World of Warcraft: Chronicle Volume 1 (5 page)

Heated arguments flared between Sargeras and the rest of the Pantheon concerning how best to deal with the threat posed by the void lords. Above all, Sargeras feared that if the Old Gods had corrupted one world-soul, they might have corrupted many others as well. It might be too late to stop them.

Sargeras expressed his growing fear that existence itself was already flawed—an idea that he had come to terms with following his encounter with the Old Gods. Only by burning away all of creation could the titans stand a chance of thwarting the void lords’ ultimate goal. In Sargeras’s mind, even a lifeless universe was better than one dominated by the Void. Life had taken root in the cosmos once before. Perhaps after the physical universe was scoured of corruption, life would take root once again.

This idea horrified the rest of the Pantheon.
Eonar, the Life-Binder, reminded Sargeras that the titans had sworn to protect living things whenever possible. Nothing could be so dire as to warrant systemic extinction. Even Aggramar stood against his mentor, arguing that there must be another way to defeat the void lords. He urged Sargeras to abandon this dark plan and reason out another solution.

Overcome with despair and feelings of betrayal, Sargeras stormed away from the other titans. He knew full well that his kin would never see reason. And if they would not help him expel the void lords’ corruption, then he would do it himself.

This was the last time the titans of the Pantheon would see him as one of their own.

SARGERAS DESTROYS THE CORRUPTED WORLD-SOUL

THE BLACK EMPIRE

F
or many long ages, the
Pantheon continued searching the cosmos for nascent
titans, bringing order to countless worlds in the process. Yet despite their efforts, they did not find any more of their kin. At times, the titans of the Pantheon wondered if their search was in vain, but always they resolved to press on. They knew in their hearts that more
world-souls existed, and this hope filled them with purpose.

Though the Pantheon did not know it, their intuition was correct. A miraculous new world was taking shape in an isolated corner of the Great Dark. Deep within this world’s core, the spirit of a mighty and noble titan stirred to life.

One day, it would be known as Azeroth.

As the nascent titan developed, elemental spirits roamed across the world’s surface. Over the ages, these beings became ever more erratic and destructive. The burgeoning world-soul was so vast that it had drawn in and consumed much of the fifth element, Spirit. Without this primordial force to create balance, Azeroth’s elemental spirits descended into chaos.

Fire, earth, air, and water—these were the forces that lorded over the infant world. They reveled in unending strife, keeping the face of Azeroth in constant elemental flux. Four elemental lords, powerful beyond mortal comprehension, reigned supreme over innumerable lesser spirits.

Of the elemental lords, none could match the ruthless cunning of
Al’Akir the Windlord. He often sent his elusive tempest minions to spy on his enemies and sow distrust among their ranks. Using feints and ruses, he would pit the other elementals against each other, only later to unleash the full fury of his servants on his weakened foes. The winds would howl and the skies would darken with storms at his approach. As lightning blasted the world’s surface, Al’Akir’s whirlwind elementals would come screaming from the heavens, enveloping his foes in monstrous cyclones.

Ragnaros the Firelord despised Al’Akir’s cowardly ways. Compulsive and brash, the Firelord embraced brute force to annihilate his enemies. Wherever he went, volcanoes would burst through the world’s crust, spewing forth rivers of fire and destruction. Ragnaros longed for nothing more than to boil the seas, reduce the mountains to slag, and choke the skies with ember and ash. The other elemental lords fostered a deep hatred of Ragnaros for his brazen and devastating assaults.

Therazane the Stonemother was the most reclusive elemental ruler. Ever protective of her children, she raised towering mountain ranges to ward off her enemies’ assaults. Only after they
had worn themselves thin against her impenetrable fortifications would the Stonemother emerge, wrenching open giant chasms in the earth and swallowing entire elemental armies whole. Those who survived would meet oblivion at the fists of Therazane’s most powerful servants: walking mountains of unforgiving crystal and stone.

The wise
Neptulon the Tidehunter was careful not to fall for Al’Akir’s schemes or to commit his minions to fruitless attacks against Therazane’s citadels. As the armies of fire, air, and earth clashed across the face of Azeroth, the Tidehunter and his elementals would divide and conquer their rivals in brilliant routs. When his foes fled, Neptulon would crush them beneath tidal waves that dwarfed even Therazane’s highest mountain holdings.

The apocalyptic battles between the elemental lords raged for untold millennia. Dominion over Azeroth constantly shifted between the factions, each one striving to remake the world in its own image. Yet for the elementals, victory was secondary to the conflict itself. To them, the world’s calamitous state was sublime, and their only desire was to continue their endless cycle of chaos.

T
he elemental lords reveled amid the primordial bedlam until a group of
Old Gods plummeted down from the Great Dark. They slammed into Azeroth’s surface, embedding themselves in different locations across the world. These Old Gods towered over the land, mountains of flesh, pockmarked with hundreds of gnashing maws and black, unfeeling eyes. A miasma of despair soon enveloped everything that lay in their writhing shadows.

Like gargantuan, cancerous pustules, the Old Gods spread their corruptive influence across the landscape. The lands around them seethed and withered, turning black and lifeless for leagues upon leagues. All the while, the tendrils of the Old Gods wormed into the world’s crust, slithering deeper and deeper toward the defenseless heart of Azeroth.

Organic matter seeped from the Old Gods’ blighted forms, giving rise to two distinct races. The first were the cunning and intelligent
n’raqi, also known as the “faceless ones.” The second were the
aqir, insectoids of incredible resilience and strength. As the physical manifestations of the Old Gods’ will, both of these races would serve their masters with fanatical loyalty.

Through their new servants, the Old Gods expanded the borders of their remote dominions. The n’raqi acted as ruthless taskmasters, employing the aqir as laborers to erect towering citadels and temple cities around their masters’ colossal bulks. The greatest of these bastions was built around
Y’Shaarj, the most powerful and wicked of the Old Gods. This burgeoning civilization was located near the center of Azeroth’s largest continent. Y’Shaarj’s holdings, along with the other Old God domains, would soon spread across the world and become known as the
Black Empire.

The rise of the Black Empire did not go unnoticed by the elementals. Seeing the Old Gods as a challenge to their dominion, the elemental lords moved to excise the entities from their world. For the first time in Azeroth’s history, the world’s native spirits worked in unison against a common enemy.

Al’Akir’s tempests joined with Ragnaros’s fiery servants, creating monstrous cyclones of flame. These blistering firestorms raged over the world, reducing the Black Empire’s citadels to ash. Elsewhere, Therazane raised jagged rock walls to corral her enemies and shatter their temple cities.
Neptulon and his tidal minions then swept in, crushing the n’raqi and the aqir between unyielding stone and the fury of the seas.

Yet for all their fervor, the elementals could not topple the Black Empire. No matter how many n’raqi and aqir died, more and more would spawn from the Old Gods’ putrid forms like larvae from a hive. The n’raqi and the aqir engulfed the land like an unstoppable pestilence, shattering the elementals’ forms.

In the end, the Old Gods enslaved the elementals and their lords. Without the native spirits to counter the n’raqi and the aqir, the borders of the Black Empire crept over much of the desiccated world. Perpetual twilight descended upon Azeroth, and the world spiraled into an abyss of suffering and death.