PROLOGUE

The court rang with the multitude of voices of his lords. They had all gathered here today to discuss the various problems within their regions and appeal it to him so that he may take command to resolve such conflicts. It would have been interesting yet the subjects were the same as of late: the orcs. "Your Grace, if it would please you, may I be made marshal of all the forces of Lordaeron? I would gladly bring the honor of ridding us of the orcish menace once and for all!" rang the voice of one lord high above.

He had been weary of all this talk of the orcs but he still was anxious about it. As far as he could tell, the orcs were lethargic and had almost lost their lust for battle. What could have riled them up again? he wondered. He had heard they had rallied to the side of a new Warchief, he might have believed they would rise up in war again against them all but this new Warchief had only demanded peace for his people and land that they could settle. A peaceful negotiation? What manner of person is this new Warchief? He was taken aback at the negotiations but he had considered although his lords had vehemently rejected such notion.

"We've received reports that the orcs are regrouping." declared one ambassador.

"Certainly the recent attacks against the internment camps are evidence enough."

"Agreed. The Horde is on the move."

They all boomed down from the high terraces that adorned his court. "This is absurd! My nation will not stand by and watch as the Horde masses on our very doorstep!" cried another. However, the ambassador from Dalaran had other concerns. "The orcs are not our primary concern here!" he said. "How many times must I repeat myself? King Terenas, you must heed my warning!" Terenas could only put one hand to his face as he listened wearily to the concerns of the wizards. "This plague that has gripped the northlands could have dire ramifications."

"Plague? You wizards are just being paranoid!"

A shadow streaked across his face that was enough to bring him out of his stupor and he looked above to see a raven had flown inside the court. He observed the raven with curiosity as it landed at the very middle of the throne room as though it were a delegate that had arrived to bear news. He continued to observe it, he could not shake the feeling that it was no ordinary raven. He would seem entranced by it until he heard the ambassador say they would quarantine the north to stem the plague at which he seemed to wake up from his entrancement.

"I will not institute quarantine without proof of your claims, Ambassador. The people of Lordaeron have suffered enough without becoming prisoners in their own lands." he said, with coldness. He returned to gaze upon the raven and remarked that this time, he cannot dispute it was not just any other raven. The bird seemed to writhe and glow while it was now emanating green mist. What manner of sorcery could this be? Terenas gaped as he saw and had to shield his eyes from the blinding light, where once a raven had stood, now stood a hooded figure that bore a staff.

"Yet, prisoners they are, good king." the mysterious stranger had said.

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you?" thundered Terenas. He would be damned if some arrogant wizard had just interrupted his court to play parlor tricks.

"Humanity is in peril! The tides of darkness have come again, and the whole world is poised upon the brink of war!" the stranger had declared. War? Tides of darkness? Not only was this stranger a wizard, but a madman too!

"Enough of this! Guards, remove this madman!" declared an ambassador. The guards swiftly grabbed the stranger by his shoulders to remove him but he seemed to be stronger as he held himself firmly in place. It would seem he was not finished yet.

"Hear me! The only hope for your people is to travel west to the forgotten lands of Kalimdor."

At once, most of his ambassadors and lords scoffed and began rambling against the stranger. Terenas hushed them all and rose from his throne.

"I don't know who you are or what you believe, but this is not the time for rambling prophets. Our lands are beset by conflict, but it shall be we who decide how best to protect your people, not you! Now, begone!" he bellowed.

The stranger put his head down. "I failed humanity once before, and I will not do so again. If you cannot take up this cup, then I shall find another who will." he muttered. With that, he turned and walked silently away. Despite what he had said, Terenas was internally deeply troubled for the rest of the day with the "prophet's words. Later that evening, just as he was drifting to slumber, he had a dream where he was sitting in the throne room yet it was empty except for him and the stranger. The madman pointed at him and said, "The warning has been given. Your fate is now your own."

He woke up, with sweat tingling his body. It was only a dream, just a dream. he thought. Yet, the words troubled. Your fate is now your own. Terenas didn't easily believe in omens but his spine chilled at those words. Something was coming, he knew, something terrible and Light preserve us, we are all doomed.