[Fanfiction] Chronicle of the Titan Worlds

[Golden Yak]

This is a little different from my usual fan works, but I've been noodling away on it for a while, and I'd like to share it. It's less of an expansion idea for WoW the game and more of a possible setting for the future. This was put together pre-Legion, so there may be some inconsistencies with current lore - please be kind.

Worlds of Warcraft - Chronicle of the Titan Worlds is a narrative that explores the distant future of the Warcraft universe. The world of Azeroth is a faded memory, but new worlds - the Titan Worlds - shine like jewels in the Great Dark Beyond, filled with battle and adventure.

Inspired by the Warcraft Chronicles series and narrative settings like those of Warhammer, Magic the Gathering, and many others, Chronicles of the Titan Worlds is presented as a historical document set within the Warcraft universe that describes events that take place many centuries after the current era of World of Warcraft. It explores the final conflict between the inhabitants of the world of Azeroth and the demonic hordes of the Burning Legion and their dark master, Sargeras the Destroyer, and what happened in the aftermath of that cataclysmic cosmic battle.

What I have so far can be found on WoWpedia here.

I plan to add much more, but Volume 1 is largely complete and I thought I'd start with that. I'll post a bit at a time, though people are of course free to read ahead and comment as they wish. Some inconsistencies might exist, since most of this was conceived pre-Legion and I have been avoiding most Legion info until launch.

----Worlds of Warcraft - Chronicle of the Titan Worlds-----

Foreword

It is with great honor that I undertake the task assigned to me by the revered masters of the Order. Since the recent recovery of the fabled Codex Tirisfalen from the world of Amanthal, the scribes of the Order have shared much speculation about the knowledge contained within this most sought after historical text. Other such relics recovered from the Cradles of Azer across the six worlds have only hinted at the true origins of our people, but if the knowledge we have gleaned so far is true, then the Codex represents the one true history of the fabled Last War between Azer and the Fallen One.

Throughout history, knowledge seekers have pondered the many questions whose answers are now within our grasp. What was the true nature of Azer, the one common deity worshiped on all the worlds? Did the fabled Fallen One truly exist, and what was its relation to our maker? Where did they come from? Where did they go? Will Azer ever return to us? I stand on the threshold of discovering all this, and more. For the task of translating the Codex and its ancient secrets to the modern tongue has fallen to me.

I take pride in the fact that I was chosen to complete this labor, a task of such import. May Azer grant me the insight I require.

There is ever more to learn. Let us begin.

Caldair Sericante of the Fifth Circle, Scribe to the Order of the Azure Sands
Proud citizen of Gannon, the Fourth World

----Volume One - The Awakening of Azeroth and the War with the Destroyer----

----Prologue - The Ages of War----

Since the dawn of its existence, Azeroth has been a world of war. From the great battles of the elementals during the world's first age, to the coming of the Old Gods and their voidborn terrors, to the great campaigns of mogu and kaldorei. So it is with irony that the era of the First War is named, for countless wars had been waged for many millennia before the time of that conflict. But the First War is, in some ways, the most significant, for it marked the beginning of the last of Azeroth's Great Ages of War.

It was the First War that saw the orcish Horde come to Azeroth from long-lost Draenor. Traveling through the Dark Portal, this alien army had come to ravage and despoil the lands of Azeroth. Unwittingly carrying out the plans of hidden demon masters, the orcs slaughtered the humans that they found and tore down their kingdoms. But mankind reached out to others who called Azeroth home - dwarf, elf, and gnome - uniting the disparate races together into a powerful Alliance that turned the tides against the orcs in the Second War. With the orcs defeated, their demonic puppet-masters withdrew their support, leaving the orcs at the mercy of the Alliance.

Years passed before Azeroth would again suffer from demonic incursion, but when the demons returned they did so in force. The demons unleashed the undead Scourge upon Azeroth, scything away entire civilizations with plague and necromantic sorcery, before the demons themselves took to the field, revealing to Azeroth the true threat that had motivated the Horde - the Burning Legion. 10,000 years ago the Legion had fought to claim Azeroth for their dread master, the fallen Titan Sargeras, but the demons had failed then, defeated by the kaldorei and their allies. This second invasion came to be called the Third War, but it marked the first time when Alliance and Horde fought as allies. The Horde overcame their demonic corruption and fought alongside Alliance and kaldorei to destroy the Legion and drive them from Azeroth.

The end of the Third War marked the beginning of a new age of war - Alliance and Horde carved out their places in the world, and held them against all-comers. Time and again these factions would take to the field of battle, against one-another as often as alongside one-another. For every blood-soaked battlefield the Horde and the Alliance clashed over, there was another where the two fought side-by-side against an enemy that threatened to consume them both. Undead armies, ancient horrors from the days of the Black Empire, and corrupted agents of the fallen Titan Pantheon - all those who sought to destroy Azeroth would fall before the combined might of two worlds, Alliance and Horde united. And inevitably, when the greater danger passed, Alliance and Horde would turn their weapons upon each-other. The cycle never ceased its turning. It was an endless age of war.

Then the day came when the sky turned black, and fire rained from the heavens. The mortal races of Azeroth looked to the horizon where a new army of demons appeared - the Burning Legion had returned. Swarming out of the chaotic realm of the Twisting Nether, the demons were seemingly without limit. For every incursion that was crushed, another would follow. Horde and Alliance fought ceaselessly, driven by desperate need to survive. Though the demons died in droves, they each screeched out the same dire threat with their final breath.

"Sargeras is coming! The Lord of the Legion is here!"

After an eternity of searching, the Demon Titan has come at last to Azeroth.

- - - Updated - - -

Volume One, Chapter One - The Rise of the Titan and the Burning Legion

The Coming of the Demon Titan

The Demon Titan, lord of the Burning Legion, had spent an eternity traveling the vast distances of the Great Dark Beyond, searching for Azeroth. His every effort to use portals to travel to Azeroth more rapidly had been thwarted by mortal resistance, but his fury could be delayed no longer. Sargeras had finally arrived in Azeroth's star-system. In a matter of days, he would reach Azeroth itself. As a Titan, Sargeras was vast in size - large as a planet himself, a colossal being of demonic power. He became visible from Azeroth's surface, a demonic shadow blotting out the sun. When he reached Azeroth, the end would come. He would destroy the planet with a single blow from his dreadful blade, Gorribal.

Many ages had passed since the Burning Legion had first walked the world of Azeroth. In that distant time, the denizens of Azeroth both mortal and immortal and banded together to drive them away. The Legion had attacked the world again and again since that first war, but always they would be repulsed. The world of Azeroth had born witness to many demon invasions, and many brave battles fought by the people who called her home. The Battle at Mount Hyjal, the Crusade to Outland, the Invasion of the Broken Isles, and others - centuries had passed since those great conflicts. Heroes had lived and died, champions fought and sacrificed, civilizations had risen and been razed. All though its ages of war, the Titan Azeroth had lain in nascency. Sleeping. Dreaming. Growing. Learning. Every battle, every drop of blood spilled, Azeroth had felt within its vast and mighty soul. Every warrior's cry, every sorcerer's incantation, every prayer made and oath sworn. Those who had fallen in their home's defense had pledged their spirit to Azeroth, every sparkling soul a drop in a great and glorious ocean. Sargeras had come to destroy Azeroth, to extinguish this marvel, fearing that it would outshine him. But the demon Titan had come too late.

The time was at hand. Within the world of Azeroth, the slumbering Titan stirred.

[Golden Yak]

The Awakening

The history of the world in the centuries prior to Azeroth's awakening is lost to mortal knowledge. The old records speak of the Age of Mortals, of the the First War between orcs and humans and the many that followed. Of the Burning Crusade to broken Outland, of the War of the Lich King's Wrath, of the Shattering, and many more momentous events. Histories become fragmented towards the end of this age, but it is known that two great forces emerged at its dawning and endured until its twilight - the Alliance and the Horde. These forces fought against one-another as often as they would join together against a greater threat. They defeated the Burning Legion on more than one occasion. Legends are told of the War of the Broken Isles, where the Alliance and the Horde suffered bitter defeats and the loss of many heroes, only to turn the tides at their darkest hour and deal the Legion another defeat. There are other legends, other myths, of later wars, of endless bloodshed and sacrifice, of victory and defeat and acts of truest heroism and blackest infamy. The complete history is not known, the ultimate fates of the Alliance, the Horde, their allies and enemies and all the mortals that had once dwelled on Azeroth remains a mystery. But the chronicle that follows offers a clue, an insight into what became of the heroes and defenders of the world.

All across Azeroth's surface, demons descended like a furious storm-cloud, falling upon the world as innumerable as raindrops. Their numbers blotted out the sun. Never before had Azeroth, had any world in all the cosmos, born witness to an invasion this vast. It seemed as if every demon in existence had come to lay waste to this most stubborn of worlds, and in truth this was not far from the case - Sargeras had nearly emptied every demon world in the Twisting Nether to mount this final offensive. Even as the demons came in endless waves, the defenders of Azeroth stood firm. Every mortal race stood together, all grudges laid aside for this final battle. Every weapon and sorcery at their disposal was turned upon the Legion. Demons fell in droves, hacked apart or blasted to ash, but for every one that fell a thousand more was ready to take its place. Mortal kingdoms fell. Forests burned in fel firestorms. Mountains were torn down, seas boiled away, lands turned black with demonic corruption. Entire races were brought to the edge of extinction, and then pushed over it by the howling demon hordes. The light of life, of resistance and hope, dwindled as darkness enveloped the world.

Then, at last, Azeroth awoke.

The last stand of Azeroth's defenders.

All who stood upon her surface or soared above in her skies felt it. Demon and mortal alike felt the awesome presence within the world come into full awareness. Like a wave, the raw knowledge of what was transpiring rolled out across all present. The demon hordes hesitated, halted in the midst of their slaughter, their howling voices falling silent. The only sound was the wind. The last mortal defenders of Azeroth lowered their weapons and looked to one-another. They understood, at that moment, that their duty had been fulfilled. They had held to the last moment, had kept Azeroth safe. Now it was time for the final war to be fought.

From deep within the world, brilliant light poured forth, shining up from below through mantle, crust, stone, and earth. It was as if Azeroth had become a star, brilliant and glorious, shining with all the energies of creation. The light swept up, and in its wake the world was remade in brilliant luminescence. Where forests had been burnt to ash, they stood again - trees and vines made of glimmering arcane light, every leaf a prism of radiance. Mountains rebuilt themselves into towering peaks and soaring summits, glowing like alabaster. Rivers of arcane power flowed through once-dried channels, feeding into seas of pure light. Demons shrieked as the ground beneath them became lethal - arcane forests sprung up around demonic legions, branches punching through fel-wrought armor plate as if it were paper, leaves slicing apart demon flesh like blades. Even the grass underfoot shot up through demonic hooves and talons, piercing them without resistance. Mo'arg and felhound, eredar and infernal, legion soldier and demon beast by the millions screamed as the radiance devoured them, dissolving their bodies in bursts of arcane flame. Ered'druin, nathrezim, and other flying demons survived but moments more, taking to the skies to avoid the deadly earth beneath them, but the light lanced outwards in great towers of shimmering force, erasing flying demons by the thousands. Overwhelmed, the Legion that had held the world in its dark grip pulled back.

The surviving mortals of Azeroth stood unharmed in the blazing energy that radiated from within their world. The Titan recognized each and every one of them, knew them better than they knew themselves. From the bravest hero standing firm in the face of the demons, to the youngest child waiting fearfully in some final sanctuary for word of hope, Azeroth reached out and welcomed all of her children home. One by one, the last mortals of Azeroth vanished, fading away in glimmers of arcane light, drawn into the rising Titan. Armor and weaponry vanished with them, then the bodies of the slain and their accouterments. Then the rubble of their kingdoms, the hewn stone of fallen towers and smouldering cut timber of their dwellings. Broken monuments and shattered citadels, fortresses and cities, temples and deep tunnels... all vanished, all signs that mortals had even existed, were erased, replaced with wilderness of gleaming arcane light.

From far away in the dark of space, Sargeras watched as the darkness of his demon armies surrounding Azeroth was burned away. He and the Burning Legion bore witness to a sight the cosmos had not beheld in countless millennia - the birth of a Titan. Shining with the awesome force of Titanic birth, the world of Azeroth unfolded like a blossom. The land shifted and heaved, flowing into new and glorious forms. There was no destruction, no tearing of the land, no grinding of mountains or crumbling of continents - this was an act of creation, not destruction. Mountains flowed like molten metal, forests rippled and moved and seas swirled. Horizon became mighty limbs, oceans and clouds became luminous tresses. Cosmic winds buffeted the growing figure, drifting stardust traced the outline of wondrous ornate armor. Where once the world of Azeroth had glimmered like a jewel in the Great Dark Beyond, Azeroth the Titan now stood upon the aether, glorious as all the stars in the heavens. Eyes like twin suns shone out, illuminating features both strong and beautiful. Those eyes took in the sights of all the cosmos in its splendor, of stars without number and wonders without end, and then fell at last on her enemy - Sargeras the Destroyer.

[Golden Yak]

The Opening Salvoes of the Last War

Sargeras beheld the rise of his greatest fear - a Titan whose power rivaled his own. Not the barest hint of the Void's corruption marred her great spirit, not the smallest trace of fear could be found in her brilliant eyes. But Sargeras beheld a rival, one who stood against his dream of remaking the cosmos. She could not be permitted to survive. With a howl that shook the stars, Sargeras thrust his blade towards the Titan - at this command, the full force of the Burning Legion that he had brought with him surged to attack.

Like a nebula of darkness and fel green flame, the Burning Legion swarmed forth. The great horde that had attacked Azeroth before had been only a fraction of the forces that answered Sargeras' call to attack. Huge tendrils as large as worlds made up of millions of screaming demons tore their way through the empty space, a dozen spears of demonic fury aimed at the heart of the ultimate enemy. At the tip of each colossal tendril was a cabal of eredar, thousand strong, chanting spells of chaos and ruin. The fabric of reality tore, streamers of broken dimensions carried along by the demons' charge, ripping open great rents into the chaotic depths of the Twisting Nether. Rivers of fel energy coursed forth, guided by the sorceries of the eredar to encircle Azeroth. The fel currents constricted around the Titan's colossal form. Where the green energy touched the gleaming arcane aura of the Titan, the glorious light dimmed. Chains of pure fel, vast as mountains, crashed down and were pulled tight. Along them came rank after rank of felguard, mo'arg, shivarra, felhounds, and other demonic monstrosities, using the magical currents as bridges to reach the surface of the Titan. Eredar and nathrezim hurled sorceries from above, raining infernals down by the thousands. The might of the Burning Legion closed in around Azeroth.

With a shrug of her great shoulders, Azeroth broke free. The constricting chains of fel energy blasted apart, dissolving under the raw arcane force flowing from within the Titan. Demons screamed and were unmade, infernals fizzled out like spent coals. With a gesture, Azeroth sent a beam of raw arcane force blazing from her palms into the nebulaeic tendrils of demons closing in on her. The beams lanced out and burned through the tendrils, dissipating them in an instant. Countless demons were consumed, their corporeal forms unmade and their polluted souls sent screaming back to the Twisting Nether. With a toss of her shimmering hair and a flexing of geologic muscles, Azeroth broke the hellish swarm, destroying in an instant more demons than had ever fallen in the entire history of the Legion's Burning Crusade. Never had the demons known such utter defeat - not since the days that Sargeras had fought as a champion of the Pantheon.

Sargeras watched as Azeroth unmade his Legion with the barest flicker of her great power. For a moment his fury was eclipsed by his admiration - the newly born Titan was everything the Pantheon had promised him it would be. A champion without peer, a force against whom no enemy could stand. With that thought, Sargeras' fury grew ten-fold. No enemy but Sargeras himself.

Across bridges of fel power, the forces of the Legion march to the last war.

[Golden Yak]

Volume One, Chapter Two - The Lord of the Legion and the Defenders of Azeroth

The Titans Clash

Sargeras unfolded wings of fel fire vast enough to shroud a world. The stars themselves dimmed behind the green flames. The same flames burned across his entire body, wreathing hands and face in fel fire that burned hotter and hotter as his hatred grew. He became an emerald inferno hanging in the darkness, burning like a terrible sun. Worlds far from Azeroth could see the blazing green star hanging in the sky, tainting the darkness with sickly green. Alien astromancers screamed and clawed at their faces when they tried to observe the new celestial body. Prophets and diviners went mad trying to decipher the meaning of its appearance. Space warped and twisted around the Demon Titan as he marshaled all his terrible strength, breaking open rents into the Twisting Nether that drooled destructive fel.

With a bellow that shattered every world in Azeroth's system and shook its very sun, Sargeras thrust one hand forwards, and from his palm erupted a colossal beam of fel green energy. Pure destructive force, powerful enough to unmake a star, blazed across the void between Sargeras and Azeroth in an instant. Reality itself tore open, jagged and screaming, as the beam reach the Demon Titan's enemy. At the last instant, Azeroth brought her arms up, cosmic dust spiraling off armored bracers as she moved and crossed her arms in a bracing stance. The beam struck Azeroth's crossed limbs and erupted in a supernova of blinding fel flames. As brightly as Sargeras had burned before, his power unleashed burned brighter.

When the glare faded, Azeroth still stood, body smouldering from the shroud of fel energy that still lay about her. On her surface, glowing arcane forests had been eaten to the ground by fel flames. Mountains had crumbled. Rents in her flesh had opened, arcane lifeblood gleaming within. The aura of shining power that surrounded her had dimmed. Sargeras grinned, readying to move in for the kill. Then Azeroth dropped her arms, and the Demon Titan saw his enemy's eyes. Now, Azeroth began to burn, bright white arcane flames springing up across her form. The arcane fire devoured the fel energy, unmaking it, and as it did Azeroth's body renewed itself - in an instant arcane forests regrew and white mountains rebuilt themselves. Now Azeroth blazed like a star in the night, bright and beautiful, a beacon of hope to the universe. Azeroth brought a colossal hand back and focused all her power into her palm, the energy taking form like a bright burning orb. Flinging her hand forwards, Azeroth unleashed an attack of her own to match that of Sargeras', a cascade of arcane brilliance that lanced out at the Demon Titan.

Sargeras barely managed a last-second defense, folding his wings around him and bracing his body. The arcane lance blasted apart his fel-flame wings and slammed into his colossal body, flinging him back. Fel-wrought armor melted and collapsed from the fury of the attack. Arcane light burned into the Demon Titan's surface, cracking open fissures and triggering the eruption of fel volcanoes across his corrupted form. Sargeras howled in pain greater than any he had ever felt. At last, the beam diminished, and Sargeras fought himself free of the burning energy. Struggling to recover from the agony, Sargeras realized with shock that the blast had flung him across the star system. Never had he felt such power, never in all his existence had he been wounded so badly - even his brethren in the Pantheon had not struck so powerful a blow. Azeroth was but a spark of light in the distance, but as Sargeras watched, the light grew brighter. Flying through the void, stardust streaming behind her like the tail of a comet, Azeroth was coming for him.

- - - Updated - - -

The Two Legions

Sargeras spread his tattered fel fire wings, which were already beginning to replenish themselves with his boundless hatred. He flung his arms wind, taloned fingers curled. His claw tore into the weave of reality and with a furious below, Sargeras tore apart time and space. The fabric of the material universe was rent asunder on a scale that had never before been witnessed. Great yawning rifts in the Twisting Nether bloomed throughout the star system, the starry darkness shrouded in roiling clouds of chaotic nether-energy. Azeroth halted her flight towards Sargeras as Netherspace poured over her, spilling out from the rifts to engulf light years of realspace. Within the Nether a monumental force was arrayed against her - everything Azeroth had faced thus far had been a mere vanguard. Now, the full might of the Burning Legion spilled out of the Twisting Nether at their dread master's command. Great swarms of demons poured forth like roiling storm-clouds, billions of mo'arg and felhounds racing across the aether on currents of fel energy, flanked by fel reavers and eredar, while clouds of dreadlords, doomguard, and infernals soared overhead. Fleets of demonic vessels emerged from Netherspace, destroyers and dire wraiths, dreadnoughts and doomships, thousands upon thousands of vessels bristling with fel-cannons and carrying millions of shock-troops, enough fire power to scour a galaxy of life. At Sargeras' command, the Burning Legion came in their innumerable multitudes, all the demonic fury of the cosmos focused upon Azeroth. Sargeras began to laugh as the full terrible might of his Legion closed over Azeroth like a tidal wave. This would mean the difference between victory and defeat - Azeroth was alone, while Sargeras had limitless minions at his command. His laughter died as Azeroth raised one hand... and summoned forth a legion of her own.

From Azeroth's arm came streamers of arcane light, winding their way through space like rivers. They coursed on currents that brought them crashing against the fel currents that poured from Netherspace, the two conflicting energies forming glowing bridges hanging in space. Then, emerging from Azeroth's upturned palm they came - thousands of glittering phantasmal figures, living beings rendered in prismatic starlight. Armored knights armed with shield, lance, and great sword astride mighty equine steeds. Lithe elven figures mounted atop great beasts, panthers and stags, wielding spears and triple-bladed glaives. Huge packs of wolves thundered alongside them, carrying muscled warriors who swung axes made of light. Huge bovine giants wielded wicked longspears thundered alongside them on starlight hooves, effortlessly keeping pace with their mounted comrades. Above them flew stout humanoids astride astral gryphons, their bulging muscles wreathed in glowing tattoos and their great fists clutching mighty warhammers. Shimmering elves armed with bows and arrows flew ethereal dragonhawks, while mighty ursine figures rode winding serpentine beasts made of stars. Even stranger beings joined the shimmering armies of Azeroth in charging - creatures of the wild of massive size, wolves and kodo and giant boars, great cats and stags and colossal bears, giant birds of prey, eagles, hawks, dire ravens, phoenixes. All the mortal races and beasts of nature that had ever dwelled on Azeroth now charged forth as arcane avatars of glorious righteousness, thundering across bridges of conjured starlight towards the ranks of the Burning Legion. At the head of this miraculous army were starlight effigies of heroes who had fallen defending the world throughout its many ages of war. Here, an orc hero riding a colossal wolf wielding an axe of glowing wood. There, a human prince astride a gryphon, his words stirring the spirit to the heights of bravery even as they made demons quail in fear. An elven figure leapt from his mount only to transform into a great starry bear and charge his way to the head of the great army. A wondrous mage soared forth on strands of starlight, conjuring awesome sorceries.

With a battle-cry echoing in a thousand languages across the void, the army of Azeroth crashed into the demon hordes arrayed against them. Charging knights crushed rank after rank of felguard, casting them off the magical bridges to fall screaming into the darkness. Swords of light cut through felforged armor, lopping off demon heads and limbs. Dwarven gryphon-riders stoved in doomguard faces with their warhammers while their mounts tore apart dreadlords with their wicked talons. Archers let loose arrows that shone like comets as they streaked unerringly towards their targets, blasting demon aparts in prismatic detonations. Starlight wolves crunched fangs down on felhounds, while orcish axes split mo'arg and dismembered wrathguard. Eredar sorcerers screamed as arcane counter-spells devoured them, infernals fell apart as gnomish spell-casters flitted around them like insects, disenchanting the fel energy powering them. Bellowing abyssals were ripped apart by furious beasts whose size and strength dwarfed theirs. Fel reavers were smashed to pieces by the colossal fists of giants made of glowing white stone, like living mountains. The two forces fought furiously in the heart of the raging Netherstorm, the armies of Azeroth scything through the demons with seemingly unstoppable momentum. Moment by moment, the Burning Legion of Sargeras buckled and was driven back by the glowing majesty of Azeroth's Titan Legion.

The fury of a hundred billion demons is turned upon the last hope of the universe.

Sargeras bellowed furious orders to his eredar commanders. He saw what no other demon did - Azeroth's army was powerful, but its numbers paled in comparison to the demons. No matter their strength, they would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Like wildfire, the commands of the Demon Titan spread to his Legion. While Azeroth's forces lanced deep into the demon ranks, the bulk of the Legion wheeled about and brought its fury to bear on their flanks. Legion vessels trained their cannons on Azeroth's army and opened fire. Beams of fel green energy lanced out, blasting into the ranks of starlight warriors. Shields of light protected some, but others were dissolved by the corrosive green poison, fading out like a dying fire. Salvo after salvo of demonic artillery crashed into the defenders of Azeroth, heedless of how many demons were caught in the blast. Weakened by the fel fire, glittering knights who had cut down a thousand demons found their strength began to falter, and packs of demons would drag them down, ripping and tearing at them into they dissolved into flickering motes of light. Fel beasts and demon behemoths stormed out of the Nether to match tooth and claw with the creatures born of Azeroth, sinking black fangs into starlight throats and tearing until their prey faded away. On every front the charging armies of Azeroth began to slow, the demon ranks they cut apart reinforced with millions more of the fiends, flowing out of the Nether in endless hordes.

With the tide beginning to turn, Sargeras gave a command to his fleet of mighty demon ships. The great doomships, the deadliest weapons in his armada, wheeled about to face Azeroth. At the prow of every doomship burned a colossal fel cannon, like a terrible green eye, capable of scouring a mortal kingdom down to ash with a single blast. The vessels began to fire at Azeroth, sending a wave of screaming green death scything through the void towards the Titan. Bolt after bolt slammed into Azeroth, causing her features to grimace with pain. The doomships were aiming for the Titan's still outstretched arm, where her forces still poured from her open palm - they were trying to cut off her armies from reinforcement. The other demon vessels continued to fire upon those of her forces that had already been called forth, reaping a heavy toll. Azeroth saw that it was time. Sargeras' forces had moved exactly as she had known they would. Waiting for this moment had been costly, but now the entirety of his armada had closed in and was exposed to her counter-attack.

[Golden Yak]

Fury of the Demon Titan

Holding out her other arm, Azeroth called forth more of her forces. Streamers of arcane light leapt from her fingertips and crashed into the Burning Legion's armada. Dozens of doomships were split in two by the cosmic bands as they wound their way through the demonic fleet, their fragments burning and crashing into vessels. Motes of light rose from Azeroth's outstretch limb and the shimmering bands, flying towards the Legion's ships. Each spark of light formed itself into a great humanoid figure - winged vrykul warriors armed with spear and shield, both male and female with feathered wings made of starlight, reminiscent of the legendary val'kyr that had once shepherded vrykul souls. Now, countless of the mighty warriors flew through the void towards the Legion's ships. Along the bands of arcane light conjured by Azeroth marched more of her forces. Armies of more vrykul, bellowing war-cries and brandishes their massive axes. Legions of towering trolls riding huge dinosaurs of starlight. Thundering hordes of mogu warriors, their cruel faces twisted with a fury that would give a demon pause. Thousands and thousands of huge warriors from Azeroth's primal ages of war thundered through the demon armada. Winged vrkyul hurled spears into ships that detonated with explosive force, blasting apart vessels into smouldering fragments. Mogu leapt from starlight bridges onto the remaining doomships and tore open their hulls, storming through the vessels to crush the mo'arg and gan'arg operating them. The mogu laughed cruelly as they pulled apart the smaller demons with their bare hands, then slammed fists into the seething crystalline hearts of the Legion vessels and broke them apart. Trolls astride astral terrorsaurs and phantasmal giant bats swooped low over demon ships and release the massive troll berserkers they had been carrying - like living missiles these hulking brutes punched through the armored hulls of dreadnoughts and dire wraiths, rampaging through the ranks of troops held inside. Every time a demonic vessel broke apart, the shining warriors within would leap to another, sailing across the void unerringly to their target. Even if a ship detonated in a blast of fel flame, most of the hardy starlight beings would survive, swept up by their comrades astride flying mounts and ferried to new targets. All across the battle-lines, the demon ships began to founder and crumble, unable to match the primal fury of Azeroth's earliest children.

With the Legion's demonic vessels ripped from overhead, Azeroth's forces re-doubled their efforts, surging forwards without demonic artillery slowing their advance. Knights and orcs, elves and dwarves were bolstered by mogu and vrykul and troll, swelling the ranks of Azeroth's army and striking back at the Legion on all fronts. A great saurian juggernaut of glowing light carrying a small army of troll warriors thundered forwards, its horns goring and tearing apart a towering doomlord. Vrykul warriors clamored atop friendly giants and hurled themselves at towering demonic brutes, splitting the fiends heads with their greatswords. A mogu warlord clashed with a ferocious annihilan pitlord, bringing his massive warspear down to cleave apart the demon's body. The pitlord detonated in an explosion of demonic fury, blasting apart many demons and several of the starlight warriors, but the great mogu strode on through the explosion unheeded, bellowing with laughter and calling for a greater challenge. Demons died in droves as Azeroth's arcane legions fought ever onwards. They would not stop, and could not be stopped.

From within the great Titan's worldsoul, Azeroth's mightiest children are called forth to do battle.

Sargeras ground his teeth in frustration, his fel flames blazing hot. Despite the Burning Legion's greater numbers, Azeroth's forces had superior power, and his demons were being stalemated - indeed, they were on the verge of breaking. Sargeras gave the final command to his eredar - all forces were to engage at will. Nothing was to be held back. The eredar themselves were to commit everything to this battle, leading personally. The demon hordes still poured forth from the Twisting Nether with no sign of stopping, but Sargeras knew there was only one way this battle would end, and that was if he ended it himself. Even as the Legion surged forth to engage Azeroth forces, Sargeras brandished Gorribal and gave a furious bellow. Spreading his fel fire wings wide, Sargeras charged forwards. His advanced took all present by surprise, including his own forces. Like an unstoppable juggernaut, Sargeras crashed straight through his own forces, his hate-fueled flames consuming millions of screaming demons, his thundering wings smashing apart hundreds of vessels and annihilating tens of thousands of flying fiends. With a sweep of his blade, Sargeras slashed through the bridges of fel and arcane energy that brought the foot-soldiers of both armies to face each other, unmaking countless demons and starlight warriors. Caught off guard by Sargeras's unexpected destructive charge, Azeroth barely braced herself in time to meet the Demon Titan's assault. The two Titans collided with cataclysmic fury, unleashing waves of fel and arcane force that shockwaved outwards to devastate both their armies. Fel flames devoured starlight warriors, while writhing arcane bands dissolved countless demons. Sargeras swung his blade again and again aiming for killing blows, only for it to ring off Azeroth's armor as her every movement turned lethal strike into glancing hit.

At last, Sargeras' hand closed around Azeroth's throat, black nails as vast as mountain ranges biting into his enemy's surface. Sargeras brought his blade up for a strike, and Azeroth's hand closed around his wrist, staying his attack. Sargeras snarled with fury as Azeroth's other hand crashed into his face, taking hold of his horns and forcing him back. The two Titans wrestled hanging in the aether, each trying to overpower the other. Fel green flame from Sargeras' body washed over Azeroth, dimming her arcane brilliance. Sargeras grinned, sensing that his victory approached, and bellowed an order to his Legion. Swarming forth from behind Sargeras came a storm of demons, millions strong. They had followed in the wake of their master, and now poured forth onto Azeroth's surface, swarming like insects to attack her directly. Eredar diabolists called forth storms of infernals to crash across Azeroth's surface like a meteor shower, an army of demonic constructs that rose from their craters to rip apart at the very flesh of the Titan herself. Nathrezim sorcerers landed in gleaming arcane forests and conjured forth hordes of demonic locusts and vermin to devour the glowing foliage. Felguard set to cutting down shimmering trees with fel iron axes. Demonic vessels, dire wraith troop carriers and destroyers, plunged through Azeroth's atmosphere and crashed into her surface like needles, disgorging hordes of ground troops and firing wildly with fel cannons. Mo'arg and wrathguard hacked at white mountains and cracked open canyons exposing the arcane blood of Azeroth beneath the surface. Pitlords howled and tore at their own flesh, spilling fel blood into Azeroth's wounds and filling them with corruption. Azeroth's voice rang out in pain as the demonic pollution ate into her body and her arcane power. Sargeras' grin widened, relishing his enemy's suffering. He began to speak to her, telling her of how he would destroy her, how he would snuff out the light of hope she had kindled in the universe and wipe out the folly of the Titans once and for all.

With a crack like a thousand thunderclaps, Azeroth snapped off one of Sargeras' horns. The Demon Titan shrieked in agony, his grip on Azeroth loosening slightly. Azeroth gave a flex of continental muscle and broke free of Sargeras' grip, slamming a fist like a crashing comet into the Demon Titan's face. Knuckles like mountain-ranges crashed into Sargeras' visage, geological features crumbling under the blow and spilling out molten fel blood. Sargeras reeled back, clutching his broken brow and glaring at Azeroth between his fingers. Azeroth glared back, her body marred with cracks and wounds from the demons attacking her surface, but still strong and defiant. With a flick of her wrist, she sent Sargeras' broken horn spinning off into space. Both Titans were wounded, but they had only just begun to bring their full power to bear against one another. The battle was far from over.

[Dellis0991]

Holy shit that was amazing, and if you should ever write books I would certainly buy and read them. Azeroth ain't no joke.

[Golden Yak]

@Dellis0991 - thanks! I don't know how well I'd do with an actual long-form narrative, but I was really inspired by Chronicle's summary-style writing and other similar works, so this is my first effort at that style of writing. Have some sidebars!
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Sidebar - The Prince of Light and the Knights of the Storm

Leading the human forces of Azeroth's starlight armies was the Prince of Light. A luminous avatar of cosmic radiance, the Prince shone with the sacred Light of Creation, the font of all life in the cosmos.Mounted on an astral gryphon made of starlight, the Prince flew to wherever the forces of Azeroth needed him. When his light fell upon the beleaguered warriors of Azeroth, their strength and fervor was restored, their fear banished, their spirits uplifted. When it fell upon the demons of the Burning Legion, the fiends withered and burned, forced to flee lest they be reduced to ash. Beneath the starry wings of his mount rode the Knights of the Storm, avatars of chivalry and nobility, garbed in immaculate starlight armor, with brilliant arcane lances and impenetrable enchanted shields. Demons were crushed under the hooves of their starlight steeds by the thousands. They followed their Prince, unwavering and unafraid, into the Legion's mightiest battle-lines. Never did the courage of Azeroth's forces falter when the light of the Prince was upon them, nowhere did the demonic fiends of the Twisting Nether taste victory where the Knights of the Storm rode. In his mortal existence, the Prince had sought peace with his enemies, and time and again he had succeeded and averted needless bloodshed and war. Though there had been those who had denounced him and called him weak for being a man of peace, countless more owed their lives to his steadfast devotion to an ideal of reconciliation and unity. In a world of war he had shone all people a better way. And when at last the time had come to fight, never had his own determination faltered. His spirit, brilliant and untarnished, was a beacon in the darkness brought by the burning shadow, Azeroth's torch-bearer. Nowhere in all the universe could the demons hope to find a darkness that the Prince of Light would not illuminate. And the Knights of the Storm knew true value of their Prince in this great battle, and they would follow him forevermore.

The Prince of Light.

Sidebar - The Wolf and the Warrior

Throughout orcish history, since its very dawn on the world of lost Draenor, the legend of the Wolf and the Warrior has been told and re-told time and again. Every expression of orcish culture, every tribe and clan, had their own version of the tale. The orcs of the Last Age tell it thusly - When the demons of the Legion overwhelmed Orgrimmar and forced its evacuation, many brave and celebrated warriors remained behind in the city to cover the retreat of their people. None was more venerated than Varok Saurfang, High Overlord of the Horde. Legions of nightmarish horrors surrounded the brave orc, only to be hewn apart by his great axe. As the last of the orc refugees fled the city, Saurfang vanished beneath a tide of fiendish demons.

The last few witnesses to the great warrior's fall also tell of the miracle that happened moments later - a great howl echoed across the land of Durotar. From within the Legion's own ranks erupted a mighty and terrible beast - a giant wolf, larger than the great mounts of the orcs, its fur glowing like grey moonlight, its eyes ablaze with divine fury. The wolf tore through the demon armies until it reached where Saurfang had fallen, and when its paw touched the fallen orc, the light that surrounded it seemed to flow around Saurfang's body. The orc rose shakily to his feet and clambered atop the back of the great wolf, who bounded off through the ranks of the Legion, vanishing like the mother moon covered by a dark cloud. Varok Saurfang was never seen again - his body and armaments were never recovered.

Those who tell tales of Saurfang's fall also speak of the legends that began soon after. Throughout the world, from the Nightmare-infested lands of Kalimdor, to the blighted battlefields of the eastern kingdoms, to the frozen wastes of Northrend, wherever the Horde forces teetered on the brink of defeat against truly wicked foes, a powerful orc warrior riding a mighty grey wolf would suddenly appear, axe in hand, ready to slaughter the forces of evil and win the day for his people. And when the battle had ended, in inevitable victory, the warrior would ride off astride the great wolf with nary a word.

The Wolf and the Warrior

Sidebar - The Titan's Butchers

When the Legion finally returned, the mogu were ready. They had heeded the word of the Black Dragon King, the Storm-Eater, He Who Would Reign for a Thousand Ages. The Black Dragon King, who had returned them to the true path of honor, the service of the Titans. Who had returned them to glory, to the dominion over the lesser races. The Black Dragon King, who had torn out the heart of the hated mantid infestation, who had broken the August Celestials. A new age of prosperity had come to the sacred lands of Mogu'Shan, the empire's previous name banished from memory forevermore. Those who had not fled had died. All who came upon them died. The world learned to fear its mightiest children. When the Legion came, the mogu surged forth to war in their thousands, a great army not seen since the first age of the Thunder King. They did not break. They could not. The demons came and the demons died. Great Mogu'Shan held, inviolate, impregnable, even as all other lands burned and the sky turned black with the smoke of ruin. When at last the Final Titan awoke, the mogu still numbered thousands, and they roared in celebration as the heard the Final Titan's voice. Their ultimate purpose fulfilled. Their duty complete. The Final Titan took every one of them into her great soul. Within her, they slumbered and dreamed. There would be more battles, and soon. Soon the mightiest soldiers of the Titans would be called to war once again. Soon they would march to war. Without mercy. Without pity. Without weakness. All who stood before the Titan would perish screaming beneath the blades of her butchers.

Butchers of the Titan's Legion

[Golden Yak]

Volume One, Chapter Three - The Army of Light and the Titan Infernals

The Army of Light

Sargeras' fury was stoked hotter by his injuries, and his fel green flames reflected this as they grew brighter. The stump of Sargeras' horn smouldered with sickly green light and flames licked out of his cracked visage. In spite of Azeroth's defiance though, he knew victory was only a matter of time. While Azeroth had conjured a mighty force that continued to decimate the Burning Legion, she had no more reinforcements to call forth. Every warrior she lost could not be replaced, and even now moment by moment their number began to dwindle, starlight avatars winking out under the weight of the enemy's forces, slaying thousands of demons before their fall but falling all the same. The Legion continued to pour out of the Nether, showing no signs of slowing. While most of the Legion's armada of ships had been decimated by Azeroth's earlier maneuvering, the sheer number of demonic soldiers was enough to ultimately crush all resistance. Sargeras said as much to his enemy, his words carrying across the void to her. He intended to break her of her defiant spirit before destroying her, make her realize the hopelessness of her situation.

Azeroth listened at first, then at once turned her head aside, looking away, past the roiling Netherstorms at a still-visible patch of starry darkness. It was as if she had heard another voice, a call audible only to her. She then turned back to Sargeras, and gave a confident smile. Sargeras' bluster died away, as he realized what it was his enemy had heard. He heard it now too.

All across the Nether-shrouded system, flares of light blazed into being. The light did not fade, but continued to burn brighter and brighter, pushing back the stormy curtain of Netherspace. In the dark now hung thousands of shining vessels. The largest were like great castles and fortresses made of bright colored crystal, encased in artful hulls of metal and pearl. Around each one beings of glowing light and transcendent geometries hovered like fireflies around a torch. Ship and entity alike poured forth a glorious light, the cosmic energy of creation made manifest as radiance of impossible beauty. The naaru had come, bringing with them the limitless power of the Light. Alongside the naaru vessels were countless smaller ships, like silver sailing vessels whose open decks swirled with bands of arcane light, holding back the ravages of open space. Sails of arcane brilliance bore them through the void, and on their bridges stood legions of armored warriors garbed in cloth that hung across bodies of pure energy - the ethereals. All the cabals of fallen K'aresh were represented - the Ethereum, the Protectorate, the Consortium, and more. They were joined by the sapphire vessels of the lemurians, their void-ravens arranged in great flocks. The misshapen metal hulks of the mekkanoi swung into position alongside the great living star-leviathans of the zuhnai. A dazzling variety of space-going vessels could be seen, each one carrying legions soldiers and spell-casters gathered from a hundred worlds. For millennia the naaru had crossed the stars, seeking out peoples and cultures who shared the highest of ideals of peace, justice, and unity. Assembled to free the universe from the evils that would consume it, the Army of Light had come.

The naaru take to the field.

At the fore of the great army's fleet was Tempest Keep, the flagship of the naaru and commanding vessel. Surrounded by its satellite vessels, the colossal star-fortress bore the mightiest of the Army of Light's forces - the indomitable draenei, garbed in immaculate armor glowing alabaster and glittering silver, their crystalline swords and maces held ready and glowing runes blazing on their brows. Each draenei seemed to glow within of a light all their own, swelling them from within and making them seem the equal of the Legion's most diabolical forces. The draenei mustered in the thousands aboard the outer decks of their vessels, and with a cry of praise to Azeroth and the Light they raced to the edges of their ships and leapt off. As the draenei streamed out into the void, naaru would swoop low over them, their light reaching out to embrace the draenei, and carrying them towards the battlelines where the Burning Legion fought. All across the fleet the same thing occurred - alien warriors ferrying into battle by radiant naaru, as vessels trained their weapons on the demon horde.

Sargeras gaped in disbelief as this new threat moved to engage his forces. His Legion had shattered countless worlds, burned millions of races, yet never had he witnessed an alliance such as this. Never had he anticipated so organized a resistance. The Demon Titan barely noticed Azeroth begin to move, but to his surprise the enemy Titan had begun to move away from him, away from the battle-lines, though she her gaze met his evenly as she did so. She was moving back towards the point in the system where she'd originally slept in nascency - she was retreating. Sargeras snarled in disbelief and confusion - the move made no tactical sense. Rather than pressing the advantage she'd gained, she'd instead left Sargeras free to counter the newly arrived threat. Sargeras turned away from Azeroth and angrily bawled orders to his Legion, sending great hordes of demons wheeling about to face the Army of Light. Another multitude he called to his side and, spreading his fiery wings, he turned and began to move in pursuit of Azeroth. There would be no escape from his wrath. Sargeras gaze fell upon the distant Titan, and spied near her two other sources of light. Hanging in the void near Azeroth were the two companions that had watched over her since the very dawning of her nascency - Azeroth's moons, the White Lady and the Blue Child. Reflecting Azeroth's arcane light, the two moons gleamed brilliantly in the darkness. Within Azeroth's mind, the memories of her Titan brethren told her the function of the blue moon, while her own dreams explained the true nature of the white. It was time for both celestial bodies to fulfill their intended purpose.

[Golden Yak]

Azeroth and the White Lady

With a wave of her colossal hand, Azeroth sent a band of arcane light spiraling towards the Blue Child. Upon the azure surface of the moon stood immense structures of Titan make - artifacts of the Pantheon placed there at the conclusion of their ancient efforts to bring order to Azeroth's slumbering worldsoul. The arcane signal sent by Azeroth flashed across the lunar surface, racing over miles and miles of machinery, then suddenly plunged down into the sprawling city-sized mechanism. Within the innermost chamber of the machine-complex, the signal at last reached its intended target, a figure seated upon a great ornate throne. For an eternity he had watched over the world that Azeroth had been, his duty given to him by his revered masters, the Pantheon themselves. He had watched the world and its people, their triumphs and tragedies, their perseverance in the face of cosmically calculated odds and their defiance of any declaration, any judgment that would seek to steal the future from them. The watcher had defied his own duty out of admiration of the tenacity of the mortals that had devoted their lives to their world, and unbeknownst to them the miraculous being that lay within that world. Though he had possessed the power to destroy them, had had instead granted them the chance to fight on, and in their constant struggles against their fate had unknowingly given to Azeroth invaluable lessons that would decide the fate of all worlds.

The arcane power that now crackled through the moon's machinery told the watcher that his vigil was over. Only the will of the Titans could command him, and now at last the command was given. It was time for him to do more than watch. It was time for all his kind to do more than watch. Reaching out his will into the mechanisms he commanded them to activate. Raw power thrummed through fantastic mechanisms, colossal machine components grinding to life and re-ordering themselves into spectacular new configurations. Towers burst upwards through the moon's crust, grinding gears ripped open canyons. The surface of the moon cracked like an egg, shedding mountainous chunks of azure stone. As the last of the moon crumbled away, the vast Titan-crafted machine within was exposed, a great metallic ring whose center crackled with arcane lightning. At the apex of the ring-device, the watcher stood, guiding the works of the fantastic device. The arcane lighting with the ring flared violently, then the space within unfolded like a yawning vortex, showing a million stars swirling within its depths. The call had been answered. Algalon the Observer had summoned all his kin to the battle. For an eternity they had obeyed the edicts of the Titan Pantheon to watch over the universe. Now, the final Titan who could command their loyalty had given them a new task. At long last, the constellar were going to war.

The call is given.

In fantastic multitudes they came forth - ethereal giants made of living stars, constellations come to life. Many resembled great humanoids like Algalon, but the constellar were living stars and could wear any shape they pleased - the humanoid form had simply been one that many constellar had adopted in emulation of the Titans. There were those that appeared as huge celestial serpents, others that soared forth on equine lower-bodies. Some took the form of beasts and monsters, great bears and snarling lions, fanged draconic creatures and bestial sphinxes. Images conjured from the mythology of a million worlds that the constellar had watched over since their pact with the Titans was forged an eternity ago. Racing out of the mystical stellar gate the Titans had built, the constellar surged forth like a galaxy come to life. Brandishing shields and swords made of stars, the constellar soared towards the Burning Legion. The Legion now suffered attack on three fronts - the newly arrived constellar, the Army of Light, and Azeroth's own indomitable forces. Howling in fury, Sargeras was forced to break off his pursuit of Azeroth and direct his forces against their enemies. The Demon Titan moved to assault the gravest threat, the mighty constellar, hacking at the celestial giants. Though he slew them with every swing of Gorribal, the mighty beings commanded powers that even the Demon Titan respected, and swarmed him like wolves attacking a bear, cutting at him with blades of starlight and shedding burning blood with every strike.

With the Legion assaulted on all sides and Sargeras distracted, Azeroth at last turned her attention to the demons still infesting her surface. The attacking hordes cut at her forests and clawed apart her mountains, pouring fel pollution into her wounds that made her feel weak. They would have to be dealt with before she could make her next move. Though she had released all of the forces into the aether that she could to combat the Burning Legion, there were still defenders she could call upon now, defenders so closely tied with her very being that she had not been able to send them forth as she had her other armies. They had been there with her at the very dawn of her existence, and would be with her as long as she lived. As demons hacked at her surface, she sent her summons inwards, deep, deep into her very core, and brought her very oldest children forth.

The elementals rage

On the surface, demons felt Azeroth shudder. The great burning wounds they had cut into her which had blazed with poisonous green fel now suddenly began to gush arcane light in great torrents. Geysers of pure arcane energy erupted all around them, sending sheathes of light roaring across Azeroth's surface. Demons howled as the arcane storms devoured them, the weakest among them burnt to cinders in an instant. Stronger demons screeched out spells and sorceries to defend themselves. Eredar and nathrezim chanted protections and tried to conjure the power to somehow fight back. Annihilan bawled furiously for their forces to hold fast, seeking some enemy to attack. On one rocky shore, overlooking a vast shimmering sea, the mighty annihilan leading the invading force bellowed for his troops to rally, clinging to the heaving landscape that had seemed so helpless against their ravaging moments ago. The pitlord watched with growing disbelief as a wave taller than mountains slowly rose up before him and then came crashing down with awesome force. At the crest of the wave was Neptulon, the Tidehunter. Elsewhere, canyons that the Legion had torn open in Azeroth's surface suddenly heaved close, crushing millions of demons in jaws of rock. Bursting up from underground came massive giants of stone, like living mountains, crushing infernals and fel reavers underfoot like children's toys. At the fore of this army of giants was Therazane, the Stonemother. Volcanoes burst across Azeroth, spewing forth blazing magma and burning flames that incinerated countless demons. Erupting from the largest came Conflagra, the Eternal Blaze, queen of the fire elementals. Demons that attempted to flee were caught up in tornadoes and hurricanes and dashed to pieces at the command of Thunderaan, the Stormlord. Unstoppable, unforgiving, the elementals of Azeroth raged across their mother's surface, purging the demons wherever they found them. Thrashing and bellowing beneath the ocean waves, Mannoroth fought with the viciousness born of an eternity of demon crusading, but all his strength was futile against Neptulon. With a surge of effort, Neptulon encased the demon general in a tomb of ice and hurled him bodily off of Azeroth's surface. Locked frozen in his prison, Mannoroth sailed off screaming silently into the darkness.

The seeds of the Legion's defeat were planted an eternity ago.

With the demons on her surface dealt with, Azeroth turned finally to the moon her mortal children had called the White Lady. The Titans had built nothing upon this celestial sphere, but in its own way it was of even greater significance than the moon that had once housed the constellar's stellar gate. Mortals for generations had worshiped the moon as a deity, in particular the night elves of Kalimdor. The kaldorei had seen the moon as the abode of Elune, the moon goddess, a benevolent deity of goodness and tranquility, a beacon to light the darkness. For millennia, they and other races that had revered the moon had filled it with their prayers, their hopes. They had made Elune a focus of their dreams for peace and their belief in the power of light over darkness, of good over evil. The moon's light grew brighter and brighter as Azeroth drew closer. Its surface shone like a star. It ceased to be something of rock and stone and through some miraculous alchemy became a sphere of pure light. There was one final child of Azeroth that had yet to be reunited with its mother. Azeroth now called Elune home.

The sphere of light merged with Azeroth, two beings of unfathomable power - one a radiant deity, the other a cosmic Titan, becoming one. Azeroth had carefully marshaled all of her strength for this moment, to tap this last and greatest reservoir of power and equip herself to win the final battle against the evil Sargeras represented. Azeroth's aura blazed brighter than ever, the light within her closing over canyons and craters torn open by the demons. The last of the fel flame that had marred her faded away - once again forests of solid light grew and covered her surface, oceans and rivers swelled, mountains renewed themselves. Azeroth's marvelous armor was restored, gleaming and perfect. Her shining hair trailed out behind her, as if stirred by cosmic winds. Finally, two immense angelic wings of radiant starlight unfolded from her back, gleaming like galaxies. With a thunderous motion, Azeroth soared to battle, sailing forth on cosmic pinions.

[Crawclaw]

Kudos to you, this is such a cool idea and you're really doing it justice. I can't wait to see what else you come up with!

[Golden Yak]

Well wait no further cuz here's the next bit.
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The Titan Infernals

All the forces arrayed in battle were dumb-founded at the cosmic spectacle before them. Azeroth sailed through the void like a comet, bright and beautiful, scattering demons with every flap of her great wings. New strength surged through her forces. The naaru sang joyously at the sight of their most glorious hope. Sargeras fumed and raged as the constellar broke off their attack on him and moved to engage the Legion. Spreading his own fiery wings wide, Sargeras brandished Gorribal and leapt towards Azeroth, the two cosmic winged Titans hurtling towards each other on a collision course. At the last moment, as Sargeras swung his wicked blade around in an arc, Azeroth's wings pumped suddenly and sent her soaring up, over the head of the Demon Titan. Furious, Sargeras dove and wheeled about, bracing for an attack, only to see his enemy soaring away from him into the heart of the great battle between the Legion and forces arrayed against it. Sargeras, who cared nothing for his own forces, had underestimated Azeroth and her bond with her armies. She would leave them to fight alone no longer. Bellowing with rage, Sargeras wings thundered as he flew in pursuit.

Azeroth drew up above the still-raging battle. The Netherstorms still raged across light-years of space, spilling out the demon multitude. To her left, the Army of Light held strong, naaru and their followers guarding their shared fleet. To her right, the constellar engaged the Legion, the giants of starlight reaping a wicked toll on the weaker demons. Beneath her, her armies fought tirelessly, arcane avatars of her mortal children fighting side by side. They had suffered many losses, but still they fought on, and now she could at last reinforce them. This final summoning would be the deathblow to the Legion. There was yet one race of living creature that had not yet been represented on the fields of battle. They had slumbered within her to this moment, until her powers had reached their apex and she was at last ready to give them form.

The supreme dragonflight is born.

Flinging both arms wide, Azeroth brought forth her grandest defenders - from her outstretched arms soared colossal dragons of pure white light, shining and perfect. Their roars echoing impossibly across the length and breadth of the cosmic battlefield, the dragons swooped into battle, breathing gouts of pure white flame. Demons shrieked as the flame unmade them in an instant, while the forces of Azeroth were renewed and revitalized when bathed in the white fires. Thousands and thousands of great wyrms, vast as the Dragon Aspects of legend, soared across space leaving trails of light behind them, arriving in an instant wherever the forces arrayed against the Legion needed them most. Fanged maws snapped shut over eredar warlocks, swallowing them whole. They pulled doomships apart like a wolves eviscerating a stag. White flame devoured clouds of flying demons. A hideous doom lord aimed a blade at the neck of a passing dragon, only for another of the beasts to close its jaws over the fiend's head and tear it off with a twist of its serpentine neck.

Sargeras, seeing his forces withering in the face of this potent new threat, seeing the terrible Legion he had forged over innumerable millennia taken apart effortlessly like so many of the mortal races they had exterminated, screamed in denial and launched himself towards Azeroth. Azeroth turned as the Demon Titan barreled into her with all his strength and fury, the force of their collision blasting their shared armies away from them. Blazing like a cosmic furnace, fel fire erupting outwards like solar prominence, Sargeras attacked again and again with all his might. Blows that had shattered worlds and waves of fury that had unmade stars crashed into Azeroth, washing over her armored form. Before, she might have withered in the face of the Demon Titan's onslaught. But Azeroth had come into her full power - every blow of Gorribal was fended off, every wave of fel flame broke over her like a harmless breeze. Azeroth fought bare handed, turning aside every sword stroke with precise blows to Sargeras' limbs, every failed attack serving only to fuel the Demon Titan's fury and make him more reckless. Finally, one arcing strike left Sargeras over-extended - with a blow that could have cracked apart a planet, Azeroth slammed a fist into the Demon Titan's armored chest. The fel-infused armored was blasted apart by the impact, falling in fragments away from Sargeras' torso. Bellowing in rage, Sargeras swept his blade back, aiming to decapitate. Azeroth shrugged down under the blade and snapped out another blow into her foe's armored pectoral - with another thunderous impact, Sargeras was flung back, his armored pauldron crumbling loose. Surging forth immediately, Sargeras brought his blade arcing up, but Azeroth dodged back just out of striking distance, then whirled and kicked out - Sargeras howled as her armored boot crashed into his side, breaking open another rent in his armor. Sargeras opened his jaws wide and spewed out a great roiling cloud of green fel fire - Azeroth brought her wings curling around herself, shielding her from the flames. Flinging her wings wide to brush away the last of the fel fire, Azeroth brought both hands forwards and sent a great bolt of blazing arcane energy lancing into Sargeras, blasting apart his damaged chestplate and hurling the Demon Titan back.

Gathering himself, Sargeras' fury for a moment ebbed as an impossible realization came to him. All around him, the once seemingly endless hordes of demons streaming in from Netherspace had begun to thin. The unimaginable truth had at last become apparent - his Burning Legion, his invincible, limitless army, had been nearly depleted. A universe of demons had been flung into combat against the last defenders of a failed cosmos and, against all reason, the demons were going to fail. In moments more, the last of his forces would be spent. Attrition, the factor that had played a part in defeating so many of the Legions enemies, had now bled his own his Legion dry. This could not be. And yet, with his fury overcome by shock, Sargeras could see that it was so.

Since the very beginning of the battle, the Demon Titan had been matched move for move by his enemy. Azeroth had calculated the perfect battle strategy to counter his Legion. Sargeras realized that here, at last, represented an enemy that surpassed him. This was a foe whose strength eclipsed his, who could truly defeat him. Indeed, his every advantage in the battle was gone, taken away through the superior tactics and stratagems of his Titan adversary. Horror crawled through Sargeras. The unthinkable was happening. He would lose. He would be defeated, destroyed. His glorious vision for the future, a new cosmos made in his image, would be undone. The darkness that lay beyond the cosmos, the loathsome chaos that his every action had been meant to fight against, would be victorious. His Titan foe could not hope to comprehend the true enemy - she would never do what was necessary to secure the future against the Void Lords. He could not fail. He must not fail.

There was only one way. One way to turn the tide and seize victory. Glaring coldly at Azeroth, Sargeras gave one thunderous flap of his wings that sent him sailing back to the edge of the Netherstorm, putting him on the very cusp of the Twisting Nether. Azeroth hesitated, having expected Sargeras to charge her in fury again. She had not anticipated that the Demon Titan would try to leave the battle. Sargeras saw his enemy's hesitation. It was the opening he needed. In truth, he had not imagined that his Burning Crusade would ever require what he was planning to do now. He had only expected to employ this final tactic if the worst of his fears had come true, and the Void Lords had found a nascent Titan to employ as their vessel. He had devised this strategy to counter such a possibility. But now, he would gladly employ it to crush Azeroth once and for all.

Sargeras sent his will deep into the Twisting Nether, calling forth his ultimate weapon. The Netherstorms engulfing space suddenly surged to greater fury than ever before. The demon hordes still streaming through the gulf in reality shrieked as they were devoured by the raging currents of the Nether. The chaos spilled out across the battlefield, consuming demons and their foes alike. The Army of Light's fleet was sent into disarray, every ship tossed by the raging storms and wheeling about in desperate efforts to survive. Constellar fell back, those who moved too late sucked into the Nether and dashed apart by the chaotic energies. Azeroth's forces leapt back as the magical firmament on which they fought dissolved. White dragons swooped to and fro, gathering up starlight warriors and carrying them to safety. Azeroth spread her arms wide and forged a shell of mystical protection around as many of her allies as she could, holding back the worst of the storms. She could not guess at Sargeras' strategy - was the Demon Titan attempting to destroy everything, or escape into the Twisting Nether? Her eyes found Sargeras, who stood immovable in the heart of the raging storms, and his burning gaze locked on hers. The Demon Titan was grinning.

Sargeras unleashes his final, most terrible weapon.

From within the raging Netherstorms, something immense moved. Vast and terrible shapes drew closer through the storms, like great leviathans breaching the surface of a raging sea. It was their very approach that had been the cause of the storms, their immense power distorting the Nether itself as they drew closer to realspace. One by one, they emerged from the Twisting Nether, and all saw what Sargeras had wrought - six colossal beings of planetary scale, each one as vast as Titan, rough humanoid figures of broken black stone that blazed from within with green fel fire. Their twisted features were stretched in eternal howls, hateful eyes glaring with fel, mouths pouring forth emerald flame. All those present quailed with fear as the immense beings came forth. The last of the demons swarming from the Nether were scorched by continent-sized gouts of flame erupting from the giants' bodies, or dragged down screaming to impact on their black surfaces by their sheer gravity. The Army of Light, the constellar, and Azeroth's defenders all shrank at the sight of the fiends. As she looked upon the hideous faces of the giants, Azeroth realized with horror that she recognized them. Their features were broken black stone twisted with fury and madness, but each of the six colossals bore the face of one of the Titan Pantheon.

Aggramar. Norgannon. Eonar. Golganneth. Khaz'goroth. And Highfather Aman'Thul. Their shattered bodies had been somehow reassembled and were now animated by blazing fel fire, creatures akin to the infernals but on a vastly larger scale. This, at last, was Sargeras' greatest weapon revealed. The bodies of his former brethren, distorted and transformed into demonic horrors.

The Titan Infernals.

[Golden Yak]

Sidebar - Azeroth and Elune

Long ago in Azeroth's ancient past, the Old God Y'Shaarj was slain, and the eldritch fiend's death tore open a wound in Azeroth's surface. The Titanic lifeblood that flowed forth from the injury was transformed by the Pantheon into the Well of Eternity, a vortex of vast arcane energy that spread the light of magic across the world. After the Pantheon departed, a newly born mortal race of trolls found the Well, drawn to settle near it by its miraculous energies. The energy changed the trolls over the generations, slowly molding their form to be more akin to that of the Titans themselves. At the dawn of their history, a matriarch of changing trolls named E'lun learned to tap the arcane power of the well, becoming one of the first mortal beings to wield the power of sorcery. E'lun taught her new art to her people for decades, becoming revered as a being who had touched the divine. At the twilight of her life, when the white moon of Azeroth gleamed fully in the night sky, E'lun gathered her people and told them that she would always watch over them for all time, for the spirit was eternal and the light of life would shine on in the darkness, as the moon brought light to the night. E'lun strode out across the Well of Eternity and, bidding her grieving folk farewell, she let herself sink forever beneath the arcane waters, seeming to fade away into the reflection of the white moon on its surface. Always remembering E'lun's final words, her people continued to give homage to her as if she truly did watch over them, every spell they cast a prayer to her spirit to guide them and protect them. E'lun's spirit, resting within the Well of Eternity, drew the hopes and prayers of her people to her like the gravity of a world, the souls of thousands of her kin touching hers and imparting it with a spark of power. Over the centuries, the power of E'lun's soul grew and changed, bathed in the worship of mortals and the radiance of Azeroth's arcane light, and rose up on currents of moonlight to watch over her mortal children as a true deity, a mortal soul ascended to godhood. In time, the trolls who settled around the Well became the kaldorei, the night elves, and their spirit-protector became Elune, the goddess of the moon and the starlight.

Elune-Adore

Sidebar - Deceiver's End

As the Army of Light and the constellar joined Azeroth's armies in battle against the Burning Legion, Sargeras ordered his mightiest agents, the eredar, to take to the field and personally take command the demons. Mightiest among the eredar was Kil'jaeden the Deceiver, ruler of Argus in the distant past and scourge of a thousand worlds. Kil'jaeden's might had only risen in the centuries since he was cast out of Azeroth, the failed invasion he'd led feeding his loathing of the world. Now, not only was the doom of Azeroth at hand, but the draenei - the exiles - the last of the eredar who had spurned Sargeras' offer to join the Burning Legion had appeared. Though the draenei prophet Velen had perished years ago, Kil'jaden still held hatred in his heart for his defiant brethren, and vowed that he would at last see the end of them. Gathering a great host of doomguard to his side, Kil'jaden magically increased his size to become a giant and conjured great bat-like wings to carry him through the void towards the draenei, who flew within the aegis of the naaru. With cries of battle on both sides, the draenei host and Kil'jaeden's demons collided. Crystal maces stoved in demon skulls. Fel-iron swords cut out draenic hearts. Kil'jaeden fought with a long lash of enchanted flame, its every crack lashing open shining silver armor and ripping apart the blue flesh of his foe. The draenei fought fearlessly, the Light glowing from within their forms making them the equal of any demon. One flank of Kil'jaeden's guard collapsed and draenei vindicators cut down the doomguard with crystal sabres, exposing the eredar lord to three approaching naaru. Snarling, Kil'jaeden readied his sorceries - the naaru were formidable, but he had slain their kind before and three alone could not summon enough Light to threaten him.

Too late Kil'jaeden realized that the naaru were not attacking - the three glowing creatures suddenly altered their course, flying towards one another. The naaru merged into a single form, a sphere of light that grew brighter and brighter. THe naaru had surrendered their individual forms to perform a summoning - to call forth a soul from within the Light. Taking form in space as an elegant giant glowing with the Light was a form Kil'jaeden instantly recognized - it was Velen the Prophet, no longer bowed with age but standing tall and wondrous, an avatar of shining illumination that equaled Kil'jaeden in size and far surpassed him in power. Kil'jaeden struck out at his hated enemy, but his power was nothing before the Light - his demonic lash turned to cinders in his hand. The Deceiver turned and attempted to flee, but with a gesture Velen bound him in strands of pure Light. Velen drew in his former friend, the power of the Light holding the demon still, and told him that his evil was at last at an end - it was time for Velen to return to the Light, and his brother would be coming with him. As the horrible radiance engulfed them both, Kil'jaeden felt it burn through to his very soul. Howling in futile defiance, Kil'jaden was dragged screaming into the Light.

Velen the Ascendant

Sidebar - Lords of the Void

Sargeras had once been a great and noble champion of the Pantheon, a being of valor and principle who cherished life and sought to protect it. Tragically, his desire to safeguard the universe was corrupted by his own despair and hopelessness when he was confronted with the terrible reality of the Void. A malevolent evil lay within this most chaotic of dimensions - the Void Lords. Ancient beings of pure darkness and infinite malice, the Void Lords hungered to consume the material universe and transform it into a realm of torment, where every living thing was their eternal slave. The Void Lords were the architects of the Old Gods, and had flung the eldritch abominations into the material universe to seek out and infect nascent Titans so that the Void Lords might use them as vessels, for without a sufficiently powerful vessel to inhabit the Void Lords were trapped in their own dark dimension.

Sargeras became convinced that the Void Lords could only be thwarted if the universe were completely unmade - better for all life within it to be annihilated entirely than to exist as playthings of the Void Lords. All nascent Titans would need to be destroyed as well - any that lived were potential pawns of the Void Lords, vectors for the corruption of the Void to spread. Sargeras became utterly convinced of the necessity of his plan, that only the direst of actions could avoid the most terrible of fates. Thus, with this original good intention, Sargeras embarked on his Burning Crusade. With every world destroyed, Sargeras' heart grew more tainted and corrupt, his atrocities justified as necessary to avoid the loathsome chaos of the Void.

The Void beckons...

[Golden Yak]

Volume One, Chapter Four - Fall of the Destroyer

The Rage of a Titan

The Pantheon had traveled the universe for countless eons, bringing life and order to a million worlds. Sargeras had ended their lives in one single terrible battle, all of his fear and hopelessness turned to fury and unleashed upon his former brethren. He had unleashed a fel storm of cataclysmic power that had scorched the Pantheon and blasted their bodies apart, and in their death Sargeras had interred their pitiful remains upon the world of Nihilum, renaming it Doomworld forevermore. But Sargeras had not seen fit to let the broken forms of his brethren lie in peace. As he had journeyed throughout the universe on his Burning Crusade, he had shattered world after world, and within several had found the slumbering worldsouls of nascent Titans. None had been as powerful as Azeroth, but Sargeras had known that every nascent Titan was a potential pawn of the true enemy of the cosmos, the loathsome Void Lords. Every broken worldsoul had spilled out cosmic energy into the universe, and Sargeras' demons had feasted on the energy, twisting it towards destructive ends, defiling it and transmuting it into fel energy. Sargeras soon devised a terrible use for the abundance of fel at his disposal. He sent millions of his demon slaves, tothrezim crafters and gan'arg laborers, to reassemble the broken bodies of the Pantheon, rebuilding them with netherstone and infusing them with the corrupted blood of countless demon sacrifices. Finally, Sargeras bound the immense fel essence of the slain worldsouls into the twisted hulks of his former brethren, reanimating them into his ultimate weapon - the Titan Infernals. He hid his vile creations in the furthest reaches of the Twisting Nether, keeping them as a final contingency in the event that the Void Lords should succeed in bringing a nascent Titan under their sway.

Now, having been bested by Azeroth at every turn, Sargeras had no choice but to unleash his abominable weapons. Before the horrified gaze of the gathered defenders of the cosmos, the Titan Infernals were unleashed, six terrible colossi all devoted to the destruction of Azeroth. As the last of hope of the universe looked upon what her enemy had wrought, she felt a new, unknown emotion creep throughout her being. It was not the feeling of fear - Azeroth had long ago conquered fear.

This feeling was anger. This was wrath. For this terrible act of desecration, Sargeras would pay with his very existence.

The Demon Titan would break Azeroth's spirit before dealing the death blow.

With a wordless command that echoed in the mind, Azeroth called for her armies and her constellar and naaru allies to remain engaged with the surviving Legion forces, knowing they would be helpless against the Titan Infernals. Slowly, the Infernals spread out and surrounded Azeroth, encircling her like predators seeking prey. Beyond them, standing at the ragged edge of the Netherstorm, was Sargeras. The Destroyer gloated as his enemy confronted the broken bodies of those who had cared for her in her nascency, relishing her torment. But Sargeras knew that even his mightiest weapons would not secure his victory. He needed to repair the damage that Azeroth had dealt him. Turning his back on the spectacle of his creations engaging their foe, Sargeras stretched his hands out into the Twisting Nether, willing the chaotic energies within to come to his call. Sargeras had become a furnace of fel energy over the eons, and now he drew in every last mote he could sense to renew himself. Tendrils of green fel fire, rivers of world-shattering power, began to flow out of the Nether and wind themselves into his body. Slowly, his wounds began to close, his flames grew hotter. If Azeroth survived the Infernals, he would be ready to deal her the final blow.

With a howl that echoed across infinity, the six Infernals hurled themselves at Azeroth. The Infernal built from the body of Aman'thul reached her first, the abomination's face so wracked with fury and madness that it no longer resembled the proud and noble Highfather. The Infernal's screaming visage vanished in an explosion of flame and stone as Azeroth's fist obliterated it with a single blow. Azeroth's fist carried on, sinking deep into the molten body of the fiend, and with an explosion of arcane force the monster was blasted apart, fragments of black stone and meteorites of blazing fel forming a vast cloud hanging in space. Scorched by the immense release of fel energy, Azeroth was slowed for just a moment and the remaining Infernals fell upon her. They battered her with fists the size of moons and breathed torrents of fel energy like solar flares. An Infernal fell away as a colossal blow smashed it in half, both fragments blazing with poisonous flame. Another had its head torn loose, a geyser of fel energy gouting from the wound. From the broken bodies of the slain Titan Infernals, thousands of lesser infernals fell like meteor storms across Azeroth's surface, spreading devastation and corruption as the elementals mounted a desperate defense.

With a monumental effort, Azeroth hurled away the last three Titan Infernals, releasing an awesome burst of cosmic force that blasted them apart and extinguished their fel energy. Her body was scorched and blackened, streaked with fel corruption and bleeding arcane energy. Azeroth was victorious, but the battle had robbed her of much of her strength, and she shuddered with exhaustion as she turned to face the true enemy. At the edge of the Nethersorm, Sargeras blazed like a vile supernova, gorged on fel energy drawn from the Twisting Nether. Sargeras flexed his colossal form, breaking free of the battered and ruined remnants of his armor. His black stone skin was cracked and leaking fel flames, his body covered in blazing geysers of corruption. Sargeras brandished Gorribal and gave a horrible grin. Victory was now within his grasp. Indeed, now that the Demon Titan had regained his full might, while Azeroth's power ebbed, it was all but certain.

[Golden Yak]

The Final Conflict

Sargeras came upon Azeroth like an unstoppable cosmic cataclysm, waves of fel flame blasting forth from his body like supernovae. Again and again he struck, Gorribal crashing into Azeroth's armored form and ripping open great rents in her body that bled the cosmic energy that was her very lifeblood. With a savage thrust, Gorribal split open Azeroth's armored pauldron and cut against her neck, releasing a plume of arcane light and prying forth a cry of pain from the final Titan. Sargeras seized her in his talons, trying to force the blade in closer. Seeing their maker and mistress caught up in the Demon Titan's fury, Azeroth's armies moved to support her, legions of starry soldiers riding atop great white wyrms. Sensing their approach, Sargeras turned and grinned evilly at the puny fleas that thought to challenge him. His jaws opened and blazing fel flame rose up in his throat. He would obliterate Azeroth's forces in a gout of fel fire, heightening the agony and despair of his prey. With a desperate blow that crashed into Sargeras' face, Azeroth deflected the blast of flame, sparing her forces and eliciting a howl of pain and fury from the Demon Titan. Azeroth's legions swooped over the two struggling Titans, but instead of moving to attack Sargeras, they altered course and swooped towards Azeroth instead. Starlight warriors gripped the shining scales of their draconic carriers as they knifed through Azeroth's atmosphere and plunged directly at her surface, picking up speed as her gravity caught them. Without slowing down, the white dragons streaked down to her surface like comets and struck, vanishing into the surface in flashes of light. With every dragon and starlight battalion that merged with her, Azeroth felt her strength grow. Every defender, every warrior born of her life and light, returned to their source, their strength and spirit flowing through her. Azeroth would never fight alone.

As her forces vanished completely, becoming one with her once again, Azeroth's power swelled. With a mighty surge of strength, Azeroth hurled the Demon Titan back. Rejuvenated, Azeroth's power once again approached that of the Demon Titan. Furious, Sargeras came at his enemy again, determined to preserve his advantage. Gorribal cut arcs of devastating through the void, rending time and space, cutting again and again into Azeroth's body, but the final Titan gave as good as she got, and her blows split open Sargeras's form again and again, and his fel life-force spilled out in great plumes. The two Titans exchanged blasts of energy, Azeroth's cosmic force against Sargeras' fel corruption, driving both of them apart. Azeroth's allies seized the opportunity - the constellar began to move, leaving the remaining demon forces to the Army of Light and soaring towards Azeroth. As they flew, they changed, abandoning their various shapes and forms and becoming clouds of living stars, swirling around one-another and becoming a single great, glowing mass of twinkling lights. They gathered around Azeroth's arm, offering her their support, becoming an instrument that would let her match the might of Sargeras' blade Gorribal. They became a shield of starlight like a living galaxy, the entire race united in Azeroth's defense. Thus equipped, Azeroth moved to engage Sargeras again. The Demon Titan brandished his monstrous blade and charged.

The Demon Titan makes his final assault.

The two Titans came at one-another, their monumental clash sending shockwaves of power rippling throughout the star system. Sargeras struck with Gorribal again and again, each crashing uselessly against Azeroth's shield. Empowered by Azeroth's mighty aura, the constellar turned the dread blade again and again. With every strike, the shield unleashed cascades of cosmic energy that washed over Sargeras, neutralizing his fel power. Every blow stole more of the Demon Titan's strength, but his unquenchable fury fueled his relentless assault. The two Titans fell through the chaotic clouds of the Netherstorm until, at last, the clouds parted and an immense expanse of burning light shone beneath them - their battle had brought them to the very star that Azeroth had orbited in her nascency. Even the two colossal Titans were dwarfed by the immense celestial body, seen from afar as tiny figures against the burning star. After a furious clash, both Titans broke away and folded their fiery wings, allowing the gravity of the star to pull them towards it. The two stood impossibly on the surface of the star, feet sinking into the roiling corona as if two mortals warriors fought in a shallow stream. Arcs of cosmic flame washed over the Titans unheeded as they braced for battle and then charged at one-another in a run, thundering across the surface of the star.

With every cataclysmic strike, gouts of solar plasma erupted around the Titans, causing the star itself to shudder. The two Titans fought with equal fervor, Azeroth matching with skill and fortitude the savage might of the Demon Titan. Every blow the Destroyer struck on Azeroth's body tore open jagged canyons in her surface that bled arcane light. Azeroth's shield became a weapon too, its cosmic edge rending open the Demon Titan's stone flesh and spilling fel flames. Soon both Titans were wounded and bleeding, yet never once did either of their strength flag. The fate of the universe hung on this final battle, with a clear victor still undetermined.

Sargeras refused to accept that he had met his match. His opponent surpassed him in raw power, and the army of champions within Azeroth's soul gave her a wealth of combat experience and perspectives that Sargeras with all his millennia of one-sided conquests did not possess. But Sargeras knew that would taste victory, because he was willing to go to any length, commit any barbarism or atrocity necessary, in order to win. Bringing all of his seemingly limitless hatred to bear, Sargeras howled and leapt at Azeroth. Rather than striking with Gorribal, Sargeras balled his other hand into a fist and sent it crashing with all his might into Azeroth's shield. It was a blow like a colliding comet, a blow that would have broken a world, but against Azeroth's shield the Demon Titan's stone fist shattered. Fingers of black stone were crushed to rubble and fiery fel blood erupted from the wound. Azeroth's eyes glowed at the sight, thinking to seize an advantage against her wounded opponent, but she had underestimated the Demon Titan. Sargeras howled not in pain but in triumph, and a great wash of fel flame gouted from his broken wrist, pouring over Azeroth with a greater fury and intensity than any she had ever endured. Azeroth's arcane aura withered in the face of the Demon Titan's very life-force crashing into her, and for an instant she faltered.

Howling in triumph, Sargeras swung Gorribal in a lethal arc, and before the gaze of a horrified cosmos the dread blade sank deeply into Azeroth's side, cutting nearly halfway through the shining Titan's body. Azeroth's cry of agony reverberated cosmically throughout the solar system, causing the very star beneath the two to shudder and release eruptions of solar flame. Arcane radiance, the Titan's life-force, poured out of Azeroth's wound like a thousand floods, as tendrils of fel corruption ate their way across Azeroth's surface. The land around the chasm cut into her body turned black and crumbled away, the surface of her body erupted into fel green flames. Raging elementals fought against tidal-wave sized walls of green flame that poured across the land, devouring everything in their path and snuffing out elemental beings by the thousands with every passing moment. Reeling with agony, Azeroth gathered her will for a moment and brought her faltering strength to bear, grabbing hold of Sargeras' sword-arm, summoning up her might to free herself from the terrible weapon. With a leering grin, Sargeras suddenly wrenched Gorribal back, twisting the blade free from Azeroth's body in a surprise move. Azeroth's voice rang out in anguish again, even louder than before, as the gaping wound in her side was torn wider. Arcane light gushed out onto the surface of the star, a shimmering amethyst fluid that poured down the Titan's body in great rivulets. Her shining wings collapsed into fading flickers of arcane light. Her once-brilliant aura guttered and died, and with it the hope of the universe. Mortally wounded, Azeroth fell to her knees on the surface of the star, lacking even the strength to remain standing, to lift her shield in defense, barely even able to lift her head to glare defiantly at her foe, her features twisted with agony. Sargeras gloried in his victory - his greatest enemy was defeated. The Demon Titan had won. Cackling with maniac laughter, Sargeras drew Gorribal back for a final killing blow.

Then, in a blinding streak of light, the flame of hope was once again ignited.

[Golden Yak]

When Titans Fall

Like a piercing arrow of pure luminosity, the great naaru fortress-vessel of Tempest Keep soared between the two Titans. The naaru's dimensional fortress had shed its satellite ships, which had borne the many armies of draenei and other races to safety. While the two Titans had dueled, the vessel streaked through space at fantastic speeds towards them, avoiding curls of solar prominence and destructive arcs of fel and arcane power. The naaru within had not been able to bring themselves to leave Azeroth to duel alone, for she was the hope of the universe, the hope of a victory over more than just the ravaging Legion and their Demon Titan master. If they could make even the smallest of differences in the monumental clash between the two Titans, they would gladly risk their very existence. When the Demon Titan struck his blade deeply into Azeroth, the naaru knew that now was the moment. Just as Sargeras drew his blade back to deal the final blow, the naaru guided Tempest Keep unerringly, sending it soaring forth at the speed of light directly into the Demon Titan's left eye.

Sargeras reeled back screaming in pain. The dimensional fortress pierced deeply into the Demon Titan's head, bursting apart his ocular orb in an explosion of fel energy. The raging maelstrom of fel devoured the fortress almost instantly, and the naaru within gathered all of their power together and released it in one monumental blast of Light. The erupting arcane power of Tempest Keep and the naaru blasted outwards, sending spears of brilliant energy lancing into the Titan's head, causing greater pain still. Finally the raging fel flames extinguished the naaru, and they winked out of existence in small flares of Light, but their willing sacrifice had brought precious time. The naaru pilots of Tempest Keep had not been alone in their desire to aid Azeroth - thousands more naaru had followed in the fortress-vessel's wake. While Sargeras reeled from his injury, these naaru now soared towards Azeroth, glowing brighter and brighter as they called upon the cosmic energy of the Light. Each naaru lost definition as it flew, their crystalline bodies fading and becoming pure brilliance, surrendering their physical form to call forth the full extent of their power. Like a cloud of fireflies, the naaru poured down upon Azeroth, streaming into the great rent in her body. A cloud of pure Light infused itself into the Titan's wound, extinguishing the devouring green fel that still burned across her surface, staunching the flow of arcane life force, and rebuilding her geologic form. New life and strength flowed through Azeroth's body, as she drew not only upon the cosmic energies of the living universe, but also upon the limitless reservoirs of the Light that was the very foundation of the cosmos.

Rising up, Azeroth sent an unspoken command to the constellar that formed her shield. The living star-beings shifted and changed, and the shimmering shield become a massive sword of pure starlight. Sargeras, gripping his bleeding head, regained his senses just in time to perceive Azeroth bringing her new weapon up. With a bellowing war-cry, echoed by the innumerable warriors spirits that lived within her own Titanic soul, Azeroth brought the starlight blade down and cut off Sargeras's remaining hand, sending Gorribal wheeling out into space, its hilt still gripped by the severed hand of the Demon Titan. Fel green flames gouted from the stump of Sargeras' wrist, but in his shock Sargeras did not have the focus to bring the gushing power to bear against his enemy, and Azeroth stood prepared for such a tactic at any rate. Sargeras staggered back, his single eye sweeping back and forth between his foe and his own ruined limbs, before finally widening in shock. At last, Sargeras grasped the full reality of his utter defeat. Wordlessly, Azeroth leapt, her cosmic wings unfolding anew and sending her surging towards her foe. Azeroth swept her starlight back, overhead, and then brought it down in a lethal arc to slice deeply into Sargeras' chest.

The blade cut down through mile after mile of fel-corrupted Titanic strata, oceans of raging fel fire, and finally split apart the colossal fel-tainted mass that was the Demon Titan's heart. Sargeras screamed in denial as the blade pierced his very core, his body shuddering with his death throes. Fel energy burst from his countless injuries, spewing from his ruined eye and severed wrists, bursting forth from his howling maw. With one final effort, Azeroth channeled all of her cosmic might through her blade into the core of Sargeras' very being, burning away his fel power in a storm of arcane force. Sargeras' volcanic hide split apart, every chasm and fissure gouting the prismatic energy of the cosmos, and his death scream echoed across all of creation. Azeroth withdrew her blade, and a flap of her wings whisked her away from the ruined body of her great enemy. Sargeras' colossal form, flickering with the dying embers of fel power, teetered for a moment and then fell, crashing deeply into the burning surface of the sun. Slowly, as the universe looked on, the Demon Titan sank into the sun's fire, until his body was finally lost from sight.

The Final Titan was victorious. Sargeras, the Demon Titan, Lord of the Burning Legion, was dead.

The spirit of the Titans endures in their final champion.

[TheFirstOnes]

Is...Is it over? Cause...that was...a...really...damn...good....read.

:O

[Derpules]

I have no words Yak. I always liked your spider kingdom and Azshara write ups, but holy shit, man. Christ Metzin retires and you pump this out. My brain hurts in the best sort of way. Kudos!

[Golden Yak]

Is...Is it over?

Nope!

Cause...that was...a...really...damn...good....read.

:O

:D

I have no words Yak. I always liked your spider kingdom and Azshara write ups, but holy shit, man. Christ Metzin retires and you pump this out. My brain hurts in the best sort of way. Kudos!

Chris Metzen helped sculpt quite the universe, and it has taken firm hold of my imagination to be sure. Gonna get back to my other expansion projects one of these days, once Chronicles Vol.1 is all done and posted.

____________________________

Sidebar - The Breaking of the Legion

The remnants of the Burning Legion had seen the unthinkable - their lord and master, slain. As one, they turned and fled, racing back for the still-raging rents into the Twisting Nether as fast as they were capable. Azeroth's senses barely registered the demons' mass-retreat, but they drew her awareness nonetheless. Azeroth turned, her eyes narrowing, watching the last pitiful dregs of the Legion streaming towards the safety of the Nether. With a sweep of her starlight blade and a cry that was at once victorious and furious, Azeroth unleashed a supernova of arcane energy. The immense cascade of power shockwaved outwards towards the fleeing demons, washing over their ranks and scorching them to cosmic ash. The spirits of the demons, bound to the Twisting Nether, struggled desperately to escape there, but the ruinous energies unleashed by Azeroth could not be escaped even by fleeing to another realm of existence - the demons were utterly annihilated, their souls consumed, unable to find safety. Not a single demon who was felled in that conflagration would ever return.

Within the Twisting Nether itself, the demons who had remained behind on Legion-controlled demon worlds beheld every moment of the battle, observing through spy-portals and fel augeries. They saw the all-obliterating waves of arcane fury incinerate their fellows, then watched in horror as the arcane storm passed through the very portals the Legion had used to invade, portals that led directly to the Legion worlds. The arcane energies rained down on worlds throughout the Nether, scouring their surfaces of demonic presence and blasting some apart entirely. Demons scrambled to close the portals even as the arcane storm devoured them. All across the Nether, the Legion's vast world-spanning empire collapsed utterly. Nearly the entirety of the Legion was annihilated - only a fraction remained of the army that had once threatened all existence. These last remnants of the Legion would, in time, descend into strife and internecine warfare, endlessly battling one-another in a fruitless effort to claim Sargeras' authority. Utterly broken, the Legion would never rise again, for never again would there be a single force to unite them as Sargeras had.

The demons would never forget their ultimate defeat. Never stop hungering for revenge.

[TheFirstOnes]

Well hey, atleast we have the void, what's up with them? Did they find their "Void titan", that as stated to be the universes doom?

EDIT: Jesus, you have ALOT of lore there on wowpedia, makes me wonder if I can become that SSJGSSJ now.

- - - Updated - - -

Why hasn't blizz hired you yet?

[Golden Yak]

Volume One, Chapter Five - The Gift of Azeroth

Azeroth drifted in space above the star for what seemed like an age, falling into an exhausted slumber, regaining her strength. The constellar were gone - their powers had been burnt out in guiding the final deathblow against Sargeras. The remaining naaru watched over the Final Titan, while their dimensional ships brought the surviving Army of the Light to her surface. Draenei prayed to the Light to aid Azeroth, and were joined by legions of starlight warriors. Overhead, white dragons wheeled through the skies, their white-fire breath burning away any lingering clouds of fel corruption. Elementals moved across and through the Titan in vast numbers, repairing the damage wrought by Sargeras. At last, when every mountain was rebuilt, every forest regrown, every sea cleansed, the elementals joined the Army of Light and Azeroth's once-mortal children, solemnly and silently watching over them. Ethereals, ever pragmatic and practical, spent their time laboring over the surviving star-vessels until each once was restored to perfect working order. Still, the ethereals found reasons to linger around Azeroth, delaying their departure. Finally, when the worldsoul of Azeroth stirred towards waking, and her still-slumbering consciousness was roused enough to reach out to the gathered multitudes and make her wishes known.

The ethereals and the naaru reconfigured many dimensional fortresses to become portals through the Twisting Nether to other worlds. With the demons decimated, Nether-travel was safer than it had ever been. The gathered races that formed the Army of Light would be able to safely return home and rebuild, and the ethereals would remain in contact with them all, binding the people of the cosmos forever. No world would ever stand alone against a threat again. After the Army of Light had dispersed, after her elemental and once-mortal children returned to sleep within her worldsoul, Azeroth finally awoke. Her strength was fully renewed, and she blazed with cosmic energy greater than before. A task lay before her, one that would tax her in ways even greater than her conflict with Sargeras.

Spreading her cosmic wings, Azeroth soared across the solar system. She gathered up the smouldering fragments of the broken Titan Infernals, the ruined bodies of her Pantheon siblings. Her energy flowed across them, snuffing out the last traces of fel corruption. The ruined fragments still held some semblance of Titan form, some echo of grandeur and majesty that had belonged to the beings they once were. It would not be enough for Azeroth to realize her goal, but it was a start. Azeroth flew on, combing the space around her sun, the Titan fragments trailing in her wake. She gathered up the fragments of her former moons. She flew to the cracked and broken worlds that she had shared the system with, worlds that had been shattered during her conflict with the Legion. These worlds had never held life, had never possessed the correct balance of energies necessary to bring forth even primitive elemental beings, but still they had held seeds of cosmic power. They would serve Azeroth as vital material. Small rocky worlds were shattered for their minerals, great gas giants were stripped of their vapors... centuries passed as Azeroth slowly gathered the matter of her solar system, the foundations of her grand design. Finally, after a millennia had passed, she was ready.

Azeroth spun the gathered matter together in vast discs and focused her cosmic energy upon them. One by one, six discs formed and began to collapse, their cores glowing hot with the monumental forces being worked upon them. Gravity flared, the spinning cores devouring the matter of their discs. Around the star they spun, growing and blazing brightly, collapsing from vast discs into small but growing spheres. All the while, Azeroth poured cosmic energy into them, drawing upon the essence of creation and sending it spilling into the six spheres taking shape. Six wondrous and varied worlds took form - mountains and chasms, deep oceans and hollow caverns, hills and plains and valleys. In the earliest ages of the cosmos, it was only by sheer chance that worlds had formed with the proper balance of cosmic forces to nurture a Titan worldsoul. But now, Azeroth had by design formed six worlds that would each serve as the perfect incubators for a nascent Titan. Each one shone with the energies of creation, brimming with possibility. Fertile soil, waiting only for the seeds to be planted.

The Titan Worlds are born.

Reaching deep within herself, Azeroth called forth the lingering spirits of the Titan Pantheon. When the Pantheon had fallen at Sargeras' hands, the Titan Norgannon had used his vast sorcerous powers in an effort to preserve their living spirits, and his magic had sent the souls of the Titans soaring through the great dark in a desperate bid to reach safety on the world that Azeroth had once been. The distance had been vast and the effort had been nearly doomed from the start - only the barest wisps of the Titans souls had managed to reach Azeroth, each spirit-echo finding purchase in the bodies of beings constructed by the Titans known as Keepers. Each Keeper had become the vessel for the last tiny spark of a Titan's soul, in most cases unaware of what exactly had taken place, feeling only some faded memory from their Titan creator. Nevertheless, these lingering traces survived within the Keepers, and as they returned to Azeroth's worldsoul, so too had the spirit-echoes of the Pantheon.

It was these spirits that Azeroth now called forth. One by one, the fragments of the former Pantheon rose out of Azeroth's worldsoul and were infused into the six newly-shaped worlds that drifted around Azeroth's former star. As each new worldsoul was infused into the planet that would nurture it, that would in time become its very form, Azeroth whispered their names to them, reminding them of what they had been, and promising them what the future would hold for them.

The first world was Amanthal, the Realm of Storms, born of Highfather Aman'thul.
The second world was Edenar, the Realm of Wilds, born of Eonar the Life-Binder.
Next was Golggath, Realm of Waters, born from Golgannesh, Lord of Sea and Sky.
Fourth was Gannon, Realm of the Arcane, born of Norgannon, the Keeper of Magic.
Fifth was Khazgar, Realm of Stone, born of Khaz'Goroth, the Forger of Worlds.
And the sixth world was Aggmar, Realm of Flame, born from Aggramar, the Great Champion of the Pantheon.

Those who had fallen would be reborn.

The six seeds were planted, and one day untold millennia from now they would grow into six new Titans, and a new Pantheon would emerge to tend the cosmos. The six newly formed worldsouls, slumbering in nascency, would need only one further thing to ensure they would develop into the wondrous beings that Azeroth knew they could become. They would need inhabitants - living beings who would grow and learn and thrive, who would cherish their homes and fight to protect them, their every breath nurturing the growth of the nascent Titan within their world. Azeroth reached deeply within herself again, drawing forth her memories and those of the Titans that she carried within her. In her mind, she saw the great Titan creation forges that the Pantheon had used to shape her world-self in its nascency and to create the vast ecosystem that had lived upon her surface. On each world, sprawling machine-complexes took shape, secluded in hidden valleys or buried deep beneath the world's surface. Construct creatures and artificial races took shape to operate and maintain the great edifices. Cosmic energies flowed through the machines and into the worlds themselves, sparking life in a thousand of cradles. One day these beings would spread across the newly made worlds, multiplying and advancing. Shaped by Azeroth's own memories, many of the new worlds inhabitants would resemble her own mortal children, while innumerable completely new creatures would arise shaped by the sleeping worldsouls.

At last, her work was complete. The six new worlds hung in the starry night, turning gently in their orbits around the sun. With one final silent farewell, a wordless thought that shone with love, Azeroth departed.
____________________________________

Well hey, atleast we have the void, what's up with them? Did they find their "Void titan", that as stated to be the universes doom?

We'll find out sometime this chapter!

Why hasn't blizz hired you yet?

I never applied, though given how often I'm asked that, maybe I really should...