Lor'Themar Theron was not an easily surprised elf. It was easy enough to accept that Deathholme had finally fallen, that the scourge that had taken up in the Ghostlands now existed as feral and scattered creatures.

Life had been full of surprises over the past months. Him leading his people chief among them. To be honest, to finally be surprised with something actually pleasant was refreshing in a way.

It was the cause of so much surprise that caught him off guard.

His own personal adviser, and foremost mage in the kingdom, Grand Magister Rommath reported that a human had single handedly ended the war for Quel'Thalas.

The magisters reported he marched directly down the dead scar shortly after the majority of the undead collapsed, and presented the head of the traitor Dar'Khan, claiming he had "quite a story."

It truly seemed so.

It was a miracle, too good to be true. The kind of feat many would liken to legend.

Admittedly he was suspiscious.

He had the human claiming to be the necromancer king of Westfall watched, but well fed and well tended to by courtesans and attendants until his claims were verified.

He would be damned if his people were known as poor hosts to heroes, even if one needed to be looked into.

Many of his advisors claimed it was impossible for a single human necromancer to be capable of this but the every report and investigation into the matter confirmed the scourge leadership in the area to be completely wiped out.

Deathholme was an empty and charred ruin, destroyed by the overload of a ziggurat if his mages were correct.

The head they were presented was easily recognizable and had been well tested for any potential falsehood.

Still, he had ordered his men to keep the story to themselves until they were sure. If it was true the humans actions could change the veiws of the entire Sin'Dorei people.

Many had been ready to ally with the orcs when it was clear the humans would provide no aid, but the decision had been close.

Without prince Kael'Thas, the individual who first declared to move against the alliance, around to keep views as they were many would use this "Marcus of Moonbrook" as an example of why they should look to the alliance.

It could change everything.

When it was clear there was nothing else to do but speak to the man himself Lor'Themar called him to a personal audience.

He had Rommath inscribe an array onto the ground they would speak, one that would inform its creator whether or not those within it spoke the truth.

It was a relatively well known spell to the upper tier magisters, but even amongst experienced mages of other races it was completely alien.

A human might be able to guess it held some magical purpose, but in the halls of Silvermoon city it was just another glowing runic array.

The human was escorted through the streets of Silvermoon as an honored guest, and Lor'Themar watched from Sunfury spire as he approached.

He was regally dressed in black silk pants, wearing a well cleaned white tailored shirt. He held the appearance of a well off sailor over a king.

When the human stepped inside the Inner Sanctum, and presented himself before Lor'Themar he bowed perfectly, and in the fashion elves do.

It seemed he had done his homework.

Marcus glanced breifly at the glowing purple set of lines below him, before he looked up to him.

"Lord Regent Lor'Themar Theron. Its a pleasure to meet you."

Lor'Themar nodded politely.

"King Marcus Moonbrook. The master of Westfall. We had only just received word of your existence before you appeared in our lands, presenting the head of our greatest enemy."

He looked into the humans eyes. He seemed pleased with himself.

"I do apologize for our doubts regarding your claims, but everything you've told us matches the evidence of what we've seen. Now I simply have to hear the story myself."

The man nodded.

"I understand, it makes sense to be suspicious in times like these."

Lor'Themar looked into the humans eyes.

"Was it truly you who killed Dar'Khan? How?"

It seemed best to get right to the point.

"You know as well as I that Dar'Khan hasn't been truly alive for quite some time, but I defeated him."

Lor'Themar glanced behind the human, looking to Rommath as he nodded.

When he looked back he gestured for the human to continue.

"I managed to break into the Fortress known as Deatholme, and in order to make certain the elves won the battle I cut off the connection the scourge had to the power sources within the ziggurat."

He spoke the truth. "And Dar'Khan? How could a human hope to defeat a master necromancer and mage?"

The human paused for a moment.

"When I first saw Dar'Khan I knew who he was, and I knew I couldn't beat him with the ability I had."

Lor'Themar leaned forward.

"I used a kind of magic he didn't expect me to. While I was in Westfall I came into a number of tomes on fel magic."

A light fel glow appeared in the humans hand, twirling about as he spoke.

"As I'm sure you know, the fel is one of best forms of combat magic for beginners, and I found myself particularly talented in it's use, with it I was stronger than most magic users of my level of experience."

A smirk grew on the human's face.

"While I was trying to leave Deathholme without being noticed he stopped me, and in a rather arrogant move he claimed he would kill me personally. but not after allowing me to make the first move."

Marcus shrugged.

"Most would expect someone of my reputation of using necromancy. As Dar'Khan was unaware of the kind of magic I was capable of, I gathered all the power I could into a single attack, one far more powerful than a reasonable person could expect from a middling necromancer."

He laughed.

"Even in the end, Dar'Khan didn't really understand what I had done to defeat him."

Rommath stepped away, removing his power from the circle. "He spoke no lies."

The humans head tilted, an honest grin on his face.

"Shall we talk business then?"