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WarCraft War of the Ancients Archive Paperback – December 11, 2007

4.8 out of 5 stars 54 customer reviews

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Editorial Reviews

About the Author

Richard A. Knaak is the New York Times bestselling author of some three dozen novels, including the The Sin War trilogy for Diablo and the Legend of Huma for Dragonlance. He has penned the War of the Ancients trilogy, Day of the Dragon and its upcoming followup, Night of the Dragon. His other works include his own Dragonrealm series, the Minotaur Wars for Dragonlance, the Aquilonia trilogy of the Age of Conan, and the Sunwell Trilogy -- the first Warcraft manga. In addition, his novels and short stories have been published worldwide in such diverse places as China, Iceland, the Czech Republic, and Brazil. 

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

The Well of Eternity


The tall, forbidding palace perched atop the very edge of the mountainous cliff, overlooking so precariously the vast, black body of water below that it appeared almost ready to plummet into the latter's dark depths. When first the vast, walled edifice had been constructed, using magic that melded both stone and forest into a single, cohesive form, it had been a wonder to touch the heart of any who saw it. Its towers were trees strengthened by rock, with jutting spires and high, open windows. The walls were volcanic stone raised up, then bound tightly by draping vines and giant roots. The main palace at the center had originally been created by the mystical binding of more than a hundred giant, ancient trees. Bent in together, they had formed the skeleton of the rounded center, over which the stone and vines had been set.

A wonder to touch the hearts of all when first it had been built, now it touched the fears of some. An unsettling aura enshrouded it, one heightened this stormy night. The few who peered at the ancient edifice now quickly averted their gaze.

Those who looked instead to the waters below it found no peace, either. The ebony lake was now in violent, unnatural turmoil. Churning waves as high as the palace rose and fell in the distance, crashing with a roar. Lightning played over its vast body, lightning gold, crimson, or the green of decay. Thunder rumbled like a thousand dragons and those who lived around its shores huddled close, uncertain as to what sort of storm might be unleashed.

On the walls surrounding the palace, ominous guards in forest-green armor and wielding lances and swords glared warily about. They watched not only beyond the walls for foolish trespassers, but on occasion surreptitiously glanced within...particularly at the main tower, where they sensed unpredictable energies at play.

And in that high tower, in a stone chamber sealed from the sight of those outside, tall, narrow figures in iridescent robes of turquoise, embroidered with stylized, silver images of nature, bent over a six-sided pattern written into the floor. At the center of the pattern, symbols in a language archaic even to the wielders flared with lives of their own.

Glittering, silver eyes with no pupils stared out from under the hoods as the night elves muttered the spell. Their dark, violet skin grew covered in sweat as the magic within the pattern amplified. All but one looked weary, ready to succumb to exhaustion. That one, overseeing the casting, watched the process not with silver orbs like the rest, but rather false black ones with streaks of ruby running horizontal along the centers. But despite the false eyes, he noted every detail, every inflection by the others. His long, narrow face, narrow even for an elf, wore an expression of hunger and anticipation as he silently drove them on.

One other watched all of this, drinking in every word and gesture. Seated on a luxurious chair of ivory and leather, her rich, silver hair framing her perfect features and the silken gown -- as golden as her eyes -- doing the same for her exquisite form, she was every inch the vision of a queen. She leaned back against the chair, sipping wine from a golden goblet. Her jeweled bracelets tinkled as her hand moved and the ruby in the tiara she wore glistened in the light of the sorcerous energies the others had summoned.

Now and then her gaze shifted ever so slightly to study the dark-eyed figure, her full lips pursing in something approaching suspicion. Yet, when once he suddenly glanced her way, as if sensing her observation, all suspicion vanished, replaced by a languid smile.

The chanting continued.

The black lake churned madly.

There had been a war and it had ended.

So, Krasus knew, history would eventually record what had happened. Almost lost in that recording would be the countless personal lives destroyed, the lands ravaged, and the near-destruction of the entire mortal world.

Even the memories of dragons are fleeting under such circumstances, the pale, gray-robed figure conceded to himself. He understood that very well, for although to most eyes he resembled a lanky, almost elven figure with hawklike features, silvering hair, and three long scars traveling down his right cheek, he was much more than that. To most, he was known as a wizard, but to a select few he was called Korialstrasz -- a name only a dragon would wear.

Krasus had been born a dragon, a majestic red one, the youngest of the great Alexstrasza's consorts. She, the Aspect of Life, was his dearest companion...yet once again he dragged himself away from her to study the plights and futures of the short-lived races.

In the hidden, rock-hewn abode he had chosen for his new sanctum, Krasus looked over the world of Azeroth. The gleaming emerald crystal enabled him to see whatever land, whatever individual, he desired.

And everywhere that the dragon mage looked, he saw devastation.

It seemed as if it had only been a few years ago when the grotesque, green-skinned behemoths called orcs, who had invaded the world from beyond, were defeated. With their remaining numbers kept in encampments, Krasus had believed the world ready for peace. Yet, that peace had been short-lived. The Alliance -- the human-led coalition that had been the forefront of the resistance -- had immediately begun to crumble, its members vying for power over one another. Part of that had been the fault of dragons -- or the one dragon, Deathwing -- but much had simply been the greed and desire of humans, dwarves, and elves.

Yet, even that would have passed with little concern if not for the coming of the Burning Legion.

Today, Krasus surveyed distant Kalimdor, located on the far side of the sea. Even now, areas of it resembled a land after a terrible volcanic eruption. No life, no semblance of civilization, remained in those areas. It had not been any natural force, however, that had rent the land so. The Burning Legion had left nothing in its wake but death.

The fiery demons had come from a place beyond reality. Magic was what they sought, magic they devoured. Attacking in conjunction with their monstrous pawns, the Undead Scourge, they had thought to lay waste to the world. Yet, they had not counted on the most unlikely alliance of all...

The orcs, once also their puppets, had turned on them. They had joined the humans, elves, dwarves, and dragons to decimate the demonic warriors and ghoulish beasts and push the remnants back into the hellish beyond. Thousands had perished, but the alternative...

The dragon mage snorted. In truth, there had been no alternative.

Krasus waved long, tapering fingers over the orb, summoning a vision of the orcs. The view blurred momentarily, then revealed a mountainous, rocky area farther inland. A harsh land, but one still full of life and capable of supporting the new colonists.

Already, several stone structures had risen in the main settlement, where the Warchief and one of the heroes of the war, Thrall, ruled. The high, rounded edifice that served as his quarters was crude by the standards of any other race, but orcs had a propensity toward basics. Extravagance to an orc was having a permanent place to live at all. They had been nomads or prisoners for so long that the concept of "home" had been all but lost.

Several of the massive, greenish figures tilled a field. Watching the tusked, brutish-looking workers, Krasus marveled at the concept of orc farmers. Thrall, however, was a highly unusual orc and he had readily grasped the ideas that would return stability to his people.

Stability was something the entire world needed badly. With another wave of his hand, the dragon mage dismissed Kalimdor, summoning now a much closer location -- the once proud capital of his favored Dalaran. Ruled by the wizards of the Kirin Tor, the prime wielders of magic, it had been at the forefront of the Alliance's battle against the Burning Legion in Lordaeron and one of the first and most prized targets of the demons in turn.

Dalaran lay half in ruins. The once-proud spires had been all but shattered. The great libraries burned. Countless generations of knowledge had been lost...and with them countless lives. Even the council had suffered badly. Several of those Krasus had counted as friends or at least respected colleagues had been slain. The leadership was in disarray and he knew that he would have to step in to lend a hand. Dalaran needed to speak with one voice, if only to keep what remained of the splintered Alliance intact.

Yet, despite the turmoil and tribulations still ahead, the dragon did have hope. The problems of the world were surmountable ones. No more fear of orcs, no more fear of demons. Azeroth would struggle, but in the end, Krasus not only thought it would survive, he fully believed it would thrive.

He dismissed the emerald crystal and rose. The Dragon Queen, his beloved Alexstrasza, would be awaiting him. She suspected his desire to return to help the mortal world and, of all dragons, she most understood. He would transform to his true self, bid her farewell -- for a time -- and depart before regrets held him back.

His sanctum he had chosen not only for its seclusion, but also for its massiveness. Stepping from the smaller chamber, Krasus entered a toothy cavern whose heights readily matched the now lost towers of Dalaran. An army could have bivouacked in the cavern and not filled it.

Just the right size for a dragon.

Krasus stretched his arms...and as he did, his tapering fingers lengthened farther, becoming taloned. His back arched and from near the shoulders erupted twin growths that quickly transformed into fledgling wings. His long features stretched, turning reptilian.

Throughout all these lesser changes, Krasus's form expanded. He became four, five, even ten times the size of a man and continued to grow. Any semblance to a human or elf quickly faded.

From wizard, Krasus became Korialstrasz, dragon.

But -- in the very mid... --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.


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Product Details

  • Series: Warcraft
  • Paperback: 736 pages
  • Publisher: Gallery Books (December 11, 2007)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 1416552030
  • ISBN-13: 978-1416552031
  • Product Dimensions: 6 x 1.8 x 9 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 1.6 pounds
  • Average Customer Review: 4.8 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (54 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #61,907 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Customer Reviews

Top Customer Reviews

Format: Paperback
This review is for people who are about to start reading somw Warcraft books. I have created a chronological list of the Warcraft novels for people to get an overview of all of the books and for people to know where to start:

Warcraft books timeline
1. Warcraft War of the Ancients Archive
-Trilogy Book One: The Well of Eternity
-Trilogy Book Two: The Demon Soul
-Trilogy Book Three: The Sundering

-Rise of the Horde (about the horde in Outland)

2. Warcraft Archive (Warcraft 1)
-Book One: Day of the Dragon
-Book Two: Lord of the Clans
-Book Three: The Last Guardian
-Book Four: Of Blood and Honor

-World of Warcraft: Tides of Darkness (Warcraft 2)
-World of Warcraft: Beyond the Dark Portal (Warcraft 2 exp)

3. Warcraft The Sunwell Trilogy Archive (Warcraft 3)
-Trilogy Book One: Dragon Hunt
-Trilogy Book Two: Shadows of Ice
-Trilogy Book Three: Ghostlands

-World of Warcraft: Cycle of Hatred (Right before World of Warcraft)

Warcraft Legends
-Volume One
-Volume Two
-Volume Three
-Volume Four

-World of Warcraft: Night of the Dragon
Hope that you can use this. Cheers Martin!
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Just a fantastic story and rich in lore for the hardcore of wow fans.

The book in total is huge as it took all 3 War of the Ancients books and condensed them in this single archive, and for the price its worthy of any lore nerd.

There's a rift in wow fans when it comes to the books authors and Knaak unfortunately catches a lot of flak when he writes up a new WoW book for the masses...but I feel he really hit the marks in this trilogy. A quick summary has the author writing about his two favorite characters (Krasus and Rhonin) traveling back in time with an orc named Broxigar and the three must help the Night Elven society fight off the first coming of the burning legion into Azeroth without revealing events that happen up to their present or else the future as they know it might change forever.

The book feels like you're progressing through the entire event at a good pace and important characters (Malfurion, Illidan and Tyrande) to name a few feel like their stories are fleshed out quite nicely.

Compared to some of the newer books Blizzard has published, this is one you'll enjoy.
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Love all things WOW, and this was not an exception. This is a very expensive book, and a very awesome and rare find. To get it in even |Good| quality would really speak of the love and care they took to keep this thing. If you can get it for the right price, do it! This book has some of the best information and back story on WOW I have seen yet along with "Dawn of the Aspects."
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This is most definitely Knaak's best work among the warcraft novels he has penned and I highly recommend it.

I would almost agree with another reviewer that Knaak is at best a Most average fantasy writer but this series invokes a bold, fresh, and exciting innovation that although is difficult to notice at first,really pays tribute to his creativity

Within the context of the books, especially the latter two, KnaaK's story plays out with an odd similarity to Homer's Iliad. Knaak's take on achilles's rage is somewhat manifest in Neltharion (a character which should have had more development), the fields of troy akin to the plains between Zin-Azahri and Mount Hyal, and champions on both side of conflicts. Mind you, he does not rip from the Iliad, i am merely saying that he seems to draw inspirations from it to create a story that truly has a most epic feel. Which is befitting for this particular chapter in warcraft lore.

Also of note: Knaak goes to great lengths to really expand on the framework of the warcraft lore in such a way that the book becomes most nostalgic to warcraft fans yet he retains a simplicity that allows those unfamiliar with the warcraft universe to enjoy it as well (the warcraft archive (another bookset) does not have this versatility).

I was dissapointed in aftermath/end of the book. It seemed as if the author was rushing what should have been an additional 3 chapters and rolling them into 1. It's brevity downplayed the grandness of the story
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I have to disagree with other reviewers who found this book mediocre. I have read nearly every World of Warcraft book, and I found this one to be among the best. For people who don't play the game, this is still a great fantasy novel.

The book actually contains a trilogy about a group of heroes trying to defeat the ultimate evil, with the very fate of the world hanging in the balance. I found the way Knaak wrote the characters of Krasus, Rhonin, and the Night Elves to be very well done. I also thought the story plot was well thought out, with plenty of twists and surprises to keep it entertaining. I was grateful that I read this book after all three original novels were completed so that I wouldn't have to wait to see what happened!

Knaak does an excellent job of writing a "history" of WoW, while also putting together an outstanding story.
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