1 - Coldridge Valley
Honestly, all I wanted was to walk for a bit, as far away from home as possible. Of course, in this world, 'far' is a matter of debate. Born in Shadowglen, a small village atop the great tree Teldrassil in Kalimdor, I found the ever-white Coldridge Valley, nestled between the great mountains of Dun Morogh, to be a good place to distance myself. Little did I know that Captain Joren Ironstock’s plea, when I stumbled upon him in Anvilmar—a bastion of dwarven craftsmanship nestled within the snow-laden valley—would be impossible to ignore
A recent earthquake had destroyed the home of the local troggs, humanoid creatures that live underground and resemble a cross between an early caveman and an ugly ape. The troggs blamed the dwarves for the calamity that had befallen them. Maybe they weren't entirely wrong; the earthquake had indeed caused the collapse of their cave, but the dwarves had been digging around as if they owned the mountain. Who knows what would have happened if the structural integrity of the underground had been left intact? However, that question is of little importance. As a member of the Alliance, I am honor-bound to aid all allied races in need.
The troggs, simplistic in their fury, were the first hurdle. The Frostmane Trolls, neighbors of the dwarves—and the original inhabitants of the area, according to sources not viewed favorably by the Alliance—stumbled upon a fire elemental. Convinced they could harness its power, their shaman attempted to bend the elemental to their will. It fell to me to stop them. To their credit, the dwarves suggested a surgical strike against both the elemental and the shaman to avoid civilian casualties, a plan I was more than happy to oblige.
With the elemental subdued, the implications became clear. Such raw elemental force suggested a rift, something the dwarves of Anvilmar were ill-equipped to handle alone. I was set to report this to the dwarves of Ironforge, but fate, as ever, had other plans. The path through Coldridge Pass, our only route out, collapsed, sealing us within the valley's icy embrace. Rescue came unexpectedly in the form of a gnome pilot, offering passage to Kharanos. While my druidic magic could allow me to transform into a creature of flight, I opted to test the mechanical reliability of gnomish engineering. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
Reflecting on the day's events, Coldridge Valley felt less like a mere starting area and more like a microcosm of Azeroth's larger struggles. It really reminded me of my time fighting in Alterac Valley, an epic battleground where two teams of 40 people each—one representing the Alliance and the other the Horde—battle it out in the snow-covered valley of Alterac. They face each other as well as the perils of the valley itself. A single fight in Alterac Valley could take hours, sometimes even days. Nowadays, I hear this type of battleground is not as popular. It’s not that people have become less violent; rather, the trend has shifted towards shorter, more intense matches that require less long-term planning and more split-second decisions.
As I continue my journey, I should mention that my adventures in Dun Morogh are not part of my quest to become a Loremaster—that tale will come in time. For now, it's about understanding the layers of history and conflict that shape the lands I traverse.
Until next time, Blennon
Blennon's journey takes place in the Argent Dawn(EU) server. If you want to keep following Blennon's adventures, subscribe to my blog via email or RSS feed.
Obligatory selfie with a Trogg #GroggTheTrogg #BFF #Friendshipgoals