Corruption and redemption of a mage.

Lyreia arrived in Anvil from the cold shores of Solstheim with high hopes for a new life.

Instead, she found herself stuck running errands for arrogant mages.. At least lodging was cheap. The Mages Guild kept her warm and comfortable but did not have much to offer for a novice.

At
the first occasion, she enrolled with the Fighter;s Guild and received
advices from fellow members. Her first contracts were exciting
occasions to explore the surrounding hills of the Gold Coast.
Armed with more confidence (and some supplies from the Fighter’s Guild porter) she eventually took on her apprenticeship journey.

As she traveled from one Mage Guild chapter to the next looking for recommendations,
she discovered the hidden powers of magicka…
… learned to summon Daedras…
and found powerful artefacts, hidden away inside creepy ruins.

Her life changed dramatically when she accepted the invitation of a mad God. Under his guidance,
she explored the madness of his realm
… got dragged deeper into darkness
… and violently rose to power.

She lead Seducers to battle…
… and yet became a Saint.

She tasted forbidden pleasures in Mania…
… took perverted joy in tormenting her subjects in Dementia
… and came to challenge the Mad God himself.

She returned to Cyrodiil changed.
The old world of Tamriel seemed bland compared to the exotic visions of
the Shivering Isles. She had seen too many horrors, participated in too
many disturbing acts.

For a while, she tried to contain the darkness inside her. She became a reputable member of the Mages Guild
… and enjoyed the benefits of a unique haven.
And for a brief moment, it seemed she had the favors of the Gods. She
even accepted the challenge of a mad Prophet to avenge the attack on
the Anvil chapel and protect the Land.

But Darkness was too strong to ignore.
She embraced the Dark Brotherhood
… became a skilled assassin
… and developed power beyond her darkest dreams.
The world itself seemed to turn to chaos as Kvatch fell to a Daedra
invasion and the Emperor himself was killed in front of her very eyes
as she was escaping the Imperial prison.

And when the Dark Mother opened her arms and requested the ultimate sacrifice…
.. she willingly accepted her gift and was reborn..
.. a Vampire.

Every once in a while, someone or something reminds me the dark reality of the path I have chosen.
Tonight was one of these times.
I was taking some much needed rest in Stormwind after days of continuous travels between the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor. Although I usually prefer the quiet and mystical atmosphere of Darnassus or Auberdine for my research, I do enjoy the hustle and bustle of the human capital city one in a while. It is a good reminder of what we are fighting for.
So here I was, enjoying some Ale with a few guild members at our usual place, the Blue Recluse, in the Mage Quarters. I haven’t said much of the Azure Dreamers in these pages so far. I will have to remember to change that. For now, just a few words about the guild members present that night will suffice.
Sir Solmachina was his usual quiet self, visibly still bearing the burden of his recent campaign in the Outlands. Lady Taliana was blessing our little group with her grace and her peaceful words of comforts (most of them directed to Sir Sol I might add). Sir Dremnon was there as well, listening with interest to this old gnome’s rambling about his research before we started celebrating the arrival of a new member in our organization, Lenresh, a night elf, druid, still fresh from his journey from the Emerald Dream.
So here we were, exchanging ideas and theories about Un’Goro, power crystals, the Titans and Gnomeregan… when a familiar voice came through our hearthstones. Rhellus… the draenei I met with much interest a while back. I didn’t think much of it when he expressed a wish of being here with us… like so many times before, I left my seat, reached for a soulstone deep in my bags, let it glow in my hands for a brief second before I started whispering the familiar incantations of Summon.
Predictably, Rhellus soon appeared in the room. What was less predictable was his reaction, somewhere between discomfort of being summoned that way and fury of being subject to the whim of a warlock.
If it had not been for the intervention of my friends, I wonder how quickly the Vindicator would have reached for his mace and attacked me. I should have been more cautious and more thorough in my studies of the Draenei… Vindicators especially. Following the teaching of the Light and the words of the Naaru with absolute devotion, they have nothing but repulsion for anything close to the dark arts. That would include me.
To his credit, he tested his patience by listening to my explanations about my own training and philosophy regarding the path of warlocks. I am not sure he was fully convinced, although we did apologize to each other and eventually sat at the same table. Unfortunately, the discomfort was visible well into the night. I hope we will find a way, somehow, to reconcile our choices.
I am fortunate to count the Azure Dreamers as my friends. Today was a reminder of how far they are willing to go establish a force capable of fighting the Burning Legions using every mean necessary, from the devotion of followers of the Light to scholars of the Dark Art. After all, how can you really fight an enemy you know nothing of ?
My old Master in Iron Forge predicted that my path would not be successful as long as I was alone. I can see now what he meant.

A missive from commanders in the Western Plaguelands was waiting for me when I stopped by Ironforge on the way back from Gnomeregan.
Little did I know that missive would turn into the most fortunate discovery. Fortunate ? Probably not, given that the discovery itself redefines the very concept of Fate or Destiny.
During a mission in the ruins of Andorhal, I had the surprise to find a gnome and an elf comfortably settled in an abandonned inn, drinking tea and engaged in the most peculiar conversations. The gnome introduced herself as Chromie, a member of Nozdormu’s bronze dragon flight, guardian of Time and Destiny.
After making thinly veiled remarks about my own future, she explained a few missions of her own and how I could help her preserve the timeline from alterations that are taking place across Andorhal.
She also told me of the Cavern of Time, a sanctuary deep in the Tanaris desert, where her kin watch over time and carve out destiny. If there was a way to visit the past and find the answers I needed about the Un’Goro crater or even Gnomeregan, I could surely find it in Tanaris.
The Cavern of Time is the strangest place I have visited since I left the confines of Gnomeregan for what seems ages ago. Its walls are made of buildings and artefacts from all over Azeroth, and I assume, from all times as well. Time guardians perform their duties in silence, oblivious to visitors. I was humbled by the sense of immense power one can feel throughout the caves.
Ultimately, as amazing as the visit was, it was deeply disappointing. As I mentionned, the time keepers are so absorbed by their work, watching over many timelines, that they barely acknowledge the presence of visitors. And when they do, their answers are cryptic riddles that I could take years to decypher.
One of them told me I would come back to them eventually. Maybe this is just not the right time for answers yet.

“Won’t you stay still, you little $#!^&* !”
Clenching his Stick of Binding in a menacing way, Cluricaun couldn’t contain his frustration at the whirring mechanoid standing before him. Or rather, squirming before him. That was the problem. The damned mechanical squirrel could not stay in place and the sound of that defective gear in the auxiliary balancing unit (also known as ‘squirrel tail’) was driving him crazy.
The little creature looked at him, tilting its head to the side with a click, stopping for a second before starting to run in a circle around the toolbox left open on the table.

Cluricaun sighed deeply to try and remain calm. This minor repair was going to take longer than expected. He could not simply turn the creature off. Doing so would erase the few months of memories it had accumulated since his little niece’s birthday. Polly would be crushed if she had to start training her squirrel all over again.
“ah AH !”
The squirrel tripped on an arc spanner sticking out from the toolbox and fell on its side, whirring and squirming madly to get up on its feet again. That was enough distraction for Cluricaun to grab a piece of rope and attach it swiftly to a hammer. Properly weighed down, the mechanical toy would not be going anywhere soon.
As he suspected, a bolt had failed in the balance mechanism. With the production of parts being geared to the war effort against the Burning Crusade, it was getting more and more difficult to get quality parts for mechanoids. Who cared about toys when planes and tanks were in demand ?
Well.. Polly did. And she would be thrilled when he would bring her mechanical friend back.
He was just finished releasing the squirrel from its bonds when a sudden screech shattered that quiet morning.
“ALERT ! ALERT ! ALERT !”
A mechanical alarm rushed by the workshop to the main hallways.
Containment blast doors slammed in the distance.
And as the lights went out, the screech echoed through the corridors. Closer.
Troggs ?!

Once again, my path is taking me back to the familiar mountains of my childhood and the painful reminder of what it has become. This time, I came back to Gnomeregan to research my hypothesis of a possible power crystal experiment turned wrong.
Radiation is still everywhere. Somehow, survivors still manage to escape the troggs infested ruins, although most of them are too sick to leave the mountainside.
I could not afford much time in the dark hallways of my homeland. My magic is still not strong enough to protect me from the poisoned air, much less from the hordes of troggs and mechanoids gone mad.
I managed to take a few samples of ooze for further study, but I was not able to find any trace of crystals. If they were at the origin of the catastrophe, maybe they were not in large enough quantities to survive the explosion, or maybe they need flora to survive instead of the cold, metallic structures of our city.
I will have to return another time with a larger group. The source of radiations seems still active somewhere underground. There is still a chance to find out if power crystals were involved.
Maybe my fellow Guild members will answer my request for assistance. This would be a quest worthy of the Azure Dreamers.

I knew it !
I thought the familiar feeling I had when I saw the corruption of Bloodmyst Islands came from my memories of Gnomeregan. On the surface of course, the similarity of both catastrophes are undeniable, but this is not where that feeling came from.
There is another place in Azeroth that bears the same kind of scars. The same alteration of fauna and flora. The same alien looking walking vines. The same crystals of power rising like a bad weed.
Anybody familiar with southern Kalimdor will recognize a description of Un’Goro crater.
After spending some time in the suffocating jungle of the crater, I can attest both places bear striking similarity. The major difference is that time has not been allowed to erase the early marks of destruction around the Exodar, as it has in Un’Goro.

I submit that the crater was in fact formed by the crash of a Draenei ship, eons ago. Except in that case, the ship did not survive the impact and instead, opened a scar in the land where ash and lava now stand.
There must have been survivors. How else can we explain the strange pylons north, east and west of the crater ? A gnome studying the crystals in a cave at Marshall Refuge recently uncovered a relationship between these pylons and the strange colorful crystals found in the crater. I studied the pylons myself. Their markings are definitely alien to this world, but they bear little semblance to Draenei writing, which is understandable considering how long ago this must have happened.
How else can we explain why the Draenei chose our world to settle down. Their ancestors have been here before ! The survivors must have returned to Draenor somehow.
Finally, there is the matter of the origin of the bug infestation of Silithus. The Draenei brought with them buglike creatures that are strikingly similar to the Silithids. It is not clear yet what value they attach to these bugs. However, some specimens managed to survive the crash and escape their masters. Some even started to organize themselves in proto-colonies around crystals. Much the same way Silithid organize their hive around a crystal in the chamber of their Queen. It is conceivable that the bugs spawning from Silithus are the distant cousins of survivors of a crash in Un’Goro.
Unfortunately, I have no proof to confirm this theory. The crystals I brought with me from the Exodar did not seem to work with the pylons. Nobody as yet to report finding the remains of a ship anywhere in the crater.
If only I could find a way to acess Draenei’s archives on the Exodar, assuming they managed to bring archives with them.
It is more likely that the records of the original crash in Un’Goro, if there was one, are still hiding somewhere on Draenor. One more reaon if I needed one to find a way to the Outlands.

Something went terribly wrong when the Exodar landed on Azeroth.
One has to simply take the road inland from the majestic city-ship to find out how deep the devastation caused by the crash landing reached inside the very fabric of the land and the life it hosts.
Every area where a piece of the ship landed bears crimson scars, spreading like a disease around gigantic crystals. Watching the effect these crystals have on their surroundings brought chilling memories from the Fall of Gnomeregan. Radiations from the crystals turned innocent wildlife into mad mutated masses of flesh. Even flowers were altered in some unspeakable way.
This is far worse than the disease that turned so many of my countrymen into Leper Gnomes, although the effects are strangely similar. Could there be a link between the Catastrophe and crystals of power ?

From what I can tell, the crystals seem to have been used as an energy source, possibly to power part of the ship, much like the way we use steam. They could even have been used to propel the ship, although their exact means of travel still eludes me.
It seems that the crash released these power crystals from whatever containment they were in, setting them free to grow and corrupt the land around them.
Most crystals still hold an impressive amount of power. This hasn’t been lost on the few surviving tribes of furbolgs and satyrs, already using the most powerful crystals for some mystical rituals. The blood elves sent scout parties to set camps in the northern parts of the islands, where the corruption is the strongest. I even ran into a party from Venture Co., already at work studying the crystals and tap into their power for profit.
The Draenei survivors I met outside of Exodar seemed willing to help heal the land from the effects of their own creations, but something tells me we are far from seeing the end of these power crystals in Azeroth.

Rhellus, that Draenei fellow I met in Stormwind, was right about the wonders of his home, although his awkward words could not possibly have done justice to the beauty and the scale of Exodar.
The trip from Auberdine was uneventful, save for two blood elves who made me nervous on the ship. Who knows what they were up to going to Draenei lands.
Once on the shore, I did not need any sign or map to point me to the right direction. The towering giant crystals recently sprouted around a colossal structure clearly marked my destination.
It is still not clear if Exodar is a city, a ship, a colony… maybe a little bit of each. What is certain is that, as a civilization, the Draenei have much to teach us. They seem to have mastered the untapped powers of crystals and light to create a technology beyond the wildest dreams of Gnome and Gobelin engineers. Their architecture is delicate without being fragile. Everywhere I looked was a new wonder to discover – statues made of light, staircase made of a sheet of crystal, floating towers of energy, flickering strands of … I don’t know what they were made of but they seemed to connect the whole place like veins.

I could barely hide my excitement as I was walking through the majestic (yet eerily empty) hallways. Here I was … surrounded by a seamless blend of technology and magic. Proof of the very idea of Balance that I have been researching.
Did the Draenei already achieved that dream ? and if so, why did they have to flee like this ?
This is most disturbing.
After all their achievements, the Draenei were not able to remain in their home world and face the Burning Legions on their own. Their arrival in Azeroth looks more like an emergency exodus than an organized colonization. Exodar itself bears troubling marks of destruction. Pieces of the ship even scatter the islands around it, with some interesting side effects on the fauna and flora I might add.
Even though I am convinced that my goal is now reachable, what I have seen here also confirms that there is still much to learn before we can achieve a true Balance between Science and Magic. The Draenei may be closer to that goal than I could dream of being myself, but something is lost to them as well.

After catching only glances of the Draenei for a few weeks now, today was the first occasion I had for a close encounter with one of their kind…
What amazing creatures.
There is a certain majesty to their presence… a certain essence that is clearly otherworldly. We should be fortunate they came to the Alliance for support in the fight against the Burning Crusade, although the timing of their arrival is peculiar. Is there a link between the opening of the Portal and the exodus of the Dreanei ? Could their journey have been possible with the Portal shut ?
They seem genuinely willing to help and I could tell they yearn claiming back their homeland as much as we want to return to Gnomeregan. We have that much in common at least.
I must set course for the isle where they established themselves – Exodar… named after a seemingly wondrous ship that took them away from their homeworld. There is so much to learn from them, their art, their magic… their technology maybe ?
I have to see it for myself.
What I will learn from them could have dramatic consequences for my research !

Shocked by the failure of Gnomish Technology and the Fall of Gnomeregan, Cluricaun left behind his first life as a mechanoid designer and joined the Gnomish Exodus across Azeroth.
Fascinated by the brutal battle between the forces of Light and Darkness, he started the long journey to master the control of both forces through the initiatic path of the Warlocks. The hardships of his journey from the mountains of the Eastern Kingdoms to the forests of Kalimdor forced him to become apprentice in the arts of Tailoring and Cooking.
Until one day, the faded pages of an old tome found in a ruin confirmed his intuition and set him on the path of a greater purpose – the discovery of the missing link, the Grand Unified Theory of Magic and Technology. Through it, he is convinced, the Balance of the world could be finally restored…
Read more…