Fun is getting ready to start this chapter, and I am quite pleased with the direction we are about to go down after this chapter... Hopefully it is as well enjoyed for others as it was for me to write. Let me know your thoughts.

Chapter 187

Powder Keg

Sirius had mixed feelings about sea air.

On the one hand, he did enjoy the salty breeze and the memories of warm summer days with Remus and James from their youth long ago. However, at the same time unpleasant sensations from the coldness mixed with the smell reminded him of Azkaban, and the horrors that he had experienced under the sadistic aura of the Dementors. Many years had he needed under Xe'ra's guidance to move past the trauma those years had caused, and even still he was never going to fully recovered from it.

Nevertheless, he could not help but feel excited as he and the entire remaining force of the Scarlet Crusade sailed southward, leaving the frozen undead stronghold for the continent called the Eastern Kingdoms, and the former holds of the Crusade. What Sirius cared about most of all was that it put him significantly closer to where Nobu'tan was at Blackrock Mountain.

"We should be pulling into Tyr's Hand harbor soon, or what's left of it," Brigitte Abbendis stated, the now vice commander of the former Onslaught having deferred all control and command to Sirius in respect for his status within the Army of the Light.

It would have been endearing, if not for the level of pruning that the Crusade had to have to remove the corrupt and downright self-destructive elements. As it stood, they were returning with only a half dozen ships worth of soldiers, out of the fleet of fifty that Abbendis had reported first came to the shores of Northrend.

"What do we expect to find when we arrive?" Sirius asked, having some idea already of what forces would have been in these 'Plaguelands' when the Crusaders left for Northrend, but it was good to hear their speculation directly.

Brigitte looked to make sure they weren't being overheard before lowering her voice, "I fear that Tyr's Hand has likely been overrun. Listening in on the other factions as we battled through Icecrown, it seemed as though the Plaguelands had been a warzone before between all of them and the Scourge… I doubt we will have many friendly faces left in those lands, but it has our home, and to give it up feels like a terrible tragedy."

Sirius could understand the attachment to home, and the familiar. He would have gone through great lengths to protect Lily and James, and Harry after them, before the traitor had ripped them away and caused all that had befallen their old world.

He knew he had a duty to protect Nobu'tan, as Godfather, but he could not help but feel that he needed to guide these wayward paladins and clerics on a nobler path.

He was impressed in what Tirion Fordring and his Argent Crusade had done in unite the factions to fight the Scourge together, and he wanted the Scarlet Crusade to move past their hatred and their past to become that kind of a force.

Despite the eager chatter that the ship-hands had been on their entire journey southward, the air seemed to chill as they finally arrived at the harbor of the former Scarlet stronghold, and the silence rang out over even the creaking of the ship as it slowed to bop at the shoreline.

"It is as I had feared," Brigitte said, gripping the hilt of her sheathed sword as she observed the dreary state of the walled stronghold.

Sirius, who could see clearer than the others could, narrowed his eyes as amid the dingy walls and long abandoned ballista there was movement in the ruins, "Undead… Forsaken or Scourge, it's hard to tell…"

"In either case, they will not give up our fortress without a fight…" Brigitte said, "As much as we allied with the Hordes and their undead in Northrend against the greater threat, we will not surrender Lordaeron to their undead machinations…"

"There is more than one way we can fight this battle however, especially if it is indeed the Forsaken," Sirius said, beckoning sailors to lower the gangplank and another to bring him a horse. "Let us go and see first who we are dealing with."

Whether the vice-commander was uneasy with Sirius' brashness, she did not have a chance to voice it, as the Highlord swung himself up into the saddle and started down to the harbor. The undead up at the fort itself did not seem to react to the presence of the living on their shores, but he could tell that it would chance as soon as he started up the slope to the keep.

To counteract any potential aggression, Forsaken or mindless undead, Sirius allowed himself to be filled with the Light's radiance, until he felt the heat of it blazing from his very skin. The holy aura would hinder any attempt at the undead approaching him and could be released with great force if needed.

As expected with his precautions, the undead fell away as he rode upward, the Light burning those that were too slow to get out of his sight and range. "It seems that the Forsaken are not part of this ragtag band of mindless… leftover from some attack that overran the place it seems," Sirius said, looking over the undead, many of which were clad in the red of the Crusade and milling about in a cheap mirror of their former lives.

"But the Scourge was focused solely on Northrend, so who or what could have caused this destruction?" Brigitte asked aloud, even as they entered the fortressed and surveyed the lack of destruction on the buildings themselves.

The lack of structural damage revealed that no siege that had slaughtered the guard force, but a surgical strike that had taken the fortress. From what he had learned about the Forsaken and their rangers, Sirius could believe it was their doing that eliminated the living from this place, but he would not place blame without proof.

"Even if this was the Forsaken, they are not here now. We will need to cleanse your fallen brethren however," he said.

"The Crusade stands ready, if you claim the chapel, you should be able to find what remains of the texts and writs of the Crusade. Many of those will need to be removed if we are to guide the Scarlets into a new path that is free of the division and hatred that has nearly consumed it." Brigitte explained.

"If you rally our forces, I will take care of that location as a forward outpost to push from," Sirius replied, watching as the vice commander took off back down the ridge to the harbor. Turning back, he focused on the largest building ahead, its narrow spires looking worn and almost grey with the long time in the spore-ridden air and proceeded onward.

|…The Stormreaver…|

Anduin was elated that he had finally arrived at Theramore. He would have preferred to go with the Malfoys on their ship, but his father was adamant that he was to be taken especially on his own ship, with a brigade of soldiers under Captain Taylor assigned to protect him specifically.

Anduin understood his father's fears, even so such a safe location, but he still did not like the overprotective nature that this created. Captain Taylor was well respectable, but he did everything by the book, observing every letter of the King's commands, which meant that he would never bend the rules to allow the prince even an ounce of fun or added experience.

It made him hole up in his cabin on the ship rather than even bother bring on deck, as the entire crew was under orders to be beyond respectful, to the point that even crossing the deck had every sailor stopping what they were doing, saluting and asking if Anduin needed anything.

What he wanted was to be able to be considered just another of the men on the ship, without all the unnecessary special attention. That was the only way he was going to learn anything about how the people he would eventually rule lived their lives, if he could observe them in their work and lives.

Another of the many reasons he enjoyed people like both Jaina and the Malfoy family. They treated him as a normal person, only relegating the special status when it was required of them due to the presence of others outside their circle of familiarity, but otherwise they allowed him to be just Anduin, and not Prince Wrynn, future King of Stormwind and Leader of the Alliance.

To his delight, Draco was waiting for him on the harbor, along with Lady Aegwynn, chamberlain of Theramore. The old woman was very kind, despite her stern nature and ability to see straight through to the heart of matters. Knowing that she was someone of great importance in the past, even the Magna of old, didn't daunt Anduin, and he viewed her as more of a stern grandmother more than some ancient sorceress.

"Greetings Prince Anduin, welcome back to Theramore," the old woman said genially, and Draco patted his arm affectionately.

"I trust the trip was mercifully short and uneventful?" the older man said, laughing as Anduin frowned deeply.

"Captain Taylor is a very rigid and loyal man to my father," Anduin said neutrally, unwilling to speak ill of any man who fought for the Alliance.

"But not the most entertaining of babysitters I guess…" Draco said, smirking as he read the agreement in Anduin's eyes.

"Well, I am sure that there will entertainment enough for you here, and Captain Taylor will have an easy time tending to his ship and prepping reports to return to Varian…" Aegwynn added, "There will be other interesting guests soon, and I suspect you will want to meet with them."

"Oh, who?" Anduin asked as they started toward Jaina's tower.

"I'll let it be a surprise for you," Draco said, sharing an amused glance with the old Magna, and Anduin frowned at their teasing. Still, he was excited. When Jaina had guests that they wouldn't speak too much of, that usually meant that it was members of the Horde, and Anduin loved speaking with those of the other faction, learning what their lives were like and what their views on the Alliance were.

It was always interesting to see the looks of shock on the orcs, trolls, Tauren, and even once a goblin, as the Prince of their supposed enemies main kingdom listened intently to anything about their lives. He had not yet had the opportunity to meet any of the Horde's leaders, but he always hoped one day for Thrall or Cairne Bloodhoof to come to Theramore when he was there, as often as Aunt Jaina reported that they visited.

Perhaps, at last, this was when someone of significance was coming, and he would get to hear a more knowledgeable assessment of the future of the factions and their relationship.

However, whoever the mystery guest was to be was set aside as soon as they arrived at the tower, where Lady Malfoy and little Aurora were having a light meal outside near to Jaina's garden.

"Anduin!" yelled the young girl, dashing across the grass toward him, dodging nimbly around the flowers and embracing the prince in a hug that would be frowned upon by nearly anyone else.

Fortunately, those people were not here, and after a moment the girl released Anduin, taking his hand instead and leading him back toward her mother, "The flowers here are so pretty!" she said, even as Lady Narcissa offered a small finger sandwich to the prince.

"Tired after the voyage?" she asked simply, and Anduin could tell that the few days spent here already had removed a great weight from the normally so controlled and measured woman.

"No, I'm very excited to have something to do, to be honest," Anduin said, and he meant it. Sitting on his own on the ship had done nothing but bottled up excess energy that Anduin could feel preparing to burst out of him unless something engaging was found.

"It's a good thing I kept your archery targets in excellent condition while you were away then," Aunt Jaina said, appearing from the entrance of her tower, smiling as she crossed to the rest of them. "There is also the barracks training grounds, I'm sure Captain Evencane would be more than happy to have you train with the other footmen. Allen Bright also was delighted to hear that you've returned and will happily take up your lessons in channeling the Light once again."

Anduin smiled widely. He was so glad that those who were closest understood him and his true needs, those of a teenage boy cooped up far longer than he ought to have been. "Yes, to all of it, I would be delighted to start all of my old lessons up again, so long as there is adequate time for them."

"I can guarantee there will be," Narcissa said, smirking in a way that told Anduin that she would be managing his time for him, where he was to meet with people, and everything was well in hand. "There will be time and to spare, along with plenty of rest periods and opportunities to join us on long walks or rides through the area to explore some of this mysterious continent."

Anduin's eye widened. He had never once been allowed to actually leave Theramore on one of his vacations here, despite how he had longed to see the vastness of the Barrens right on their doorstep, "Really?" he asked, seeking Jaina's eyes for verification, "can I?"

"I believe you're old enough to be able to keep yourself safe for a short trek into Horde controlled land. You're not visiting any settlements, just doing a small amount of sightseeing before coming straight back anyway. It'll be even easier when our other guests arrive in a week or so…"

That verified for Anduin that it was indeed members of the Horde that were visiting, and the desire to know who it was burned inside him once more.

However, he would wait and allow the surprise to happen. One thing he had learned in all his lessons as Prince. Sometimes secrets were better when they were kept as such, rather than pried at until revealed.

|…The Stormreaver…|

Blaise took a personal interest in the movement of the Dark Iron Dwarves as they continued to burrow their way through the mountainside and invade the Searing Gorge once again. Despite the fact that the Shadow Blade rotated often who was staffing the post, Blaise made sure that he was selected far more than the other assassins and spies.

He could not place something about the situation. Certainly, the Dwarves thought they were being stealthy enough, and their joke of a mining operation was clear as any of the previous attempts, but something else aside from their actions drew the warlock's attention here.

Multiple times he had felt eyes on their post, as though some third party was there watching the Dwarves, and them by extension, but he had failed thus far in location who they were and for whom they were spying.

That was why, this time, as he was supposed to be spying on the Dwarves, he had concealed himself well away from the usual post and was watching the place where he was meant to be. If someone was watching their position, they might at last get overconfident and reveal themselves. For a long time, he lay in muted silence, allowing the rest of the world to simply roll past.

Time slowly became irrelevant, and he simply observed, memorizing the shape of the rocks and scraggily trees that would never have a chance to flourish on the ashy mountainside.

Then, breaking the sameness of the landscape, a lumbering brown shape came into view. The creature walked on all fours, sniffing here and there as it approached the deserted outpost. But the sight of it simply confused Blaise. Why would a bear be this far removed from its natural habitat, and a brown bear of all things…

Slowly, he raised a hand, opting to scare the creature away with a blast of magic, and see if that would at last stir up whoever was hiding out of sight.

"I would reconsider that…," a gruff voice said from directly behind him, making the assassin freeze in stun and surprise.

Slowly, he lowered his arm and turned to see who had outmaneuvered him, his eyes widening at the hulk of a creature that stood there. Covered in furs, the creature was half again the size of an orc, with the brown-tan skin coloring of a typical ogre, but regardless Blaise would recognize the infamous Champion of the Kalimdor Horde from his reputation alone.

"Rexxar…" he breathed, and the Mok'nathal smirked for a moment.

"At least I am known in the Dark Horde… I suspect outside of Lady Proudmoore none of the Alliance are even aware of my existence…" he said, taking his hands off the hafts of his hand axes, leaving the weapons stowed at his waist.

"Now, as I know we have little reason to be fighting each other, I suspect you are desperate to know why I am here, and why the Horde wishes to know the Dark Iron's movements toward your lands…" he added, crouching down to be more level with Blaise, albeit the part-ogre still towered over him when they were both sitting.

Recovering himself as swiftly as possible, Blaise tried to seem as nonplussed about the situation as possible, given the circumstances, "It would definitely put many in the Dark Horde at ease to know that their counterpart was not actively trying to undermine us, aside from the Banshee that is…"

Rexxar chuckled, a low rumble that seemed like it ought to have been shaking the stones beneath them, although it did not. "Yes, I suppose that at least a few are as observant as you and are ill at ease knowing that someone is out here." The Champion of the Horde stated, "But you and he can relax, I am only here to observe the dwarves and their supposedly secret doings…"

Blaise did not for even a second believe his words to be true, but he nodded nonetheless. Let the creature have its game and its orders. They were aware, and could prepare, and that was all that mattered.

"They should be through within a week, at the rate they're making," Rexxar said, "I trust you have plans for when they inevitably try to invade your won lands again."

"Some would argue that it's their land that we took," Blaise countered, giving the part-ogre a sidelong glance, judging his reaction.

"Then they would be fools," Rexxar replied, "The law of the Wild supersedes all these politics and warmongering. The stronger force came and took what the weaker could not hold any longer. If they wish to dispute that, then they only show the world their weakness."

Blaise could not help himself. He smirked. "Lord Nobu'tan would appreciate your viewpoint on things, I think…" he said, "I doubt that'd you be interested in possibly switching sides, but I can see the reasons that your Horde respects you and your strength."

"I am on nobody's side, aside from the beasts of the Wild. I respect the Horde for their desire for honor, and serve them," Rexxar said, standing and flexing his massive shoulders.

"I'll report to Thrall that the dwarves will meet their comeuppance soon enough, and he will prepare in his own manner accordingly, beyond that I can change nothing about what will or won't happen in the near future." The creature said, "Although I suspect that will be in the hands of your Grand Warlock more than anyone else…"

Blaise could only watch in silence as the Champion of the Horde then simply walked away, meeting up with his bear companion and disappearing into the rocky terrain. "You have no idea how right you are…," he said after the beast master was already long gone.

Turning back to look down at the dwarves once more, Blaise departed with a crack of apparition. There was a report to write, and a strike force to organize for when the Dark Irons finally got through the last of the magically reinforced stone, which had been delaying them per Nobu'tan's orders until the time was right for him to allow their attack to fail.

Something about timing it when he himself was at Stormwind with their princess, to utterly shatter their precarious standing with the Alliance.

|…The Stormreaver…|

Remus growled in irritation.

Three times now, just as they started to gain advantage over Xavius, the cowardly Satyr lord retreated, vanishing with a cackle into the trees of the Emerald Dream.

Still, the fact that their enemy would flee from them as they overcame every bastion of his corruption had its advantages. They were steadily rooting out every crop of this vile magic from the pure wild area, and working their way toward the heart of the Dream, where Malfurion reported that the Emerald Dragon Ysera, dwelled.

Still, that brought a renewed sense of urgency from the Archdruid of the Night Elves. If Ysera was the Nightmare Lord's target, he was using his minions most effectively to delay any reinforcements from reaching the dragon.

His druids were getting tired, and despite the seemingly unlimited energy that the denizens of the Dream seemed to have, their numbers were declining, as more of the injured stayed behind to heal.

"With luck, Xavius' delaying us will work to our advantage, and give Tyrande the time she needs to find his form in the waking world," Malfurion said, even as the druids looked out at the next encampment. "However, I am concerned at how near we are getting to the Eye of Ysera, the home of the Aspect of the Dream." he added, pointing in the distance to the floating island, where Remus could barely see structures set atop it.

"What can Xavius even do if he reaches that place?" Remus asked, genuinely confused. Certainly, magic was a thing, but from how this Archduid spoke of the Dragon, her power here should be absolute.

"I do not trust the dark power that seems to back Xavius," Malfurion said, his face troubled. "Whatever he has planned for Ysera cannot be allowed to come to pass… We must stop him here."

Glancing back at Remus, Malfurion gestured at the Scythe of Elune in his hand, "That weapon can injure him, even here, and you've only just tapped the surface of its power. We need to unlock more of what it is capable of, and I know of only one spirit in the Dream that can help you with that."

"Who?" Remus asked, warily. He did not think that a detour would be their best option at this time.

"That would be me, mortals…," said a new voice, starling the Worgen Archdruid. He whirled, wondering how anything could sneak up on him without even a whiff of scent being detected.

"Goldrinn, thank you for heeding my call," Malfurion said, even as the massive white wolf appeared from the trees.

"When you came into the Dream, I sensed it, and it intrigued me," the great wolf said, still eyeing Remus, "One of my power, my curse, and yet in control of your rage, and wielding the staff of my own fang."

The Earth-born Worgen glanced at the crecent moon of the Scythe, understanding where the unbound rage was flooding from them. This being, a Wild God of Azeroth, was connected to it, his rage able to burn and main any foe of their world.

"Receive my blessing, and the acknowledgement of being my people, even if you come from across the Nether." Rearing back, the wolf howled, the power of his form becoming blinding for a moment, before changing from silver white to mottled grey-black.

The Scythe glowed in Remus' hand, and the rage of the wolf spirit coursed through him. In that moment, understanding about the Scythe, and what its true power was, flooded into the mind of the former earth werewolf. "We will have all the forces we need," he said, lifting the Scythe as Goldrinn howled again, the yearning for battle and blood keen in the sound, "The War of the Satyr continues today…"

The howl was echoed, repeatedly, from the wood around them as they came. The ancient Worgen appeared from the shadow of the Dream, those who had been trapped in an endless slumber for their transgressions so many years ago. Their rage was there, still unbound and pure wildness incarnate. However, now Remus was here, holding the key to their freedom, to their sanity. The Light of the Moon Goddess washed over the shaped crecent of the fang of Goldrinn, their avatar, and Remus poured all his knowledge of the curse and overcoming it through the magic pounding around him.

One by one, the wild ones approached the two druids and were transformed by the magic flowing from the Scythe. Their fur melted into a silver-white hue even as their minds retook control of their action.

Glancing at Malfurion, Remus could see the surprise, nearing awe, that crossed the ancient Night Elf's face. It was gratifying to know that, even for this wise one in the arts they shared, even he had things he still hadn't experienced.

"Druids of the Scythe, to battle…" Remus declared flatly, his eyes fixated at the land stretching between them and the Green Dragon's abode. Now it would be Malfurion's turn to ride in their wake.

|…The Stormreaver…|

Teron was not sure what the Archmage wished for from the tower of his former mentor, nor whether he ought to give his former foe anything from their claimed tove of treasures. Nevertheless, learning what he sought was still the first step, and technically Dalaran and the Dark Horde were not at war, so an ounce of civility would be expected.

"It's nothing terribly important for you or the Dark Horde, I assure you," Khadgar said, which did nothing to assure the Death Knight, "Just a few personal items that I had stashed away her before the incident in Draenor…"

Whether the man remembered their fated battle in Shadowmoon Valley so many years ago, he did not seem to show it, and Teron was just as willing to let the old wounds lie where they were. "Well, aside from the obvious changes, the tower seems to be in excellent care…" the Archmage said casually, trying to ease the awkwardness that the mortal clearly felt walking among the dead and those who worked closely with them, "It's good to see things more… lively… here…"

Even Teron huffed in amusement at the turn of phrase. "You're honestly not even slightly upset that this place is ours now, and not under control of the Alliance…"

"I mean, my personal preferences do little in the face of reality," Khadgar said with a shrug, "and if you are caring for the place, and respecting the significance of it without going overboard with the dangerous secrets here, who am I to argue who actually controls Karazhan."

"I will make certain that Nobu'tan is made aware of your sentiments," Teron replied, allowing a hint of his amusement to show for the Archmage's benefit.

"Hopefully he will be in a mood to appreciate it, from what I've heard is going on regarding him. Managing an entire order of Warlocks is very demanding work, not to mention the faction conflict that is trying to brew under his feet." Khadgar said, as they reached near to the top of the endless staircases.

Teron had been sure that they would stop at some point in the midst of the libraries, perhaps where the demon Illihoof had taken up residence. Nobu'tan had a bargain with the Satyr, and so long as he did not try to make any problems he was free to stay and even conduct his little rituals as he pleased.

So far, the arrangement was working out, but Teron was not concerned with one demon and the swarm of imps he could command.

Still, as Khadgar reached the living quarters of the former Guardian, he started to think that the man was being genuine when he said he was just getting old personal affects. Once they were in the Guardian's room, Teron was mildly impressed for the archmage to go straight to a painting that they had all overlooked, of the Magna, Medievh's mother, and turned it aside, revealing a hidden vault just behind. Producing an arcane key, Khadgar casually opened it and retrieved a set of robes, several scrolls, a small tome, and two small trinkets: A shining gem, and a pendant in the shape of a golden eye.

Glancing at the Death Knight, Khadgar explained, "a few of these are purely sentimental, letters from the old days, as well as a few items that only function in Dalaran, and are therefore of no use to you here."

"For what it means," Khadgar said, turning back to Teron as he bundled the items in the robe and stashed them away, "I do hope that Nobu'tan can turn the direction the factions are going. War among them is not optimal, for any of us…"

Teron could only nod in reply, even as the Archmage teleported away, leaving the vault and its key behind for the Dark Horde to use as they saw fit.

The man was indeed a curious one, and Teron wondered if his combat prowess that had defeated even the first Death Knight so many years ago were as sharp as ever.

|…The Stormreaver…|

Matthias Shaw was not pleased with his King's plan. Holding the trial of the Dark Horde here in Stormwind was one of the most dangerous possibilities he could think of. As much as he agreed that the Dwarf Princess was out of her mind, and her attempts to push the Allaince into all out war was worth, having her in the same room as Nobu'tan of the Dark Horde was likely to cause such a war no matter the outcome.

To that end, he had taken it upon himself to utilize every asset in SI:7 as well as every ally that they could get in contact with on short notice to subtly tighten every ounce of security. The Prophet Velen had been recommended to bring as many Vindicators as he felt needed for his own protection, and the Stormwind Royal Guard had been tripled for the day, with extra patrols and station in and around the throne room where the trial was set to be held.

Varian clearly noticed it, as he was eyeing the extra guards with a critical glance, "Will it be enough?" he asked, glancing back at Shaw.

"One can hope, but if things get serious, I cannot guarantee anything," Shaw reported, even as Moira appeared with her guards, more of a detriment than actual security.

"Well, where is he…" she demanded immediately, all pop and outrage with no real teeth. If Shaw could have his way, the little princess would have been packed back to her father with a handprint across her face so red that no one would respect her or anything she said again.

Unfortunately, that was beyond his power to do, and they had to endure her little temper tantrums until the real threat to their peace arrived.

"Archenon poros, King of Stormwind…" the Prophet of the Light said as he and his Draenei appeared. Varian nodded in appreciation for the timely arrival, and gestured at a seat just below his own Lion Throne, from where he would judge the accusation and rebuttal of this conflict.

The Dwarf Princess seemed beyond perturbed that anyone would steal the attention of others from her, and was about to start speaking again, before Shaw noticed one of his Agents over at the doorway signal at him.

"He's here," Shaw said, moments before the warlock came into view.

At least the man had the decency to appear human this time, with the many faces and true demonic appearance that he could have borne. There was little need for things to escalate before they even got started.

The squat princess turned her glower on the approaching Dark Horde leader, and before she had a chance to spout any venom, Nobu'tan beat her to speaking. "So, now we are all gathered, let's get this waste of time and effort over with…"

Shaw flinched, knowing that the brashness was to be expected, but wishing still that the man would at least be somewhat diplomatic.

"How dare you…" Moira demanded, "Coming here like the point of the Alliance's sword did not hang over your sorry throat. If not for the King's wishes, we ought to just kill you where you stand now!"

The Dark Irons tightened their grip on their weapons. Shaw sighed, even as Varian slammed a hand on the armrest of his throne, sending the ripple of sound booming through the chamber. "Enough!" he demanded, before turning to Velen, and nodding his assent for the Draenei to take the lead of the matter.

"At the request of the High King of the Alliance, and as an impartial party to this matter, I Velen will judge the ramifications of this dispute of land between the Dark Iron Dwarves and the Dark Horde. I will hear both sides, in their fullest, before rendering a judgment or compromise as I see fit, to be carried out by the Alliance and Dark Horde respectfully, so that the matter will be ended for good. Any retaliatory measures after the fact will be considered declarations of war by the factions and the Alliance as a whole will determine whether they intervene."

"I trust that will not be necessary," Varian interjected, glancing between the dwarf and Nobu'tan.

"We shall see…" the warlock replied, while Moira simply looked indignant that she was not in the spotlight.

Shaw did not wait to hear the rest of Velen's explanation of the procedures and expectations as the judge of this dispute, he was already sending out signals to the hidden SI:7 agents for their people to converge on the Keep, discreetly, and keep a sharp eye out.

He did not like the fact that Nobu'tan had seemingly come alone. True many of his people lived and worked in Stormwind, but the man's greatest assets were away in Kalimdor, and he had eyes testifying that it was the truth, and no reports of their miraculous appearances here in the city contrary to that fact.

Yet, as every team reported in, it seemed that the man had done just that. Not a single member of the Dark Horde had entered the city, openly or by infiltration.

If anything, that concerned Shaw more than, if he had arrived with a full army at his back. To be fair, the accusations of the dwarf princess were nothing short of an insult, and clearly, the man knew it, but to underestimate the damage that she could do was still something of a danger to them all.

"I want every SI:7 agent to keep close watch on the Keep, even the slightest whiff of a problem we secure the King and the Prophet, and let the others fight it out of their systems," he said. It might have been somewhat cruel, but their priority were the people of Stormwind and their allies in the Alliance, and whether the Dark Irons thought they were counted in that number or not, Shaw was not risking even a single Stormwind guard to protect them if the wrath of the Grand Warlock fell upon the city.

"Any movement from the Malfoy's people?" he asked a set of guards, who both shook their heads, "good… one of them interfering would only make this all the more volatile."

As if on cue for the word itself, a tremor shuddered through the ground around the Keep, putting them all on edge. "Move, move, move!" Shaw shouted, even as the agents and guards started to scramble to their posts.

With luck that was just a momentary flare of the warlock's intense magical power, but Shaw would put nothing to chance with his King's life on the line.

Dashing back into the throne room, Shaw took in all the changes in an instant. The shattered stone floor under the warlock's feet, which would once again need to be replaced, as well as the terror that was seeping onto the Dark Iron attendants' faces, albeit not yet reaching their princess.

"How dare you…" Nobu'tan said, although whether he was sincere in his outrage or throwing the princess' words back at her, Shaw did not know, "You think you and your people are the only ones to have suffered, the only ones to have a home ripped from them!"

"You ruined our lives, replacing happiness with pain," the Princess sputtered, only to be overruled as Nobu'tan thundered again.

"LIFE IS PAIN!" he said, the raw emotion thundering around them, and deepening the cracks at his feet.

Slowly, Shaw moved around the room to stand beside his King, making sure, that when Nobu'tan took notice of him that the spymaster made no sudden movements. However, he did see the emotions that flowed freely through the man's eyes. Anger, hatred, fear, pain in spades… and yet, there was more… Regret, loathing, and loss… Shaw had overhead about some of the details of Malfoy's people, but he had never fully considered what it truly meant when the Lady had said that their world had burned by the fires of the Legion…