In the grand meeting hall, every eye in the chamber was fixed on the respected shaman of the Wildhammer Clan. Mylra, the Stormcaller, moved with urgent purpose through the layers of guards, her grim expression a stark contrast to the celebratory mood that had just moments ago permeated the room. She reached Galen's side, leaning in to whisper rapidly, her anxious features gradually softening under his calm, reassuring words.
A fresh wave of murmurs rippled through the hall as people speculated wildly about the nature of this sudden, urgent news.
"Everyone! Please be quiet!" Galen's voice, though not a shout, cut through the rising din with an almost physical force, resonating deep within the hearts of all present.
Seeing that the whispers had ceased, Galen directly relayed the grave intelligence brought by the Wildhammer shaman.
"Thanks to the tireless efforts of the shamans of the Earthen Ring," Galen announced, his voice carrying the weight of the news, "led by the venerable Chief Muln Earthfury and many other great shamans, they have successfully managed to initially control the catastrophic impact of the World Pillar's shattering."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the room.
"Because of their heroic efforts," Galen continued, "our home, Azeroth, has been kept safe, spared from further devastating earthquakes and the complete unraveling of its elemental foundations!"
However, the relief was short-lived.
"Yet, the repercussions of the World Pillar's shattering are profound and far-reaching," Galen's tone grew graver. "According to the latest intelligence, in Uldum, on the continent of Kalimdor, the very fabric of reality has been torn. The Throne of the Four Winds has manifested, unleashing gales of unimaginable power. These furious winds, stirred by the unleashed wind elementals, have completely submerged one of my Stromgarde coastal bases!"
A ripple of shock went through the assembly.
"And that's not all!"
Varian Wrynn, who had been simmering with barely contained frustration, rose from his seat, his voice booming with a king's authority. "While the black dragons certainly collapsed the hero statue at Stormwind's city gate, the most severely affected area was our entire garden district! This entire section of the city was not only shattered by the initial earthquake but then utterly consumed by a surge of fire elementals erupting from beneath the very ground. It was due to my personal efforts in clearing out these infernal creatures that I was delayed in attending this summit!"
"Everyone!"
A great figure, though not physically tall, rose from his seat. It was King Gnomeregan, Gelbin Mekkatorque, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a look of grim concern.
"According to my meticulous observations," Gelbin stated, his voice surprisingly clear and precise, "Blackrock Mountain, which has lain dormant for many years, now exhibits alarming signs of reignition. This, my esteemed colleagues, is a most ominous omen. We must be exceptionally wary of the return of Ragnaros the Firelord!"
With the endorsements of two prominent council members, Galen once again took command of the conversation, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the assembled leaders. "If the World Pillar cannot be restored to its original, stable state, then all the races of Azeroth will continue to live under the constant, terrifying threat of cataclysmic earthquakes and elemental incursions."
"You should all be well aware," Galen continued, his voice hardening, "that there are insidious elements among our own citizens. They are a group of fanatical cultists, whispering prophecies of doom and actively working to hasten Azeroth's destruction. To avoid further disasters, I propose that each of you return to your respective territories and conduct thorough purges, rooting out and eliminating these doomsayers and their treacherous influence!"
"And one more thing!" Galen's voice dropped, becoming ten times more serious than before, each word imbued with an iron resolve that silenced any lingering whispers. "Prepare for war. We are about to face a conflict on a scale unlike any before—a war with the elemental planes themselves. All member states of the Grand Alliance of Azeroth, I issue this decree: send troops if you have them, contribute gold if you lack soldiers, and provide food if you lack gold. We will, once again, face a world-ending war, and we will face it united!"
To this dire pronouncement, the people in the hall did not panic. A strange calm settled over them.
In the past twenty years, they had endured the brutal Orcish Wars, the devastating Scourge War, the epic Battle of Mount Hyjal, and the insidious Nightmare War. Now, they were being told they were about to face elemental lords, beings of demigod strength, capable of reshaping the very land.
In this crisis-ridden world, without strong nerves and a stout heart, one would likely have been scared to death by the sheer number of world-ending threats.
"Sounds great!" King Muradin Bronzebeard roared, his booming voice cutting through the solemnity. "All this political talk has made my throat as dry as a desert! If this means I can go to the battlefield soon, my Storm Axe is already hungry and thirsty for battle!!"
The dwarf king's boisterous, battle-hungry response, though perhaps ill-timed, served to ease the tense atmosphere of impending war, replacing it with a grim determination.
Varian Wrynn, ever eager for action, even volunteered to lead an expedition to Deepholm, the elemental plane of earth, to personally deal with Sinestra, the malevolent black dragon matriarch!
Galen had no objections to this, especially since Stromgarde would be dispatching its own forces to Uldum to directly confront the wind elementals that had so brazenly buried one of his coastal bases!