Disclaimer: I own nothing, Blizzard owns almost all this chapter...except the small part that belongs in never-developed GW territory. Also this chapter is a alternate retelling of the Tomb of Sargeras audio drama at points.

Cold, Dark and Silent. Three small words described that which encompassed the overwhelming majority of the universe. A great, dark, fathomless ocean in which bright flotsam, some of which dated from the dawn of creation, drifted, flickered and danced throughout. This luminous cosmic debris blazed brightly across the cosmos, driving away the shadows that dwelt around them and shining like a brilliant beacon across all of reality. At times the great lights would flicker and die, folding into a hole so dark and black that no light could escape. At others, stars would form and then emerge from the dark, providing a guiding light that could pierce through the void.

In between this confrontation of prime elemental powers, life formed on the planets orbiting these great suns. To the mortal mind, the light brought warmth, direction, clarity and, ultimately, life while the dark brought despair, coldness and death. Yet no few theorists pointed out that while the light may bring life, it was also blinding, stiffing and devoid of privacy, its light ever shining. The dark, they said, obscured the too-revealing light and provides privacy, contemplation, choice and, ultimately, freedom. The truth remained elusive to both sides, for neither the brightest light nor darkest darkness could manifest in the physical realm- at least not yet. Few within the Great Dark Beyond knew of the monsters that hid in the deepest dark or the entities that existed within the blinding light.

The inhabitants of the Twisting Nether, however, were well aware that existence rested on the cornerstone of the light and shadow conflict. Though their own realm was more attuned to the eternal clash than physical reality, mortal universes too were formed by the event. However the veil between the light and shadow realms was far thinner in the Nether than in physical reality, resulting in much greater conflict. Driven to emotional extremes by endless elemental war the inhabitants of the Twisting Nether, daemons, sought an outlet for their own destructive desires. Always able to manifest easier with the mortal realm than the elementals, these daemons inflicted untold atrocities upon the inhabitants of the Great Dark Beyond.

At first uncoordinated, the denizens of the Nether were nevertheless able to corrupt or destroy millions of mortal civilizations and races across reality. Gifted with potent magical powers and effective immortality (for they could not die, under normal circumstances, in physical reality) few mortal civilizations were able to repel these invaders from the Other Realm. For a time only the greatest civilizations, together with a god-race known as the titans, were capable of repulsing the daemons; though the process was marred by the ability of the daemons to come back again and again. Only the extreme disunity; the petty, fractious nature of daemonkind prevented worse damage to the physical realm.

All that changed when Sargeras, the champion of the Titans, betrayed his ilk. Fearful of the shadow and deeming the universe fundamentally flawed, the fallen titan broke Maradum, the vast dimensional prison which contained countless daemons captured by the titans. He then unified these daemons, along with many of those in the Nether, into a vast crusade. He would burn all of reality to ash, so that the shadow could not corrupt it. In a cataclysmic series of battles felt across the universe, the first blows of this Burning Crusade obliterated the Titan Pantheon who had sought to stop their errant brother...

Bereft of their greatest defenders, the mortal realms were left vulnerable to the onslaught of daemonkind. Originally, only the lack of unifying leadership- other than the fallen titan at the top- prevented the full mobilization of the crusade, for Sargeras could hardly be everywhere at once, even when he split his soul into smaller but still impossibly powerful 'Avatars'. In frustration, Sargeras spent his efforts corrupting countless mortal species until he at last encountered the Eredar. Magically proficient, wise and technologically advanced, the Eredar- led themselves by the duo Kil'Jaden and Archimonde- would be the commanders of the crusade. If Sargeras was a god then the pair of Eredar would be his prophets.

Realities burned as the infinite legions assaulted uncountable planets across all possible timelines. Against a numberless foe respawning endlessly, no mortal civilization could withstand the onslaught. Primitive and advanced civilizations alike were immolated like dry leaves before the flame. A few, impossibly, managed to repel the initial invasion. Always, the daemons returned years later, having adapted to whatever tactic defeated them before.

The carnage only escalated as the masters of light and shadow also crossed over to the mortal universes in ever greater number. It is a great irony that the vast influx of daemonic fel magic into physical reality made it all the more easy for the forces of shadow and light to cross, thus giving them easier access to the mortals they both sought to feed on and convert. The daemonic purge whose primary purpose was to deny the mortal realm to the prime elements served to provide an opening for said elements onto the plane- though the most powerful lords of light and shadow were still unable to manifest.

Caught between the tri-threats of the prime elements and all destroying daemonic horde, life stood no chance. Across the multiverse worlds were conceived by action made moments before and then brutally destroyed moments later. Countless Worlds that barely survived the Burning Legion were driven to madness by the whispers of the void or else 'embraced' into the light's fold- willingly or otherwise. In the whole of the multiverse there was only one planet-and, specifically, one version of said planet- that truly defied the legion and which seized the lusting eyes of all three factions.

Azeroth.

The only planet in existence which had defeated multiple Legion invasions and foiled hundreds of Legion plots over the preceding ten millennia. Through the uncanny strength of its mortal champions Azeroth still stood on top of the smoldering corpses of those that had attempted to conquer it over the years. The light and the shadow were both present in the world and used widely by the mortals. However, these mortals subverted the goals of these prime elements and entered into cooperation with one another, if an uneasy one.

The uncanny ability of these mortals to achieve success over cosmic forces- and not just on their home world- threatened to change the unsustainable status quo of reality. Their power, though minuscule compared to the total potential of their opponents, nevertheless blazed bright across the cosmos. Even now, on a planet their own in a universe that was not their own, these mortals achieved an impossible victory; Archimonde, the Defiler, the Left Hand of Sargeras, lay dead, shattered by Azerothi hands forever.

However, even as the champions of Azeroth and the saved inhabitants of a formerly doomed world celebrated, they remained unaware of the greater cosmic struggle or the new powers that would soon enter. Only one among that task force had any vague awareness of the state of the greater universe: Khadgar.


Even as he stood triumphant over the smoldering corpse of Archimonde the Defiler, Khadgar could feel no sense of triumph. When he was an apprentice of Medvih he had dived deep into the secret journals of his master and had an inkling, though not an approximation, of the Legion's true scale. He knew that the death of a daemon lord, even one as important as the Defiler, would not impact the Legion's operations. Only the fall of Sargeras could do that and, unfortunately, both he and the cunning Kil'Jaden had yet to reveal their hands.

Yrel, the champion and new leader of this universe's Draenei, could see that even if there other allies could not. The Draenei always knew for their war with their own fallen kin, the Eredar, had spanned entire aeons. Thus when Khadgar told her of his theories her face hardened into a mask of determination rather than of weariness. "If you ever need us, we will be here."

It was a promise, one she intended to keep. Khadgar could see it in her eyes. He also knew that the honor of Durotan would never allow him to reject a call for help from one who had provided so much aid, and thus the Frostwolves- along with the remnants of many tribes who had come to ally with him- would come. Turning to regard one more figure, he frowned. Grommash Hellscream had been their initial enemy, only to be replaced after he was dethroned by Gul'dan, who himself was backed by the Burning Legion. In truth Khadgar trusted the father of Garrosh, who was as bloodthirsty as his son, little. Yet the chieftain's hatred of demonkind could not be denied nor could the respect Grommash still commanded among the former Iron Horde. Thus, Khadgar thought that he could be relied upon to fight the Legion when they returned.

The Champions of Draenor still had many challenges before them. The remnants of Kilrog's fel-corrupted tribe needed to be rooted out of Taanan, the Breakers-Fungals needed to be tamed, and the Arakkoa were still struggling with how to integrate a society segregated by thousands of years of hatred and mistrust. Even those challenges paled in comparison to the likely leadership squabbles between Grommash and Durotan - though, if fighting broke out, Khadgar suspected Durotan would have the aid of both the Arakkoa and Draenei. Alas those were the problems of Draenor alone right now. While a few tradesmen and settlers from Azeroth might stay behind, their military forces and adventurers would be needed back on Azeroth as Khadgar was positive that was the Burning Legion's next target.

However, first Khadgar had another objective. Gul'dan was still out there. Though the Archmage knew that Gul'dan was but a pawn in the grand scheme of things, the orc warlock had proven incredibly dangerous and the Archmage had no doubt that, if left unchecked, he would bring yet more sorrow. Fortunately, the warlock had bled heavily in the last battle, blood which would retain the faintest essence of the orc's corrupted soul. Moreover, the Archmage had a lead on the source of Gul'dan's staff which might help triangulate the warlock's location further. And with that, Khadgar could track him across the scope of the entire planet- or beyond, if necessary.


As Khadgar and the otherworldly champions left the planet, the native Draenei and Orcs were left to rebuild their shattered world.

The world quaked. The nominal wars of mortals, no matter how explosively charged, would normally mean little to such an entity but, in their greed for victory, the Iron Horde had unleashed far greater horrors than their kind could create. Already the taint of Fel- the very essence of ruin- had sunk its claws deep into the planet and though its normal daemonic purveyors were gone (for now) the wound had yet to be healed.

A few Azerothian allies had stayed, with full knowledge that the Bronze Dragonflight would wedge the way shut after the last of the Azerothian champions exited the realm. This they did selflessly, out of love for this planet or its inhabitants (to some, a very personal love), or selfishly, such as the goblin port down that foresaw new opportunities outside of the ruling cartel's sphere of influence. Both acknowledged the dire threat of Fel and spoke of planets condemned to a slow death from its insidious influence. Indeed, they spoke of another Draenor in another universe that died choking on its own corrupted lifeblood.

The remaining Kaldorei and Tauren druids, vowing to honor those of the Draenei who had fought so valiantly alongside them, were even now trying to heal Tanaan Jungle, though even they acknowledged the depressing odds of such an endeavor. After all, the Cenarion Circle itself had tried for years to heal the tainted land known as Felwood and as of the present they had only met mixed success.

The Draenei were nothing if not determined though, for recent events had proven their fortitude and strength. They had weathered the storm of the Iron Horde and Legion both and, in their eyes, paid the greatest contribution towards the ultimate victory. Oh they freely conceded the aid of Azeroth had been incredibly instrumental, and without their support victory would not have been possible, but in their eyes the other factions of Draenor had only battled the Iron Horde on periphery or worse, been a part of it. After all, with the exception of one invasion to wipe out the Frostwolves of Frostridge it was the Draenei controlled settlements of Shattarath, Auchindon, Telmor, Telaar and the Black Temple, among others, that had dominated Iron Horde and Legion's campaigning.

Yet, their determination was tempered by uncertainty. For the first time in over 30,000 years, they were bereft of the moral guidance of the Prophet Velen, who had led their people even before the coming of Sargeras. With his demise the most influential source of continuity from Old Argus, the only figure who could remember with crystal clarity that golden age of the Eredar, was gone. In lesser civilizations, Velen would have been considered a god and his death treated like an apocalyptic event. Only Velen's decision to delegate most secular authority to the Exarchs prevented total catastrophe; at least the government still worked.

However, spiritual leaders they were not and the exarchs were helpless to calm their people's anguish. Or, at least, none of the older generation of exarchs could.

Into this light stepped their newest exarch: Yrel. In the span of a few months she had risen from a novice priestess to a legend that seemed straight from the most ancient mythos. On her brow she carried the same symbol that Velen once possessed, a powerful relic handed down by the prophet himself. Her mastery and devotion to the light could not be denied by even the most hardened sceptic. Nor, could her knowledge of the battlefield and campaign, for Yrel had worked closely with the Alliance commander to ensure victory on all fronts.

Sought after to manage both her people's secular and spiritual needs, not since Prophet Velen's flight from Argus did a Draenei have so much weight on their shoulders. Indeed, the pressure on her may have been greater, for Velen at least had his visions and millennia of prior leadership to draw from, while Yrel only had newfound glory and a deep devotion to the Light.

Still, she took to the challenge with noteworthy optimism and enthusiasm inspired, in part, by her adventures and experiences with the Outlanders. Their coalitions had provided inspiration for Yrel to try the same. Already she had broached the idea of a summit to her fellow exarchs, a summit that she hoped would bring unity to all the races of the world.

Such cooperation would be needed for the challenges ahead, both to save their world and for the final battle against the Burning Legion. It was a fight she looked forward to having soon, for the entire history of her people since the exile from Argus had been preparing themselves for that final campaign.

And, light willing, she would do battle alongside the greatest heroes and champions reality had ever produced!


2 months later, on Azeroth

At long last, guided by his master's will, Gul'dan had arrived on the Broken Isles. The journey had not been easy, even with a guiding hand. Gul'dan had several run-ins with the mage pursuers of the Kirin Tor. Arcane and fel clashed in dazzling displays that illuminated the barren landscape Gul'dan had spent most of the time crossing. For the most part, they were once sided affairs as the brave but doomed Kirin Tor magus were outmatched by the greatest of mortal warlocks. There were only a few- Khadgar and the sorceress Jaina Proudmoore standing chief among them- who could match the orc in the contest of magical strength.

He had avoided the Proudmoore woman at the pass over Redbridge, though only barely. Knowing that the sorceress could track him through the Nether, Kil'Jaden had bade his apprentice to open a portal to a new realm that seemed defined by shadow, loneliness and despair that had, to the orc, seemed an even less welcoming than Azeroth. Frantic whispers and mad laughter battered his mind ceaselessly and even Kil'Jaden, whose physical presence was dimensions away, seemed uncharacteristically wary. Though no physical presence ever manifested it seemed to Gul'dan that the very shadows themselves had dogged his every step. It was with incredible relief that he had emerged by the sea- near what Kil'Jaden called Westfall- and stolen aboard a local merchant vessel. The crew had proven no match for the other world's mightiest warlock. He had used the adult's souls as nourishment for his own power while the children served as human shields for when the Kirin Tor did finally catch up.

After several days of grueling fighting that ended with shrill screams and a fel-fiery explosion, Gul'dan at last arrived at the Broken Isles. His power nearly depleted from the exhaustive journey, the warlock might have perished right there had not a foolish nightfallen, desperate for mana replenishment, attempted to sap the remaining life from Gul'dans veins. The Nightfallen's body, and those of his nearby brethren, proved to be excellent nourishment. The Warlock would have preferred to stop and rest however his master's ringing voice demanded he move forward.

And so Gul'dan moved, slowly, inexorably, to his final destination, pursued doggedly by Khadgar and the newly arrived Kal'dorei Wardens. The warlock warred with the overwhelming desire to kill his pursuers and his benefactor's desire for caution. Distrust and frustration were rife between them. From Kil'Jaden distrust, as the demon lord laid the death of his brother Archimonde at the failures of the orc warlock. However, more significantly (for in truth Kil'Jaden felt a sort of relief at Archimonde's death, for Archimonde had ever been Kil'Jaden's chief rival) Gul'dan had betrayed Kil'Jaden himself all those years ago when the orc had sought to claim the power of the Tomb of Sargeras for himself.

Likewise, Gul'dan grew increasingly frustrated as the journey continued. His master's distrust grated upon him as the demon lord constrained his every action. Even the slightest acts of resistance brought about threats to cut Gul'dan off from demonic aid- which was essentially a death threat, as Gul'dan knew well how many on this planet wanted to kill him. However, perhaps the most grating aspect was Archimonde's refusal to acknowledge that the Gul'dan who died on this world wasn't him!

How was he, an Orc Warlock whose association with Kil'jaden was relatively new and who had only just arrived on Azeroth within two months, supposed to answer for the 'crimes' of a Gul'dan who he had never met, crimes which he had never committed. The sins of an alternate self should not reflect across realities! How could the demon not see that? If the multiverse was, as the demon said, infinite than an infinite number of Gul'dans- hell an infinite number of Kil'jaden's- should exist. However, when Gul'dan mentioned this his mentor told the acolyte that he 'had the mind and ignorance of a child, like the rest of mortal kind.'

Gul'dan grumbled at this but, after two months of the same argument, was slowly coming to the conclusion that perhaps the problem wasn't that Kil'jaden was unwilling to differentiate between universes- he was unable too. Perhaps there was something to demonic psychology that made the distinction impossible. Did multiple versions of the Twisting Nether exist?

The ruminations were interrupted by Kil'jaden's urgent command- move. The window to open the portal was closing- Khadgar was closing in on his position, having no doubt guessed his intention. Gul'dan urgently broke through the wards of the underground tomb as fast as he could, hastily setting magical traps behind him as he did so. Though an apprentice mage cautious enough could evade them with ease Gul'dan knew that, for all of Khadgar's intelligence and power, the man was one of the most reckless individuals he ever met, exceeded only by the cursed Hellscreams. With luck, Khadgar would seriously injure himself on his way to confront Gul'dan.

The final wards, set by a powerful wizard long ago, proved difficult to crack. Nonetheless they were clearly century's old- and someone had given a shot at weakening them before he got here. Gul'dan avoided mentioning this out loud, however, as he wanted to avoid his master lecturing him on the Other Gul'dan's treachery. The fact was clear that someone had already done much of the work...

A bolt of arcane energy- powerful and controlled, more potent and beyond the capabilities of even a Gorian Magi-king- slammed into his back, the wards there only just serving to protect the Orc Warlock. Khadgar had arrived, and seemingly unharmed, too.

Snarling, Gul'dan turned his attention to the intruder. In a series of muttered curses, he unleashed a torrent of felfire meteors. The mage's arcane barrier proved sufficient at holding back the fel and Khadgar countered with a barrage of ice shards, three feet long and as sharp as gronnling fangs, that forced Gul'dan behind cover. There opening salvo performed, the pair weaved and maneuvered around each other, firing a dizzying variety of spells

Gul'dan, stop this.

Flabbergasted, enraged beyond measure, the warlock questioned the Eredar Lord's command in disbelief, only to receive threats of de-powerment in response. When finally pressed, Kil'Jaden stated that the Legion had plans with Khadgar as much as with Gul'dan. This did nothing to calm the orc warlock. Couldn't the demon lord see that, if Khadgar wasn't dealt with, the portal wouldn't be opened and thus not one of demon's plans would come to fruition?

Gul'dan's pleas had no effect. Kil'Jaden made it clear his orders were a demand and not a suggestion. If Gul'dan persisted, he would be cut off from the Legion's power. Furious, the warlock nevertheless hid in the shadows as Khadgar sent both taunts and then, when that failed to flush Gul'dan out, a legion of arcane elementals to search every nook and cranny of the tomb. Gul'dan knew he had little time - doubtlessly, one of Khadgar's allies would eventually come. Gul'dan needed to incapacitate the mage. Or maybe, another solution was necessary. Growing up, he had watched plenty of orcs deal more damage than they intended to their fellows in the duels that so defined their tribal kind. Accidents happened after all; surely Kil'Jaden would understand this...

Gul'Dan nearly screamed in pain the second his fel torrent spell- hot enough to melt the stone columns of this tomb- was unleashed. Wordlessly, Kil'Jaden saw through Gul'Dan's guile and punished accordingly. Moreover, the mage still stood as his wards had been more than proficient in dealing with the blast. Cursing under his breath, Gul'dan retreated back in the shadows, using fel and shadow magic to cover his steps. Silently, he continued unbinding the seals that kept the demonic portal in place.

The mage continued his search, each second narrowing the range of possible locations. It would not take him too much longer to uncover the warlock. Still, the mage was uneasy. Gul'dan was clearly receiving mental directions from somewhere else and Khadgar feared he knew exactly who was supplying that direction. Khadgar needed Gul'dan's mind elsewhere. Thus, he told the most tantalizing and distracting story he knew- the story of what happened to this universes' Gul'dan.

Gul'dan quickly realized Khadgar's intent and pressed on, though a part of him paid close attention to the tale. His unbinding was close to completion- just a few more-

Khadgar noticed and, through spell trace, found Gul'dan's exact location. The fury of Khadgar's sudden arcane assault nearly broke Gul'dan's fel shield. Even with the protection Gul'dan was still thrown bodily against the wall. As Gul'dan recovered and Khadgar conjured yet another powerful spell, Kil'Jaden's frantic orders rang, telepathically, in his skull: kill him!

My, my, how quickly opinions changed.

Gul'dan mustered a burst of fel explosion that tore through layers and layers of stone, but which narrowly failed to break open Khadgar's shield. Still, the mage staggered under the intensity of the blast. As Gul'dan conjured another such blast a portal tore through reality a dozen feet above his head, while another appeared on the ground many meters in front of him, right beneath a large falling stalactite...

Narrowly he avoided being crushed. The orc warlock looked up and snarled, eager to destroy his rival for good.

The two dueled, evenly, across the breadth of the tomb. Fel fire, hot enough to melt steel into liquid, failed to burn through Khadgar's enchanted ice block. Bolts of arcane, powerful enough to blast open a castle gate, were absorbed into Gul'dan's palm. The magical forces of order and disorder clashed in a perpetual stalemate, seemingly capable of going on forever.

Gul'dan knew he could not. Sooner or later, one of Khadgar's allies would come and the balance would be altered. Already he could sense another presence, though faint, enter the tomb. Or the mage would succeed in destabilizing the tomb enough to where it would collapse. Whatever the case, time was short. Silently, under his breath, Gul'dan pleaded to Kil'Jaden for more power even as Khadgar continued the rest of his tale in between spells.

The demon lord was resistant, accusing Gul'dan of plotting betrayal just like 'he had before'. Gul'dan was at wit's end with his master's reasoning. Nothing Gul'dan said seemed to sway the demon lord. So Gul'dan gave an ultimatum of his own- empower him now or have the Burning Legion's plans fall into ruin.

Kil'jaden was silent for a moment, leaving Gul'dan to fear that his master had abandoned him, just as Gul'dan barely weathered a firestorm from Khadgar. Then, an influx of power came to the warlock as Gul'dan felt his veins widen from sheer influx of energy. Laughing madly, the warlock gathered his emboldened might for an all-powerful spell against the mage. But then the mage finished his tale.

Through his words, Khadgar dealt Gul'dan a more grievous wound than any of his spells had managed to inflict so far. Gul'dan had always assumed that his other-self had died at the hands of the Alliance or Horde, as so many other prominent orcs of Draenor had. Khadgar cast aside that illusion and revealed that the Other Gul'dan fell not from the swords of the Alliance or the axes of the Horde, but to the claws of demons.

Could it really be true? Did Kil'Jaden, despite his continual promises of granting Gul'dan immense power in return for service, really just view Gul'dan as nothing more than a useful pawn, to be discarded at will? Could he view Gul'dan in the same expendable fashion that Gul'dan viewed his own Shadow Council? As much as Gul'dan wanted to deny Khadgar's words, he somehow knew, instinctively, that his rival was telling the truth. Still, one enemy at a time...

With a twitch of his hand, Gul'dan unleashed his now empowered assault. A tsunami of Fel fire flooded the room towards the mage. Khadgar was surprised, fearful, not expecting the sudden burst of power. He turned into a block of ice. To Gul'dan's frustration, he could not break this fortification. Had Khadgar spread his arcane magic thin for a wide shield, the magic would have easily crumbled but here, condensed, the fortification was taking an obscene amount of effort to even crack!

So, instead, he hurled Khadgar beyond the entrance to the chamber and collapsed it on top of the mage for good measure. If the mage survived, he would be dealt with later. Now, for a more powerful foe. As Kil'jaden, pleased with victory, ordered Gul'dan to return the borrowed power and use it to break the final seal, opening the demon portal, Gul'dan refused.

Bitter recriminations flew out of the Orc's mouth as he accused the demon lord of viewing Gul'dan as nothing more than a pawn and for making false promises, stating that Kil'jaden would see fate repeat itself upon him. Kil'Jaden made no denials regarding other Gul'dan's fate (though he continued to fail to make the distinction between the two, irritating the orc immensely). Instead, Kil'jaden pointed out the other Gul'dan's betrayal, how the orc had sabotaged the Horde's victory in the second war in his own pursuit of power and thus foiled the plans of Sargeras himself! Gul'dan scoffed at this- what weight did the word of demons have, much less one who is literally known as the 'Deceiver'! Arrogantly, Gul'dan claimed that he would use this borrowed power to seize control of Azeroth and then enslave Kil'Jaden himself. He would be ruler of all and servant of none.

Kil'Jaden brushed off the threat, easily. What could the power of a world compare to the multiversal might of the Legion? Instead Kil'Jaden explained that everyone had a master - even him, Kil'Jaden, and though Gul'dan would always serve the demon lord, he would be master of uncounted worlds under the Legion's command. Growing weary of the conversation, Kil'Jaden stated in his parting words that he had never lied to the orc warlock and had always viewed him as a uniquely powerful individual. Now was the time for Gul'dan to choose between the unlimited power of the Legion or betrayal once more, to suffer the same fate as other Gul'dan if the mortals of this world did not deal with him first. Kil'Jaden then broke the connection, leaving the orc to simmer in its silence.

Not for long, however. Khadgar had returned and this time, brought a friend. Gul'dan recognized her as Maiev Shadowsong, the head Warden. Cordana had always spoken of her in incredibly fearful tones. It was no matter now, however, for Gul'dan knew he was more powerful than them both.

With a contemptuous wave of his hand, he dismissed Khadgar's conjured blizzard and then, with a lazy muttered incarnation, unleashed a bolt so powerful that Khadgar's arcane shield broke entirely and the mage was forced to teleport out of the way. Maiev teleported behind for a decapitating strike only to be forced to retreat after Gul'dan summoned a wall of fel flame without a so much as a glance behind him. Gul'dan chuckled to himself; his foes were horribly outmatched.

And yet... they did not stop. No matter how pitiful their attacks, they did not stop. Gul'dan actually began to put effort into his assaults, seeking to incinerate them into ash. And yet even though his blows were only barely avoided, even though defenses shattered before his might, even though the pair sustained wounds...they did not stop. Gul'dan's breath stopped as he contemplated not the pair before him but the others. Them. The champions of Azeroth.

Gul'dan remembered watching in awe as those champions led what every spy had told him was only a portion of Azeroth's might to unequalled victory over the Iron Horde. He remembered the sacking of Goria, the destruction of the Blackrock clan. How the unified force of Iron Horde backed up by impossible technology had crumbled like matchsticks before the flame. How even the intervention of the Legion, after Gul'dan took over the Iron Horde, had done nothing to change the tide. Those champions had smashed into Gul'dan's mighty citadel and then, in a cataclysmic battle, slew a mighty lord of the Burning Legion- Archimonde- himself.

Genuine horror spread through the orc's mind as contemplated beings far more tenacious than the Archmage before him. And there were uncounted thousands of them on Draenor- who knew how many on Azeroth, their home world. In a panic he asked the Archmage and Warden, still struggling against his assault, why they did not just give up? They were utterly outmatched in power. His questions were only met with gestures and words of defiance. They could die- indeed they probably would die- but they would never stop fighting.

Gul'dan saw that he stood at a fork in the path. He could have his freedom, his mastery, even his revenge to an extent. Yet, alone, he would eventually fall, his most prized possessions to be used as disposable trinkets by his slayers. Or he could survive, with an army at his back, but without the freedom he so desired.

It was in that moment he made his choice. He closed his eyes. With a groan, Gul'dan let his wondrous power slip from his grasp. Kil'jaeden seized it and sent it straight into the tomb. The walls glowed ever brighter, rivaling the midday sun. Gul'dan felt a keen sense of loss. All that power gone. The tomb was not simply using it; it was consuming it. Terrible sounds, magnificent sounds, deafening sounds, they heralded the creation of a bridge that joined two worlds. Suddenly the way was open. Air rushed from another plane of existence, roaring through the chamber at hurricane speeds. Khadgar and Maiev dropped to the floor, holding on.

And then he heard that familiar voice.

Well Done, Guldan. You did indeed have the vision I-

Kil'Jaden paused, and for the first time Gul'dan detected confusion, doubt, and even fear through their mental link. The portal's composition simmered, the reality behind it altering in shadows. Gul'dan, attuned to the feeling of magic, felt it change from familiar fel to a mixture of the magic Gul'dan had detected on Cho'gall and...something else. Something, wilder.

Air rushed into the tomb, colder air yet thick with that strange magic. The portal began to open once again, revealing a region of ice.

"Master, what is happening?"

The portal has been compromised. Someone else controls its energies.

But who was powerful enough to seize the magic of Kil'Jaden, the mightiest demon lord of the Burning Legion? Gul'dan turned questionably - and a little fearfully-towards Khadgar. Had he underestimated the Archmage's power so drastically? But the Archmage and his companion were still struggling against the winds, their faces- or at least Khadgar's visible one- a mask of confusion.

And then Gul'dan felt it. A power reached through the portal, different yet strangely familiar, and seized the warlock. Then, before Gul'dan could muster the power to protest, he was bodily cast through the alternate reality and disappeared from sight.

Behind him Khadgar and Maiev recovered and stood once more. They turned to each other in wordless uncertainty, neither knowing what to make of the sudden turn of events. However, instinctively, both knew that this change brought not only a lapse from the Legion invasion but also a new challenge, as had every portal before this one. The lords of Azeroth would have to be alerted to this new threat.


Thousands of miles away, in a distant land, Gul'dan awoke.

His head pounded and he felt the residue of unknown magic all across his body. Yet he was alive, that much was sure. Aloud, he called Kil'Jaden by name, demanding answers only to be met with complete silence. The connection had been severed, for now.

Quizzically, the orc held out his hand. With an assertion of will fel fire poured into it, though with more difficulty than on Azeroth or Draenor. Still, Gul'dan breathed a sigh of relief- at least he had not lost that.

It was then Gul'dan registered commotion in the distance. Moving silently through fields of unknown grain, Gul'dan cautiously crept up a nearby hill. Muttering words he himself had invented, he conjured up one of his mystical eyes and sent it a dozen meters above the hillside.

Gul'dan transferred the eye's sight to his own and recoiled before the sight. Before him were two armies of humans, larger than any he had ever seen, dressed in unfamiliar arms and armor, clashing over a vast plain. Some fought under the cloak of what Gul'Dan dimly recognized as a dragon, though more serpent-like than what his spies had transcribed to him. Others fought with a multitude of weapons but those stood out were singular blades, long and balanced in the manner of Burning Blade Blademasters.

Gul'dan recoiled in panic : Where had the portal taken him?

AN: And that's a warp! Now onto the comments

KinglyCrimson This isn't his first time doing so and it won't be the last!

Aburg76 , Tobi14 and MadFrog2000 Thank you all!

Teefplucka Thank you, I think. I wanted to do one prologue chapter for Chronicles and about 4 for the other story. So the next posting on here will be full crossover (instead of turning to at the end) and there is one more prologue on the other one, this time a story from the viewpoint of Kil'Jaden.

TheFelRoseOfTerror Yes another Lovecraft fan!

EVA-Saiyajin As I said in a PM, thank you sir! I always find technical writing to be easier than the other, novelization forms that I am trying in the other set of stories.