Sometimes, the fate of the world rested in mortal hands. This was exceedingly rare, especially in this magical world of mysterious powers. The chances of such a thing happening were so small that it had not happened once in tens of thousands of years.
But since the invasion through the Dark Portal, the world's stage had shifted from mysterious beings to mortals. From the Battle of Mount Hyjal to the current War of the Shifting Sands, mortals had remained the protagonists, while the dragons and demigods who represented those mysterious powers had faded behind the curtain of time.
Dick held the Scepter of the Shifting Sands, with hundreds of thousands watching him. Behind the Scarab Wall, which swayed visibly on the verge of collapse, countless eyes filled with malice watched him as well. But the paladin was not flustered.
He turned and raised the Scepter of the Shifting Sands high. Facing the soldiers and generals arrayed on the shifting sands, the paladin felt somewhat vexed.
At a time like this, he ought to say something inspiring. But he had already delivered Overlord Saurfang's speech from the War of the Shifting Sands back when he attacked Stratholme. Was he supposed to use it again?
No. The paladin shook his head, drew a deep breath, and spoke.
"I-I am the Northern Earl of Theramore, the leader of order in the Argent Dawn, the protector of the Battle of Mount Hyjal, the Dawn Knight of the human world, the conqueror of Blackrock Mountain, and the banisher of the Firelord! You all know me, and many of you have fought at my side!"
"But today, I have not come here bearing those illustrious titles and identities. I stand here as a warrior of the human world, as a protector of Azeroth!"
"Three thousand years