This world is festering

The moment I stepped out of that portal I knew this world was wrong. Corruption and death everywhere. All I could… sense was destruction. A foul energy that was the essence of rage and hatred. There is no word for the sensation in your limited animal languages. Call it… a smell. This energy… this fel… it smells of death, of rot, of sulphur and trees consumed by fire and turned to ashes. It smells worse than the Breakers ever did. My people always saw the Breakers as their greatest enemies but they were wrong. This is worse. All I saw when I looked out into what Blademoon Commune’s lands have become was dark, twisted rock and lava the color of decay everywhere. It was as if my worst nightmares materialized.

I walked the land and tried to reach out, to sense anyone like me who might have survived. But there was nothing. Miles and miles across, my soul called out and heard nothing but the empty echo of land consumed with death from another world. All of Blademoon Valley… consumed by this green fire and those creatures that do not belong on Draenor. But it was far worse than that. Deep inside the world, some vestige of life has always survived. And here I sensed nothing. Literally nothing. The world itself was broken apart. How can such destruction happen? How could have my people allowed it?

The sensations overwhelmed me. I did not know if I should rage and destroy every voracious animal I could find or if I should sit in a corner and let the same green death consume me as it consumed my brethren. I simply followed the arakkoa because I did not know what to do. Then we saw a fort of these creatures, of these “demons”. I couldn’t help but lash out and wrestle what little energy I could draw from this fallen land and use it against the ones who destroyed my world. I fell dozens of these demons and cleared a path for ourselves. We went through to the place arakkoa call “Terokkar Forest”. We call it “Thorncrown”.

When the animal slept, I rooted myself in the land that still appeared teeming with life. Through the ground and the trees I reached out to what little nature remained and communed with it, looking for whatever might be left. But there was nothing. There were just trees, warped by the cataclysm that destroyed my world, and grass that did not even know it was dying. Everywhere, even in the land you see as “pristine”, this Outland is dying. This foul green death is consuming everything slowly but surely. There is nothing left of Draenor but a rotting corpse. I cannot save it. No one can. Let it turn to dust.

But the arakkoa led to me a new world. One that is still wracked with corruption but it is not beyond saving. Forests respond to my call and many creatures hear what I say through the trees. Although they are alien, they are closer to me than anything left on this Outland. This Azeroth can still be saved. It can still be returned to nature. And I will save it.