The few night elves that survived the horrific explosion rallied together on crudely made rafts and slowly made their way to the only landmass in sight. Somehow, by the grace of Elune, Malfurion, Tyrande and Cenarius had survived the Great Sundering. The weary heroes agreed to lead their fellow survivors and establish a new home for their people.
As they journeyed in silence, they surveyed the wreckage of their world and realized that their passions had wrought the destruction all around them. Though Sargeras and his Legion had been ripped from the world by the Well’s destruction, Malfurion and his companions were left to ponder the terrible cost of victory.
There were many Highborne who did survive the cataclysm unscathed. They made their way to the shores of the new land along with the other night elves. Though Malfurion mistrusted the HIghborne’s motivations, he was satisfied that they could cause no real mischief without the Well’s energies.
As the weary mass of night elves landed upon the shores of the new land, they found that the holy mountain, Hyjal, had survived the catastrophe. Seeking to establish a new home for themselves, Malfurion and the night elves climbed the slopes of Hyjal and reached its windswept summit. As they descended into the wooded bowl, nestled between the mountain’s enormous peaks, they found a small, tranquil lake. To their horror, they found that the lake’s waters had been fouled by magic.
Illidan, having survived the Sundering as well, had reached Hyjal summit long before Malfurion and the night elves. In his mad bid to maintain the flows of magic in the world, Illidan had poured his vials, which contained the precious waters from the Well of Eternity, into the Mountain lake.
The well’s potent energies quickly ignited and coalesced into a new Well of Eternity. The exultant Illidan, believing that the new Well was a gift to future generations, was shocked when Malfurion hunted him down. Malfurion explained to his brother that magic was innately chaotic and that its use would inevitably lead to widespread corruption and strife. Still, Illidan refused to relinquish his magical powers.
Knowing full well where Illidan’s ruthless schemes would eventually lead, Malfurion decided to deal with his power-crazed brother once and for all. With Cenarius’ help, Malfurion sealed Illidan within a vast underground Barrow-prison. Where he would remain chained and powerless until the end of time. To ensure his brother’s containment, Malfurion empowered the young warden, Maiev Shadowsong, to be Illidan’s personal jailor.
Concerned that destroying the new Well might bring about an even greater catastrophe, the night elves resolved to leave it be. However, Malfurion declared that they would never practice the arts of magic again. Under Cenarius’ watchful eye, they began to study the ancient arts of druidism that would enable them to heal the ravaged earth and re-grow their beloved forests at the base of Mount Hyjal.
Madam Eva: “Last night a horrible disturbance rippled through my veins. I sensed that my granddaughter, Alyssa, was in great danger. I consulted the cards and Death stared up at me from the table. After taking a long journey through a dark trance I was able to uncover a clue to this terrifying mystery. A name came to me, the name of Stalvan.
Seek out the Clerk in the Town Hall and see if you can find out more about this character. I fear for us all.”
Clerk Daltry: “Stalvan, eh? Let me check the town registry.
Stalvan. . .Stalvan. . .let’s see. Ah, here we go! I have a record of a Mr. Stalvan Mistmantle. The last recorded address is the Moonbrook Schoolhouse. My, talk about outdated! Do me a favor will you, friend? If you happen to go out to Moonbrook, let me know if you get any update on this fellow. I like to keep the records clean.”
A Dusty Unsent Letter
To the Honorable Headmaster Crillian:
My former Master, I write to you so that you might know what your apprentice has been doing of late paying heed to your advice. I sought to build my knoweldge and wisdom through travel outside the Gates of our beloved Stormwind. My journeys took me to take up residence ere in the lovely lown of Moonbrook. The Surrounding fields of Westfall are most beautiful as the harvest approaches.
Within just a few days of my visit I found myself tutoring the local children from the nearby farmlands. The lessons went so well that the town mayor commissioned me to run a school and construction has begun on a brand new schoolhouse! From Silverpine to Stormwind and now Moonbrook—who would have guessed I would see so much of Azeroth!
Talking later to Clerk Daltry—Darkshire’s Registry—he says that Stalvan Mismantle was heading to The Lion’s Pride Inn in Goldshire.
Clerk Daltry: “Oh my! Must have missed this the first time. In the registry, right beneath the first address for Stalvan there’s another one listed, only partially scratched out. Looks like he was headed to The Lion’s Pride Inn over in Goldshire. Might want to check there”
Innkepper Farley: “The name Stalvan rings a bell. I remember now.
Many years back, on a stormy night, a messenger came in, seeking refuge for the night. Near the stroke of midnight, the man ran down the stairs screaming, his face pale with fear. Still wearing his bedclothes, he disappeared into the downpour.
In his haste he forgot his letters in the chest upstairs. He never returned for them. One remains from that Stalvan fellow, intended for the Canal District in Stormwind. Help yourself to it”
Dear Noble Sir,
Word of your need for a tutor for your children has traveled to me here in Goldshire. Where I take up temporary residence in the Lion’s Pride Inn. Due to the unfortunate state of events in the region, I was forced to abandon my post as Headmaster of the Moonbrook Schoolhouse. Please accept my application to serve as tutor for your offspring. Headmaster Crillian of the Academy can speak to you of my abilities if necessary. I shall travel to meet you in person when the winter rains subside and the roads are suitable for travel once again.
Stalvan Mistmantle of Silverpine
You deliver the unsent letter to who it was meant to be sent—Crillian Flintridge.
Caretaker Folsom: “My father was the caretaker of the estate long before I was. He had to mop the blood up after the massacre. But that’s neither here nor there. The last funds of the Flintridge trust have dried up. Now the last of the family possessions are headed for auction. Blame the tax vultures. I guess if you’re really itching to learn more you’re free to look through this junk. Who knows what you might find.”
Searching on the wooden crates and barrels’ interior in search of any belongins that may unravel the mystery behind Stalvan, you find a torn journal page.
A Torn Journal Page
Giles, the boy, seems a bit rambunctious and will be a challenge to educate. However, the elder daughter Tilloa, seems exceptionally smart. I couldn’t help but to notice her captivating beauty as well. She is on the cusp of womanhood now. Supposedly the Lord has arranged her marriage for next year. But I disgress. This week I will accompany the family to their summer cottage near the Eastvale Logging Camp in Elwynn, close to the Redridge Mountains. I hope to write more while there.
While at Eastvale Logging Camp you find Marshal Haggard
Marshall Haggard: “There was a bundle of parchments in the chest upstairs when I moved into this place. I looked at them once when I first arrived but I gave up once the fog hazed over my peepers. Do an old, nearly-blind man a favor and check the chest upstairs for anything that might help you in your quest to discover more about this Stalvan character. I’m pretty sure there’s a faded journal page that might be of interest to you. Bring it to me and I’ll help in anyway I can.”
A Faded Journal Page
Most strange and uncontrollable feeling. Never have I felt the way I did today. Whilst assisting Giles with his history lesson, Tilloa was outside tending to the flower garden. After a few minutes she came inside and placed a scarlet begonia in my open palm and smiled at me in such a way that my heart felt as though it was trembling within my chest …
Marshal Haggard: “I know of someone who might be able to assist you. Back when I was leading the Stormwind Guard, we used to get drinks at the Scarlet Raven Tavern in Darkshire. The Innkeeper there, Smitts, was quite an expert on the local lore. Show him this page and see what he has to say about it.”
Tavernkeep Smitts: “I followed the legend of that Stalvan character for years. When those visiting nobles were slaughtered a few years back I went with Haggard to investigate. I found these muddy pages but we were never able to link the handwriting to that crazy man in the woods. Your trail of evidence proves his guilt. Take this to Commander Ebonlocke immediately and fill her in on what you’ve discovered!”
Commander Althea Ebonlocke: “My, you have proved yourself to be a quite detective. I have had my eye on that creep. Stalvan, for quite sometime. But if this page was written by the same hand it proves his guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. Stalvan Mistmantle led a life of depravity. Innocent victims died by his hand. Undoubtedly he is guilty of countless crimes. Now the lunatic threatens Darkshire. The Light only knows what sordid acts he is plotting. Travel to his cottage just north of town, Priest, and execute Stalvan, once and for all. When the deed is done, travel to Madame Eva’s and show her his family ring. After all, it was her premonition that led to this gruesome discovery. But Darkshire is safer because of her.”
Madame Eva: “Stalvan is dead. I sensed a wave of hope ripple through the tainted forest. Once and for all, Duskwood is free from his blood thirst. My joy is hampered by thoughts of those who fell prey to the horrible beast. Nonetheless, you are brave and cunning.”
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Stoutmantle—Some nerve sending a total stranger to discuss the Defias Gang. Once you saved my life and now you put it in great peril. But I owe you. The Defias Brotherhood is larger than you think. Every mine from Westfall to Elwynn Forest is under their control. Kobolds and Gnolls have been enlisted to do their dirty work. they have goblins crafting metal monsters to place in the Westfall fields to prey on the superstitions of the local residents.
They have a vast underground network built. Bigger than you know Stoutmantle. From Booty Bay right to Stormwind Keep. You may be a brave Paladin but you are a fool if you think you can shut them down. They are working on a weapon of mass destruction. After all, if there’s one thing Stonemasons know, it’s how to build big. You didn’t think this was about pumpkin farms and vineyards. Now did you? I repaid your favor. Now leave me be!
Gryan Stoutmantle: “I wonder what Wiley meant when he mentioned the Stonemasons. Perhaps that was a slip of tongue. Could the Defias gang be related to the Stonemasons? Only one man would know for sure: Mathias Shaw, head of SI:7 Show him Wiley’s Note and see if he has anything to add to this growing mystery. If you have trouble finding Shaw, check the Barracks in Old Town.”
Mathias Shaw: “This matter might be more complex than Stoutmantle realizes. The Stonemason’s Guild was run by a man named Edwin VanCleef. VanCleef was responsible for rebuilding Stormwind after the orcs razed it in the First War. Apparently, VanCleef and his men were unhappy with their treatment by the King after the reconstruction was complete. That just might explain a thing or two.
I have written a more detailed account for your Master in Westfall. Take this to him at once!”
Lord Stoutmantle, led by Edwin VanCleef, the Stonemason’s Guild was composed of the most skilled builders among men. The Stonemasons helped to rebuild the broken city of Stormwind that was razed by the orcs during the First War. VanCleef and his tradesmen were peerless builders and their work and artistry was evident in the edifices of the Cathedral of Light and Stormwind Keep itself. However, the nobles of Stormwind ran up a huge debt by expanding the kingdom’s military presence thorugh Elwynn and into Stranglethorn. The massive debt crippled the Kingdom’s economy and stripped VanCleef and his stonemasons of their promised rewards. After spending years toiling to rebuild the glorious city, the Stonemasons were left broke. Forgotten by the City’s corrupt officials.
Having personally known Edwin VanCleeff my entire life, I can tell you that facing him as a foe is quite a daunting task. You see, he was my childhood friend, and personally trained him in the ways of the shadows thinking that one day he might consider a career alongside me. If VanCleef is heading up the Defias Brotherhood, may the Light have mercy of our souls.
—Master Mathias Shaw
Stormwind Assassin’s Guild
Gryan Stoutmantle: “Edwin VanCleef … I know the name well. To think that a man so industrious and talented could turn into such a scoundrel unnerves me. I’ll need further proof before I believe this. We need to discover the location of the Defias hideout. My scout reports that a Defias messenger has been seen on the roads between Moonbrook, the Gold Coast Quarry and the Jangolode Mine. I want you to capture him. If he resists, kill him and bring me whatever he is carrying.”
“This is indeed firm proof that VanCleef is in charge. Now all we need to know is where the Defias gang is hiding out. We’ve had a stroke of luck while you were gone. We captured a thief trying to steal Saldean’s wagon. He has promised to lead us to the hideout in exchange for his life. I want you to defend the traitor so he can reveal the hideout. Return to me once you have uncovered the location.”
“There is but one task left for you to complete. Edwin VanCleef must be assassinated. While it saddens me to condemn any man to a death sentence, it is for the greater good of the people of Westfall that VanCleef is laid to rest once and for all. Bring me the villain’s head once the deed is done.”
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I started this journal so I could keep notes on my quest to help Ashenvale. There is a mystery to some of the events that occurred not too long ago. And hopefully I will be able to unravel some of it in order to help my people.
Let me start by putting down facts so they don’t slip my mind at a later date. I’ve recently found hruth to he rumors of the wizard Dartol’s efforts. Where once I thought it preposterous that a human would come to our lands and learn our ways, this wizard, his evil man, came here and not only survived, but also gained some of our knowledge. I’m still uncerain how …
I never discovered his goals during my investigation, but his plan seemed simple: using druidic magic. He wanted to befriend and then control the furbolg. If it was in an attempt to harm my kin, or for some other malicious purpose, I hope to find out before my path ends.
Regardless, he was apparently more successful than naught in actualizing his plans. Did he want to attempt his machinations on the Furbolg before trying on my people? Did the furbolg have something he coveted? Who knows?
Using an iem he created (a rod or staff of some kind) he atemped to infilrae he furbolg tribes of Ashenvale. At some point, and his is where many of the details are still unclear, he was discovered by the furbolg while trying to manipulate hem ino acting against one another. As I’m sure the elves would be, the furbolg were angered, but they reacted much more strongly and killed Dartol.
The furbolg, at least at this time, weren’t the same corrupted creatures they’ve become. They were stil rational and intelligent—their relationship with our people amicable.
I’m hoping that iff I can recreate the rod with the help of a dryad named Shael’dryn, I can use its power to help our people … and the furbolg. Not all the furbolg have been corrupted. Some still live and try to protect the forest. During their corruption, some of the furbolg fled. Many were killed and others were forced out of their tribes.
I found a venerable furbolg of the Foulweald Tribe living above Lake Mystral—his name is Krolg. I’ve watchewd him for days, and I think if I were to approach him in the guise of a furbolg, I could help him and discover a way to re-establish a bond between our people.
Along with killing Dartol, the furbolg split up the rod into three parts so it couldn’t be used against them again. It has been difficult, but I’ve a good idea where all three parts were placed.
The Gem: The first part of the rod, a glowing gem, was hidden in a shrine in Northwestern Ashenvale, I believe. Now this shrine is the ruins at the center of Lake Falathim. The Sentinels tell me that it’s been inhabited by Murlocs now.
If I can’t find the gem hidden in the shrine, it might be in the possession of one of the Murlocs.
The Shaft Portion: This part of the rod was given to the treants near what is now called Felwood. Neither the furbolg nor my kind could have suspected that such magnificent creatures could ever fall to the corruption that is overtaken the land.
My research tells me that the guardians kept the peice in a small glade locked within a hest. To find out any more, I’ll have to speak to Shael’dryn.
Shael’dryn is a dryad who protects the moonwell northeast of Lake Iris. She refuses to leave the forest or forsake it to the corruption. I know she has the power and knowledge to repair the rod, or to at least tell me how I can do it on my own.
The pommel: The pommel of the rod was given to the druids of Dor’danil. There is one major problem with this though. The druids are dead. Their spirits now inhabit the area and are no longer hospitable.
This may require more investigation. I’m not sure I’m powerful enough to fight the spirits of fmy dead kin … let alone delve into the depths of Dor’danil and find hte pommel.
NOTE: During my preparations in Astranaar, I’ve recently met a dwarf hunter who has spent a good portion of his time in Ashenvale trying to help my people. He came from a place called Stormwind. We spoke over a few ales one night, and his tales have given me new hope of finding the pommel.
He tells me he’s been throughout all of Dor’danil, and he’s never seen a chest or any container that may hold the pommel. He also tells me that rotting slimes have inhabited the area, and they devour almost anything smaller than them. He’s seen them eat tables, sculptures, bears and even gnomes!
The slimes seem to gain a great deal of sustenance from things magical. If the chest holding the pommel was enchanted at all, the slimes might have eaten it.
It’s a gamble, but I have no other cllues at this time … As I find out more, I’ll put the details here: but until then, I shall work on finding the parts of the rod and helping Ashenvale.
—part of the Quest Series: Raene’s Cleansing
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Sentinel Tysha Moonblade was sent by the Circle of Ancients to explore the ancient ruins of Darkshore.
“To the east you will find the ruins of Ameth’Aran. It is now inhabited by the restless spirits of the Highborne that once dwelt within its walls, but once it was a place where the servants of Azshara freely practiced their powerful magics. I was sent to explore the ruins and came across two large tablets, scrawled with the stories of Ameth’Aran and its fall. While I read the runes, I was accosted by the spirits, and fled.
Please, if you can, venture to the ruins and decipher the tablets in my place.”
We have few records from the time around the War of the Ancients, especially near the destruction of the Well of Eternity. Given the upheaval and cataclysmic events that were taking place, it is no big surprise. Thank you. With your help my work here is finished, and I will be able to deliver a full report to the Circle.
The Fall of Ameth’Aran
The earth trembled as the ancient trees in the enchanted forest were uprooted and toppled. The groves and glades tended by the sons and daughters of Cenarius and the stone towers of the children of the stars were brought to the rolling ground. There was our queen. Radiant even in the desperation. In the chaos that was the battles. The enchanted sky changed colors with the discharge of magic. With the explosions that threatened to tear the world asunder.
Brother fought brother, Chosen fought blessed. It was not all the Highborne that fought . Some stood transfixed as the madness took them. Mighty cities and humble towns alike were felled around them.
In Ameth’Aran, all was in ruins. Its people clinging to the ground as though that might spare them from the destruction. It was then that Athrikus Narassin, favored of Azshara appeared to guide them to safety.
With a spell he could protect them. He would say. While around them, brother and sister, father and mother perished. They would have life eternal, and have naught to fear from the Sundering that was to come.
The Lay of Ameth’Aran
Long had the children of the stars dwelled upon the banks of the shimmering waters of the Eternal Well. To all was known that Elune, light of the eternal twilight, aspect and goddess of the moon, dwelt within its waters at such time that she rested from her works. Upon the shores of the Well did the children of the stars, favored of Elune, build their homes even as their gaze was trained ever skyward, into the moonlit night.
Though there were many towns and places of habitation constructed upon the lakeshore, Ameth’Aran and Bashal’Aran villages were the foremost. Having the touch of Azshara, the Kaldorei’s beloved Queen, in their creation. Her favored servitors, those of the Highborne, she brought to the twin towns to reside, and to govern them she placed Athrikus Narassin. Though it would be that he would spend most of his days in his Tower of Althalaxx, some ways removed of the towns.
His second , a mage known of his prowess in the arcane arts as much as with his physical abilities was Asterion, who lived among the people of Bashal’Aran, and went many times to Ameth’Aran to see to the needs and wants of its people.
And so it was upon the shores of the Well of Eternity, the twin towns grew and prospered, while the world beneath the stars fell slowly to madness.
Thundris Windweaver from Auberdine(Darkshore) sends you to investigate. The ruins of Bashal’Aran to the east are overrun with demonic minions. The sprites and satyrs that have taken up residence in the area feed upon the magical energies of the area, their powers growing from continued exposure. Even with that, I have noticed that there is one shrine they will not approach. On the western side of the ruins, atop a small bluff, a strange blue aura permeates… There must be an explanation to the demons’ reluctance. I would like you to investigate it.
Finding the strange blue aura, you find Asterion—second to the service of Athrikus Narassin—is found held prisoner within.
“Ahh … to what could I possibly owe the exceedingly special honor of one such as yourself as company. Truly it says much of my current companions—- with the offense to my hosts, the noble grells and satyrs—that your presence could be considered an improvement.
But please, do not let my uncivil tongue drive you from the place. It has indeed been many years, decades even, since I had civil accompaniment.”
If I were to relate the story of my life, I have no doubt it would surpass the limits of your patience. Let us say that mine has been a long and painful life, and this spectral form is perhaps the worst torment of all.
I am held here by the means of magic. Though my words may seem disingenuous, I assure you I would be grateful beyond words if you would help me find the means of my imprisonment. A seal binds me, and by examining the earpieces of the sprites and grells, I may find a trace of it.
Once I have the earrings, I will cast the spell to search for the whereabouts of the seal that binds me. For centuries I have thought on the freedom destroying the seal would bring to me … Perhaps those centuries have taken a toll upon my mind that I might never recover …
Indeed … the grells of Bashal’Aran do not possess that which I am searching … however they have come into contact with it recently. Recently … I would reckon that by your time, not mine. Recent for me stretches into the veil of the past, almost another Age …
If the grells have come into close contact with the seal that binds my eternal prison, I suspect I know the cause. No doubt the seal has come into the possession of the satyr that lead them. I feel strongly that this must be true. One of the satyr must surely possess it. If you can obtain it, you would bring me so close to passing the bars of my prison that tears would come to my eyes.
Obtain the Ancient Moonstone Seal and bring it to Asterion in Bashal’Aran.
The pillars of this shrine are as the bars of a prison to me. No strength I still possess might break them, and no magic I wield might destroy them … For a thousand years and more I have stared at them, wondering if at long last I outlived even the stone, would I be free? Or would it be invisible bars that held me then …
The Ancient Moonstone Seal? It … it is hard for me to even believe that what I hold now is that which has held me for so long. Le us waste no time. When the seal is destroyed, I might walk the forests of the earth freely again.
It was the craft of one of the most powerful of the Highborne that created the seal that formed my prison. In Ameth’Aran, the ruins to the south that are twin to these, persists even today an ancient flame, blue in color. In this flame this seal could be destroyed. Be wary in the ruins.
I am freed. I can now see with my own eyes the changes that have come to our world … only bits and pieces have I known. To think that when I last walked freely, the Well still stood and the Highborne held court with Azshara, our beloved queen.
I sense that my jailor, my former master, Athrikus, still lives … Already my feelings of hopelessnes will give way into thoughts of vengeance.
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As you can see, the unadorned seal has three empty sockets. Each of those sockets must be filled with a gemstone representing the leadership’s command. Finally, Overlord Wyrmthalak, master of the lower citadel, must forge the seal in the flames of the Black Dragonflight. Understand this, mortal: the chance that one of the three generals of the lower citadel would carry a gemstone at any given time is rare. You must be vigilant in your quest. Remain determined!
Find the three gemstones of command: The Gemstone of Smolderthorn, Gemstone of Spirestone, and Gemstone of Bloodaxe. Return them, along with the Unadorned Seal of Ascension, to Vaelan. The Generals, as told to you by Vaelan, are: War Master Voone of the Smolderthorn; Highlord Omokk of the Spirestone; and Overlord Wyrmthalak of the Bloodaxe.
At last – one among you is worthy of my knowledge. Worry not – I have probed your thoughts, no harm will come to you. Listen carefully, for the lord of Blackrock will surely destroy you, should you not be prepared.
Do not bring it any closer, mortal. I can sense the evil coursing through the seal from where I stand. Give me a moment to inspect the item – hold it firmly. Courage and patience above all else, mortal!
(Vaelan’s image blurs for a moment)
(The pieces that you had collected have disappeared)
The unforged Seal of Ascension is now ready. It is time for the final step. I have discerned the path that you must take. Are you prepared?
Few of the black dragonkin, outside of those in the upper citadel, have the ability to forge the seal with their own flaming breath. Wyrmthalak is one such dragonkin, but his will is unbreakable. You must travel to the Wyrmbog in Dustwallow Marsh. It is there that you will find an ancient drake known as Emberstrife. You must break his will, Morag. Break it and use this orb on his weakened form. You will have scant seconds to control his mind and fan the flames that will forge the seal.
Travel to the Wyrmbog in Dustwallow Marsh. Find the ancient drake, Emberstrife and beat him without mercy until his will is broken. It is at that moment which you must place the Unforged Seal of Ascension before the great beast. You must then be quick to use the Orb of Draconic Energy on his weakened form and claim dominion over his mental faculties. Control the beast and force the Flames of the Black Dragonflight upon the Unforged Seal of Ascension! Waste no time, mortal. Nefarian works feverishly to unleash his evil upon our world.
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Cavindra the Dryad: Legends of Maraudon
A dark satyr called Lord Vyletongue spread his evil through these twisting caves, poisoning the minds of all inside. He still resides beyond the purple crystals.
Vyletongue also created a living symbol of his corruption called Noxxion that dwells beyond the orange crystals. Together, they have stolen the two parts of my brother’s scepter. Celebras, my brother… he wanders blindly inside, cursed by corruption.
You must help him! Find the pieces, and speak to my brother… somehow.
Recover the two parts of the Scepter of Celebras: the Celebrian Rod and the Celebrian Diamond
Celebras the Redeemed
Thank you for what you have done. Keep the scepter safe: may it aid you in your toll against the evils that have invaded this place …
Long ago, my dryad sisters and I entered these caves to free the tortured spirit of my uncle, Zaetar. However, the corruption that had already spread through these caverns soon overcame us, and we too fell.
We were destined to wander these passages; the toxins poisoning our minds … Although my spirit may now be at rest. I know that I have failed in my mission. It is a great sadness I must bear …
My father, Remulos, tried to stop Zaetar. Zaetar was headstrong, and when he fell for an earthen elemental princess, my father knew that their union was cursed, but Zaetar refused to listen.
The centaur are the result of his mistake. They were born misshapen and hateful; my uncle Zaetar was killed by his own kin …
The evil princess, Theradras, still guards his remains here in the crystal caverns of Maraudon.
> Tell me more about the history of Remulos and Zaetar
You ask of the Sons of Cenarius: Remulos and Zaetar. My father, Remulos, was strong and beautiful, and my uncle, Zaetar, very cunning and slight of build. While they were respected quite equally, Zaetar always felt as if he could never quite compare to the glory and attention he thought Remulos had.
After my sisters and I were born, Zaetar, blinded by jealousy, set out to outdo his brother … He was the creator of his own end. The sadness it brings me has never lessened, even as time passes …
Selendras: Corruption of Earth and Seed
Deep in Maraudon lives an evil creature of chaos—Princess Theradras is an elemental force of earth related to the Old Gods. Ages ago, she and Zaetar, first son of Cenarius, began a relationship. The offspring of their time together became known to the people of Kalimdor as centaur. Ever-thankful creatures, the centaur killed Zaetar, and now hold Zaetar’s remains. My quest here is to find those powerful enough to slay Theradras so we may recover Zaetar’s remains before returning to Stonetalon.
Slay Princess Theradras and return to Selendra near Shadowprey Village in Desolace.
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I – I am badly injured …
> You will be ok, Awbee. Your assailants have been terminated.
Liste, Listen well …
The dragon riders came in the night, mounted atop the black flight. They struck fast and with deadly precision, taking young whelps – such as me – and escaping under the veil of darkness.
I watched in horror as they used my brothers and sisters in their experiments. From our essence would be created the chromatic flight.
Nefarian had ordered that unsuitable subjects be destroyed immediately, but these retched beasts would not do so without first inflicting an ample amount of torture.
When we were thoroughly broken, they would round up what remained and throw us to these thugs. Our bodies used as instruments in their sick game: thrown into the lava or worse; to the open and waiting arms of the bloodhirsty legion below.
You came along just as they were about to throw me to the fiends below – for that, I thank you. Perhaps, I rather – we, of the blue flight, can assist you further?
You have come this far, risked much. Will you go a ways further to battle Nefarian and his legion of Blackrock?
Travel to Kalimdor. Our flight makes its home in the frigid landscape of Winterspring. Once you reach Winterspring, find the caves of Mazthoril.
Upon the icy floors of Mazthoril you will find cobalt runes. Hold one of my scales and stand upon a rune and you shall be transported to Haleh, our matron protectorate.
Give her the scale so that she may scry what it is I have seen and felt, here in this doomed place.
Haleh the Matron Protectorate says
We understand what the cursed brood of Deathwing attempts to do and we know that it cannot be allowed.
Because of the protection Blackrock Mountain affords Nefarian, it has become increasingly difficult for us to intercede. We can, however, empower you, mortal – should you so choose. The path before you is one full of peril. You must decide whether to accept our help. Ponder this and speak with me again when a decision has been made.
It is the arcane that I control and the arcane which will send you to your next destination. When you are ready, the journey will begin. To the Plaguelands you will go and to Jeziba you will speak. He is a mortal as wise as the ancients and as patient as the immovable earth. Find him in Andorhal.
Jeziba the Sculptor
A finer instrument of justice, Haleh could not have chosen. Read from the catalogue of the wayward and be enlightened. Should you persist… should you do what is asked of you… should you survive… a hero you will make.
To forge the Legplates of the Chromatic Defier, you will be required to bring the following items to Jeziba the ‘Sculptor’:
1 Chromatic Carapace.
10 Brilliant Chromatic Scales.
10 Blood of Heroes.
5 Skin of Shadow
The carapace of a mature chromatic drake is needed to form the foundation of the leggings. Brilliant chromatic scales are then layered upon the wire frame and enchanted in the blood of heroes. Finally, the supple skin of shadow must be applied to the inner greaves.
To forge the Breastplate of the Chromatic Flight, you will be required to bring the following items to Jeziba the ‘Sculptor’:
1 Chromatic Carapace.
10 Brilliant Chromatic Scales.
10 Blood of Heroes.
10 Frayed Abomination Stitchings
The forging of a powerful breastplate to protect against the unrelenting attacks of the chromatic flight is one built upon irony.
The scales of the very beasts we battle must be sewn to the pristine carapace of an elder chromatic drake or dragon. None are known to exist at this time and we should hope that none will ever exist.
Lastly, perhaps the most difficult of all components: the blood of heroes.
The Sculptor must ultimately forge this creation.
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I need no home to know I still have a place in this world. The tribes will see … all of them. They fight amongst one another, and for what? Scraps left over by vultures … lands infested by the Legion … bah!
The centaur should be proud of their heritage—it is just as noble as any Night elf’s or orc’s—it is time we started acting like it! Though exiled as a heretic, my beliefs still ring true—that alone drives me onward. But for my destiny to be complete, I need the aid of an outsider … one not of any centaur tribe.
The task requires someone to enter the holy halls of Maraudon—a tomb my people protect, and only the most devout are ever allowed to enter.
Can you help me? Will you set foot on holy ground to help me forge one great centaur tribe!? If you agree to aid me, then you need only nod. I will pass you a parchment with my instructions on it. Read it over and consider my words.
The Pariah’s Instructions
Set far back in the Valley of Spears is the holy temple of Maraudon. If that were not transgression enough, you will quickly see why I have asked a non-centaur to aid me in my plight.
There, just beyond the doors where only spirits and our most sacred priests and priestesses may travel is one called The Nameless Prophet. He is hte highest of any tribe in spiritual matters, and is one of the oldest of any tribe.
The prophet is powerful, and communicates with hte spirits of our ancestors. But he is a fool! He has no idea the true power he possesses. On his person is the Amulet of Spirits—it is where most of his strength comes from.
I have learned that the Amulet is powerful, but it is incomplete.
There are five gems missing from the amulet. And if those gems were found and placed back into the symbol, its power would far exceed that of its current form. I have found the five gems, but need one of your skill to help gather them. Slaying the Nameless Prophet is heresy for sure, as is stealing from his corpse, but what I would ask of you next would condemn any centaur for even thinking it.
Throughout the caverns of Maraudon raom the spirits of our first Kahns. Our Mother and Father’s first children. And our greatest Leaders—they are Gelk, Kolk, Magra, Maraudos and Veng. Each of these spirits holds one of the missing gems.
Use the power of the Amulet of Spirits to force them to manisfest and take the gems from them! After, place the gems within the Amulet of Spirits and return it to me. Once I have the Amulet of Union, I will be powerful enough to reform the tribes so we can finally be as our ancestors wanted us to be!
First Kahn: Kolk
Second Kahn: Gelk
Third Kahn: Magra
Fourth Kahn: Maraudos
Fifth Kahn: Veng
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Ranger Captain Alleria Windrunner
Renowned Troll Hunter of Quel’Thalas. Lead Scout and Intelligence Agent for the Alliance Expedition that marched into the orc homeworld of Draenor. Presumed deceased.
Your heart flew straight as any arrow upon the wind, sister. You were the brightest of our Order. You were the most beloved of our kin.
—Sylvanas Windrunner – Ranger General of Quel’Thalas
Archmage Khadgar of the Kiring Tor
Former apprentice of Medivh. Supreme Commander of the Alliance Expedition that marched into the orc homeworld of Draenor. Presumed deceased.
Never did one so selflessly delve into the dark heart of magic and warfare. We wish you well, bold wanderer. Wherever you are.
—Antonidas – Archmage of Dalaran
Renowned Dragon Fighter. Gryphon Master of the Aerie Peak. Commander of the Gryphon Rider Division attached to the Alliance Expedition that marched into the orc homeworld of Draenor. Presumed deceased.
We will hear Sky-Ree’s calls upon the winds. We will hear your hammer thunder across the mountaintops. Ride hard into the hereafter, brother. The halls of our ancestors await you.
—Falstad Wildhammer – Lord of Aerie Peak
Militia Commander of Stromgarde. Tactical Advisor to General Turalyon. Force Commander of the Alliance Expedition that marched into the orc homeworld of Draenor. Presumed deceased.
We honor your memory, nephew, and your sacrifice. Since the founding of our glorious empire, the path to valor has always been drenched with the blood of heroes.
—Thoras Trollbane, Lord of Stromgarde
Former Lieutenant to Lord Anduin Lothar, Knight of the Silver Hand. High General of the Alliance Expedition that marched into the orc homeworld of Draenor. Presumed deceased.
Esarus thar no Darador’ – By blood and honor we serve.
You were the right hand of justice and virtue, old friend. Your name will be honored in our halls always.
—Lord Uther the Lightbringer – Knigt of the Silver Hand
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