Happy scarcely-a-few-hours-before-my-birthday everyone! It's hard to imagine that it's been over ten years since I started writing, and how far my life has come because of that choice.

Unfortunately, in that same vein, my struggles with regular writing times continues to bedevil me, and as such I am worried that I will fall out of available backlog chapters to maintain my update schedule...

Therefore, I feel that for the time being, possible till winter vacation at the shortest, summer vacation at the longest, I will be forced to move to a monthly upload schedule, in order to make sure I have time and to spare to get chapters written for upload, and hopefully start refilling backlog for unforeseen circumstances...

I know that this is disappointing to many, but I am striving to balance a great many things at this time of my life, and some of those are working to dominate as much of my time as they can. I do not wish to give writing up at this time, as it is one of my great pleasures, but I have to limit the time for it because of these other requirements for basic life... hopefully a more stable balance will come out of this, and I will sooner, rather than later, be able to return to a more frequent upload schedule, but only time will tell...

TL:DR, moving to monthly upload schedule, cause life getting in the way, and Happy Birthday to me! On with the next chapter! ~F

Chapter 165

Trial of Iron

Teron waited patiently beside Nobu'tan, as the young human looked over the assembled forces that he had called for this special assignment. The ancient Death Knight knew something of the horrors that they were preparing to face.

The Old Gods… a title that would have sent shivers up the back of the even Teron, had he been alive. The vicious creatures were beings of pure madness and destruction. Cho'Gall had practically worshipped the creatures, thinking that embracing their insanity was the only way to bring about the end of not only their enemies, but everything,

Gul'dan had found the ogre mage useful, but Teron had never thought siding with the Twilight Hammer to be a wise move on the part of the Stormreaver Chieftain. To see the young heir taking a stand against them was pleasing to the lord of the Shadowmoon.

The Blightbringers arrived, their host of undead and new Death Knights bring a welcome sense of the power that they had over the madness that dwelled in the depths they were to fight.

"The Alliance will be sending their own forces to support us, as we make our way northward and venture into, what I am told, is a Titan prison…" Nobu'tan said, even as Voldemort and a strange, winged creature approached. The magic of the being was similar to the old banshee that his fellow Death Knight had kept close, but this new entity Teron was not familiar with.

"Bellatrix, a new form I see… it becomes you," Nobu'tan said, casually acknowledging that indeed the haunting spirit was the being in command of the new shape.

The face of the female host frowned momentarily, but not enough to show actual disgust at the compliment, and she remained silent as the three leaders discussed the information that they had available to them through the Dwarven Explorer's League. The initial parts of the facility were above ground, a long stretch of pillared courtyards that would generate a literal army of Iron Dwarves, the original shape of those that they now knew, to prevent them from entering.

"The Explorer's League, the Alliance, and the Kirin Tor detachments are assembled, Nobu'tan," their Dwarven guide, Brann, said as he approached.

"Good, we depart for the Storm Peaks as soon as you are ready to take us there," the Grand Warlock replied, still looking over the maps of the entranceway that the dwarf had given them to prepare. "You mentioned some special weapons that you'd be bringing; I'd like my goblin engineers to have a look at them, if you will, so that I can best understand how to incorporate them into our arsenal."

The dwarf frowned at the thought, but nodded, "We have as assortment of gnomish and goblin siege equipment, procured from both Ironforge and Ratchet, as your people are less familiar with this kind of technology, I suppose that can be arranged."

"Good, otherwise I suspect a full frontal assault is our best option for this initial gauntlet," Nobu'tan explained, "if these iron dwarves will just continue to emerge and attack us, destroying their entry points is the only choice, as we push through to the inner courtyards."

"With our available forces, that might be difficult…" Teron said, and the Warlock looked to him to explain. "If these dwarves we are fighting are nonliving, we cannot raise them to support our forces as we push in."

"And then there's the iron giants to be concerned about," Brann chimed in, and Teron nodded in agreement, "sending in our infantry forces would be unwise, without a powerful vehicle escort…"

"I doubt flying over them or teleporting past will work either…" Nobu'tan asked, and the dwarf shook his head.

"They are quick to rally and attack if we reach the outer gates without dispatching them. Honestly, after the first assault I am surprised that they recovered and repaired so quickly." Brann added.

Teron watched as their leader processed the information. Had it been Gul'dan at the height of his power, the Death Knight would have suspected that he would force their forces into battle regardless, and through sheer power fight their way to their goal. However, Nobu'tan was different. He was passionate about preserving those around him, even to the going of great lengths to spare unnecessary bloodshed, if only on their side of a battle.

"What is the range of those siege weapons?" he asked, glancing at the dwarf.

"Not nearly as long as the ones that your Dark Horde sport, but they have a fair range to them." Brann said, which was curious to see the dwarf so humble about their technology versus the Dark Horde's.

"If we push forward slowly, will all the tower react, or just those in the immediate vicinity?" Nobu'tan pressed, and Teron started to see what strategy he was testing at.

"Just the closest, unless we push beyond one, then it will active to try and flank us," Brann explained.

"Then the strategy is simple," Nobu'tan said, eyes shining as he started to smile at a fully formed plan, "We leave a small force here for a base camp if we need to withdraw, and push forward with as many of your vehicles as possible, our infantry hot on their heels to mop up whatever comes from the towers. Blasting each of them as we approach and clearing out their forces to protect the vehicles, until we reach the far end and the gate."

"Aye, I'm sure that would work," Brann said, "It'll be slow, but have minimal casualties and be the most thorough."

"Then we should waste no time in getting to your base camp within the mountains," Nobu'tan instructed.

"I've recruited a few flying machines, but the rest will need to travel by portal once we arrive," Brann explained, "I've sent High Explorer Dellorah ahead to secure our old base camp, and see to the placement of our siege equipment."

"I will attend to the portals, once you've arrived," a mage of the Kirin tor chimed in, and Teron glanced at the group of wizards that had joined them from Dalaran. It was odd, to think that after so many long years of fighting against this mages, that events would place him here, standing at their side against a common foe.

Nobu'tan seemed to thrive off complicating life and making old enemies into fast allies of convenience. The dwarf led them toward a small fleet of winged flying contraptions, which Nobu'tan looked at dubiously, before allowing a smattering of his power to manifest, and Fel wings sprouted from his back. "I think I'll carry myself rather than ride in those, if it's all the same to you…"

"Suit yourself," Brann said with a shrug, seemingly having expected that reaction.

Unfortunately, that left the pleasure of accompanying the dwarf to the two Death Knights. Climbing into the cramped compartment that housed passengers, Teron felt the entire machine shudder to life as the Dwarf started the mechanics that allowed it to operate.

Slowly, the vehicle turned to face a sheer cliff drop. In his mind, Teron understood what was going on, the momentum of falling would propel the vehicle forward and allow them to turn into the sky, but had he been living there would still be a moment of sheer terror as the contraption hurtled toward the steep drop.

"Here we go!" the dwarf shouted back to them over the whine of the machine, even as they started their plunge. Fortunately, the dwarf was an excellent operator, and quickly pulled the flying machine out of its dive and sent it soaring into the clouds.

The half dozen other craft followed in their wake, and Nobu'tan among them, gliding on air currents to keep his energy high for the trek northeast of the flying mage city into the Storm Peaks.

The clouds grew thicker as the approached and ascended over the mountaintops, but Teron could make out the pinpricks of a great multitude of life in the lowlands. It would have been treacherous to travel by land to get here, which was saying something for how dangerous this flying machine sounded.

"It shouldn't take long to reach the plateau," Brann shouted back to them, and glancing at his fellow Death Knight, Teron could see he was having the better time adjusting to their current situation. Voldemort looked positively apoplectic to be in this device, as though the very thought of flying my mechanical means was against everything he stood for.

The winged woman that used to be his banshee flew at their side, keeping pace as best she could. Knowing there was nothing he could do to settle the other's nerves against the means they had to use to get to their destination, Teron simply hunkered down to endure the rest of the hopefully short trip into the mountaintops.

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Mahan knew there was trouble as soon as he heard tiding of the various factions encroaching into Icecrown itself.

The Crusaders were started to get desperate for battle. Despite a number of "successful" strikes against the Scourge, they wanted to go to full-scale battle, but they had no icon or weapon to rally behind to give themselves the courage to fight.

Several of the older crusaders complained that if they still had the mighty Ashbringer, then victory would be assured, but it was in the hands of the heretic Tirion Fordring and his Ardent Crusade…

The Nathrezim were content to ignore these mutterings, but Mahan had an inkling that they ought to keep at least an eye on these dissidents. They had not moved openly against the Crusade, and therefore out of line with the overarching plan to use them to generate mass death in the region, but there was something going on behind the scenes that he didn't like.

Luckily, in his position as Inquisitor Ward, he had full access to snoop around and discover what the lower bishops and commanders were up to without arousing too much suspicion.

Commander Abbendis had been recalled from Dragonblight, as New Hearthglen had fallen, predictably due to the Dreadlords plotting and the heedless advance of the Scourge and other factions, which did make moving about as he wished difficult, but there was nothing to be done for it. The High Commander was usually tasked with making battle plans with the two Nathrezim, which left Mahan quite free most of the time, barring any tails that the woman had set upon him in her distrust of his motives.

Clearly, she did not suspect anything close to the truth, but her general distrust of those immediately under her in rank was something to be both commended and resented.

Still, ditching the latest young warrior that was trying to keep up with him, Master Mahan stole through the base of Onslaught Harbor, finding a secret back door into the catacombs beneath the Crimson Cathedral, and fortunately nowhere near his own secreted corner of the structure.

It would be unfortunate if someone was to find that location and disappear, but that had not as of yet been a concern. Stealing down a flight of stairs, Mahan could hear faint chanting from a chamber below.

Whatever these fools were up to, it likely did not mesh with the grand design, and therefore he would have to act to stop it.

Peering around the final bend, after what felt like a sizable distance of sneaking nearer, he saw a group of around a dozen higher ranked clerics and paladins of the Scarlet Onslaught, pouring holy magic into some kind of object on a table before them. "The Light has favored us, brothers and sisters," their leader was saying, "To find another shard like the orb of the Ashbringer, and at such a crucial moment in our history. We must complete the purification ritual, and create a weapon that will destroy the Lich King once and for all! For the Light! For Vengeance!"

"Light's Wrath!" the others chanted back, intensifying their magic, and from this distance, Mahan could feel his skin prickle at the intensity of it. The shard on the table was absorbing everything that they threw at it, the seemingly limitless void within devouring the Light magic and eliminating it.

He had heard tales and read a small bit about the legendary weapon, the Ashbringer, and Mahan knew that if they succeeded in creating such a weapon, they would do untold damage to not only the Scourge, but also the plans of the Nathrezim…

This could not be allow to transpire, especially as these desired it. Even if they were to succeed, the Scarlet Onslaught could not keep hold of this weapon, as it would be too powerful in their faith-blinded hands.

Tapping into his newfound powers of shadow and dominion, Mahan send a small tendril of blackest power into the room, snaking it around the unsuspecting fools and toward the shard. It may have been his imagination, but the deep purple of the object was starting to take on a lighter hew, before he struck, injecting necromantic and void energy into the crystal as violently as possible.

The reaction was instant, and Mahan had to duck around the corner as the Light and Void magic mingled, erupting violently in a storm of power that annihilated anyone too close to the crystal. The wall he hid behind was heavily damaged, as was every other object in the room, leaving only the crystal, lying innocently on the floor as deep purple and flaring gold swirled in its depths.

"What in blazes was this?" the voice of Banehollow came, even as the Dreadlord appeared in his disguise as Archbishop Landgren.

"Those fools in the upper echelon of the Onslaught were trying to make another artifact like the Ashbringer…" Mahan explained, stepping into the room and checking for structural damage. Fortunately, the cathedral was sound, albeit the room had many new cracks and chips in the stonework, but otherwise it was sound.

"And you interfered so that the ritual they were performing failed, that was the right thing," Banehollow said. He reached for the shard on the ground, but withdrew his hand quickly as the light snapped at him. "This object is unstable, and not likely to be very useful to anyone in the form of a weapon, but we may try anyway."

Taking no chances with how unstable the little jewel seemed, Mahan raised his wand and levitated the crystal into the air with neutral magic.

If they could utilize the weapon that the Onslaught had desired to make against the Scourge for their own purposes, then they might be able to stand a chance, even against the likes of Nobu'tan and his power over the Fel.

Mahan had been ordered to keep out of the Dark Horde's way as much as possible, but with this crystal, he could match against the Grand Warlock in single combat, he supposed, and triumph, sealing the fate of this world without any fear of reprisal.

Between all the powers that he possessed, the great secrets that had been gifted to him by those he was bound to, there was no chance that the other factions could stand against him. Mahan could rule this world, and feed it to the Lords of Death as quickly as they desired.

Following Lord Banehollow out of the secret crypt, they went in search of Mal'Ganis, as it would take all three of their power to effectively forge a weapon with this jewel of both Light and Shadow…

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Nobu'tan did not like the feeling of the strange, Titan ruins that Brann Bronzebeard was leading them into.

While the architecture was something not of their world, the underlying feeling of terror and rage was something all too familiar, from the caves underneath the sands of Silithus. An Old God had been trapped here, no doubt about it, and their forces were marching toward what was sure to be a trap for those from earth, should the fixation that C'thun had with Nobu'tan specifically have any indication.

One of the explorers that they had met at the base camp, Dellorah, had found some kind of magical projection, a Lore Keeper as she called it, explained some highly convoluted system that was in place to defend the front gates of the facility called Ulduar.

From what the warlock understood, the towers, called storm beacons, would generate a limitless supply of warriors of threatened, and would have to be destroyed for their forces to move forward effectively. Additionally, the creature confirmed the existence of what Nobu'tan had already sensed. The Old God, Yogg-Saron, was trapped beneath the facility, although the projection was unable to access the situation inside.

Leaving the dwarf to her chatty friend, Nobu'tan had joined Brann at the front of their temporary base camp, just ahead of the decent into the midst of the towers that would generate the opposing army. "It is good that so many agreed to come with us here." He said as Nobu'tan stopped at his side, "The Iron Dwarves have pushed us back to this location, and my explorers were only barely managing to hold the line until we showed up."

"They seem to be gearing up for another assault soon," Nobu'tan inferred, sensing the growth of ambient magic in the air.

"Aye," Brann agreed, "If we don't attack soon, they'll be able to annihilate us in the blink of an eye."

"Then let's waste no more time," Nobu'tan said, "Begin the attack."

Brann nodded, turning to the Kirin tor Archamge that had accompanied them here, "Pentarus, you heard the man. Have your mages release the shield and let our forces through!"

"Of course, Brann. We will have it down momentarily," the Mage replied, dashing to his people at the front, who had a massive, violet barrier of arcane energy absorbing the bombardment of attacks from the towers ahead of them.

"Ok, let's move out lads!" Brann shouted to his people, and the Alliance engineers that Varian had sent with them, "Get in your machines; I'll take to the air and speak to you via the radio!"

Their forces assembled quickly, and Nobu'tan allowed his demonic wings to appear, as he too would support their column from the air for this push into enemy territory.

"Mages of the Kirin Tor, on Brann's command, release the shield!" Archmage Pentarus shouted, "Defend this platform and our allies with your lives! For Dalaran!"

The shield evaporated within moments, and they started forward into the fray, mages using smaller shields to block the onslaught of missiles as they got moving.

Their siege engines moved steadily forward in a wedge formation. The metal-bound tanks took the front, heavy pistons blasting the oncoming waves of iron dwarves away as they slammed uselessly on the heavily armored vehicles. Meanwhile, in the rear, orcish demolishers, courtesy of the Kalimdor Horde, fired at the various towers that otherwise would endlessly churn out more of the metallic forces to fight them.

Sandwiched between, the Dark Horde necrolytes and Death Knights kept up a strong force of undead, countering any attempt to swarm them from the sides or rear and generally keep the demolishers from being overwhelmed.

There hadn't been time to bring forth any of the Dark Horde siege equipment, although with how mobile their push had to be, trebuchets wouldn't have been ideal anyway.

Overhead, the flying machines of the dwarves kept a sharp eye out, relaying changes in their battlefield to them on the ground by radio, and Brann himself was taking point of making sure that their path forward was as clear as possible.

It was astounding that the dwarf had managed to get weapons on such a contraption, but occasionally the flying machines would cut in front of their enemies, dropping explosives or firing small weapons that peppered the lines of iron dwarves with slag and metal projectiles.

Thrice, massive iron giants lumbered forward, and their demolishers had to alter their targets to bring them down before they caused too much damage, but Nobu'tan felt very confident of their chances at making it through the gauntlet.

Still, the going was slow, as they were taking out every tower that they saw as they pushed the lines of the robotic guardians. Nobu'tan himself took to the air a few times, layering Fel magic on the towers that were too out of reach on either side for their lines, allowing them to continue the forward momentum unhindered from the sides or rear.

Soon, agonizingly slowly, their column advanced to the final section, where half a dozen giants stood sentinel, as well as formed ranks of iron dwarves. The flying machines ran another bombing run as the assembled force charged, blasting significant numbers of the smaller opponents, while demolishers and tanks took on the giants.

Nobu'tan rained fire down on their enemies rear lines, helping to mop up the iron dwarves as the giants fell one by one, finally clearing the final area and leaving the massive gate unguarded.

"You've done it!" Brann congratulated over the radio, one of which Nobu'tan had been given for his person, "You've broken the defenses of Ulduar. In a few moments, we will be dropping in to…"

The dwarf paused, even as a massive crash was heard from beyond the gate, "What is that?" Brann said, suddenly alarmed, as his machine sped over them from beyond the gate, "Be careful! Something's headed your way!"

Whatever it was, another massive crash, far closer, signaled that it was rapidly approaching them from out of sight of their ground forces. "Quickly! Evasive action! Evasive act—" the dwarf started, but a deafening boom drowned out whatever else Brann had to say.

A massive mechanical monstrosity smashed through the gates, lights blazing across the metal frame and sirens blaring. "HOSTILE ENTITIES DETECTED," It stated, its mechanic voice more of a recording than real, "THREAT ASSESSMENT PROTOCOL ACTIVE. PRIMARY TARGET ENGAGED. TIME MINUS 30 SECONDS TO RE-EVALUATION!"

With that, it started rolling forward to the nearest tank, slowly gaining momentum as it sped forward.

"Circle around and flank it!" Nobu'tan commanded through the radio, he himself ascending higher in order to have a better view of just how his magic could help damage such a mechanical beast.

"ALERT!" the construct bellowed after a moment, as lights flickered on its back from green to red, "STATIC DESENSE SYSTEM FAILURE. ORBITAL COUNTERMEASURES DISABLED."

Nobu'tan understood some of the words that it was stating, and for that, he was glad. The last thing that those on the ground needed were attacks from above as well as the raging mechanical creature to fight.

Still, the mechanized beast seemed to be holding its own against their ground forces, its own arsenal of weapons more than matching the combined firepower of all the demolishers and infantry forces that had been brought.

"Brann," Nobu'tan called through the communication radio, "how did you beat this thing?"

"I dunno," the dwarf replied, sounding worried, "We dinna' face such a thing last time we was here."

"Well find a way, or else we will be halted here!" Nobu'tan shouted beck, before diving low to slam chaotic magic into the back of the whirling machine, pulling up and away before it could refocus its attacks on him.

Despite his heavy command of the Fel, it seemed that his power was having very little effect on the reinforced armor covering the machine. Indeed even the demolisher shots were simply bouncing off, leaving little more than dents.

Another wave of the flying machines sailed over the beast, dropping explosives onto its back, and once the smoke cleared, Brann shouted over the radio, "There! I see a weakness, ya need to get on his back and destroy the circuit controls!"

Nobu'tan had little idea what the dwarf was referring to, and hoped that it would be clearer once he was closer.

Diving again, he allowed the rest of his form to shed its illusion, slamming hard into the metallic armor and releasing a wave of Felfire in all directions.

"UNAUTHORIZED ENTITY ATTEMPTING CIRCUIT OVERLOAD." The mechanical voice trilled, even as hatches and other openings appeared across the top. "ACTIVATING ANTI-PERSONNEL COUNTERMEASURES!"

Iron Dwarves started to appear, as well as all the turrets on the leviathan's back turning to face Nobu'tan, but the warlock simply smiled. Magtheridon's glaive appearing in his hand, and spells of ruin spat out at his command, even as he leapt from knot of opponents to the next, shattering what metal he could and hurling the dwarves from the back of the mechanical terror.

Even as he shattered the final of the standing turrets, the entire moving factory shuddered to an abrupt halt, and Nobu'tan had to crouch to not be thrown from it entirely. Several of the Iron Dwarves were not so lucky, and were shattered on the ground before as they landed in a heap.

"SYSTEM MALFUCTION. DIVERITING POWER TO SUPPORT SYSTEMS!" the alarm blared, even as the entire mechanical beast went still.

Nobu'tan could tell it wasn't over, as pieces of the damaged metal were already mending themselves, seams fusing back together as it attempted to repair its systems.

Hurrying to an open hatch, and catching it with the glaive to prevent it from snapping shut, Nobu'tan peered into the darkness of the interior of the machine. It was cramped, and altogether not big enough for even his frame to fit, but that meant that there was little room for whatever was inside to escape.

Wedging the Fel glaive into the metal, keeping the hatch propped open, Nobu'tan took a deep breath. Opening his own magical core wide, he allowed a tidal wave of Fel to influx into and through him, transforming it into fire as he thrust both hands into the open hatch.

The resultant blast of green fire poured into the darkness, piercing through every twist and turn in the mechanical tank, and erupting from locations all across the massive armored back.

Red lights and alarms started to wail all around him, even as Nobu'tan kept up his torrent of fire. The tanks and warriors swarmed all around the creature on the ground, adding their attacks to what parts were available to them far below, and soon even the alarms started to die out, burned from within.

"TOTAL SYSTEM FAILURE!" the beast declared, its piercing voice already slowing and quieting, "DEFENSE PROTOCOLS BREACHED. LEVIATHAN UNIT SHUTTING DOWN…"

Somewhere deep inside the mechanized pest, there was an explosion, and all life and movement ceased in an instant. Nobu'tan released his spell, feeling mildly drained from the taxing amount of power he had used, but otherwise no worse for wear.

"Great job with that metal monstrosity!" Brann called over the radio, "There appears to be only a few more obstacles in our way."

Nobu'tan sighed, straightening and retrieving the Fel glaive from where he had wedged it. The metal had started trying to mend itself over the weapon, and he had to wrench it free with great force.

"Once you clear out that clanking robot at the end of the hall, we'll be inside Ulduar." Brann explained, his flying machine circling overhead.

"Of course there's be something else," Nobu'tan complained, unsurprised even as he stated it.

"We also noticed an enormous, fire-breathing protodrake and a molten giant, but they aren't in our way, if you'd like to just avoid them…," the Dwarf added, and Nobu'tan nodded. The fewer foes that they had to deal with in getting to this Yogg-Saron, the better.

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Lor'themar looked up from his desk, reading reports of the casualties lost in Northrend, as Rommath approached.

"Is it done?" he asked, even as the Grand Magister furrowed his brow.

"It is, Lord Regent, but I do not see what you hope to accomplish. We would be better off preparing for the eventual fighting to break out and destroy the vile trolls and their allies once and for all."

"Might I remind you, that we are allied with Trolls, even now?" Lor'themar shot back, his anger peaking. He had been fighting in the background with his advisors over his proposal regarding the eventual return of the Amani, and it had been an uphill battle every step of the way.

The Blood Elves were not ones to let go of long standing bitterness, and their hostility with the Forest Trolls ran about as deep as any of them could remember. Trying to get even the most level headed of them to see past that was a challenge, but it was one Lor'themar was willing to undertake.

"The Darkspear are not the same as the Amani," Rommath said, and although there was admittance, there was also defiance still in the words.

Lor'themar knew the reason. Grand Masgister Rommath had been one of the most loyal servants of Kael'thas, and when the prince betrayed them all to the Legion it had struck him deeply. The mage was seeking to find himself, and still manage all the problems in the city with managing the flow of magic from the Sunwell to their people.

His job had been eased, but there was still many pressures upon him. "Rommath," Lor'themar said, softening his voice from how stern he had been, "Have you considered taking a small personal leave, I promise you we can find an acceptable substitute for as long a sabbatical as you need…"

"Never, Lord Regent!" the Magister said, understandably outraged at the thought of being replaced.

"Not permanently," Lor'themar said, holding up a hand to forestall the tirade, "Just long enough for you to work through whatever you need regarding our fallen Prince, and the rejuvenation of the Sunwell… I think you need some time to take care of yourself, before you return to easing all of our burdens as you have been for so many years…"

"I…" Rommath started, hesitating. For a moment he wondered if the fiery temper of the Grand Magister was about to boil over, but the elf sagged upon himself after a moment of reflection. "Perhaps it would be good to clear my head for a time." He admitted, "I know of a fair few of my Magisters that can cover what is needed for our people…"

Lor'themar put a hand on the mage's shoulder, knowing that it took a lot for him to admit that he was overworking himself.

"Might I recommend a trip to Mulgore… the Tauren have spiritual pools there that refresh both the mind and body…," he suggested, and by the time he departed, it seemed that the Magister was considering it.

Lor'themar was worried about the vast amount of resentment and anger his people held onto, stemming from both the Scourge devastation of their home, the betrayal of their people from the Alliance, as well as countless smaller things that piled up on individuals over time.

It was a shame that he could not have all his people take the same kind of vacation that he had just recommended to Rommath, but perhaps it would be beneficial to ask of the Bloodhoof Tauren if they could send some shaman to help with the spiritual needs of his people.

Too long had they striven purely on their own strength alone, with nothing to hinder them and the Sunwell's magic to bolster them. They needed to ground themselves in something that would endure longer than the magic that they had grown so addicted to, something that they could actually believe in.

Still, with Rommath out of the way, the first major obstacle for Lor'themar's preparations for the eventual return of the Amani was defeated. He already had the support of Ranger General Brightwing, who still followed his commands when Lor'themar himself had commanded the Farstriders, even if he did not personally agree.

That only left the people of Silvermoon, which was a much more daunting challenge than one iron-willed mage. Could they accept the idea of the Amani trolls returning to their lands, or possibly even sharing Quel'Thalas with them?

Truthfully, Lor'themar did not know if they had the strength of will to accept it, but he was set in his purpose. If there was any chance to avoid more needless bloodshed, this path of peace was the only option that they had left to them.

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Velen was greatly troubled by the differences he saw in reality around him. Things had been so crystal clear on how he, and the Draenei, were to act and react as the history of Azeroth progressed, but there had been several major divergences, all centered around on Nobu'tan of the Dark Horde.

The very act of such a thing as the Dark Horde existing was in and of itself one such anomaly. In the visions that the Prophet had foreseen, there had always only been two great factions on Azeroth, the Horde and the Alliance. Now with three, however, the balance was unstable, and things that ought not to have happened for good or ill had not taken place.

Long had he foreseen the war against the undead ruler known as the Lich King, and the terrible atrocities that even he was powerless to halt. The gift of foresight did not allow one to alter the course of history, if anything seeing it made it all the more likely to happen in that course. He had seen the tragedy of the Wrathgate, the deaths of great heroes of both the Horde and the Alliance.

That is not how events had played out, according to what messengers from the front lines had sent back to the Exodar. Far fewer had perished, and the temporary truce forged between the factions was strained, but not severed, as he had understood it would be.

Velen was uncertain how to deal with these events. On the one hand, it was hard for him to know where and how the Draenei were to assist their allies with so many new variables in the grand tapestry that he had seen leading toward the end of the Legion and their Burning Crusade. At the same time; however, it seemed that Nobu'tan and his Dark Horde had preserved lives, many of which Velen had deemed lost and sacrificed to see that future played out.

While meeting with and directly operating around this mysterious warlock had eased some of his tension regarding their motives, the visions had not ceased, only slowly starting to incorporate the Dark Horde into the wheel of time, and Velen could only help but be puzzled, as that made them a wild card in the events of the future.

He wished he could be more certain about their fates, and how they would interact with the dangers yet to come, but it seemed that the Light was content to have him trust in their promises to Azeroth, and to fight its enemies.

The knowledge that they had an entire branch wielding the Light among them, much as the Thrall's Horde now did in the Blood Elves, did settle him somewhat. It took much for a faction or race to throw off the grace of the Light once it was willingly accepted into them, and Light tended to spring more into more light as time passed.

However, where that had aided his power in seeing the future of what would eventually lead to the greatest struggle in the cosmos at other times, it seemed that these new warriors of the Light in the Dark Horde only clouded his vision. Events were not shrouded to him, and the nearer they came to be the less clarity he had, as though time itself was being warped by the presence of the Dark Horde.

The future was slipping away from his grasp, and that had Velen spending more and more time with the Naaru of the Exodar, O'ros, all the while wondering if, now that the Legion had been halted for the time on Azeroth, if the Draenei should return to Outland to rebuild their second homeworld.