Andreas had already braced himself for a fight with Algalon, so Elune's sudden appearance was rather unexpected.
"How rare; the great Moon Goddess has stepped out of her voyeuristic shell to intervene in person."
Andreas' teasing jest earned a displeased sniff from Elune.
"I came out to help you, and this is how you thank me?"
Andreas said with a laugh, "Fine, I solemnly thank you—at the very least it spared us an unnecessary battle."
Living beyond the material world, Elune has few entertainments; most of the time she watches events on Azeroth through the eyes of her two chosen.
As Andreas puts it, he and Tyrande are like two live-streaming cameras, while Elune is the couch-potato viewer sitting before dual monitors, cola in hand, happily watching… "Eh?!"
Forgetting he was in direct mental contact with Elune, Andreas' stray thoughts were instantly sensed by the Moon Goddess, her irritation flooding straight into his mind.
"Uh—okay, my imagination ran away with me."
"Hmph!"
Normally Elune doesn't speak directly to Andreas, nor does she perceive his thoughts; sensitive images are automatically censored by protocols she set in place.
Confirming the mental link had withdrawn from his soul, Andreas quietly exhaled.
'She's changed so much these ten millennia; once a noble, gentle goddess, now a binge-watching ordinary girl. Could that be my fault?'
Across the cosmos of Azeroth, Elune is the only being who knows Andreas' true origin… deity or otherwise.
Through ten thousand years of Andreas' intermittent explanations, Elune's understanding of Earth's living standards and diverse entertainment has deepened—and so has her influence.
As Azeroth's guardian deity, Elune actually has little to do; most of the time she merely watches in silence.
Occasionally she acts as interpreter for Azeroth's world-soul, translating its whispers into language Mortals can understand and relaying it to Andreas.
According to her, the Dark Void has been relatively calm in recent years.
The void lords still sit beyond the material world, observing the cosmos, while the Burning Legion—bent on universal destruction—remains holed up on Argus after its recent heavy losses and other complications.
This external lull is Azeroth's best chance to purge internal threats; Yogg-Saron's fall means one hidden peril fewer.
Retaking Ulduar returned the Forge of Wills to the Keepers; purifying it of Yogg-Saron's corruption will take time, but once done both cradles that accelerate the world-soul's maturation will be ready.
As the Pantheon predicted, once Azeroth's world-soul matures she will become the mightiest Titan ever—even Sargeras will be no match.
With the void armies and entities like Elune barred from direct interference in the material realm, Titans are the strongest beings in physical reality.
And as the finest among them, once Azeroth hatches the void lords' schemes for the material universe will collapse.
Yet even Elune cannot calculate how long Azeroth will need to grow from world-soul into a full-fledged Titan.
Until then, every Mortal of Azeroth must guard her, removing anything that might hinder the world-soul's growth.
Meanwhile, the ever-watchful Burning Legion cannot be underestimated.
Sargeras has already captured most Titan souls, including Amanthul; only Eonar escaped, shielded by her kin.
Eonar is now the Pantheon's last hope, but there is little a mere soul can do.
Were a Mortal to carry her blessing it would help, yet her hiding place remains unknown—even the Legion is still searching.
After Elune "convinced" Algalon, the Observer fled Azeroth as if prodded from behind, streaking into the starry Dark Void as a brilliant blue meteor.
Only then was Ulduar's crisis truly over, and the Great Guardian finally exhaled in relief.
"It's finally done."
Loken knelt and held the eye of amanthul out to Andreas; the Pillars of Creation, sized for a Keeper, swiftly shrank.
Andreas was startled. "Is this wise? The Pillars are mighty relics the Pantheon left for the Keepers; shouldn't you keep them?"
Loken shook his head. "The next few years are predictable: we'll remain in Ulduar to restore the Titan city's glory, prioritizing the purification and restart of the Forge of Wills."
"Since we won't leave Ulduar or fight within the foreseeable future, the Pillars serve no purpose with us; better they be put to full use by Mortals."
Knowing Mortal limits, Loken realized that—apart from a few demigods like Andreas and Velen—ordinary Mortals cannot wield the Pillars freely, preventing misuse.
Over ten millennia the Pillars were only used in world-shaking crises… Andreas' tear of Elune excepted, of course.
Reading Loken's resolve, Andreas at last nodded and accepted the Eye.
"Very well. Mortals will safeguard the Pillars for now; I swear they will never be used in Azeroth's internal strife."
With Ulduar's crisis ended, every Keeper—save Eonar watching the Forge of Origination—gathered once more in Ulduar's Great Hall.
At the Great Guardian's urging, Hodir and the others handed their Pillars to Andreas.
Per Loken's plan, Ulduar will be semi-sealed for years while Storm Peaks rebuilds; the Titan-forged will clean up Loken's mess.
Every living Titan Keeper is now present—save one.
Speaking of that exception, Loken looked troubled; as co-supreme stewards of Azeroth, the Great Guardian knew his irascible colleague all too well.
"Odyn has made many mistakes, but after tens of thousands of years of punishment I believe he's learned his lesson; it's time to release him and let him resume his duties."
Although Odyn was ultimately brought down by Loken and Helya's joint plot, if you set aside Yogg-Saron's seduction of Loken, more than eighty percent of the blame for Odyn's fate lies squarely on his own head.
Compared with Tyr, who was tolerant and accepting of Mortals, Odyn always regarded anything outside the Titan-forged with suspicion.
The emergence of the Dragon Aspects greatly displeased him, but once the Pantheon agreed to the other Keepers' plea and bestowed draconic guardianship, he could only pinch his nose and accept it.
Yet Odyn refused to abandon his stubborn ideals; he resolved to forge a mighty Titan-forged army of his own—the Valarjar.
The first Valar were born from no heroic fairy-tale of heroes and beauties; it was a cruel and utterly inhumane distortion.
Odyn coveted the souls of valiant fallen Vrykul, and to house these souls and train them into mightier Valar warriors, he had to usurp a portion of authority from the Shadowlands.
To that end, Odyn asked his most beloved adopted daughters—two Vrykul women of prodigious arcane talent—whether such a thing was possible.
Just as Thorim and Loken had developed feelings for the Vrykul, Odyn had invested emotion in them as well, though unlike their melodramatic soap opera, Odyn's affection was familial.
He took two gifted Vrykul witches as foster-daughters; the sisters were named Eyir and Helya.
Both sisters possessed extraordinary arcane aptitude, yet their temperaments differed like night and day.
Eyir was the steadier of the two, while Helya proved the more rebellious, yet both revered their foster-father, the mighty chief administrator Odyn.
Under Odyn's questioning, Helya and Eyir spent a long time researching before finally devising a workable plan.
Snatching the souls of fallen Vrykul from the Shadowlands required some sleight-of-hand: a special being, half-soul and half-physical, would guide and solidify the spirits of the Valar; the sisters dubbed such beings Val'kyr.
Up to this point Odyn remained calm, and his discussions with the two foster-daughters stayed harmonious.
But Val'kyr could, at first, be created only from powerful Vrykul witches, and here the rift between foster-father and daughters began to widen.
The prudent Eyir accepted the vital task Odyn bestowed, consenting to transform into the first Val'kyr so she might continue aiding her foster-father in another form.
The rebellious Helya, however, flatly refused; as co-designer of the Val'kyr, she knew too well how twisted the creatures would be.
Such spectral entities were not truly alive; all the delights of the living were forever beyond them, a punishment Helya found intolerable.
Odyn was already irritable over the Dragon Aspects' creation; Helya's constant defiance contrasted starkly with Eyir's compliance.
Weary of endless coaxing, Odyn—after one final fruitless debate—lost patience and struck Helya by surprise, forcibly warping her soul into the very first Val'kyr.
All sensation of the world slipped away from her; Helya screamed and struggled, yet under Odyn and Eyir's suppression she caused no ripple.
At last Helya resigned herself to fate, working tirelessly with Eyir to guide Valar warriors and erect the first halls of what would become Valhalla.
Yet the resentment and grief buried in Helya's heart never truly faded—they only waited for a chance to erupt.
Loken, the Prime Designate of Wisdom, excelled at reading hearts; he sensed Helya's discontent, and after long persuasion convinced her to help him overthrow Odyn, imprisoning him within the very halls he had built to suffer endless solitude and regret.
Helya and Loken succeeded; with Helya as inside help, Odyn and the core Valar of Valhalla were bound within their own stronghold without warning.
The floating complex severed from Ulduar was sealed away from the physical world, and that potent seal would hold until both Loken and Helya perished.
Odyn's sudden departure from Ulduar was, under Loken's information control, a mystery to the other Keepers.
They assumed Odyn had left in protest against the Dragon Aspects, and under Loken's glib tongue they quickly lost interest in the chief administrator whose views now clashed with their own.
Only one Keeper doubted Loken's tale: the Keeper known as the Guardian of Justice—Tyr.
The battle of wits between Loken and Tyr could fill three days and nights; for now, let us return our gaze to Helya.
After sealing Odyn and Eyir, Helya—finally free of her burdens—led a portion of the Valar who would follow her and carved out a pocket dimension.
She made it her sanctuary, determined to raise a Valar army in her own way, distinct from Odyn's vision.
But Helya overestimated her own will; the bitterness of her forced transformation gnawed at her, and over time that festering hatred warped her entire worldview.
The corrupted sub-realm became known to Stormheim's locals as Helheim, and her Valar degenerated into the kelp-covered Helagar of popular dread.
In Vrykul belief, only the most depraved souls sink into Helheim, while true heroes are borne to Valhalla by Odyn's Val'kyr.
Though Vrykul legend adds a generous dose of myth, that is essentially how things stand.
The fallen enter Helheim, where the ever more hideous Helya drives them, spurred by hatred for the living.
She even built a ghostly vessel, Naglfar, whose Helagar crew raid the coasts, seizing the souls of dead Vrykul to swell their ranks.
When Valhalla was sealed, many Val'kyr were still in the physical realm fulfilling their duties.
Cut off from their home, they nevertheless continued to ferry valiant Vrykul souls to Valhalla through the special soul-path Odyn had opened.
Over millennia these homeless Val'kyr became living proof of Valhalla's legends across Stormheim.
Local Vrykul faith in Odyn grew purer than elsewhere, and even the Val'kyr—Odyn's divine messengers—came to be revered.
An all-female Vrykul Clan even instituted a selection rite bearing the Val'kyr name; those who passed the trials could be transformed into new Val'kyr, the highest honor a Vrykul could attain.
Long before Odyn's imprisonment, Loken had already journeyed south to guard the Forge of Wills, knowing nothing of events in Ulduar.
When Andreas returned with the aegis of aggramar after enduring Yotnar's endless trials, he brought word of Stormheim's millennia-spanning developments to Loken.
Vrykul legends are prone to exaggeration; relying on his own memoranda, Andreas winnowed truth from bombast.
Loken had long known Odyn's iron-fisted ways, and now saw the old colleague had finally overplayed his hand.
Andreas had no quarrel with Loken's request; Odyn would have to be freed sooner or later anyway.
"Fine, I'll find time to visit Stormheim—though there are still a few preparations to finish first."
Odyn's combat power should be on the same tier as Loken, a notch above the other Keepers.
As the chief manager in charge of war, Odyn's limit is faintly higher than Loken's, though the gap between the two is not large.
With Odyn's help the fight against N'Zoth would be far more certain; the only thing Andreas worries about is Odyn's rotten temper and contempt for flesh-and-blood beings.
Still, judging by patch 7.0, Odyn—though proud—is much less savage and irascible than the chronicles described; evidently millennia of confinement in Valhalla has worn down his sharper edges.
With Loken's death the seal on Valhalla has loosened; at the very least Odyn should now be able to project an avatar into Stormheim.
To fully unlock Valhalla, Hela—who maintains the other corner of the seal—must be defeated as well.
Perhaps warped by the death-tainted air of the Shadowlands, Hela's conduct has turned ever more sinister; the once-idyllic sub-dimension has become the stinking, foul Abyssal Depths.
Hela, however, has not idled away these millennia. Already the most famed witch among the Vrykul, she has further perfected her death magic.
It's hard to say whether Hela or the Lich King is the stronger soul-stealer; as a being worthy of the title Death God, Hela enjoys overwhelming power within the Abyssal Depths—a realm only souls may enter.
Without a being of comparable might to stabilize and suppress Hela's domain, even Andreas would not boast certain victory in the Abyssal Depths.
Conveniently, Andreas knows another death god—loa of death Bwonsamdi.
Though he seems flippant and frivolous, earlier intelligence from Rezan attests that Bwonsamdi is a loa who honors contracts.
Once a bargain is struck he will do his utmost to fulfill it.
So, provided Andreas can offer terms that satisfy Bwonsamdi, the loa should be willing to help in the coming battle for the Abyssal Depths.
But first the state of war with the Zandalari Empire must be ended, so Bwonsamdi can be hired without worries… With the civil war in Ulduar over, Jarod's Northern Expedition has also swept the last of Loken's remnants from the Storm Peaks.
Committing all three flying fleets against N'Zoth at once was a risky gambit.
As soon as the war ended Jarod began redeploying his forces.
The rookie Fourth Fleet, patrolling Kalimdor, returned to Northrend for further training, while the Third Flying Fleet stayed in Suramar to monitor developments.
The First Flying Fleet resumed homeland defense patrols, and the Second Flying Fleet sailed back to Suramar to berth.
Maiev came with the Second Fleet to Suramar, briefing Archmage Elisande on Andreas' upcoming military plans and returning the eye of amanthul and the hammer of Khazgoroth to the Nightborne and the Highmountain Tauren.
The aegis of aggramar was obtained through Andreas' own strength and wit; in theory it now belongs to him.
Unless the Keepers explicitly reclaim it, he retains long-term right to the holy shield.
The same applies to the Tidestone of Golganneth.
Yet carrying three Pillars of Creation is simply foolish; even a demigod suffers strain wielding so many artifacts.
Andreas keeps the familiar tear of Elune bound to himself, entrusts the Tidestone to the newly ascended demigod Shandris, and
enshrines the aegis of aggramar in the Great Moon Temple, awaiting Malfurion's or Tyrande's breakthrough before deciding its allocation.
Speaking of Tyrande, the high priestess' retreat has surprised Andreas somewhat.
He had assumed Malfurion would advance first, but Tyrande has backers upstairs as well.
According to Elune, Tyrande stands only one step from demigodhood—roughly level with Malfurion.
After Yogg-Saron's fall N'Zoth immediately pulled back his claws, and unrest in the Emerald Dream subsided.
Now both Malfurion and Tyrande are in seclusion; even Elune cannot say who will breach the Mortal threshold first.
The outcome matters little to Andreas—whichever of the old couple wields the aegis, it's still passing from one hand to the other.
Below Malfurion and Tyrande, the three closest to demigod status are Archdruid Fandral Staghelm, High Inquisitor Maiev Shadowsong, and Celeste Sunstrider—who is currently at home playing with her son.
As for Jarod… forget him; the genius commander's personal combat strength is an embarrassment beside his tactical brilliance.
After Fandral's trio come the outstanding middle generation—Leticia and Vastann, followed by Aurora and the rapidly improving Niana.
Overall, though Night Elves still struggle with population growth, their old-middle-young training ladder is solid, with leaders in every age group.
And thanks to limitless lifespan, the older generation led by Andreas can remain active for a very long time.
Back in Astranaar, Andreas first conferred with members of the High Council in the Great Moon Temple.
'When this war ends we'll gain another breathing spell; before Xal'atath wakes we can deal with other matters and leave N'Zoth for last.'
Fandral's gaze rested on the statue of Elune, where an ancient shield floated and slowly rotated.
Maiev nodded. 'Are we to settle hostilities with Zandalar first? From your tone it sounds as if you don't intend to send troops?'
'Exactly.' Andreas smiled. 'Zandalar's main force was buried in the Valley of Emperors in Pandaria; even they will feel that sting.'
'Prophet Zul's death is also a blow to God-King Rastakhan; I reckon Zandalar won't bare its claws again for several years.'
Andreas tapped the area around Dazaralor on the map. 'Since large-scale conflict is unlikely for now, we'll rely on diplomacy as much as possible.'
'Who will volunteer to go to Zandalar? I'll add Shandris to the envoy party.'
Now a member of the Azerothian Demigod Council, Shandris can ensure both safety and deterrence unless Zandalar is mad enough to swarm her with high-tier loa.
Should Zandalar truly court death, Shandris could unleash the Tidestone and drown the whole island beneath endless tides.
'Then let me go.'
Fandral drew his gaze from the aegis of aggramar, stood up, and stretched.
'You've all been busy outside lately; rest here in Astranaar for now. I'll visit in the name of the Cenarion Circle—giving Rastakhan a graceful way out.'
As a far-sighted monarch, Rastakhan's reluctance to sue for peace with the Night Elf Republic after his defeat was mainly because he couldn't swallow his pride. He wanted the multi-front Night Elves to be the first to bow, so he could then take the easy way out.
Andreas had no intention of indulging him; sending an envoy this time was actually meant to threaten Zandalar. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dispatched a Demigod-Level Weapon carrying the Pillars of Creation to back up the show.
Fandral's proposal was a sound one. He, representing the neutral Cenarion Circle as chief mediator, and Shandris, representing the Night Elf Republic's official pressure—two-pronged—would at least let Rastakhan keep some face.
After discussing with Maiev and the others, Andreas decided to adopt Fandral's suggestion. It also gave the old stag-helmed veteran, long confined to home, a chance to stretch his legs… Recently, with Celeste pregnant and a new family member born, Aurora had shuttled repeatedly between Silvermoon City and Astranaar.
After long deliberation and family discussion, Aurora finally resigned as Quel'Thalas ambassador, returning to Astranaar to serve temporarily as her father's secretary.
Of course, Aurora's main consideration was to be near her family—especially her newborn baby brother.
Given the Night Elves' hopeless fertility rate, most grow up as only children.
At last she had a chance to… er, help her little brother grow up; Aurora refused to miss it.
The Quel'Thalas ambassadorship had been very leisurely, but over the years it still gave Aurora plenty of political experience.
Andreas promoted Feren, former vice-envoy to Quel'Thalas, and—on the recommendation of the soon-to-depart Fandral—selected a new vice-envoy to Quel'Thalas.
Under the family's attentive care, little Sirius's intellectual growth was rapid.
By the time Fandral and Shandris had formed their delegation and set out for Zandalar aboard a Civilian Airship, the half-year-old toddler could already babble "Mama" and "Papa."
Most babies start to babble at nine or ten months; Sirius was developing far faster than Andreas had expected.
Celeste helped her son toddle across the garden lawn. Watching from his study, Andreas couldn't help smiling.
"Dad, focus, please?"
Aurora slapped the documents on the desk and, deliberately blocking the garden window, intoned, "I want to play with my brother too. Let's finish the work quickly so we can knock off early."
"Yes, yes…"
Compared with the biting winds of Storm Peaks, the ever-spring afternoon of Astranaar made Andreas drowsy; this long-lost peace relaxed nerves taut for years.
Azeroth could hardly be called completely tranquil—local conflicts still flared here and there.
Case in point: the report from Northrend now in Andreas' hands.
After years of recuperation, with no powerful external enemies, the Orc population had soared; across the vast Borean Tundra, Orc villages and herding parties were everywhere.
Though cooler than parts of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, the hardy Orcs cherished this hard-won new homeland.
Freed from demonic blood, the Orcs under Go'el behaved quite peacefully; still pioneering, they had no urgent outward expansionist drive.
Yet as Warchief, Go'el had to plan ahead and find new lands for the Horde.
Dragonblight to the east was unthinkable—Go'el wouldn't court death by provoking the Dragon Aspects.
Apart from Dragonblight, the only land adjoining Borean Tundra was Sholazar Basin to the north.
With Freya's return, this Titan laboratory theoretically fell back under her jurisdiction.
But Freya and the other Keepers were busy purging Ulduar and Storm Peaks; they had no time yet to reclaim Sholazar.
Only a handful of Night Elf druids dwelt in the basin, mainly to study its unique ecology, so unlike the outside world.
Andreas thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Go'el is asking us to open access to Sholazar?"
"Yes."
Aurora reported solemnly, "The Horde Warchief's posture is very respectful. He contacted us through proper channels, hoping to obtain land for expansion that the Night Elves don't need inside Sholazar."
"Mm…"
After a pause Andreas said, "Tell him the truth: we're only tenants in Sholazar. Once Freya decides to reclaim the basin, everyone must move out unconditionally."
"If he accepts that uncertainty, I've no objection to letting the Orcs explore Sholazar."
Night Elf numbers were limited; holding vast tracts of Kalimdor and the Broken Isles, their need for land was small.
Moreover, the Cenarion Circle is a neutral international organization; it has no right to bar others from territory that doesn't belong to it.
"Leave the final say to Freya. Sholazar isn't vital to us; we only need to guard the passage to Wintergrasp."
Wintergrasp was a major source of Titansteel. After years of research and mining, the Night Elves had confirmed Titansteel as Azeroth's best material for Starship hulls—this frozen lake region must not be lost.
The Cenarion Circle had been in Sholazar and Un'Goro for years, thoroughly studying both ecosystems.
The druids who remained in Sholazar did so by personal choice, observing unique flora and fauna and hoping to turn their findings into publishable results for promotion within the Circle.
As an honorary councillor, Andreas had for years offered Malfurion many reform proposals.
One was to create separate advancement tracks for combat druids and scholar druids, spurring their ambition.
Take Valley-Runner Farodin, who cultivated the Miracle-Tree Arkandor: a quintessential scholar druid. Expecting him to out-fight his old comrade Vastann would be asking too much.
As Nalath Academy graduates became elites of the Night Elf Republic, higher education in relevant fields began drawing social attention.
Seizing the moment, Andreas gave the lackadaisical Night Elf academic world a shot in the arm, providing fuller promotion channels.
A druid-scholar who produces research rated highly by the Cenarion academic board will see both funding and status within the Circle rise.
Sentient beings instinctively compare themselves; apart from a few slackers, no one dislikes climbing higher.
The new academic incentives fired up scholars. Whether in Moonshadow's Rest's university town or field sites across the world, Night Elf researchers—druid or not—labored earnestly.
Until the Orcs showed aggression, Andreas had no intention of accusing them on trumped-up charges. Under Go'el, the Horde had indeed demonstrated sincerity in pursuing peace with Azeroth's races.
By contrast, the ascendant Alliance's internal situation was rather amusing.
"Oh?"
After skimming Aurora's document, Andreas' face wore an almost-smile.
"So it's finally begun? The Duel Of The Two Kings."
Having led the Night Elf Republic for thousands of years, Andreas was an old fox, and he had to admit he'd misjudged her at first.
Like most people, he'd assumed Jaina was merely a pampered princess raised in a greenhouse, yet the self-memory-sealed Jaina was steadily revealing the makings of a sovereign. Her subtle, silent methods left Andreas quietly amazed.
Leaving aside whether her initial love-at-first-sight for Rhonin was genuine, the two were now utterly devoted to each other, living in blissful happiness.
From this angle, Rhonin's "true-fragrance" decision hadn't been wrong after all.
Rhonin was a rising star of Dalaran favored by Antonidas, possessing outstanding potential among human mages. In the current Dalaran, only the new Kirin Tor Archmage Jaina Proudmoore and Councilor Khadgar could be mentioned in the same breath.
Archmage Antonidas finally handed the office of Archmage to his closed-door disciple Jaina last year and happily retired.
The old mage who had lived through the First War found himself unable to keep pace with the times.
The world was changing too fast; the mindset of the older generation no longer suited the current international climate.
Antonidas did not cling to power. Once Jaina had matured sufficiently, he unhesitatingly left the future to the new generation of outstanding mages for Dalaran's sake.
Yet Antonidas did not fade away. According to intelligence from Prisim's scouts in Dalaran, the venerable archmage continued using Arcane magic to extend his life and kept himself busy after retirement.
Recently he accepted an invitation from a mysterious figure and is energetically preparing for something.
Andreas didn't know what Antonidas was up to, but he trusted the wise old mage would never do anything harmful to Azeroth.
He ordered Prisim to keep watch and temporarily shifted his gaze away from Dalaran, turning back to Lordaeron.
With Rhonin, a Dalaran-born archmage, serving as a bond between the two nations, the rebuilt Lordaeron maintained excellent cooperation and trade with its neighbor, even surpassing the past.
Jaina's initiative to cede western Tirisfal Glades now looked like a brilliant move.
Though some territory was lost, Lordaeron avoided direct conflict with Gilneas, shifting the territorial dispute to the Kingdom of Gilneas and the kingdoms of Alterac.
By now Brunhilde also found herself on the horns of a dilemma; Silverpine Forest's land had been badly tainted by death energies, and reclaiming it would consume considerable resources.
Moreover, a pack of werewolves from nowhere recently rampaged through the forest, raiding camps belonging specifically to the Kingdom of Gilneas and Alterac.
Though not one-hundred-percent certain, after Brunhilde and Alex exchanged views they agreed these werewolves were most likely connected to Gilneas.
And indeed they were: leading the pack was none other than the wolf-pack chieftain Yva.
The wily Wolf-King Genn re-annexed Silverpine Forest into Gilneas, promising to help his new in-law Darius reclaim the Crowley Family lands in the southern forest.
Meanwhile, the disputed northern forest was granted as a fief to Yva and his worgen, but retaking it would depend solely on their own efforts.
Most worgen regained human form and chose to return to civilized society, yet among such a huge pack there were bound to be outliers.
Unencumbered, Yva found human life hard to adapt to; he still lived freely in the Black Mire Forest, and from time to time worgen unable to readjust to human society drifted back into the wilds.
Compared with the pack's peak, the current ten-thousand-odd worgen were far fewer, yet these elite worgen possessed far stronger fighting will than ordinary ones.
The Black Mire Forest was merely a small grove inside Gilneas, nothing compared to vast Silverpine Forest.
Even the northern Silverpine Genn had promised was many times larger than the Black Mire.
Yearning to roam a wider land, Yva led his worgen out of Gilneas and quietly entered the dense Silverpine Forest.
The forest was the most suitable habitat for worgen; under cover of trees their hit-and-run hunts left Gilnean and Alterac pioneer teams helpless.
The turmoil in western Tirisfal Glades did not impede Lordaeron's eastward march.
Andreas still could not say whether Taelan and Jandice's meeting had been coincidence or deliberate arrangement.
The only possible threat to Lordaeron's eastern rule was Alterac. Jaina may simply have gone with the flow, yet Taelan and Jandice's closer ties did ease relations between Lordaeron and Alterac.
Many inside Lordaeron remained suspicious of Tirion Fordring's return, repeatedly dredging up his past release of an orc as ammunition for criticism.
But once Taelan's romance with Princess Jandice became public, certain previously vocal ministers instantly turned mute.
Queen Jaina seized the chance to summon the loyal old knight to the capital, promising both Tirion and Dathohan—who had rushed from the Eastern Plaguelands—that she would do her utmost to help rebuild The Knights of the Silver Hand.
The Silver Hand, dissolved by Arthas, had split into the Scarlet Crusade and the Argent Dawn over doctrinal differences. Dathohan was the Scarlet Crusade's true power-holder, while Tirion wielded great influence over Baron Taelan's decisions.
Jaina's move gave the two knightly orders a reason to reconcile; the emotional Tirion and Dathohan at once pledged to assist the queen in rebuilding the order and managing internal divisions.
Excluding the missing Turalyon and Gavinrad from Stormwind, Tirion and Dathohan were the only two of the original Five Knights still loyal to Lordaeron after Uther's sacrifice.
To them, The Knights of the Silver Hand was not just a name but a shining banner guiding followers of the Holy Light.
With the two leaders intent on ending the long-standing rift between the Argent Dawn and the Scarlet Crusade, the situation in the Eastern Plaguelands shifted accordingly.
The two orders, once merely cooperating, suddenly moved in perfect tandem, recently breaking through troll zombies for the first time to storm ZulMashar's interior, startling Zuljin—who had been planning a counter-offensive into Amani Forest—into jumping up.
Free of the Alterac worry, Lordaeron could commit more troops in the Western Plaguelands to reclaiming old territory.
Along the Sodrial River where Tirion lived in seclusion, over ten thousand volunteers gathered, trying to reopen the Sodrial Path to Stratholme.
Forsaken bat-riders discovered the hidden threat west of the city; Lordaeron's actions made plain their resolve to retake Stratholme, barely half a month after the allied forces had wiped out Baron Rivendare's last Scourge remnants.
"We misjudged—everyone misjudged."
Andreas slapped the intelligence booklet on the desk in amazement. "Who'd have thought that seemingly daft Jaina was playing pig to eat tiger? Now even the Kingdom of Stormwind can't sit still."
Aurora nodded. "Dad, forget you—probably even N'Zoth, who planted agents in Stormwind, never imagined Lordaeron could rise again."
"Stormwind looks strong, but inside it still harbors the ticking time-bomb Benedictus."
"By contrast, Lordaeron was despised for ceding territory during its rebirth, so much so that N'Zoth didn't even place new agents in the capital."
Andreas drummed his fingers on the desk. "One side at its zenith yet hiding troubles within; the other free as fish in an endless sea, on the rise—interesting."
Jaina excelled at playing the pig to eat the tiger, quietly laying out a perfect revival before anyone noticed, yet the Stormwind lion Varian was no easy foe either.
"Anyway, the Alliance's actions on the Eastern Kingdoms don't directly concern us; let's watch in peace to see which of these two monarchs laughs last."
Having led the Night Elf Republic for thousands of years, Andreas was an old fox, and he had to admit he'd misjudged her at first.
Like most people, he'd assumed Jaina was merely a pampered princess raised in a greenhouse, yet the self-memory-sealed Jaina was steadily revealing the makings of a sovereign. Her subtle, silent methods left Andreas quietly amazed.
Leaving aside whether her initial love-at-first-sight for Rhonin was genuine, the two were now utterly devoted to each other, living in blissful happiness.
From this angle, Rhonin's "true-fragrance" decision hadn't been wrong after all.
Rhonin was a rising star of Dalaran favored by Antonidas, possessing outstanding potential among human mages. In the current Dalaran, only the new Kirin Tor Archmage Jaina Proudmoore and Councilor Khadgar could be mentioned in the same breath.
Archmage Antonidas finally handed the office of Archmage to his closed-door disciple Jaina last year and happily retired.
The old mage who had lived through the First War found himself unable to keep pace with the times.
The world was changing too fast; the mindset of the older generation no longer suited the current international climate.
Antonidas did not cling to power. Once Jaina had matured sufficiently, he unhesitatingly left the future to the new generation of outstanding mages for Dalaran's sake.
Yet Antonidas did not fade away. According to intelligence from Prisim's scouts in Dalaran, the venerable archmage continued using Arcane magic to extend his life and kept himself busy after retirement.
Recently he accepted an invitation from a mysterious figure and is energetically preparing for something.
Andreas didn't know what Antonidas was up to, but he trusted the wise old mage would never do anything harmful to Azeroth.
He ordered Prisim to keep watch and temporarily shifted his gaze away from Dalaran, turning back to Lordaeron.
With Rhonin, a Dalaran-born archmage, serving as a bond between the two nations, the rebuilt Lordaeron maintained excellent cooperation and trade with its neighbor, even surpassing the past.
Jaina's initiative to cede western Tirisfal Glades now looked like a brilliant move.
Though some territory was lost, Lordaeron avoided direct conflict with Gilneas, shifting the territorial dispute to the Kingdom of Gilneas and the kingdoms of Alterac.
By now Brunhilde also found herself on the horns of a dilemma; Silverpine Forest's land had been badly tainted by death energies, and reclaiming it would consume considerable resources.
Moreover, a pack of werewolves from nowhere recently rampaged through the forest, raiding camps belonging specifically to the Kingdom of Gilneas and Alterac.
Though not one-hundred-percent certain, after Brunhilde and Alex exchanged views they agreed these werewolves were most likely connected to Gilneas.
And indeed they were: leading the pack was none other than the wolf-pack chieftain Yva.
The wily Wolf-King Genn re-annexed Silverpine Forest into Gilneas, promising to help his new in-law Darius reclaim the Crowley Family lands in the southern forest.
Meanwhile, the disputed northern forest was granted as a fief to Yva and his worgen, but retaking it would depend solely on their own efforts.
Most worgen regained human form and chose to return to civilized society, yet among such a huge pack there were bound to be outliers.
Unencumbered, Yva found human life hard to adapt to; he still lived freely in the Black Mire Forest, and from time to time worgen unable to readjust to human society drifted back into the wilds.
Compared with the pack's peak, the current ten-thousand-odd worgen were far fewer, yet these elite worgen possessed far stronger fighting will than ordinary ones.
The Black Mire Forest was merely a small grove inside Gilneas, nothing compared to vast Silverpine Forest.
Even the northern Silverpine Genn had promised was many times larger than the Black Mire.
Yearning to roam a wider land, Yva led his worgen out of Gilneas and quietly entered the dense Silverpine Forest.
The forest was the most suitable habitat for worgen; under cover of trees their hit-and-run hunts left Gilnean and Alterac pioneer teams helpless.
The turmoil in western Tirisfal Glades did not impede Lordaeron's eastward march.
Andreas still could not say whether Taelan and Jandice's meeting had been coincidence or deliberate arrangement.
The only possible threat to Lordaeron's eastern rule was Alterac. Jaina may simply have gone with the flow, yet Taelan and Jandice's closer ties did ease relations between Lordaeron and Alterac.
Many inside Lordaeron remained suspicious of Tirion Fordring's return, repeatedly dredging up his past release of an orc as ammunition for criticism.
But once Taelan's romance with Princess Jandice became public, certain previously vocal ministers instantly turned mute.
Queen Jaina seized the chance to summon the loyal old knight to the capital, promising both Tirion and Dathohan—who had rushed from the Eastern Plaguelands—that she would do her utmost to help rebuild The Knights of the Silver Hand.
The Silver Hand, dissolved by Arthas, had split into the Scarlet Crusade and the Argent Dawn over doctrinal differences. Dathohan was the Scarlet Crusade's true power-holder, while Tirion wielded great influence over Baron Taelan's decisions.
Jaina's move gave the two knightly orders a reason to reconcile; the emotional Tirion and Dathohan at once pledged to assist the queen in rebuilding the order and managing internal divisions.
Excluding the missing Turalyon and Gavinrad from Stormwind, Tirion and Dathohan were the only two of the original Five Knights still loyal to Lordaeron after Uther's sacrifice.
To them, The Knights of the Silver Hand was not just a name but a shining banner guiding followers of the Holy Light.
With the two leaders intent on ending the long-standing rift between the Argent Dawn and the Scarlet Crusade, the situation in the Eastern Plaguelands shifted accordingly.
The two orders, once merely cooperating, suddenly moved in perfect tandem, recently breaking through troll zombies for the first time to storm ZulMashar's interior, startling Zuljin—who had been planning a counter-offensive into Amani Forest—into jumping up.
Free of the Alterac worry, Lordaeron could commit more troops in the Western Plaguelands to reclaiming old territory.
Along the Sodrial River where Tirion lived in seclusion, over ten thousand volunteers gathered, trying to reopen the Sodrial Path to Stratholme.
Forsaken bat-riders discovered the hidden threat west of the city; Lordaeron's actions made plain their resolve to retake Stratholme, barely half a month after the allied forces had wiped out Baron Rivendare's last Scourge remnants.
"We misjudged—everyone misjudged."
Andreas slapped the intelligence booklet on the desk in amazement. "Who'd have thought that seemingly daft Jaina was playing pig to eat tiger? Now even the Kingdom of Stormwind can't sit still."
Aurora nodded. "Dad, forget you—probably even N'Zoth, who planted agents in Stormwind, never imagined Lordaeron could rise again."
"Stormwind looks strong, but inside it still harbors the ticking time-bomb Benedictus."
"By contrast, Lordaeron was despised for ceding territory during its rebirth, so much so that N'Zoth didn't even place new agents in the capital."
Andreas drummed his fingers on the desk. "One side at its zenith yet hiding troubles within; the other free as fish in an endless sea, on the rise—interesting."
Jaina excelled at playing the pig to eat the tiger, quietly laying out a perfect revival before anyone noticed, yet the Stormwind lion Varian was no easy foe either.
"Anyway, the Alliance's actions on the Eastern Kingdoms don't directly concern us; let's watch in peace to see which of these two monarchs laughs last."