A gnawing urgency perpetually resided within Galen's heart, the spectral specter of the original Prince Galen's ill-fated destiny haunting his every waking moment. He was a man racing against a predetermined future, and his first strike against fate was the relentless pursuit of his own power.
Only after the weight of his conversation with his father settled did a sliver of relief pierce his anxiety. The second step in his audacious plan to rewrite his destiny was already in motion. He would soon depart this familiar city, seeking a secluded sanctuary to finally summon the enigmatic Heart of Origin – a Titan artifact that had pulsed within the recesses of his mind for over a decade. What wonders, or perhaps dangers, did this creation hold? He was desperate to know.
Galen bid farewell to Danath, their parting a promise of reunion on the morrow. Danath, now the adjutant of the local militia stationed at Goshek Farm, was also preparing for his return, a multitude of responsibilities awaiting his attention.
As Galen emerged from the castle's imposing gates, two figures materialized from the shadows, their movements crisp and disciplined. These were Omar and Varokal, the handpicked captains of his personal guard, warriors whose loyalty had been forged in the crucible of the royal army. "Your Highness," they intoned in unison, their salutes sharp, falling into step behind him like unwavering sentinels.
"Omar," Galen began, his voice low and thoughtful as they walked, "has any noteworthy news reached your ears of late?"
Omar, positioned to his right, responded instantly. "Your Highness, disturbing whispers have surfaced regarding our own Royal Archmage Hadley. He has vanished without a trace." A frown furrowed his brow as he continued, his tone laced with unease. "And it is not isolated to Stromgarde. Merchants from across the land speak of similar disappearances and deaths of mages in Lordaeron, the Stormwind Kingdom, Gilneas, and even within the hallowed halls of Dalaran. The Royal Mage Corps of Stormwind, in particular, was reportedly annihilated, the scene radiating a palpable evil, sowing fear amongst the nobility."
Galen absorbed this grim tidbit with a chilling lack of surprise. His memories of a past life painted a clear and ominous picture: this was the handiwork of Medivh, the Guardian twisted and corrupted by the malevolent will of Sargeras. Those who had perished were undoubtedly members of the vigilant Council of Tirisfal.
From its very inception, the Council of Tirisfal had stood as a bulwark against demonic incursions into Azeroth, their mandate later expanding to encompass the monitoring of all wielders of arcane energies. But their long history of banishing demons had earned them a place of prominence on the Burning Legion's most wanted list, a list headed by the dark titan Sargeras himself.
With the Council silenced, Sargeras's next move, Galen knew with a sickening certainty, would be to reach out across the cosmos to Gul'dan, the treacherous orc warlock on distant Draenor, to orchestrate the opening of the Dark Portal and unleash the Horde upon Azeroth.
Time is a viper coiling tighter, Galen thought grimly. The insidious merging of Medivh and Sargeras's souls meant that the recent slaughter of mages likely signified Sargeras's ascendance, the Guardian's noble spirit suppressed. The construction of the Dark Portal, the harbinger of unimaginable chaos, must already be underway.
Turning to his other guard, Galen's voice sharpened with purpose. "Varokal, report on the progress of the preparations I entrusted to you." Varokal, the younger of the two, his eyes gleaming with eagerness, replied instantly, "Prince, the detailed map of Arathi is complete. We are ready to move at your command."
"Excellent. Both of you have served well. Once my final arrangements are made, we shall depart on this venture." Galen suppressed the urgent thrumming in his veins. Prudence still dictated careful preparation. "Bring me the map with haste." He needed to pore over its contours, to identify the ideal sanctuary for his nascent ambitions.
The map Varokal procured from the royal library was a masterpiece of cartography, its details meticulously rendered. Galen's mind flashed back to the questing maps of his previous life, their layouts surprisingly similar, yet this was no mere game; this was the tangible reality of Azeroth.
The Arathi Highlands were a land embraced by mountains on three sides, the formidable Alterac range stretching endlessly to the north, east, and south. Beyond the southern peaks lay the strategic Thandol Span, where the industrious Bronzebeard dwarves of Ironforge had erected a marvel of engineering – a cross-sea bridge facilitating trade and travel with their Wildhammer kin in the Hinterlands. This span served as a vital artery for the kingdom's commerce with the dwarven realms.
To the west, where the highlands met the rolling hills of Hillsbrad Foothills, lay a vast, open plain. Here, as a testament to centuries of conflict against the northern trolls, the ancient Arathor Empire had erected the imposing Wall of Thoradin, a colossal barrier bisecting the entire region from north to south.
Scanning the map, his fingers tracing the intricate network of towns and villages, Galen sought out the sparsely populated corners of the highlands.
The southwest, anchored by the bustling capital, was far too densely inhabited. While the rugged terrain of Faldir's Cove offered some seclusion, its proximity to the Thandol Span, a major thoroughfare, rendered it unsuitable. It was the first to be crossed off his mental list.
The northwest was dominated by the Wall of Thoradin, a critical military zone. The northern reaches, nestled within the Alterac Mountains, were dotted with numerous noble estates and their associated mineral wealth – equally undesirable.
For what felt like an eternity, Galen's gaze danced across the parchment. Finally, two locations emerged as potential havens. The first lay in the northeastern extremity of the Arathi Highlands, a desolate stretch of borderland where, in the future, humanity would erect the Fifth Orc Containment Camp, the site that would eventually become known as Hammerfall.
The second was nestled within a secluded valley in the southern highlands, the future location of Stonefist Hall. This natural amphitheater was shielded by mountains to the east and west, with the northern branch of the Thandol Span bordering its western edge. Galen recalled a faint path at the southernmost tip in his past life's gaming experience, a potential site for a future pier, a vital link for his burgeoning enterprise.
Ultimately, Galen's decision settled upon the valley that would one day echo with the crude stone structures of Stonefist Hall.
Both Hammerfall and Stonefist Hall offered the crucial element of remoteness, situated on the kingdom's fringes. Before fully committing to his audacious plan of summoning the Heart of Origin – an endeavor shrouded in uncertainty – Galen envisioned a clandestine early development, leveraging his princely authority to establish a hidden base. Later, once firmly established, this base would serve as a powerful engine to bolster the kingdom's strength and crush its myriad enemies.
The geographical advantages of Stonefist Hall tipped the scales. While the dense forests of the Alterac Mountains offered comparable secrecy, Stonefist Hall's proximity to the kingdom's more prosperous regions promised easier access to vital supplies. Furthermore, its connection to the Thandol Span offered the potential for future naval development, facilitating troop deployment across the land.
However, a shadow of concern flickered across Galen's mind. The Stonefist Hall region bordered the territory of the savage Witherbark trolls. Caution would be paramount. An ancient adage from his past life echoed in his thoughts: Build high walls, store grain widely, and become king slowly. For now, stealth and measured growth were paramount. But the day would come when the base's strength would be sufficient to eradicate the Witherbark threat and claim their lands.
With a provisional location selected, the next crucial step was a firsthand reconnaissance. Relying solely on a map was insufficient. If Stonefist Hall proved unsuitable, the alternative site near Hammerfall would also require his personal inspection.
Galen summoned Omar and Varokal, their faces etched with anticipation. "Prepare the necessary provisions for a journey," he commanded. "Assemble a small, discreet caravan by tomorrow morning. We depart at first light."
As his loyal guards dispersed to fulfill his orders, Galen turned his attention to his own preparations, a whirlwind of anticipation and apprehension swirling within him. The future of his kingdom, perhaps even Azeroth itself, rested on the success of this audacious endeavor.