Sylvanas took a breath, looked embarrassed, and looked at Antonidas aside.
Grand Magister Antonidas spread his hands and said that he had nothing to do.
Queen Azshara, the leader of the night elves ten thousand years ago, the absolute protagonist of that era, a mysterious, beautiful, and powerful existence, and the eternal legend of Azeroth.
Ten thousand years later, Azshara and her subjects became naga and lived in the depths of the sea. It was a forbidden place that was inaccessible to earthly creatures and where the seal of the ancient god N'Zoth was located.
How to invite Queen Azshara to summon the Dark Portal? This is a difficult problem.
Antonidas understood Sylvanas's difficulty and hurriedly asked with a spell: "Dear envoy, how can we invite Queen Azshara?"
The gorgeous coffin was silent for a long time, and then slowly said: "Maybe we can try to find the demon hunter Illidan."
After saying that, all the magic gems on the coffin were extinguished, and the angel fell into a deep sleep.
The ancient Zandalari Empire, the beautiful Sweet Water Cliff, has a calm beach.
Vol'jin, the great chief of the tribe, was lying comfortably on the warm beach, with a huge banana leaf blocking the dazzling sunlight. His long teeth were covered with fragrant barbecue, which you could taste as long as you stuck out your tongue.
The roasted minotaur meat smoked over low heat is juicy, juicy, fat but not greasy.
On this sunny noon, Wojin felt very comfortable and sleepy.
He was holding a newspaper in his hand. This was a gadget created by the goblins in Steamwheedle Port, reporting on major events happening across Azeroth.
The newspaper recorded the destruction of Orgrimmar in a huge page. The goblins of Steamwheedle satirized the Alliance, especially the night elves, for not saving Orgrimmar in a bitter tone, and treated Thrall and Thrall.
The glorious and great images of Rufal and other heroes were reported positively, saying that they sacrificed themselves for Azeroth and will live forever.
It reports on the death of Warchief Vol'jin in a large amount of space, especially a close-up photo of the airship that Vol'jin was riding plunging into the turbid flood. The spirit of vowing to live and die with the tribe will surely be passed down through the ages.
The goblins focused on depicting Vol'jin's great life. In order to save the continent of Azeroth, Vol'jin developed extremely simple habits. He used a toothpick for decades. This noble dedication is extremely admirable.
After watching it, Vol'jin felt a little funny. Everything was over. Those tribal generals were actually killed by Medivh. This was something Vol'jin didn't expect. He was glad that he didn't miss Orgrimmar, but chose to escape directly.
.
Squinting his eyes, Wojin looked at the beauties playing on the beach.
Warchief Vol'jin lives a very particular life and must be luxurious and luxurious. He especially likes beauties. In his villa in Sweetwater Cliff, he collected beauties from all races in Azeroth.
Beauties of all ethnic groups in cool clothes were playing on the beach, occasionally joking and joking, and it was full of laughter. Wojin couldn't help but sigh, this is the most beautiful scenery in life.
Vol'jin likes this kind of life very much. What is the purpose of working hard to become the warchief? Isn't it just for everything in front of him? Is it to save Azeroth?
Well, that's just lies.
Sticking out his long tongue, a piece of plump roasted tauren meat was put into his mouth, and he took another sip of coconut juice sent by the mother goblin. Wojin felt very enjoying it, but also a little regretful at the same time.
After the Battle of Orgrimmar, it will be a little difficult to eat roasted tauren meat.
Suddenly, a cool breeze blew across the warm beach, and Wojin felt a strong murderous aura.
He quickly grabbed the sand nearby, where a pair of sharp war blades were buried. With the weapon in hand, Wojin immediately felt confident. He jumped up in a hurry, bent down and prepared for battle, and looked around vigilantly.
The beauties of all races on the beach were still laughing and playing, unaware of the upcoming danger.
Vol'jin sniffed the nearby air, and he smelled the unique smell of moss, which was the breath of the deep forest troll.
Finally, a shadow appeared on the beach. It was an extremely strong troll with extremely sharp curved fangs, a face covered with deep wrinkles, and a pair of small eyes that were cruel and cunning.
"Is that you, Zul'jin?"
Wojin held his breath and held a pair of sharp war blades tightly.
Zuljin is an old troll, and he is the same generation as Vol'jin's father, Sen'jin. However, Vol'jin is the chief of the tribe and has a distinguished status, so Zul'jin has to salute him when he sees Vol'jin.
Vol'jin had long known about Zul'Aman's destruction, and had also guessed that Zul'jin had fled to the Zandalari Empire.
But he didn't expect Zuljin to find him so quickly.
"Hahaha, Vol'jin, the chief of the tribe, you are actually enjoying such a luxurious life. Oh, what have I seen? A pair of plump tauren sisters. It's really enviable. I don't know those people who thought you were dead.
If the tribe knows all this, how should they feel sad?"
Wo'jin smiled slightly and said calmly: "The people in the tribe don't know about the luxurious life of the great chief. They are just envious." Looking at the newspaper at his feet, Wo'jin added: "Reporting my simple life is just to deceive fools.
, how can a truly smart person be deceived by such an illusion."
"Well said, Vol'jin, hypocrisy and lies are everything in our lives. No wonder you can become the chief of the tribe." Zuljin looked at Wo'jin who looked wary: "Don't be so nervous, chief of the tribe."
Chief, our troll life is full of hardships, and we need to forget our hatred for each other when we must, right?"
Zuljin squinted his eyes, revealing a dangerous light, and said in a cold voice: "It was you who presented the secret recipe to Thrall back then, which caused me to be eaten by Thrall for thirty days, thirty days."
Vol'jin did not deny it, he knew that his conspiracy could not be hidden from Vol'jin.
In the twenty-sixth year of the Dark Portal, the Amani tribe led by Zul'jin tried to join the tribe, and it was Vol'jin's Darkspear tribe whose interests suffered the most.
Not to mention the generational hatred of the troll clans, each other's hands are stained with each other's blood.
The ancient Amani tribe alone, with its miraculous black magic, profound historical heritage, and worshiped gods, is not comparable to the Darkspear tribe. Zuljin's status in the tribe will inevitably rise rapidly, leaving Vol'jin far behind.
.
"What, Zuljin, are you here for revenge?"
Zul'jin took a few steps forward and came to Vol'jin's side. This was already a dangerous distance.
Vol'jin was unsure of how to deal with Zul'jin, so he cautiously took a few steps back.
Zul'jin grabbed the barbecue on the stove nearby and put it into his mouth, chewing heavily.
"Delicious roasted tauren meat is really a supreme enjoyment. Vol'jin, your tribe has been destroyed, and my Zul'Aman has also been occupied by the Forsaken. We are just two old dogs lingering on. Why bother to fight for the past?"
To fight to the death with hatred?"
Vol'jin was stunned. Zul'jin's attitude made him relax a little, although he still couldn't let down his guard.
"So Zul'jin, my old friend, what's the purpose of your trip?" Vol'jin asked carefully.
Zuljin continued to chew the barbecue, burping with enjoyment:
"Vol'jin, you are in danger. If God-King Rastakhan knew that Vol'jin, the chief of the tribe, was living in seclusion in the Zandalari empire, what do you think he would do?" (To be continued)