For some, the new morning was something they looked forward to eagerly; for others, the new morning was just another chore; and for yet others, each new morning was a new dread. For Cyrus Creatfall, ever since Bolivar had left his daughter under his care, he had experienced the transition through each of these feelings. When she was little, every morning had been so chaotic, yet new and joyful. But then his duties under the heartbroken Katherine had slowly eaten away at that until Priscilla Ashvale turned each day into his own mounting dread. Dread for Kul Tiras, dread for Lady Proudmoore, and dread for headstrong and pure Taelia.

But that was not this day. Today Cyrus was met with hope. While Greymane did not arrive yesterday as he hoped, scouts had seen an Alliance fleet moving towards the city late last night, and they were certain to start arriving soon. Flynn Fairwind was looking for a means to sneak his group off of Boralus' docks and on into Freehold so they could investigate the Irontide Raiders and their ties to the Ashvale Trading Company. Meanwhile, Captain Günther, whose first name seemed to elude Cyrus, was traveling with Tealia and Avennah by land to Drustvar, where they could begin to challenge the growing threat of House Waycrest.

While they were away, though, it was up to Cyrus to uphold the Proudmoore loyalists. While Ashvale's adventurers certainly were engaged in smuggling her arms and messages into the city, he would need his own to counter them while he added support to the loyalists in the Boralus Guard. The shadow clash between Katherine's loyalists and the Ashvale Trading Company had taken much more time than Cyrus had originally thought; just keeping the traitors progress towards preparing a perfectly armed and coordinated uprising was consuming much of Cyrus's spare time and was eating into the schedules for the Alliance and Imperial adventurers. At least he had discretionary funds and his own fortune to pay for separate Kul Tiran adventurers to supplement for the others once they left.

But that was not including today. Already, as he subtly waited and watched, Cyrus could see them coming, a flotilla of Alliance warships all with the clear intent of docking at Boralus' port. Their flags and masts are just visible by telescope. It would still take them roughly two hours to arrive in port, but even from this distance Cyrus could see the Alliance's relative overcommitment in action. He asked Greymane for help resolving a civil conflict that had seen Jaina lost, and Greymane came with three Alliance ships; almost certainly all of them would be filled with troops or adventurers.

Cyrus had to wait, pretending to be patiently unaware of the importance of the soon-to-arrive ships. Even when the ships finally arrived in port, he had to hold himself back from meeting the arriving Alliance members. So long as he delayed long enough, then he could sell the lie that he hadn't been the one to summon them here. But eventually the lack of any visitors made Cyrus uneasy, and he ventured to the docks. As he went, Cyrus began to question the harbormaster's judgment. Where the Alliance ships had docked, they were each surrounded by a ring of steel. Cannons and soldiers circled the Alliance ships on land, while a couple of cog ships floated behind the Alliance galleons after having cannons hastily loaded onto their decks.

At the ramps of the Alliance's lead ship, Genn stood arguing with a captain of the Boralus Guard. "I am the king of Gilneas, the longtime ally of Kul Tiras; these men are my escort. After all, when the Alliance sent their dignitaries, they all wound up missing. Should I just come here expecting to be jailed and possibly executed for daring to meet with my own allies?"

The Gilnean king all but roared in the guard captain's face. The captain remained unmoved, however, and simply met the king's display with cold indifference. "Be your status as it may, King Greymane, we can not allow outsiders to bring any form of force or power into Kul Tiras; you will have to take your ships and depart."

"By the bloody sea, what nonsense is this?" Cyrus yelled as he approached the scene. "Captain, this is King Greymane, ally of Kul Tiras. And this berth is, if I know the sign I installed myself, the berth specifically designed for any dignitaries from Gilneas, who are always welcome in our harbor."

The captain immediately spun to face Cyrus, who stood behind the line of guards who had barred Genn's entry into Kul Tiras. "Cyrus, sir, regardless, I have my orders."

"Oh, Lady Proudmoore is ordering that we deny old friends now?" Cyrus snarked back at the man.

"No sir, the order comes from the Lord Admiral's steward and advisor." The captain responded.

"Ah, my apologies. I didn't realize these weren't Kul Tiran Guards out here, but thugs who obey the orders of Lady Ashvale over the rule of our Lord Admiral! It's Lady Katherine's own order that I placed that plaque on this berth, that we always have an open place for our friends. While Lady Katherine rules Kul Tiras, you have no power to deny her allies and friends access to Boralus. Now be gone!" Cyrus barked at the guard captain, who paled before nodding begrudgingly and then signaled to the other guards, breaking the encirclement around the Alliance galleons.

With this, Genn sighed in relief, and the tension broke. "What is going on? Where is Jaina? Your messages stated that she had been arrested and banished."

Cyrus had to brace himself. He knew the nature of the news he was about to deliver and the sheer lack of understanding the man he was to deliver it to likely had. "Yes, Jaina Proudmoore was arrested minutes after arriving in port and subsequently charged by the Lord Admiral and sentenced to banishment to Fate's End, an island off our coast."

Genn raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "And then what? Your men collected her, or is she on her way to another Alliance city?"

Cyrus shook his head. "No, Fate's End... It's more of a—"

Genn interrupted Cyrus with a growl. "We need Jaina back regardless of if Kul Tiras wishes to rejoin the Alliance. We need her as the Alliance's current leading expert on Mallus threats. She's probably all of Azeroth's leading expert on the Legion successor force calling themselves Chaos. They likely will be a threat to Azeroth in the far future, and we need her to prevent that distant threat from manifesting itself."

Cyrus sighed. "Fate's End is a death sentence; no one has ever returned from there when banished."

Genn froze, his eyes blazing with rage. "What sort of parent would sentence their child to death on such..."

Cyrus acted swiftly to cut off Genn's rage. "Katherine didn't do it. She left the call to someone else; they sent Jaina there to ensure her death. And while I did ask for help, I didn't expect an Alliance fleet. Kul Tiras is suffering from internal civil dispute; we haven't broken into a civil war." Cyrus left out the 'yet' from the statement; he still held out hope for the better judgment of his people and Katherine's ability to unite the Houses.

At that, Genn looked back at the ships behind him, where already squads of the Seventh Legion as well as squads of Stormwind's seventy-seventh foot company were disembarking. "Don't worry, most of this is actually destined for elsewhere. Gelbin thinks he found some additional allies for the Alliance. But these forces will possibly be necessary to secure their commitment to the Alliance."

"Still seems like the Alliance is moving its troops to threaten and intimidate."

Genn shook his head in denial. "The Alliance promises mutual support and protection. If our troops weren't there for an ally in their time of need..." Genn seemed to wince as he continued, "Even when they have been anything but an ally. Then how can we be trusted to stand together when it is most important?"

Cyrus nodded along even if he felt that Genn had still avoided the obvious issue of foreign troops forcing their way into a land they hadn't been invited to. At least enough of the Seventh Legion were Gilnean that he could excuse the issue when inevitably others complained.

The manor of Ahmon was an opulent building in the center of the city. While it was clearly part of a complex meant for far more than just the magician traveling with Olinise and Alin, they were traveling with. However, the building seemed sparsely populated with only a handful of servants, a few obvious slaves, and no sign of another noble or anything of similar station or duty as Ahmon.

The magician and the diplomatic sibling of the Rightrest family were speaking quickly and cheerfully in the magician's own Arabyan. While her grasp of this language she had just learned was comparatively weak, Olinise was at least able to track what the two were saying. She was a Sin'dorei; not only did she have the advantages of being of elven descent, gifted in the ability to learn and adapt, but her culture had been forcibly forged through the flames. 'Adapt or die' wasn't a mantra; it was reality. And with how her brother refused to adapt to reality, still locked into her family's tradition of pacifism and diplomacy, she had learned to adapt far more quickly than any other.

"I've heard many good things about the horses of your nation. May I ask what set them apart?" Alin asked with an ancient, well-practiced diplomatic familiarity so well crafted that only the best could then discern between the false and true interest and intent of the elf.

If Ahman noticed such things or even cared, Olinise couldn't tell. Instead the Arabyan just smiled and gave a short and polite answer. "The horses of Araby are proudly descended from the Ellyrian steeds of Ulthwan. While rare, there are a few such horses that have been claimed to share their ancestors ability to commune with their rider by will and thought alone, some giving their name to their masters rather than receive. Not even the Horses of Bretonnia can claim such. It's rare for one of our horsemen to even need to use reins to direct their horse, between the training of both rider and mount and the bloodline of our steeds."

Olinise raised an eyebrow. "You sound very proud of your horses."

"Of course, they're simply better than any other human-raised horses in existence; our trade with Ulthwan has helped see to that. Come, let's continue these simple conversations in my study. You said before you spoke on behalf of a Horde? Where did this Horde roam in from?" As Ahman spoke, Olinise felt a tinge of unease; the man glowed with a magic power that reminded her of a warlock, yet everything she had seen made her think of a shaman with their connections to the elemental spirits.

Soon the three of them were seated in a gold-trimmed lounge; low seats with plush cushions and a fine wooden table waited for them with an array of small pots, delicate-looking cups, expensive bottles, and a small lamp at the center, all untouched. The Magician smiled at the pair of Sin'dorei as he reached out and took one of the bottles. "Come, my guests, you must have something you desire: water, wine, perhaps tea, or perhaps coffee? It's a fine drink, though the northerners seem to dislike it. Whatever you desire, I shall seek to provide." As he spoke, the magician pulled the cork from the bottle in his hands, and an elemental woman made of water suddenly slipped out of the bottle, standing and then bowing to the Magician.

Alin grinned. "Who would be so poor a guest as to turn down Arabyan Coffee?" Olinise had to mask her distaste with her brother's quip; she had hated tea and coffee most of her adult life, and now he was forcing her to drink it without any room to excuse herself from partaking of the foul drink.

"Then allow me to be a good host." And with that, Ahman turned to the water elemental and spoke in some form of arcane language. She didn't know magical languages, but Olinise did understand that for some of them, understanding was futile since intent and will dictated more of what was being said than the words themselves.

Soon the Djinn water elemental raised its hands, and two streams of water curled through the air until they filled the cups in front of the two Sin'dorei. Swiftly the pair grabbed their cups and drank, though Olinise had to pause in initial shock. Rather than coffee, she could taste the familiar taste of wine; there wasn't nearly as much alcohol in it as she would have wanted, but the flavor was still exquisite. Olinise had to question how the man had guessed her preferences so closely.

But now Alin continued, likely unaware of the wine in Olinise's cup. "As for the Horde's presence, it's because of the emergence of a portal between our territories and here. We wish to form a beneficial coexistence with Araby and the Sultan of Lashiek."

Ahman laughed slightly at the statement. "Well, I'll wish you luck. Between Gaspar and the rising influence of the Prophet of Law among the followers of the One God, it's unlikely you're going to receive a warm welcome in the palace. Lashiek is a Corsair's port; we don't need to be friendly with outsiders to make our living. So the radicals are pushing to reject all of the worshippers of the Old Gods, the non-humans, and, of course, the magicians like myself. The Sultan has to listen to them, or he could be overthrown. You're just lucky that I caught wind of you just before you walked into Gaspar's trap."

Ahman smirked and sipped his drink then. "Do you mean Gaspar was waiting for us?" Olinise asked with a serious tone.

"Specifically? No. But there have been prophecies announcing your arrival. The holy men have likely been twisting the prophecies for their own ends, though. I sought out an old holy woman of Asaph, and she gave me her own version of the prophecy, one that the One God above all others approved. An era of doom is coming, and Araby's part in it begins when we welcome you into our lands."

Now Alin raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you saying we're going to doom your people?"

"I don't know, the Holy Woman sounded less dark and foreboding when she started describing your people. Perhaps Araby's part in the era of Doom is to survive it and reign over the world afterwards." Ahman stated with a dismissive shrug before leaning in with a conspiratorial smirk. "And either way, with how most prophecy seems to work, it might do my place either in the court or surviving the coming soon better to befriend you now."

"So we're just political tools to you?" Alin asked with a polite smile before sipping his coffee.

"It wouldn't do me well to lie about that. I would assume you're smart enough to figure it out, and my actual power in the city is currently quite limited." As Ahman drank his coffee, a servant came bursting into the room before bowing deeply to their master.

"Oh great Magician Ahman. The Hanımsultan has come; she waits for you outside the gate with the Palace Janissaries." Ahman's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before the magician's mask of impeccability returned.

"If you guests would excuse me. It seems I have a young woman demanding my attention." With that, the magician swiftly rose and began to hastily walk out of the room.

Once he was out of sight, both the Sin'dorei wasted no time in rising and following after the Arabyan. Traveling through the halls, they carefully stalked Ahman as he traveled through the maze-like structure. It only took a few minutes, but soon the sibling pair had followed Ahman out until he entered the courtyard, and then they sought a window where they could watch everything happening. Already standing in the courtyard, a whole array of soldiers in colorful uniforms with thick and ornate breastplates waited with gold- and gem-encrusted swords and guns. Leading the soldiers, however, was a single woman, a certain human beauty who certainly knew the importance of her appearance, wearing many layers of ornate but sheer and translucent clothing, which, despite being heavily clothed, left incredibly little about the woman's body to the imagination.

And forced to their knees by larger examples of these well-dressed soldiers, in a line next to the woman, lay Bathol, Lo'jie, and Kersti. The three had their heads dipped, possibly in shame or fear of the guns pressed to the back of their necks, as the woman beside them stood with an impatient air about her. Ahman walked to the woman slowly and with a confidence that seemed to imply he held all the power here.

"Hanımsultan Sameen. How is your father?" The man began while bowing with his hand over his heart.

The woman across from him seemed far less impressed, however. "Ahman, shove it. You'd know my father better than I did if you just attended court like you were supposed to."

"Oh, but my Hanımsultan, then I would have to endure your brother's presence, and I have no plan to ever serve or be around that detestable intransigent. The Shahzadeh is going to be the death of Lashiek when he takes over from your father. He's all but given the city to the holy men of the One God and almost certainly thinks that by blind faith he can invade and conquer all the rest of Araby and even the world. That sort of court has no place for a Magician who actually understands the difference between possible and impossible and the ins and outs of making one become the other." Ahman stated slyly while the woman just glared.

"Save the theatrics. You clearly are playing your own games with the court. Why else bring in and protect the very creatures the holy men have been warning us of for the past year?" The woman chided.

At her side, the three captured Horde members began to whisper among themselves. "Туох туһунан кэпсииллэрий? (What are they saying?)" Kersti asked, to which Bathol at her side shook his head.

"Мин билбэппин. Кинилэр урут истибэтэх терминнэри тутталлар.Мин санаабар, бу былаас иһин охсуһуу. (I don't know. They use terms I haven't heard of before. It seems to me that this is a power struggle.)" Just as Bathol finished, one of the soldiers over him pressed their gun deeper into his back, silencing the Orc immediately.

"These things? They aren't mine. Where did you pick up such an interesting assortment?" Ahman asked with an amused smile.

"Really? They were caught trying to purchase warpstone and other items that are so very stereotypically associated with Magicians such as yourself. And from a merchant with connections that reach to all the most interesting places, for example, Zharr-Naggrund. Which, if I remember, don't you have an 'academic relationship' with that place?" The Hanımsultan spoke with a teasing lilt.

"Well, that's interesting, but I don't see the point. I can get all the materials I want myself. Why involve people so stupid they can't even speak Arabyan?" Ahman stated with a dismissive shrug.

"I was just confirming. Well, if they aren't yours." The woman turned to the guards around her. "Execute them."

Before the Janissary guards could respond to the order, Olinise was running to the door. She couldn't let this trio die; they had taken up her mission under Lady Sylvanas. And they were working directly under the Headman and thus were also working for Thanquol. And certainly if she allowed someone who was known as the Great Grey Seer Thanquol's subordinate to die under her command, that would lead to some major issues between herself and the rat who is supposed to be representing the Horde and Skaven's union. As the blood elf burst through the door, her saber already drawn, there were three Janissary Guards already lifting their blades, each aiming to decapitate one of the three prisoners.

"Stop! Stop now! They're with me. They are members of the Horde." Olinise Rightrest shouted with all the authority she could muster in the local language.

However, her demand was instead met with laughter of all things. It was high and almost melodic, like a singer's song, as the noblewoman seemed to laugh fully with her head thrown back. "Really, Ahman, you really were scheming behind my back. What, do you not trust me anymore?"

At this the magician sighed. "No, but if I included you, then that draws us both closer to the court. And makes our alliance easier to spot." The Magician sighed with both his hands in the air.

"You can at least trust my guards. So what? Did you plan to have them assassinate my brother without my knowledge? If I'm to properly become the Sultana, he must die either by my hand or my command. Having someone else do it behind my back is inappropriate." Hanımsultan Sameen chided as Olinise looked between the humans in shock. Had that really been what this was all about?

"Well, of course not; I would have still left your brother to you. I'm certain your current assassin is somewhere he would never expect. Your father, however, if Lashiek is to survive. We can't afford anyone but you in command." The magician brazenly admitted catching every one of the Horde members present in shock.

The woman's red-painted lips curved into a smirk before she placed her hand on her hip. "And what was to be your promise to them? Riches? Wines?"

Ahman began to laugh now himself. "If only it was something so easy. Their Horde claims they want to make allies with Araby, and the leader of their representatives and the majority aren't merchants but warriors. Their only thing they can offer out the gate clearly is only their weapons and warriors. Meaning they're thinking of making a military alliance with Lashiek. I was planning to offer them a meeting with you in exchange for the Sultan's head."

"That's some treasonous talk right there, Ahman. My guards should have your head for such a blatant betrayal of your sultan." Sameen stated as her soldiers all drew their blades, aiming for the magician.

However, the man just smirked, even as black smoke began to gather under his robes. "I joke, of course. I was going to have them kill your brother and that bastard Gaspar."

The woman smiled back. "Of course, no magician would be so daring as to try to usurp a sultan in modern times. Let's discuss this alliance and who exactly they will be killing for me inside. Shall we?"

The spray of the sea was different in this world. It was so full of life and mystery, and hope flavored it instead of Manann's hubris or the spite of monsters more ancient than even the gods. Yes, these seas were much more welcoming; she would make these seas hers. Admiral Tina could consume everything this world had to offer and more. But first she needed to play along with the Banshee bitch's plan.

And of course that meant taking the island nation of Kul Tiras. Of course the others thought she would be taking it for the Horde or for this Stormsong ally of the Horde. The one she needed this Trident symbol-sealed letter of introduction to meet with. Kul Tiras, a perfect pirate port. And certainly already an island chain infested with them already. She would meet with this Lord Stormsong, but if she needed to, she would make her own plans. She would become her own commodore; this Azeroth would become her hunting ground for her own fleets of vampires. To hell with Cylostra or the Banshee bitch; her fleet came first.

As such, she was speeding along this world's ocean. She was on Josh's fastest ship along with Jenny; she would find Kul Tiras, meet with Lord Stormsong, and make her assessment and plans. Opening the path for her fleet. Of course, while Josh's ship was fast and he was an excellent captain in that regard, it was certainly some other force that was giving her ship speed, like something in these welcoming waters wanted her to land on Kul Tiras. Like something wanted her to rampage across this world. And she'd be more than happy to oblige.

While she despised the idea of leaving her fleet alone with that damned ghost Cylostra. She needed to make sure everything was ready and perfect. And she'd deal with any devil so long as it got the results she wanted. Tonight was certainly special; she had indeed found Kul Tiras, but now she was left looking for a secretive port, one that this Stormsong would supposedly meet her at. According to that bitch Sylvanas, he would already know she was coming, though she didn't know how since the man was on another world and Sylvanas hadn't planned on recruiting Tina, so they hadn't planned this in advance.

Still, there was a retinue there waiting on the dock. A human man in priestly robes, his guards, and what looked like a four-armed snake-woman. Tina prepared a knowing smirk. Even when uncertain, it always paid to pretend you knew more than you actually did, especially when dealing with cutthroats like these. So she looked down her nose at them as her ship came into port, and she jumped off the deck and onto the dock.

Even as her boots hit the wood, and both Jenny and Josh followed after, Tina was already in the middle of a mock bow to the would-be king and his fellow conspirators. In Tina's hand, held by two fingers, is the letter of introduction, its wax seal held visible for all to see. "Greetings. I am Admiral Tina, and you are Lord Stormsong, I presume."

The man looked at the letter in Tina's fingers before sticking out his hand for it. With a roll of her eyes, Tina surrendered the paper, which the man eagerly opened and began to read. "So it's true, my queen saw to it that you would come here, for the sake of Nazjatar."

Tina kept her smile despite not understanding a word of the man's fervent talk, despite that weird elf spell that should have made it possible to understand everything this man was saying. It was true what they said: crazy was a language all of its own. "Yeah, the bitch sent me just like you said. And with everything she offered, how could I refuse such a good friend?"

"Indeed, how could anyone question the master of Nazjatar or the queen?" I welcome you to the Stormsong rebellion. Allow me to introduce Lady Rash'iss and the Tidesages Council: Wavespeaker Reid, Brother Ironhull, and Galecaller Faye. We will be your allies and the ruling council on behalf of the divine will of Nazjatar." As Stormsong spoke, Tina quickly pinned the man and his acquaintances as religious fanatics. In other words, people that a pirate such as herself wouldn't want to associate with.

"Of course. Now what is our plan for the future?" Tina asked, hopeful that these lunatics at least had an actual plan.

"We shall empower the people. Creating faithful soldiers from the masses and, with the divine gifts of Nazjatar, overthrow the Proudmoores while they are distracted by Lady Ashvale's own misguided attempt to claim power." The idealistic Lord Stormsong proclaimed, leaving a sense of disgust in Tina's stomach. Somehow these damned lunatics didn't even have a genuine plan, just the vague outline of one.

"My, my, what a bold and decisive plan. You truly are destined for something worthy of your...immense skill. May I ask what unworthy plans this Lady Ashvale is scheming?" Tina felt disgusted by sucking up to this pathetic creature, and she could feel the disappointment in her captains behind her; however, she couldn't just outright kill these incompetents, not yet.

"Lady Ashvale thinks that her stolen goods and scheming are worthy of making her the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras. She gathers new Azerite powder for her guns while trying to subvert the Boralus Guard and daring to trust those Irontide Raiders. Pirates with no faith except in coin and gunpowder." Tina raised an eyebrow at Stormsong's statement. In many ways the plan was better thought out than the Lord's, but even Tina could see the obvious gaps. None of these so-called rebels had a real army.

But now the silent Rash'iss spoke up. "Of course Ashvale thinks she can use the Azerite powder's immense explosive power to offset her people's clear disadvantage against the Naga of Nazjatar. But at sea her fleets will stand no chance against us."

Or maybe Stormsong had stumbled onto something. If these Naga were capable enough or held a large army. Otherwise it would just be a wasted effort. However, now Tina needed to know. "And what's this Azerite powder?"

Both Lord Stormsong and Lady Rash'iss seemed to shrug dismissively. "It's simply a new weapon." Lady Rash'iss stated, her tone entirely uninterested. "Its power is more than quadruple the standard powder currently in use."

Tina struggled to pretend not to be impressed, while at her side Jenny failed entirely. "Damn, if dat's like what we use, den that's the best powda I've ever seen, Admiral."

Tina waved off Jenny while staring at Lord Stormsong. "'ere, how 'bout this?" Let's make some changes to' yer plan. And' I promise this is the way this war will go all da way you want. All we gots to do is get some extra materials. And make some plans fer your Nazjatar friends. For that queen who hired me for this, of course." And Tina began to plot and plan, she couldn't trust these cultists, but they would have a effective war plan with her and Jenny's input. All she needed was that powder, and maybe a chance to talk to some of these other people.

Reviews:

Guest 1:And it wouldn't be fair to the people who read this story if for some reason the Azerothean side was taking Mallus super seriously, before that ever happened, now wouldn't it. Shouldn't have to spell it out, but Thunderbluff Siege is only now truly concurrent with ongoing events. But might want to recheck the last part of your statement since Azeroth has to some extent or another one V one been the winner of each confrontation and only when it's Warhammer plus a little something from Azeroth has Azeroth outright lost, not that they haven't frequently been near defeat. Sadly for Azeroth I hate the Overlord anime so they don't get to use pay-to-win pocket nukes that only target enemies for no reason outside a shallow bullshit hand-waive with no basis and/or have enemies who by default turn off their brains except for when it's to the Azerothean side's benefit, instead war is dirty and brutal and even when very few on your side die, it still doesn't feel that way after a major fight.

Guest 2:each spawning has been relatively weaker, but likely they would have "completed" the great plan, only to realize that the whole plan was abandoned and be forced to face Chaos solo as it dominates climates that lizards can't be effective in and spreads unchecked.

Guest 3:That and far more, there's things about the Kul Tiran quest lines that really irked me because they had no real story flow outside the meta "find a guy with a giant floating [!] Over his head.

M.yernis: all good, and I'm a dick Author and game master, if you want to review in your native language, feel free, makes things harder for everyone else especially when I'll take the time to try and respond to you in kind, leaving them even more out of the loop. I might include Ind, but Nippon unfortunately even from the fan works has been too stereotyped or bland rather than taking their myths and history and turning them up to eleven.

Hakuryuu: Really? I changed the title like five times so that's great to hear. But you must realize the Felheart is far from the only Druchii sailing and pirating upon the seas, and he's far less likely to be the one sent to another world. Araby I'm trying to weave some subtle changes on, GW back then went a little too stereotypical and not quite in depth enough. For one their magic system already is kinda cool, doubling down on it just makes it the coolest in Warhammer. As for Kul Tiras had to change the story, the story is literally something that makes no sense except in the meta "player go here" sense to hyperbole a bit it's "we are the Alliance and bad things are happening and now that we're done in the city, and bad things are happening but there is a group using a bullshit power canonically stated last expansion to be unable to stop even the weakest of the evil cosmic forces we can only assume those people are to blame for bad things rather than literally the dozens of things on Azeroth that make their claimed powers absolutely useless without any effort whatsoever. Now go find someone with a [!] Over their head to use our obviously correct no factual evidence assumption to go kill the people who are irredeemably evil and must be slaughtered to a man, because we assume their evil and we Alliance are never ever wrong." Like there's no gradual transition, it's you leave the city, go to Stormsong valley and immediately start killing tidesages. The Waycrests had more info reach the city than the Tidesages.

MadFrog2000:your welcome?

Dragoranza: ... I'm starting to think you all's sanity is tied to my upload schedule...

GodofWoof: That has more to do with scale and thought process than anything else. Anyone who is going to see Thanquol's "might" or even Ahmon's sorcery is going to have a decent level of respect for their power. But this is the Alliance and Horde, and the people often don't think of their own nation but view the Alliance or Horde as the overall nation... To the point they're chill with dictators and outside forces overthrowing relatively reasonable allied governments, so long as everyone is forced to agree with their view on how the "nation" should be run. A bunch of Grail Knights would devastate a small horde force or even one of their nations, but the Horde members are still going to look down on them since they're not a interplanetary army threatening entire planets, or begging to be made members of the Horde or Alliance. You have to be genuinely capable of viewing the Horde or Alliance, as someone from the inside, as a collection of individual groups to be able to genuinely appreciate Bretonnia, or anything smaller than the Empire for what it is. I mean the amount of shade the writers threw at Zandalar pre-joining the Horde shows that even a nation that to some extent controls an entire species doesn't get the recognition it deserves unless it's threatening the world, or bolstering the two main factions. For the Alliance unfortunately the characters capable of that appreciation are either Anduin, apathetic bigger picture guys who only work in global scale stories, or are like Moria and stuck in a indecisive limbo of authors wanting to either make them a far more generic character or a pseudo-villian... Which sadly means the Horde actually has far more characters who can appreciate a people for what they are outside the Horde but more often than not those guys quickly get thrown into a villain spot or have every aspect of their personality and uniqueness boiled away to make a generic "good guy", removing their unique traits as a leader or hero. And you'll notice that's the leaders and heroes, most common citizen lines are far far worse one way or the other.

deadliestfan: while I'm excited for somethings and really want to lay them out here, between not spoiling my own story, AND all the other topics let's see what I can actually fit into this response while keeping it relatively short.

I haven't said it publicly yet (or so I think) so I'll say it here. I think GW did Araby a disservice. They copied historical the Ottomans and in a way "Americanized" Araby since everything is either recognizable from the Ottomans, the Barbary coast, or Disney's Aladdin. So I'll taking efforts to step away from the IRL faith of those places and basically do with it as they did with the Old World and their faiths, but of course different in its own way. Also certainly I want to focus a bit more on the Umayyad and Mulmuk rather than the Ottomans. So 'the One' would in a metaphysical sense be a parasitic/symbiotic God that's keeping the non-war gods of Nehekara alive, but immediately subservient to himself, and in general the region is more diverse but more out of necessity than anything else since like Tilea there are plenty of Orks willing to trade or raid in the area, of course far more, and far more reasonable, undead immediately next door, and their naval conditions are also pretty mixed and insecure. Also I definitely changed their approach to magic, they're supposed to be using the Djinn, not Hyish, not "mundane" magic, but channeling through the Djinn, which wouldn't it then be much much cooler if they then had elemental magic that then directly ties to which Djinn they have under their immediate control. So instead of normal tabletop casting your casting is dependent on which Djinn or Djinn-based magical item the character had on hand with the Magicians then of course being able to bind the Djinn when no one else can. And for a tabletop example your magician has two fire Djinn you paid for and a wind Djinn sword. He can either have the two fire djinn fire off the basic fire spell, do a "level 2" fire spell himself, or pop off one basic fire spell, and combo the wind Djinn sword and a fire djinn for a fire tornado vortex type spell. The wind djinn can't fire it's own spells since it's in the sword and only counts towards the spellcasting of whoever is holding it, and the fire djinn the moment they die they can't be used but otherwise act as units on the tabletop, their own independent level 1 casters or spell levels specifically in the fire spells for the arabyan magician.

What Valen having accurate prophecies? never.

As a histogropher the Empire's "tech stasis" isn't really a tech stasis assuming their tech progress is mainly in small improvements over time. The USA's 60 years from flight to to the moon is the result of a relative perfect storm of coinciding technological developments. However the Steam Tank is an outright egregious slap in the face of logic since that particular piece of technology should be in limited production. For another historical example guns didn't drastically change forms for hundreds of years yet made constant minor improvements for all that time. So that while a set of guns two hundred years apart would be recognizable and easily figured out, the new gun would inherently have the better performance in terms of accuracy, powder safety, and ease of loading. While obviously GW is meta obsessed lately, Old World honestly Guns should do the same thing Plasma weapons used to do in 40k of blowing up on a 1 to hit.

As to the Gnome's ego and everything else. Ironically I have IRL experience with academia that more or less shows that the obsession with accolades and achievement, irregardless of how pointless to wider society and how wasteful it is, is the heart of the entire structure. So it's just pure reason that the Gnomes would be like that on steroids. And from the IRL experience, I'm talking about people financially and legally undercutting and outright abusing family because they see the family members in question as worthless because they have fewer doctorates than them, not no doctorates, fewer. To this day academia is rife with people who act like characters from a Jane Austen book. Fortunately the Gnomes are still a lot better than that... Buuuuut their WoW origin story is literally just everyday acidemia playing out.

And as for the comparison to IRL... No, because when people try to tech scale they frequently lose touch with basic logic. The worst offenders are pre-retcon Halo, but even Star Trek the "realistic" and "logic and reason based" sci-fi lost touch bad with reality when it comes to tech and tech scaling. And the best way to keep people grounded is to point out the IRL. For example Trek based off feat scaling and averaging their every hand phaser is a pocket nuke with the accuracy to cure cancer without any need of skill from the user. But if you apply that to actual trek, the entire setting falls apart, and the only way to crawl back to anything even close to believable is to look at IRL security and soldiers and ask "what do they need to do their job, and what fits in the Star Trek setting?"