Amun Base, a formidable Crusader stronghold, clung to the southwestern coast of Uldum, a testament to Galen's strategic foresight. Originally the venerable ruins of the Tol'vir's Amun tribe, it had been meticulously reshaped and fortified by Galen, transforming ancient stones into a bastion of modern warfare.
With the Halls of Origination now under Galen's direct jurisdiction, Uldum had shed its ancient magical veil, rejoining the vibrant tapestry of Azerothian civilization. Yet, centuries of isolation, coupled with the Tol'vir's fierce pride in their Titan heritage, meant that only Stromgarde, through Galen's personal influence, maintained any significant contact with this reclusive race.
As a coastal city, Amun Base boasted a colossal port, a vital artery through which Uldum's unique treasures flowed to the wider world. But this tranquil commerce was about to be shattered.
Not long ago, the azure skies above southern Uldum had been violently rent asunder. Through the gaping tear, a colossal, ethereal city of pure white marble descended from the heavens, its impossible architecture shimmering with otherworldly light. Elegant, towering pillars of pristine white marble pierced the very clouds, while swirling cyclones of pure elemental energy connected sprawling platforms, all bathed in the kaleidoscopic glow of the elemental plane of air. This was the Skywall, the Vortex Pinnacle, a fortress of unimaginable power, long sealed away by the Titans themselves, now unleashed upon Azeroth!
In the primordial dawn of Azeroth, the elements had reigned supreme. The four Elemental Lords, each commanding legions of lesser spirits, waged endless, cataclysmic wars across the surface of the nascent world. Al'Akir the Windlord, the most cunning and insidious of them all, had woven a web of deceit, dispatching his servants as spies to sow discord among his rivals, fanning the flames of suspicion and turning their fury against each other. He had summoned hurricanes and thunderous gales, scourging the land, and now, his tempestuous wrath was once again unleashed upon the mortal realm. The Vortex Pinnacle, his very fortress of war, served as his devastating vanguard!
The elementals, imprisoned within the Skywall for hundreds of thousands of years, surged forth, their patience exhausted, their fury unbridled. They poured from the Vortex Pinnacle like a living storm, a relentless torrent of raw elemental power, launching a ferocious assault on Amun Base!
At the vanguard of this ethereal army rode a creature of pure, swirling wind and lightning, a being reminiscent of a genie from ancient lore. This was Assad, the West Wind Prince, a harbinger of destruction.
Assad commanded a maelstrom of crackling lightning and devastating winds. This tempest, a swirling vortex of emerald energy and blinding electricity, slammed into the ground, kicking up vast plumes of yellow sand that scoured everything in their path.
Caught completely off guard, the musketeers stationed on the base's ramparts were ripped from their positions, flung into the churning sky by the hurricane-force winds like rag dolls. On the ground, heavily armored infantry struggled against the invisible force, their boots digging futilely into the shifting earth as they desperately sought the shelter of any sturdy structure.
Boom!
The next moment, a searing bolt of cerulean lightning coalesced in the hands of the West Wind Prince, a spear of pure energy, and struck the town hall in the very heart of the base!
The dazzling lightning, a blinding lance of destruction, tore through the town hall's clock tower, reducing it to a crumbling cascade of stone and shattered gears!
Boom!
Another thunderous strike, and the roof of the town hall exploded inward, revealing the splintered furniture and shattered remnants of its interior to the raging storm!
Then, one by one, the base's formidable defenses—the sturdy arrow towers, the powerful turrets, and the arcane-infused magic towers—shattered and collapsed under the relentless elemental assault!
At this very moment, hundreds of miles away, Galen, still presiding over the Azeroth Summit, heard a dense, urgent chorus of prompts echoing in his mind, the familiar, insistent chimes of his Origin Heart system.
Though the manifestation of the Vortex Pinnacle and the elemental army's swift attack had been sudden, Galen had anticipated this very scenario. Days ago, he had halted all commercial activities within Amun Base, and its civilian population had been fully evacuated. All that remained were the soldiers, a carefully positioned force meant to engage and confuse the wind elementals, buying precious time for the grander strategy to unfold.