88. Triple Entente

Putting demons back into the waiting room was therapeutic when they didn't immediately threaten to burn your family. It was funny like that.

Not that I didn't take them seriously or wasn't hating them any less. However, it was lighter on the heart, and this wasn't a full-blown invasion of the Burning Legion. Not remotely close to it.

The Dark Portal was too obvious and too limited for an army without the element of surprise; it was both better and worse, as it meant death on our side was of little value, but it wouldn't get any worse.

I was so sure of that fact, as there would have been signs, coincidental accidents, or catastrophes. The Kingdom of Ahn'Qiraj wasn't some demon's convoluted plot; they would battle the Void before us.

They hated each other even more, like two desperate, starving predators over wounded prey, unaware the prey wasn't as helpless as they hoped. They may take advantage of what wounded us, but they would never cooperate.

The conditions were ridiculous, and there wouldn't have been weeks of relative respite where I could have some time to cool off.

I tended to Tur, helping in his recovery, and planned further for the takedown of the Lich King, which consisted mainly of necrophagic bioweapons adapted to a frigid climate.

What was dangerous was the army. Arthas wasn't weak, far from it, but to be blunt… we weren't going to duel him, and we had multiple demi-gods and siege engines.

We wouldn't play nice, as neither would he; he must already be planning our downfall.

I visited my parents, checking up on my new sister with great attention. They never were without a guard; Softjaw was always there, and she was no slouch.

She got similar upgrades to the twin and wasn't far below in skills. She was far less kind, however, to any pausing threat. I fully trusted her as well as her treant symbiote.

Regardless, we pushed the demons back; there hadn't been any notable strategizing beyond the Wild, as the Horde and Alliance had exchanged words. One thing united us, and that was the demons, even if one of us believed they could tame them.

No matter, as long as they kept things in check, but the slippery slope fallacy often proved to be more than only an exaggeration. There would be outbreaks.

Yet we still needed practical knowledge about Fel, more than the little from that little town of recluse kaldorei mage in Feralas the Wild Hunt saved.

I didn't want Arcane, even less so Fel, to be widespread, but hypocritical as it was, we couldn't remain blind. It wasn't as if the majority of enchantments weren't using Arcane mana from the get-go.

And the mages and warlocks proved competent, for the former not exclusively limited to the Alliance. Goblins practiced it, as did some ogres, and they were shockingly powerful casters.

Orcs weren't above using it, either, but it was rarer among them. To my point, they made sure we were winning and winning hard with us.

This wasn't an invading force or even a probe; their leader was here, as was most of his army.

It was a desperate escape, as if they were fighting on two fronts. Pitiful really. Disarmingly so, almost.

‘And he just lost his head…’ I thought that as groups of mismatched people of the three factions working together had properly destroyed the demon, causing chaos in the opposite force.

The counter-invasion began immediately, and we wouldn't lose our momentum, but we knew better.

Scout squads were sent first, and only when they returned did further discussion continue, where we had stopped it.

According to the report, it wasn't a complete hellhole. We hadn't received much from the kobolds' spying on the new alien race, sadly, and they hadn't been concerned about the wider world in their last few years there.

Unsurprising when they lived through one catastrophic event after another.

The Outland hadn't exploded to smithereens, but it wasn't exactly a paradise in any way. Illidan crowned himself with his little cult of personality, and that was the extent of it as of its current state.

Clearly, the Wild outside Maev, her Wardens, and seeking Illidan for answers, we had no immense interest in the broken planet itself.

There were flora and fauna worthy of interest, as well as the people to save and recruit if they ever so wished. We always welcomed more force within our folds.

But we didn't intend to invest the same resources the Alliance or Horde would, comparatively. One had immense vested interest from both the blood elves and draenei, a nightmare to untangle, and they had important people there.

The Horde was self-evident, orcs and ogres were there, and it was their home world. It would significantly bolster their numbers and morale.

There was Grommash's son there, should be more like, but an orc more or less made little difference. Unless Garrosh was a competent leader, Thrall didn't throw all his responsibilities to him.

Again, the Scourge was our target right now, so the Outland was neat, but Illidan, no matter how Tyrande pushed it, wouldn't have us go to a bonafide war. It was why she wasn't here, and her boy demanded attention.

But I was here for a personal reason more than anything, and I wouldn't stay long or be a constant. Vandel would have some of my thoughts hamfisted through his thick, empty skull. He was alive, I was certain.

The demons were the political excuse between us to get a foothold and not massacre each other. At least, officially, it was a dangerous, unstable realm… accidents would happen.

“Ohto, any idea what those giant trees may be?” Jaina asked during our little discussion at the war table. It was an incredibly odd situation; I was out of place.

I wasn't the only Representative to have come here. Magatha joined if mainly to get a grasp of future enemies, and the recently reborn Aviana wished to explore and test her children.

She hadn't been pleased with the state of the harpies, to put it gently. She committed a continental-scale felicide right after popping out of her floral womb.

I found her genuinely terrifying, perhaps not raw power, but the Mother of Birds was something else.

As to Jaina's question, Vandel came to mind again. He had the golden account I gave him, and his master would have had both skills and connections to unmake my seals.

“Great Trees, most likely, potentially World Tree even, but the probability is low. They might be a mutated subspecies as well. How do they get here? Put that on an old and stupid friend of mine.” I explained, but it wasn't the princess who answered.

It was a scarred but far from ugly man with a wild mane of black hair only held by a ponytail, and in heavy armor, the musk of Goldrinn's touch was around him.

He was a dangerous human. I wouldn't underestimate him just because one of my paws would make him go splat; most things suffered that weakness.

“Are those trees a worry, beast?” Varian Wryn demanded, and my fur bristles, as was for my entourage–ones with fur at least–but that was Proudmoore's reaction the greatest.

Her eyes had widened; the serene expression of confidence shattered as her gaze flicked to me, and her hand tightened around her staff.

‘You aren't so different in mind.’ I wasn't shocked or disappointed; the opposite was true. She understood well, but she could play along.

The Alliance and the belief of self-importance and superiority were synonymous.

“Is a sword dangerous or the wielder? Here is your answer.” I stated, my tone unwavering, “And a beast I'm, but my paws and fangs are the least of my dangers. You never learned from that little plague episode.”

“Yes, they are unknown then.” Jaina quickly intervened in the verbal clash that was unfolding, to both my relief and irritation. I wouldn't have let go, and neither would the King of Stormwind.

Not that I would go for a disease to do my work. Arcane magic could create food, but it was only a simulacrum at best that eased hunger. Target their crops, and you win. It was extreme, but it should be made clear.

Intimidation was a third of the battle. It wouldn't stop him personally, but while the Alliance was more of a collective of states working together as equals to protect themselves and each other.

He wasn't the only voice that mattered.

“Little can be done then. To better contain our attention to what we can expect, I propose a designated zone of neutrality surrounding the area at both ends of the Dark Portal. The size can be decided after, but I do not wish for death among ourselves.” Thrall said, shifting the air in the room.

“For once, I agree. We can claim and fight over lands further away, where a Fourth War wouldn't spark at any apparent sign of betrayal that would compromise everyone.” Magatha hummed, eyes studying the reaction of her audience.

She wasn't finished, “Though the portal can't be left unprotected. Cooperation would scarcely last, but we can compromise, as the Wild share fewer disagreements with the Horde and Alliance than between the Alliance and Horde. I ask us to tend to that… delicate situation.”

“Do you hear yourself? How can I, can the Alliance agree to such a mad demand?” Varian let out, and she snorted, unflinching and uncaring at the fiery temper of the warrior king.

“I do not share the grievances of the Old Horde with the Alliance, but Magatha, are you insinuating we are to allies against the Wild, against you? Tow-faced as ever, old cow. Or are you so confident that arrogance blinds you?” Cairne accused the dichotomy of both on the same wavelength was almost amusing.

It wasn't my fellow Representative who argued back, but one of the rare orcs to have my respect.

Our first battle had gone wrong in the worst way possible, but how I heard he handled it, as well as the subsequent battles we had together, made him, if not a close friend, someone I could entirely trust to abide by his word.

He was the only honorable orc I knew of.

“She isn't, friend.” Varok said calmly, “You didn't partake in the war as your son required your attention. It is no blame. An heir cannot be left without guidance. But Magatha's confidence is well-founded, very well-founded.”

“That is why I only see that alternative as valid. We won't cooperate with anyone to topple the other. We don't need to and would only go against the undead, demons, and spawn of the Void.” She said smilingly.

Her eyes narrowed on a warlock in the background and an exceptionally well-preserved undead in priestly clothing next to Jaina. If she didn't like them or did that for the show of it, it was a mystery. Her mind was a labyrinth.

Alonsus, if I didn't make any mistakes, he was far more supportable than any walking corpse until now. Perhaps the Light was responsible? Fascinating if so.

My gaze didn't go unnoticed, and he tilted his head slightly in a silent greeting, either oblivious to the danger at hand or accepting of whatever I thought of him.

I wasn't discreet, I never was.

Odd.

But unnatural sapient undead were always bizarre.

And there were distinctions between natural and unnatural. There was nothing else but Life and Death involved first and foremost, well within the core components of the undead in question.

Bwonsamdi, the Loa of Death, whom many trolls worshipped, was of that variety as was the Mother Wisp.

“We agree then?” I broke the tension, I didn't much care as long as it worked out, “No refusal to the Wild handling the portal? If further arguments are wanted, we would bring water and food as well as take care of the defense.”

“We will discuss this offer,” Jaina said and walked out with Varian and her escort, leaving us and the Horde only.

“You didn't attack that undead,” Thrall commented, and I grunted.

“Neither did you. But you wished for it, however. I smelled your disgust. They are repugnant monsters; they can be kind, but a one in a million isn't worth the risk. Yet, the Forsaken are a lesser concern. One the Wild intend to take care in due time, but they can serve their purposes of meat shields in the meantime. The same for their warlocks.” I rumbled, tone harsh as was necessary.

I didn't approve and wasn't going to pretend I did.

“Indeed, now would you wish for time to debate on our proposal, or do you agree?” Magatha continued smoothly, taking the head of the conversation, and as she did, the Alliance came back.

This time, following them was an elderly draenei whom I immediately recognized, and his arrival caused my body to tense up in a way that very few could.

He was powerful, and his entire focus was on me magically wise.

Luckily, he was a pacifist, but part of me didn't care; a threat was a threat.

One that reminded me of Archimonde, he was dangerous in every way that mattered. And there was the Army of the Light, a space-faring civilization, and he was one of their champions and leaders.

I needn't add anything.

“Greetings to you, people of the Wild and the Horde. I'm Velen, Prophet of the Draenei. I have heard of nature's offer, and it is easily agreeable. Let us not commit senseless violence when this anger can be catalysed to more meriting targets.” He said, bowing slightly and studying us with a grandfatherly gaze.

All of it was genuine.

“Excellent then, Prophet.” Clapping her hands, Magatha turned to the map, “A detailed plan must be drawn first, however.”

And right there, I knew I was in for some time, better than any alternatives I reckoned.