"Stop them! Don't let them get away!" Outside the Shala'nir cave, a night elf archdruid stood calmly giving orders to his druid forces, blocking the satyrs rushing out of the cavern.
Because it all happened so suddenly, and because the druids were too confident in the barrier they had set together with the green dragons, the defenses inside the cave were actually weaker than those outside. As soon as the satyrs broke free, the cavern fell almost instantly.
But the night elves were not so easy to defeat. Once they learned something had gone wrong in the Shala'nir cave, they quickly sealed the outer area, cutting off the satyrs' escape. Still, because the cavern itself was easy to defend but hard to attack, they could not launch a counterattack right away. For now, both sides were stuck in a standoff.
The archdruid in charge had already sent a call for help to the Temple of the Moon, and even reached Malfurion and the green dragonflight through the Emerald Dream. But no matter who answered, it would take time before any reinforcements could arrive.
What the druids did not realize yet was how serious the problem truly was. This was not just about a few satyrs breaking free—it was a danger that threatened the entire Emerald Dream.
And the one behind it all, the Shadow Weaver, was now using the Emerald Dream to contact the Nightmare Lord, Xavius.
After she released all the slumbering satyrs, their faith and power were felt by Xavius. Through a part of the Emerald Dream that had already begun to rot into the Emerald Nightmare, he linked to the real world. Shaladrassil, the world tree planted long ago under the guidance of the demigod Cenarius, stood there.
Though it did not receive the blessings of the four dragon Aspects like Nordrassil on Mount Hyjal, its meaning to druids was even greater. It was the most important gateway between Azeroth's real world and the Emerald Dream. Because of this, not only was it guarded by many druids, but Ysera herself had sent her strongest children to watch over the Dream's entrance.
But if druids and green dragons could pass through there from the Emerald Dream into reality, then Xavius could also pass through from the Emerald Nightmare into the real world. After all, the Nightmare was still part of the Dream.
Of course, since the Nightmare had not yet grown strong enough to twist the Dream completely, Xavius dared not descend in person and risk drawing the green dragonflight's notice. Instead, what the Shadow Weaver saw was only a projection.
"A human? I can feel the dark power inside you. So it was you who freed my children. Speak—what is your goal?"
At this time, the Nightmare Lord was not yet the massive, terrifying figure players would later see in the raid. His body still kept much of its satyr shape, only larger and stronger.
"Honored Lord of Nightmare, on behalf of myself and my master, I offer greetings to the great Nightmare God, Lord N'Zoth," the Shadow Weaver said, bowing slightly.
Yet her bow was not for Xavius—he was unworthy of that. It was for the one behind him, N'Zoth.
"How dare you! To speak the Nightmare God's true name so openly—do you know what that means?" Xavius' pupils narrowed sharply, and he roared in anger.
"Heh, of course I understand… what I don't understand is you, Xavius!" The Shadow Weaver showed no fear at his angry roar. Calmly, she lifted her hand, and from her sleeve slid out a tendril—upon it, a twisted, unnameable eye opened.
"…So, you are a servant of that Lord… It was rude of me. Thank you for what you've done. But tell me—what is your true purpose?" The moment he saw that tendril and its eye, Xavius' face changed completely.
After being taken in and remade by N'Zoth, Xavius naturally learned from his new master that there were other Old Gods besides N'Zoth. And Xavius was no fool. Though N'Zoth's whispers always praised him, Xavius had once reached the Black Empire itself. From the traces left by ancient times, he knew that among the four Old Gods, N'Zoth's rank was the lowest.
Yes, though N'Zoth appeared last and meddled the most, in truth he was the weakest of the four. Because he was weak, the Titans gave him less attention. The strongest one, Y'Shaarj, was slain outright by Aman'Thul. The relatively stronger Yogg-Saron and C'Thun were locked in much stricter prisons. Only N'Zoth's prison was left loose.
That was why N'Zoth managed to free more of his power earlier than the others, starting his schemes as far back as the War of the Ancients. But Xavius—he neither had the courage nor the means to reach out to the others. Even if he wanted to, there was no way to betray N'Zoth for them.
So when he saw signs of C'Thun's power, even Xavius couldn't help but shrink back a little.
"Do not worry, Lord Xavius," the Shadow Weaver smiled, pleased with his reaction. "What my master seeks does not clash with what yours seeks. In fact, I am here to ask for cooperation."
Of course, she was no true follower of C'Thun—C'Thun was unworthy. After all, by now he was nothing more than fuel for the Ancient One. The power she carried came from the Ancient One, only borrowed through C'Thun. But that didn't stop her from tricking both Xavius and N'Zoth.
Especially N'Zoth—he was timid to the core. Most of his strength had already broken free ten thousand years ago, yet he still dared not act openly until nearly all the Titans' safeguards had rotted away. Only then did he creep out to cause trouble.