Twinblades of the Deceiver
TWINBLADES OF THE DECEIVER
Alas, poor Varedis. We knew him well... but do not mourn him. His death was far too swift and merciful for a traitor who spilled so much Illidari blood.
These weapons of his are truly dangerous, infused with the essence of his eredar master, Kil'jaeden. They will try to make you the Deceiver's new puppet. Do not give in to weakness as Varedis did.
These weapons were owned by Varedis Felsoul. He was an Illidari, one of the finest demon hunters ever to join our ranks.
And then he betrayed us all. The power in these weapons was Varedis's reward for turning on his brothers and sisters and joining the army he had once sworn to defeat. We cannot change what he did. But we can avenge every drop of blood that he spilled on the Legion's behalf, and with these warglaives, we can return the favor a thousand times over.
With a little luck, these weapons will one day be turned against Varedis's master.
Let us not forget what Varedis Felsoul accomplished. He was among the first five blood elves sent by the crown prince Kael'thas Sunstrider to train with Lord Illidan Stormrage as demon hunters. It was a brutal affair. Three of those elves died in training, and a fourth was lost to madness.
Only Varedis survived. The hunger to kill demons was strong within him, too strong to let him fall before he had tasted the Legion's blood. He sacrificed his eyes with a smile and without even flinching at the pain.
He was —he seemed to be— one of the most dedicated souls ever to challenge the Burning Legion.
Once Varedis had earned his place among the Illidari, his training continued. It was a trial by fire, inexperienced demon hunters did not have the luxury of studying for years in libraries or classrooms before entering combat. Fresh recruits were sent out on dangerous missions, accompanied by experienced mentors.
Varedis trained with three of Illidan's best fighters. Time and time again, his blades joined theirs in spilling demonic blood across the cosmos.
Within a year, Varedis had surpassed his mentors and was helping other recruits survive their first contacts with the Legion. He had become truly effective, occasionally accompanying Lord Illidan himself on his most important journey.
Varedis's most fateful mission was a solo task. On Outland, Lord Illidan had heard too many reports that the remnants of the Shadow Council were active. Varedis was dispatched to scout for--and steal--any information he could find.
Little blood was spilled that day. Varedis snuck into a cave complex inhabited by Shadow Council acolytes without drawing attention to himself. He found something odd, a book that radiated with demonic essence. Inside was priceless information about the nature of demons, their weaknesses, and their habits. This tome, the Book of Fel Names, contained within it tremendous power.
And it was impossible to remove. The Shadow Council had enchanted it in ways that stopped Varedis from taking it from the cave.
Thinking quickly, Varedis simply imbibed as much of the book's power as he could. He left it in place, and the Shadow Council had no idea an Illidari had even been there.
Lord Illidan praised him for his achievement. After all, using the demons' own power against them was the central purpose of a demon hunter. Varedis's pride swelled.
Varedis enjoyed his heightened power for years, using it to become a stinging thorn in the Burning Legion's side. He could sense the movement of demons before he saw it happen; he understood what they were thinking before they acted.
But Varedis did not know that he had not stolen the book's power. He had simply become linked to it.
When the Burning Legion invaded Outland, chaos erupted. Illidan put his final plans into effect and called upon all Illidari to help him.
Champions of the Horde and the Alliance stormed through the Dark Portal to stave off the Burning Legion's assault. They confronted members of the Shadow Council and stole the Book of Fel Names, breaking the enchantments that had held it in place.
This would prove to be Varedis's downfall.
Neither the Horde nor the Alliance understood Illidan's plans. They believed him to be an ally of the Legion. Acting upon this belief, they laid siege to the Black Temple. Many Illidari tried to stand in their way. Varedis was one of them.
But he was confronted by powerful enemies who possessed the Book of Fel Names. They began to destroy the book, page by page, and Varedis was stunned to realize that the book's destruction was weakening him. His borrowed demonic power faded quickly.
Varedis died in the Black Temple. His soul, imbued with demonic energy, did not rest easily in oblivion. It was whisked away to the Twisting Nether.
It is a risk all demon hunters face. By stealing the demons' power, our souls may return to their domain--and their control--after we fall in battle.
This was Varedis Felsoul's fate. Kil'jaeden himself claimed his soul and heaped endless torment upon him.
Varedis resisted for a time. It was not the pain that broke his spirit. Kil'jaeden is called the Deceiver for a reason, after all. The eredar lord played upon his shock from that battle in the Black Temple. Champions had been prepared to face Varedis; who had told them about his borrowed power?
It had not been demons, certainly. The Legion would have preferred to have the Book of Fel Names back intact. It had not been the Shadow Council, for the same reason. "It must have been the Illidari," Kil'jaeden told him. "Only they knew of your power. They betrayed you."
Varedis would come to believe him.
Once Kil'jaeden had poisoned Varedis's mind, he began to tempt the fallen Illidari. The demon hunter had only tasted the Legion's true power. Should Varedis pledge himself to the Burning Legion, he would receive the full measure.
Varedis agreed, breaking every one of his oaths and betraying every one of his comrades.
Kil'jaeden had special plans for him. With the help of other eredar, Kil'jaeden conducted a dangerous, agonizing ritual, infusing a small part of his soul into Varedis's spirit. When the ritual was complete, Varedis was not a demon hunter but a demon, loyal to the Burning Legion and hungry for vengeance.
Varedis found that his weapons, these warglaives, had also been changed. The ritual had imbued them with another slice of Kil'jaeden's astonishing power.
In the years after Varedis's conversion, he became a terror to all who might oppose the Burning Legion. World after world, city after city, innocent after innocent, he was sent to spill blood.
Often he worked quietly. Secretly. The Burning Legion did not want any on Azeroth to know his true potential.
But the Legion did allow him some satisfaction from time to time. Those few among the Illidari who had escaped after Illidan's death had fled to the corners of Outland and Azeroth. Varedis was dispatched to hunt them down, one by one. It was a task he relished. They had betrayed him, in his mind.
For a long time, we Illidari did not know who was hunting us. It was not until the Legion's arrival on the Broken Isles that he finally revealed himself.
When the Vault of the Wardens was raided, a shadow was seen in the sky. Someone swooped down again and again, slaughtering the newly freed Illidari who were trying to escape. That was Varedis Felsoul. He could not resist the opportunity to butcher so many of us.
He likely had a tactical reason for doing so. His actions alerted us to his presence. He knew somebody would come for him, one of the strongest among the Illidari, and he believed he could set a trap to kill them.
Perhaps he regretted that decision in his last moments.
Let Varedis's story be a warning. He was dedicated, he was powerful, he was clever, and he was effective... and yet his will could not survive the thought that he had been betrayed by one of his own. No Illidari is without weakness. No Illidari is immune to temptation.
The Burning Legion knows this. Whatever flaw you have, the Legion will test it.
But until that day, let them fear us once again. These warglaives hold a measure of Kil'jaeden's power, so he was undoubtedly pleased to know that our kind was dying to their blades.
He will not be so pleased to see what we will do with these weapons next.
The Aldrachi Warblades
THE ALDRACHI WARBLADES
The countless nicks and gouges that mar the Aldrachi Warblades form a map of their violent history. These weapons have vanquished thousands of demons and absorbed their twisted souls. It is said that the warblades even drew the molten blood of the Burning Legion's ruler, Sargeras.
Truly, there is extraordinary power in these otherworldly blades. In your hands, there is no telling what havoc they will wreak on the Legion.
The scattered legends that remain of the ancient aldrachi speak if their unsurpassed skill as warriors. These proud people were bred from birth for combat. Their entire culture revolved around it. Military service was mandatory for all aldrachi, and it began as soon as child could walk.
So it was with Toranaar. After he took his first step, he was cast into the merciless aldrachi war machine.
He came from a long line of respected warriors, and his elder brother was the greatest among them. Given Toranaar's pedigree, expectations for him were high. He would not disappoint.
Toranaar endured years of brutal training, tests of strength meant to cull the weak from the strong. One thought propelled him through the pain and suffering: winning the right to carry warblades.
More than titles or wealth, the aldrachi coveted weapons as prizes, possessions, and symbols of status. Warblades eclipsed all other types of arms in prestige. These mighty weapons were fashioned from rare crystals found deep below the earth. The strange minerals had many unique properties, the greatest of which was their ability to absorb the spirits of the dead. Blacksmiths employed closely guarded techniques to enchant these crystals and forge them into instruments of death.
The resultant warblades could consume the souls of their victims. Each devoured spirit imbued the weapon with greater power. The most ancient warblades contained thousands of souls, and they were revered just as much as —if not more than— the fearsome aldrachi warriors who bore them in battle.
As the young Toranaar lay in bed every night, his body bruised and broken, he pictured himself carrying warblades of his own. He willed that vision to become a reality.
Toward the end of his training, Toranaar had his final and greatest test. The aldrachi military high command chose an elder warrior at random to battle the young initiate in a fight to the death. The day of the duel came, and Toranaar stepped into the ritual fighting pit to face his opponent.
It was his older brother.
Toranaar spared his sibling only a passing glance. He fixed his eyes on his opponent's gleaming warblades. Toranaar's dream was within reach, and nothing would keep him from it. Not even family.
The two brothers grappled through the night and into the next day. Both were on the verge of death when Toranaar finally disarmed his kin and took the warblades for himself. Without uttering a word, he buried the weapons in his brother's chest, and they drank deep of the fallen warrior's soul.
Stories of the aldrachi reached the Burning Legion and its ruler, Sargeras. He and his demon army had decimated countless mortal civilization in their quest to extinguish life from the cosmos. Sargeras was always eager to find mighty new races that he could bend to his will and use as agents of destruction. The aldrachi seemed like the perfect candidates for servitude.
Rather than destroy the aldrachi world outright, Sargeras ordered his forces to invade it. The Legion would wear the warriors thin until they were ripe for demonic conversion. Sargeras knew that his followers would suffer great losses against the enemy, but that did not discourage him.
Whether it took a year, or ten, or a hundred... Sargeras would make the aldrachi his.
Excerpt from the nathrezim records known as ::
"Curious creatures, the aldrachi. Much more resillent and promising than anticipated."
"The Legion stormed their little world with overwhelming force, a sea of pit lords and felguard, of shivarra and mo'arg, ebbing and flowing from horizon to horizon. Still, the aldrachi held the invasion at bay. Hundreds of demons fell just to claim one of their warriors. The aldrachi fought like ravenous beast, and none with more ferocity than the creature called Toranaar the Indomitable."
"His warblades howled over the clamor of battle, rending anything that came near. Each demon Toranaar vanquished seemed to fill him with renewed vigor and strength. He was an army unto himself."
Wave after wave of demons slammed into the aldrachi lines. Toranaar and other seasoned warriors repelled each attack, but the Legion's numbers never diminished. For every demon defeated, another would take its place. Slowly and methodically, the Legion whittled away the aldrachi resistance and pushed them back to the towering stronghold in the heart of their war-torn capital.
Only Toranaar and a handful of champions remained. Each of them carried warblades teeming with the souls of thousands of victims they had cut down. In all directions, corpses of aldrachi and demon alike blanketed the earth. It is said that not a bare patch of ground could be seen for leagues.
Toranaar rallied his allies in preparation for another Legion attack, but it never came. To the aldrachi's confusion, the demons halted their advance. A monstrous figure then emerged from the Legion's ranks.
It was Sargeras, and he had come with an offer for Toranaar.
No one knows for sure what form Sargeras took to confront Toranaar. Some nathrezim records say that the Legion's colossal ruler infused a sliver of his power into an avatar and dispatched it to the aldrachi stronghold. Whatever the truth, it is certain that he called for Toranaar to join the Legion.
Sargeras promised the aldrachi warrior and his allies power beyond anything they had ever dreamt of. They would serve as his personal guards, and they would command tens of thousands of demons in war. Sargeras believed that such an offer would prove irresistible to the battle-loving aldrachi.
Toranaar's rejection was emphatic. He vowed to destroy the Legion for all of the aldrachi the demons had killed, or die trying. Either way, he would never bow to Sargeras.
Demons still whisper of the battle between Toranaar and Sargeras. The gathered Legion host watched with rapt attention as their ruler dueled with the aldrachi warrior. At any moment, Sargeras could have simply annihilated Toranaar, but destruction was not what he wanted.
Sargeras desired to corrupt the aldrachi champion, and he would need to exhaust Toranaar to succeed. For days, the Legion's ruler did so. Like a cruel predator toying with prey, Sargeras battered Toranaar with just enough force to wear him down.
Toranaar was a seasoned warrior, and he recognized Sargeras's ploy. He knew he could not best the Legion's commander in combat, and so he decided on one final act of defiance. Toranaar feigned submission. When Sargeras let his guard down, the aldrachi champion struck.
His warblades ripped through Sargeras's hide, and fire burst from the wound. Though it was only a minor injury, the other aldrachi howled in triumph.
It was the last time such war cries would ever echo through their once-great capital.
Toranaar's defiance infuriated Sargeras. In an instant, he ripped the warrior and his fellow aldrachi champions to pieces. So great was Sargeras's wrath that nothing was left of their bodies but dust. The Legion's ruler then commanded his armies to bathe the aldrachi world in an inferno that would smolder for eternity.
Though Sargeras had failed to corrupt the aldrachi, all was not lost. He had left the warblades used by Toranaar and his kin intact. If the aldrachi would not serve the Legion, their formidable weapons would.
Sargeras ordered his lieutenant Kil'jaeden the Deceiver to distribute the warblades of the aldrachi. Over thousands of years, the demon sought out the Legion's greatest warriors. Those who met Kil'jaeden's standards received a set of warblades. In demonic hands, these weapons went on to massacre civilizations, exterminate entire races, and consume the souls of a hundred thousand dead.
In time, Kil'jaeden had circulated all of the warblades, save the ones that had belonged to Toranaar. These were the most powerful arms taken from the aldrachi. Kil'jaeden kept them under close watch, awaiting a champion ruthless enough to wield the fabled weapons that had made Sargeras bleed.
After years of waiting, Kil'jaeden found someone worthy of wielding Toranaar's warblades. Her name was Caria Felsoul, and she was one of the Illidari's most cunning and adept demon hunters.
Caria had willingly turned on the Illidari and pledged herself to the Legion in exchange for power, and Kil'jaeden rewarded her. He flooded the demon hunter with dark energy and molded her into his perfect servant. Before unleashing Caria on his enemies, he gifted her the Aldrachi Warblades.
Kil'jaeden relished this final act, knowing it stood against everything Toranaar had fought for. The aldrachi had used his warblades to uphold the dignity of his people and reject Sargeras's offer of power. Wielded by a traitor like Caria, the weapons would become tools of betrayal, murder, and dishonor.
Note from the Author
Research efforts press on, my master. There's more information to be uncovered in these texts. The only thing that can hold me back is time.
Come back after further research hass been completed and I will continue to expand this tome.
Head Researcher Vahu
- Patch 7.0.3 (2016-07-19): Added.