Authors note*
Only certain points of the whole lore have and will be used in this story and even those are modified and changed to the extent that it can no longer be placed back into the chain that is the lore of warcraft up until the present day.

If talking specifically - First of all The Great Sundering never happened, and the demon soul was not finished. Deathwing was defeated and sealed, the early continent of Kalimdor was not shattered, not only did the united forces of Azeroth's inhabitants were able to push back the forces of the Burning Legion, but they also managed to seal off the Well of Eternity, keeping it safe from further use by the highborn or anyone for that matter.

A map of the continent in this story will be submitted in the future and will probably be frequently updated with new territories shown on it. Such a decision has been made because there is no globally acknowledged map of early Kalimdor, which existed before the great sundering.

Prologue

A sudden conclusion

The day was nearing it's end as was the battle nearing it's end. The battlefield was littered with the dead, the result of a whole day of fighting and the victor was already obvious. In the middle of the conflict two figures were clashing with each other, leaving a large empty circle around them, with the troops fighting around them, instinctively avoiding to enter the empty circle, which was filled with the fury of the two.

As we look closely at the two clashing figures we notice that both of them were wearing heavy armor, armored from head to toe. Now examining them one at a time we notice, that one of the fighters was a tall figure, with dark plate armor and a large two-hand longsword. His helm was made to look like a skull that wore a strong similarity to a human one, except it had long horns, and covered up his head, including the face. With each swing of the figures sword, the very ground between his feet shattered, scarring the earth with such brute force.

Now as for the other figure - he wasn't as tall as his opponent, but was also armored with heavy armor, only it's color was brighter, bright red to be precise. The figures helm, not like his opponents, didn't cover his face and we could already say that he was a human, with brown eyes, a serious looking face and a few scars on it. The human wielded a large two-edged axe, and swung it fiercely, but not as powerfully as his opponent, since regrettably…the land did not shatter beneath his feet (too bad). The two of them clashed so for moments, swinging their heavy weapons at each other, evading and clashing with no visible end in sight.

„We shall never falter! We will fight and if need be - even crawl until we defeat you and your wretched army" - The human shouted, as he swung his axe with fierce determination, aiming to slice his opponent in two.

The dark armor wearing figure dodged the threatening swing and counter-attacked, cutting the humans' side, slicing through his heavy armor like butter and inflicting a deep wound. After being injured so, the human fell to his knee, grabbing his sudden wound and trying to get up with the help of his weapon.

„No.." - he whispered - „It cannot end here... I will not loose" - he kept saying, while trying to get up, but miserably failing, with the wound being in the way.

The person responsible for such an injury then placed his swords tip above his pray, preparing for the finishing strike.

„This is the end" - he then said - „You should have just accepted your fate Argeon" - and after saying those words he plunged his sword into the shriveling body of his enemy, stabbing him and finishing Argeon off in a second.

Once the dark figure was finished with his opponent, he then turned towards the battle, which was nearing it's conclusion. The human resistance, even with it's elven allies was not able to win in this decisive battle, as the horde of the dead and the living slaughtered the remainder of them.

As the dark figure was about to join the battle, with his sword ready to feast on enemy flesh, something jumped out of the mass that was moving towards it's remaining foes and knelt in front of him. It was a dark troll and a really tall one at that even comparing him to his own kind.

„Congratulations in finishing off their leader master Sitrim" - the troll said - „We be done with the rest of them in a few moments".

The dark figure, identified as Sitrim looked at the troll for a while and sheathed his weapon, in a scabbard that was hanging on his back.

„Prepare the bodies as usual once the battle has ended" - Sitrim then said and looked at the remaining enemy forces, which were slowly being crushed by his army of undead and troll. The enemy forces were fighting bravely, with humans and some high elven mages defending their positions with all their might.

„Soon, all life will be crushed between my fingers" - Sitrim said under his breath, while watching his forces slowly dominate the battlefield.

As the enemy forces were about to come to terms with their coming death, an unexpected development took place. The sky started raining fire, with it smashing into Sitrim's army, burning many to ashes. The rain of fire stopped as suddenly as it begun and after a few moments the ones responsible for the sudden attack landed – beasts of fire and fury, the red dragons. As many of them landed amongst the undead and troll army, smashing and burning all that they could reach, one of the bigger dragons landed in front of Sitrim, with it's gaze set on the dark master.

„You are a danger to the world and the life within it Sitrim and your actions can no longer be overlooked. You are to be imprisoned for life, as to prevent your dark plans to be carried out." - The dragon announced and without waiting for a reply, breathed fire at him.

Sitrim quickly took out his sword and prepared for the incoming attack, but for his surprise the fire did not attack him directly, instead it surrounded him and slowly rose up, threatening to completely cut him off from the rest of the world. He then started to sliced the wall of fire in front of him, easily piercing it's bright skin, but again, for his surprise the hole made after the attack quickly closed up. Sitrim continued to do so for a while, but with no positive results.

„Alexstrasza!What is this sorcery?" - He shouted.

„You should be honored, this spell was created specifically for you as there is no way for you to escape it, you can only embrace it" - The dragon replied.

As the fires finally surrounded Sitrim from all sides, it started shaping into a rectangle, with blunt corners. As the shaping was complete, the fire evaporated and what was left behind was a coffin made out of dark metal, with the dark master trapped inside, forever in darkness.

As soon as Sitrim was imprisoned, most of his army of the dead fell to the ground, with only a few remaining standing - probably highly ranked officers and fighters. Along side the few remaining undead, the dark trolls stood, but as they saw their master imprisoned and could not withstand the might of the dragons, most of them scattered to all sides, with only a few dedicated souls remaining. The remaining few forces charged towards their masters coffin, dedicated to him, they thought they could save their master, but for naught, as they were consumed by the dragon fires, turning to ash all who got in it's way. As the fight was over the dragons flew off into the sky, with only their dragon queen remaining.

„I'm sorry it turned out this way Sitrim" - Alexstrasza then said while looking at the new-made coffin. She slowly grabbed it with her large claws and after a short pause lifted off, following her brethren.

The battlefield itself was left scorched and abandoned with only the human and elven survivors, who still could not believe their luck, as their enemies were suddenly defeated and they were left victorious (or so to speak).