed. After all, the century of service was only a tradition, not a law. The relationship between Scavell and the council was relatively strong; together, they continued to protect the world from the Legion’s predations.

Years passed before Scavell finally found a group of apprentices who might succeed him. Among them was a human woman named
Aegwynn, who quickly distinguished herself as the most skilled and dedicated of the prospects. The Council of Tirisfal eventually bestowed the honor of Guardianship upon her with Scavell’s blessing. She immediately began banishing the forces of darkness.

Aegwynn was a brilliant Guardian, but she was also stubborn and bullheaded in her relations with the Council of Tirisfal. Her deep-seated mistrust of authority figures often put her at odds with the elder magi. Ignoring their recommendations and advice, Aegwynn forged her own path during her long years as Guardian. Yet the Council of Tirisfal was not troubled by her demeanor. The magi knew that Aegwynn was a sorceress without equal, a prodigy capable of wielding massive amounts of arcane energy. Her effectiveness as Guardian outweighed her unpredictability and penchant for disobedience.

Near the end of her century of stewardship, Aegwynn sensed something dark stirring in the icy lands of Northrend. She traveled to the distant continent and discovered a pack of demons that were hunting errant blue dragons, feeding on their potent arcane energies. Although mighty, the dragons could not withstand the Legion’s cunning and power.

Aegwynn immediately journeyed to the tower of
Wyrmrest Temple, the hallowed shrine of all dragons. She called on the majestic creatures to make good on their sacred pact to protect the world from evil. Led by
Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, several of the dragonflights agreed to fight at the Guardian’s side. Together, they staged an ambush near the gigantic skeletal remains of
Galakrond.

AEGWYNN CLASHES WITH THE AVATAR OF
SARGERAS IN NORTHREND

The demons fell into Aegwynn’s trap. As a blizzard tore over the terrain, the Guardian and her winged allies overwhelmed the Legion’s minions. Yet neither Aegwynn nor the dragons expected what came next.

The skies of Northrend churned and darkened. A monstrous demonic form emerged upon the battlefield: Sargeras, ruler of the
Burning Legion. This was only an avatar of the demon lord, a tiny portion of Sargeras’s vast cosmic power. Yet he nonetheless radiated great strength and fury. He unleashed his terrible might on Aegwynn, intending to destroy the Guardian who had thwarted his agents for so long.

Aegwynn did not hesitate to fight back. She summoned her powers and brought them to bear against Sargeras. The battle that followed was the most difficult Aegwynn had ever fought. In the shadow of
Galakrond’s gargantuan remains, Sargeras and the Guardian called down the fury of the heavens. Their attacks tore the darkened skies asunder and scarred the icy crust of Northrend. A storm of magic engulfed the region and held even the mighty dragons at bay. With a final relentless flurry of spellwork, Aegwynn defeated her foe. Though drained from the effort, she was victorious.

Or so it seemed.

When Aegwynn had struck Sargeras down, he had transferred his spirit into her weakened body. There, a sliver of Sargeras’s undying malevolence would remain, lurking within the depths of her soul.

Unaware of the dark presence hidden deep within her, Aegwynn gathered Sargeras’s colossal, broken form to seal it away where it could harm no one else. She considered many locations to serve as the demon lord’s final resting place. In the end she chose the ancient night elven city of
Suramar, some of which had been blasted to the bottom of the sea during the
Sundering.

During the
War of the Ancients, the Legion had attempted to open a gateway within Suramar itself. This plan was foiled by a sect of
Highborne led by Grand Magistrix
Elisande. These powerful sorcerers created a series of enchanted seals to close the demons’ portal and also negate nearby fel energies. When the Sundering later tore through the world, the part of Suramar containing the Legion’s failed gateway was sucked beneath the waves.

It was these lost ruins that drew Aegwynn’s attention. Knowing that the Highborne’s seals would nullify whatever evil still lingered in Sargeras’s avatar, she buried the demon lord’s broken body within the sunken portion of Suramar. Aegwynn hoped Sargeras’s remains would lie undisturbed there until the end of time.

W
hile Guardian Aegwynn kept watch over the world of Azeroth, the lonely
pandaren continued their isolated existence. Life on their homeland of Pandaria progressed in relative peace, save for the
mantid’s periodic assaults against the
Serpent’s Spine. As a people, the pandaren were content to live out their days behind the thick mists that shrouded their domain. They all believed that the rest of Azeroth had been annihilated in the terrible Sundering.

But a young pandaren,
Liu Lang, did not share this belief. He had been raised on a small ranch in the tranquil Valley of the Four Winds. He often wandered the cliffs that overlooked the sea, wondering if anything existed beyond the horizon. His curiosity led him to make a bold proclamation: he would embark on a great sea voyage and discover, once and for all, what had become of the outside world.

Ignoring the warnings and ridicule of his fellow pandaren, Liu Lang gathered a few meager supplies and began his journey. Atop a small turtle named
Shen-zin Su, he sailed through the cloaking mists. Time passed without word from Liu Lang, and the other pandaren believed he must have died on his foolhardy venture.

Then, five years later, Liu Lang returned. He told incredible tales of mysterious lands and peoples on the other side of the sea. After gathering more supplies, Liu Lang set out once again.

This time, he would not endure his journey alone. Shen-zin Su had grown larger over the years, and Liu Lang’s stories had inspired one pandaren to join him on the next leg of his voyage. Her name was Shinizi, and she later became Liu Lang’s wife.

Every five years, Liu Lang returned. Each time, Shen-zin Su had become larger, and more pandaren decided to join the eccentric explorer for a life of adventure. This tradition continued for decades until the Great Turtle had grown to the size of a giant island. Misty mountains and lakes formed atop the turtle’s shell. In time, villages sprang up across the landscape. These became home to a thriving community of pandaren who would eventually name their unique refuge the
Wandering Isle.