Architecture is a response to a tapestry of needs and wants, all connected and feeding into one another. Architectural styles can arise in response to cultural movements, environmental constraints, resource availability, function, - the list goes on.
I love it. I love designing, researching, building - it’s the field I’m trying desperately to be in -
And it’s something I love marrying with WoW.
There’s a good deal of neat architectural choices in WoW - some driven by a need to build a recognizable identity for its cultures, and others (rarely) are given some good, careful thought beyond some identifying iconography.
One of the first things I think of when I see a building is where did it come from? where was the timber, the clay for the bricks, the ore for the steel, sourced? Was it local? Nationally sourced? Imported? All of it gives a tell for the building’s, and thus it’s commissioner’s, budget. That, combined with its function, tells you more about who has the money in that society, or the most power.
Stormwind’s biggest and most elaborate buildings are Stormwind Keep, the seat of the king and his court, The Cathedral of Light, the religious center for the Church of the Light, followed shortly by the Stockades, the city’s prison (lower levels) and barracks (upper levels).
No other buildings in the city get the same attention and resources, and from this we can tell that the nation’s power lies in the monarchy, the church, and the military respectively - or at least it did when it was constructed.
You can reverse engineer this line of thinking to build cities too. Let’s take one that I can’t and won’t stop talking about - Alterac.
But, before I jump into my silly lil diatribe, what would you like to see given this depth?
Alterac’s power lay in its monarchy, its merchants, and its army - the Light didn’t take hold with the mountain folk. They controlled the fastest trade route between Southern and Northern EK, and as such I imagine you would have some very, very well kept roads with frequent stations to tax travelers, keep guards, and check inventory. Due to the city’s size (and the syndicate’s reaction to their fall) we can assume that wealth was widespread. Buildings made out of imported materials, marble towers gilded with metals from Khaz’Modan and sprawling parks with enchanted trees from Quel’Thalas that could withstand the harsh temperatures. (am I extrapolating? Yes! Does any of this contradict the source material? Not as far as I know!)
The homes themselves would need to be built to protect their citizens from the climate - a near endless winter with snow and harsh winds. Wall could consist of thick layers of stone as an exterior layer (readily available in the mountains, insulated with a cloth or fiber layer and paneling. Roofs would need to be sloped and reinforced to handle snow loads, or sharply peaked to avoid that problem altogether. Windows would be smaller in order to conserve heat for less wealthy families - still royalty in comparison to your average Stormwind citizen.
For the wealthiest of the wealthy, they could use an immense amount of glass. As light would be a luxury, they could go overboard, with wondrous galleries of windows two to three stories tall, and massive hearths to heat the rooms which - by the way, would bleed heat like a sieve.
In terms of iconography, the kingdom of Alterac venerated the local hawks. Survivors and scavengers, just like them. Windows could be pointed at the top, and curved outwards like an abstracted open beak. Columns could end in abstracted talons and claws, roofs could be adorned with engravings of feathers and abstract depictions of the wind - the possibilities are endless.
Key buildings for this city would be the palace of King Perenolde, overlooking Lordamere lake, the merchant’s center close to the front gates of the city, and the military academy sitting inbetween the two. Each of these would embody both the function and icons related to the pillar of society they stood for - statues of birds carrying goods and game for the merchants, depictions of successful hunts and battles for the army, and statues of past Alteracian monarchs lining the palace.
A city of trade is also, however, a city of knowledge. Libraries, while not as important as the merchants, military, or royalty, would still be present, and meticulously kept. Everyone, from the cooks and waste workers to the senators and artisans, would have access and be encouraged to constantly improve their knowledge and skills.
All of this explanation goes on to help us build what this culture looks like after it’s death. We know that, for a brief period, it was co-occupied by the Horde during the second war. This was however, a mobile army, and while we can expect the remnants of temporary structures, we can’t expect anything too permanent. The aftermath of the second war had the kingdom stormed by the forces of Lordaeron and Strom, and had much of its wealth and power looted. We can assume that most gilding in reach of soldiers was torn off and taken.
Cold weather structures are strong - but they require upkeep, and upkeep requires paid labor. Without proper care, delicate aspects of Alteraci architecture would fall into disrepair. Windows broken, wood sheathing rotting, snow piling into homes. As the decline continued, most Alteraci left, or joined the growing group of nomadic bandits known as the syndicate. The city and the nation as a whole were abandoned.
Some natural disasters have come and gone - the cataclysm and the wound - the building that may have taken it hardest would have been the palace, seated on the edge of the plateau the city stood upon. Windows shattered, and the more lofty towers fallen and crushing anything in their path.
What I want to see, and what I’m trying to model in my spare time, is this:
As you walk through Alterac pass, you spot a crumbling tower in the distance. As you get closer to realize you had misjudged its size - it soars into the sky. The walls are sleek and featureless, and though it may lay far from its home, you can see that the top of the building was once a sharp spire adorned with sculpted eagle feathers. There is a road to your left, wide and flat. The cobblestones you can see below the snow are a soft blue marbled with streaks of alabaster. You decide to follow it.
Walls line the road, and every now and then an ornate lamp post breaks up the scenery. They haven’t been lit in ages. Gradually, the cliffs at your side open up and you turn a corner - and you see it.
Climbing the side of one of Alterac’s great peaks is a city that sweeps across a wide plateau. The walls around it are tall, but you can still spot soaring spires and bridges, clawing at the night sky like bony fingers. In the moonlight you can make out glints of pale, unhealthy golden filigree dancing into the sky.
The great front gate is thrown open before you - one door sags against the wall, the other charred. Ahead, a grand highway, walled by dissipated empty homes, leads all the way towards what seems to be a mansion carved from stone and glass. The wind howls - and you can swear that over the noise of snow and storm -
You can hear voices.
