Thrall dismissed Hasana, who had finished her report, and strictly ordered her to keep everything she had discussed a secret.
After pacing back and forth in thought for a moment, he began issuing orders to those present:
"Varok, as my High Overlord, you are to depart for Tirisfal Glades immediately to meet with Sylvanas. Remind her that while we are allies, she must strictly follow the collective strategy of the Horde."
"At the same time, have the Forsaken at Tarren Mill increase their reconnaissance of Arathi Basin. If there are clear signs of the Alliance reinforcing their troops, they may take immediate action to intercept without waiting for my prior approval."
"However... please emphasize to the Banshee Queen that the Warchief reminds her she must not be the one to initiate hostilities."
"By your command," Saurfang replied.
Thrall then turned to Baine. "Baine, tell your father to prepare for the worst. He should station forces east of Camp Taurajo, near the borders of Dustwallow Marsh. If the situation changes, we need to react instantly."
Next was Rokhan. "Have Vol'jin dispatch a team of scouts immediately to keep Northwatch Hold under constant surveillance. If the Stormwind army stationed at Theramore shows any intention of moving into Northwatch, report to me without hesitation!"
Rokhan placed his right hand over his heart and bowed deeply. "Understood, Warchief."
After finishing the rounds, Thrall's gaze returned to Saurfang. "Issue a bounty for adventurers to find Rexxar in Desolace. Tell him the Warchief needs him; the Horde needs him."
He hesitated for a moment before looking at Saurfang again. "And Eitrigg. He is currently on a mission in the Eastern Kingdoms."
Saurfang seemed to guess Thrall's intent. "Do you want him and Rexxar to...?"
"He is perhaps the Orc who understands humans better than anyone besides myself," Thrall said. "No one else is better suited for this task."
Having said that, he scanned the other three with a steely gaze. "Remember, this is the Horde's highest secret. if anyone else finds out, you will no longer hold any honor in my eyes."
The three immediately saluted. "For the Warchief! For the glory of the Horde!"
Almost at the same time, in the Eastern Plaguelands.
The Thondroril River, flowing between two shores of decaying, blighted land, still appeared clear, though it was reflected as murky by the dark red earth of the banks.
On the eastern bank, inside a small wooden cabin, a white-haired but still burly human male was hosting an elderly Orc with a cup of simple tea brewed from Mageroyal.
Eitrigg looked at his old friend, whose spirit remained but whose eyes lacked their former luster. "If our relationship were purely that of enemies, I would be very happy that you chose to live in seclusion here. It is destined to be a massive loss for Stormwind."
Despite saying this, Eitrigg had noticed several spider-like remains—the husks of Crypt Fiends—not far from the cabin, which hadn't yet been cleared into the rushing river.
When the man first started living here, those thirsty, evil creatures had immediately attacked him and his mount—an old bay horse named Mirador. They were subsequently turned into piles of debris under the baptism of the Holy Light. Since then, the none-too-bright creatures hadn't dared to attack again.
Eitrigg understood that even if this man's eyes had lost some of their light, he remained one of the most powerful individuals in the world. After all, he was once a High Lord. Though exiled, with the secret help of his late friend Uther, most of his assets had been preserved. This gave him enough gold to issue risky tasks to adventurers.
Eitrigg took a sip of the fragrant Mageroyal tea, but his heart felt bitter.
The two were silent for a moment, as if conducting a wordless review of history. Finally, Eitrigg spoke: "The world needs you."
Tirion Fordring knew what Eitrigg meant. "The Argent Dawn is doing well. I can help them secretly by issuing tasks here. I am a traitor to Stormwind, and my only son is now a leader of the Scarlet Crusade. In my current position, joining the Argent Dawn would only bring them endless grief and trouble."
His words were reasonable. For the Argent Dawn to openly accept a man branded as a traitor by Stormwind would look like a provocation. Furthermore, the Scarlet Crusade was in a state of hostility with the Dawn, and small-scale skirmishes between the two were frequent.
Eitrigg did not argue or offer further persuasion. Instead, he asked, "What if... it were somewhere other than the Argent Dawn? Of course, I wouldn't mention the Horde."
"Is there anywhere else?" Tirion replied. "Are you talking about the Earthen Ring or Moonglade?"
Both men laughed. The former was a Shaman organization; while it claimed neutrality, only Orcs and Tauren truly understood the path of the Shaman. A human Paladin couldn't exactly blend in. The latter was a Druid organization; although they were truly neutral, Druids and Paladins were worlds apart.
"I'm glad to hear you joking," Eitrigg said. "But what I wanted to ask was... have you heard of a net cafe in Goldshire?"
Tirion raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose—a habit he had when thinking. "A few adventurers have mentioned it when they visited, but a few words aren't enough for me to understand what kind of place it is."
"I don't know much either," Eitrigg paused. "But before I saw you, I heard some rumors... You know, we have our own intelligence network."
The old Orc paused again. "Did you know that the owner of this net cafe recently defeated a massive, full-grown black dragon?"
"What?! A human? Defeated a black dragon?"
Tirion had encountered Dragonspawn—creatures with a human upper body and four dragon legs that couldn't fly—east of the Wetlands, in a place long ago called Grim Batol. Let alone an adult dragon, even those Dragonspawn were powerful beings that most adventurers were completely unable to face.
"Indeed," Eitrigg continued. "I didn't believe it at first. But then I heard that the leader of the Paladins in Stormwind, Shadowbreaker, has actually become an attendant to the owner. He stays in the cafe day and night, learning combat techniques from an owner twenty years younger than himself."
For a moment, Tirion felt completely out of touch with the world. As former superiors and subordinates in the Order of the Silver Hand, he not only knew Shadowbreaker but was very familiar with him.
Though he had joined the Paladins a few groups later than Tirion, even among the original five Paladins, no one could look down on Shadowbreaker's combat strength. After the elders had died or defected and the Order was disbanded, this Paladin had worked to maintain its existence, ensuring that the brand representing honor and purity wasn't discarded entirely.
And now Eitrigg was telling him that such a man was learning combat from a youngster? Combined with the claim that the youth had defeated a black dragon, how powerful must this person be?
Had the Kingdom of Stormwind changed so drastically during his years of seclusion? And what was this new organization called a "net cafe"?
Despite how fantastical it sounded, he trusted Eitrigg's character. This elderly Orc wouldn't risk crossing a continent and an ocean just to pull his leg.
"The place isn't in Stormwind, so few people would recognize you," Eitrigg said. "And it's not just humans there. I hear there are Dwarves, Night Elves, and even the owner of the Darkmoon Faire with his Ogre bodyguard, as well as two Pandaren."
"Pandaren?" Tirion felt the story getting more absurd by the second.
Eitrigg nodded. "Furthermore, I can reveal a secret to you, 'traitor.' Hahaha." Eitrigg laughed at his own joke, and Tirion shook his head, refilling the Orc's cup with hot water.
"I can tell you that the young Princess of Gilneas is also in this net cafe, and she works there as an assistant."
"What?!" The former High Lord—a man dukes would have to stand in line to see—almost stood up.
His surprise came from two sources: the shocking content of Eitrigg's words, and the realization that the Horde's intelligence had penetrated such a hidden location. Despite his "traitor" label, he was still human; his heart remained with his people and his former kingdom. Eitrigg's honesty won his respect further.
"So, you want me to investigate and confirm if these rumors are as magical as they say?"
Eitrigg nodded. "This isn't for the Horde. It's to answer your own questions. I believe that not just I, but you—and even some in Stormwind—might be interested in why this net cafe suddenly appeared and what its intentions are."
"And I can promise you: if you find anything you believe the Horde shouldn't know, or anything that would harm your honor or values, you can choose to say nothing. I won't force you. You know that I owe you my life."
Seeing Tirion still hesitate, Eitrigg wasn't surprised. He had one last trump card.
"Do you want to know what Shadowbreaker discovered in that net cafe?"
Tirion looked up at Eitrigg.
"A longsword that emits a holy light," Eitrigg said. "One that causes undead to burst into flames upon contact, turning them to ash."
If Tirion had been skeptical before, he flatly disbelieved this statement. He had personally heard the story of the "Ashbringer." After Mograine was resurrected as a Death Knight, the sword became corrupted and a tool of the Scourge. As long as the Scourge's lair wasn't wiped out or the puppet Mograine wasn't killed and released, that sword couldn't possibly be found by outsiders.
But he still didn't think Eitrigg would lie. Perhaps the Orc had just put too much faith in hearsay.
Eitrigg guessed his thoughts. "I didn't say the sword was the Ashbringer. The people in the cafe seem to have a different name for it: 'Dawnbreaker'."
Having said that, Eitrigg drained his tea. Tirion instinctively reached to refill it, but Eitrigg rose and placed his hand over the cup.
"I must go, old friend. It wasn't easy to see you. I hope we meet again."
"We will," Tirion said, seeing him to the door.
In mid-November in northern Lordaeron, though it hadn't snowed yet, the wind was piercingly cold. In the distance, two Wyvern riders were already waiting. Tirion realized Eitrigg seemed to have another stop instead of returning directly to Orgrimmar.
He said nothing more. Despite being life-and-death friends, their respective positions dictated that some things didn't need to be spoken.
Watching the Wyverns fly into the distance, Tirion heard his old horse Mirador stand up and neigh softly at him.
"Old friend, do you want to go out for a walk too?"
Mirador nuzzled against Tirion's arm.
Tirion gazed at the river rushing south, his heart as restless as the water. "Perhaps... I can find a way to save Taelan there."