[follows Mastery of Forces | from the Warcraft II game manual]
We took the lands of Azeroth from the Humans and razed all that we surveyed. My personal assassin, Garona the Half-Orc, executed Azeroth’s leader King Llane and returned his heart to me. Although the Horde dominated Azeroth and the pathetic worms who defended it, my own plans were badly hampered.
A small band of Human warriors stormed Medivh’s Tower and engaged the insane sorcerer in direct combat. As his body was slashed and torn by the swords of Azeroth, Medivh began to transmit telepathic waves of trauma across the astral plane which easily shattered even my formidable defenses. I attempted to reach into the sorcerer’s mind and steal the location of the Tomb from him directly, but before I could divest the location, Medivh was killed by the Azerothiens. Having been inside his mind at the moment of his temporal death, I suffered a massive psychic backlash and fell into a catatonic state.
For weeks I slept as if dead, closely guarded by my faithful Warlocks. When I finally arose, I learned of the shift in the balance power within the Horde. Blackhand had been killed. Without my magiks and counseling to aid him, Blackhand fell prey to a surprise attack launched by one of his strongest and most trusted generals - Orgrim Doomhammer. Orgrim was quick to consolidate his power within the Horde, justifying the assassination of Blackhand by securing false testimony that supported his claims of the Destroyer’s incompetence as War Chief.
It seemed that the hand of fate had struck me a harsh blow. Orgrim set out to uncover the inner workings of the Horde, leaving no stone unturned. Eventually, his spies captured my servant Garona and under intensive, agonizing torture, forced her to reveal the existence and location of the Shadow Council. She was weaker than I had expected.
Suspecting that the Shadow Council was a threat to his control of the Horde, Doomhammer led his Wolfriders in a surprise attack against my Citadel near the ruins of Stormwind Keep. The Warlocks, caught unprepared by Orgrim’s assault, held off the Horde as long as their magiks would last. Having no time to rest or replenish their energies, the Warlocks fell before the wrath of Orgrim. In the end, the Doomhammer was victorious. Any surviving Warlocks were branded as traitors to the Horde. The public executions were effective in weakening my position and strengthening his…
I was taken before Orgrim and questioned at length about my involvement with the Shadow Council. Being greatly weakened by the backlash of Medivh’s death as well as the energies I had expended during the battle, I found that I was in no position to either threaten nor harm the War Chief. Orgrim made it clear to me that the Horde was under his control, and that he was not as easily swayed as his predecessor. The gleam in his eye and the steel at his side bespoke his intentions, but I would not be defeated so easily. While he may have held the upper hand, I reminded him that with the death of the Warlocks, I was the last true sorcerer within the Horde. Orgrim, made impudent by his victory, agreed that perhaps I could prove useful, and agreed to let me live - by his good graces. I silently vowed that he would one day take those words to his grave.
Although his suspicions of me were never fully assuaged, I did succeed in convincing the War Chief that the Raiders were preparing to unite with the sons of Blackhand in a revolt against him. Although this claim was untrue, Orgrim was already suspicious of Rend and Maim and so disbanded the multitude of Wolfriders, sending them into the various arms of the Grunt forces. To demonstrate my ‘loyalty’ to Orgrim and the Horde, I promised to create a host of undead riders that would be completely loyal to him alone. Although the Doomhammer did not fully trust me, the idea was sufficiently appealing, and so I was allowed to enter seclusion to create this new legion.
Even with the aid of my Necrolytes, I was unsuccessful in bringing forth this undead force. Failure and weakness were all that these minions could offer me, until I sensed that while their spirits were willing - it was the flesh that was weak. I summoned them to a great alter constructed of Ironwood and Blackroot where, at the height of a black incantation, I took the lives of every last one of them. In the bloody wake of their executions, the Necrolytes would then, at last, nourish my creation of the ultimate undead servant.
Using what few resources I still controlled within the Horde, I acquired many of the long-dead corpses of the fallen Knights of Azeroth. Into these twisted and decayed forms I instilled the essences of the greater members of the Shadow Council who were quite willing to return to the mortal plane to wreak terror and havok once again. I furnished each of the dark riders a jeweled truncheon through which they could better focus the unearthly powers they would brandish. Into these jewels were infused the raw, necromantic magiks of the freshly slain Necrolytes. Thus were the Death Knights born.
Orgrim Doomhammer was pleased with these Knights of Death. Although the spirits of the Shadow Council remained loyal to me, they feigned allegiance to the War Chief. Orgrim was well satisfied with the realization of my promise, and allowed me to go about my own affairs.
I will be patient and bide my time, pretending to be the faithful servant until the time comes to show this presumptuous, boisterous upstart who is greater between us. My designs to discover the Tomb of Sargeras still remain. I have assembled the Stormreaver clan to be my support when the season finally comes to strike back at Orgrim for his insolent crimes against me… That day draws near - and Doomhammer cannot know what terrors await him,
[follows History of the Orcish Ascension | from the Warcraft II game manual]
Things were well within the Horde. Though the Shadow Council kept the warring clans pacified by the promise of escape from the dying world, I knew that this new order - much like the war against the Draenei - would provide only a brief respite if I could not find new lands for the Orcs to conquer. My contemplation on this matter was disturbed late one night when I was surprised by the sound of screams emanating from the Warlocks’ Tower. I arrived to find many of the apprentices locked in deep trances, their faces twisted into masks of pain. The Warlocks, whom I questioned in detail, could tell me only that they had felt an unexplainable presence in their dreams. I returned to my Stronghold, deeply puzzled by the fact that whatever it was that had contacted the Warlocks, had made no attempt to reach me.
I sought the counsel of Kil’jaeden about this presence. He also was touched by this power - a power that was beyond any he had ever experienced before Whether it was the image of a force so awesome that it could cause this baneful Daemon to actually feel fear, or my own trepidation, I fled - moving aimlessly through the Twisting Nether for what seemed an eternity.
It was during my fevered flight that the Presence finally made contact with me. It radiated untold power, but it lacked the emotionless control displayed by Kil’jaeden. My senses seemed to take control over the dread that had engulfed me, and my mind began to cipher and reason. I knew that if I could divine the desires of this force, no matter how powerful, I could use it to further my own ends. The presence identified itself as Medivh, a sorcerer from some far and distant world. We communicated not in words, but in a guarded joining of minds. His mind seemed boundless, but his thoughts moved so swiftly that it was difficult to learn anything from him. All the while, I knew that he was probing me - learning more and more about the Orcs and our magic. I could never learn as much from him as he would from me, and I soon broke contact with him.
I sought the counsel of Kil’jaeden, but he refused to answer my summons. Somehow I knew that he had forsaken his students because he was afraid of this Medivh. I found myself again doubting my skills. Could I contend with a being who could intimidate my own master? I continued to venture into the Twisting Nether for several weeks, all but forgetting the disturbance that had caused me to question myself. Then one night, Medivh appeared to me in my dreams…
“You fear me, for you do not understand me. See my world and understand your fear. Then fear no more”
I was powerless to resist what came next
…barren wastes…
…dark swamps, teeming with life…
…endless fields of emerald grasses…
…forests of magnificent trees…
…farmlands filled with rich harvests…
…villages of proud, strong people…
Images came, flashing much too quick to comprehend. And then…something. A fleeting picture that left a longing stirring inside of my soul…
…buried deep beneath the ocean; dark and ruined, but still breathing…
…still pulsing with the lifeblood of the earth itself…
…an ancient power…
…ancient and terrible…
I awoke. I embraced consciousness knowing all along that the dream had been real. Medivh had shown me the wonders of his world, knowing that the Horde would not be content until his world was ours…
I met with the members of the Shadow Council concerning the visions that we had seen. Although there was much debate as to the true intentions of this Medivh, I informed the Shadow Council that a way to escape from our world would soon be ours. I would seek the aid of Medivh in creating a way to get to his world, and then we would subjugate his race as we had done to all others who stood before us. Although he had appeared to many Warlocks with these images of a new and fertile world, we agreed to keep the knowledge of this enigmatic message to ourselves. Those Warlocks outside of the Shadow Council who had shared in the visions were killed; for if the secret were revealed before preparations were made, the Horde would tear itself apart. Weeks passed with no word from Medivh. My attempts to contact him were fruitless. It was as if he had erased any trace of himself from the Twisting Nether. Some members of the Council gave up any hope of the wizard ever returning.
…Then the rift appeared…
It took considerable time to expand the rift enough to send the massive frame an Orc through. The first scouts to return from the other side seemed to be driven completely mad by what they had seen. These early failures did not deter us, and subsequent quests confirmed that the world beyond this rift appeared similar to what was depicted in our visions. With the combined powers of the Horde’s Warlock clans and the Shadow Council, we were able to enlarge the mysterious rift so as to create a Portal. This Portal was used to move a great number of Orcs into this unknown land. A small outpost was quickly built on the other side of the rift, and Orc scouts were sent to explore the surrounding areas.
The agents of the Shadow Council reported that the denizens of this world were called Humans, and their lands were known as Azeroth. We found that these Humans were a weak race, farming their fields and living peacefully in the countryside. I feared that they would prove no more of a challenge than the Draenei, and would not appease the hunger of the Orcish war machine for long. The clan chieftains, quickly swayed by their lust for blood and war, agreed that it was time to leave this dying world and lay claim to the domains of Azeroth.
While the Shadow Council kept close watch over the workings of the Horde, the masses looked to the clan chiefs as their leaders. Two chieftains arose who were well respected and feared by the various clans - Cho’gall, the Ogre-Mage of the Twilight’s Hammer clan, and Kilrogg Deadeye of the Bleeding Hollow clan. These powerful leaders were expected to direct the Horde to a swift and savage victory over the Humans. Thus, as the Horde gradually channeled through the rift into Azeroth, Cho’gall and Kilrogg began to plan their assault against the Human stronghold of Stormwind.
The attack against Stormwind was catastrophic. Our armies, expecting to meet weak resistance, charged headlong into the enemy fortress. Surprisingly, the Humans soldiers held our forces at bay. Then they unleashed warriors mounted upon beasts of muscle and sinew to devastate our troops. The Humans forced our troops to retreat back into the swamplands surrounding our outpost and the Portal where, only by the invoking the shrouding mists of shadow, were we able to escape. This decisive and humiliating defeat threw the Horde into chaos. Cho’gall and Kilrogg blamed each other’s incompetence for the failure, and the Orcs quickly polarized into factions that supported either chieftain. The Shadow Council desperately sought a remedy to the violence that was sure to follow, but the volatile nature of the Orcs made it difficult to appeal to reason or wisdom. I realized that the Horde needed a strong leader that could unify the clans under his control - and be kept in his place. Thus did I first learn of Blackhand the Destroyer…
Blackhand, chieftain of the young Blackrock clan and a Raider in the Sythegore Arm, was well honored by most Orcs within the Horde. More importantly, he was extremely lustful, and this made him easily corruptible. With help from the Shadow Council, I set the eager Blackhand upon the horned throne of the War Chief. To his credit, Blackhand was a ruthless dictator who inspired awe and terror from his warriors. While the Horde rallied under Blackhand and the other chieftains acquiesced control to him, it was I who dictated policy by blackmailing and bribing Blackhand.
With Blackhand’s ascension to War Chief, order was restored to the Horde. I was visited again by the visage of Medivh, who appeared more in control of his powers, but less in control of his mind. Petitioning the Horde to destroy the kingdom of Azeroth, but to make him ruler of its people, Medivh offered all manners of treasures and baubles to me. I assured him that his world was ours for the taking, and that he held nothing that could persuade the Horde to do his bidding. His face broke into a wicked sneer as he proceeded to show me the image of an ancient tomb upon which was etched the name of the Daemonlord Sargeras. The Tomb of Sargeras! The Daemonlord who had instructed my own tutor Kil’jaeden was entombed upon this pathetic little world! Destiny had chosen to lay the hand upon my shoulders alone, for Kil’jaeden had told me that the lost Tomb contained power absolute - enough to make any who could control it into a living god. Medivh pledged that he would grant me the location of the Tomb if only I would use the Horde to destroy his enemies…
Thus, the Orcish Hordes made war against the kingdom of Azeroth.
as told by Gul’dan, Chieftain of the Stormreaver clan | [from the Warcraft II game manual]
Like an elemental force of havoc and destruction we thundered through the lands of the Draenei devastating all that we beheld. Not one life was spared. No building was left standing. The only traces of their existence were the blood-soaked fields they had worked for nearly five thousand years and the rank, acrid smell of the huge victory fires that consumed the bodies of their young. The Draenei were a weak people - hardly worth the effort of our raiding sweep. In the end, however, even these simple victories serve to keep the inferior in their place…
It has always been so with my kind. The savage, brutal tendencies of the masses are easily manipulated by those who hold true power. Power is the true force that drives the great destructive machine that is the Horde. Those who imagine themselves in possession of this power rally around their clan banners of violence. Yet without a common foe, even the leaders of the Orc clans blindly turn upon each other. The appetite for destruction that prevails amongst these fools drives the Horde; might and might alone is honored above all things.
I am Gul’dan - the greatest of all Warlocks and Initiate of the Seventh Circle of the Shadow Council. No one knows the dark, burning allure of ultimate power better than I.
In what passed as my youth, I studied Orc magiks through the tribal Shaman of my clan. My natural talent for channeling the cold, negative-energies of the Twisting Nether brought me notable standing amongst the other Shaman, and I knew that even Ner’zhul, the greatest of my teachers, became jealous of me as my abilities grew ever stronger.
My aspirations rose higher than those of my peers and masters alike, for I knew that the scope of their vision was limited by their devotion to the advancement of the Horde. I cared nothing for the Horde or its petty politics. I cared nothing for this world over which we had complete dominion. I cared only for the chance to fathom the spiraling mysteries of the Great Dark Beyond. I had begun secret explorations of energies far beyond the scope of anything that my so-called tutors could possibly comprehend. It was at this time that I discovered a being of immense power - the Daemon Kil’jaeden. I was in awe of his heartless fury. To witness his awesome power was to be all but consumed. In the fleeting, fevered nightmares he brought me, I touched the essence of that which lies Beyond. Within me an unfathomable lust was sewn - a desire to wield the fury of ethereal storms and to stand unscathed within the dying hearts of burning suns.
Under the tutelage of Kil’jaeden, I realized how limited even my understanding had been. Untold histories of ancient Daemon races and primal magical dimensions were made known to me. I learned that there existed worlds without number, scattered throughout the darkness beyond the sky - worlds to which I might lead the Horde as only one of my abilities could. Though I remained with my people on the dark, red world of the Draenei, I soon learned to project myself into the depths of the Twisting Nether, being driven nearly mad by the whispering chaos contained therein. Although it seemed it would mean my death, I was irresistibly compelled to continue my sojourn until, finally unbound from my corporeal existence, I understood the whispers. It was then that I first spoke to the dead…
Ancestral worship has long been at the heart of Orcish religion. While nearly all of the Orcish Hordes believed that our dead elders watched and guided us from the depths of some lost realm of chaos, I believed this notion to be a product of ritual and not reality. Within the Twisting Nether I discovered that the spirits of the dead do linger on, floating on the astral winds between the worlds. I learned that they kept their endless, silent vigil over the clans in hope of finding some means of escape from their lifeless torment. I knew then that these spirits of the dead would be a useful tool for anyone who could bind them to his will.
Years passed. My apprenticeship under Kil’jaeden had allowed me to become the most powerful Warlock the clans had seen in many generations. My place within in the Horde was as a respected leader, but as ever, tensions ran high amongst the clans. The destruction of the Draenei left nothing upon which the great beast of war could feed. After centuries of violence and warfare, we had finally conquered the whole of our world. With no enemies left to crush and no new lands to conquer, the clans had fallen into a state of utter anarchy. Minor disputes between clans led to open battle and massive bloodshed. Those chieftains who attempted to assume the position of overlord soon found themselves slaughtered by the ravenous legions of the disheartened Horde. I knew that the time had come to claim the mantle of power that I had so long neglected.
I quickly gathered together the few Warlocks who had shown some spark of passion and desire to rise above the petty quarrelling of the clans. To these Warlocks I bestowed the knowledge of the dead by leading them in secret rituals and communing with the spirits of the Twisting Nether. Those who were incapable of channeling this power were destroyed. After a time a pact was forged between the members of our circle and the dark spirits whose energies we had learned to invoke. I would use my place among the Warlocks to shape the thoughts of others while, cloaked by a veil of secrecy, they would be immune to the caprices of the bloodthirsty masses. Thus did the Shadow Council come to be.
Within a few short months the Shadow Council had its hand in all of the important political matters within the Horde. Nothing occurred within the Horde that we did not know about, and many events took place by our design - so cleverly implemented that even the clan chieftains were oblivious to our manipulations. Before half a year had passed, we had assumed near total control of the inner workings of the Horde. Yet, behind all of our secret machinations, there loomed the silent and ominous shadow of the Daemon Kil’jaeden.
In pursuit of furthering our magical resources, I opened a new school of magical discipline that became known as Necromancy. We began training young Warlocks in the arcane mysteries of life and death. Again, with tutelage from the Daemon Kil’jaeden, these Necrolytes delved into the dark arts, eventually gaining power enough to animate and control the bodies of the newly dead. Every victory - every success - left me with an emptiness I could not fill. I came to realize that the Shadow Council could serve my purposes only to an extent, and thus I would require even greater power should I wish to become the true harbinger of our destiny.
With the arrival of the Azerothien refugees upon the shores of Lordaeron, King Terenas formed a council of delegates from each of the seven kingdoms under his rule. Recounting terrible tales of destruction and carnage wrought by the Orcish invaders in Azeroth, the Steward Lord Anduin Lothar convinced the sovereign of Lordaeron to unite themselves against this great threat. Despite much quarreling and debate, the lords acquiesced to Lothar and Terenas, and agreed to unite their armies under the general command of Lothar himself. As the shores of Lordearon had already been savaged by small bands of Orc marauders, Lothar found a strong ally in his longtime friend Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of the seaside kingdom of Kul Tiras. Thoras Trollbane, lord of Stromgarde, was also quick to offer his support to this newly forged Alliance, sensing that the time for glorious battle was at hand. These warriors were not the only ones to get ready for battle…
As the holy writ commandeth that the whole armor of rightousness be worn in the war against evil, Alonsus Faol - Abbot of the now destroyed Northshire Abbey - convinced the ecclesiastic ministers of Lordaeron to gird their priests and followers alike with weapons of war. As the guardians took up swords of light to defend the heavens, so must the holy men of earth be prepared to combat the dark tide that was quickly approaching from the south.
From the ancient subterranean halls of Khaz Modan came the stoic Dwarves of Ironforge, reporting that the Orcs had already begun to assault their mountain kingdom. The Dwarves offered their support n arms and ingenious technologies to the Alliance, who in turn assured them that the Orcs would be driven back at all costs.
The reclusive Elves of Silvermoon ventured forth from the shadowy forests of Quel’thalas to offer their services to the Alliance. Their magiks, so closely tied to the forces of the earth, had shown evidence that the Orcs had been defiling the very lands of Lordaeron as part of their sinister plans. The ill-bred prejudice that had existed for eons amongst the three races was put aside, and a bond was formed between these ancient neighbors. This bond would become a force known across the whole of Lordaeron as the Alliance.
Thus, united in arms against a common foe, the Alliance stands upon the shores of destiny and awaits the coming of the Tides of Darkness.
as told by the Matriarch of Tirisfal | [from the Warcraft II game manual]
My name is Aegwyn, and for over one thousand years I have wandered the realms of this world and endeavored to safeguard the peoples of its lands against the ethereal powers of the Great Dark Beyond. I have seen mighty kingdoms rise and fall. I have witnessed the deeds of high nobility and the lowliest of rabble both conspire to define the destiny of mankind.
It has been only recently that I have, regrettably, become directly involved in the matters of men. For countless ages it has been the charge of my Order to shelter and protect mortal man from the mysteries of the Great Dark, and the palpable, heinous evils of the realms beyond. To battle these dark forces of the Twisting Nether we were given considerable power. and longevity rivaling that of even the ancient Elves. With this power came one grave burden - The Guardian must not interfere with the affairs of men until the time comes when a successor must be chosen and the mantle of guardianship is passed to another.
Thus did I - Aegwyn, last Guardian of the Order of Tirisfal - judge that my time had come. Forty-two winters had passed since I first came to the kingdom of Azeroth in search of the Conjurer Nielas Aran. It was he whom I had chosen to sire the heir of my powers. Nielas was exceptionally talented in the simple conjurative magiks of men, and I believed that he would be the perfect mortal father for my child… and so he was.…
I gave birth to a son and named him Medivh - or “Keeper of Secrets” in the ancient tongue of the Elves - in the fall of the year 559. I transferred all of my knowledge and power into the infant, locking it deeply within him to manifest itself only when he reached physical maturity. Believing that my work on this world was done and seeing that my son would be cared for by Nielas’ people, I wandered across the fields of time, preparing myself for the passing.
I kept a distant, watchful eye on my son for much of his young life. I was assured that the deep-seeded altruism of Tirisfal would guide him in his trials and temper his heart and mind as to make him worthy of the Guardianship that was, I believed, his destiny.
On the eve of the marking of his thirteenth birthday, the power locked deep inside of my son awakened. Unable to deal with the raw, cosmic energies surging inside him, Medivh suffered a massive psychic trauma. He was pacified by the good Clerics of the Northshire. They removed the youth to their sacred Abbey and for six years tended to his all but comatose body.
Eventually, Medivh awakened from his sleep seemingly in full control of his faculties and powers. Yet, underneath the confident and almost arrogant facade, I somehow knew that my son had become malevolent and corrupt. The wisdom and power that was his birthright had been perverted by distant forces within the Twisting Nether, altering the Human part of his soul and marking him with its evil touch forever.
It was not until the first wave of those wretched creatures known as the Orcs thundered through the dark rift that I realized how incredibly dangerous my son had become…
With his mastery over the arcane energies increasing almost by the moment, Medivh had set out to probe the extent of his ability to manipulate the world around him. Delving into the forbidden arts of Necromancy, Medivh began to unravel the mysteries of life and death. He took to consorting with Daemons from the lower planes, using their powers to augment his own. His hunger for power became stronger, and with every minor success Medivh fell ever deeper into the dark abyss of madness. He traveled far throughout the astral plane, exploring the infinite secrets of the Great Dark Beyond. It was then, in the midst of swirling chaotic hallucinations, that Medivh first encountered a world beyond his own and captured a glimpse of the aberrant, murderous denizens of that place.
Here at last, was the tool that Medivh had been searching for…
Desirous of complete dominion over Azeroth, Medivh used the insights gained from the knowledge of Tirisfal to strike a bargain with Gul’dan the Warlock - the mightiest of the rulers on the dark, red world that haunted Medivh’s visions. Communicating through deep trances and astral projection, Medivh told Gul’dan of an ancient tomb lost beneath the north sea that contained power beyond imagination. It was to this tomb that I had banished the ancient Daemonlord Sargeras after a long and exhausting battle eight hundred years before. Even I cannot say whether or not the power of Sargeras remains entombed there. The promise of incredible power tapped from a true monarch of the underworld was enough to make the insatiable Gul’dan agree to do Medivh’s bidding.
Medivh agreed to furnish the location of the Tomb of Sargeras to Gul’dan as well as an entire world to conquer. In exchange for this gift, Medivh required the total destruction of the only force he believed capable of contending his ascendancy to power - the great Kingdom of Azeroth.
Thus, in the year 583, the first of Medivh’s unnatural Portals was opened between the world of Azeroth and the red world of the Orcs. Although the time of my passing had drawn near, I traveled to Medivh’s mystic tower to reason with him and attempt to dissuade him from a path that would surely lead to his own destruction. The power that was once of Tirisfal had become so twisted inside him that my pleas seemed as nothing. I fought with what energy remained in my weakened body, but having given all of my powers to him so long ago, I was easily defeated and banished from his sight.
The arrival of Gul’dan and the Horde War Chief Blackhand heralded a war that tore the realm of Azeroth asunder for nearly five years. The once rich lands of the kingdom were razed and left fallow by the merciless Orc armies. And yet, for all of his craft and guile, Medivh did not survive to see his plans come to fruition. My son was killed by a bold Azerothien raiding party who broke into his tower and slew him in the very room where he first made contact with the minions of the Horde. Even the great War Chief Blackhand was eventually destroyed as his ultimate victory drew near, betrayed by his servant Orgrim Doomhammer.
The greatest loss to the peoples of Azeroth came when King Llane, their benevolent and just ruler, was killed as Stormwind Keep fell under the siege and was overthrown by the Orcish Hordes. Only the valiant leadership of Anduin Lothar, Knight errant in the Brotherhood of the Horse and a hero in the war, allowed the survivors of Azeroth to escape from their decimated homeland with their lives.
Even with Medivh and his vile magiks gone, the Portal continued to channel hundreds of Orcs into the Human lands every day. With the death of Blackhand, Orgrim was quick to seize control over the Blackrock clan - the most powerful Orcish force on Azeroth. While others still vie for supremacy over the rest of the scattered Orc clans, Gul’dan, the infamous Warlock and chieftain of the Stormreaver clan, is rumored to be amassing a great navy to find the legendary Tomb of Sargeras for himself. Rend and Maim, the barbarous sons of Blackhand, also have secured a strong following amongst the Orcs, and hope to wrest ultimate control of the Horde away from the treacherous Doomhammer.
Although other factions grow stronger within the chaotic Horde, it seems certain that all of the clans will follow Doomhammer’s plans to hunt down and destroy the renegade Humans of Azeroth wherever they choose to run…
For those who haven’t played the first Warcraft game, we first met Sir Lothar in the game manual, then later went to rescue him from the Dead Mines, where he’d spent twenty months looking for the Tome of Divinity, which was promptly never mentioned again.
(In case anyone’s curious, WoWpedia says the Brotherhood of the Horse was another name for the Knights of Stormwind before the First War.)
This is the map that came with the Warcraft II PC game. The geography of Stormwind Azeroth is largely unchanged, but there are some pretty big additions to the north, some of which made it all the way into WoW. (Obviously, something changed between here and Warcraft III, though, since according to this map Stratholme and Lordaeron don’t seem to have anything to do with each other. Maybe the game will prove me wrong.
Since it took me a bit to figure out, might as well post it here for other people who might need help. (Hello, Google!)
1. Download and install DosBox. There’s just one Windows installer, but it works on both 32- and 64-bit Win10.
2. Download the disc image from MyAbandonware. Watch out for the fake download links, though. You might want to use an ad blocker when you visit the site. (See here for Chrome/Firefox). The link you need to click has this information next to it: ISO Version [British flag] 499 MiB.
3. Extract the contents of the file you just downloaded to a folder that’s preferably sitting directly on one of your drives (for instance C:\war2kit). You should have two files in that folder: Warcraft 2.cue and Warcraft 2.bin.
3a. Rename the files to war2.cue and war2.bin. Some versions of Dropbox don’t handle spaces very well, so might as well.
4. Create another folder where you’ll be installing the game (for instance, C:\war2).
5. Open DosBox and type mount c your-install-path, then press Enter.
Replace your-install-path with the directory where you’ll install the game. Example: mount c f:\games\war2
6. Still in DosBox, type: imgmount d your-image-path\war2.bin -t cdrom, then press Enter.
Replace your-image-path with wherever you extracted the images. Example: imgmount d f:\games\war2img -t cdrom
This creates a virtual CD drive that DosBox can see and assigns it the letter D:\. From my experience, using other utilities like DaemonTools doesn’t work - the game installs, but you can’t play it in DropBox because it doesn’t see the drive. YMMV.
5. Type cd d: to change to the D:\ drive.
6. Type install to install the game. When prompted for an install path, enter C:\ (you’ll remember, that’s the directory you created for installing the game).
7. Complete the installation. If all goes well, you should see a black screen and be told to type WAR2 to play. You should be all set!
If the game scrolls too fast, here’s how to fix it:
8. If you’re running in full screen, press Alt-Enter to return to windowed mode. In the window title bar, you should see something like this: CPU speed: max 100% cycles. Press Ctrl + F11 to lower the cycles until you find the speed that works for you.
Warcraft: Orcs and Humans - Human Campaign, Conclusion
The fall of Black Rock Spire spelled final victory for the forces of Azeroth. With Blackhand slain and their stronghold destroyed, the few scattered Orcs that remained were quick to bow before your might. A celebration ensued that lasted for many days and many nights, with music and joyous festivities resounding throughout the land. The people of the kingdom have come from miles around to gather at Stormwind Keep, and are delighted by a display of mystic sights and sounds provided by the court conjurers while being treated to a feast of unequaled splendor. Amidst the celebration, your ascension to the throne is acknowledged by your new subjects, and you are given the honorarium Defender of the Crown. As the evening's celebration continues into the early hours of the morning, you retire to the sanctity of your throne room...
The duty of ruling Azeroth is an awesome responsibility, and should prove to be your greatest challenge yet. Learning the intricacies of court politics alone will be like sailing in uncharted waters. King Llane was renowned for ruling with a fair and just hand, and you resolve to be as proficient as he was. There is also the matter of discovering the exact location of where the Orcish hordes entered into this world, and divining a way to end the threat of another invasion forever - but that is a story for another time... (Gamepedia)
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