"Magic is our birthright. Our people have plumbed the secrets of the arcane since the dawn of our race. And yet, in the wake of our empires collapse, at a time when magical knowledge and understanding should be our only way to prevent such calamity from happening again... our kin shuns this sacred responsibility. So it falls to us, to discover, learn and safeguard ourselves against the magical powers of this world. May we understand and wield what we find with mastery and responsibility." - Dath'remar Sunstrider, revealing the Omnium to his people.

The final page of this journal is splotched and stained as if it were written under the soft patter of rain, the handwriting frantic and rushed. It was my fault Lirath I am so, so sorry I should never have listened, I should never have trained you I should never have indulged your wish Your music brought me nothing but joy and I let you throw it away and I let you try the impossible and now I will never hear it again I will never hear you again I will never, ever forgive myself Ever

The bronze placard shines along its edges, worn down from many years of blood elves coming to pay their respects. Here stands the Shrine of Dath'Remar, a fitting tribute to a noble elf. Let all who gaze on this monument remember his sacrifices for our people and his dedication to the cause of our continued survival. All who prosper in Quel'Thalas do so thanks to him.

A torn page rests here. Instead of a diary or journal, it appears to be a piece of sheet music, unfinished. There's an almost wistful undertone to the tune as you hum it to yourself--it's half an ode to strength, cleverness and battle prowess, while the other half seems a yearning for the same.

She wants nothing more than to dictate my future for me. Why must I cleave my fate to whatever mother wishes? I'm not alone. There are others that feel the same. Quel'Thalas is beautiful, but it is only the smallest part of what's out there. My friends, my confidants... we only wish to fly as free as the arrows from our quivers. The world is so much larger than just these forests. Is that so hard to see? Is it so impossible to believe that anyone would wish to experience more of it?

I can scarcely believe you're gone. They asked me to write something for you, to honor the sacrifice you made. I... cannot think of what to say. Not out loud. Not for them, emblazoned upon a larger than life statue for all to see. Dearest sister, your heart always belonged out there, did it not? How am I supposed to go on without you, Alleria? How am I to lead them, when all I see in their eyes is the grief we all share at losing you?

Ultimately, Sylvanas and her rebel undead (known as the Forsaken) claimed the ruined capital city of Lordaeron as their own. Constructing their own bastion beneath the wrecked city, the Forsaken vowed to defeat the Scourge and drive Kel'Thuzad and his minions from the land.

Weakened, but determined to save his master, Arthas reached Northrend only to find Illidan's naga and blood elves waiting for him. He and his nerubian allies raced against Illidan's forces to reach the Icecrown Glacier and defend the Frozen Throne.

Ner'zhul, the Lich King, knew that his time was short. Imprisoned within the Frozen Throne, he suspected that Kil'jaeden would send his agents to destroy him. The damage caused by Illidan's spell had ruptured the Frozen Throne; thus, the Lich King was losing his power daily. Desperate to save himself, he called his greatest mortal servant to his side: the death knight Prince Arthas.

Though his powers were drained by the Lich King's weakness, Arthas had been involved in a civil war in Lordaeron. Half of the standing undead forces, led by the banshee Sylvanas Windrunner, staged a coup for control over the undead empire. Arthas, called by the Lich King, was forced to leave the Scourge in the hands of his lieutenant, Kel'Thuzad, as the war escalated throughout the Plaguelands.

Thinking Cap Components - Thought Calculating Apparatus - Clinkyclick Shatterboom - Engineering Trainer - * Loves the local Thuderspine Nest dish Erugosa makes here at the inn. Downy Liner - Gryffin - Clinkyclick's Assistant * Loves a toothy Fresh Tyranha, found swimming in the Cascades below Valdrakken. Crystal Ocular Lenses - Shakey Flatlap - * Loves our local Dragon's Hoard bar a bit too much, high tab. Fangli Hoot's Current Location: Room next to the Barber Shop. Does not like to stay in one place too long, so need to catch her here.

Kathos, another artifact has come up in confiscated notes from recent looters. This time they reference the Idol of Ohn'ahra. It is said to be an ancient artifact whose keen eyes can quickly spot nearby treasures. If the location of this artifact is compromised, we must secure it quickly before it gets into the hands of looters. The notes we found referenced 3 Incense Braziers that must be lit for the location of the Idol to be uncovered. The notes also had the Eternal Kurgans underlined, so the incense and the idol must lie within the burial mounds in the Ohn'ahran Plains, southwest of Teerakai. Hurry, you and your new associates must find the idol before it is too late.

WE DID NOT CHOOSE THIS FATE THE MISTS CLOSED IN THE PRIESTS KNEW THE PRIESTS KEEP SECRETS WE WILL NOT SURVIVE I CARVE MY LAST WORDS I EXISTED I WAS BETRAYED FROM MY SWEAT AND SACRIFICE THE PRIESTS LIVE AND I WILL NOT - TAN'ZEK THE ABANDONED

CURSE THE AMANI CURSE THE PRIESTS CURSE THE WARRIORS WE ARE ABANDONED THE MASONS THE LABORERS WE ARE THE SACRIFICE TO ENSURE AMANI SAFETY WE ARE ABANDONED TO THE MIST NO GLORY AWAITS US ONLY FANGS ONLY DEATH

It is said that much later, as the world entered a new age, mysterious guardians arrived who dedicated their lives to protecting the roots. But that is a tale for another time. Now let us stand with our allies to defend Amirdrassil, crown of harmony. Together, we will preserve this symbol of hope. This symbol of the future.

As the forces of the titans waged war against the Black Empire, Eonar bid her keeper, Freya, to watch over the crater and nurture the life that blossomed there. Below ground, the roots fed upon the tears of Eonar and grew strong. The war was long, but in the end, the titans claimed victory. And Eonar was pleased, knowing Elune's legacy would endure.

Seeking to bring hope and healing, our patron titan, Eonar, carried a gift given to her by Elune--a branch of G'Hanir, the mother world tree. The titan believed that the influence of Life would drive the darkness away. So she reached down her hand and shaped the soil of Azeroth, planting the branch where it could be fed by river and sky.

The branch swiftly grew into a tree, its roots extending deep, deep below the surface. Eonar smiled, for everywhere the roots stretched, new life emerged. She called the tree Elun'Ahir, in honor of her great love. When Aman'Thul saw what Eonar had done, he chided her. "This is not Order!" he bellowed. "You have infected this world with uncontrolled chaos!" The Highfather took hold of the world tree's trunk and tore it from the earth.

Long before the first dragons drew breath, Azeroth was conquered by writhing horrors that plummeted from the skies and infested our world. The Old Gods. How long the reign of their Black Empire lasted, we cannot know. Surely it must have been a time of unimaginable suffering. But at long last, there came hope.

As we gather to defend Amirdrassil, we cannot help but recall the tragic fates of world trees past. Those lost to sacrifice. To corruption. To flame. Yet there is an ancient tale--some claim it merely a legend--that tells of an earlier world tree that also met a sorrowful fate. Though it lived only a short time, its legacy endures.

Eonar wept bitter tears that rained down upon the resulting crater. But as she peered down upon the sundered earth, the titan realized a truth she did not share with the Highfather. Though he had destroyed the tree, its winding roots still held firm beneath the soil, hidden from Aman'Thul's gaze.

The brave titan Aggramar discovered Azeroth, shining like a beacon in the Great Dark. As he gazed upon the beauty and power of its slumbering soul, he realized it was imperiled. He told the other members of the Pantheon how the world they sought had been corrupted by the Old Gods. The titans gathered to eradicate this dark influence.

<There are no other entries.>

<This journal has faded and the ink has run from being submerged in water.> From the logbook of boson Khan'yee. We are sailing in circles. The storm drove toward the shore, within sight of elven lands. Rather than risk confrontation, the captain took us close to Zul'Aman. We knew the risks, not of the forest, but of the island. The island no one comes back from. The winds were the first to betray us. They pushed us toward the mist, changing as we tried to tack away from certain doom. The air felt wrong. It was foul smelling and acrid--it would sting the eyes and fester wounds.

The currents and tides changed next. Pulling us toward the rocks. Pulling us toward that Island. With wind and waves working together to sink the ship, the crew panicked. They fought each other more than the forces that intended to dash us against the rocks. The hull has been holed, but still we are dragged in. The mists surround us. I can see something on the shore writhing in the sand. We will have to leave the wreckage of our once fine ship. Hopefully the rumors of this place prove false.

Alexstrasza the red, Ysera the green, and Nozdormu the bronze descended upon the druids' tranquil glades and surveyed the fruits of the night elves' labors. Malfurion, who had become an arch-druid of immense power, greeted the mighty dragons and told them about the creation of the new Well of Eternity.

Nozdormu, the Timeless, placed an enchantment upon the World Tree to ensure that as long as the colossal tree stood, the night elves would never age or fall prey to sickness or disease.

With the absence of trolls in the northlands, the elves of Quel'Thalas bent their efforts towards rebuilding their glorious homeland. The victorious armies of Arathor returned home to southlands of Strom.

In a last-ditch effort, Doomhammer and his lieutenants staged a daring charge from the Spire and clashed with Lothar's paladins in the center of the Burning Steppes. Doomhammer and Lothar squared off in a titanic battle that left both mighty combatants battered and drained. Though Doomhammer narrowly succeeded in vanquishing Lothar, the great hero's death did not have the effect the warchief had hoped for.

For many years, the night elves worked tirelessly to rebuild what they could of their ancient homeland. Leaving their broken temples and roads to be overgrown, they constructed their new homes amidst the verdant trees and shadowed hills at Hyjal's base. In time, the dragons that had survived the great Sundering came forth from their secret abodes.

The great dragons were alarmed to hear the dark news and speculated that as long as the Well remained, the Legion might one day return and assault the world once again. Malfurion and the three dragons made a pact to keep the Well safe and ensure that the agents of the Burning Legion would never find their way back into the world.

After a few months the superstitious peasantry began to suspect that their sorcerous rulers were hiding something terrible from them. Rumors of revolution began to sweep through the streets of Dalaran as the paranoid citizenry questioned the motives and practices of the magicians they had once admired. The Magocrats, fearing that the peasants would revolt and that Strom would take action against them, turned to the only group they felt would understand their particular problem: the elves.

Turalyon, Lothar's most trusted lieutenant, took up Lothar's bloodstained shield and rallied his grief-stricken brethren for a vicious counterattack. Under the ragged standards of both Lordaeron and Azeroth, Turalyon's troops slaughtered the bulk of Doomhammer's remaining forces in a glorious, but terrible rout.

Alexstrasza, the Lifebinder, placed a single, enchanted acorn within the heart of the Well of Eternity. The acorn, activated by the potent, magical waters, sprung to life as a colossal tree. The mighty tree's roots grew from the Well's waters, and its verdant canopy seemed to scrape the roof of the sky.

Ten thousand years before the orcs and humans clashed in their First War, the world of Azeroth cradled only one massive continent surrounded by the infinite, raging seas. That land mass, known as Kalimdor, was home to a number of disparate races and creatures, all vying for survival amongst the savage elements of the waking world. At the dark continent's center was a mysterious lake of incandescent energies.

The sinister agents of the Burning Legion, who had been banished when the Well of Eternity collapsed, were lured back into the world by the heedless spellcasting of the magicians of Dalaran. Though these relatively weak demons did not appear in force, they did sew considerable confusion and chaos within the streets of Dalaran.

As the empire grew and expanded into new lands, the young magicians also spread out into the southlands. Wielding their mystical powers, the magicians protected their brethren from the wild creatures of the land and made it possible for new city-states to be constructed in the wilderness. Yet, as their powers grew, the magicians became ever more conceited and isolated from the rest of society.

The second Arathorian city-state of Dalaran was founded in the lands north of Strom. Many fledgling wizards left the restraining confines of Strom behind and traveled to Dalaran, where they hoped to use their new powers with greater freedom. These magicians used their skills to build up the enchanted spires of Dalaran and reveled in the pursuit of their studies.

Most of these demonic encounters were isolated events, and the ruling Magocrats did what they could to keep such events hidden from the public. The most powerful magicians were sent to capture the elusive demons, but they often found themselves hopelessly outmatched by the lone agents of the mighty Legion.

The Council of Silvermoon, which ruled over the elves of Quel'Thalas, entered into a secret pact with the Magocrat lords of Dalaran. The elves told the Magocrats about the history of ancient Kalimdor and of the Burning Legion, a history which still threatened the world. They informed the humans that so long as they used magic, they would need to protect their citizenry from the malicious agents of the Legion.

The Alliance armies led by Sir Anduin Lothar, Uther the Lightbringer, and Admiral Daelin Proudmoore pushed the orcs south into the shattered land of Azeroth - the first kingdom to fall before the orcs' ruthless onslaught. The Alliance forces under Sir Lothar managed to push Doomhammer's clans out of Lordaeron and back into the orc-controlled lands of Azeroth. Lothar's forces surrounded the orcs' volcanic citadel of Blackrock Spire and laid siege to their defenses.

The citizens of Dalaran tolerated the magicians' endeavors and built up a bustling economy under the protection of their magic-using defenders. Yet, as more and more magicians practiced their arts, the fabric of reality around Dalaran began to weaken and tear.

Rule 4: The venom will get you. You will not survive. But hungry castaways die faster. That may be for the best. Reflect on how you want to go. The venom is not peaceful, but it is quick.

The human society of Arathor grew and prospered, yet Thoradin, fearful that his kingdom would splinter apart if it overextended itself, maintained that Strom was the center of the Arathorian empire. After many peaceful years of growth and commerce, mighty Thoradin departed on one final quest, never to return, leaving Arathor's younger generation free to expand the empire beyond the lands of Strom.

Rule 3: Burn your meat. Cooking your meal is good. Burning your meal is better. Fire will purge what venom has seeped into the flesh. Be patient. Let the snake char. It won't taste good, but you will survive the meal.

Rule 2: Beware the sacs. Cut off not just the head--cut off the neck. Where is the neck on a snake? Choose to risk hunger rather than risk eating a venom sac. Eat from the tail up until you learn where the lowest sac is on the body. You will discover where this line is when your friend gives in to their hunger and dies.

The original hundred magi, who were tutored in the ways of magic by the elves, expanded their powers and studied the mystic disciplines of spell-weaving in much greater detail. These magi, initially chosen for their strong wills and noble spirits, had always practiced their magic with care and responsibility; however, they passed their secrets and powers onto a newer generation that had no concept of the rigors of war or the necessity for self-restraint.

<A faded and waterlogged journal written in ancient Zandalari script.> There are only snakes to eat on this accursed island. What little edible plants we find will not sate our hunger. We thought the Amani conquered these lands. But we must hunt. We must eat. And there are only snakes. If you find this journal, you must be trapped here as well. You might be Zandalari, or from our ships. Let me help you, my brothers and sisters. Let me teach you how to survive a day longer than the crew of the Golden Sunrise. Rule 1: The head will kill you, even in death. If you survive the hunt and kill the snake, beware the head. It will bite. Even when dead. Even when removed. It will lunge at you and pierce your flesh. It will inject you with its venom. Even removed from the body, it will bite. Bury it before you cook the body.

The devastating Second War against the orcish horde left the Alliance of Lordaeron in a state of shock and disarray. The bloodthirsty orcs, led by the mighty warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer, not only smashed their way through the dwarf-held lands of Khaz Modan, but had razed many of Lordaeron's central provinces as well. The unrelenting orcs even succeeded in ravaging the elves' remote kingdom of Quel'Thalas before their rampage was finally stopped.

Upon hearing the Magocrats' news of demonic activity in Dalaran, the elves quickly dispatched their mightiest wizards to the human lands. The elven wizards studied the energy currents in Dalaran and made detailed reports of all demonic activity that they beheld. They concluded that although there were only a few demons loose in the world, the Legion itself would remain a dire threat so long as humans continued to wield the forces of magic.