World of Warcraft: Chronicle Volume 1 (19 page)

As Lei Shen led the charge, gloating in his impending victory, the
tol’vir activated the weapon. Deep within the earth, the device rumbled to life. The earth heaved and buckled as waves of force erupted from Uldum, bathing the surrounding land in the energies of uncreation. The tol’vir defenders and nearly every other creature on the surface of Uldum that day died instantly.

Creatures all across Kalimdor witnessed the flash on the southern horizon. When it subsided, Lei Shen and his allies were no more. The unleashed power had also purged the area around Uldum of almost all life, leaving only a cracked and barren desert behind. Pockets of plant and animal life would slowly return over the millennia, but the vast jungle would never fully regain its vibrancy.

The surviving tol’vir within Uldum worked to ensure that no one would ever again attempt to claim such power. They shrouded the few mountain passes that led into the region with magic. In doing so, the tol’vir effectively sealed Uldum off from the eyes of mortals.

The tol’vir’s noble sacrifice had kept the Forge of Origination out of Lei Shen’s hands and prevented any other
mogu emperor from daring to follow in his footsteps. The deaths of Lei Shen and the upper caste of the Zandalari left massive power vacuums in both empires. Before the tol’vir shrouded Uldum in their grand illusion, a handful of Thunder King loyalists recovered Lei Shen’s corpse from the region. They brought it back to the empire and enshrined it within the
Tomb of Conquerors. Yet with most of the Zandalari leadership dead, there was no one to revive the Thunder King.

A succession of emperors followed Lei Shen, but none would ever wield as much power as he had. The Zandalari, too, spent generations attempting to recover from the losses at Uldum. The catastrophic event had struck a mortal blow to both empires. Neither would ever regain its former glory.

And in time, both would crumble and fall.

T
he Thunder King’s death weakened the mogu, but their civilization continued lording over the vale. The empire’s slaves suffered greatly under Lei Shen’s barbarous successors, each ruler seemingly crueler than the last.

The final mogu emperor,
Lao-Fe, earned the title “Slavebinder” early in his tenure. He lived a life of decadence, confident that his supply of cowed slaves would never diminish. To earn their compliance, Lao-Fe would tear apart slave families for even mild transgressions. Parents were separated; children were dispatched to the
Serpent’s Spine to die as fodder before the
mantid swarm.

It was this very fate that befell the family of a
pandaren brewmaster named
Kang—his son was sent to the mantid, and his wife died trying to stop it. After the mogu left his home and his life in ruins, Kang nearly succumbed to despair. But soon his thoughts circled around a particular question: why? Why did the mogu inflict such pain?

Kang meditated on the slavery of his people, and he reached a radical conclusion. The extreme cruelty toward slaves was not a sign of the mogu’s strength. It was a symptom of their weakness. They had grown dependent on their servants; without them, they were nothing.

Kang devoted his life to exposing the mogu’s vulnerability. Apart from those who were sent to defend the Serpent’s Spine, no slave was ever permitted to touch a weapon (a crime punishable by death). Thus Kang taught himself to use his own body as one. To elude the ever-watchful eyes of the mogu, he learned to disguise his attacks as an artistic dance.

When he had finally mastered his techniques, he challenged his fellow slaves to strike him. None could. His “dancing,” his flowing movements, kept him free of harm. The slaves begged Kang to teach them how to fight unarmed. Kang did, and word of this strange new combat method spread quickly among the oppressed peoples of the mogu empire.

Hundreds of slaves adopted Kang’s teachings and devoted themselves to learning this newfound art, known thereafter as the way of the monk. When rumors of the movement reached mogu ears, Kang relocated his followers to Kun-Lai Summit, fully aware that his apprentices were not yet strong enough to topple their oppressors. In secret, the pandaren rebels built a monastery among the wind-lashed peaks and began to further train themselves as instruments of justice.

It was at Kun-Lai Summit that Kang found something utterly unexpected: the prison of
Xuen, the White Tiger. Kang communed often with the
August Celestial, learning the secrets of inner strength that lay within every heart. The pandaren master passed along Xuen’s wisdom to his followers. At last, the pandaren monks were ready to fight.

Their first major victory came at the
Mogu’shan Vaults, the sacred chambers that housed the
Engine of Nalak’sha. There, the rebels successfully drove the mogu away from the source of their flesh-shaping power. The pandaren’s devastating attack prevented the mogu from creating any new twisted soldiers.

This single victory not only heartened the pandaren but also drew other races to the rebellion. The
hozen, the
jinyu, the grummles, and a burly race of bovine creatures (called the
yaungol) all joined the effort to topple the mogu empire.

Bit by bit, the revolution grew. Kang was right: the mogu had grown too reliant on their slaves, and as more rebelled, the empire fell into chaos. The grummles, masters of communication and trade, disrupted mogu supply lines. The mighty yaungol led raiding parties to wreak havoc in the northwest. The wily hozen dug tunnels to infiltrate the mightiest mogu strongholds. The mystic jinyu communed with the waters of the land to glean the future, telling Kang’s forces where to strike and when to run.

Eventually Lao-Fe’s forces retreated to the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, the royal seat of the mogu empire. Kang knew the enchanted land could sustain them for as long as they desired. Thus, to defeat the mogu, the rebels needed to expose themselves and launch an attack.

Kang did not hesitate to do so. He personally led the charge, striking deep into the vale. He fought Lao-Fe hand to hand and defeated him, but the pandaren sustained mortal wounds in return.

The Slavebinder and the former slave died together.

Flushed with victory, some of the freed slaves considered seeking revenge against the surviving mogu, butchering them as they had butchered their vassals for millennia. Yet one of Kang’s most promising students calmed their bloodlust. As a secretive keeper of pandaren history, the pupil
Song had memorized many of Master Kang’s philosophies and tales. Song retold Kang’s stories again and again to the liberated slaves, reminding them about his commitment to true justice, not revenge. He walked from one end of the fallen empire to the other for the rest of his life, sharing Kang’s wisdom and urging all creatures to find emotional balance within themselves.

T
HE
S
HA

When Y’
Shaarj died, its blighted remains scattered across the Vale of Eternal Blossoms and the surrounding regions. In time, the Old God’s evil seeped into the land itself
.

   
During his journeys, Song became keenly aware of this dark power that lurked in the earth.
Y’Shaarj’s lingering essence latched onto and amplified negative emotions, giving rise to malevolent spirits known as the sha. By spreading Kang’s teachings, Song hoped that he could help the pandaren and other races negate the Old God’s influence and nullify the sha
.

As Song’s stories spread, others began to follow in his footsteps. More and more pandaren traveled the land, telling stories and encouraging inner peace in all they met. These “
Lorewalkers,” as they would eventually be named, became not only skilled storytellers but also conflict mediators, defusing tense situations with allegories and parables that would help all sides see reason and find a middle ground.

So began a time of peace and prosperity in and around the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. The pandaren, along with the other races that called the region home, flourished. A new empire—one built on the principles of justice, wisdom, and benevolence—emerged to watch over the war-torn land.

W
hen the mogu empire was at its height, an intelligent bovine race known as the yaungol roamed the grassy plains of central Kalimdor. These burly creatures lived in harmony with nature, following the guidance of the wise demigod
Cenarius.

Unlike many of the other
Wild Gods, Cenarius was more humanoid in appearance. The majestic half-stag, draped in a cloak of flowers and vines, often walked among the nomadic yaungol. He taught these creatures the secrets of the wilds, and he delighted in watching them flourish.

Eventually, the yaungol grew weary of sharing hunting grounds with nearby
trolls and decided to seek new lands. Although their beloved demigod Cenarius urged them to stay and make peace, they set out to the south. They hunted and foraged for food all the way to the edge of the mogu empire.

The emperor of the time,
Qiang the Merciless, found the yaungol and their immense physical strength fascinating. He ordered his flesh-shapers to capture the nomads and transform them into even mightier and more intelligent servants, while at the same time tempering their more savage instincts. The yaungol suffered under the tyranny of mogu oppression for generations until they rose up alongside the other slaves to overthrow their cruel masters.

Although the yaungol gained their freedom, they had lost much. Their strong oral storytelling tradition had all but vanished due to strict mogu laws that forbade them from discussing their heritage. Much of their rich history had faded away. Some yaungol clung to the faint memories and incomplete myths of a benevolent demigod who had once watched over them. Others insisted that the yaungol should abandon all tradition and forge a new destiny by force. The disagreements grew heated and, on certain occasions, even led to bloodshed. Most yaungol despised the violence and set out to the north, determined to return to a life of hunting and living among the spirits of nature.

Some of the more nomadic tribes traveled all the way across the continent, only stopping when they reached the frigid climes near the
Storm Peaks. Other tribes settled in the balmy areas of central Kalimdor and reunited with their ancient benefactor, Cenarius. Returning to their ancestral hunting grounds allowed them to rediscover their old traditions. Those who studied with Cenarius learned the druidic magic of the natural world, while others mastered the arts of wielding shamanic powers.