I am something... different now.

The denizens of Azeroth once again find themselves on the precipice of doom and it falls to the Prophet to warn them of the coming winter of discontent. That's me. The Prophet. Medivh.

I don't mean to be arrogant or anything, but I've kind of adopted that title since I died and decided I had to make up for bringing war on Azeroth by warning them of a third war. So I kinda skipped the second. Yeah, here's the deal...

The First War of Azeroth began when I, under the influence of the Fallen Titan, Sargeras, opened the Dark Portal and allowed the demon-blood-influenced orcs to run amok in the human lands of Azeroth. That's about when they killed me. They destroyed Sargeras (I think... maybe) but my spirit escaped.

Evidently there was a Second War that I had nothing to do with. After this is when they sealed my portal, and then there was peace for a while... until I started feeling kind of odd. I felt like Lordaeron was about to be destroyed. And I felt like it was because of the Burning Legion. With my mom's help, I attained a human form and went and warned everyone I could and tried to start an alliance that could battle against this powerful foe. All but one human and her followers ignored me. The orcs and the night elves were at my side, though. That's why I called myself The Prophet. Because I was pretty much prophesying what was to come and telling them how they could win against damnation. With them all together we fought the Third War and defeated Archimonde upon Mount Hyjal.

Then I thought I could take a vacation. I thought, "Hey, these mortals are working out pretty well! I think they can handle Azeroth on their own!"

Well, I didn't take into account that they would REOPEN MY FRIGGIN PORTAL!! As soon as I found out they had done that, I moved back into my tower, Karazhan, only to find out that some raving, Reggaeton-loving Man'ari Erodar demon, Malchezaar had pretty much just DECLARED it to be his home! It's alright, though, we're cool now. We're pretty much roommates. Even though he annoys the hell out of me sometimes.

When I got back home I started trying to read up on the last few years, but I ended up being distracted by raids and raids of random adventurers wanting to play chess with me. I didn't mind 'cause I like the game and they tended to continue on afterwards to mess with Malchie, so I was fine with that. But it did distract from my studies.

Then... Echoes of Doom. I started hearing about The Lich King. That was a name I had not heard in a long time. And it had previously been associated with the spirit of an orcish Shaman, Ner'zhul. The Legion had used him in the Third War to create an army of undead soldiers called the Scourge. Evidently, while I was off vacationing in the other-world, Prince Arthas merged with this being and is now powerful enough to make a full-scale attack on the entire world of Azeroth!

Well, raiders rarely visit anymore, so I decided it was about time to catch up on my Azerothian history. I'm all caught up now. And now my plan is to write journal entries on the latest happenings of Azeroth. The only problem is my dad gave away my journal! So I'm starting a blog.

How's that for a first post? The Lich King will strike soon. Look for me again when I am able to travel to Northrend and explore the Cold North.

Also, follow me on Twitter. I love that site.