The Legend of Azeroth:
Long ago, like every other man, The Lord of Men was a boy. He was born in a small town of Arém, which is now one of the Five Great Cities. One day, an old by by the name of Ares arrived. He was seeking a disciple, a child to receive the blessing of War and Order, from the god of wars Ares and Athena. There was one requirement. The child had to be chosen, born on the exact second of when the last Blessing-Holder has died. Ares has travelled long and far, seeking the one to continue the eternal legacy. He found Azeroth, five years old, already hunting for rabbits using a primitive slingshot. He studies the boy a little. A familiar glow emerged from the boy. Ares exclaimed to himself. This was sign sent by the gods.
Soon, Ares had transferred the legacy to Azeroth at the age of 15. This blessing planted the idea of complete world peace and order, which drove Azeroth to leave his hometown to venture into the large world. He travelled, solving disputes whenever he saw them. It was after a year that he had a group of loyal followers, all determined to follow their leader.
Azeroth had grown old. He was 50, long beyond his prime. His blessing was used, and all men had allied together in a great empire never seen before. However, a plague was spreading. It was transmitted by air, and already half the population are dead. a fourth have ran to find haven in other countries, while the rest are also doomed to die. Azeroth couldn't watch on. He walked outside.
"By the gods above, high in their thrones, Zues, the Thunder-Bringer, King of King, Ruler of The Heavens, Dianta, Queen of Light, The Undying Hope, Save my people from this plague!"
Then Azeroth crumpled onto the ground. He was dead. The PLague had struck him down too. However, the gods have heard his plea. In a blinding flash of light, the remaining people were healed. They recorded the lifetime of Azeroth in scripture, and buried him in The Skeleton of The Ancients, where we are living right now.