The war in Uldum ended smoothly; the Tol'vir resumed local defense, and Shandris led the Southern Army to camp temporarily along the newly-reclaimed southern coastline, awaiting Andreas" next order.
The fighting in Stormheim left Andreas somewhat puzzled; perhaps Hela, stung by the failure of her assault on the Hall of Origin, had realized Loken had duped her.
Until the Iron Army was torn apart and utterly destroyed, Hela offered no aid whatsoever.
With N'Zoth's caution reasserting itself, the Nightmare host led by Xavius was mauled by the Cenarion Circle and the Green Dragonflight; at its master's bidding the lord of nightmares lowered its banners and quietly withdrew to the deepest reaches of the Dream.
As a precaution, Malfurion and Ysera still dared not leave the Emerald Dream at will, yet the combat-druid forces previously sent in to help were finally freed.
In the Astranaar council hall Andreas collated battle reports from every front, consulted with Fandral and the recently emerged Tyrande, and at last made up his mind.
"Niana, you will go as formal ambassador. Lead the team through the portal to Stormwind City."
Andreas told his young apprentice Niana gravely, "We are willing to join the pincer against the orcs, but by international custom we need the local king's leave to send troops; that task is yours."
"Alfonso."
"Here."
"Inform Prisim that Karazhan needs no further attention; have her remaining scouts shadow and protect the embassy."
When Sargeras devoured the tower's life-force, Prisim's scouts had been decimated for failing to withdraw in time; only a handful waiting in the underground wine-cellars outside the tower for Andreas" next order survived.
With Medivh's death the Redridge Mountains were swept by a vast tide of magic; once-verdant lands turned ashen, and Duskwood was cloaked in perpetual gloom.
Greedy Gul"dan, seeing through Garona's eyes, invaded Medivh's memory, hunting for the location of the Tomb of Sargeras.
The Guardian's death rebounded on him savagely; though he gained the knowledge he sought, Gul"dan—still linked to Medivh's soul—was hurled unconscious by the shock of the death.
Stormwind City had already endured the Horde's first siege; though Lothar's valor drove the orcs back, their main strength remained largely intact.
Gul"dan's sudden coma threw the Shadow Council into chaos; Andreas suspected that a certain Great Chieftain's lieutenant—recently bereft of his closest friend—was already plotting a coup.
Niana had assisted the High Council in statecraft, yet she had never carried out so vital a mission alone, and being singled out made her nervous.
Andreas smiled and stroked her hair. "A fledgling must leave the nest. Your ability is beyond question; what you need is experience in acting on your own."
"I expect you"ll arrive just as the Kingdom of Stormwind begins its evacuation. Stay at King Llane's side as ambassador; Prisim will have local human scouts watch over you. Beware of those lurking in the shadows."
"People in the shadows?" Niana asked blankly. "Do you mean the Old Gods? The Burning Legion?"
Andreas merely smiled. "Find that out for yourself. A friend in need is better than one in plenty. Raise Stormwind's goodwill toward the Night Elf Republic; the favor will be repaid."
...Lothar's seaborne sortie had surprised and scattered the besiegers, but it did not solve Stormwind's deeper plight.
Fortunately the orcs were briefly torn by civil strife, giving King Llane and Lothar a moment's respite.
'so be it..."
Gazing at Medivh's body brought from Karazhan, Llane shook his head in sorrow. "I never guessed Medivh's sudden change was wrought by demons; we failed him."
Khadgar, who had come with Lothar, shook his head. "Your Majesty, do not blame yourself.
"The demon king Sargeras, the Fallen Titan who commands the Burning Legion, overpowered even two Guardians. Even had you known, I fear you could not have saved Medivh."
Llane studied the elderly mage in surprise. "You are...?"
Cursed by Sargeras, Khadgar's once-youthful face had aged in hours; though Medivh had restored his life-force before dying, the visage would stay with him for life.
Khadgar gave a wry smile. "I am Khadgar, Your Majesty. We met only days ago."
"Khadgar..."
Llane's eyes widened. "Your face—how...?"
"A long tale."
Lothar sighed.'sire, we have no time to mourn. The orcs outside may attack again at any moment."
"Regrettably, our remaining strength cannot hold Stormwind,"
Llane nodded heavily; no stranger to war, he had already read the signs.
After a long hesitation he steeled himself.
"Carry my order: send the people to the harbor. Kul Tiras" evacuation ships have arrived."
"Your Majesty..."
From the words Lothar knew Llane had long ago resolved to save his people and surrender the land, and had made arrangements in advance.
"Don"t look like that, Anduin."
Llane clapped his old friend's shoulder with forced cheer. "While our people stand with us, we shall rebuild after the orcs are broken."
"...As you command, Sire."
Llane turned to the dazed Garona, who had been thus since the battle with Medivh.
Compared with orcish brutality, Garona had found greater warmth in kindly Queen Taria; she wished to remain among these strong, gentle humans.
When last Khadgar brought her to the keep she had given King Llane every scrap of orc lore she knew.
Her intelligence proved invaluable; Llane, grateful, granted her request to join the Kingdom of Stormwind without hesitation.
Yet scrutiny was still required, and young Matias—grandson of Parsonia—watched her from the shadows.
Garona's mind, briefly dominated during the fight, bore deep scars; Gul"dan's last order to slay the human king echoed incessantly.
Matias noticed her trembling hand nearing her dagger.
As her fingers closed on the hilt, a strange voice sounded in her mind.
"If you seek true freedom, conquer the darkness within. Resist—overcome!"
"Uh!"
While Llane was asking Garona about her condition, the beautiful half-orc suddenly clutched her head in pain and half-squatted.
"Garona?"
"Your Majesty, be careful!"
Mathias, from the shadows, used Shadowstep to instantly appear behind Llane, then deftly moved in front of him, having just seen a fleeting murderous intent in Garona's eyes.
Everyone, including Khadgar, saw Garona's eyes flickering between a red glow and normal.
"Deep mental suggestion!"
Khadgar's heart sank; he knew how troublesome this evil spell, known as a "bone-marrow maggot," could be, and that those afflicted might be tormented by it for life.
However, Garona's current behavior somewhat exceeded his expectations; people with strong willpower could indeed resist the spell's suggestion to some extent, but Garona, who had previously suffered severe mental trauma, clearly did not possess such conditions.
Yet, the reality was that Garona was still struggling and had not been completely dominated by the suggestion spell.
Lothar drew his Great Royal Sword from his waist, his expression grave as he stared intently at Garona.
Although he was unwilling to strike down a comrade with whom he had just fought a desperate battle, Garona's state made him uneasy; compared to personal honor, he cared more about King Llane's safety.
"Khadgar, what's happening?"
Khadgar loudly warned, "Everyone, don"t act yet. Garona's will is fighting against the mental suggestion in her mind. Don"t provoke her at this moment."
"Ah ah ah!!"
The continuous demonic whispers in her mind drove Garona to near madness, but another gentle voice constantly soothing her was like a clear stream, calming her gradually boiling thoughts.
Her mind slightly recovered, Garona knew she couldn"t stay here any longer, at least not beside Llane until she got rid of the suggestion in her mind.
Under the watchful eyes of the surrounding royal guards, Garona vanished from where she stood, and a flurry of hurried footsteps extended towards the door, soon fading into complete silence.
Mathias let out a sigh of relief, lowering his dagger, and said, "Your Majesty, she has left."
Llane said with a complex expression, "I didn"t expect Garona to be under a spell. If she had been a bit more decisive just now, my life might have been forfeit."
He knew his own situation; Llane had indeed been completely unguarded against Garona earlier, and Mathias" actions were also a beat slow. If Garona had taken the opportunity to strike with her dagger, Llane knew he would have been dead.
"Father…"
Startled by the sudden turn of events, Prince Varian, who was listening by the throne, asked in confusion, "What happened to Sister Garona?"
"Nothing," Llane said with a smile, stroking his son's neatly combed black hair. "I believe Garona will definitely return to us."
"Your Majesty!"
An official dressed in noble attire walked quickly into the fortress with a joyful expression. "Good news! The Night Elf Republic across the sea has sent envoys to our country, and they are willing to send us reinforcements!"
Llane's spirits lifted, but after calculating the time, he smiled wryly and shook his head. "It is indeed good news, but unfortunately, it comes too late."
An army crossing the sea does not arrive in a short time; if departing from the continent of Kalimdor, even with calm seas, it would take at least 1-2 months, and that's calculating for the fastest possible time.
The orcs, at the city gates, would launch another attack within ten days at most, and the reinforcements from the Night Republic could not possibly arrive in such a short time.
However, since the Night Elves had officially sent envoys to visit, amidst the chaos of war, King Llane still granted an audience to Niana in Stormwind Keep.
"Your Majesty King Llane Wrynn, I am Ambassador Niana Starshadow of the Night Republic. It is an honor to be received by you."
Llane, looking weary, made a gesture with his hand. "No need for formalities. As the ambassador can see, the Kingdom of Stormwind is unable to fight further and is preparing to lead its people north by ship for refuge. The ambassador has come at an inopportune time."
Making her own decisions for the first time, Niana was still a bit nervous, but she remembered her mentor's words before leaving and did not show any timidity outwardly.
Before arriving, Niana had learned of the Kingdom of Stormwind's movements from Prihsim's scouts, and she was not surprised by Llane's decision to try and evacuate the homeland.
"If His Majesty Llane can hold out for another month or so, the first wave of reinforcements from the Broken Isles will arrive, but…"
Llane said with a wry smile, "Indeed, the Kingdom of Stormwind cannot hold out for another month. For the safety of our people, we must evacuate as soon as possible."
Niana nodded understandingly. "Then I won"t say anything more. Please allow me to accompany you all north. The Night Republic's naval fleet should arrive en route to escort our journey."
...In fact, if they used the energy of the Well of Eternity, the Night Elves should be able to teleport a small elite force to the Eastern Kingdoms in time.
But the High Council did not intend to expose transcontinental troop teleportation to other nations; such a formidable method could easily arouse the vigilance and apprehension of the various nations of Azeroth.
After all… no king would want to wake up one day to find his capital city surrounded by a suddenly appearing army.
Andreas did indeed plan to resolve the orc rebellion as quickly as possible, but time was not so pressing that she had to reveal her trump card.
Thanks to the hidden arrangements made beforehand, Llane was not assassinated by Garona, and the evacuation of the Kingdom of Stormwind maintained a relatively strict order.
The nobles frantically petitioned Llane to board the ships first, and Llane, ever compliant, arranged for them to be the first to evacuate.
Having lost their territories and armies, these nobles were like toothless tigers, no longer showing their previous arrogant demeanor.
In contrast, as a king publicly recognized by his people and other nations, Llane would still be treated with a certain degree of respect even if his kingdom fell.
Not to mention, he still held an elite royal guard unit, commanded by Anduin Lothar, which, from every angle, completely overpowered the nobles who had previously been so troublesome to him.
Llane now recalled his father, Byrathan, mentioning the issue of Stormwind's nobility when he was a child.
"Break to build… Heh, I didn"t expect it to break in such a painful way."
Llane's bitter smile made his queen, Taria, tightly grip his hand, silently conveying her support to her husband.
Clutching his wife and son, Llane's expression regained its determination.
"Set sail!"
Holding Varian's hand, he walked to the stern of the ship; the raging fires and thick smoke within Stormwind City were still clearly visible.
This fire was not set by the orcs, who had not yet launched their attack, but by Llane, who had ordered it as part of a scorched-earth tactic.
The orcs would not receive any supplies from the emptied Stormwind City, leaving them with nothing but a worthless ruin.
"Varian, remember the last appearance of our country and capital."
Llane said solemnly, 'sooner or later, we will reclaim our homeland. Whether you are king then or not, remember, you must rebuild this city to be exactly as we remember it."
Varian was a little puzzled. "Father, why must it be built exactly the same?"
"You will slowly understand later."
Llane said meaningfully, "Only then can our people, who linger in the prosperity of the northern lands, return to the homeland they remember."
Elwynn Forest, Horde main camp.
With the assassination of Durotan and his wife, Orgrim—Durotan's closest friend—was consumed by guilt.
He had never imagined the escorts he"d sent to protect them, out of kindness, were secretly loyal to the Shadow Council.
The couple's brutal deaths left their only son missing; recalling Draenor's withering and the eerie changes since Gul"dan and Fel Energy appeared, Orgrim could no longer tolerate these Fel-twisted freaks.
The Horde's first Warchief, Blackhand, was no mediocrity—his charisma and strategic brilliance had united the Clans and conquered Draenor.
But Blackhand's overreliance on Gul'dan's warlocks let the Shadow Council assassinate loyal chieftains without restraint.
Before Durotan, Whiteclaw Chieftain Zagrel had also died in suspicious circumstances for opposing Gul'dan.
Though lacking solid proof, Orgrim was certain Gul'dan had orchestrated it all.
The murder of Durotan and his wife pushed Orgrim's hatred of the Shadow Council to its peak.
Gul'dan's sudden coma was a heaven-sent chance; Orgrim knew the time had come to purge Fel Energy and set things right.
As he expected, in a sacred Mak'Gora duel Orgrim shattered Warchief Blackhand's skull with the doomhammer, his family heirloom.
Mak'Gora is an ancient orc tradition: a single combat to the death for Clan leadership.
By slaying Blackhand through this rite, Orgrim became the second Warchief of the Horde; his first decree was to eradicate the Shadow Council and warlocks who had ruined Draenor and defiled orc tradition.
The Shadow Council's warlocks, ever opportunistic, fled the camp ahead of time; Orgrim led soldiers to hunt them but found only empty tents.
With nowhere to vent his rage, Orgrim steeled himself—victory on the battlefield came first. He rallied the warriors and launched another assault on Stormwind City.
To Orgrim's shock, as they force-marched toward Stormwind, the once-impregnable city was already ablaze; towering flames and black smoke could be seen leagues away.
The inferno raged three days and nights; when Orgrim entered the ruins, the fire had reduced everything to white ash—no resources, no intelligence remained.
"Haa—"
Orgrim exhaled heavily; the surrounding chieftains felt his fury as their own.
Morale had just been raised for a bitter siege, yet the enemy fled during the Horde's internal strife, leaving only worthless rubble.
No intelligence, no grain, not even a roof left standing.
"Warchief," Kilrogg Deadeye of the Bloodfury Clan asked grimly, "what now?"
Mastering his emotions, Orgrim answered, "We halt the pursuit, secure what we've taken, and summon more troops and peons from Draenor. Before the next war, we need a stable food supply."
So far the Horde had survived on The Black Marsh's bounty and plunder, never building a solid supply chain.
Orcs are herders; hunting is their millennia-old way, yet Fel erosion was drying the marsh into cracked earth.
Though Orgrim banned further Fel use and the hunt for the Shadow Council continued, the Dark Portal's constant Fel leakage still worsened the land.
Yet he could not close the portal—he needed reinforcements from Draenor.
From human prisoners Orgrim learned that Stormwind was but one of eight human kingdoms; mightier realms lay far to the north.
To conquer this new world, he would need far more support from home.
"Warchief! We've captured a Shadow Council assassin!"
Blackrock Clan's Eitrigg strode forward clutching a limp half-orc woman—Garona, who had fled Stormwind.
Torn between two voices in her mind, Garona had wandered in a daze for days.
When the gentler voice finally dispelled Gul'dan's mental leash, the dazed Garona was found by the scouting Eitrigg.
"I remember you."
Orgrim crouched, eyes blazing at the vacant-eyed Garona on the ground. "You're Gul'dan's pet. You killed Zagrel of the Whiteclaw Clan, didn't you?"
He had no proof—only a bluff to pressure her for information.
"Cough!"
The weakened Garona tried to rise; Eitrigg pressed his axe to her neck.
"Yes, I did it."
To their surprise, Garona admitted it outright.
"Gul'dan controlled my mind; I stabbed Chieftain Zagrel through the heart, unable to resist."
"Die!"
Azuka Bladefury, chieftain of the Burning Blade Clan, swung her war-blade at Garona—assassination was despised by orcs who valued open combat.
Clang!
Orgrim blocked the strike with the doomhammer and shook his head. "Hold. She's still useful."
"The Shadow Council fled early; we need their whereabouts from her."
Garona sat up shakily, Eitrigg's axe still at her throat—any resistance and the advisor would sever her head.
"Warchief doomhammer, I can tell you where the Shadow Council hides, but I have one condition."
Orgrim silenced the other chieftains" outrage; his hunger for vengeance made Garona their only lead.
"Speak. Based on your intel and the price, I'll decide."
Pale and panting, Garona lifted her chin toward the stern Orgrim.
"Only one condition: set me free. I swear by the ancestors I'll reveal no Horde secrets."
To orcs, an ancestor-oath is the most sacred vow.
Orgrim rubbed his chin. "Easy enough. If you truly reveal Gul'dan and the Shadow Council's lair, after we wipe them out, you have my word."
Garona nodded. 'see that you keep it, Warchief. The Shadow Council's new stronghold is inside Blackrock Mountain, north of Redridge."