Stormwind.
When Baros Alexston and Edwin Vancleef were hired to the job, both men were beyond humbled. This was to be humanity’s safe haven, a cradle from which the remnants of their civilization could be birthed anew…or at least safeguarded.
They filled a valley with towering houses and fast flowing canals - ever-flowing fresh water from the great northern mountains. The city would never thirst, and it would never hunger - farmland was set aside at the foot of the mountains, where the land was fertile and soft. Massive walls were built to ensure its safety from any future invader, whether they be troll, orc, gnoll…or otherwise.
When it was finished, it was a city of alabaster stone and shining colored tile. Mosiacs lined the walls of the great walls, and the statues of alliance heroes lined the guarded causeway to the city’s entrance. Their great structures soaring into the air with heights known only to the elves showed progress and stature. It was glorious.
And it was short lived. Edwin left after his guild was refused pay for their outstanding work, and with catastrophe seemingly always on the horizon, Baros was forced to make hard choices.
The factories in Ironforge weren’t enough - they needed more plate, better weapons, more, more…
Of course, things might’ve been different had the draenei offered aid, but…despite his beseechments, they wouldn’t interfere in the cultures of Azeroth. They had tried on Draenor, and paid the price - and so Baros did what he could.
Gnomish resourcefulness helped build the great canal-factories - great smoking beasts of dwarvish design that hung over the waterways like matte-black spiders, with eyes made of orange lanterns and fangs made of smoke. The water slowly began to turn brown - and then black, with ash. A layer of smoke hung over the great city - the fog of war.
Then Deathwing.
And suddenly it was like Baros was back to square one. The great walls had been sundered, and enemies were at their doorstep. His people were in disarray, his city was compromised - there was no hope -
Until he was paired with a group of Gilnean architects, under the command of a general Thorne. With her encouragement and strict scheduling, Baros was not only able to heal stormwind…he improved it.
The gilneans lived in isolation for decades, without import or export. They knew how to make the best of a bad situation, and for stormwind, they took all they had learned and applied it in months.
The city of alabaster stone became a city that could withstand anything. Great gates climbed the pass leading to the city, towering above it. The greymane wall was paltry compared to this. It was impossibly thick, with parts of it hewn from the mountains itself.
Swooping down from the great gate, the valley of heroes had been enclosed within its support structure, leading it to look almost like a cathedral of alliance sacrifice.
Newer statues had been put in place in the name of the deceased - Rhonin, Kinndy Sparkshine, and monuments to the elves and gilneas, in honor of lost homes.
Once you step through this cathedral of nobility, you enter the grand square - a circular park surrounded by stalls hawking goods, and in the center, a grand statue of Varian Wrynn stands with his wife, Tiffin. They’re carved looking out to sea, holding a small Anduin. This chapter of the city rises high into the sky, with layers and layers of tunnels and bridges between its floors. Orange lamps shine brightly on grey stone and blue tile, and this once dingy city feels…clean. Safe.
Home.