"First Mate! Unidentified vessel spotted southeast!"
With the lookout's shout, the previously somewhat dull deck immediately became "lively."
The First Mate of the Sea Carriage immediately walked to the bridge, pulled out his telescope, and looked in the direction indicated by the lookout. When he clearly saw the other party's flag, his expression instantly turned serious. He shouted loudly, "It's those green-skinned orcs' ships! Notify everyone, prepare for battle!"
He lowered his telescope and pulled over a sailor, "Jack! Go inform the Captain, tell him to quickly call the Naval Commander!"
"What we are doing is too risky, Warchief!" Varok Saurfang looked at Thrall, who was bending over to examine the sea chart, his tone urgent, "If the Alliance has even the slightest hostility towards us, I fear we will all be buried at sea!"
Along the way, Saurfang had been explaining the pros and cons to Thrall. He was very much against this reckless action, not because he was afraid of death, but because he felt Thrall should not be on the ship.
The New Horde was still very weak, and they were surrounded by Alliance forces. Although the Tauren had no particular hostility towards them and even showed considerable friendliness, the Humans and Night Elves had no good impression of them.
—The New Horde, composed of orcs, Trolls, and some Goblins, openly running into Alliance territory was no different from seeking death!
Even if Thrall decided to undertake this adventurous "diplomatic mission," Saurfang felt it shouldn't be in the Blasted Lands, at least Thrall shouldn't come along. He, or Vol'jin, could replace Thrall!
But this time, Thrall had Vol'jin temporarily manage Orgrimmar, choosing to personally cross the sea by ship to the Blasted Lands to negotiate with the Alliance expeditionary force.
"Saurfang, my old friend, how many ships do we have?" Thrall was not as anxious as Saurfang, but instead remarkably calm.
Saurfang was puzzled but still answered truthfully, "Three."
"And how many people do we have?" Thrall asked again.
"One hundred Kor'kron elite, five shamans, and the rest are temporarily recruited Goblin sailors."
Saurfang sighed—due to the Horde's past actions, they could be said to be infamous on Azeroth. Originally, this was only the case in the Eastern Kingdoms, but after coming to Kalimdor, some reckless actions made their surrounding neighbors also have no good impression of them.
However, that was a desperate measure for the orcs to survive. The only places where large quantities of timber could be obtained were Ashenvale, Stonetalon Mountains, and Azshara. Ashenvale was much closer, and the timber quality was better. If they didn't want Orgrimmar to take decades to build, they could only obtain resources from Ashenvale.
As for Azshara, it was full of fierce beasts and ancient ghosts, and the current Horde simply couldn't spare too many people to protect the lumbering Peons.
But unexpectedly, the Night Elves turned out to be environmental ambassadors. The orcs' unrestrained logging in Ashenvale angered these natives, and both sides paid a heavy price for it. If it weren't for the sudden invasion of the Burning Legion, which eased the conflict between the two sides, their contradictions would probably only intensify.
Errors in various links meant that the New Horde could only be considered to have just developed until today, and their only ally in this new homeland was Vol'jin and his Dark Spear Tribe.
The ships they used for this voyage were all temporarily bought from Goblins at a high price, and even the sailors were hired through Goblins—and in order not to alert Theramore and its surrounding Alliance fleet, they chose to streamline their personnel, bringing only a small number of elites to ensure the Warchief's safety.
"We only have three ships, and counting you and me, there are just over a hundred warriors who can fight. And how many ships and people do you think the Alliance has?" Thrall rolled up the sea chart and put it in a basket nearby, then pulled out an old map and spread it out.
Thinking of Kul Tiras's formidable and dreaded vast fleet, Saurfang also shook his head, "Hundreds of warships? Or more, and seasoned old Naval Commanders are countless."
"They won't see us as a threat—although Daelin, that Naval Commander, probably hates us to the bone, the Alliance obviously isn't just his word, and if the Warchief of the Horde dies at sea, the Alliance will face retaliation from the Horde." Thrall slowly said, "The Horde's retaliation might not be much to the Alliance, but precisely because they are powerful, they don't want to provoke an opponent who isn't afraid of death and disregards costs, because it's not worth it for them."
Saurfang was speechless about this. Indeed, the Alliance's current strength was far beyond what the Horde could compare to, but precisely because of this, they certainly wouldn't want the New Horde, which had nothing to lose, to launch various harassments against them because of a "diplomatic incident."
"And if only you came, a Grand Warlord of the Horde, the Alliance would probably immediately consider this a military provocation, capturing you or even killing you directly, which would be insignificant compared to the impact and risk of killing me." As an Orc raised and educated by humans, Thrall understood this human logic very well, "Only I or Vol'jin can handle this diplomacy, and as for why Vol'jin isn't coming, I shouldn't need to explain. So, forgive my risk-taking, old friend, this is the only way."
Saurfang pondered for a long time, only able to let out a heavy sigh—the reason for not letting Vol'jin come was simple: this was a matter for the orcs. If Thrall were to let Vol'jin bear this responsibility for him, he wouldn't be the Warchief of the Horde.
And just as their conversation was about to end, a small green figure, holding a captain's hat that was almost half his height, rushed in frantically, saying in a panic, "We're surrounded, surrounded by the Kul Tiras Navy!"
Anyone who has drifted on the high seas for years, upon encountering Kul Tiras's Invincible fleet, would only be left with fear.
Thrall immediately walked onto the deck with Saurfang. Around them were grim-faced, fully armed Kor'kron elite ready for battle, and surrounding the Horde's three "petite" ships were magnificent battleships flying green anchor flags.
And the most prominent one among them was Daelin Proudmoore's flagship—the Sea King's Authority!
Facing such an oppressive presence, Saurfang's hand unconsciously tightened around his battle axe. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, "Warchief?"
"Let me do it." Thrall patted his old friend's shoulder, then communicated with the elemental forces, amplifying his voice countless times with the power of tides and storms, spreading it all around.
"I am Thrall, Warchief of the Horde! We mean no harm, we are here to negotiate!"
Thrall's shout in Common echoed all around, and all Kul Tiras ships could hear his call.
Daelin held his telescope, looking at Thrall, who had shouted. He narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.
"Naval Commander, should we open fire?" First Mate Cyrus asked Daelin.
After a moment of thought, Daelin waved his hand, "Just have everyone on alert. The Tidesages have confirmed there are only these three Horde ships nearby. Let's see what this Warchief wants to discuss."
Cyrus looked at his captain, somewhat incredulous that he would give up attacking the orcs' ships, but since Daelin had given the order, he would obey Daelin's command.
At this time, Jaina, who was utterly swamped with various chaotic matters in Hellfire Peninsula, received an urgent magical letter that made her even more exasperated.
The sender was her father, and the letter mentioned that he had captured the Horde's Warchief.
When Jaina saw the first few sentences, she nearly lost control of the surrounding magic. After quickly calming her magic and preventing the documents she was handling from turning into trash, Jaina continued to read the rest of the content, praying that the worst-case scenario wouldn't happen.
Jaina was well aware of her father's hatred for orcs. She almost thought her father had directly led people into Orgrimmar to kidnap Thrall. Fortunately, the content later in the letter eased Jaina's worried mind.
...
"You're saying the Horde's Warchief came to negotiate with the Alliance, then ran squarely into Daelin, and has now been apprehended?" Bolvar looked at Jaina with a shocked expression; just listening to Jaina's description, he could already imagine the severe consequences this incident might cause.
If Daelin couldn't control himself and cut down Thrall with his blade, those orcs who had just settled down in Orgrimmar would probably pour out like mad, like a disturbed hornet's nest. The Alliance certainly had vast resources, but those who had nothing feared nothing. The orcs had nothing to lose, and the Alliance was unwilling to engage in a meaningless attrition war with them.
Not only would the Alliance gain no benefits from it, but it would also expend effort dealing with these frenzied orcs. Even the most incompetent politician wouldn't undertake such a guaranteed loss.
However, if Daelin acted impulsively, there was nothing they could do, as Daelin had indeed lost his son because of these orcs. If he cut down the orcs, they would have nothing to say.
"I'm just worried that something like this will happen." Jaina naturally shared Bolvar's concerns, and she also felt a headache now.
Bolvar paced back and forth in the command room with his hands behind his back. He suddenly looked up and said, "What do the other leaders think?"
"Apart from me, Dalaran doesn't care about any of this; they're all trying to deal with the Hellfire Citadel warlocks. Arthas isn't here temporarily, and the other high-ranking officials of Lordaeron are all on the front lines, and you wouldn't expect Uther and them to solve this problem, would you... Lady Shandris said she doesn't handle diplomatic issues. Darius stated he couldn't persuade Daelin. The Runetotems said they respect Daelin's decision. As for Lady Sylvanas, what attitude do you think she'd have?"
Jaina listed all the leaders who had a say in this expedition. The more she listed, the uglier Bolvar's expression became. He understood that these guys meant: this is a private matter for the Proudmoore family; they don't want to interfere and can't, so let Lady Proudmoore and the temporary supreme commander of this coalition—Bolvar—deal with it!
Bolvar's face darkened, "I also really want to cut down the Horde's Warchief right now; perhaps it would save a lot of trouble."
"Bolvar, you know we can't do that…" Jaina said helplessly, "The Horde's Warchief cannot die, at least not because of my father's decision."
The Grand Duke of Stormwind almost gritted his teeth, spitting out a sentence, "These idiotic orcs, did they have to come to negotiate through the waters Daelin is responsible for? They could have sailed directly into Stormwind's harbor, which would be better than rushing into the Kul Tiras fleet's patrol range!"
Jaina secretly scoffed at the words: Sailing into Stormwind's harbor would probably be worse, wouldn't it? Stormwind was completely overrun once because of the orcs! Can you guarantee that Varian wouldn't kidnap Thrall?
Bolvar fumed for a long time, but ultimately had to concede. He looked at Jaina and said weakly, "Could I trouble you to go back, Jaina? I'm afraid no one else is more suitable to handle this matter than you."
"I thought so too, but I still have a lot of unfinished business here. The offensive against Hellfire Citadel is at a critical juncture."
"Temporarily hand it over to me then; you hurry back! I don't want Daelin to do anything irrational!"
Bolvar could only compromise. It seemed he would have to further reduce his sleep time—Light, he had only been able to sleep no more than four hours a day recently, and now it would probably be only two hours a day!
Watching Jaina open a portal directly from the command room and leave, Bolvar collapsed into his chair, looking at the mountain of documents in front of him, and his vision went black: Can this supreme command be given to someone else?!
...
Upon returning to Honor Hold, Jaina had just walked out of the mage tower when she ran into Daelin's messenger.
"Your Highness, the Naval Commander has gone to Stormwind. He asked me to stay here and inform you."
"Stormwind? Alright, I'm going now, thank you." Jaina didn't have time to think and casually opened a portal to the Stormwind mage tower. Before leaving, she didn't forget to ask, "Did my father leave any other message?"
The messenger nodded, "The Naval Commander hopes you can reach Stormwind Keep as soon as possible, or you'll miss the good show."
"A good show?!" Jaina's voice rose a full octave. She plunged directly into the portal, as frantic as a fire mage who had accidentally set his own robes on fire.
After emerging from the mage tower in Stormwind, Jaina didn't even have time to greet the mages who saluted her, disappearing instantly with successive blinks.
"Was that Lady Proudmoore just now?"
A mage apprentice, holding a large pile of miscellaneous items, looked at Jaina's lingering afterimage and asked his classmate beside him in a somewhat dazed manner.
"Seems like it. She looked very anxious. Is it something from the expeditionary force?—It really is a turbulent time lately. I hope everything goes well on the front lines and with the teachers."
"I, on the other hand, hope the teachers come back later—"
"I recorded it. I'll help you tell the teachers."
"No, wait, I didn't say anything!"
The playful bickering of two young apprentices was a common sight in the mage tower of Stormwind. Normally, Jaina might have even stepped forward to tease them a bit; she loved interacting with these young apprentices. They were young, lively, and more comfortable to be around than those rigid old scholars.
But at the moment, she didn't have any extra time to think about such things. When her teleportation magic stopped, she had already appeared in the garden of Stormwind Keep.
"Aunt Jaina?"
A tender voice sounded. Jaina looked in the direction of the voice and found little Anduin looking at her with wide, puzzled eyes.
"Little Anduin, I'm sorry I appeared here without a greeting—where's your father? I have something urgent to discuss with him." Jaina didn't care about etiquette or rules. She knelt in front of Anduin and asked in as calm a tone as possible.
"Father is in the reception room. Do you need me to have someone take you there?"
"That would be wonderful, thank you, Anduin."
"Respected King of Stormwind, and Naval Commander of Kul Tiras, I assure you once again that the New Horde is completely different from the Old Horde that was controlled by demon blood. We come with good intentions—we proved ourselves at Mount Hyjal, and perhaps that is still not enough, but I still want to say that the Burning Legion is our common enemy."
"I'd rather believe everything I've seen and experienced than your one or two explanations."
Varian, who had been pacing back and forth, stopped and turned to stare at Thrall, trying to find some flaw in the new Warchief of the Horde, but the other party was clearly different from any Orc he had ever encountered. His demeanor made Varian feel even more like he was facing a… human?
Daelin, leaning back in his chair, had the brim of his naval cap pulled low, obscuring most of his expression, leaving Thrall unsure of what the Naval Commander, who had always harbored strong animosity towards orcs, was thinking. But he could only do his best to gain the Alliance's trust, temporarily setting aside any potential risks.
Varian pressed his hands on the wooden table, his voice low and full of anger, "Twenty years ago, it was your people who killed my father, my soldiers, my people, and burned our city to the ground. Now you come under the guise of diplomacy, wanting me to let go of your people and your compatriots?"
Thrall's right hand, hidden under the wooden table, instantly clenched after hearing Varian's words, but he quickly relaxed it again. Although Varian had no good feelings for him and the New Horde, the fact that he hadn't been directly thrown out or detained on the spot indicated that there was still room for discussion.
"I… I have nothing to defend myself with. We did indeed kill many innocent lives, even though it was Gul'dan and the Burning Legion's lies that deceived my compatriots. But we are willing to bear the responsibility and pay the price for it," Thrall sighed, "My purpose in coming today is to prevent such things from happening again. I can avoid conflicts between the Alliance Expeditionary Force and the orcs of Draenor, avoiding many unnecessary sacrifices and bloodshed."
"Not only Orc blood is blood, green-skin."
Daelin, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke his first words, "You and your three crude sailboats should have been talking to seaweed. I gave you a chance to speak, but not to talk nonsense. The situation in Draenor is well-known; it's a wasteland. Who knows how many of your compatriots haven't become monsters with their brains burned by fel? If you ask me, all of you…"
Before Daelin could finish his sentence, a guard walked up to him and Varian, whispering, "Lady Proudmoore has arrived."
"Varian, Father, I apologize for being late." Jaina walked in, staff in hand, dusty and disheveled, still carrying the pungent smell of sulfur from Hellfire Peninsula.
"My daughter, come see your father's trophy—an Orc Chieftain!" Daelin stood up, opening his arms to welcome his daughter, and Varian also nodded in greeting to Jaina.
Jaina gently embraced Daelin, whispering in his ear, "Dad, how did you catch Thrall?"
"At sea. This Warchief and his generals were trying to break through our defenses with three ridiculous small boats, and we caught them red-handed." Facing his daughter, a slight smile appeared on Daelin's stern face, but it quickly faded.
"Lady Proudmoore." Thrall stood up and greeted Jaina with an Orc custom, "The last time we met was at Mount Hyjal."
"You shouldn't appear on Alliance lands without prior notice, Thrall." Jaina said, half-serious, half-helplessly. Daelin's letter probably mentioned Thrall's intentions. "My father not sinking your ships was his greatest mercy."
If it weren't for the concern of escalating conflicts between the Alliance and the Horde during this particular period, Jaina would have also thought it better for her father to just sink Thrall and his ships.
"Lady, I come with good intentions. I just hope I can help my compatriots still in Draenor relocate to Orgrimmar. Most of them are elderly, weak, women, and children, who have not participated in any wars against Azeroth." Thrall, seeing Jaina, quickly stated his request. Perhaps this female mage would be easier to talk to than Daelin and Varian.
Upon hearing this, Jaina frowned. Thrall's request seemed very simple and reasonable, but in the eyes of most Alliance members, it became unreasonable.
Did the orcs kill fewer Alliance soldiers and their families during their invasion of Azeroth? Those soldiers' families and other residents also did not participate in the war, but why were they brutally murdered?
"Your idea is too naive, Chieftain." Jaina shook her head after thinking, "I know you became Chieftain after the Old Horde's demise, and you probably haven't experienced those terrible wars. As a front-line commander, I can only assure you that Alliance soldiers will not actively attack those Orc villages, but if they attack us in return… you know."
Even hearing the expected answer, Thrall couldn't help but feel a little frustrated, but he still didn't give up his last glimmer of hope, "Then… can the Horde use the Dark Portal to Draenor—at least I can send people to prevent them from clashing with the Alliance."
Thrall understood the traditions and customs of the orcs. If the Alliance Expeditionary Force clashed with the remaining clans in Draenor, most Orc clans would likely not choose to flee, even if it meant certain defeat, they would probably choose their final glory.
Jaina looked at Varian and Daelin, finding that they suddenly and tacitly looked away, clearly preparing to let her decide.
This couldn't help but give her a headache. She had thought she was coming to persuade her father not to do something foolish, but it seemed they had conspired to make her play the bad cop.
But the problem was, if the Horde were allowed to pass through the Dark Portal, it would essentially be allowing them to take people away, which would contradict what she had just said…
After a moment of thought, Jaina could only say, "I will inform the command at the Dark Portal front line in advance that the Horde can send small teams to notify the local Orc clans, but please note, your people cannot return to Azeroth through the Dark Portal again, otherwise, you will bear the consequences."
"The Elemental Spirits will also admire your mercy, Lady. I will remember this favor." Thrall let out a long breath. This outcome was already much better than he had anticipated before coming.
After Thrall left, the Stormwind Royal Guards closed the door to the reception hall, leaving only Varian, Daelin, and Jaina. The oppressive atmosphere in the hall also vanished.
Jaina sat on the sofa, leaning on her staff, looking at her father with considerable helplessness, "Dad, you could have just driven Thrall's ships away, not giving him this chance to negotiate. Why did you have to create such trouble? Oh my goodness, I must be crazy to agree to some of Thrall's requests. I don't even know how to tell the commander at the Dark Portal front line!"
"Heh heh, I actually think you did quite well, didn't she, Varian." Daelin, facing his daughter's complaints, was instead cheerful.
"It seems we both put enough pressure on that Warchief so he wouldn't make more excessive demands." Varian's fierce demeanor had also completely disappeared. "However, the New Horde is poor and has nothing presentable. His only bargaining chip with us are those orcs in Draenor."
Jaina blinked, scanning back and forth between Varian and Daelin. Her lips parted slightly, "You… you had it all planned out?"
"We discussed this together long before Arthas left." Varian nodded, "We both believe that Thrall, this new Warchief, is not like Blackhand. He won't abandon those Orc clans. Knowing that we were venturing to Draenor, he would definitely find an opportunity to come and discuss this with us."
"We want to reduce unnecessary losses in Draenor, and Thrall hopes to prevent his compatriots from clashing with us," Daelin explained slowly to Jaina, stroking the hilt of his saber, "Although I hate those orcs very much and wish they would die, if we can avoid losing our soldiers and have them help us fight the Burning Legion, then that's even better—Jaina, you are a mage, haven't you thought about the difference between the Dark Portal becoming a one-way street and not letting them through at all?"
"If it's completely forbidden, the orcs might act irrationally because of it, but if they are only allowed to pass through and not return, they will certainly try to open a portal there to Orgrimmar." Jaina had naturally considered this possibility, which was why she hesitated with her decision, "But why did it have to be me who made the decision…?"
"Jaina, your city is in Dustwallow Marsh, neighboring the New Horde. You need to maintain good relations with the current masters of the Horde. Moreover, we need a stepping stone for the relationship between the two. No other high-ranking Alliance official is suitable for dealing with orcs, because most of them came out of that war-torn era." Daelin said earnestly. In this world, besides his family, he would probably find it difficult to converse with anyone else with such patience.
Jaina quietly listened to her father, and looking at his somewhat aged face, she sighed, "Dad, I understand, but…"
"You don't have to worry about me. Seeing you and Tandred grow up day by day, I also know I can no longer dwell in the past… Even if every single Orc is killed, then what? Derek still can't come back to me, but that doesn't mean he died for nothing. At least I will make those culprits pay the price."
Daelin explained softly. So many years had passed, and seeing his daughter and second son grow up safely, becoming pillars of a nation and an Alliance, had brought him some measure of relief.
As for the clan that caused his son's tragic death, he would send them to Hellfire one day.
Varian, seeing Daelin and Jaina, also felt a little melancholic. He suddenly missed his own father, and the man who had always been by his side, playing both father and teacher.
"Lothar…"