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Khadgar pauses as he enters the tent, letting his eyes adjust from the perpetual golden leaf fall of Talador to its dimly lit interior. Maraad's softly glowing eyes flick up from the map he's studying.

"Khadgar, well met." The draenei shifts to his full height, adamantine and crystal armor clanking.

"Well met." Khadgar moves toward the table. "I hear the strike against Mor'gran went well."

Maraad doesn't smile but Khadgar knows him well enough to recognize grim satisfaction. "Indeed. Their fleet will find few supplies waiting for them when it lands."

The Iron Dreadnought and its escort were still out at sea, last spotted only a few days up the coast. "Excellent news. I can report Voljin's Pride has had similar success taking out their Seigeyard in Archenon."

Maraad makes a note to the map. "Good. That will bring comfort to the refugees we are sheltering from there." He frowns. "They should still head to Shattrath rather than return, at least until we can finish wiping out this scourge."

Khadgar eyes the city on the map. The maker took the time to embellish it and its dome takes up an disproportionate amount of space. "How many refugees are there now?"

Maraad's expression darkens, his glowing eyes narrowed. "Several hundred with the Archenon survivors added to Tuurem's." The hand curled around the pencil clenches as his tail curls tightly.

Khadgar considers carefully how to best phrase his next question. "Would Karabor be a better able to absorb them? They are not about to be under siege and the Kirin Tor would be glad to lend you portal mages."

Maraad sets the pencil down, brows furrowed. "Perhaps. The community centers are already near full."

"And, forgive me, but it may be wise to send all the noncombatants with them."

Maraad's fist slams the table. "We are not going to lose Shattrath. Not here." He glares down at Khadgar.

"Of course not, but that's not my only reason for suggesting it."

The light in the tent brightens as the flap opens again. Yrel enters, armor still showing signs of fresh battle. "Oh good, you are still here, Archmage!" She smiles brightly, placing her two-handed ax in the weapons rack before walking over to join them. She's looking much better than when Khadgar first met her as a slave in the Blackrock mines and her confidence in her abilities has only grown. Velen's purple sigil blazes over her forehead crestbone.

"Well met, Exarch." Khadgar bows. "And congratulations on your promotion to the Council."

Yrel's lavender cheeks purple slightly. "My thanks, Archmage. What news have you brought us?"

"As I was about to tell Maraad, Cordana has been able to confirm the Shadow Council has infiltrated the members of Auchindoun." Yrel's smile immediately turns to shock while Maraad looks furious. "I do not know whom yet, but it's likely they also have members in Shattrath. With the Iron Horde coming to lay siege, the Council will likely take advantage of the chaos. I advise moving as many people to Karabor as possible."

Yrel looks worried. "That trek is long, Khadgar."

"The Kirin Tor will lend our portal mages to this, if you agree."

The younger draenei looks to Maraad. "You have told me Shattrath was lost in your timeway. That we were all lost." She turns back to Khadgar. "I believe it is wise to preserve as many of our people as we can. Should Shattrath persevere, will you also lend your mages to help the refugees return home?"

Khadgar bows again. "You have my word, Exarch."

"Then it shall be done." She sighs. "If even one of our Exarchs would betray us to the Legion, then we must take every opportunity we can to preserve life." She smiles at them both. "I am grateful for your aid and council. Our chances would be much worse were you not here."

"I will do everything in my power to preserve our people." Maraad salutes her.

Yrel places a hand on his arm. "You have done much already, Maraad, and saved so many." Her hand glows with warm, yellow light for a moment and Maraad's shoulders relax ever so slightly. "Trust in the Light."

Maraad nods, then turns suddenly to Khadgar. "What next, Archmage?"

"The Horde is planning a strike on Tuurem, to try and take out Orgrim Doomhammer." Maraad snorts at the name but Yrel doesn't recognize it. "Durotan thinks he may be able to talk to him."

"Hmph. Orcs don't talk, they kill."

"It is a worthy effort. May his ancestors bless him."

"Regardless, that's the last of the ground forces here. After that it's just dealing with the Dreadnought and the fleet once it arrives."

Yrel nods. "We will continue to prepare our forces. What of the Shadow Council?"

"Lady Liadrin of the sin'dorei has volunteered to assist us on that front. She'll be leaving for Auchindoun shortly and joining Exarch Maladaar there."

Maraad's eyes widen slightly. "Liadrin?"

"She feels she owes the draenei a favor yet for saving the Sunwell. She aims to repay it."

Maraad nods but Yrel looks confused. "This is Azeroth relations?"

"Aye. Velen, our Velen, saw fit to help the sin'dorei some years ago." Maraad looks like he disapproves.

"Well, that's wonderful!" Yrel had been close to Velen before this world's perished. Her grip on Maraad's arm tightens. "Will you tell me more of this?"

Khadgar bows to them one last time. "I will take my leave. Expect the mages within a day."

"Light bless you, Khadgar, travel safe!" Yrel waves to him and Maraad give him a nod before the human ducks out of the tent. He blinks at the bright light.

"How did it go?" Cordana stands from where she was stealthed, watching the rest of the camp.

"Let's just say Yrel has excellent timing." He arches an eyebrow at the night elf, tone dry. "I assume no sign of Garona?"

"She has not forgotten you, Khadgar," Cordana says stiffly.

"Nor I her. Come, let us return to Zangarra," he replies, opening a portal. They both step through, the magic winking out behind them.

Norman Farnsley walks steadily, movements deliberate and controlled with nothing wasted. Most Forsaken move in such a manner, muscles no longer dependent on uneven biology to flex, if they flex at all. A green skinned orc gives him a look of distaste as he heads towards Kanu's tent but turns away in a coughing fit quickly enough. Beastwatch is mostly recovered from the bout of snuffles that had struck it, though not before it had spread to the rest of the forces from Azeroth. As far as the warlock can tell, the disease had begun here. Perhaps it had been engineered by the local botani, a new weapon similar to their seed pods? Fortunate, then, that it had been so mild an illness. He shoves aside the skin covering the entrance into Kanu's tent, startling the tauren. The bull sneezes and a pale spray of mucus flies across the maps he is standing over. "Greetings, Cloudchaser." As always, the Forsaken's voice is raspy and dry.

"Norman," the shaman says with some surprise, ears flicking once as he grabs a cloth to wipe the maps clean. "What brings you to Beastwatch?"

"I had heard you were ill. That all here were ill, before all at Voljin's Spear were ill, before all of Orgrimmar, too, began coughing." He walks around the table to the tauren who rises to his full height before him, towering several heads above the former human. "I am pleased to see you are doing well."

Kanu's eyes are narrowed at him. "I am mostly recovered. The elements have been willing to lend their aid."

"That is fortunate. It is not often an illness spreads so far and so fast." Norman is an unliving reminder of the last time one did. "I have concern that this was created by the botani as a weapon against us."

One of Kanu's ears flick, his stance relaxing slightly. "No, though it has not stopped them from trying to take advantage. No, this I believe I caught from Khadgar."

The Forsaken gazes at him a long moment, eyebrows rising to crinkle the paper like skin of his forehead. "You caught snuffles from a human?" He reaches up and swipes a glob of the pale yellow mucus dripping from Kanu's muzzle and the tauren recoils from his bony touch.

"What are you doing?"

Norman is stretching the ooze between forefinger and thumb. "Diseases that affect multiple races are rare." His yellow eyes look up at Kanu. "This is dangerous."

Kanu's ears drop at him, tail thrashing once. "You are no Apothecary."

"I am not. I kept my name." The corners of his mouth crack as he frowns. "But you are not the only one fallen ill and many are loyal to the Dark Lady. Word has likely made its way to her already."

Kanu's tail thrashes again. "She would use this?"

Norman gives him a one shouldered shrug. "As you said, I am no Apothecary. I cannot say what efforts were taken to create the Blight. Nor would I claim the Horde has ever used such a thing. I only know that Gilneas was quickly won once the Banshee Queen took the field. Clearly she is a clever tactician."

"…clearly." The bull shifts his weight, nearly stamping a hoof. "I had heard rumors-"

"And rumors they shall remain," Norman cuts off sharply. "We are fighting a war. It is not time to distract ourselves with things that might be happening a world away. Nor is that a murloc swarm prodded lightly." He incinerates the ooze between his fingers with a bit of fel flame, sulfurous odor filling the air. "I merely came to check on the well being of a friend and offer my assistance with the campaign he is leading."

Kanu huffs, the maps on the table fluttering as his breath passes. "I suppose there is little to be done if it has already reached Orgrimmar. We are fortunate, then, it is a mild illness." Norman doesn't bother telling him that Sylvanas would be most interested in its morbidity, not mortality. Blight was already fatal but didn't kill much beyond orcs and humans, living or undead. "And I could use your assistance. Progress has been severely hampered with the loss of the relic. Rexxar has been scouring the goren tunnels to see if there's a path there, but they're worse than kobolds when it comes to routes."

"What about a diversion? Something to draw their eyes from the Iron Docks so a small force could sneak in and sabotage the ships?"

Kanu pulls at the tuft of fur on his chin. "An assault on the quarry, perhaps. They would be eager to protect the source of their ore." He nods at Norman. "I will speak with the Frostwolves and Laughing Skull on the matter. You are available to assault the Docks?"

The warlock inclines his head. "The Spires have been quiet and my garrison is well in hand. I can stay to help."

"Thank you. I will send a message at once."

Beastwatch isn't very far north of Highpass, just on the edge of where the botani have grown the forest to. The Horde base is hidden among a strand of trees and overlooks both the woods to the south and the arid wasteland to the north. Northern Gorgrond is practically a desert, filled with strange rock formations and steaming pools of water. From this height Khadgar can even pick out gronn in the distance, battling with the edges of botani growth and ripping up the plants as soon as they sprout. He surprises himself with a wheezing cough and a thread of worry worms through him. He knows he's coming down with something but it shouldn't be affecting his raven form and certainly not this quickly. The flight was barely an hour.

He quickly descends to Beastwatch, hoarsely cawing as alights on a tent pole. There are several orcs about wearing strange skull-like masks; Laughing Skull clan. Outnumbering them are trolls and tauren all bearing totems that mark them as shaman. One brown furred tauren looks up from a map he's studying on a table, his horns stretching out nearly a foot from his head. "Khadgar!" Kanu grins, his deep voice booming across the camp. "Welcome, Archmage, I'm glad you received my missive." His ears flick as Khadgar takes his human form. "You are looking pale, my friend."

"Well met, Kanu," Khadgar answers, leaning heavily on Atiesh. "I'm coming down with something, I'm afraid. How may I help you?" Please let it be something quick.

"Of course. This way." The tauren turns his broad back to Khadgar and leads the way into the tent behind him. Khadgar gasps as soon as they pass inside; the pelts have been warded and hid the magic that lay within.

"Where did you find this?" He steps forward to examine a large, squat cylinder that sits on a table, nearly taking up the entire surface. It's sides are a dull bronze color, dusty and encrusted with dirt. Its surface is edged in the same metal, securing a large, pale, glass-like domed top. The metal bands are etched with runes Khadgar recognizes. It's been damaged recently judging by the deep score along its surface, exposing severed innards. The dome isn't shattered, though, just cut through. Whatever strange material it is isn't as brittle as glass.

"Stole it from an Iron Horde excavation. It controls the gronn and the magnaron, the big ones with the strange markings. Touching it let you feel where those creatures were for leagues and give them commands. We used it to assault the Iron Approach. We freed many slaves but the artifact was damaged."

Khadgar reaches out to touch the device after getting a nod from Kanu. There is no connection to the gronn now. He can still sense the power source within and he reads the runes aloud. "'The Heart of the Magnaron.' I don't know how, but this is-" He's broken off by a hacking cough. "Titan," he finally gasps.

Kanu's tail thrashes, eyes widening. "Titan? A Titan relic, here? I don't understand."

"Nor I," Khadgar replies, wishing he'd gotten to inspect it before it was damaged. "I have never heard legends or stories of a Titan presence on Draenor, at least not the one we know." He swallows back a cough. "But perhaps that's another variance between them." The cough wins out, leaving the human hacking.

Kanu gently places a massive three fingered hand on his shoulder, face concerned. "May I ease your illness? I specialize in the element of water, I should be able to pull some of it out of your lungs."

Khadgar's leaning heavily on his staff when he can finally speak again. "I...would appreciate that, yes. This came on quite quickly."

"This will feel strange," Kanu warns him, "but it should not hurt."

The tauren raises his hands, chanting quietly in Taur-ahe. Blue light swirls and eddies around his palms, reaching out to Khadgar's chest. It's one of the more bizarre sensations Khadgar has ever felt, something slimy and moist being pulled up and out of his lungs. He coughs as it passes but his breathing easier almost immediately. They both stare at the suspended ball of vibrant green mucus.

Kanu's ears flick but his tone is mischievous. "You haven't been spending time with an Apothecary, have you?"

"Not to my knowledge," Khadgar answers, a frown touching his own features. The thought of Apothecaries with something that works this quickly in their arsenal makes him uneasy. "Do you mind if I burn that? Just in case."

"Be my guest."

"Thank you," the mage says as he carefully incinerates the mass, careful to not drip fire anywhere. "I can breathe much easier now."

"It doesn't help with the disease itself, but you should feel better for a time. As for the relic, can you fix it? It is a most potent weapon and would be a great boon in our war."

Khadgar bends over the device again, inspecting the inner workings. "I'm afraid this is beyond my magic. It's more the mechanics of it that are broken. The best chance of fixing it would be to bring it to the gnomes. Unless you want to trust something this delicate to goblins."

Kanu snorts. "Hardly." His ears flick as he thinks. "The device is broken and worthless like this. Technically, you lead this expedition, not the Horde. I do not see an issue in bequeathing you a broken Titan artifact."

The human's eyebrows rise. "I do not mean to put you in a difficult position, Kanu."

"You are not," he replies, shaking his mane out. "It is habit from when Garrosh ruled and his Kor'kron made a point of hunting down traitors, real or imagined. Those days are past and we are at peace, however long it may last." He huffs. "Take the relic. Repair it that we may defeat the Iron Horde."

"It may take some time," Khadgar warns. "This could be completely different than the Titan machinery we're used to. In which case I'm certain Mekkatorque will not sleep a wink until he understands it."

Kanu's eyes widen. "You would bring this to the High Tinker himself?"

"Of course." Khadgar grins. "Gelbin and I have been friends for many years; he'd love the chance to repair something like this."

"Gnomes." Kanu snorts a laugh. "Extend my thanks to the High Tinker, then, for his help in defeating the Iron Horde."

"Consider it done. I will take this straight to him." He places his hand on the device. "Farewell, Kanu."

"Farewell, Archmage," the young bull answers as Khadgar and the device wink out of sight in a flash of purple light.

Gorgrond is hot and arid. That they're currently surrounded by dense vegetation, almost a jungle, is a testament to the botani's vigor and skill. The local plant creatures are vicious, capturing and killing any animal thing they can get their roots in, using the flesh as fertilizer. Khadgar would question the wisdom of setting up a base on the edge of the hungry woods but he trusts the Rangari know this land better than he.

"Hail, Ben! Hail, Maraad!" He raises a hand to wave at the Alliance commander and the draenei Vindicator and suddenly has a coughing fit.

" 'ail and well met, Khadgar. You ill?" The worgen's gruff voice covers most of his concern but his face is still worried.

"Mm. I seem to have caught a cold but nothing debilitating."

"That is fortunate, Archmage." Maraad's looking as stoic as ever. "If you should need healing you need only ask."

"My thanks, Maraad, but I don't think this is serious enough to warrant it." The draenei bows his crested head in acknowledgement.

Ben nods. "Alright then. Welcome to 'ighpass. I've got another box o' rocks for yah, but they're about as busted as the last lot. 'aven't made much 'eadway towards the Iron 'orde base, either." He gestures for Khadgar to follow him, leading the way to a table with arcane etchings on its surface. Suspended above it is a blood red pod, fist-sized. "Botani won't give us any 'eadway."

Khadgar raises a hand to touch the gently floating, pulsating seed pod but Ben catches his wrist in a tight grip.

"Bad idea, that. The plant life 'ere is aggressive, never seen anything like it. Spores'll grow in anything." The worgen releases him. "You 'eard about Sol?"

Khadgar shivers, suppressing another cough. Sol had been charged with establishing a Kirin Tor base further north with a portal straight to Stormwind to facilitate bringing troops against the Iron Horde. The botani had overrun it, their plants somehow possessing the archmage and turning her against her own people. "This is what infested her?"

Ben nods. "And the fungus 'ere is just as bad. Worse, maybe, the draenei won't even go down to the swamps no more. Lost too many Rangari. I'm workin' with the Kirin Tor on something to help keep us from being infested, but it's slow going. Plants don't want to work with me 'ere." He shakes his head. "They're real mad about somethin' stone things did to 'em once but I can't get anythin' more out of them."

"I know of a few stories and legends that claim plants and rocks have been at war as long as Draenor has existed." Maraad frowns slightly. "They are orc stories. You would need to speak with one of their shaman for details."

Khadgar frowns. "The Horde reports the elementals north of here are constantly fighting against the botani, but that the stone creatures have strange markings on them. I wonder…"

Ben grunts. "Kanu is up there, yeah? Guess we can trust a tauren's word." Khadgar coughs and gives him a disapproving look. "Don't. I know you want us all workin' together but it was only two years ago the Horde drove me out of me 'omeland. Protecting Azeroth is important, yeah, but don't push for too much. Especially with that Forsaken." He growls. "'e's lucky I didn't rip his throat out the first time I caught 'is scent."

"I appreciate you trying, Ben. I know it's not easy to put aside old hurts."

"Not that old. That's the problem, innit? Didn't really care at all about the Lordaeron invaders till they came and knocked down my door. They're still in Gilneas, pollutin' it with that blight of theirs."

Khadgar looks alarmed. "What? I thought Garrosh forbade that?"

Ben snorts while Maraad looks grim. "Didn't stop 'er, did it? You think Garrosh could control that bitch? Sure, they've kept quiet about it but I was there. Garrosh's kept us from doing anythin' about it since. Still is, the bastard." He spits. "Can't wait to hunt 'im down proper and end this, get back to what matters." A low roar, miles distant, echoes up from the woods below them. Ben's ears prick forward, focusing on the sound. "'ey, Jonaa, any news on where that genesaur is 'eaded?"

"Kaalya's report from yesterday said it seems to be staying in the southern part of Gorgrond," a lightly armored draenei answers, one of the Rangari. "Doesn't seem to be trying to cross the mountains into Talador yet."

Ben grunts. "Keep me posted, yeah?"

Khadgar coughs while giving him a curious look. "Genesaur?"

"Big colossal plant centaur things. Bigger than gronn big. Completely destroyed the Rangari base, it's why they're 'ere with us. I'd 'ate to actually have to fight one."

"I don't recommend it," Maraad offers, "unless you seek a swift death."

"I'll be certain to avoid them," Khadgar promises.

"Anyway, that's all I've got for you. Box o' rocks. You got any insight into this?" He gestures to the pod.

"Fire?"

Ben laughs. "Yeah, that works well enough but most people can't walk around with a torch in front of their face. Burns my whiskers."

Khadgar offers a sympathetic wince. "I shall work on it, my friend, but the mages you're already working with are likely more suited to the task than I." He suppresses another cough.

"Alright. You should 'ead off then, I've got to go inspect the Tangle'eart with the Rangari. Been losing a lot of people to the botani there."

"Do you need help?"

"Stealth, I'm afraid." Ben chuckles. "You're no good at that at the best of times and your coughin' don't help none. Go rest up, Khadgar." He claps the man's back. "Take a look through your Apexy thingies." He gestures for Joraa to follow him.

"Of course. Many thanks and farewell." Khadgar carefully secures the box in his satchel. He's feeling tired all of a sudden and rest sounds like a good idea but he still needs to check in on Kanu before he can do that. "And you, Maraad?"

"Yrel is looking in on a Dark Iron base we lost contact with to the west. Other Rangari are scouting the ridge line to the north and watching the elementals movements. I am here to 'hold the fort' as you say and prepare our forces for when we can engage with the Iron Horde." Maraad sounds surprisingly eager as he says that.

"Have we learned anything about their base here?"

"Only that it is massive and heavily industrialized. It is becoming apparent that Garrosh taught them much." His thick tail curls tightly. "The docks are the most important thing to reach. If we can destroy their ships it will greatly disrupt their ability to travel and keep our coastal settlements safe." His eyes close for a moment, shuttering off their glow. "I am thankful to the Light that we saved Karabor but the temple is still in danger, as is Shattrath. I cannot bear to watch my people die a second time." He opens his eyes to look at Khadgar. "You have seen their atrocities first hand. You know."

Khadgar gives a slow nod, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We will stop them, Maraad. What befell Outland will not happen here, I promise you."

The Vindicator nods, features grim and voice cold. "I would kill them all to prevent that fate."

"Hopefully that will not be necessary." Khadgar gives him a gentle smile. "We will not fail."

"Thank you, Khadgar." He sighs. "Seeing this world, seeing my people unharmed, you think it would fill me with joy. Instead I only feel fear for what may befall them. How unbecoming of a Vindicator." He shakes his head, tendrils swaying with the motion. "I will put my faith in the Alliance. They have not let me down yet."

"It is well placed." Khadgar takes his staff in both hands, leaning on it slightly. "I must go, I still need to visit the Horde encampment.

Maraad snorts. "I am with Ben on that. It is good you are the one to play diplomat with them. The tauren is alright, but Gorla is old enough to have sacked Shattrath." He holds up a hand as Khadgar opens his mouth to speak. "It is likely for the best that I do not know either way. Farewell, Khadgar. Do not let your guard down."

"You all look exhausted." Khadgar eyes the Alliance commanders with some concern as the guard that showed him in salutes and returns to his post. The Command building is little more than a log cabin with a dirt floor, but it has a table spread with maps that the five commanders are currently slumped at.

"Oh, greetings, Khadgar." Asurra gives him a tired smile. "We are eating soon if you'd like to join us."

"Talbuck stew," Ben offers. " 'unted them meself."

"I would be pleased to." A makeshift chair is brought, a shipping crate, and bowls are set and filled. Sweet moonberry juice brought in skins is poured into simple wooden cups. "How goes the campaign? Last I heard you were preparing for an Iron Horde assault on Karabor."

"Their ships came in last night," Shinria says around a mouthful of stew. She swallows. "They completely blocked off the temple's harbor. Were it not for the aid of the naaru, Karabor would be lost."

"Naaru? Here?" The crystalline entities had long been allies of the draenei but he'd thought the only one planet side in this timeline was in Nagrand.

Asurra nods. "We've had no time to send word. Ner'zhul's 'Dark Star' was a darkened naaru. This world's Velen…" She heaves a sigh, her horned head bowing. "Velen sacrificed himself to return K'ure to the Light. He passed his sigil to Yrel. She led the defense of Karabor."

Khadgar places a hand on her forearm. "I'm sorry, Asurra. Do you need anything?" He cannot imagine that's an easy thing to bear, even if it technically wasn't the Velen she's known all her life.

The priest smiles warmly at him, covering his hand with her own. "I will be fine. Yrel led the anchorites magnificently."

"Aye," Balinor agrees. "The lass has taken a real shine to the ways of the paladin." He winks at Khadgar, knowing the mage's appreciation of puns. "Maraad's with her now, helping her look after her people." A look of confusion crosses his features. "Eh, their people?"

Asurra laughs lightly. "A good question. There are faces at the temple I never thought to see again." She closes her eyes. "It is enough to know they are safe here."

"So. Archmage." The night elf's eyes are piercing behind their glow. "What brings you?"

"You do seldom come for social reasons," Jinks agrees, mopping stew off his moustache.

Khadgar laughs. "Ah, my friends, I shall try to remedy that," He smiles cheerily before the gravity of situation starts to settle over him.

Shinria frowns. "You have news of Gul'dan." Ben's ears pin back and his head droops as Khadgar nods. Balinor rests a hand on the worgen's shoulder.

"He and his warlocks are in Shadowmoon. Cordana's narrowed down where but I was hoping to ask your assistance with capturing him."

"I'll go," Ben says immediately. "Whatever needs doin' to stop 'im."

"Thank you, Ben. There's an outpost set up just to the southwest, Starfall. Do you know it?"

"The one Elune's priests been workin' on? Yeah, I know it."

"I'll come, too," Jinks says, nodding to them both.

"Excellent. I'll meet you there as soon as you're both recovered."

-------

The Sisters of Elune have been working hard with a contingent of Wardens to establish a moonwell at Starfall, per his request, but are having some trouble imbuing the waters with their magical properties. Khadgar isn't surprised; he can't imagine Elune's powers can reach very well across time and space to this place. But Delas has assured him there are ways to bless the waters even here and they will be ready when Khadgar needs them. Khadgar is conferring with Cordana about their plan when Jinks, astride a white stag, reaches the tents of the outpost. The mage grins as the gnome dismounts, rubbing his backside, and the stag changes to Ben's worgen form. "Well met, my friends. You're just in time."

"I've tracked Gul'dan to an orc village in this area, Gul'var," Cordana's voice growls out from beneath her repaired helmet, cutting off any return of pleasantries.

Khadgar frowns slightly but picks up where she leaves off. "They're protected from my scrying magic by a fel prescence in the woods."

"There's a demonic watcher hidden in a cave." Cordana looks between the two commanders. "You're going to help me capture it."

"Capture it?" Jinks wonders as Ben's ears pin back.

"Yes. We should be able to use its abilities to pierce the veil," Khadgar assures them.

"It's a demon, ain't it?" Ben looks confused. "'ow you plannin' to use it? You use fel now?" Jinks smacks the back of his calf, looking chagrinned.

"...No," Khadgar says stiffly. Ben has the grace to look abashed and Khadgar has to remind himself that until recently the Gilnean had been secluded behind a wall, cut off from the world since he was a child. "There are other methods to draw information from such creatures."

"Namely, me," Cordana says, face hidden behind her plate. "Now let's be about our business. Stay hidden, Archmage."

"Champions! A moment, please," Delas calls to them, eager to ask a favor for the outpost and drawing Cordana's attention away before she can see him roll his eyes. They hear the priest's request out and nod before turning down the trail. Khadgar watches the trio head out, forbidden by Cordana from putting himself in danger again. She was spooked by Gul'dan's threats against him, as if he couldn't look after himself, but he has no desire to see if she was sincere about turning him into a prisoner to keep him safe.

Sometimes he wonders what Maiev teaches her Wardens.

It's seems his caution in challenging the huntress is warranted when she returns with the others a few hours later, leading a monstrosity bound in warded chains. The watcher is an Observer demon, a large one, nearly the size of a cart. It's a sphere of floating purple flesh, with waving flaps of gill-like skin for ears and multiple tendrils hanging down beneath its body. One central, blue eye surrounded by six smaller ones takes up most of its face, with a large, fanged mouth filling the rest of it beneath. It struggles against its bindings, nearly burning the air as it curses at Cordana in demonic. Ben and Jinks trail well behind the thing, Jinks levitating along a pure white, pock-marked boulder next to them.

"It'd be easier to guard you if you stayed out of sight, Khadgar," the Warden says with exasperation as she sees him outside of his tent.

He scowls slightly, tired of having this argument with her. "I am not a child to cower beneath your cape, Cordana." She grunts at him as she secures the demon in a warded circle he prepared for it. Jinks and Ben are all too happy to bring the white stone to Delas. The night elf thanks them profusely, placing the boulder in the waters of the moonwell. She prays over the stone and it almost seems to glow with light in the perpetual twilight of Shadowmoon Valley. The energy suffuses into the waters and they glimmer and twinkle in the well. Delas beams at him.

He ignores Cordana's glare (he assumes she's glaring under the helmet) as he strides over to the well. "Excellent work, Delas, thank you. With these waters we can break the demon's will and use it to see into Gul'var." He smirks at Jinks and Ben. "That way, they won't know it's us scrying upon them." He's pleased with the way their faces light up in comprehension. Certainly the task would be easier if one of them were a warlock, used to breaking demonic wills, but Khadgar could make due with the tools at hand. "First, however, we'll need to weaken their shrouding magic."

"You're talking about those stones in the woods? I sensed some strong fel from them," Jinks squeaks up at him.

"Aye, my friend. Those stones were originally erected by the Shadowmoon orcs, for use in the shamanic rituals. Now they're cursed, spreading fel throughout the woods."

"They're corrupting the local wildlife," Cordana adds as Ben nods.

"Wolves 'ave already turned green from it," he growls.

Delas looks horrified. "Will breaking the stones break the curse?"

Jinks shakes his head. "Unlikely. Fel magic is persistent and pervasive and this magic was likely performed by Gul'dan himself."

"In other words, it's best to put the beasts out of their misery," Cordana says coolly.

Delas frowns. "If I had more time-" She cuts herself off with a sigh. "You are likely right, Warden. Please end their suffering and keep them from spreading the curse further. Be swift." She looks between Ben and Jinks. "Those creatures are the true victims here."

"I'll send the other Wardens to accompany you," Cordana says, staring at Khadgar. "The archmage and I will go over the next step of the plan."

"Be wary." Khadgar ignores Cordana. "I suspect the stones are heavily guarded." The mage and druid skirt the demon's circle as they leave Starfall, shadowed by two of Cordana's Wardens.

"Inside," she snaps at him, holding open the drape of his tent. He grits his teeth as he walks past her, throwing out a few lights into the interior so he could see. She didn't need it, night elf that she was. "Need I remind you, again, that you requested Warden assistance on this expedition, Archmage? And that Maiev saw fit to grant it?"

"You and I both know she only acquiesced in case Illidan exist-"

"Something you brought up to use her passion to blind her. I am no fool, Khadgar, you wanted Wardens here with you and yet you fight my advice every step of the way." The elf's fists are clenched on the edges of her cloak.

"That is not true, Cordana. This plan with the Observer is at your suggestion." He frowns. "But I will not hide myself away while others place themselves in danger on my behalf. Not with Gul'dan loose and making plans."

"He is making plans to murder you."

"It is not the first time I've had someone set to take my life." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Light's sake, Cordana, I've had Deathwing out to get me. I am no stranger to avoiding assassins."

She is silent for a moment and not for the first time he wishes he could see her face. "Then why am I here? Why ask for the Wardens?"

"Because I was afraid that Gul'dan was here. Because of what Gul'dan's presence means."

Her head tilts back suddenly. "…you fear the Legion."

He nods with a sigh, thankful she understands. "I fear the Legion. Gul'dan has obviously already been in contact with them. His Shadow Council is well established." He gives her a wan smile. "He knows my name. What else has the Legion told him? What other tasks have they set him? The Gul'dan of our timeline set the old Horde loose to conquer Azeroth in the Legion's name. That invasion changed the face of Azeroth forever. Azeroth has always been the Legion's end goal." He raises his hands in a helpless gesture. "What is this Gul'dan meant to do?"

"We Wardens are jailors. Do you mean to capture him?"

"And find out what he knows. Or, barring, that, at least keep him from causing any more trouble."

Her helmet slowly shakes from side to side. "My orders are to keep you safe, archmage. Not capture the warlock."

"And if he was Illidan instead?"

"You well know Maiev's answer to that."

"Then think of this as preventing Illidan. It was the Skull of Gul'dan that transformed him, after all." She gives no answer. "I will be attempting to do this with or without your assistance. But I'm certain I would be far safer with your help."

"I could still place you in shackles, you know."

He smiles, fairly certain her tone was lighter there. "Let's reserve that option, shall we? Besides, my being in the open keeps Gul'dan interested."

"I'm certain you're meddling is enough to keep him interested," she grumbles at him. "Very well, archmage. I will continue to guard you to the best of my abilities while you poke a Legion of demons." Is she…is she joking with him? His smile broadens.

"Thank you, Cordana. Your trust is well placed." He's certain he hears her snort at that and he grins, well pleased she caught his pun.

--------

"If I never taste another toad as long as I live, it'll be too soon." Ben's voice is the first they hear, accompanied by a loud hawking spit. Jinks is giggling next to him.

"No one told you to chew on them. Anyway, they're nowhere near as bad as the ones on the Timeless Isle."

"Ain't that the truth." The worgen spits again as Khadgar emerges from his tent, meeting them and Cordana outside.

"You've done well, champions! The shroud has lifted enough for us to make use of the demon."

"I see all!" The watcher has not stopped snarling threats, instead having picked up enough Common to use the language itself. Observers were known for being astonishingly clever. "Not one of you will escape my wrath!"

Delas shakes her head and scowls as she approaches them, bearing a censer of blessed moonwell water and a scripture of Elune. "These should be enough to compel the demon to show us what it knows."

The observer leers at her. "A succulent priestess of the moon. What a tasty morsel you'll make, delightful Delas." It licks its fanged teeth and the night elf looks away.

"Please deal with it quickly," she grits out furiously, her rage at the thing barely contained. "Its words are becoming trying."

Cordana accepts the tools. "I shall handle it, sister." Her tone matches Delas', strained from having to listen to the creature boast. She stalks to the demon's circle, censer raised high.

"Stay away from me with those things!"

"Bask in the light of Elune and reveal all, demon!"

"You are weak!" It laughs at her, wincing only slightly as moonlight caresses it. "I see how hollow you are within! It will be I who compels you!" Its laugh is cut short by a scream as Cordana splashes the moonwell's waters across it.

"You will show me what I wish to know, filth."

Khadgar reflects again that it would have been easier to have a warlock do this, but the closest friendly one he knows of is a Forsaken of the Horde. He would be hard pressed to keep Ben from killing him on sight.

"No more!" The demon cries out at last, seemingly shrinking in on itself. "I will turn my gaze upon Gul'var for you."

"Then do so, you worm."

The Observer cowers under her command as pale blue light emanates from its eyes, coalescing into an image before them. Gul'dan and the Council seem to be in a building of some kind. The orc, Teron'gor, and the two-headed ogre, Cho'Gall, are gathered around him as before, along with a draenei.

"Razuun," Gul'dan says, the observer mimicking his voice. "How goes the infiltration?"

The draenei seems to steel himself. "There have been…complications, my lord."

Gul'dan's back is to the projection, they cannot see his face, but they can see the rest of the Council members go carefully still. "Go on."

"Socrethar was hasty in carrying out his objectives," Razuun speaks carefully. "He managed to murder one of the Exarchs but failed to hide his trail well enough and was killed himself."

Ben chuckles. "Balinor rooted 'im out. Exarch Othaar, that is. Couldn't fool Bally, or the other Exarch, Maladaar."

Khadgar gives a worried look to Cordana. Orcs allying with Gul'dan is one thing, that was the path they had originally followed. But draenei turning to him as well? Followers of the Light that had more reason to fear the Legion than any other, willingly converting? It did not bode well.

He misses the last few statements, dismissed as Gul'dan reprimanding the other warlock. But Gul'dan has turned around and is seemingly staring straight at them, hands moving in ritual patterns. "You're a fool, Khadgar, to think this would work a second time." There's a flare of light from the orc's hands and suddenly the observer demon cries out in pain before falling to the ground, lifeless.

"He knows you're here," Cordana hisses, hand on a glaive in case the demon is faking.

"He is making an educated guess," Khadgar assures her, waving a hand and incinerating the corpse before it can contaminate the ground beneath it. "But we must move quickly now."

She's already shaking her head. "It's too dangerous for us to just barge in there. That whole village is teeming with warlocks, Khadgar."

Jinks hums thoughtfully. "We could sneak in, couldn't we? Us three?" He gestures to Cordana, Ben, and himself. "I know your both stealthy and I'm pretty good at keeping myself out of sight," he boasts. "And before you say it, not just because I'm a gnome. I've gotten pretty good at keeping myself invisible over the years. Could we sneak in, grab Gul'dan, and have you ready to teleport us out, Khadgar?"

Khadgar considers it. He's loathe to send them in his stead, but he knows he's no good at being sneaky. He could follow them with scrying and, should they be found out, teleport them out early. They could always head in after, magic blazing. "It could work. Gul'dan is as much demon as he is orc. The warlocks there are sure to have soul shards; if you could gather a few of the more potent ones perhaps we could capture him with them."

Jinks gives him a worried look. "I'm not sure I know how to do that."

"Oh, I know she doesn't want me going out there," he says, giving Cordana a flat look. "But I can help by magically projecting myself."

"You're right, you're not going out there." He's certain Cordana's face would brook no argument could he see it.

"Promise me you'll be safe, champions?"

"Don't worry, Archmage, I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't do." Jinks laughs, fully aware that limiting himself to 'what would Khadgar do' leaves a great many options open.

"Good thing it's always twilight 'ere," Ben grunts. "Makes sneakin' easier for me." And with that he transforms himself into a great cat before nodding to Cordana that he's ready.

"Be ready, Archmage." Cordana's voice is stern. "Gul'dan will be."

The first part of the mission goes well enough. Cordana's full plate is elven made and magically enchanted and he knows well how silently she can move in it. Ben is little more than a shadow, leaping straight from a tree branch to a nearby roof, staying out of sight from those below. Jinks he cannot see at all and he's more than a little impressed that the younger mage can maintain his spell for so long. He puts together the framework for the mass teleport in his mind, ready to drop the magic sustaining the scrying spell into it at a moment's notice. Jinks and Ben, however, have obviously done this sort of work before. Cordana points out the target, Jinks Silences them, and Ben initiates the attack without a sound, his feline claws and jaws making short work of the orcs. Cordana fishes out the soul shards, obscures the body, and the three of them melt into the shadows once more.

The Warden clears a building then gives a signal to the empty room. He drops the scrying spell to project himself instead, appearing as a translucent purple image next to her. "Will these do?"

He eyes the ruby red shards, unable to actually manipulate them. "I believe so. They'll need to be forged together. You'll need a heat source and a great deal of power."

Jinks appears in front of them as he speaks. "I can manage that." He looks up at Cordana. "Do I have time to work here?"

Cordana glances up to the rafters, making sure Ben is there. "We will make time. Work quickly." She passes the shards to the gnome and disappears out of the tent.

"You need to combine the shards to forge a soul trap. The shards are already designed for such a thing, but you need to fuse them to make a more powerful one."

The gnome is peering at the shards, eyes glowing slightly in the dim interior of the tent as he magically examines them. "These aren't unlike crystallized enchanting materials."

"That's exactly what they are. You remember the process to combine small prismatic shards into large ones?"

"Of course. It's a simple matter of linking their matrices and applying energy to their junctions to cause them to fuse."

Khadgar grins. "Just so. Only it takes a great deal of power for a soul shard. Souls are powerful things, after all."

"Alright!" Jinks rubs his hands together. "Let's fire this up." Lavender flames flare up from his palms as he gathers the shards, infusing them with more and more power. A few of the smaller crystals disintegrate upon exposure to the energy, but the three largest shards seem to melt together into one. Jinks pants. "Whew."

"Well done, my friend!" Khadgar moves to clap him on the back, stopping short when he remembers he can't. "That should hopefully hold him."

"How do I, uh, use it?"

"Ah, that's simple. The shard will do most of the work, you just need to aim a bolt through it at Gul'dan. If you succeed, it'll end the Shadow Council here and now." He sobers slightly. "Be careful, my friend. Gul'dan is not to be underestimated no matter how prepared you might be."

Jinks nods, taking a deep breath and carefully pocketing the shard. "Nothing to worry about. He won't even see me coming." He winks at Khadgar and disappears from sight again. Khadgar looks up to watch Ben slink out and then drops the projection so he can scry again.

Cordana leads them towards a clearing at the top of a hill. Set around the edges are stone pillars, casting shadows under the Valley's perpetual twilight sky. Fastened to the pillars in chains are orcs, their life slowly leaching out of them into the stones. Gul'dan and Razuun are the only two free warlocks, feverishly working together over a stone alter. Of Teron'gor and Cho'Gall there is no sign. The two master warlocks are focused on the alter, in the middle of some dark ritual that needs the energy from that many sacrifices. Khadgar bites his lip as Cordana positions herself behind a pillar and Ben atop another one.

And suddenly Jinks is in the middle of the clearing, a dark purple beam of energy, arcane laced with the fel of the soul shard, lancing towards Gul'dan's back. It strikes him between his spines, his back arching from the impact. The power he and Razuun were gathering fizzles out, the draenei crying out as his fingers are singed. Jinks is holding the shard with both of his small hands as Gul'dan begins to levitate, struggling against the energy as it begins to slowly turn him towards the soul shard. "You…" the orc growls at Jinks, flicking his hand sharply down. There's a ear-splitting shatter and Jinks yells as the shard he's holding splinters into his palms. Ben leaps for Gul'dan's back only to snarl as the warlock pulls up the same impenetrable barrier from before. The warlock chuckles. "I remember you, druid. I still owe you for freeing me from the Iron Horde. For that, I won't kill you now. Razuun, however-"

"Is already dead," Cordana sneers from behind the draenei's body as it falls to the ground.

Gul'dan frowns slightly, then shrugs. "No matter. He had already completed his task. And we've played this game once before, you and I." He grins at Cordana as black, ephemeral hands rip open a warlock gate behind him. "Do give my regards to Khadgar. I've a present coming for him."

"No!" Cordana leaps forward, crescent glaive swinging down in an arc but it slashes through empty air. Gul'dan is gone. "Khadgar, now!" The archmage obeys, holding focus on the scrying spell long enough to plug their location into the teleportation framework. He's disorientated a moment when there's a flash of blue light both in his mind's eye and right in front of him as Cordana, Ben, and Jinks appear. "Wardens! Sentinels!" Cordana's still gripping her glaive tightly. "Secure the perimeter!" Her elves alert to her cry, pulling their own glaives and bows as they scatter to their assignments.

"I don't think he meant right this instant, Cordana," Khadgar chides gently. She just looks at him a moment, and he once again curses her helmet, before taking up her default bodyguard position at his side. He sighs.

"I'm sorry, Khadgar," Jinks says, holding his bleeding hands away from him. Ben, back to his normal worgen form, gently takes them, deftly beginning to pick the shards out with his claws.

"Hardly your fault. I did say Gul'dan was crafty. This isn't the first time he's escaped us." Khadgar stoops slightly to pat the gnome's shoulder. "All is not lost. We already know where they're headed next. We'll regroup in Talador," he promises them. Then there's a strange tickle in the corner of his mind and he looks up sharply, frowning. He glances over the area, but whatever it was is gone now. "Why don't you check in with Delas?" He turns his attention back to the Alliance members and nods at Jink's hands. "She can help fix that up."

The smaller mage nods, wincing. "Sounds like a plan." Ben shadows him across the outpost, heading towards the moonwell.

"Khadgar." Cordana's voice is tight. She's still gripping her glaive but she's not looking at him. Khadgar suppresses a sigh. Here they go again. "Someone's here."

That isn't what he expected her to say. There's the tickle again, at the back of his mind now, and it's the familiarity of it that makes him hesitate at the pressure in the small of his back. The dagger actually pierces his robes before his reflexes kick in, instantly encasing him in a block of diamond-hard ice.

"Sorcerous coward," growls a familiar voice. A green-skinned shape flips past him, distorted by the ice. Cordana is on the figure the next second, glaive clashing against the female orc's twin daggers.

"Assassin!" The cry carries, meant to pull her Wardens and Sentinels to her. Khadgar watches, trapped until his spell wears off, as the two warriors duel. Experienced as he knows the assassin to be, it's nothing on the literal thousands of years Cordana has practiced her craft. The orc's blades go flying, unused to fighting against the unusually shaped glaive. She reacts quickly, jamming both fists forward and he can hear the air go out of Cordana's lungs. The orc leaps back, disengaging from the fight and blowing them a kiss in the process.

"Gul'dan sends his best!" She winks and throws something at the ground as Sentinels surround her. Dark smoke billows up, filling the area. Khadgar's spell finally ends, he's going to have to tweak that, and he sways slightly, cold and dazed.

"I knew it," Cordana coughs, glaive still raised as she backs up to him. "You should've stayed back at the garrison, Archmage."

"Nonsense," he replies blithely, still distracted. "I had that handled. Cool as a cucumber!"

He knows he's gotten an odd look from her at that. She turns him around to inspect his back. "You're lucky. She didn't break the skin." She shows him the daggers, covered with an oily sheen.

"Oh, yes, she's always been fond of poisons, even without Gul'dan's influence." Cordana's helmet tilts at him questioningly and he beams at her. "That was Garona. A very young Garona, but Garona all the same."

"Garona." Cordana's voice is dry. "The half-orc that befriended King Llane before murdering him in front of his son."

Khadgar sobers instantly. "Killing Llane broke her heart. It nearly broke her mind." He shuts his eyes against the memory of that night, of learning when one of his friends had killed another. "Gul'dan raised her from a child as his personal assassin. He implemented many enchantments to keep her obedient to him."

"Which is how Stormwind fell, as I recall." Cordana's voice is cold. "Her betrayal was how the humans lost the First War, was it not?"

"It wasn't her fault-"

"And now you're going to act like this Garona is the one you know? She just tried to kill you, Khadgar. She didn't seem broken up about it at all." The night elf steps into his space at her full height, several inches taller than he. "She doesn't know you."

Slowly, he nods. "You're right. That doesn't mean her mind isn't just as ensorcelled. I could sense that much."

"Khadgar," Cordana warns, drawing his name out.

He nearly singsongs his response. "She would be an excellent informant."

"Garona Halforcen is one of the greatest assassins alive. She would be just as difficult to capture as Gul'dan!"

"But!" He holds up one finger. "We have something she wants." He points at himself.

"Are you mad?"

"I have been called that occasionally, yes." He raises his eyebrows hopefully at her. "She would know a great deal about Gul'dan." He starts counting off on his fingers. "His hideouts. His forces. His plans. His-"

"Enough. I am not Maiev," she growls at him. "I am here to protect you and nothing more. If Garona threatens your life, then I shall end hers."

He stares at her a moment, considering. "Ah. Of course. I understand."He smiles sympathetically. "I suppose it would be far too difficult and dangerous for a Warden of your caliber to attempt to imprison the most famous assassin of our time."

"Your time, Archmage. I have lived for thousands of years before you and will have hundreds left after you are dead and gone. I will not be goaded by this ploy." She holsters her glaive. "This conversation is over." She snaps away from him, assuming her bodyguard stance.

He opens his mouth to protest before biting his tongue, a mulish expression on his face. It would be a lost cause to try and convince her now. It isn't the first time she's refused to speak with him, preferring to fulfill her duty by looming in his presence like some angry, fluffed owl. He isn't about to let this go, however. He owes Garona too many lives to even consider leaving her doppleganger under Gul'dan's influence. It's still Garona, the enchantments felt the same, and he frankly he couldn't forgive himself if he didn't at least try.

He just has to make sure she doesn't succeed in killing him first.

He lands in the pristine snow, raven's feet crunching it as they return to human boots. The sun is bright but the light is thin and there's a thickness to the air that he knows well.

"Khadgar." Cordana's grim voice greets him from beneath her helmet, echoing slightly. Her matte grey plate armor barely reflects the light but she draws her green cloak closed over it anyway. "I was just explaining the situation to Gorla." The orc nods to him, seemingly none the worse for wear after last nights festivities.

"Indeed. The Shadow Council is nearby and with them, Gul'dan." He looks out over the dunes. "I can feel it."

Gorla spits into the snow at Gul'dan's name. "Let's get you to Throm'var, then. Perhaps they found the clue you missed." He sees Cordana's shoulders stiffen slightly, but she follows the orc silently despite the snow. "Throm-ka!" Gorla raises a hand as they approach, greeting the hunter keeping watch at the canyon's entrance. He salutes Gorla with a fist over his heart, spine straightening, and gives a curious look to Khadgar and Cordana. They're likely the first human and elf he's seen.

"The Farseer is expecting you. This way." He turns to lead them to the village's center. Gorla follows, Khadgar at her side, while Cordana watches their backs.

Khadgar studies the villagers as they pass. There's a sense of tension in the air and more than a few faces that are surprised to see them turn to cold hostility. He overhears a few snippets of terse conversations, echoing off the rock walls, and as the ground quivers slightly a few hands come up to point fingers at them. "Commander, if you'd be so kind as to make our introductions," Khadgar says softly.

Gorla snorts. "Good to see you've got some wisdom with that grey hair." She ignores the people staring as their guide reaches the central bonfire. An old orc climbs to his feet, dressed in a blue tunic decorated with uncut gems. A shock of white hair juts from his chin matched by the white mohawk on his scalp. His right tusk is broken. Despite his age he's not frail, though he cannot seem to reach his full height. Gorla straightens her spine.

"Farseer Urquan, I am Gorla, savior of Wor'gol, Commander of the Horde." Her voice is proud and strong, carrying easily over the snow. "Durotan sends us with urgent news and orders to aid my friends in stopping a great evil."

Urquan regards them with a slow nod, no surprise on his features. Likely the wind whispered of their coming long before they arrived. "Champion of the Frostwolf clan," he replies, letting his voice carry as well, "if they are friends of yours, then they are welcome here."

At the edges of the clearing there's a few disgruntled faces as orcs turn to leave. But there are also hopeful ones and Khadgar catches more than a few words discussing the Frostwolf Champion's arrival. Gorla had been a good choice.

"Wolf-sister," Urquan continues, voice softer now. "Already word has traveled to us of your actions at Wor'gol. You have the eternal respect of the Frostwolf." He turns slightly, finding his seat again and there's an audible creak as he settles back into it. "Now, who are these strangers that you have brought to us and what is this urgent matter?"

"Greetings, Farseer." The mage bows. "I am Archmage Khadgar and this is Warden Cordana Felsong. We seek the warlocks of the Shadow Council."

The night elf steps forward. "A demonic force has infected some of the beasts in this region. We're certain the Shadow Council is involved, but we've yet to pinpoint them."

Urquan's face is grave. "We have seen this corruption you speak of. The Mother of Wolves has not been herself lately. Now, her pack has her surrounded. The wolves are protecting our hunters and will not let them near." He raises an eyebrow at Khadgar. "They're not likely to stop you, though." The shaman gives a heavy sigh and turns his attention to Gorla. "If the alpha mother is infected with this fel energy, then she must be put down. You would greatly honor the Frostwolves by returning with her corpse and giving it a proper burial."

Gorla salutes him. "It will be done."

Urquan returns it, sorrow crossing his features. "Please be swift and merciful. The Mother of Wolves is the true victim here." Khadgar frowns slightly. Slaying the Mother won't help them find Gul'dan but leaving her corrupted won't help matters, either.

She's pinned down on a rock outside of the village by five of her pack while five more lie unmoving in the snow. She's monstrously huge, even for the wolves here, and her fur is glowing and shimmering with fel, the green energy almost steaming off of her. "This is more severe than I'd imagined," Khadgar says grimly. This corruption isn't a side effect of whatever the warlocks are doing here. This was done on purpose.

"Let's make it quick." Gorla secures her shield and draws her axe. "Ready? Lok'tar ogar!" She charges through the pack, aiming for a clean strike against the Mother's neck but the fel wolf's reflexes are unnaturally fast. Khadgar Slows her as Cordana creeps around behind, joining the pack in harrying her flanks. Gorla repositions and charges in again. This time her shield connects, sending the Mother sprawling with a yelp. She staggers to her feet and mutates, fel corruption growing a ridge of spines down her back and two, muscular looking tentacles sprout from her shoulders.

She snarls, leaping at Gorla and the weight of her striking the orc's shield makes her stagger back. The tentacles reach up and over the wooden barrier to strike at Gorla's head but an arcane blast from Khadgar knocks her away. This time while she's down he freezes her feet in place. Before she can react to the ice, Gorla's on her again and her axe strikes true. The cut is deep and Cordana and the wolves pull back to see if it's enough. The Mother gives them a weak growl, then slumps into the snow.

"Easy," Gorla soothes. "Easy. It's alright." The great wolf huffs once more and then goes still. Gorla rests a hand in her green fur. "Damn warlocks," she spits, holstering her axe and shield. Around them the wolf pack creeps in, nosing at their alpha. As one, they raise their muzzles and howl. Gorla waits for them to finish before she moves to pick up the body.

"Are you alright to carry her?" The ground shakes again beneath their feet and they all stagger.

"I'll be fine, mage. Gul'dan turned my skin green long ago, what's a little more fel?"

Khadgar stares at her. Of course, the Mother's corruption would've spread to the other wolves, and eventually their riders. That had been the warlock's goal. "Gul'dan?"

She laughs mirthlessly, settling the Mother's weight across her shoulders. "I was one of the younglings he aged. Sacked Stormwind at the age of six." She turns and starts walking.

Khadgar scorches the fel blood from the ground before he and Cordana hurry after. "I'm sorry."

Gorla attempts a shrug under the weight she's carrying. "It's long done. We've all rebuilt. I hear Stormwind's walls are higher than ever. Until the dragon, anyway."

"Deathwing only damaged them, thankfully. Destruction wasn't the goal of his visit. I've heard Orgrimmar was a sight to see."

"Until the rebellion." She laughs again, a little more genuine. "Garrosh may have turned into a piece of shit, but he built great things his first year as warchief." She jerks her head. "There's the graveyard. Make a hole, mage."

Khadgar looks confused. "How- oh. That's going to be quite loud, you know."

"The ground is already shaking." It quivers again, as if on cue.

"Very well. Stand back please."

The resulting BOOM! Echoes over the snow for some time, bringing Throm'var and their wolves running. When they see the Mother being laid to rest mournful howls from wolves and orcs alike fills the air. In silence they all return to the village and the crackling warmth of Urquan's bonfire.

"It is done, then." The old orc nods knowingly at them. "Thank you for showing the Mother of Wolves her proper respects. She will be avenged." The ground shakes again, violently, rattling the tents and people alike. "Someone calm the wolves! Something has awoken Shui Halad, the Sleeper, perhaps those that may seek to corrupt her? Either way, Shui Halad must be put to rest before her thrashing collapses all of the north into the ocean. The hunters should be back when you return and we will hear what they have found about your Council."

Khadgar finds it interesting that Urquan assumes they'll do this but Gorla is already nodding. They are given wolves to ride, which Khadgar declines in favor of his raven form, and directions to the Sleeper's cave. "I hate caves," is all Gorla says before they leave. The wolves' gait eats the distance quickly and Khadgar spots the cavern from the air easily. He dives down to the entrance and the other's join him. It's a black scar in the ground, the obsidian earth sparkling darkly against the snow around it.

"I hate caves," Gorla says again, prepping her weapons. Khadgar frowns at the opening, not liking the feeling he's getting. The ground shakes. "Let's go already."

They follow her down, Khadgar's staff lighting the way. A deep voice echoes up from below. "Do you feel the power they're drawing on? (It's the naaru in Nagrand!)"

"That's Cho'gall!" Gorla snarls and runs forward. Khadgar and Cordana chase after her, the three bursting into a huge cavern.

"We should subjugate these Pale orcs and the- (Intruders! Let's leave.)"

Khadgar flares his light so they can see and Cho'gall is there, or at least an image of him. The ogre's two heads smile nastily at them, giving a little wave as the image winks out. The rest of the cavern is dominated by the monstrous armored worm at the center, towering out of the ground even taller than the gronn. Surrounding it are pale, emaciated humanoids that channel dark magic into it. The ground shakes constantly and the Pale orcs turn and hiss at the sudden light.

"On me!" Gorla shouts a battle cry and charges to the nearest white figure. The Pale use shadow magic against them, leeching at their life and minds.

"I will keep them off you," Cordana yells, cutting the orc down. "You focus on the worm!"

The fight is fierce and Shui Halad's armor is thick. Gorla and Khadgar work on weakening the plates enough to hit the soft flesh beneath while Cordana dances around them with her circular glaive, cutting down any that get too close. The shadow magic pulls at their thoughts, stroking their fears and doubts, but they've all faced the Void before. Working with Gorla, the worm falls, curling in on itself where it sticks out from the ground. The Pale scatter, fleeing from Cordana's wrath now that their prize is gone.

Khadgar crouches to inspect one of their foes. "Gorla, what are these?" Khadgar turns the Pale's head. It's eyes are as pale as its skin and lack pupils, like it can't see with them. Yet they had no trouble attacking. It's skin is almost completely white and hairless except for what seem to be ritual scars and tattoos. It has tusks like a normal orc, but it's far thinner and more wiry than even an adolescent.

The warrior shakes her head. "We'll ask Urquan. Anything I could tell you comes from stories meant to frighten children."

The sun is midday when they emerge and the wolves carry them quickly back to Throm'var. A fresh clefthoof carcass signifies the hunter's successful return but the village doesn't seem as happy about this as he would expect. They discover why as they reach the bonfire where Urquan is pacing, livid.

"I have word from my hunters," he bites out without pleasantry. "They have seen glowing green eyes in Icescar Boneyard to the west. These filthy warlocks are desecrating the dead in the boneyard." The shaman is so furious he's trembling. "I WANT THEM DEAD! Destroy the necrophytes. Destroy their demonic abominations! No creature should be subjected to what they're doing down there."

"Don't worry, Farseer," Cordana assures him. "We came solely to end their corruption. It sounds like they've conjured demonic eye sentries. We should be careful."

"Hm. If we can get the lead warlock's All-Seeing Ring, then we can use their 'eyes' against them."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

The Boneyard is about as far as the Sleeper's cave was. The entrance is between two obsidian spikes and the ground slopes sharply past them to meet the sea. The bones of many creatures rest here from giant clefthoof to the smaller wolves. And it is absolutely crawling with warlocks. They've set up summoning circles, using the wolves' skeletons to house demonic spirits. The glowing green bones patrol the area with the floating green saucer sized 'eyes'. But for all the numbers here the warlocks are inexperienced acolytes at best and fall easily before them. Ogzor, their leader, is a bit more of a challenge and Gorla bears the brunt of his fel magic before he falls.

"Are you alright?" Khadgar tries to get a look at her armor where the felfire got past her shield.

She grunts. "I'll be fine. Get your ring so we can get back to the shaman." He does as he's told, collecting the ring of blackened metal with an ugly purple stone set in it. The ride back is slower with Gorla hiding a grimace with every jolt. Urquan greets them, still angry at the Council's actions but able to see to their needs. He asks the elements' aid to soothe Gorla's wounds.

"For what they've done, it is not enough." Water and spirit swirls around Gorla, mending her flesh. "When you find their base, you salt the earth."

"Khadgar," Gorla calls. "You can find it now?"

"Yes." He's holding the ring distastefully. "I can summon one of their 'eyes' with this. We'll be able to see through it and discover where the Shadow Council is located and what they're really up to."

"What do you mean, mage? Was desecrating our animals and our graves not enough?"

"I'm afraid the Council is capable of far worse. Let's see while you finish seeing to Gorla." He summons an eye, the ring projecting an image for all to see. The fel green sphere has a purple slit down its front and as it regards them, they see their image above the ring. "Return to that which made this ring." The eye zooms away, gone in the blink of, well, an eye. The image above the ring zooms over the snow and sharp obsidian spikes, falls down a cliff, and through a cavern guarded by a purple veil of energy. He doesn't recognize where it is but Urquan breathes in sharply.

"That cave is inside the Gloomspire. Those are the ruins of Ata'gar to the west."

"Great," Gorla grunts. "More caves." The eye slows coming around a bend reveals four figures, one of them an image.

"Gul'dan is with them!" If they move quickly…

The spined orc's back is to the eye and the others are kneeling to him. "It's most of the Shadow Council. We should have killed them at the Dark Portal, consequences be damned."

"We'll catch them here, elf."

"Rise, old friends," the Gul'dan in the image speaks, his craggy voice echoing in the cave and translating oddly through the eye. The orcs and ogre stand. "The time has come for the next step of my plan. Teron'gor," he addresses the image of an orc wearing a great horned helmet. "We'll finish your Shadowmoon business together. I'm sending you to Talador. Infiltrate the Auchenai. Take control of Auchindoun. Bleed it dry."

The image bows. "It will be done, Lord Gul'dan."

"Cho'gall, I'm sending you to Nagrand. You'll subjugate the fallen naaru inside Oshu'gun."

The ogre's one-eyed head lets out a little whoop of glee and the two-eyed one answers first. "I will crush it! (The Pale are the key.)"

"All I require is its limitless power. Giselda, you stay here." The female orc salutes. "I have other plans for…what is behind me?" Gul'dan turns, staring right at them. "Eye, what are you looking at?" He grins, hands glowing with fel. "It's all fun and games until-" The image cuts out as the felbolt connects.

"We must move quickly, hopefully we can catch them all." He tucks the ring in his satchel, ignoring the attention Cordana gives the action. "How are you feeling, Gorla?"

"Like I'm ready to take some warlock heads. Let's go."

The ruins are far to the west and it takes the rest of the day to ride there. They pause on the crest of snow overlooking the pit where fel energy has melted away all the ice, baring the rock which is starting to show signs of corruption. "Remember the magical barrier?" It had been purple to the eye but Khadgar can only see it now if he enhances his vision. It looks like a shear rock wall otherwise. "It's being powered by demon crystals. The Burning Legion has a habit of making demon parts serve as the keys to such devices." He looks over the camp, letting his enhanced sight fade. "There." He points to the monstrous infernal chained to the cliffs on the northern edge. "I bet we need its heart."

"We should eliminate as many of the flunkies as we can," Cordana adds coldly, grip tightening on her glaive. "They'll scatter all over Draenor once we've dealt with Gul'dan. Every Shadow Council member we kill now is one less headache later."

"As if I need an excuse to end this filth." Gorla snorts. "Infernal first. Before they know we're here and turn it against us."

Fighting infernals is never easy. They're little more than fel-animated rocks, housing a demon spirit that laughs as they attack. Orc and elf weapons clang against it, seeking magically bound joints to try and force the creature into pieces, but it's on Khadgar to do the bulk of the work. He freezes and heats the rocks of the infernal's body repeatedly until it shatters into pieces. Its core, the heart, falls to the ground with a thump, a black sphere with green lines crackling across its surface.

Khadgar bends to pick it up, trusting his gloves to shield him from the heat and fel. "Yes, this has been attuned. There are three crystals here in the ruins. Once we destroy them the barrier will fall and we can go after Gul'dan." The crystals are easy to find. Not only are they big but fel corruption spreads out on the ground beneath them. The glow gives the ruins an eerie look as the sun sets. Near the crystals are sacrificial rocks, jutting upright from the ground. Orcs are suspended in the air in front of them, bound by chains. The warlocks have drawn their life from them, using it to make themselves more powerful.

But they're still little more than acolytes for all they know how to use it. It seems outside of the infernal, poorly summoned considering it was bound by chains, they've only learned to summon felhounds. They're most dangerous to Khadgar, able to literally eat his spells and siphon his mana, but between Gorla and Cordana they never get close enough to do so. As the last crystal breaks, the cliffwall shimmers and disappears, revealing the cave where Gul'dan waits.

"Be careful, my friends," Khadgar says as they approach. "Gul'dan is not to be underestimated no matter how prepared we might be." The passage is lit by torches as the creep forward and around the bend, just as the eye showed, is a large cavern. Gul'dan and Giselda are the only warlocks present in front of an alter, but along the far wall are more sacrificial stones, the orcs bound to them writhing in agony.

"Lok'tar ogar!" Gorla snarls and charges forward, her axe catching on one of Gul'dan's spines. A fel barrier springs to life around him, shoving her back and causing the fireball Khadgar throws to splatter to the ground.

"WHAT?!" He seems shocked to see them but a haughty look is already taking its place as Gorla's axe slides off the magic again. "I am not that easy. I won't lower myself to fight you, but," he grins, "I have an idea." He turns to the other warlock. "Giselda, my beauty, your time has come."

"What?" Giselda suddenly looks terrified and bolts but chains snap out from the altar, catching her. "No!" Gul'dan wrenches the life force from the bound orcs and they slump, lifeless. He pours fel energy into Giselda and her form swells, limbs lengthening as she grows two extra pairs of arms. Swords form in two of her hands as the chains release her, and she glares at them. Khadgar has never seen it done but Gul'dan just summoned a demon into someone, using their form to house it.

"Shivarra," he warns his companions as Gul'dan laughs, still in his protective bubble.

"Have fun dealing with this."

It's a hard battle. The demon's two blades are quick enough to parry most of their melee attacks and shivarra are skilled enough in magic, and with four free arms to counter gesture, that even his spells have trouble finding purchase. Khadgar settles on ice attacks, trying to slow her down, while he uses Atiesh to warp time for his allies, letting them all move and react faster. Gul'dan watches their every move, eyes calculating. Cordana loses her helmet, one of the blades catching its wings and sending it flying. Her silver eyes narrow angrily as the other blade gets caught in Gorla's shield. Khadgar manages to bind the demon's arms. "Now!" He can feel the demon already slipping free but Cordana uses the arm sweeping up to stop her as a springboard, vaulting high enough to reach the creature's neck. The glaive slices once and a spray of blood goes flying, painting the melee and ground. The demon gurgles something as she falls to her knees, the fel light fading from her eyes. Her form shrinks back to Giselda's as she collapses into the stone.

Gul'dan has already summoned a portal when they turn to face him, his barrier still up. "No matter," he says dismissively. "There will soon be enough felblood to make thousands for the Burning Legion. Farewell, Khadgar." Gul'dan grins at him. "We'll meet again." And he's gone.

There's a moment of silence. "Unfortunate," Khadgar pants, leaning on his staff. Gorla throws her shield aside, useless now, while Cordana searches for her helmet. "But now we know more. I can make a portal back to Throm'var when we're ready."

"I don't like that he knows you by name." Cordana scowls, her shorn head making her ears look comically big. She bends and lifts her helmet, revealing a bent wing. She tucks it under her arm. "He must have spies among us."

"Likely," Khadgar agrees as Gorla growls.

"Weak fools. Gul'dan cannot be trusted."

"Something I suspect they'll learn the hard way. In the meantime I know where to direct my spies next."

Gorla holsters her axe. "The Alliance garrison is in Shadowmoon, isn't it?"

Khadgar nods. "And Karabor, the draenei temple. They're aiding Velen there."

"Velen came?" Gorla sounds genuinely surprised and Khadgar shakes his head.

"This world's Velen. He and Yrel have been most welcoming." The mage stretches.

"Yrel...that's the draenei slave we rescued in Tanaan, isn't it? The one that killed the warlock?"

"Yes. Turns out she's a young Vindicator. She's taken up leading her people against the Iron Horde. Ready?"

"I am. Will you join us again tonight?"

Khadgar laughs as the portal winks into being. "I would, but I believe Cordana and I have matters to discuss."

The night elf nods. "We do."

"She keeps me on a tight schedule," he confides in Gorla as Cordana rolls her eyes. He wonders how often she does that when her helmet can hide it.

Gorla shrugs. "Your loss." She steps through the portal.

Cordana pauses before the gateway, arching an eyebrow at him. "You took unnecessary risks today, Archmage. Do not leave for Dalaran until we speak of this."

"Cordana-" But she's stepped through the portal.

He gets the feeling he's in for a stern lecture from the Warden.

Cordana's spy network has finally found a trace of Gul'dan's Shadow Council near Throm'var in the northern reaches of Frostfire Ridge. Cordana is watching the area while Khadgar heads to Frostwall to meet with the Horde commanders there. But when he arrives, nearly taking an arrow for his troubles, he's informed they're at a celebration to the west with the Frostwolf clan. He takes wing again, not eager to push his welcome, and heads to Wor'gol. It is dusk as he arrives and the party is well underway. Cautious after his earlier close call, he lands on a post near Kaz and caws.

The troll narrows his eyes at him and reaches over to Gorla, shoving her shoulder and nearly spilling her ale and sending her grey ponytail swinging.

"Hey! What- oh, is that you, Khadgar?" She grins, skin wrinkling around her tusks, clearly in a good mood. "Come, I'll introduce you. Frostwolves!" Those nearest turn to her as she sways and he can see the other commanders and Go'el and his family among them. "This is Khadgar, an ally of ours! Make him welcome!"

There are a few confused and concerned looks among the Frostwolves that don't recognize his raven form and more than a few gasps once he sheds it. He bows deeply immediately, trusting Gorla to stay any twitchy axes. "Throm-Ka, warriors of the great Frostwolf clan." He smiles warmly as he stands. "It is good to see you again, Chieftain."

Durotan studies him with his cool blue eyes under the wolf cowl and nods, somber. "Welcome, Archmage, to our home. You have come at a good time. Today we repelled the Iron Horde from our lands. Tonight we feast and honor our dead. You are welcome to join us."

Khadgar glances at Gorla as she finishes chugging her beer, suppressing a feeling of dismay. "I thank you for your offer, Chieftain. I would be glad to join your celebration." It's not like he'll get far with any plans tonight but at least they can start first thing in the morning.

Gorla throws her arm over his shoulder and he nearly stumbles under the weight. "That's the spirit, mage! Come and have a drink or ten! Let me stir your heart with tales of the battles we fought today!" Before he can protest powerful arms drag him to a bonfire and a mug of something potent is shoved into his hands. To his surprise it tastes of cherries and doesn't make him cough nearly as much as he expected.

Gorla regales him with the story of that day's battles while Kaz slaps his back for him. Durotan planned their strike against the Thunderlord clan for daybreak when the clan's beasts would be least alert. Nearly every Frostwolf volunteered for the assault, eager to seek vengeance for Iron Wolf's ambush that killed Durotan's father and sold his brother, Ga'nar, into slavery. Khadgar had met Ga'nar when they freed the orc in Tanaan and knew him to be a fierce, if brash, warrior. The Horde forces also joined the attack, partly at Go'el's request that they aid his father and partly because the Thunderlord allied with the Iron Horde. After a fierce fight Durotan, his mate Draka, Ga'nar, Go'el, and the commanders confronted the dying Iron Wolf only to discover he was Durotan's eldest brother, Fenris. He betrayed and killed their father, selling every Frostwolf he could catch as slaves. He laughed as he died, saying the Iron Horde was nearly there.

Shaken but with no time for rest, Durotan ordered them to Thunder Pass. It was a narrow path through the mountains, the only land route connecting Frostfire Ridge to Gorgrond. If they could hold it for long enough, the shaman Drek'thar could convince the elementals to bring the cliffs down, blocking the pass. If the Iron Horde broke through, their superior numbers and technology would wipe the Frostwolves out. The battle was vicious and for every Iron Horde grunt they killed, two more seemed to take their place. The commanders focused on taking out the larger threats. Gorla personally hacked a cannon apart by herself while Kaz kept anyone from reaching Drek'thar and interrupting his focus. For a time it seemed they would succeed.

Then the gronn arrived.

It was young, barely a thirty foot tall hunched cyclops, but still savage and dangerous. The Thunderlord had been trying to tame them and with the arrival of this one the Frostwolves learned they had succeeded. Durotan ordered all to focus on the beast and Ga'nar landed a blow in its single eye almost immediately, blinding it. Gorla kept the beast's attention, smashing its kneecap whenever Kaz or Norman hit it in a tender spot. Zi harried its backside while Kanu kept their health up. Working with the Frostwolves they finally brought the beast down.

A horn sounded Over the ridge to Gorgrond were a dozen more, supported by more cannon and what seemed like a thousand troops.

Durotan sounded the retreat. Drek'thar only needed a little more time and he and his brother would give that to him. But Ga'nar shook his head and told Durotan to keep their people safe before charging into the pass alone. He fought like a whirlwind, holding the line and cutting down any that tried to pass him. Just as he began to be overwhelmed, Drek'thar finally had enough power to bring the pass down right on the Iron Horde's heads and Ga'nar's cry of 'Lok-tar!'

"Lok-tar!" The orcs around them match the victory cry with a cheer of their own, raising mugs to Ga'nar's sacrifice.

"He fought well," Gorla says, filling her mug again.

"Prone to rage, though." Zi frowns. "He challenged Durotan to mak'gora yesterday over who would be chieftain."

Khadgar looks up from his mug, surprised. "Durotan won, I assume?"

Zi shakes her head. "He stood there and told Ga'nar to strike him down if he really thought that's what was best for the Frostwolves."

"Ga'nar changed his mind." Gorla is frowning, too, the wrinkles on her face settling deeper. The mak'gora is a sacred challenge, not to be issued lightly. "He was young, untempered. But he fought well today. His spirit will be honored."

Khadgar glances over at the larger bonfire where Durotan sits with his family and his clan. They won today, but Durotan lost both brothers in the fighting. Go'el, strange among them for his green skin, listens raptly to the Frostwolves' tales. "Has he told them yet?"

Norman surprises him by snorting and he looks back at the Forsaken. "Hardly. He acts like a Light-struck child around him."

Kanu flicks his ears. "Do you not think that appropriate, given their relationship?"

Norman shrugs his bone shoulders and keeps his voice low. "They haven't one. This Durotan has no son. He is not Go'el's father."

"That may be true," Zi says softly, "but it is as close as he will ever come." They all watch as Durotan laughs at something Go'el has said, slapping the older orc on the back.

"So, why you be here, Khadgar? You didn' come all dis way jus' to celebrate a victory you knew no'ting about." The troll is raising a curious eyebrow at him.

Khadgar dips his head in acknowledgment. "True, my friend, though you seem to have handled it well enough." His smile dims. "I have news of the Shadow Council operating near Throm'var."

Gorla spits. "Warlock filth. Not you, Norman." The Forsaken tilts his head down in acknowledgement. "What are they up to?"

"We are not certain. I was hoping one of you would accompany me in the morning to investigate and give Cordana and myself safe passage."

"I'll go. Gladly." Gorla grins, fierce in the light of the fire. "Owe those bastards plenty."

Khadgar bows gratefully. "I will be most pleased to have you. We should also let Durotan know. Frostfire is his territory now, yes?"

Gorla nods. "With the Thundermaw and the Iron Horde both driven out, yes. He'll want the Council dealt with."

"In the morning, then. For tonight, would the Frostwolves appreciate fireworks?"

"I would!" Zi bounces, nearly spilling her ale.

Gorla laughs at her. "They probably haven't seen them before. I'll ask Durotan."

"Wonderful. I'll make sure to put on quite a show."

It's a good way to make friends, after all.

"There's no sign of Garrosh?" Jaina's voice is harsh with the question, her brows furrowed. The Council of Six has met in the Chamber of Air, a room without walls and a grey stone floor with an open sky that changes above them. Khadgar's finished briefing the rest of the Council on the situation on Draenor. Officially the Kirin Tor serves the Alliance now, but most of the Council is used to being neutral parties.

Still, none are surprised at Jaina's animosity towards the former Horde Warchief.

"Not yet." Khadgar turns slightly to face her. "I'm more concerned with the whereabouts of Draenor's Gul'dan and his Shadow Council."

"Agreed." Modera is standing across from them both. "Our Gul'dan was the mastermind behind the old Horde. We all remember the atrocities they committed under him. This Gul'dan will surely not be any less cunning." Khadgar gives her a slight nod, thankful for her support.

"I propose supporting the Azerothean garrisons in their actions against the Iron Horde. But I would like the Kirin Tor to focus on finding Gul'dan. He is by far the greater threat."

"The Kirin Tor will not give aid to the Horde." Jaina looks at them fiercely. "Or have you all forgotten their treachery so quickly?"

The Council glances at each other. Vargoth speaks carefully. "It seems to me those actions were pursued under the very orc we seek on Draenor. The Horde rebelled against him for a reason."

"There is no telling how many still share his ideals," Ansirem argues.

"Then those are sympathizers the Horde shall have to deal with," Karlain says calmly. "The majority has chosen their path. Regardless, this does not affect the decision we make today: does the Kirin Tor focus on finding Garrosh or Gul'dan?"

"Wise council." Jaina nods to Karlain, looking calmer, and as their leader thumps her staff on the floor. "A vote, then. All in favor of pursuing Gul'dan?" As the older members of the Council, Khadgar, Modera, and Vargoth's hands go up immediately. They remember the old Horde sweeping across the human kingdoms well and Vargoth had even joined Khadgar on their original expedition to Outland. Karlain's and Ansirem's hands go up next. Jaina slowly raises her hand as well. "As much as I would see Garrosh brought to justice, I cannot deny your analysis of the situation, Khadgar. We will aid the Alliance in finding Garrosh and fighting the Iron Horde, but we will focus our efforts on finding Gul'dan."

"Thank you. I take full responsibility for not recognizing the danger he posed and stopping him as soon as we found him. I would lead our contingent on Draenor."

Jaina smiles slightly. "Are you not already? Of all of us, you and Vargoth know the world best."

Vargoth shakes his head. "You are welcome to lead, Khadgar. I'll go with you but I have other things I wish to investigate regarding how closely this Draenor matches the Outland we know."

"Very well." Jaina looks at the rest of the Council. "Any objections? No?" She nods to Khadgar. "We defer to you, then."

Well. That docking could have gone better.

Khadgar climbs to his feet, joined by what's left of the Alliance forces and the rescued draenei slaves.

"Sorry!" Thaelin calls out from behind them. "These blasted orc controls make no sense!"

The factions, Alliance and Horde, had each stolen a ship to flee from the Iron Horde after the destruction of the Dark Portal. No doubt even now the orcs of this world were trying to hunt them down. Thankfully the rescued slaves had offered them sanctuary: the draenei to the Alliance and the orcs of the Frostwolf Clan to the Horde. The factions had accepted, knowing better than to risk continue working together. Khadgar would check on the Horde later but for now he had gone with the Alliance to Shadowmoon Valley.

"Find a plank," Maraad calls over their makeshift army. "We need to get these people to shore."

"Archmage, you're injured," says a female voice and Khadgar looks up into the concerned glowing eyes of a draenei priest. He glances at his shoulder where an orc had been strong enough to pierce the enchantments of his robes.

"Ah, it's nothing, Asurra. See to the others first."

She smiles at him, amused. "I have. It has been a long boat ride." She raises a hand to his shoulder, warm yellow light glowing around it.

Khadgar sighs in relief as the pain starts to fade. "Thank you. I am glad you chose to join me."

A flicker of sorrow passes over the draenei's face. "How could I not? A chance to save my people from the atrocities I had to live through? Even if they are not, technically, my people." A ghost of a smile plays around her lips as she finishes her healing. "There. I regret there will be some tenderness but you will have use of it." She pats his shoulder then turns to look out over the beach as he mends his robes. "It is just as beautiful as I remember."

Khadgar steps up to join her, surveying their surroundings and watching as Maraad shepherds their forces to land. They've crashed in a small cove, boat run aground on a small sandy white beach. Several yards inward vegetation starts, more of a teal color than the green of Azeroth. The trees here have thick trunks and willowy, almost blue leaves. Further inland they become more broadleaf with purple foliage. A herd of talbuk watches them warily in the distance before its matriarch gives a snort and leads them away. There is life everywhere, a far cry from the fel-corrupted Shadowmoon Valley he knows.

"Where you born here?" he asks her, curious.

She laughs. "Oh no, I was born on the Genedar. But Draenor is the first world I stepped hoof on." She smiles fondly at land around them. "Do you know what it's like to grow up on a vessel, never knowing the earth? It was like a miracle when we landed here." A wry smile twists her lips. "Well. Crashed."

"It does seem to be a theme with you draenei," he observes mildly. She laughs and he joins her, happy they have survived to laugh. It feels good.

"Commander, Archmage," Maraad greets them, striding up with the other champions following behind. "Everyone is ashore and we have salvaged what we could."

"Maraad, please, you're practically my uncle. Call me Asurra." The Vindicator nods, his lips twitching into a brief smile before his stern countenance returns. Asurra sighs unhappily.

"Exarch Maladaar said we would be met by his people here," Khadgar reminds them all. "We are fortunate to have found him."

"There's a party coming now," Ben says, his sharp eyes catching the movement first. "Let's go meet them."

"Allow me," Khadgar says and before they can move he's teleported them all to shore.

"My thanks, Archmage," Maraad says and moves ahead.

Jinks is glaring up at the human. "I could've done that. You must be exhausted after what you pulled in Tanaan, you should be resting."

Khadgar smiles easily at the small gnome. "There is little time for that, friend. We have much to do." Jinks grumbles under his breath and hurries to move after the rest of the party. Only Asurra remains.

"I am worried about him," she says softly, looking after Maraad. "He has been so…angry since he heard the Portal had opened to this place. I fear he blames this world for the crimes of another."

Khadgar looks after the draenei as he greets this world's Prophet Velen and sighs. "I am not certain he is far off, Asurra. They were using a Soul Engine to power the Portal," he says grimly and she gasps in horror.

Then her features harden. "Garrosh has much to answer for."

"Agreed. Until then, let us get your camp set up. I have enough energy to pull through a little help from Stormwind."

------------------------------------------

Khadgar lands near Gorla and resumes his human form with a look of dismay. "You ran aground?"

The orc warrior glances back at the Iron Horde vessel and shrugs. "We ran into some of their fleet. Go'el and Kanu had to bargain with the elements just to keep the water out and get us here."

Khadgar shivers against the cold of Frostfire Ridge as he looks towards the orc shaman. He's greeting his father, Durotan, an orc he had never known. "I suppose it can't be helped," Khadgar sighs, taking a moment to enchant his robes against the wind. Gorla watches him, amused.

"If you think this is cold you're going to hate when we actually get out into the open."

"Now, now, Gorla, you can hardly blame the man," Zi says, approaching them with a laugh. "He cannot help not having fur."

"Shall I ask a fire elemental to come keep you warm?" Kanu is laughing at him, too, and even Norman has managed to have a smile on his undead face.

"Don't know 'bout Khadgar but I would like tah get out of dis cold," Kaz grumbles, the only one of them from a tropical clime. "It looks like dey ready tah go anyway." He waves a hand at the small orc conference calling their wolves to them and mounting up.

"Lead the way, then. I won't stress your troops by staying long," he knows as a human he isn't exactly welcome here, "but I will help get you settled."

They follow Durotan up a winding path, their mounts' feet crunching through the heavy snowfall. Harsh stone spikes through the snow everywhere and the ground rumbles underneath them more than once. They pass a lava flow and emerge onto a rocky outcropping over a relatively flat plain, revealing an expanse of snow and ice before them. From here they can see a glowing volcano to the far northeast and a ridge of mountains beyond that. To the northwest is a rocky ravine, snow crusted, with a herd of clefthoof plodding its way through. The sun seems small and distant but still strong enough to make the jagged obsidian spikes that stab through the snowfall glitter. Despite the harshness of the land Khadgar finds himself awed; Frostfire Ridge did not survive Draenor becoming Outland and he has seen nothing like this before.

"This terrain is ideal for a stronghold," Go'el announces, looking around them. Khadgar agrees. They have elevation to see enemies coming. The chasm to the west prevents approach and the pass behind them leads to the sea and will be easily guarded. He is nearing his limit, but he approaches the orc shaman already pulling his magic to him.

"I can open up a portal to Orgrimmar only briefly. Reinforcements are standing by, I hope?"

Go'el grins at him. "The very best."

Khadgar focuses, once again opening a path across time and space back to Azeroth. The blue edges of a portal open, the red earth of Durotar visible through the window and a warmth breath of air blows over them all.

"Somebody call for a fixer?" The small green-skinned being grins up at Khadgar, flashing a gold tooth, then quickly moves aside to let the rest of his workers through.

Khadgar sighs heavily and fixes Go'el with a skeptical look. "You're trusting a goblin to be your foreman?"

The shaman doesn't lose his smile. "Gazlowe here oversaw the construction of Orgrimmar."

"Orgrimmar!" Gazlowe beams with pride. "The impenetrable fortress!"

Khadgar raises an eyebrow at him and happily lets the portal close as the last of the team comes through. "Wasn't it recently sacked?"

The goblin immediately looks exasperated. "Yeah, yeah, okay, one little sacking," he grumbles, waving the Horde champions over to discuss how best to build their camp. Khadgar shakes his head and moves to stand next to Go'el.

"It is not his fault Orgrimmar was sieged," he says, resigned. "Garrosh brought that upon himself."

"Jaina has told me some of what happened." Go'el eyes him warily but Khadgar merely shrugs. "All I can say is thank you for answering my call."

Go'el nods. "I have seen what happens when the Horde invades Azeroth. I could not stand by and let it happen again. Too many lives were lost the first time."

Khadgar follows his hungry gaze to Durotan and hides a smile. "Agreed. I will leave you to your allies, Go'el. I have much to do."

The orc turns to him, concern across his features. "You will not stay to rest? You must be tired with all you've done."

Khadgar smiles blandly. In truth he is near exhaustion. "You know that is not wise, my friend. You and your champions may be willing to work with a human but you know many of your troops are not."

Go'el frowns unhappily. "I wish it were otherwise."

Khadgar quashes an uncharitable thought. "Perhaps someday. I will check on you later but should you need me sooner you know how to contact me. Farewell." He returns to his raven form and takes to the air.

He has one more thing to do before he can rest. The factions' bases have been decided but he will need one of his own, a neutral place where he can meet both sides on equal footing, but also one that will aid him in his work. He extends his senses, searching for a ley line to follow. He has an idea of where it will lead but he doesn't know how much the lines shifted when Draenor collapsed into Outland.

He flies south and east for what seems like hours, thankful that the raven form relies on his staff's, Atiesh, power. The terrain is strange to him, both new and familiar at once. Memories of Outland's nooks and crannies are overlaid by what they once were on Draenor. Again he is amazed by how much life is everywhere and feels a moment of sorrow for how much was lost in Draenor's destruction. The confluence he's looking for is not far from Shattrath City on Outland but here the line is leading him further east. He is almost to the sea when he finds it.

Oh. Dammit.

Of all the luck, of course the confluence is in a swamp. He sighs internally, landing on the edge of the cliff overlooking the muck. There are fungal giants below, trudging through the murky water, and fen striders carefully picking their way through on their towering skinny legs. Sporebats flit through the air from one building-sized mushroom to the next. He returns to his human form and conjures a mana bun and a glass of water, eating to regain strength as he continues to survey the area. There's a small hill rising out of the swamp that should make a decent basecamp once he clears the mushrooms from it.

But first he wants to return to Dalaran and brief the rest of the Council on what's happened. Jaina still won't be happy he's working with the Horde but he should be able to convince the rest of them to lend the Kirin Tor's aid. He takes a deep breath of the musty air and borrows from the ley lines' power to fuel his spell. He just has to teleport himself this time, granted across time and space, but he should be able to manage this.

He vanishes.

King Varian Wrynn looks up as the raven lands on his throne room floor, one hand going to his sword, Shalamayne, until the bird transforms. "Khadgar," he says, relaxing. "You've returned. What news?"

The mage does not look happy. "Nethergarde Keep has fallen and the Iron Horde has taken Okril'lon Hold for their own. Maraad was planning a strike when I left." He looks troubled. "The Portal has been redirected. It still leads to Outland, but the time is different."

"Garrosh," Varian growls, his scarred face growing fierce.

Khadgar nods. "And Kairoz. It must be where- when they fled to." He frowns thoughtfully. "It leads to Draenor, then, not Outland. It would explain the orcs' brown skin."

"Maraad suspected he's altered the forming of the old Horde and created this Iron Horde instead."

"And is using it to take vengeance on Azeroth for defying him. He must have had years to plan this. The Iron Horde seems to have endless resources. The numbers coming through the Portal haven't slowed once." He looks at Varian. "We must stop them. Even if they're not fel-fueled, we know what happened the last time a Horde invaded Azeroth."

"You cannot close the Portal again?" Varian asks with dismay.

"Not from this side."

The king sighs. "We are still recovering from our siege on Orgrimmar but Maraad has already convinced me to sign the declaration of war. I will give you what aid I can and we'll put out the call to arms." He smiles grimly. "I'm sure there are many who remember the First War."

"You should know, I plan to ask the Horde for aid as well," Khadgar says carefully.

Varian's eyes narrow. "You better have a good reason."

"You said yourself the Alliance is still recovering. The first Horde invasion nearly destroyed our world. Who better to help stop it than the descendants of that invasion?"

"You play a dangerous game, Khadgar." Varian frowns. "Very well. Seek aid from the Horde, but be cautious. Garrosh may still have sympathizers among their ranks."

Khadgar bows. "Thank you, King Wrynn."

----------------

"What's the plan, Khadgar?" The green skinned orc shaman glances down at him, then returns to watching the Portal. The factions' combined forces have cleared the Iron Horde from their stolen strongholds and pushed them back to the Portal's opening. But even now brown skinned orcs pour through only to be met by the warriors of Azeroth.

"Now we wait, Thrall," Khadgar says with a sigh.

"Go'el," the orc reminds him gently.

"Right, sorry. I will remember eventually." He gives the orc an apologetic smile. Go'el had recently learned the name his parents called him before they'd been murdered when the shaman was just a babe. He'd given up the human-given 'Thrall' to claim it. "There has been much on my mind. Tell me of your champions?"

Go'el nods and points out the five heroes Warchief Vol'jin has sent to assist them. Gorla, an orc warrior, the tauren shaman Kanu Cloudchaser, the Forsaken warlock Norman Farnsley,a pandaren monk named Zi Swiftfist, and Kaz, a troll hunter. He is somewhat surprised to see Lady Liadrin join them as well but the blood elves also have history with Outland. "Who has the Alliance sent?"

Khadgar names the Alliance champions: Shinrea Shadeleaf, the night elf SI:7 agent he met earlier, Asurra, a draenei priest Khadgar knows from Shattrath, Balinor Highforge, a dwarf paladin, Jinks Boomfizzle the gnome mage, and Benjamin Griffin, a young worgen druid. And of course, Vindicator Maraad who fought the old Horde before it had ever invaded Azeroth. Go'el nods in acknowledgment. He has worked with some of them before.

"And the Warden?"

Khadgar smiles with some hidden amusement. "Cordana Felsong. Maiev sent her to bodyguard me, though I think she's here to make sure there isn't another Illidan through the Portal." Go'el snorts in amusement as well.

Both factions have sent troops and there has been an uneasy truce between the soldiers. Word has spread that Garrosh Hellscream is responsible for the Iron Horde invasion and many on both sides are eager to make the former Horde Warchief pay. Twice now, the troops grumble, the orc has evaded justice. Twice now he has attacked all of Azeroth. Zi, in particular, seems eager to meet Garrosh in battle and Khadgar cannot blame her. It was the pandaren's homeland Garrosh ravaged.

"Champions!" Khadgar calls, amplifying his voice magically to catch their attention. He waits for them to gather around him. "I thank you all for answering the call to arms. All of Azeroth remembers well the last invasion through this Portal." A few dark looks are sent from Alliance members to Horde. "I have once before stopped such an invasion and with your help we will do so again. We must travel through the Dark Portal and sever the Iron Horde's tie to it from the other side." He smiles at them mischievously. "Now the last time this happened I wasn't seen for twenty years but I assure you I've taken precautions! Once the Iron Horde has been dealt with you will all be able to return home again." There are nods and smiles all around except from Norman who can't seem to move his face very well.

"You are Azeroth's strongest champions," Khadgar says solemnly. "Destroying the Portal may be the only way to save our world. Go, prepare your troops, and be ready to charge at a moment's notice!"

The champions cheer and spread out to return to their preparations. Go'el, Maraad, and Khadgar watch the Portal for their chance.

Khadgar couldn't believe his eyes and barely remembered to flap his wings and stay afloat. The summons he had received had mentioned the Dark Portal turning red and a few strange orcs with brown skin instead of green slaying those sent to greet them. Survivors said they called themselves the Iron Horde. Even with that ominous, familiar name nothing could have prepared him for what he now saw.

It was like the First War all over again.

The dusty red earth of the Blasted Lands was dotted with the brown skinned orcs, their numbers swelling as he neared the Portal until the ground seemed to swarm with their black armored forms. Splitting the crowd were various machines of war, strange immense cannons the like of which he had never seen and smaller machines that bore the marks of goblincraft.

Where had these orcs come from?

Alarmed he wheeled, turning his raven form towards Nethergarde Keep. He could see it smoking even from here and his heart ached for what he would find. Over twenty years ago he'd proposed building the stronghold and lived there for a time helping to keep watch over the Dark Portal should the Horde, the old Horde, ever return. Two years in this desolate place praying the Portal would remain shut.

Now the proud walls that had helped defend against the old Horde's second incursion lay in shambles. The forge stood but still and silent. The barracks had been burnt to the ground and he could see the quartermaster's corpse run through in front of it. The central fort stood, a pile of dead Nethergarde warriors, mostly humans, piled haphazardly in front. Iron Horde orcs crawled over everything.

He had known people here. The grief in his heart spiked to fury. He longed to land and blast them all back to wherever they had come from but he knew that would be wasting time. Instead he smoothed his feathers and turned towards the Portal, intent on inspecting it to determine what the Iron Horde had done. He landed on the massive archway of the Portal itself, examining its magic. Strange. The dimensional anchors were intact; the Portal should still lead to Outland. Puzzled he followed the old links of fel and arcane power and found something new between them. Something gritty.

Time magic. Someone had hijacked the other end of the portal and whatever Outland was on the other side of it was not the one he knew. Even worse the magic was being fueled there. He couldn't close the Portal from this side. There were very few mages capable of such a feat and Khadgar suspected he knew exactly which one to blame. Flaring his wings, he dropped from the archway and glided towards the Alliance camp, hoping to touch base with Maraad before he left. As he flew he saw a dark-haired gnome on a low hill, dressed in the black leathers of SI:7, peering through a telescope towards the Portal herself. In his haste he almost missed the two orcs creeping up behind her.

He dived immediately, determined to save at least one person today. He landed, returning to human just as the first hulking orc grabbed the tiny gnome's hair. He raised a hand, drawing arcane power to him and released the blast. It caught the orc full in the chest as he finished slicing open the gnome's throat.

Light damn him!

A low chuckle came from behind him. "Too slow, mage," the second orc said in his native tongue. He barely had a moment to look surprised before he caught Khadgar's second arcane blast.

He had failed.

"Pazerp!" a voice called frantically. "Pazerp!" A blue haired lavender skinned night elf in black leathers crested the hill atop a nightsaber, hand flying to her mouth as she saw them. "Archmage! Oh no..."

Khadgar shook his heard at her sorrowfully as she dismounted. "I was a moment too late. Your scout is dead." He turned to look out over the swarming Iron Horde. "This is worse than I could have imagined. The Iron Horde invasion has begun. Take a look for yourself." He gestured to the gnome's telescope, still on its tripod. The night elf stepped forward and she turned pale at what she saw.

"I must inform Maraad at once," she told him. Mouth fixing in a grim line she bent to gather up Pazerp.

Khadgar nodded. This would save time. "And I must tell King Wrynn. Keep alert, agent. Dark times lay ahead." He returned to his raven form and took wing.

He should message the Horde as well, those descendants of the old Horde that had first invaded Azeroth over twenty years ago. The old Horde had nearly wiped out all known civilization when it had arrived and neither modern Horde nor Alliance could ignore this new Iron Horde now.

Whenever it was coming from.

Yay, reference material.

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Archmage Khadgar

January 2020

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Knowledge is Power

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Talador: Redemption Rise

Gorgrond: Beastwatch, one week later

Gorgrond: Beastwatch

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Shadowmoon Valley: Starfall Outpost

Frostfire Ridge: Seeking Corruption

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Dalaran: Council Meeting

Digging In

Preparations

The Dark Portal

OOC: Excerpts from Chronicle Vol. 1