Was it summer or winter; spring or autumn? Hard to tell, for the magically enchanted forests of Quel'thalas were covered by an everlasting, tranquil spring. Being under the protection of the High Elves for more than five millennia, the woods had become the shelter of the majestic citadels of silver, mithril and ether.
The borders of the woods had been drawn by the elves long time ago. Having driven the Amani Trolls away, they claimed the newfound land as their own, and shaped it to their will. Many citadels had been erected across the land, but by far, the most impressive were the three capitol cities of Silvermoon, Silvercrest and Silverwish. Each of these was an important center of the elven society, now ruled by a triarchy that had been born only few decades ago.
The capitol city of Silvermoon was born first, and it remained ever since a center of economical and military power. Presently, it is being ruled by the council known as the Silver Circle, led by the king Anasterian Sunstrider. Even though it had more power in the past, today the Silver Circle is only part of a triarchy with the ability to control the economy and prosperity of the kingdom.
Into the core of the city, there is a nexus of incredible powers known as the Sunwell. Created long time ago, and imbued with the waters of the lost Well of Eternity, the Sunwell is the present source of the magical powers of the High Elves. Through it, they gained control and became adepts of the Arcane Magic, powerful yet perilous branch. Apparently easy to control, it will cause a painful and unstoppable addiction, followed by an eternal hunger for mana.
Our story begins with the visit of a messenger sent from far away by destiny itself. Regretting the sins of the past, Medivh, the Last Guardian is now in a crusade of healing the wounds he himself had opened. Wielding great powers, it is believed that he is able to view into time and predict the potential future. As the shadow approaches the world, he still believes that he may dispel it away.
In the shape of a raven, he approaches Silvercrest, for his warnings had already been rejected by the Silver Circle. From high above the sky, he could clearly see the high towers of the city. The blue beacons of light that swirled around them suggested the high magic activity that was taking place. As he approached more, Medivh could see now the elven houses, made out of marble and ether. Their design was truly magnificent, proof of the elven talent into architecture and sculpture.
By far the most impressive building was the palace. Located into the center of the city, it had not more, and not less than 107 towers and statues representing unicorns, dragons and other creatures could be admired at the top of each tower. The castle itself was surrounded by a red-silvery magical shroud capable of absorbing curses and malefic spells and at the center of the palace the Elithano Mirror took shelter. Known as a projector of high intensity, it was capable of amplifying the magical abilities of all the Quel'dorei.
As he knew perfectly well that not even his skills could penetrate the shroud, Medivh had no alternative but to ask for an audience. The seven guards protecting the entrance, five warmages and two sorcerers took defensive positions as Medivh transformed. The warmages raised their swords as the eyes of the sorcerers bursted into a green light.
"Ishnu-a-lah stranger", said one of the two sorcerers. "What do you seek from the Quel'dorei"
"Magrash Keth'thaljr." replied Medivh. "I have no time for explanations. Send a word to your master. Tell him that the Guardian seeks audience and that it is urgent." He was definitely growing impatient.
"And how do we know that you are the Guardian?" asked the second sorcerer on a mocking tone. "I suppose that we could test you." He raised his right hand and started chanting.
"Fools. I told you I've not time for these games." Medivh was definitely getting angry. He knew that the High Elves were arrogant, but this was becoming extremely irritating. "The fate of this world is at hand and you want to test me? I need not prove myself to anyone. Bestro-ni-thal nathor!" The last words he spoke out loud with a demonic voice. He pointed at the sky and out of thin air, a rune of fire appeared. "Is this good enough for you"
"The castle is protected by powerful enchantments." mumbled one of the warmages. "If by any means shall you make any attempts-" But he could not speak any further as Medivh had cast a silencing curse upon him.
"I think I can handle it.", he replied, and entered.
The interior of the castle was no worse. Though he had visited many places in this world (and not only), Medivh's eyes smiled into the blue light that brightened his face. Enchanted lamps levitated around the numerous marble columns and coats of arms and other decorations stood proudly on the ether walls.
A group of wizards was walking by as they spotted Medivh. The took a glance at his poor clothes and said nothing until they had gone past the corner. Little did they know that the man who they were mocking came to save them. It's true that Medivh had never cared about his appearance. He knew that rich clothes and shiny jewelry would mean nothing in the end. An image of the burning Silvermoon stood for a moment in front of his eyes. The city would soon fall because of the arrogance of the elves.
He reached the throne room, guarded by several Arcane Defenders. Unlike the first guards, their armors were magically enchanted, covered by arcane imbued runes. The Guardian recognized them as being Dwarven. Ironically, the High Elves had claimed that they no longer needed the Alliance as they could take care of themselves yet they continued to use the secrets of the dwarves.
"Ishnu-a-lah stranger.", said the leader of the guards, with a respectful tone. "Whom do you seek?"
"Ishnu-a-lah elf.", Medivh replied calmly. "I am here to see Emelthiron the Great. Tell him that the Guardian wishes to speak with him at once"
"The Guardian? Yes, of course." The man seemed a bit shocked that the stranger in front of him was actually the legend he had heard about only from stories and tales. Infact, very few actually remembered who the Guardian was. Betraying the humanity while still under Sargeras' hand, Medivh had brought the demons and orcs into this world. Now finally free from the corruption, he wanted to undo the mistakes of the past as possible.
"You may proceed"
"Thank you."
Medivh did not have any moment to waste. He stormed into the throne room to find the Council of Azsa'Tharok present. Servants of the light, the members of the council were the core of a larger group, part of a crusade that would banish the shadow from this world. Not long after the Second Wars, when the Alliance was still alive, a group of elves who had witnessed the power of the human Paladins against the orcish demon knights, amazed by the will and courage these warriors had, in order to fight such obnoxious beasts wished to learn their ways. The noble warriors were more than eager to share a common noble cause with the apparently cold-hearted and arrogant elves. A couple of months later, the Order of the Crusaders was born.
The elven crusaders still rely on magic, even though they are fanatic servants of the light. They still control arcane magic but practice mostly its light and fire branches. Though many judge the crusaders as fire is the plane of the demons, crusaders tend to ignore these bad words and study magic as their cause asks. They are highly respected warriors that protect Quel'thalas and serve as its elite whenever necessary.
"What do you want?", asked Emelthiron with the familiar superior tone. The elves could prove to be really annoying. "This better be important because-"
"As a matter of fact it is.", Medivh hastily replied. "The Black Hand draws near. I tell you-"
"You do not interrupt the master.", intervened one of the crusaders with the same tone. Who did they all think they were?
"Yes, indeed. Well... As I was saying, the Black Hand draws near. Quel'thalas is in grave danger. If you are to shield your race you are to head East, to the forgotten land of Kalimdor"
Some of the crusaders burst into laughter, but just for a moment. They all watched Medivh with a grave look, as if he had spoken a forbidden matter.
"And who are you to take this decision, old man?", said Emelthiron and rose his scepter. "The borders of Quel'thalas are heavily protected by powerful enchantments erected by Rommel himself, and our most reliable generals scout the entrance to our kingdom. And if by any impossible way this… Black Hand of yours – he made a gesture with his right hand in the air and left his eyes on the back- could possibly reach the Sparking Palace, there is no way it could get past our own barriers"
"You do not know what you're messing with", Medivh continued. "The Black Hand has already covered the human empire. It's just a matter of time before it will consume your wondrous land. I tell you now that your only chance to survive is to leave this place immediately"
"And what do you expect us to do?", intervened a man behind Emelthiron. His eyes had turned green, sign that he was getting aggressive. "Pack up and leave for the forbidden land? This is-"
"Leave it to me, Methalon.", said Emelthiron interrupting the man. He then turned to Medivh. His eyes were slowly turning yellow. "Even though I... understand your concern oh mighty guardian, – he left a smirk, as his eyes turned back blue- I believe the Highbourne are capable of handling whatever magical power is out there to test us."
"Then I have wasted my time here.", said Medivh disappointed as he shook his head. "I pity your race, for I expected much more from it. May Arius' radiance shine upon you. Ande'thoras ethil." He morphed back into a crow and flew out of the chamber.
Flying on the colored sky, he looked back at Silvercrest. It would be the last time he would have a look at it. "And they had so much potential.", the man said disappointed, before vanishing through the clouds.