That was the day the Legion fell.
The Loremaster looked at this final note and couldn’t help but feel the pride of every citizen that lived here on Azeroth. The day the Legion fell. After millenia of attacking our world, the end had finally come. The greatest foe they had ever faced was locked away, and the world was safe once more.
“Of course, safe is a relative term,” Sionis added.
“The sword?” the Loremaster asked.
The Loremaster nodded. “The sword.”
The sword was, of course, a literal blade the size of a building that reached into the clouds. There was no metaphor here. The mighty Sargeras, ruler of the Legion, had literally stabbed Azeroth with a massive sword.
“So, what about you in Silithus?” the Loremaster asked. “What happened after Iliera defeated the Legion?”
“The Legion ships retreated. We just stood there, dumbfounded. Then, the blade came down, and destruction came with it. I used a portal and got our people out, as well as a bunch of others that had ended up in the area.”
“What an adventure…” the Loremaster said.
“Of course, that sword was the beginning of the end for us,” Sionis said, still eating his noodles, picking at them and trying to scoop up the last of his green sauce.
“Wait. What? How was the sword the end?”
“With the Legion defeated, we celebrated,” Sionis explained. “We threw parties in the cities, we went home to our loved ones, and we started trying to figure out what would come next. We buried our dead, we said goodbye, and everyone started trying to find their place on Azeroth.”
“It didn’t take the Horde long to turn on us,” the Loremaster said.
“Old wounds can only be ignored for so long,” Sionis agreed.
“So, how did it all go down? What happened to the Academy of Hope?”
“We’ll get to that,” Sionis said. “There was some other business to attend to before the tragedy unfolded. You see, things were going so well with the Academy after the Legion was defeated, that I finally had a chance to turn my attention to a mystery that had been itching at the back of my mind for a while now…”
“The wand?!” The Loremaster asked, leaning forward. “Please tell me it was about the wand.”
“Yes, finally. Okay. So, what happened there?”
“It all started when Fynn was celebrating in the old town district of Stormwind. He and a few of his buddies had hit up an older pub and while they were having a great old time, Fynn spotted our demon hunter friend Aebaloth. Obviously, the paladin went right for him, and Aebaloth was far too intoxicated to properly defend himself. They had a good little chase through the district, and then Fynn eventually got his hands on the demon hunter and pummeled him a bit demanding to have his mother’s wand back.”
“Did Aebaloth have it?”
“No,” Sionis answered. “He’d sold it to a particularly nasty goblin, one of the cartel leaders down in Booty Bay.”
“Yeah, it turned out that Baron Revilgaz had bought it, I assume to hunt me down for some… other problems that he and I might have had in the past.”
“I took notes on that incident,” the Loremaster said.
“Right. Anyway, Iliera and I got this information from Fynn and, frankly, we decided we wanted to take a trip down to Booty Bay and see if we couldn’t figure out where the wand and gone, why it had Iliera’s name, and what we might do with it.”
“What about Fynn?”
“Fynn and some of the other members of the Academy made their way to Arathi to help the King of Stormwind with a gathering between the undead and their living relatives. We both know it ended poorly, but at the time we assumed it would be fine. We were all still riding high on the unification of the fight against the Legion. We had forgotten about Sylvanas… about her plans…”