Twilight Sparkle could scarcely believe her eyes. War had come to Equestria.
Griffins soared through the air past the tower window she was peering out of, strange green-skinned monsters riding on their backs. Pegasi rushed to meet them, engaging them in combat. The green creatures slashed at them with axes as the pegasi bucked bolts of lightning back at them. Every now and then, a broken and bleeding body would fall to the streets of Canterlot below. It wasn't clear which side was winning.
A great mechanical roar sounded as what seemed to be great birds made of wood and metal joined the pegasi in battle. Loud cracks pierced the air as round balls of metal shot from metal tubes built into the flying machines, striking the griffins and their riders. It seemed the pegasi and their strange mechanical allies might be getting the upper hand, but soon, out of nowhere, a great zeppelin soared in, more green monsters at its helm. A loud explosion rocked the tower as an even larger metal tube mounted on the zeppelin spewed fire and smoke, causing the combatants in its path to scatter.
Then, Twilight looked on in horror as the dreadful weapon trained itself on her.
Focusing her magic, Twilight teleported out of the tower to the street seconds before the strange cannon reduced the building to a pile of flaming rubble. Shaking the debris from her mane and coat, Twilight looked up to see things were even worse on the ground. The hulking green brutes were ravaging the streets, hacking at anypony who dared to stand in their path, soldier, guard, or civilian. There were other creatures, ape-like bipeds of varying sizes, that tried to push the green horde back, but their numbers were few and it was clear they were fighting a losing battle.
Suddenly, the battlefield that had once been the majestic capital of Equestria grew dark. Large black clouds blotted out Celestia's sun, with no pegasi seeming to be ushering them in. To Twilight's shock and horror, large boulders cloaked in green flame hurtled out of the sky and smashed into the city streets. Neither side seemed to take notice, even as hulking creatures made of rock and flame pulled themselves from the craters. They seized anything near them, soldiers from either side, and dashed them against the ground or nearby buildings.
Twilight could take no more. She ran. She didn't have any idea of where to go but she ran just the same. Anywhere was better than here. Evading the flaming behemoths as best she could, she only stopped when she reached the cliffs at the edge of the city. There, looming over Equestria, was a horror even greater than anything she had yet witnessed. Even though it was standing over Ponyville, the creature was large enough that Twilight could make out its features even at this distance. It was bipedal, clad in blackened armor with red sigils that constantly spewed flames into the air. Two massive wings like those of a dragon spread out from its back, seeming to scrape against the sky itself. Flames roared around the creature's head, looking almost like a mane and beard. Two gigantic horns rose from its brow, and it carried a sword that seemed to be split in two, with fire forming the top half.
The monstrosity turned its massive head and gazed at Twilight, its burning eyes boring into her very spirit. From its mouth came four dreadful words in a voice that sounded like the eruption of a volcano.
"The Legion has come."
At that moment, Twilight woke up.
The winds of Kun-Lai roared outside the prison. A single barred window was the only source of light for the sole occupant, barely allowing the sun through. It also allowed the biting cold of the mountains in to torment him.
It was a far cry from the throne room of Orgrimmar.
The prison cell within the bowels of Shado-Pan Monastery was the new home of Garrosh Hellscream. Son of Grom "Hero of the Orcs" Hellscream, former Warchief of the Horde... and the greatest enemy of Azeroth since the fall of Deathwing.
The Horde had betrayed him. He had cast the weak and the filth out of Orgrimmar, and they had run crying to the Alliance like the wretches they were. Now, they had cast him from the throne he had so rightly deserved and given him to the pandaren, who had then imprisoned him for "war crimes".
Garrosh spat on the floor. "War crimes". There was no crime in war. There were only winners and losers. The strong and the weak. Those whose names would forever be remembered, and those who were left to rot in the dust. That was the way it had always been, and always would be.
The cold didn't bother Garrosh as much as the dishonor dealt to him. He had grown up on Draenor. Like any true orc, he could handle any environment. No, the true torment came from the forced inactivity and the knowledge that those cowardly pandaren were keeping watch over him like a disobedient dog.
A sudden noise stirred Garrosh from his contemplation. He immediately rose and focused his full attention on the bolted prison door. At first, Garrosh thought his captors were coming to drop off the swill they had the audacity to call "food", but as the sounds grew nearer, those thoughts were driven from his mind. No, he would recognize that sound anywhere. It was the sound that haunted his dreams every night since his fall from the throne, the sound that he had been aching every moment to hear once again.
The sound of battle.
Suddenly, the door was thrown open, the bolt snapping like a dry twig. The body of a Shado-Pan monk was hurled through the passageway, coming to a violent stop as it collided with the walls of Garrosh's cell. The monk's throat had been slit with such force that he was nearly decapitated. Following close on the monk's heels was the one who had inflicted the terrible wound.
"Lok-tar, Warchief. The Kor'kron have not abandoned you."