After the Fall of Lordaeron
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Prologue: Difficult Decisions
After the treacherous Prince Arthas Menethil slew his father, laid waste to the high elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas, and summoned the demon lord Archimonde (which resulted in the total destruction of the great magic city of Dalaran), the nation of Lordaeron was in a state of complete panic and chaos. The foul undead army of the Scourge gained more and more power as they used their unparalleled power of necromancy to raise the corpses of the humans, forest trolls, and high elves they killed into their service. Their necromancers and alchemists infected the crops of Lordaeron with the Plague of Undeath, which transformed all who consumed it into mindless servants of the Scourge within hours. Many towns across the land formed militias to defend themselves from the undead hordes, for the armies were stretched too thin.
In Kul'Tiras, the young mage Jaina Proudmoore convinced any who would listen to follow the advice of the mysterious prophet Medivh and head across the Great Sea to the land of Kalimdor. Medivh had suggested this to the leaders of Lordaeron as soon as the hints of the Plague first appeared a year ago. He had warned them of the plague and the Scourge, and predicted the demise of humanity if his words were not heeded. He had been dismissed as a madman. Even now, as the circumstances now proved the truth of his words beyond a shadow of a doubt, many were hesitant to trust Jaina's judgment.
"There has to be another way!" the paladin Davil Crockford protested. "Even if this 'prophet' is right, we cannot just abandon our homeland!"
"What about our families?" asked the Darrowshire militia leader, Joseph Redpath. "How can we expect them to just leave the land they've called home for generations?"
"It doesn't look like it will be our home for much longer," the grand admiral of Kul'Tiras and father to Jaina, Daelin Proudmoore, said grimly. "This is unlike any threat we've ever faced."
"Did we not also say the same thing about the orcs and the Horde?" demanded the paladin Alexandros Mograine. "It seemed very dark then, did it not? We were outnumbered then as well, but we formed an alliance with all of the human nations as well as with the high elves and the dwarves—"
"The high elven kingdom was barely breached in the Second War!" interrupted Arugal, the Archmage of the Kirin'Tor. "This time it fell in a matter of weeks! Our own prince has betrayed us!"
At this, the high elven prince, Kael'Thas Sunstrider, spoke angrily to Jaina. "Indeed! A fine judge of character you've turned out to be? Why should we trust your judgment?"
"Watch it, elf!" shouted Admiral Garithos, his face turning red. "You're a fool if you think you can speak to the Grand Admiral's daughter like that!"
Kael'Thas's eyes flashed angrily. "I'm the fool? You're not exactly full of intelligence yourself! Let's not forget that without the help of my people, yours would have been decimated by the Horde!"
"Oh really?" Garithos spat. "Well then, prince, where were your people when the Scourge came to Lordaeron?"
"They hardly seemed like a threat at the time!" Kael'Thas protested. "Besides, we already saved your kingdom once. We hardly owed you a favor!"
"What does this have to do with favors?" Garithos demanded. "This was a matter between right and wrong. Even though our alliance was ended shortly after the Second War, we assumed you people would have a sense of honor when it came too—"
"It doesn't matter now, anymore." Daelin interrupted, his expression growing grimmer. "Quel'Thalas has been decimated. The government of Lordaeron barely exists anymore and even Dalaran is gone. We've sent envoys to Ironforge, Stormwind, Arathor, and Gilneas for help. Even if we can reform the alliance, we have little change against this Scourge."
"That's why I implore you all to come with me to Kalimdor," Jaina continued, trying not to sound desperate. "Even if you don't believe in the prophet, you have to realize it may be our only chance of survival!"
Kael'Thas stood up and glared at everyone in the room. "I see no reason to go to Kalimdor. My people were exiled from that place ten thousand years ago by the Night Elves."
Looks of confusion spread across the faces of everyone attending.
Kael'Thas sighed. "Honestly," he said exasperatedly, "you people are planning on going to a country you know nothing about? The night elves don't accept outsiders easily. You'll find no help from them!"
"We don't help from any elves!" Garithos said pompously.
"Watch it…" Daelin said warningly, but Kael'Thas did not seem offended. In fact, he was beginning to smirk.
"Typical," he sneered. "Well, you can all go ahead to Kalimdor if you want. I'm staying right here to find what remains of my people! I won't rest until I have my revenge!"
With that, Kael'Thas turned and walked out of the keep in a huffy manner.
Jaina sighed. She knew how Kael'Thas felt. Seeing a trusted ally turn on you…seeing your people slaughtered like animals…
Joseph Redpath rose from the table. "It may seem hopeless," he said solemnly. "But I can't leave my homeland. I will fight the Scourge with all my soul."
"I concur!" agreed Davil Crockford.
"The Order of the Silver Hand may have disbanded," Alexandros Mograine stated, "but there are still plenty of survivors. I'll gather all the paladins I can find and help defend Lordaeron!"
"I can't leave," Arugal growled. "With Antonidas dead, I'm the leader of the Kirin'Tor, and I will have the Scourge destroyed by whatever means necessary!"
Jaina sighed again. Somehow she knew that she wouldn't be able to convince everyone to come with her, but it broke her heart knowing that these people were choosing to fight a hopeless battle.
"This is not an easy decision to make," Daelin said. "But I believe that my daughter is right. I myself will try to stay as long as I can, but I'll convince as many as possible to follow her to Kalimdor!
After a month of recruiting, Jaina had gathered up all who would agree to leave Lordaeron for the unknown land of Kalimdor.
As she boarded the vessel and watched as people paced restlessly on the fleet of ships her father had prepared, she felt a complex mix of emotions. She admired the people who chose to stay and bravely fight against all odds, but at the same time she resented their stubbornness and inability to see the futility of their actions. She was happy that she got as many people to agree to leave for Kalimdor as she did, but she also felt uncertain about the whole thing. Would these people truly be any better off?
Jaina also worried about her father, who was staying behind to defend Kul'Tiras and vowed to follow her only when he was certain it was lost.
Most of all, she still felt the sting of Arthas' betrayal. She had watched him change from a headstrong but honorable and idealistic young man to a crazed, angry extremist. She couldn't believe it when he decided to suspend the Order of the Silver Hand and purge the entire city of Stratholme. Although the people had already been infected, surely there was some other way. After that she became frightened of him as his he became more concerned with revenge against Mal'Ganis rather than his duty to protect his kingdom. He was losing his sanity rapidly. She had been worried she would never see him again when he decided to take whoever he could up to Northrend to hunt Mal'Ganis.
And what good became of this? He got his revenge against Mal'Ganis, but sacrificed his soul to the runeblade Frostmourne in order to do so. Worse still, the death of Mal'Ganis accomplished nothing, for he was merely a pawn to higher power known as the Lich King. This same evil being spoke to Arthas through Frostmourne, filling his thoughts with his voice. Arthas quickly lost whatever remained of his sanity and his soul was consumed by Frostmourne.
At first, Jaina had been relieved when she heard that Arthas was returning. The letter he had written to his father explained that he had finally gotten his revenge and that he was ready to "take care of" his kingdom once more. The city of Lordaeron had even thrown a party to welcome their prince home. Jaina had been one of the people in the crowd that day, three months ago. She cheered with everyone as she saw Arthas enter the majestic gates of the city and step across the courtyard towards the palace. As he came closer, however, her happiness faded. Something wasn't right. Instead of looking better, Arthas looked worse than ever. He appeared to have aged twenty years, his normally green eyes had turned ice-blue, and his once wavy blond hair was instead a scraggly white mop. Stranger still, was the fact that he seemed to be hiding his face under a shawl, as though he was trying to keep a dark secret from getting out. Finally, he was carrying not his holy hammer, which had been given to him by Uther the Lightbringer himself, but a devilish looking sword inscribed with sinister runes. The hilt itself was shaped like a skull.
Arthas' behavior as he crossed the courtyard was also disconcerting. Normally Arthas would put his hands up and smile whenever he was being welcomed home like this. But on that day he seemed to pay no attention to the people around him. He was staring straight ahead, towards the palace, with an emotionless expression on his face. He passed right by Jaina without given even the smallest hint of acknowledgement. That was when she knew something was wrong. Arthas was not himself anymore. But nothing could have prepared her for the shock of what happened next.
The cheering continued after Arthas entered the palace. They died down, however, when a loud scream came from inside the walls, followed by the sounds of melee combat. Shortly afterwards, Arthas came running out of the palace, through the courtyard, and out the front gate into Tirisfal Glades. The sinister blade he carried was dripping with blood.
Jaina and the rest of crowd felt a wave of horror rush over as one of the palace guards came out, mortally wounded. Arthas had murdered his father, King Terenas Menethil II, as well as several of his bodyguards. The last words he said before bolting were foreboding and sinister: "This kingdom will fall, and from the ashes shall arise a new kingdom that will shake the very foundations of the world!"
The horror didn't end there. While Jaina returned to Dalaran trying to absorb the impact of what had just happened, news soon arrived that Arthas had paid a visit to the Balnir Farmstead. He murdered the entire Balnir family, including the children, and resurrected them as mindless ghouls. He also dug up the grave of his fallen stead, Invincible, whom he'd been forced to kill years ago after a tragic accident, and resurrected him as a skeletal war horse. Days later, he slaughtered the peaceful Vandermar Village to the north of Felstone Field. He turned the small town into a Scourge hideout and soon led an assault on Andorhal. Three brave paladins fell to Arthas before he confronted his old mentor, Uther. He, too, fell to Arthas.
Jaina, still not fully comprehending the situation, was visited by Medivh for a third time. This time, she had no choice but to believe him. With Arthas' betrayal, the government in disarray, and the Scourge growing rapidly, she was forced to accept responsibility as a leader.
As Arthas destroyed Quel'Thalas and used the magical Sunwell to bring the necromancer Kel'Thuzzad back to life as a powerful lich, the human nations and their citizens rushed to make their decisions. Many human leaders agreed to form a new alliance, except for the haughty Genn Greymane, king of Gilneas. He stubbornly insisted that the wall he built to shut Gilneas away from the rest of the world would hold the Scourge indefinitely. But even if had agreed to help, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference. The Scourge were too numerous.
Things only got worse as Arthas returned to Lordaeron with Kel'Thuzzad and laid waste to Dalaran. There, he summoned the Eradar demon lord, Archimonde, who proceeded to destroy the mighty city with a single powerful spell. Archimonde soon left with the rest of the Burning Legion, who revealed themselves to be the ones responsible for the creation of the Lich King and the Scourge. Arthas himself seemed to disappear not long after, but his damage was done.
Jaina held back her tears as the memories flooded her. She needed to be strong now. This was not the time for mourning.
The bell tower of Pyrewood Village rang as the fleet prepared to leave. Jaina knew that she would never hear it again.
Next Chapter: The Battle for Darrowshire