Tome of Blighted Implements
TOME OF BLIGHTED IMPLEMENTS
As recorded by Mile Raitheborne, Head Researcher of the Council of Six.
Ulthalesh, the Deadwind Harvester
ULTHALESH, THE DEADWIND HARVESTER
Those who care for their souls would be wise not to trifle with this cursed scythe. Few among the living know its origins, but its power are well known to the dead.
Ulthalesh gorges on the souls of its victims, gaining strength with each massacre. During the War of the Ancients, Sargeras gifted one of his favored necrolytes with this infernal blade. At the time, it was known only as Ulthalesh, it wouldn't earn its grim epithet until later, after Deadwind Pass was turned into a charnel house, its inhabitants obliterated, the land itself bereft of all life.
Since then, Ulthalesh has grown even more powerful.
Before his fall from the titan Pantheon, Sargeras defended creation from demons, imprisoning untold numbers of them in Mardum, the Plane of Banishment. Over the millennia, these demons were not idle. The dreadlord Ulthalesh ruled the pocket dimension with an iron fist, plotting for the day when he would exact vengeance.
When Sargeras shattered Mardum to recruit forces for the Burning Legion, he offered his former prisoners an ultimatum: join him or be cast into oblivion. Most of the demons accepted, but scores refused, rallying around Ulthalesh. In answer to the challenge, Sargeras forged a great felsteel scythe from the fires of Mardum's destruction, and he used it to harvest the souls of the recalcitrant demons, confining them in a new prison. Ulthalesh, strongest of will, was the last to be devoured.
Sargeras named the scythe Ulthalesh, after the dreadlord who had risen up against him. Ulthalesh's spirit gave the weapon unfathomable strength, but with that strength came a curse, for those who bore Ulthalesh were inevitably consumed by it. The scythe would obey its masters' commands until they were mortally wounded; then Ulthalesh would feast on their souls. Over the centuries, Sargeras bestowed the blade upon cunning nathrezim, ferocious doomlords, and even potent demigods, only to see their spirits devoured by Ulthalesh after they fell. The scythe grew stronger with each master it absorbed, and it became difficult for Sargeras to find servants who could control the weapon.
Over the wailing of souls trapped within the scythe, the Dark Titan could hear Ulthalesh's grim laughter.
During the War of the Ancients, the peoples of Azeroth rebelled against the Burning Legion's invasion, and Sargeras sought to break their will with Ulthalesh. But first, he had to find a servant who was powerful enough to wield it.
His thoughts turned to the eredar Sataiel. She was the first necrolyte with the strength to command the spirits of the living and the dead with fel magic, a feat that rivaled even Kil'jaeden's necromantic abilities. Sha was also notoriously ambitious, and fearless to the point of arrogance. Ulthalesh's baleful reputation did not sway her. When Sargeras gifted her with the weapon, she accepted it eagerly.
" I shall be its final master," Sataiel said.
Millennia ago, Sargeras gave Ulthalesh to Sataiel and commanded her to reap the souls of Azeroth's rebellious denizens, starting with the area that would later be known as Deadwind Pass. No one knows what the land was called before the coming of Sataiel. Most would rather not think of it at all. It is the burial site of countless trolls who were methodically slain, their spirits consumed by Ulthalesh, fueling its power to murder more. The scythe would feed and feed until all of the inhabitants were dead.
But Sataiel knew this was just the beginning, a promising start that only hinted at what Ulthalesh was capable of. Sargeras had dispatched her to break the will of Azeroth's denizens. It was not enough simply to kill them; bodies could be buried and forgotten. She decided to strike at the very heart of the land so that no new life could take up residence. With Ulthalesh, she would see that Deadwind Pass stood as a monument to the Legion's wrath.
Ulthalesh has had many masters, but Sataiel was the first to discover the scythe's true potential.
After she used Ulthalesh to consume the souls of all living creatures in Deadwind Pass, she turned the blade on the land itself, draining it of life. The trees were reduced to withered husks. The marshes became a desiccated waste. The sky turned a sepulchral gray, the sun covered in a burial shroud. Sataiel relished the despair of the scythe's new prisoners as they unwittingly assisted in the annihilation of their home. The destructuion was absolute. Even Azeroth's slumbering world-soul quailed.
Sataiel was impressed with her handiwork. So was Ulthalesh.
From the journal of Sataiel, recovered from the ruins of Deadwind Pass:
" I surveyed the ruination I had worught with great Ulthalesh, and it was glorious. Tha land was a mausoleum. Everywhere bas blight, decay, destruction-except for one area. The explosive force from our ritual had carved a massive crater into the ground, and it roiled with unnatural energies, forming a magical nexis. I knew in my bones that I had birthed a fount of power more potent than the scythe itself.
" I must inform Sargeras. But something gives me pause, something I cannot dismiss.
" What claim does Sargeras have to this power? Who else but I could have wielded the scythe to the fullness of its potential? No one. Ulthalesh knows this. He urges me not to surrender our progeny.
" With such strength at our command, he says we may one day challenge Sargeras."
Like all who presume to wield this pernicious blade, Sataiel was ambitious, strong willed, and supremely confident. She had come to Azeroth to prove herself to Sargeras, but when she saw the heights of power she could reach with Ulthalesh, she wondered whether she'd set her sights too low. She had massacred thousands, turned the land into a tomb, and ripped open a magical nexus of unspeakable force. Her destiny was bright, and she needed no one's patronage to achieve it.
Ulthalesh whispered to Sataiel from the scythe, infecting her mind. She decided to keep the magical nexus for herself, and she cast potent wards to hide it from the outside world. Then she cut off all contact with the Legion, biding her time until she and Ulthalesh had the strength to challenge the Dark Titan.
For centuries, the necrolyte Sataiel guarded Ulthalesh and hoarded the magical nexus they had created. When Sargeras discovered her deception, he was furious. The fount of power was his by right, and Sataiel was keeping it from him. Not only that, but his spies informed him that she was harboring delusions of grandeur, conspiring with the spirit of Ulthalesh to slay Sargeras. Such arrogance could not go unpunished. The upstart eredar had to be eliminated.
Sargeras found his champion in Scavell, the Guardian of Tirisfal. He sent the Guardian visions of a dangerous entity lurking in Deadwind Pass, a demon awaiting the return of the Burning Legion. Scavell boldly took up the charge, hunting down Sataiel and, after an epic battle, slaying her with her own weapon. Her soul was cast screaming into the scythe.
As the Guardian examined the blade, he was filled with dread. Rarely had he seen so mighty an instrument of death, and though he had slain its bearer, he wondered whether the real threat remained unchecked. He decided to hide Ulthalesh where no one would find it.
Empowered by Sataiel's spirit, the scythe had grown immeasurably stronger. There seemed to be no limit to how powerful it could become. Sargeras knew of Ulthalesh's scheming, of his promises to Sataiel that they could one day rival the Dark Titan. Although he dismissed this as mere bravado, he refused to give Ulthalesh the opportunity to make good on his threat.
Centuries after Scavell hid Ulthalesh, Sargeras twisted the Guardian Medivh's mind so he would assist him in regaining control of the scythe. The Guardian became obsessed with this task, and he dispatched the cursed Dark Riders to search for the blade and bring it back to the tower of Karazhan, which had been built on top of the magical nexus in Deadwind Pass--the nexus that Sataiel and Ulthalesh had created. Sargeras was pleased. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Riders would find the weapon, making a mockery of Ulthalesh's ambitions.
So powerful was Medivh's charge that the Dark Riders continued their quest for Ulthalesh even after the Guardian's death. Eventually, their leader, Ariden, was drawn to the scythe when he sensed the keening of the trapped souls within, and he brought it to the catacombs beneath Karazhan.
Ariden lacked the willpower and ingenuity of Sataiel, and his stewardship of Ulthalesh did not last long. There are conflicting reports about how he met his end. Some say he succumbed to the scythe's curse after he was defeated in battle, but others tell a different story. By all accounts, however, Ulthalesh went missing soon after Ariden's death. Its current whereabouts are unknown. Legend holds that only an individual of exceptional skill and fortitude can control it now.
The following is an excerpt from A Hypothetical Examination of the Legion's Weaknesses, author unknown. It has been deemed apocryphal by the Archival Authority of Argus and is currently banned in all Legion-controlled worlds.
" There are few things in creation that Sargeras fears. The Deadwind Harvester, Ulthalesh, is one of them. The necrolyte Sataiel regrets that she did not attempt to slay the fallen titan with it when she had the chance, so she will test whoever dares to wield the weapon in her stead. Ulthalesh does not mind. The scythe's master will either overcome Sataiel or be consumed, which will only make the blade more powerful. And then another bearer will take their place. And another.
" Ulthalesh has been playing this game with Sargeras for millennia. He knows the meaning of patience."
The Skull of the Man'ari
THE SKULL OF THE MAN'ARI
Behold the skull of Thal'kiel the Denied, once a great leader of the eredar. He gazed into the depths of the Great Dark Beyond and embraced that which gazed back. He saw worlds consumed by fel fire, dark creatures of the Twisting Nether overrunning mortal civilizations, the conquest of creation. Now all that remains of him is this skull, which lends the bearer his power to command demons.
Like most skulls, Thal'kiel's comes with a cautionary tale. Never mind that it's been heeded by none.
Before the coming of Sargeras to Argus, the eredar Thal'kiel ushered in a golden age for his people. Thal'kiel was a sorcerer of unparalleled talent, and he and his Wakeners pushed the limits of summoning and binding magics, conjuring the arcane entities that helped build the capital's wondrous architecture. Thal'kiel also devised the machines that focused the world's latent arcane energy, suffusing Argus with peace, harmony, and vitality. All were in awe of his abilities, including his young apprentice, Archimonde.
There were rumors that Archimonde coveted Thal'kiel's power and influence, but the eredar leader dismissed these as pure fabrication, for his apprentice had shown him nothing but devotion. Archimonde had even gone to great lengths to commission a custom-made crown for Thal'kiel, taking the measurements for his head himself.
Thal'kiel led an order of eredar magi called the Wakeners, specialists in the arts of conjuration and binding. They were renowned for their clever arcane constructs, exploring new frontiers in summoning. Yet Thal'kiel was never one to rest on his laurels. He thirsted for more. Seeking to elevate his order to levels undreamed of, he searched uncharted terrain, venturing farther than any eredar had dared before. His spells plumbed the vastness of the Great Dark Beyond, petitioning for a deeper well of power.
One day, he received an answer.
Thal'kiel was brilliant, but he was not wise. A dark presence whispered to him, and the eredar's mind was consumed with visions of power beyond his wildest imaginings, of ranks upon ranks of deadly servants eager to obey his every whim. These demonic forces made Thal'kiel's arcane constructs look like a child's playthings. Afterward, he would despise the arcane, his passion reserved only for fel magic.
Thal'kiel's mysterious benefactor bestowed upon him the ability to summon lesser demons, and the eredar immediately spread the knowledge to his Wakeners. Imps and felhounds, infernals and abyssals, all executed the commands of Thal'kiel and his sorcerers. Convinced that this was the start of a new era, Thal'kiel feverishly prepared to present his wondrous pets to the rulers of Argus, Velen and Kil'jaeden.
Brilliant. Not wise.
In the presence of Velen, Kil'jaeden, and the eredar rulers' inner circle, the sorcerer Thal'kiel demonstrated what his fel darlings could do. First, he summoned scores of his familiar arcane constructs and arrayed them in orderly rows. Then the sky went dark, and the clouds roiled as a storm of meteors crashed down. From the craters emerged an army of infernals--which Thal'kiel unleashed on the constructs. It was a symbolic display of the new era he saw for his people. He watched rapturously as the demons obliterated the unfortunate arcane entities, smashing and burning them until only smoke and embers remained. Such was the demons' fury that even the nearby columns and statues were reduced to rubble and ash. An acceptable sacrifice on the altar of progress, as far as Thal'kiel was concerned.
But when he looked upon his colleagues' faces, he didn't see the approval he expected. Kil'jaeden's expression was remote, inscrutable, but there could be no doubt about how Velen felt. He condemned Thal'kiel's new summonings and ordered him never to conjure them again.
The following is from an account of Thal'kiel's last days, written by an anonymous Wakener. It was recovered from Archimonde's private archive.
" After Master Thal'kiel's disastrous demonstration, Velen forbade him from conjuring demons, denouncing his 'new era' as a failed experiment. Thal'kiel withdrew to his chambers for weeks. He neither ate nor slept. His only companions were the demonic minions he would summon and then banish in rage, or so we guessed--all we could hear were the shrieks of imps as they were thrust back and forth between this realm and the Twisting Nether. We also sensed the presence of other, larger entities with him, shadowy apparitions of baleful influence, though his servants swore that no one had entered his sanctum.
" When finally Thal'kiel emerged, he was changed. He had aged by centuries, alone in the dark with his thoughts and his thralls. His back was twisted and stooped, and there was an odd glimmer in his eye. He summoned his Wakeners, and we answered the call, for we loved him like a father.
" He looked at each of us in turn, and said only, 'The new era begins'."
Thal'kiel commanded his Wakeners to continue their experiments to summoning fel creatures. In secret, he and his sorcerers conjured demons of increasingly dire aspect, and they cast powerful spells to hide their minions in covert training grounds. Shielded from the eyes of Velen and Kil'jaeden, Thal'kiel slowly amassed a great demonic army with one purpose: to install him as dictator of Argus.
The Wakeners were united behind Thal'kiel, save one--his apprentice, Archimonde. Although he had no aversion to demons-in fact, he rather enjoyed them--Archimonde was driven by ambition, and he was eager to prove himself to Velen and Kil'jaeden. The night before the Wakeners were to stage their coup, Archimonde revealed Thal'kiel's plans to the rulers of the eredar.
" You shall have his head for this," Archimonde said.
Velen and Kil'jaeden were stunned to learn of Thal'kiel's treachery. He had summoned legions of fel beasts to build his personal empire, plotting to assassinate the eredar rulers. He had tapped into a strange new power whose limits were unknown, and he needed to be stopped, swiftly and without mercy. To prove his loyalty to Velen and Kil'jaeden, Archimonde broke the wards that hid where Thal'kiel's demonic army was marshaled, and he led a contingent of magi in storming the secret training grounds.
The battle did not last long. Caught off guard, the Wakeners were easily defeated by the invading magi, and without commanders to direct them, the demons were slaughtered. Archimonde himself confronted his master as he was summoning reinforcements. With a single stroke of his blade, he decapitated Thal'kiel.
From chapter one of A Treatise on Eredar Phrenology:
" The science of phrenology--the study of skull shape as a means to determine intellectual aptitude--became popular in Argus around the time of the Second Duumvirate. Its proponents believed that an eredar's mental faculties, such as willpower, memory, and perception, could be attributed to the shape and size of various protuberances on that individual's skull. Some theorized that if an eredar's skull was sufficiently well-proportioned for spellcasting, it could be utilized to channel magical energies even after death. This practice was deemed too barbaric to be put into common use, though it was not unheard of.
" Among the most prominent phrenologists during this period were Thal'kiel and Archimonde. Thal'kiel in particular was noted for having the archetypal sorcerer's skull, for which he was widely admired."
After they crushed Thal'kiel's rebellion, the eredar rulers' magi burned the Wakeners' bodies so their fel taint would not spread, and they destroyed the rebels' writings to suppress the knowledge of their foul arts. Archimonde oversaw the effort, and when it was done, he was hailed as a hero.
Soon afterward, Archimonde commissioned one of Argus's finest jewelers to gild Thal'kiel's skull. He claimed that he was preparing it for viewing--as a grim warning not to follow Thal'kiel's path. In truth, he had it adorned with metals that would enhance its ability to channel magical energy, the perfect decoration for the perfect sorcerer's skull, which Archimonde proudly displayed in his domicile.
Archimonde eventually rose to lead the eredar alongside Velen and Kil'jaeden, and by all accounts, he was a wise and sagacious ruler. In actuality, however, a demonic presence had been slowly infiltrating Archimonde's mind, using Thal'kiel's skull as a conduit for its pernicious influence. While Archimonde slept, he saw visions of civilizations consumed in magnificent fel fire, and a dark god standing at the head of a glorious army. The entity whispered promises of strength that were impossible for mere mortals to comprehend, and Archimonde drank them in, eager to learn more of this mysterious being and his invincible legions.
Thus when the Dark Titan, Sargeras, finally came to Argus and offered the eredar a place in his kingdom, Archimonde was the first to accept.
After Archimonde became one of the Burning Legion's generals, he put Thal'kiel's skull to good use. In life, Thal'kiel had been unmatched in his ability to control demonic minions, and his skull was no less adept. World after world fell before Archimonde as he channeled his commands through the skull, compelling multitudes of demons to obey, his forces obliterating opponents with the grace and precision of an expertly choreographed ballet.
Since then, possession of Thal'kiel's skull has passed between a handful of Sargeras's elite generals, with preference given to those who lead invasions of the fallen titan's most sought-after worlds. The dreadlord Mephistroth, commander of the Legion's vanguard in Azeroth, was the last to be seen with it.
The Scepter of Sargeras
THE SCEPTER OF SARGERAS
Mortal hands were not meant to hold this staff. It was forged on the orders of Sargeras after his defeat in the War of the Ancients, intended as a means to conquer Azeroth once and for all. This scepter rips open the fabric of reality, obliterating the barriers between words, destroying everything that stands between you and your goal.
If you're lucky, that's all the damage it will do.
During the War of the Ancients, the night elf queen Azshara and her Highborne sorcerers attempted to open a portal that would allow Sargeras into Azeroth. The challenge was unprecedented; never before had anyone built a gateway that was strong enough for a titan. For weeks the Highborne labored without rest, crafting and weaving spells to devise a passage through the night elves' colossal fount of power, the Well of Eternity.
But just as Sargeras was about to emerge into the world, the night elf resistance disrupted the Highborne's spellwork and demolished the Well of Eternity. Sargeras was cast back into the Twisting Nether, his ambition denied, his greatest chance to conquer Azeroth slipping from his grasp. The Dark Titan swore revenge.
He would tear down the walls between himself and his prize.
After his defeat at the Well of Eternity, Sargeras immediately planned his next method of infiltrating Azeroth. He knew he couldn't rely on a static portal; to serve a titan, such a gateway required an astronomical amount of power, and the most promising source had been destroyed in his last attempt. Moreover, the Highborne's laborious preparation and spellwork had given away his intentions, which had allowed the night elf resistance to thwart him. If he wanted to overcome Azeroth's defenders, Sargeras needed to enter the world with minimal warning.
Thus he commanded the eredar to forge a tool that would wrench open rifts between worlds for only a short time, just long enough to let a portion of his soul through. Although that meant he couldn't enter Azeroth in his most devastating form, such an instrument would clear a path for his avatar to lead the Legion's invasion or carry out subtler schemes.
Such an instrument would also weaken the integrity of the physical universe and threaten to collapse it, but Sargeras considered those to be only side benefits.
Millennia ago, Sargeras ordered his most talented eredar sorcerers to construct him a cosmic battering ram. They did not disappoint.
First, scores of magi conducted dark rituals to channel countless portals into a single staff. They then projected the empowered artifact into every corner of the Great Dark Beyond, weaving it into the fabric of reality, creating a thread that could be pulled to unravel the seams of the physical universe at will. To fuel this monstrous undertaking, a hundred warlocks sacrificed a hundred demons, selecting them from among the Legion troops that had been part of the failed invasion of Azeroth.
Thus was forged the Jeweled Scepter of Sargeras. Thus was born Azeroth's doom.
The Scepter of Sargeras is known for the gleaming jewel that adorns its apex. Many theorize that it represents Sargeras's baleful eye, which caught only a glimpse of Azeroth before the fallen titan was ripped back to the Twisting Nether. But the truth is far different.
Soon after the War of the Ancients, Sargeras had a vision: the Well of Eternity imploded once again, but this time, it dragged him down to the very core of Azeroth. He was there for only an instant, but in that moment, he saw Azeroth's slumbering world-soul--and in that moment, the world-soul opened one eye and gazed at the Dark Titan. He was enraptured.
Since then, the eye of Azeroth's world-soul has not been far from his thoughts. He commanded the eredar who forged the scepter to crown it with that lone, wondrous orb. Next to it, the eredar placed two nathrezim wings, a testament to Sargeras's conception of the world-soul: corrupted, demonic, and most importantly, his.
The Scepter of Sargeras was a marvel of arcane and fel sorcery, an instrument fit for a titan. It could lacerate the connective tissue of the physical universe, opening portals to any realm Sargeras desired, yet the rifts it created would allow only a portion of his soul to enter. It was a minor setback. Sargeras would simply have to be more inventive with his plans. And so, he waited.
Millennia later, Sargeras saw his opportunity. The Guardian Aegwynn had become the most powerful mage on Azeroth, and not even the Council of Tirisfal could control her. Her pride made her a fine candidate for corruption. Sargeras could not infiltrate Azeroth in his most lethal form, but perhaps he could use the rebellious Guardian as a vessel for his machinations.
From the journal of Aegwynn, Guardian of Tirisfal:
"We had finished routing the Legion's minions when the sky turned black. My mouth went dry, and the hairs on my neck bristled, responding to stimull that my mortal senses could not comprehend. It was like the coming of a monstrous storm, right before the thunderheads would unleash their cataclysmic onslaught. Yet the air remained as still as great Galakrond's bones. Something was wrong, very wrong, and all we could do was wait."
"I'll always remember that sound. That slippery, hollow, CRACKING sound, like that of a mace splitting a giant's skull. But it was bigger than that-louder, longer. It pierced me like an arrow through my chest, though I knew the breach had happened some distance away. The edges of the world seemed to quiver, and for an instant I thought they might collapse. But they did not."
"That was when the avatar of Sargeras entered the field of battle."
In the icy wastes of Northrend, Sargeras drew the Guardian Aegwynn into battle, advancing on his opponent as the portal he'd torn into Azeroth closed behind him. His avatar was but a pale shadow of his true form, but that hardly mattered. After all, even if he couldn't defeat Aegwynn, he could still use her for his own ends. He had only to weaken her defenses, to create an opening for a shard of his spirit to break through. Just as he'd infiltrated Azeroth with the scepter, so too would he invade Aegwynn's soul, corrupting it into another instrument of the Legion.
Afterward, Aegwynn would remember the battle as the most brutal she'd ever fought, but she finally destroyed the avatar of Sargeras in an avalanche of arcane might. As she stood triumphant over her fallen foe, she could scarcely believe that she had won.
Little did she know that she had lost.
From the journal of Aegwynn, Guardian of Tirisfal:
"I have defeated the avatar of the Great Enemy, Sargeras, but I cannot enjoy my victory. There is a hollowness inside my breast, a persistent ache from a wound whose origin I do not know. It must be from the strain of the battle.
"I will dispose of the remnants of the fallen titan's incursion. His avatar, though but a fragment of his full form, rivals Galakrond in stature, and I cannot let his bones take up residence next to the gargantuan proto-dragon's. Who knows what foul taint lies in wait to be released? Even in death, the corpse is malevolent, gripping its cursed scepter as if it still intends to rule."
"The scepter. No one must be allowed to wield it. This was the instrument Sargeras used to enter Azeroth, tearing a gash in the universe that threatened to obliterate our world. The eye on top of the staff stares out, mocking me. I shall ensure that it never sees the light of day again."
After Aegwynn defeated Sargeras's avatar, she interred his corpse in the ruins of Suramar, along with the artifacts that he bore. Deep beneath the sea, shielded by enchanted Highborne seals, the Scepter of Sargeras remained for centuries, its power undiminished.
Sargeras attempted to regain control of the staff through Aegwynn, but the task proved more difficult than he had estimated. He could sway the Guardian in many ways, but he could not compel her to exhume his scepter from its watery grave. Something held her back, a primal instinct louder than Sargeras's whispering. She knew the artifact was dangerous, that its use risked the destruction of all things. Even possessed by the Dark Titan, she would not yield.
Sargeras realized that greater subtlety was needed. Eventually, he extended his pernicious influence to Aegwynn's son, Medivh, as he developed in her womb. Through this new vessel, Sargeras planned to recover his beloved scepter.
Had he succeeded, the world of Draenor might not have been annihilated.
Other than the Dark Titan, the Scepter of Sargeras has had few wielders. One of them was the orc warlock Ner'zhul.
After the Horde's defeat in the Second War, Ner'zhul sought to reinvigorate his followers by opening gateways to new worlds for them to conquer. To that end, he dispatched his servants to recover various artifacts from the Tomb of Sargeras, including the scepter, which the fallen titan had used to infiltrate Azeroth centuries before.
Ner'zhul was not Sargeras, however, so he could not simply command the staff to open portals. He had to wait until the constellations of Draenor were properly aligned, and he could only use the scepter in conjunction with other artifacts. The warlock grew impatient, frustrated with his limitations. Intoxicated by the Skull of Gul'dan's influence, he had visions of his erstwhile apprentice, who urged him to unleash his godlike powers.
When at last the moment arrived for Ner'zhul to act, he did so with wild abandon, heedless of the consequences. It mattered not to him if Draenor was destroyed; in fact, he welcomed it as part of his legacy. With the scepter, he blasted hole after hole through the fabric of reality, shredding the seams connecting Draenor to the rest of the physical universe. As he rushed headlong through one of the portals, he could hear the world shattering behind him.
After Draenor was destroyed, the demon lord Kil'jaeden wrested control of the Scepter of Sargeras from Ner'zhul. At last, the artifact was back in the Legion's possession, and Kil'jaeden would set about using it to invade Azeroth.
But he was not as powerful as Sargeras; he could not open a portal mighty enough even for his avatar. Thus he conspired with Kael'thas Sunstrider to create a gateway through the Sunwell, the blood elves' ruined fount of power. Combined with the world-rending force of the scepter, Kael'thas's portal cleared the way for Kil'jaeden's full form.
However, before the demon lord could set foot on Azeroth, Anveena, the embodiment of the Sunwell's energies, intervened. She sacrificed herself, unleashing all of her strength on the Deceiver and allowing him to be thrown back into the Twisting Nether-along with the Scepter of Sargeras.
The staff has not been seen on Azeroth since. A small comfort, for surely the Legion will use it to infiltrate the world once again. But no matter who wields it, the threat it poses is unspeakable. The destruction of Draenor is testament to the devastation that even mortals can wreak with this weapon.
- Patch 7.0.3 (2016-07-19): Added.