Commentaries on the Fourth War, Chapter 2

This is Chapter 2 in Sir Edrington W. Grunwald's book, the Commentaries on the Fourth War.

Chapter 2: Azerite and the False Peace
As I had mentioned before, Azerite was what indeed broke the Long Truce and gave way to the rapid escalation of hostilities following the War on Argus. After its discovery, a great desire to uncover more of the mineral and, more importantly, how far one side had outpaced the other gave rise to what I call the ‘Spirit of 628.’ This militant fervor and heightened suspicion, comparably higher to any previous post-war period since the end of the Burning Crusade and onward, characterized the general unwillingness to negotiate with the opposing faction and, furthermore, desire to claim the proverbial ‘first strike.’ This is not to say that there were absolutely no attempts at diplomacy, and it is fair to argue that it was the Grand Alliance, particularly under the leadership of King Anduin at the fore, who initiated diplomacy most frequently during the inter-war period. However, it would be a blatant falsehood to suggest that the Long Truce was supported purely by the Alliance – for, in fact, the Truce finds its roots, at least in the context of this argument, towards the end of the War on Pandaria.

While it is true, yes, that the Long Truce defined Alliance-Horde relations since the campaign in Northrend against the Lich King, I argue its slow decline began in the aftermath of the Horde Civil War against the late-Warchief Garrosh Hellscream. Following this, the Long Truce entered its ‘golden age.’ The invasion of the Iron Horde, the campaigns on Draenor, the initial invasion of the Burning Legion, and the assault on the Broken Shore all served as a testament to the capacity for cooperation between the Grand Alliance and the Horde. The merits of mutual non-aggression aside, the question stands: what led to the Truce’s decline? The blame falls on both sides, for even I, as an Alliance patriot, acknowledge the missteps taken by leaders of either side of the divide. Let us go through some of them, beginning with the invasion of Draenor and leading up to the end of the War on Argus.

Shortly after the end of the Horde Civil War and the cessation of hostilities on Pandaria, the arrival of the Iron Horde – that fearsome force from beyond the realm, divided from our world through time and arcane wizardry – signaled the next great conflagration for the peoples of Azeroth. For the most part, the forces of the Alliance and the Horde met the challenge admirably. There were, as is characteristic of the Long Truce, skirmishes on this new world. Opportunistic raids and naval battles were uncommon, but still noticeable all the same. However, the campaign on Draenor was also the high-water mark of post-Civil War cooperation, as the Alliance and Horde ultimately banded together under the guidance of the City-State of Dalaran and the legendary wizard Khadgar. A similar situation developed during the early stages of the War against the Burning Legion, particularly in the lead-up to the Invasion of the Broken Shores. Yet, it was that very same invasion that ultimately crippled the Long Truce, as the death of His Majesty, the late King Varian, and the retreat of Horde forces created a new rift between the Grand Alliance and the Horde.

Following the failed landings at the Broken Shore, a rapid series of political shifts occurred. First, King Anduin was declared the rightful successor to his father’s throne. The young king was thrust with directing the Alliance and, although he ultimately proved he was capable of the task, it is not unreasonable to suggest that King Genn of Gilneas, ruler-in-exile of the fallen Kingdom of Gilneas, took to the fore in spearheading the Grand Alliance. Second, the late Warchief Vol’jin, mortally wounded during the landings, transferred leadership of the Horde to the Banshee Queen Sylvanas. Although I do not know the reasons behind this succession, it is important to notice a shared trend between these two events: the most vocal and, I say so respectfully, militant elements in both the Alliance and the Horde obtained great positions of power in the aftermath of the landings on the Broken Shore. Now, I may continue with a great many reasons as to why King Genn and Queen Sylvanas assumed these militant positions but suffice to say that other histories will do justice to those explanations more adequately than I can. Instead, I focus on the relevancy of this development in the context of the Long Truce – that being that with both King Genn and Queen Sylvanas now holding important positions of power and leadership amongst their alliances, a confrontation was inevitable. This is no mere supposition, as history supports this argument. Queen Sylvanas spearheaded the invasion of Gilneas during the Great Cataclysm, beginning years of warfare that culminated in the so-called ‘Alliance-Horde War,’ also frequently named the real Fourth War, on Pandaria. Logic dictates that King Genn, seeking retribution, would utilize the panic and chaos of the War against the Legion as an opening to gain vengeance for the loss of his homeland.

And, unsurprisingly, this is what happened. Many of the skirmishes on the Broken Isles, namely in the province of Stormheim, were fought between contingents of King Genn and Queen Sylvanas. Although their motives are, again, unknown to me, we cannot ignore the hostilities that went on during arguably the darkest hour for our realm. Even as we were faced with the greatest enemy of the mortal races, second only perhaps to the darkness of the Void and the wrath of unknown Dark Gods, there were elements in the Alliance and the Horde, spearheaded by the two figureheads, that eagerly struck out against one another. Their followers, namely militant conservatives, carried on this tradition well after the end of the War against the Legion and the invasion of Argus. Therefore, as written earlier in this text, it was the aftermath of the War against the Legion that finally fractured the Long Truce and gave way to the False Peace of the inter-war period. Furthermore, I stress that the end of this truce was not brought about solely by one party or another, but by highly conservative and revanchist elements in both the Alliance and the Horde, spearheaded by two figures locked in a bitter and destructive rivalry that undermined any spirit of cooperation during the warring on the Broken Isles and the demon-world of Argus. The False Peace, then, was just that: the shattered remnants of the truce long-destroyed by Alliance and Horde revanchism.

With the Long Truce over, the False Peace reigned. From the end of the War against the Legion to the Burning of Teldrassil, the False Peace was defined by a constant state of political anxiety, expansion of military forces, securing of new economic resources – namely Azerite, and increased skirmishing of which I will discuss in the following chapter. I focus on the first three points mentioned previously. Beginning with political anxiety, it is a distinct and ever-present character of Alliance-Horde relations. Although the campaigns on Draenor and against the Burning Legion marked the highest point of cooperation, this is not to say that political anxiety was non-existent. The critical difference here is that the whole of the realm experienced a massive paradigm shift: The Legion was defeated, and Azeroth was victorious. With no significant external threat to threaten the status-quo, much like a man left alone to his own devices, attentions previously diverted to those threats now turned inward and closer to the home front. A great void was left, resulting in a straightfoward yet destructive formula – it was not a matter of would the ‘other’ strike, but when. This paranoia led to the push by both the Alliance and the Horde to create new alliances with many of the forces encountered on the Broken Shore and Argus. A military build-up followed, strengthened and funded by the discovery of Azerite.

While this is not a treatise on the arcane and alchemical properties of Azerite, there are material realities we can readily discuss. First and foremost, Azerite is an undeniably powerful substance. Preliminary reports on the element have described just wielding the ore will make one feel at peace with their surroundings. It has been proven to increase an individual’s vitality, mental comprehension, and a heightened sense of bodily control, including their strength, dexterity, and general alertness. When applied to our material technologies, Azerite amplifies the effects of many devices. Rumors of Azerite powder or liquid Azerite being mixed with gunpowder or machine oil, resulting in potent mixtures that can down mighty beasts in one shot or power siege engines for long periods of time, are a testament to the crystal’s power. It is no surprise then that it sparked a great deal of concern amongst Alliance and Horde leaders, leading to a surge in military deployments and a veritable boom in the realm’s economy. Although not openly circulated as a purchasable commodity, many economists and merchants noticed the immediate repercussions of Azerite’s introduction into the shared economies of the Grand Alliance. At the beginning of 628 KC, the value of gold – that shared marker of wealth and economic health – dropped, as is custom during a post-war period. With the militaries of the Alliance no longer pushing for increased production, as is typical of our command economies and limited free-markets, many war-time manufacturers and businesses quickly shifted their production from swords, guns, and bombs to craft goods. Typically, the price would even out and demand from the military or the State would be replaced by the demand of the People. However, in February, trickles of Azerite’s circulation – even its mere mention – sky-rocketed the price of gold to heights comparable to the initial months of the War on Argus. Wild speculation, coupled with an anxious State willing to reinvest into its military during a tenuous peace, returned the economy to war-time production. It is safe to argue that the inter-war economy following the War against the Legion was the most productive of any period that had come before it, even that of the one in the months leading up to the War on Pandaria.

And there it was: revanchists justified that their opponents across the Great Sea were plotting their next move, the economy experienced a massive stimulus from speculation and the introduction of Azerite, and both sides began the rapid build-up of military forces and the introduction of newfound allies in the wake of the War against the Legion. The next step was inevitable: escalation. Identifying exactly who or what began this next step on the warpath is difficult, but I argue that the preliminary strike was made by the Horde. As expected, the Alliance responded to the perceived aggression and so began the violent escalation to full-scale war.