In the ages past, before beings and wildfolk crossed the lands of Alvaria, and seas flowed freely, supplying the plants, as of yet still sprouting and furrowing for rootholds. There were 9 Elder Gods. The 1 supreme god, who had dominion of the Universe containing Alvaria, was known to his followers as Onuris. Under him served the 8 gods. They were forged of the elements made by Onuris. Of these, shiva, goddess of the polar regions of Alvaria, Ifrit, god of Alvaria's fire, Leviathan, god of the waters of the world, Alexander, god of the heavens, and all that is holy, Diablos, god of the underworld and all that is dark in the universe, Ramuh, god of the storms, Garuda, the god of the winds that blow over Alvaria's land, and Titan, god of the earth that Alvaria finds its holdfast, held dominion and law under Onuris himself.

As the elder gods began to create Alvaria, Diablos secretly crafted devices to take reign of the lands, for he coveted them with unspeakable greed. This would install his role as the new ruler of the Elder Gods. Diablos unrelentingly dedicated eras of time to this task, instead of performing his assigned duties. While Titan began constructing the earthen lands, Leviathan supplying Alvaria with it's oceans, Garuda carrying the dirt for Titan, and calling upon the four winds as guides. Ramuh bringing lightning to the lands. Ifrit bringing upon the first fires and heat, Shiva bringing ice and the cold weather. Alexander meanwhile prepared the heavens for their first creations to reside after an amiable existence.

Onuris had suspected that Diablos was trying to overthrow the other gods, but because they were all intertwined in fates, he cast away the foolish thought. Whereas he should’ve banished the vile Diablos before a new factor could be introduced to Alvaria: chaos.

After the Gods finished the creation of Alvaria, they set out to begin the construction of its inhibitors: mankind, the beasts of the woods, and the crafted elves, among with the stout dwarves. Onuris, alone, created the race of men, elves, and dwarves. Yet the other elder gods brought about the creation of the wild beasts that roamed the land. Diablos, shirking his assigned duties, took pure, unmolded matter allotted him, and from it forged a race so vile, that the only word close enough to describe them was demonic. These demons of Diablos’ make would later deal a vast amount of the fate accumulated by the demise of the gods. A great time later the dominion of Alvaria was complete. In it resided the beings in peace and harmony with one another (save the demons, which as of late had been a secret), but after 1,000 years of peace things took a change for the worse.

Diablos, without the other gods’ consent or knowledge had beckoned all his demons to the underworld for a last congregation. Here the plans to bring about the ends of an age of prosperity were spawned. Diablos himself chose the surest and most promising of his devil-spawn to become Demon Generals, and assigned them hordes of their kin to lead in slaughter. The gods met the onslaught, each with a protective army of their most beloved inhabitants, but all fell asunder to the unparalleled might of the demons. The first to fall was Shiva, even with her icy wards and fortifications. Then Ifrit, surrounded by pillars of living flame, was vanquished. These were the weakest of the nine gods and they fell quickly, but this marked the beginning of a revolution, the dawn of chaos. Next to fall was Leviathan, even surrounded by his Mergaurd Leviathan’s fortifications proved insufficient, and the fabled city of Atlantis, his dominion, sank beneath the murky depths, n’er to rise again till the return of the mighty gods. Next Ramuh was beckoned to a meeting with Diablos, he had always been quick to temper and lustful of power, but despite Diablos’ most corrupt and convincing offers Ramuh refused to submit and aid the forces of darkness in the plight. In his rage Diablos slew the lightning god under the signs of truce, a foul symbol. Titan, who was one of the strongest gods fell next in his cavernous strongholds. Because of this the dwarves, who were his beloved creatures, fled deep underground, never to see light again for many ages. Diablos made the next demolition of an elder god his top prerogative, for Alexander, the god of light and holiness was his personal archenemies. Diablo, then crafted the realm into a place of darkness and corruption.

Onuris, the last remaining god that fought for the better of the world, grew weaker as each of his creations fell usunder to the god of chaos, Diablos. Realizing his futility in a battle in current ages he saw only one alternative. Using the last of his strength Onuris summoned, to him the vanquished forces of the 8 fallen elder gods. Onuris was barely alive, but he spent half of his strength now allotted to explain to the newly resurrected gods of a secret power they possessed. It would seem that if eight of the nine gods can band together and make the final sacrifice then they can, in return for their lives, ensnare and trap the other god till a soul breaks the seal. Alone we will still perish as we have before, but at least this way our sacrifice will amount to something. Thus the fates of the nine elder gods were decided. With the combined efforts of all the gods, they sealed away Diablos within a tomb in the Polar Regions. Without a driving force the demon army quickly receded and succumbed to the remaining races of good: Elves, men, dragons, and the spirits of the wood. Afterwards an alliance was formed between the races to mark an everlasting friendship. Sadly there have always been a select few whom Diablos left his mark upon, these corrupt led the races apart from each other to bitter bigotry, though that is another tale, as of yet untold…

This battle raged on for 200 years. Yet was ended in a mere instant. Diablos was locked away in the most northern part of the world, Northrend. Sealed away in a tomb with a protective ward so only one of the original creations of the good elder gods could open it and remove the Diablos blade, where Diablos’ soul was eternally trapped. Years later it was forgotten, save a few guardians and onlookers. Yet still it stood, with menacing gates it remained the Tomb of Diablos. He was sealed away for five thousand years till the day had come for him to be free again. The only way he could be set free, is if the Diablos Blade came into the hands of a truly evil man, who then Diablos would be able to possess and revive himself taking control of the possessed body.

That pour soul was a man by the name of Algamon. He had read in history books of the sealing away of Diablos, and his heart, black as night, lusted for unspeakable power. His hatred for mankind was deeper than the seas themselves. It took Algamon 64 days to reach Northrend, upon finding the tomb at the very center of the frozen island. He held out one of his history books and began reciting the incantation, set by the eight elder gods, which would open the Tomb of Diablos, thus he began the descent inward to claim the Diablos Blade, therefore the power of Diablos himself.

He journeyed deep into the heart of the Tomb. Floor after floor, he walked deeper and deeper within the tomb's catacombs. Bringing Algamon closer to Diablos’ resting place and farther from sanity. As Algamon got closer Diablos called out to him. "Algamon...Algamon...come. Set me free, for you are the only one who can. I am bound by the gods to this tomb, but once you posess my sword. We will rule the world together." With those words repeating themselves throughout Algamon's mind. His lust for power became greater.

After a verbose walk, Algamon came upon the resting-place of Diablos. There, upon a throne, a dark aura lay, its tendrils beckoning to Algamon. "Algamon, you have made it. Take my sword and be endowed with my power." Algamon found the tainted blade lying at the foot of the throne. It sparkled transparent and black as night, with two flaming crossgaurds, its hilt of dragon hide. The blade looked almost transparent as a swirling mass of red and black light moved within the blade.

Algamon claimed the blade. Immediately he felt a surge of energy course throughout his body, rushing through his veins. Suddenly the tomb became silent, his heart, thumped. Louder and louder it beat as Algamon began to get a headache. Suddenly his body ached, and writhed through him like a thousand white-hot knives forever stabbing in the darkness.

"Diablos, you bastard… What have you done to me?!? You tricked me…” Algamon kneeled over and let out an inhumane yell of torture. “argh!"

"I did nothing of the sort. You wanted power and you're getting it. But..."

"But what??" screeched Algamon before doubling over again under the pressure.

"There is one thing that must be done for us to combine our powers. I MUST have control of your body!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" With that, Algamon thudded loudly into the ground, losing consciousness. The last thing his mortal shell remembered was seeing was the murky aura over the throne vanishing. It had absorbed itself into Algamon's body. Changing his external appearance drastically.

His skin had become a darkened purple, his hair white as snow. The muscles of his body surged with unbridled power as they had grown over three times the size of Algamon's original muscles. He grew in stature, at least two feet. With the Diablos Blade in hand, Diablos had succeeded in coming back into the mortal realm. Without the other Elder Gods to stop him. He was destined to win. After all, who now had the power to stop him?

"No longer shall I be referred to as Diablos...or Algamon. From now on, all humans and creatures alike, shall know me as Algamon Morte' General of the Diablos Army. With my army and none opposing me, I can finally claim this world as my own."

With that Algamon Morte' journeyed to his treasury, summoning some of his last demon soldiers, that had fled the slaying, to assist him in gaining passage to the mainland. Loading up his warship with his weapons and armor. He set sail for the continent of Dalaran, which was to be his base for the Diablos army.

"Now Onuris. You shall see what you could never do. Take total control of Alvaria without opposition."

With that, our story ends here. Now you, the people of the age, are being called to your part in the struggle against Diablos. The fate now rests solely in your hands, save the realm in which we live!

(Thank Ashron for making a lengthy version of my original. *claps*)