Chapter 1 ~ Once More, the Son Rises
The grass waved as the breeze stampeded over the plains of Arathi. Elsewhere, the snow fell tranquilly to the ground in Winterspring, Azeroth finally calmed after the slaying of Deathwing. The Aspects, now mortals, continued their interactions with the other mortal races of the planet, hoping to forge an alliance between the two factions who sought to undo the other.
To them, he had been a hero. One who had braved the attempted destruction of the Earthwarder, after gaining notoriety for his conquest over the Lord of the Damned in Northrend, the chilling atmosphere of that accursed place freezing the hearts of those who heard whispers. He knew the truth - that it was apparently insignificant mortals who had bested these elite creatures, and that he with his allies consisted of the best.
"We need you now more than ever." said the curious creature behind him, a ragged piece of bamboo ejecting out of his mouth. "There is a great unbalance coming, Lord Sadpandarius, and yours and your allies' might will be requisite if we are to ever hope to restore this world to a peaceful state."
His legendary blades thirsted at his side. These shivs, earned after much labor and adventure, created with peril, represented the indomitable will of their wielder. Lord Sadpandarius shook his head as he turned to face the Pandaren addressing him.
"Unfortunately, we are not enough. This land has lost many great warriors, never to hear from them again. Only I and Fleet Commander Failheartissimo remain of the fabled Old Guard. I fear, that, barring a miracle, this unbalance shall overtake us all."
"Then Lord Sadpandarius, you must seek them out. Recall them from their ancient slumber. Entice them to return. Without them, the coming turmoil will indeed be too much to overcome, and the world which persevered through elemental onslaught, hordes of undead assault, daemonic corruption, and even the uprising of the earth itself will fall."
It was a grim situation. But Lord Sadpandarius knew where he could start. A fabled warrior, unparalleled in his knowledge, had once risen above the rest to become the strongest, faster than anyone else ever had. Sadpandarius knew that much training would be required, and that this individual, tempted by the opportunity to shine again, would rise to the challenge of again demonstrating his will.
Sadpandarius knew where to look. He had once seen this hermit paragon wander off to what he had told Sadpandarius was his favorite alcove. Gingerly, Sadpandarius approached the hallowed ground of the Gates of Ironforge. High above the city, there was a campsite, abandoned no doubt by travelers long forgotten. This campsite's perseverance into the current age had attracted this mysterious warrior, and Sadpandarius knew that was the location he could find him.
Trekking through the snow, wiping the blood away of creatures that approached and fancied a sample of the delectable meat on Sadpandarius' bones (only to be disappointed and garroted), he reached the summit. Indeed, there at the campsite was the magician, who long ago had demonstrated her power in the arcane. The magician was caught in stasis, a look of pure meditation on her face. Sadpandarius noted her ample features, the garb she wore that clashed, but that represented the amalgamation of talents present within the mage.
"Our world once again needs your help. You must awaken from this stasis - without your aid, Azeroth as we know it will perish. You said to wake you in an emergency; that emergency is now. Come back, Lady Fiora - we need you."
Her eyes opened within the beam. Slowly, the light dissipated until the only movement on this sacred mount, high above Ironforge, was the light snow gently falling upon these two historic warriors.
"lolok lets do it cry some moreee!" were the only words she **#@!!@#%d.
CONTINUED IN PART 2?!?!